#black leggings with criss cross back

[yueebby]

Dying thinking about gojo literally pinning and hardcore simping for reader, literally showering reader in praise, flattery and gifts because he no longer gives a damn about hiding his feelings, almost proposing to reader whenever he can and reader's just... completely clueless about it💀 and she thinks it's just gojo being friendly. Poor man would be absolutely devastated when he goes one day "[name] i'm in love with you" and she just goes "me too, i love all my friends!" 💀

she loves me, she loves me not! — gojo satoru x fem!reader

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo (what’s new), highschool!gojo, he’s pathetic but in love your honor, oblivious!reader, ooc gojo i got carried away soz

notes. anon, when i first read your ask i literally started giggling and kicking my feet. that. is. so. gojo coded.

“please reject gojo and put him out of his misery,” utahime implored, taking hold of both of your hands. you think she’s asking, no, begging you to. beside her, shoko nods vigorously. 

“but why?” you furrow your eyebrows, perplexed by their sudden request. “i can’t reject someone who doesn’t like me.”

shoko giggles at your comment. her laughter only wanes when she notices the dead serious look on your face. “... you seriously have no idea what we’re talking about?”

“not really,” you shrug, criss-crossing your legs to find some comfort on the hard wooden floor in shoko’s small dorm. it was late, past midnight, and the three of you had a shared mission tomorrow, but for some reason your two friends managed to rope you into their drinking circle.

utahime and shoko exchanged a significant glance, their unspoken communication raising your curiosity. utahime takes a long sip of her beer. 

“hopeless. they’re both hopeless,” your short haired brunette friend lamented, pinching her nose bridge. it leaves a faint pink mark.

intrigued, you lean in closer towards the two, “care to elaborate?”

“you’ve never once questioned satoru’s borderline inappropriate behavior?” shoko asks you earnestly. you ponder for a moment, trying to recall any moments in the two years you’ve known the snow-haired boy.

“satoru is satoru…” you mumble, shaking your head in denial. 

utahime’s eyes bug comically. she slams her can of beer harshly on the ground. you wince at the loud noise of the metallic can hitting the floor.

“you’re kidding. even i can see through that jerk!” utahime’s black pigtails sway wildly. 

“[name], how about what happened in shinjuku last week on our day off?” shoko quietly reminds you of last weekend when the two of you along with satoru and suguru decided to empty your pockets in one of tokyo’s largest entertainment wards. 

utahime’s head whips back and forth from her best friend to you, “eh? what happened?!”

from behind the dressing room curtain, you voiced your concerns, “shoko, i don't think we can afford designer clothes on our student budget.” the cream-colored silk dress you wore clung to your body, its price tag undoubtedly surpassing a year's worth of your student earnings.

“don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” shoko’s voice carried a knowing smile. “just come out and show me the dress!” you think satoru’s carefree attitude is rubbing off on her.

with a nervous sigh, you emerged from the dressing room. the dress fit like a glove, accentuating your body in just the right places.

bright flashes from shoko's phone startled you, and she chuckled deviously while rapidly typing. she tossed her phone onto a luxurious cushion, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exposure.

“you look so sexy. even better than the model.” she gives you two thumbs up, eyes roaming your figure. you feel flushed at her praise.

“as flattered as i am, there’s no way i can afford this,” you look down at the dress, lips downturned. “i’d be in debt for life.”

“no need to worry,” shoko winked, leaving you confused. given that her income was similar to yours, it didn't make sense for her to be able to even dream of shopping designer.

a soft thud interrupted your conversation. you turn around to see a blue lollipop rolling on the expensive carpeting of the store.

“suguru, are my eyes deceiving me or is that an angel?”  satoru's mouth is wide open as he shamelessly checks you out. he takes one of his hands and places it over his heart, gripping the fabric of his white shirt. the windbreaker he is wearing rustles at his dramatic movement.

“i think… i’m experiencing a heart attack! shoko help!” he kneels in the middle of the store dramatically. shoko shares an unamused look with suguru. the pair nod before simultaneously kicking satoru.

during all of the commotion, you stand awkwardly in the million yen dress. 

“satoru, are you okay?” you watch him take the two blows from your friends, concern evident in your voice. he grunts softly before gently taking ahold of your hand.

“no,” he croaks with a playful glint in his eye. “i’m wounded and there’s only one way to fix it.”

you look at him, your gaze heavy with concern.

“i’m afraid you’ll have to kiss me for the pain to go away.” he added, blinking at you expectantly with his blue eyes.

 you lightly shove him away from you. “you’re an idiot.” satoru laughs loudly.

“that’s what love does to a man.”

“yeah, yeah. i’m going to change out of this dress, don’t get into any more trouble while i’m gone.” 

 satoru’s grip on your hand strengthens, halting your actions.

“how much?”

“excuse me?”

“the dress. how much for it?” he stands up to his full height, reminding you of the obvious height difference between the two of you. 

you're at loss for words. gojo was crazy, but definitely not crazy enough to spend a million yen on a silly dress.

shoko happily chimes into the conversation. “one million yen. it’ll be two million yen with the rest of my purchases though!” 

suguru’s calm demeanor is replaced with shock. the black haired male’s jaw drops, “two million– satoru, you’re seriously not thinking about–”

“hah? who said i’m paying for your stuff?” gojo makes an ugly face at shoko.

she raises her hands innocently, “it’s not my fault the dresses come in a set. if you want to see your beloved [name] in that dress you’ll have to pay for mine as well.”

you watch shoko and satoru engage into a silent argument. the tension in the fitting room section is so thick, you think it’ll take a special grade weapon to slice through it.

trying to alleviate the mood you tell gojo, “satoru, you really don’t have to–”

“i’m buying you that dress.” 

“o-okay.” 

half an hour later, satoru happily strolls out of the store with an arm around your shoulder like he’d just won the lottery.

perhaps gojo is just naturally flirty, you had tried to reason to shoko and utahime.

it’s been a week since the eye-opening conversation with the two and you’ve found yourself on cleaning duty with said snow-haired boy. it was a miracle that satoru even showed up. he had a tendency to skip his turns, often resulting in a long lecture from yaga.

as the two of you worked silently in the empty classroom, you couldn't help but admire the setting sun. its golden rays painted the sky with hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over everything. unknowingly, while you gazed at the sky, gojo's gaze was firmly fixed on you.

breaking the silence, he asked, "have you ever thought about getting married?"

his question caught you off guard, causing you to momentarily pause from wiping the windows.

“not really,” you replied, biting your lip gently. “unless my family decides to arrange a marriage. you know how unforgiving the world of jujutsu sorcery is.”

gojo's grip on the broom tightened, his eyes locking onto yours with a newfound intensity.

"we should get married y'know," he blurted out.

the piece of cloth you were using slipped from your hand in shock. surely, he couldn't mean what he was saying. after all, the two of you were only second years.

“what?”

“i’m saying i think i’m in love with you.”

“oh.” 

silence engulfs the room once more before a soft giggle escapes your lips.

satoru can only watch, entranced.

“that’s good to hear! i love you too– and suguru and shoko! perhaps the four of us should all just get married.” you chuckle into your hand.

satoru can't help but stare at your hand in envy. perhaps if he were the palm of your hand, he’d be able to feel the touch of your lips.

but he couldn’t. he was cursed as a man with an overpowered innate technique, and despite it all he couldn’t even gain the one thing he desired. gojo satoru watched you, eyes filled with a mixture of longing and defeat.

his devastation does not go unnoticed by you.

you were under the impression that he was grumpy because yaga had forced him into cleaning with you.

"cheer up, satoru! if we finish early enough," you continue, your tone highspirited, "we can go to the new crepe shop that opened last week. my treat!" you winked, and that immediately caught his attention.

“like a date?” his eyes sparkled with hope.

you shrug, a smile on your face. “i suppose if you look at it from a certain perspective…”

“great, it’s a date!” 

good things come to those who wait, satoru thinks, humming happily as he starts to sweep the room at an inhumane pace.

maybe in ten years time the two of you will be happily married with eight kids, he smiles to himself.

[serpentandlily]

Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader

Lost in a Labyrinth Part II - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine. 

Warnings: smut (minors dni), reader is a prostitute, uncomfortable situations (nothing extreme)

a/n: thanks for all the love on the first part! Hope y'all like this one just as much!

➻❥ Part I

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Part II

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

“You look well rested.”

Cashmere winked at you from her seat in front of her vanity. She was brushing out her long hair, getting ready for the evening. You let out a sigh and plopped down at your own vanity in the dressing room. 

“I am,” you replied. “Someone bought out all my nights this month but no one’s shown up. It’s…strange, don’t you think?”

Cashmere shrugged, going back to looking at her reflection in the mirror. “Seems to me like you’ve got yourself a secret admirer.”

You began putting on your makeup for the night, not that you’d have any clients. But you were still expected to be in the Courtyard for a bit. “Secret, maybe, but they're definitely not an admirer. If they were, why wouldn’t they come get what they paid for?”

“Some of these Lords just throw their money around to impress us. I wouldn’t think too much about it, Serenity,” Cashmere said. You fought the urge to cringe at the fake name. “Consider it a vacation of sorts.” 

“Until Lydia finds out,” you snorted. “Then she’ll probably double book me.” 

“Just rub some kohl under your eyes,” Cashmere suggested. “Make it look like you’re still having sleepless nights like the rest of us.” 

“Not a bad idea.”

More girls walked in and you fell silent. Telling Cashmere about your current situation was one thing. You trusted her as a friend. But some of the other girls would likely pass on the information to Lydia and that’s the last thing you wanted. 

You finished your makeup before shrugging on a new lingerie set with a dark pink silk robe over it. You followed the girls to the Courtyard, ready to perform your nightly duties so you could retire back to your room for another peaceful night alone thanks to your mysterious donor. 

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Your vacation was short lived because the next day, Keir showed up and requested sixteen specific girls, your name included, for a party that was being hosted in Hewn City with some elite nobles. Even the High Lord and Lady would be present apparently. Not that you’d be allowed to approach them. Every time you worked these kinds of events, all the girls were given strict instructions on how to dress, what to wear, and what Lords to entertain. 

A dress was waiting for you in the dressing room. It was a long black dress that fell to the floor with two slits on the side to show off your legs. It was backless with a few thin straps that criss crossed on your lower back. Sitting beneath it was a pair of silver heels and on your vanity sat a matching silver jewelry set. 

You had to forgo your bra for the dress, likely the reason it was chosen. You did a sultry smokey eye and dark red lip for your makeup before you pinned your hair into a pretty updo to show off the back of the dress. 

By the time you were finished getting ready, the other girls were too. It wasn’t long before you were being led into the throne room. During parties like this, only the elite and those invited had access to this room in the castle. 

The ebony floors were polished, the carved pillars spanning so high you could hardly see where they connected to the ceiling. Various nobles mingled together, sitting on settees, smoking cigars, with glasses of wine and whiskey in their hands. 

The High Lord and Lady sat on their thrones on top of the dais at the front of the expansive room, dressed finely in all black with their crowns on their heads. Standing next to the High Lord was the General, the big, brutish Illyrian. Next to the High Lady stood the Shadowsinger, his eyes scanning the room. You’d seen the Shadowsinger plenty of times during the occasional trips your High Lord and Lady made to Hewn City. But that night he had walked through your doors in The Labyrinth, you had been taken aback by how beautiful he was. 

Memories of your night with him flashed through your head and you tried to fight off the blush and heat that started coursing through your body. Azriel had been a generous lover. Far more generous than your other clients, that’s for sure. He had actually cared about your pleasure. Not to mention he was the hottest male to walk through your doors.

It was a pity that he had disappeared so quickly and never returned.

“Alright, girls, you know what to do,” Lydia hissed at the group of you. “Do not embarrass me. Anyone who steps out of line will receive a new mark.” 

That was the last thing you wanted to do. You looked down at your hand, at the small tattoo on the inside of your ring finger. You only had two more marks left. Two marks and then freedom would be yours. 

You started mingling with the various Lords, pretending to eagerly listen to them brag about the most mundane things like their latest hunt or new investments. Servants meandered around, filling wine and whiskey glasses. 

When you were younger, you had accepted them like most of the other girls. Having a little alcohol in you always made the night easier. But you were going to steer clear of it—not wanting to jeopardize your progress with Lord Keir and Lydia. 

You started making your way towards the front of the room. You had to steer clear of the High Lord and Lady but the wealthier and more important males always sat near the front. And if you caught the attention of someone Keir wanted gone, that would be just an extra bonus to the money you’d be making off them. 

You were used to eyes trailing after you everywhere you went, but something else was tugging on your senses, making you feel not like you were being ogled at like always but watched. 

Your eyes darted around until they landed on a familiar pair of hazel ones. Azriel hadn’t moved a single step from his post but his eyes were on you. Your steps faltered for a second, taken aback by how intense his stare was. 

Was he scared that you would out him? Address him in front of his High Lord? He should know that you couldn’t. The same way he couldn’t mention anything that took place in the Labyrinth. 

Your name being called shook you from your thoughts. 

Your attention was pulled to a handsome male with long, white hair that matched his equally pale skin. Lord Thanatos’s golden eyes were running up and down your body as he sat sprawled in an armchair like it was the High Lord’s throne. He beckoned you to him with two fingers. 

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you had no other choice but to go to him. He was your least favorite client but he had a weird obsession with you. It was rare for him to choose any other girl in The Labyrinth besides you. You gave him a seductive smile, slipping into your role for the night. “How may I help you, my Lord?”

You let out a small gasp as he latched onto your wrist and pulled you onto his lap. The Lords around him all snickered. He brushed your hair to one side before whispering in your ear, “You’re going to be helping me a lot tonight, sweetheart.” 

Your insides shriveled up. Lord Thanatos was your least favorite client because of how rough he was with you. But he paid a lot of money so Lydia and the guards often looked the other way, only sending a healer into your room once he left. 

“I’m looking forward to it, my Lord,” you purred, resting a hand on his chest. You weren’t, of course. Not even because of the pain he’d inflict on you but more so because Lord Thanatos was Keir’s secondhand man and closest confidant. Which meant those two lines tattooed on your finger would still be there when you woke up tomorrow morning. 

Lord Thanatos went back to chatting with the various nobles seated on the couches and settees around him. If it wasn’t for his wandering hands on your body, you would’ve thought he was ignoring you. His hardening cock that was pressing into your backside had you shifting as much as you could to his thigh. You glanced around the room only to find Azriel’s eyes still on you. His fists were clenched, his face frozen with a hint of anger. Anger and something else that seemed suspiciously like longing. 

You shifted again in Lord Thanatos’s lap for an entirely different reason now. 

Cashmere happened to be walking by when Lord Thanatos grabbed onto her wrist and yanked her down to sit on his other thigh, forcing the two of you to share the small space. 

She giggled. “Two of us? Don’t tell me you’re getting greedy, my Lord.” 

You exchanged a small look with her. It didn’t happen often but sometimes clients wanted to take two girls at once. You preferred when you were chosen along with Cashmere, because you two were close friends which made it less awkward. 

“I think Serenity wants someone to play with,” he smirked, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

“Anything for you, my Lord,” you smiled. “You know how much I love to please you.” 

He leaned back in his chair and tossed his arms behind his head like he commanded the room. “Go on then. Kiss.” 

You glanced at Cashmere who gave you a dip of the head so you reached forward and hooked some of her ginger hair behind her pointed ear before kissing her lightly. She tasted like cherry wine. You pulled back after a second and for some reason, your eyes caught Azriel’s. He was closer now, leaning on a pillar, wreathed in shadows—watching. He twirled his dagger in his hand with ease. 

“Oh come on, Serenity. Don’t play coy,” Thanatos laughed. “I know that mouth can do better than that.” 

Cashmere grabbed your face lightly, her eyes shining with a look that urged you on. You kissed her properly this time, caressing her face. This time the two of you gave the Lord what he wanted. But you could feel Azriel’s overwhelming stare still on you. 

It wasn’t until your lips were swollen and you were panting that you finally let up. You could feel your lipstick smeared all over and wiped it with your hand. 

“Oh, she’s made such a mess of me, my Lord,” you pouted. “Will you excuse me so I can fix myself up?”

“Sure, sweetheart,” he said, pulling Cashmere closer to him. “But don’t keep us waiting.” 

“Of course,” you said with a nod, rising from his lap. 

When you glanced at the pillar Azriel had been leaning on, he was still staring. It was a bit unnerving. You let out a shaky breath and quickly hurried out of the throne room and into one of the bathing chambers down the corridor. You rested your hands on the edge of the sink, staring down at the basin. You just needed a breather. Just a second to collect yourself. 

Not a moment later, you felt a prickling sensation on your skin and the hairs on the back of your neck rose. Your head shot up and you left out a gasp as your eyes met a pair of hazel ones in your reflection. 

Azriel stood behind you, his shadows swarming him. 

You whirled around, backing into the sink. 

“What are you doing here!” 

Azriel took a step forward, out of the darkness. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he stated in a low voice that had goosebumps rising on your skin. 

You crossed your arms, staring up at him entirely confused both by his appearance in the bathroom of all places and his remark. “Shouldn’t be where? In the bathroom?”

“No,” he growled, stepping closer. “You shouldn’t be here, at this party.”

“What do you mean? You know what I am. We were hired—” You cut yourself off as you had a realization. “It was you, wasn’t it? The one who booked up all my nights?” 

Azriel said nothing, gave no reaction other than his large wings twitching. You swallowed thickly and turned back around, away from his daunting stare, finding it easier to stare at him through the reflection on the mirror. You summoned your small clutch with some magic before pulling out your tube of lipstick. 

“Look, Azriel,” you began, starting to apply your lipstick. “You’re not the first male to feel ashamed after sleeping with me. If you’re doing this to absolve yourself from whatever guilt you have, consider it forgiven.”

Azriel stepped closer, his face darkening. “I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood my actions. I do not feel ashamed because I slept with you, angel. I’m ashamed that I made you sleep with me.” 

You shoved your lipstick back in your purse, turning around to face him. “You didn’t make me do anything. I knew what this job entailed when I signed up for it, okay?”

“But is it…is it what you want?” 

You shrugged your shoulders. “I can’t say it’s been a dream of mine. But it's a hell of a lot better than being sold off to some male and having all my freedoms taken away.”

Azriel ran a hand through his dark hair, tousling it. “Those shouldn’t be your only two choices.”

“Well, take that up with our High Lord, Azriel, I don’t know what to tell you,” you sighed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my client is waiting—”

You went to brush past Azriel to the door but he grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Don’t,” he breathed, “Don’t go. I know you don’t want to be with him. I could see it in your eyes.”

“I don’t have a choice, Azriel,” you snapped, trying to pull your wrist free. “So let me go.” 

“Sounds like you’ve already had all your freedoms taken away,” he bit back, his grip unrelenting. 

“You know nothing,” you argued. “If this is the one thing I have to sacrifice to keep all my other ones, then so be it. Besides, I’m almost—”

You cut yourself off, cursing in your head at your slip-up. No one could know about the deals the girls at The Labyrinth had with Keir. If word got out because of you…

“Almost what? What were you going to say?”

Azriel’s eyes were pleading with you, like he was hanging off every word that came out of your mouth. You let out a shaky breath and shook your head. “Nothing. Nothing, forget it. Now, please let me go. You’re going to get me in trouble with Lydia.” 

You tried to leave again but Azriel pulled you back. “I can’t stand to see you look so miserable with him. Please, let me help you. I paid for you tonight; I’ll go tell Lydia that I’m taking you back to the—”

“She won’t care. She’s just going to give you your money back,” you cut in. “Lord Thanatos pays a lot of money to have me. More than whatever you gave her.” 

“Then I’ll pay twice as much as him,” Azriel stressed. “Or whatever I have to in order to make sure he doesn’t end up in your bed tonight.” 

“I take my orders from Lydia. What she says goes.” 

“Fine, give me five minutes,” Azriel said with heavy resolve. “Just avoid him for now and I’ll sort it out.” 

You looked at him closely. “Why do you care?” 

“Don’t…don’t ask me that,” Azriel murmured before he disappeared in a whirl of shadows, leaving you stunned and confused. 

You left the bathroom finally, making your way back to the throne room. Your mind was screaming at you to go back to Lord Thanatos before you got in major trouble, but something else in you wanted to listen to Azriel. You had no idea why. You grabbed a champagne flute off a tray from a server and made yourself look busy near a pillar that concealed you from Lord Thanatos’s view. 

Five minutes passed and you were beginning to lose faith in Azriel, resigning yourself to the night with Thanatos when he stepped out of the shadows behind you. You let out a gasp of fright, spilling your full glass of champagne. Azriel grabbed the empty glass from your hand and set it on a table before taking your hand in his and guiding you away from the pillar. 

“I sorted it out,” he whispered under his breath to you. “But Lydia seemed…suspicious of my interest in you.”

“What do you mean?” You hissed back.

“She’s wary of you being a spy for the High Lord,” Azriel answered, quickly. 

You held back a laugh at that. “Then I guess we’ll have to make her think you’re interested in me for…other reasons.”

Azriel stopped and pulled you close to him, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Don’t get me wrong, angel. I am interested in you for all those other reasons, too.” 

A chill skittered down your spine and you looked up at him with a coy smile. “Good, that’ll make this easier than.” 

“Make what easier?”

“The show we’re going to put on for her,” you whispered.

Azriel’s cheeks turned a bit pink and you just knew you were going to have fun with him. 

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Azriel found an armchair next to some empty couches in clearsight of Lydia and sat down, spreading his legs apart in invitation and patting his thigh. His face was unreadable as you sat in his lap, tossing an arm around his neck and throwing your legs over his thigh, leaving them to dangle. He placed an arm around your waist, his hand lying flat on your stomach, and pulled you closer to him. 

Azriel leaned in, whispering, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“You won’t,” you replied, honestly. 

His eyes searched yours for a second before he nodded. You placed a hand on his chest, running your fingers over his leathers. “Aren’t these a little constricting?” 

His throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly. “I’m used to them.” 

You hummed, your eyes darting towards Lydia to see her watching the two of you. “Well, I much prefer you out of them, shadowsinger.” 

Your words had their desired effect. Azriel’s chest rumbled with a quiet growl, his hand caressing your waist. You giggled, pressing a few kisses to his jaw. His scent of cedar and night-chilled mist seemed to envelope you. He gripped your dress in his fist, his entire body tense. 

“Tell me something about yourself,” he whispered, lowly. “Anything.” 

“What do you want to know?” 

Azriel nudged his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. His breath ghosted over your skin, causing goosebumps to spread. “Something real.”

You were never very forthcoming with your clients, always keeping your personal details secret and making up stories and lies to feed their curiosity. But something made you not want to lie to Azriel. 

“My name is Y/n,” you started, shifting closer to him so no one else could overhear anything said. His hand that was on your waist slipped to the exposed skin on your back, his fingers lazily trailing up and down. “I was born to a low-ranking noble and his bitch of a wife, my mother. I was going to be sold off like cattle to some Lord who had already gone through three wives—you can guess what happened to them—but my friend, the one you saw me with earlier, helped me escape.” 

Azriel’s grip on you tightened, pulling you flush against his hard chest. You melted into the heat of his body, the thin dress you had on did nothing to keep you warm. The hand that was on your back slipped to your thigh, parting your skirt so he could touch your smooth skin. Your heart jumped in your chest.

“Tell me their names,” Azriel growled into your ear. “Tell me their names and consider them gone.” 

You laughed, darkly, twisting your arm around his neck to stroke the hairs at his nape. “No need for that. They’ve been…taken care of.” 

Azriel’s other hand drifted up to your throat, grasping it lightly and tilting your head back so he could pepper his own kisses along your jaw and neck. Your breath hitched and you found yourself grinding down on him, gasping as you felt his hardening cock. Suddenly, none of this was pretend. Had it even been pretend in the first place? No…no, it hadn’t. You had been burning and burning for him since the night he had stepped into your room. 

“I’m sorry—” 

You turned to look at him and kissed him firmly before he could finish his sentence. He groaned as your lips met his and you pulled away entirely too soon, lingering only centimeters away. 

“I’m not,” you purred.

Whatever resolve Azriel seemed to have, whatever dignity of yours he was trying to preserve, all of it was forgotten in the moment. He lurched forward and kissed you again, his hand on your throat angling your head to his liking—the rings on his fingers were cold against your heated skin. You moaned at the feeling of his soft lips, at the taste of him. 

His tongue swiped your bottom lip and you gave into the subtle request, parting your lips for him and deepening the kiss. The hand that had been rubbing circles on your thigh slipped dangerously close to the place between your legs that seemed to be begging for him. You’d never been so turned on in your life. The thrill of knowing eyes were on you and the feeling of Azriel consuming you caused your brain to numb all thoughts. 

His hand on your throat slipped down your side, his knuckles running along the side of your breast. You arched into his touch with a mewl and he answered with a small huff, his wings twitching. Meanwhile his tongue was still exploring every inch of your mouth, claiming you in a way that had you throbbing in his lap. 

Azriel pulled away, leaving you panting for air as he began to trail kisses down your jaw and neck again. His wandering hand landed flat against your stomach, pushing you farther into him until you were flush against his body, your legs falling open to either side of his thigh. Your half-opened eyes darted around the room. 

It seems Lydia had lost interest in the two of you but another set of eyes were on you. 

“The High Lord’s watching,” you murmured as he tugged on your earlobe with his teeth. 

“I don’t care,” Azriel growled, his mouth moving to nibble on the delicate skin of your throat.

“He’s not going to get mad that you're allowing yourself to be seen with Hewn City scum?” 

“Fuck him,” he snarled, biting down on your skin and causing you to gasp. He soothed the mark with his tongue before kissing his way up to your mouth again. “Stop talking about another male while you're sitting in my lap.” 

“Yes, sir,” you smirked before he kissed you again, his hips thrusting up into your backside. You groaned, your core rubbing against his thigh with his movement and causing a strike of lightning to flash through your body. The need for him was overwhelming. You’d never felt this way towards anyone. 

His hand drifted higher on your thigh, until his thumb traced the inner junction between your thigh and hip and felt the wetness that had started to spread there. A small whine came from the back of his throat that had butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach. You pulled away from his kiss to stare up at him with lust filled eyes, his own full of hunger and craving. 

“Azriel?”

“Yes, angel?” 

“Get us out of here.” 

Azriel didn’t need to be told twice. His shadows engulfed the two of you and transported you to your room in The Labyrinth. You were on your knees before him not even a second later, overcome with the need to taste him, to touch him, to devour him whole. You pulled at the laces on his pants, your fingers working quickly. Azriel’s hand slipped into your hair, fisting your locks in between his fingers. 

“Angel, you don’t have to—”

“Azriel,” you cut him off, staring up at him with hazy eyes. “Shut the fuck up.” 

Before he could reply, you yanked his pants down causing his large member to spring up, already hard and leaking. You nearly groaned at the sight. He was so big, so big and thick. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the head of his cock and he hissed, his fists tightening in your hair. 

You stared up at him as you took his cock in your hand and licked up his entire length. He let out a loud moan, tossing his head back at the pleasure. You smiled at the sight, your other hand sliding down your body between your legs, hoping to relieve some of the throbbing.

But Azriel growled and yanked your head back.

“Don’t you dare touch yourself,” Azriel commanded. “Only I get to touch you there.” 

If it had been any other male saying those words, you would’ve laughed in their face. But it coming out of Azriel’s mouth only made your throbbing intensify. You whined, but listened, grasping his cock with both hands and finally taking him in your mouth. 

“Fuck,” Azriel hissed, guiding your movement with his hand in your hair. “Fuck, your mouth feels so good.” 

Your thighs rubbed together at his praise and you continued to bob your head back and forth, swirling your tongue under his cock and running it along his veins. His hips began to thrust in time with your movement, his hand guiding you to take more and more of him in your mouth until he was fucking your face. 

“You’re taking me so well,” he moaned, thrusting into your mouth. “Good girl.” 

You choked, tears beginning to slide down your cheeks. Normally you would hate a client treating you like this but with Azriel it felt different. Maybe because his rough taking of you was coupled with small words of praise and encouragement, urging you on.

“Just like that,” he groaned. “Fuck, angel, you look so pretty with your lips around my cock.” 

You whimpered, taking more of him until his cock was hitting the back of your throat. Your hands jerked the part of him you couldn’t take because of his unbelievable size. His groans and growls kept you going, kept the fire between your thighs burning. You needed him more than you needed air. 

Azriel yanked you away from his cock by your hair and you whined at the loss of contact. He pulled you up off the floor, his eyes nearly black with lust. “Take off your dress,” he ordered. 

You maintained eye contact with him as you quickly stripped yourself before him. The air around the two of you was intense, the need for one another so tangible. In this moment, you weren’t Serenity, the prostitute who worked here. But Y/n. The girl underneath the mask. 

“Get on the bed,” he demanded. “On your knees.” 

You scurried to the bed, doing as he asked. You were entirely exposed to him in this position, your arousal dripping down your leg. You could hear him taking off the rest of his leathers and waiting in anticipation until his hands fell on your hips, rubbing them softly. 

“Gods, you are so beautiful,” he murmured, one hand trailing up your back and gently moving your hair to one side so he could see your face. His cock rubbed against your folds, gathering your wetness. “Fuck and so ready for me.” 

“Azriel, please,” you begged. You could feel yourself gripping around nothing, needing to be filled by him and him only. 

“One day, I’m going to worship your entire body,” he grunted. “But I need you, angel. I need you right now.” 

“Please,” you begged again. “Take me. I’m yours.” 

Azriel slammed into you so quickly, it knocked the breath from your lungs. You moaned at the feel of him, at being stretched so thoroughly. He waited a moment, his breathing labored, allowing you to adjust before he slid back out and roughly thrust back in. 

“Say it again,” he growled, taking a brutal pace, slamming into you over and over again. 

You whimpered, “I’m yours.” 

“Again,” he snarled, his pounding into you causing the whole bed to shake. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the intense pleasure. Your whole body was tingling at his touch, at his words. “I’m yours, Azriel. I’m yours.” 

One hand stayed on your hip to help keep you in place while the other slithered up your back and into your hair, fisting it again. He pulled your head back, exposing your neck as he drilled into you. Your back arched as you cried out at the feeling. You had already been so turned on, your orgasm was quickly building. 

“More,” you groaned. “More, Azriel, please.”

He growled and yanked you up by your hair, pulling your body flush against his. The new angle felt deeper, his cock brutally hitting you in that sweet spot that had you seeing stars. His hand traveled from your waist to your breasts, squeezing and caressing them. Your head fell back against his shoulder as your body arched into his touch. 

He released your hair to rub circles on your clit, leaving you both breathless and screaming. 

Your body was entirely his in this moment. He controlled every ounce of your pleasure, every cry that came from your lips. You had never reveled in giving yourself up like this before. Not until Azriel came. 

“Azriel…I’m gonna….I’m gonna,” you panted, the lewd noise of skin smacking together the only other sound in the room.  

“Be a good girl and cum for me angel,” he whispered, huskily, in your ear. 

His words pushed you over the edge and your orgasm slammed into you. Your entire body clenched around him as waves and waves of pleasure crested through you. Your vision went white hot with it. Azriel’s name fell from your lips like a Devil’s prayer. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, fucking you through your orgasm. Until you finally came down from your high, your body slumping in his hold. He let you fall to the soft bed, your face smashing against the cushions as he held you up by your hips. His rhythm became desperate, feral until he finally came, burying himself in you with a loud growl. 

You were both still panting as he slid out of you with a hiss and fell to the bed next to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled your body on top of his, letting his wings stretch out. You laid a cheek on his chest, feeling safe as he wrapped both arms around you. 

“Don’t leave this time,” you whispered. 

Azriel kissed the top of your head. “I won’t.”

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Three days later, you were sitting in Lydia’s office, your nightgown covered in blood, a numb look on your face. Keir was standing before you, leaning against her desk with his arms crossed as he sneered down at you. 

The burning on your ring finger was lingering, one of the tally marks gone. 

“Lydia tells me that the shadowsinger has taken a special interest in you,” Keir said, stroking his jaw. Your eyes remained distant, staring past him to the wall. 

The blood was still warm on your skin and you knew the body lying in your bed hadn’t even stiffened. You knew better than to talk during these meetings, allowing Keir and Lydia to converse with each other while you sat there. 

“Show me your hand,” Keir ordered. 

You lifted your arm, holding it outstretched to him. He took it, twisting it to see your ring finger.

“She only has one mark left, my Lord,” Lydia added from behind her desk. 

“I see that,” Keir said, letting your hand drop. “Your last target is the shadowsinger. Kill him and you will have completed our bargain and will be free to go.” 

Your heart dropped into your stomach, your eyes going wide as you finally looked at the male standing above you. “W-what?” 

“You heard me, girl,” he snarled. “Kill the shadowsinger and you’re free to go.”

Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. 

Keir’s words played in your head over and over again as you made your way to the bathing chambers to finally wash the blood of your latest target off you. 

Kill Azriel and you’d finally be free to leave this place. Finally free to take all the money you’d been saving up and leave this damned court to build a new life for yourself. The dream you’d had all along. Kill Azriel and your dream of being free would finally come true. 

Kill Azriel.   

Kill Azriel or…don’t and end up stuck here, lost in The Labyrinth forever. 

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

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[luvjunie]

— braiding his hair

pairing: earth 42!miles x fem!reader

summary: Miles is very particular when it comes to how his hair looks, so he doesn’t let just anyone put their hands in his head. His mom has been braiding it for him since he was in middle school, and he’d found no reason to change routine until you’d randomly expressed interest one day. wc: 702

contains: fluff, fem!reader, envisioned as black!reader but not specified

word bank: “está bien, mi amor” - it’s okay, my love

You were dedicated on teaching yourself how to cornrow/dutch braid specifically for your boyfriend, Miles; having practiced on your little brother a few times before you proposed the idea. And while you could braid normally, you weren’t very well versed in braids to the scalp— those were an entirely different ballgame.

The first time he agreed to sit between your legs, handed you the rat tail comb, and simultaneously reached behind him to tug on his hair-tie and release his hair from the low ponytail it was in, you quickly understood why he kept it braided back. It was massive, and there was so much of it. Even with the sides of his hair faded you were still trying to figure out how it had this much volume. His curls were thick, coily in some places, silky and curled in others, falling just a bit below his shoulders. Hell, you were almost jealous.

It was as if he could read your mind from his seated position on the floor, his back to you, legs criss-crossed and you on his desk chair. “I got a lotta hair, huh?” He nearly felt the act of your hands experimentally hovering over the area, a chuckle falling from his lips before he asked you, “You sure you got it, Mami?” He turned just slightly to peer over his shoulder. “I can always ask my moms to-“

You hastily cut him off, “No, no!” Sounding a little more enthusiastic than you planned, heat spread up the expanse of your throat as you cleared it and sat up straighter, managing to instill some confidence in yourself. “I wanna try.”

And he’s more than willing to let you. You’re his girl after all, basically the only person he trusts other than his mother, so with a surrendered raise of his hands, he nods and leans back once again. “Aight then, do ya thing.”

It took a little longer than some simple braids should, and when you finally finished and reached forward to offer him the hand mirror, you had to restrain from anxiously nibbling at the skin on the inside of your lip. “How’d I do?” You queried quietly, hands gently resting over his lean shoulders.

You watched closely as he turned from cheek to cheek to look over your work in the mirror, brows raising in slight disbelief his bottom lip sticking out in a manner of approval as he nodded. “Damn, Ima little surprised, can’t lie.” He quipped, giving as much of a smile as someone like him gave. “You sure this your first time doing this?”

“I practiced on my little brother once or twice.” You shifted in your seat, the apples of your cheeks tight from your growing grin.“They’re not nearly as good as how your mom does them, though.” Your head tilted as you examined the plaits.

“No, está bien mi amor. They’re perfect, I fuck with them.” He set the mirror down next to him, leaning his head back to rest on your thighs.

“Really?” You felt excitement bubble in your stomach, heart swelling with pride as he expressed his satisfaction.

“Mhmm,” He hummed, long lashes fluttering up at you. “But what I like more is how you learned how to do it just for me. You gon’ be my new hairstylist, hermosa?” He licked his lips, and instantly you were distracted, his accent clinging onto his words as they rolled off his tongue.

You accidentally tuned out his question for a second, the smirk on his face and the way his eyes held contact with yours so intensely had your mind genuinely trying to wrap itself around how he looked this handsome even while upside down. “Hm?” You blinked away the thoughts, blushing when his impish grin widened, pearly whites peeking at your inability to concentrate. “Oh!- Yes… If you want me to be.” You nodded, a smile painting your face to match his.

- please do not copy, plagiarize, or repost my works on any other platform.

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated!!

[jarofstyles]

3:33

Helloooo and happy spooky season. I finally have something scary-ish to put up for you guys

This is a Demon!H fic, which means he is not following all the same morals as most humans have. He is manipulative and kinda fucked in the head but he is obsessed with Y/N.

Check out our Patreon for early access and 200+ exclusive writings

WC- 6k

Warnings- demon!H, manipulation, allusions to stalking behavior, supernatural elements, spitting, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, cum play, choking, impact play (spanking), slight corruption vibes, selling your soul, etc etc etc

She sat in the dark, waiting for him.

He came every night. It was like clockwork, time ticking away with each beat of the moving hands, little ticks thrumming louder until it matched her pulse. Sitting under the fluffy duvet, she felt the familiar fear trickling down her spine- but the excitement was beginning to outshine the cool flush that he originally brought in.

As humiliating as it may be to admit to anyone else, she chose the babydoll she dressed her body in for him. A soft satin with lace cups to caress her breasts, a creamy color complimenting her deeply. Her cheeks felt hot as she sat with her legs criss crossed, fiddling with the hair tossed over her shoulder as her eyes looked towards the clock.

3:32. It was almost time. One minute.

The first time he had come, she had tried to scream but he took that ability from her. The man wasn’t human. His eyes devoid of color, his smile haunting but beautiful, she had frozen as she laid in her bed with sweat trickling down her neck and tears lacing her waterline. And all he’d done was caress her cheek. Laugh at her. Tell her he’d come back next time, and when he did, she shouldn’t be so loud- screeching annoyed him. 

So she did.

Harry. Harry. Harry. That was his name. He’d known hers, but he didn’t tell her how. He was a demon, he said. He knew all he wanted to know about her. He was always watching.

3:33. Her spine stiffened as she felt the room heat up significantly as the door to her closet moved.

 He was here.

Harry stepped out of the shadows, his form shimmering into sight with an almost unnoticeable ripple. His eyes were on her, watching as her breath hitched and her hands tightened on the soft fabric of the blankets. She looked good, dressed up like that. So innocent, so pure. Such a pretty thing for a human. It’s what drew him to her, the poor thing. Such an unfortunate curse for a human, to capture the unwavering attention of a demonic man. Her kindness, her weakness for all things soft and small. She was a good person, and had a good heart. And it only served to make him want to dirty her up. Take all of that for himself.

He approached the bed, his steps silent as he stalked towards her like a predator. His eyes never left hers, watching as her pupils dilated with fear and something else. Excitement. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath hitching each time he took a step closer. He could see the pulse in her neck fluttering wildly, and he felt an almost irresistible urge to lean down and sink his teeth into her flesh. To mark her.

His fingers curled around the footboard of her bed, knuckles turning white as he fought to control himself. His nails, sharp and black like obsidian, dug into the wood, leaving deep marks as he dragged them down. His own chest heaved, the white dress shirt unbuttoned to reveal his pale, muscled chest. Each breath pulled the fabric taut.

It was silent between them for a moment. Just observation. Monster and human, watching one another in curiosity. He felt increasingly drawn to the woman by the day, and she found herself wishing for his presence at night. Getting restless until he came to her. Just as he’d hoped. This time, though, he let her be the one to break the silence.

“Hi.” She whispered, licking her dry lip as her hands fisted the duvet in her lap. What more could be said in the moment? He usually led the conversation, he was the one who seemed to know more about her, but the interest of her own had been raised. Building day by day, bubbling under her skin.

Harry’s lips twitched as he watched her. His eyes flickered down to her lips, watching as her pink tongue darted out to lick the plump bottom one. He could see her pulse fluttering in her neck, the delicate hollow of her throat bobbing as she swallowed nervously. Her fear was so delicious. The most pure sort of fear, one he wanted to have on tap.

“Hello, Angel.” He finally responded, his voice like velvet. A deep, rich rumble that seemed to reverberate through the very room itself. His tongue darted out, licking over his teeth as he watched her. “I do like the outfit choice. Very much.” His eyes roamed down the length of her, appreciating the way the lace cups held her breasts. “A little too much, if I’m being honest. Did you pick it for me?”

Y/N knew she couldn’t lie to him. She didn’t have much of a choice. It was impossible to, not when he was around- and she had tried. He’d managed to undo a lot of layers in her.

“Yes.” She confirmed with a nod. “I-I… I’m not positive why.” It was the truth, too. Her mind was slightly confused. She knew she was attracted to him, that she had come to find him to haunt her dreams in the most filthy and inappropriate way when she went to sleep, but she wasn’t the most outgoing when it came to being seductive. and certainly not with a man who wasn’t human. She had no idea what indulging what got herself into, and yet she felt the overwhelming pull to do so.

Harry grinned wide, his teeth sharp as he stepped closer to her on the bed. “Oh, I think you know. You’re just a little afraid to admit it to yourself, that’s all.” His hand came up, long fingers curling around her chin as he tilted her head back to look up at him. “You’re attracted to me, Angel. You want me.” His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, pushing gently until her mouth parted slightly. “Say it.”

His eyes bore into hers, unblinking and intense. His touch was firm. Unyielding. He wouldn’t back down until she gave him what he wanted. His thumb pushed a little further into her mouth, pressing against her teeth. “I know that we’ve been having our nightly visits and you sit with those deer like eyes and stare up at me, less afraid and more excited each time I step up to your bed. You lean into my touch. A sweet little human like you, it’s unheard of really.” It’s part of the fun. Harry loved that bit of it. Her confusion over it and yet she gave into the innermost desires. “Why don’t you push those blankets off, sit up on your knees.”

“Keep your eyes on mine the whole time, understand?” His voice was deep and smooth, but there was an undercurrent of demand that left no room for argument. He released his fingers from her mouth and stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers as he waited for her to follow his instructions. Once she did, he stood in front of her with a hint of a smile. Just a little bit, his lip tilted up with a smidgen of dimple showing as he slid his knuckles over her jawline and down to her thundering pulse. “There. You follow directions well, mm?”

He continued his exploration down, finding the straps of the babydoll she’d put on in his honor. “And this… Did you put this on to tempt me?” He sucked his teeth for a second, pulling on the elastic and letting it snap back into place. “Or what, little angel? What’s the purpose?”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as he touched her, his knuckles rough against her skin. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, even standing this close to him. Her heart pounded in her chest, echoing in her ears as she did as he asked, keeping her eyes locked on his. She felt a shiver run down her spine as he cupped her jaw, his thumb brushing over her lip. "I-I..." She stammered, her words catching in her throat as he touched her. His voice was so commanding, so sure of himself. It was both intimidating and exhilarating. Y/N could feel the traitorous heat spreading through her body, settling between her legs. "I... I put it on because I thought you'd like it." She admitted, her voice hesitant. "I don't know why..." She trailed off, shaking her head slightly. What had she expected? 

Harry’s smile widened, revealing more of his teeth. “You don’t know why… or you don’t want to admit it to yourself? C’mon, sweetheart. We’ve been over it.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. “Because I think you do. I think you want me to like it. Want me to touch you… Want me to fuck you…” His hand moved from her jaw to the strap of her babydoll, pulling it down her shoulder. 

“I think you’ve been having dreams about me stroking your skin, licking all over you, getting deeper inside that sopping cunt than any of those pathetic men that keep trying to ask you on dates at your job could ever do. I think that it’s ironic that since I’ve revealed myself to you, you’ve barely been giving any man the time of day. And yet…” He dragged down the other strap, letting his nail drag against her fragile skin. “You put on the sweetest scented lotions for me. You do your hair nice and pretty, you make your skin so fucking soft… because you want me to touch you. You put on little outfits you want me to take off.” It made him chuckle under his breath, the entire demeanor of him towering over her slightly terrifying and fully exhilarating. Arousing, almost. “It’s so cute, it’s pathetic.”

Her breath caught in her throat as he leaned in close, his voice dropping to that gravelly whisper. She felt her body tense as he spoke, her heart pounding harder in her chest. He was so forward, so crude. And yet… it sent a jolt of heat between her legs. She could feel her body reacting to his words, her panties damp and her peaked nipples straining against the satin of her babydoll.

Harry’s hand moved from her shoulder to her breast, cupping it firmly in his palm. He could feel the hard bud of her nipple pressing against his skin. He broke away from her gaze, looking down at the mounds of flesh spilling out of the top of her nightgown. “Look at that… so eager for my touch.” He chuckled darkly, his thumb rubbing over the peak of her nipple through the fabric. “Do you want me to touch you, pretty human? As lovely as it is to have you speechless, I need you to open that mouth and start talking.”

He continued to rub over her, his touch making her melt. So unusual, like she’s been dipped in thick, warm water. Y/N could feel her body responding, her breath coming in short gasps as pleasure coursed through her. She bit her lip, struggling to find the words he wanted to hear. "Y-yes..." She finally managed to whisper, her voice barely audible as she managed to get it out of her throat. "I want you to touch me." She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I want you to do... everything you said."

Harry’s grin was wicked as he listened to her speak. “Good girl. That’s what I wanted to hear.” He murmured, his hand moving from her breast to the hem of her nightgown. He slowly began to pull it up, his knuckles brushing against her stomach and sides. “Now… let’s see what you’ve got hidden beneath this.” As the fabric reached her ribs, he paused, looking down at her body. “You know, I’ve been wondering what you’d feel like. I hadn’t anticipated your desperation. Most humans stay terrified, like the first time I revealed myself to you. Their hearts pounding and their blood feeling like ice. But I knew you’d be different.”

 His fingertips were hot as they caressed her stomach, the other hand lightly brushed the hair from her shoulder. “So sweet, yet so brave. Got a monster in your room, n’yet here you go… dressing up for him. Getting all slick between the thighs for him.”

Without breaking eye contact, he slowly dragged her nightgown up until it was bunched around her waist, exposing her lower half to him. Her breathing grew shallow as she felt the cool air brush against her bare skin. His fingers slowly traced up her thighs, gently parting her legs further.  “Look at that.” Her body was beautiful. “See? You’ve got such an angelic body, and you want me to do such filthy, nasty, depraved things to it.” He clicked his tongue, watching her shiver. “I can smell how wet you are, little thing. S’pathetic. Sweet little angel, dripping all over those pretty panties you chose for your demon t’see you in. Ought t’just leave you here to take care of yourself.”

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed as his fingers danced up her thighs, parting her legs further. A soft moan escaped her lips as a rush of heat pooled between her thighs. Her breath hitched in her throat as he spoke, his words sending shivers down her spine. She could feel her face growing hot, embarrassment mixing with arousal. "No!" she squeaked, her voice pitched as her eyes widened up at him. The idea of him leaving her like this was the last thing she wanted to happen. "Please, don't leave me like this..."

Harry chuckled darkly, enjoying the way her desperation made her voice quiver. “Like what, pretty human? All hot and bothered, with no relief in sight? Aching to be touched, toyed with, filled? All because of little old me?” His fingers continued to trace patterns on her skin, coming agonizingly close to where she needed them most but never quite touching.

Without warning, a hand tangled in her hair, pulling to arch her head back. The little gasp fueled him, the desperation in the human’s face almost humorous at this point. It hurt her a little, the grip, but he could smell that she liked it. “I thought you were this sweet little thing when I first saw you. Picking those flowers in the garden to bring to your neighbor, baking things to bring to nurses, walking those little animals at the shelter, offering directions to people you barely knew.” Her humid cunt was so close to his fingers but he only slightly brushed over the damp fabric with his knuckles. “I knew that there had to be something wrong with you. Jus’ didn’t think it would be that you’d get wet for a monster like me.”

He leaned down, his voice a dark growl in her ear. “But now I see it. You’re not just some sweet little thing. You’re a nasty, desperate little slut, aren’t you? All dressed up in your pretty panties and nightgown, just waiting for me to come and fuck you.” His tongue darted out, licking the shell of her ear. “And I will fuck you, pretty human.”

His breath was hot against her ear as he spoke, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Let me tell you what I’m gonna do.” His hand released her hair, instead tracing down her neck, between her breasts, and down her stomach. “I’m gonna tear these pretty little things you’ve got on to shreds, and then…” His fingers hooked under the hem of her damp underwear, pulling it tight against her before snapping it. “M’gonna make sure that tight little cunt is nice n’thoroughly soaked so it takes my cock a bit easier. I’m not the patient type when it comes to this sort of thing.”

He leaned down and captured her lips in a brutal, dominating kiss. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, claiming her as his. The demon bit her lower lip, making it bleed just slightly, before sucking on it and letting go with a pop. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he growled against her mouth, before kissing her again, harder this time. His hand gripped her face, holding her still for his kiss, his thumb digging into her cheeks.

As his kiss deepened, his hand snaked down between her thighs once more. His thumb found her swollen nub and began to rub slow, firm circles around it. She gasped into his mouth, her hips bucking against his hand. He chuckled against her lips, his grip tightening on her face to keep her in place. "Shh, little thing," he whispered against her mouth, his voice dark and mocking. "This is just the beginning."

His touch became more insistent, his thumb rubbing her fast and hard, like he knew she liked it. He broke the kiss to watch her face as he kept her head back, mouth open for him to do as he pleased. His other hand gripped her jaw, forcing her to keep her face tilted up towards him. "Look at me," he ordered, his voice low. "Look at me while I touch you- keep that mouth open."

"Good girl." he praised, as she whimpered, her breath hitching as he sped up his pace. Without warning, he spit into her open mouth, watching as she tried to swallow it reflexively. "Mmm, that’s it. Swallow it all down." He leaned in, his tongue darting in to lick up what was left of his saliva from the corners of her lips. "You’d let me do anything I wanted to, wouldn’t you?”

His voice was laced with dark amusement as he continued to rub her swollen clit, feeling her grow even wetter from his treatment. Poor little thing really needed a proper fuck, and no human would be able to give it to her. "Answer me, pretty human. You'd let me do anything, wouldn't you?" His grip on her jaw tightened, his thumb pressing down hard on her chin, making her open her mouth wider. "Nod if you'll be a good little toy for me."

She nodded eagerly, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment before flying back open to meet his gaze. He grinned wickedly, his hand moving faster, his touch firmer. "Good girl. You'll take whatever I give you, won't you?" He leaned down, his hot breath washing over her face. "You'll take my fingers, my thick tongue, my cock, my spit... " He paused, his eyes glinting mischievously. “My cum.”

Y/n let out a high-pitched whine, her body shaking slightly as he spoke. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, she nodded frantically, her hands clenching into fists at her sides as she tried to hold herself together. "Uh-huh.” The feeling was almost trance like as she rocked her hips against his hand, his dark eyes boring into her own as she felt her own lull from the heat of pleasure simmering in her lower stomach. The grip he had on her left no room for argument but she didn’t want to. As long as he didn’t stop, she was happy.

He knew he had her right where he wanted her. She was so close now, her face prickled with sweat, her breath coming in short pants. He could see the desperation in her eyes, the plea for release. But he wasn’t ready to give it to her just yet. He slowed his touch, his thumb barely brushing over her swollen bud. "Not yet, little thing," he murmured, his voice mockingly gentle. “Lay back and spread your legs. Let me see that cunt.”

Y/n hesitated for a moment, his words making her feel exposed and vulnerable, but the need for release was too great. She slowly laid back, spreading her legs wide apart as he demanded. He let out a low whistle, his gaze raking over her dripping pussy. "Fuck, you're soaked," he said, his voice filled with appreciation. He reached out, his fingers dipping into her folds, spreading her open even wider. "Shouldn’t have waited this long. If I’d known you were gagging for it like this... Well, I’d have bent you over a few nights ago."

He leaned down between her thighs, his hot breath washing over her wet slit. Fucking finally. As delicious as her fear had been at first, he preferred this. Seeing her spread out and so desperate for him that she was near tears. She squirmed, her hips lifting off the bed, inviting him in- and that’s all the push he needed. He grinned against her, his hands gripping her thighs and pushing them back even further. "Greedy little thing, you’ll get what I give you." he chuckled darkly, his tongue snaking out to lap at her. She cried out, her back arching, her hands fisting the sheets beneath her.

He licked her slowly, his tongue flat against her pussy, lapping up her juices. She tasted so fucking good, he could eat her out all night- but he had other plans. He focused on her clit, circling it with the tip of his tongue, feeling it swell under his touch. "Harry- Sir.." She whimpered, her hands finding their way to his hair, gripping it tightly. Maybe she shouldn’t be touching a demon so liberally but she wasn’t thinking about anything other than the pleasure building up in her stomach. "Please, please... I need t’cum."

He hummed against her, the vibrations sending shivers through her entire body. He could feel her nearing the edge, her breath hitching, her grip on his hair tightening. He pulled back at the last second, smiling cruelly when she let out a frustrated cry. "Not yet." he chided, his hands gripping her thighs and flipping her onto her stomach. He pushed her upper body down into the mattress, lifting her hips up to meet him. “You’d think that such a nice girl would have better manners. Follow instructions, little human. Your orgasm belongs to me. I say when it happens.” His hand came down rough against her ass, making her jolt.

He brought his hand down again, the sound of his palm meeting her soft flesh filling the room. Y/N whimpered, her face burying into the sheets, her back arching as she tried to meet each smack of his hand. Despite the stinging pain, her body still yearned for release. She could feel her juices sliding down her thighs, her body tensing with anticipation as she waited for him to touch her again. Any touch, anything the demon gave her was something she was hungry for. 

“Fuck. Look at you.” He was genuinely impressed at how well she took it, how much she liked it. The woman was dripping, soaking fucking wet, and it was all because of him. His ego was plenty big, but it only served to swell it further. “Such a slut.” His voice dropped low. “I think you’re plenty wet to take my cock now, considering you can’t sit still for a second.”

He crawled up her body, his weight pressing down on her back as he leaned over her body, one hand between them slipping his cock over her slick cunt. His hips lowered, his hot flesh parting the folds and he nudged her clit. "You sure you can handle it, little thing?" He murmured against her ear, his breath hot on her skin.

“Yeah, I can. I can do it, just put it in me. Please.” Even when she was being edged, she managed to be polite. How darling.

His hips slowly rolled, the thick head of his erection easing into her. It wasn’t the easiest thing, but she was so slick that it helped. The poor pussy was stretched as he sunk in, fluttering around him as it tried to get used to the intrusion- and it would. Harry would make sure of it. “Fuck!” He heard her gasp, her fingers clenching on the sheets beneath them. "So...big." She whimpered, the words muffled by the bedding. He chuckled darkly, his arms wrapping around her waist and lifting her up onto her knees, her back arching to meet his chest.

“I am big. And you’re taking it like a good little angel. Aren’t you?” He started to move, his hips slowly rolling beneath her, his cock sliding in and out of her in languid pulls. 

She let out a low moan, her head falling back against his shoulder, her body melting into his. “Yes-I’m taking it… I’m taking your cock…” she whimpered, her voice filled with pleasure. It was something different altogether. Sparks of heat all over her body, his strength keeping her up, the most full she had ever felt, and she wondered how she had ever lived without this feeling before.

“You are. Filthy little fucktoy, finally serving your purpose." His voice was a dark purr in her ear, his hot breath washing over her neck. His hips rolled against hers, his strong hand reaching up to hold her throat. She could hear the wet sounds of their bodies meeting, the squelching noises of how turned on she was, and he was more than happy to point it out. "Listen to that. That's the sound of you being so eager for me."

His grip on her throat tightened just a bit as he slowing increased his pace, gucking up into her harder. The new angle had his cock hitting a  spot inside of her that had her gasping, hand grabbing at his forearm to try and ground herself at the stimulation. it was overwhelming in the best way, making her feel a new sense of frenzied she’d never had before, "Fuck, right there. Don't stop, m’begging you- it’s so good." She slurred out, her hips rolling back to meet his thrusts. Her pussy clenched around him like a vice, fluttering and squeezing his thick length.

"That's it, little angel. You can take it. Fucking milk my cock." His pace was relentless , inhuman stamina helping him keep her right where he wanted her. It was too fucking good.

After all the time he’s spent watching her, dipping his toes inside her dreams and planting seeds in her mind to help her want him, he was taking what he wanted. She was loving it. He’d known he’d give it to her good, that she’d never be able to compare him to a human because there wasn’t a chance in hell they could give her what he could -pun intended- but his obsession with the sweet little human was far more engrained in him than he thought. She genuinely loved this. There was no way he could even compel her to respond like this. The girl was eager and he was going to give it to her. He could feel her tightening around him, her body quaking as the pressure built. "You want to cum, don't you slutty girl? Want to cum on my cock?"

"Yes, fuck- I'm so close. Please, please let me cum.” The begging was music to his ears. Matched with how she felt wrapped around him, he knew he was going to come back for more. This was his human now. No take backs. “I'll do anything, just please let me cum on your cock" She was practically sobbing with need, her pussy clenching and fluttering wildly around him, trying to milk his throbbing cock. The wet squelching noises were obscene, her arousal dripping down his shaft and making a mess over his balls but he loved every bit of it.

“Oh, you’ll get it. I’ll let you have it, little angel." He cooed in her ear, his pace slowing as his hips rolled forward, burying himself to the hilt inside her and holding there. His strong hand left her throat and reached down, his fingers slipping between them. Fingertips pressed  against her little bud, rolling it between his thick digits. “For a price.”

She whimpered as he stilled within her, her head turning to nuzzle her nose against his cheek as she tried to beg for more. His fingers on her swollen bud had her back arching further, her hips rolling to meet the pressure, "Oh, anything. Anything, jus’ let me cum.” she whined, her breath hitching as he bullied her clit with his circles. So mean, so good.  “What do you w-want?”

“Your soul.” He purred softly, shallowly thrusting inside of her. “All you need to do is promise yourself to me, sweet angel. Give me your soul, devote yourself to me… and you can have my cock every single night. No one else can have this pussy- but you won’t want to give it to anyone else.” The words were whispered in a soothing tone, mumbled against her cheek.

She whimpered at the promise, her arm wrapping back around his neck tighter as she felt like he was asking for more than her body. She bit her bottom lip, hesitating as she tried to think through the haze of pleasure. It felt hard to think when all she could comprehend was how right it felt to be stuffed to the brim with his fat cock. Every nerve ending was singing his praises. His hands kept up their work, his hips slowly rolling forward to bury himself to the hilt within her. The sensation was heavenly, and she wanted more. "You-you promise? Every night?" Her voice was breathy, needy.

“As long as you give me your soul and give me your devotion, yes. It’s the only way you’ll get me. Get this.” His fingers quickened on her clit, the other hand gently pressing the sides of her throat. “Tell me that you belong to me, mind body and soul, and I’ll let you cum. I’ll fill you with my cum and fuck it into you so you can feel it when you go do all your good deeds tomorrow before crawling back into bed, so you can wait for another load from the very opposite of what you stand for.”

She shuddered, her eyes fluttering shut as his words washed over her. The pleasure was so intense, her mind hazing over until only his voice and touch remained. She could feel herself teetering on the edge, desperate for release. His fingers on her throat made her feel so small, so owned. The thought of being filled with his sinful essence, a secret sin that would fuel her righteous deeds... it was fucked up, but it made her clench around him needily.

“Answer me, Angel. Give yourself to me and I’ll give you my cum. You’ll feel it trickling out of you as you lay in bed tomorrow morning, remember my touch. Remember that you’re mine.” He leaned into her, his teeth nipping at her earlobe. His fingers were relentless, the hand on her throat tightening ever so slightly. “Tell me.” 

Her voice was high-pitched, desperate as she gasped. Maybe she’d wake up tomorrow and regret this, but for now she couldn’t. Swimming in the hazy waters that was the overwhelming pleasure the demon could hand her, she wanted the endless supply.  "I'm yours! Mind, body, soul... it's all yours. Please, please give me what I need. I-I'll remember, I promise. I'll remember that I belong to you." She could barely speak, her breathing hitching as she grew closer and closer to the peak. Her hips jerked against his grasp, silently begging for more.

As the words left her lips, Harry could feel her surrendering to him completely. Her soul, her very essence, now belonged to him. With a deep, rumbling growl of satisfaction, he captured her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing her cries as he finally allowed her to cum. His fingers on her clit increased pressure and speed, pushing her over the edge into ecstasy.

Her body stiffened, her head tilting back to break the kiss as her mouth hung open in a silent scream. His hips surged forward, burying himself deep as he let out a dark laugh, malicious in nature as he felt the binding take hold. He swelled inside of her, her inner walls fluttering and clenching around him as her release claimed her.

As he felt her surrender, Harry's own orgasm ripped through him like a freight train. His eyes rolled back, his teeth clenching in a snarl as he began to cum inside of her. His arm held her up, lightly pinching her clit to make her clench around him as he pulsed shot after shot into her, rocking his hips into her- he wanted every drop inside of his new possession. His claim to take. His cum was thick and hot, filling her to the brim as he emptied himself into her. It seeped out of her, dripping down her thighs as he finally slowed, his orgasm subsiding. He pulled out of her, his softening prick leaving her hole open. Pushing her back down into the mattress, he pressed her face into the pillow as he examined his handiwork.

He spread her apart, admiring the way his seed was leaking out of her. So fucking filthy and wrong for a girl who acted like an angel, but at night she had promised herself to the devil. And that couldn’t be undone. He smirked darkly, knowing that by tomorrow, it would have soaked into her, a constant reminder of him. What they’d done. She’d never be able to escape it. Running a finger along her crease, he gathered some of the excess before bringing it up to her face. "Open up. Have a taste." he commanded, pressing his digit against her lips.

With a soft sigh, she parted her lips and allowed his finger to slip inside. Her eyes fluttered closed as she tentatively tasted his essence, a salty and slightly bitter tang coating her tongue. It was the taste of sin, of forbidden fruit, and she couldn't help but suck his finger clean, her cheeks hollowing out. When he withdrew, she let out a soft, needy sound, her face coated with embarrassment and desire. This wasn’t her, it wasn’t a way she’d ever acted with anyone else, but the monster had effectively trapped her in his clutches- and she had no wish for escape, either. Her legs felt like jelly, her skin flushed and hot in the best way, the orgasm nearly having made her pass out. It was safe to say she had been fucked stupid.

Satisfied with her compliance, Harry grinned. Really grinned, teeth and dimples and all. He ran his hands over her back and bottom, squeezing the softness of her possessively. His. It was all his now. After months of watching and waiting, of his nightly visits, she had given in. "You're going to stay like this for a little while longer, alright?" He didn't wait for her response, instead, he flipped her over and pushed her thighs apart, spreading her wet, messied hole wide. "I want you to lie here, like this, and think about who you belong to."

Her arms were splayed above her head, her fingers clutching at the sheets. Her chest rose and fell with quickened breaths, and her eyes were locked onto his, watching as he ran his fingers along her inner thighs, occasionally dipping down to toy with her, keeping her on edge. "You're mine, aren't you?" His voice was low, almost hypnotic. "Say it. Remind me of what I already know." His thumb brushed against her swollen nub, making her gasp.

“I’m yours.” She breathed, eyes opening from their state of rest. The man was hauntingly beautiful, brutal lines and soft skin, hot and silky, and all she knew was that her brain could only remember his name and one sentence to spill out of her swollen mouth. “I belong to you, mind, body and soul. I am happy to be yours.”

There was no turning back now. 

3:33

[prythianpages]

Strange Love | Azriel

Azriel x Green Witch | Summary: In which your daughter, Alora, nearly sends Azriel into a mini crisis when she tells you she has a boyfriend.

warnings: fluff, Az stressing out over his baby girl

word count: 2,700

a/n: This can be read as a stand alone Dad Az fic! Here we have another fic inspired by a Bob's Burgers episode lol. I also wanted to show more of older Mel since we only got a glimpse of her so far.

The house is peaceful and quiet, save for the comforting rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock. A glance at it and Azriel knows the quiet won’t last much longer. Or the peace.

He leans back into the armchair, savoring the warmth of the steaming cup of tea in his hands—a special brew you created just for him many years ago. "A one-of-a-kind brew for a one-of-a-kind male," you had said. You sit beside him on the love seat, legs criss-crossed, with a spell book hovering in front of you, green magic surrounding you. Though it doesn’t look like it, the spells in your ancient book are endless, and judging by the darkened look in your eyes, he senses you must be reading about a new one.

His attention is once more drawn away from the book in his hands as his eyes land on the portrait that hangs over the grand fireplace. It is a family portrait you had commissioned from Feyre years ago. His lips tug up into a fond smile as he remembers the day you all gathered to pose for Feyre. It was hectic and chaotic and full of promises to your daughters to get them to stay still long enough for Feyre to complete her sketch.

It was all worth it, even if it resulted in you giving in to Mel's request and brewing a laughing potion. That she then slipped into Cassian's twins's drinks during your weekly dinners, driving everyone insane...

 You sat on a shorter stool than Azriel, perfectly situated between his legs. His gaze lingers on you, admiring the way Feyre captured your beauty. Your familiar, Binx, was on your lap while your pet spider, Pearl, rested on one of your shoulders. 

Unfortunately, Pearl passed shortly after the portrait was completed. You preserved her web with your own magic, allowing it to stand magnificently in the corner of your living room. Melaina, your firstborn, crocheted a replica of Pearl that now rests in that web, a touching tribute to the beloved spider that had spent so many years with you. Pearl herself was laid to rest in the forest, a serene place you visit often.

A young Melaina stood on his right, holding her pet scorpion as if it were a mere pup—the only reason she smiled for the portrait. Now a teenager, it’s a miracle if she smiles that brightly, preferring to don a cool mask instead. She’s just like her father in many ways.

Alora, your second born, had just turned three at the time. She was happy to clutch onto her father’s left arm, leaning into him, with the widest of toothy grins. Both of his wings were curled protectively around his favorite girls, a genuine smile of his own gracing his face.

It is a beautiful portrait, one that captures the magic and love in his little family well.

Azriel’s shadows begin to sing excitedly, the black cat curled up by his feet, lifting its head toward the door.

The door slams open, like it does every weekday at this hour. Mel walks in first, giving both him and you a nod in greeting. There’s a spark of mischief in those hazel eyes of hers but before either of you could question it, her shadows are wrapping around her and hiding her away from view as she runs to her room, still not having mastered winnowing. 

Teenagers.

Lor walks in next, hazel eyes bright and full of dreams. She’s mumbling and giggling to herself, making Azriel’s ears and shadows perk, straining to discern her words. She looks at Azriel first, then at you. “Mommy, Daddy,” she says in greeting, closing the door softly behind her and resting against it. She lets out a deep sigh.

“I’m in love.”

And there it was. That destruction of peace and quiet.

Azriel spits out his tea, choking on the curse he wanted to say but thought better against. His shadows are quick to run down his back in a soothing manner and you shoot him a look. The spellbook lands gently onto your coffee table, your full attention now on your daughter.

“That’s lovely, my pretty.” You tell her. “Who’s the lucky soul?”

“Lovely?” Azriel sputters, a small glare settling onto his features. He reluctantly accepted losing Mel to teenagehood, but Lor? Lor was eleven. She still had a year or two left. The mere thought of losing her too made his wings shudder.

“She’s just a girl!”

“She’s just a girl,” you repeat, tilting your head at him in further warning, that if Azriel wasn’t so worked up, he’d laugh at.

“I think he’s my boyfriend now. I invited him over for dinner!”

“Splendid!”

“No,” Azriel shakes his head. “Uninvite him.”

“Az, my love—“

The look he sends you has your words cutting off. You bring your hand to your mouth, covering up your grin, no doubt. There’s pure amusement dancing in your eyes. This moment was no different than the time Mel had her first crush.

Lor, oblivious or choosing to be oblivious to her father’s burning stare, runs to you with a squeal. She curls into your side and you smile fondly at her.  “I’ll make your favorite tonight, my pretty,” you say, running a hand through her long hair. “Tell me all about him.”

And though Lor’s favorite was his favorite, Azriel was suddenly dreading dinner.

He lets out a huff, standing from his seat. His shadows swarmed around him, mirroring his inner turmoil. He shoots you one last look– a look of utter betrayal–before leaving the room, unable to sit there and listen to his daughter talk about how someone else was vying for his little girl’s attention. 

Yet, a single shadow lingered in the living room...

**

Azriel knew this day would come, but that day was not going to be today.

It was similar to the way he felt when Mel first brought a boy home for dinner. But also different. Mel was strong-minded and had a well guarded heart. She had also been a couple of years older. Lor was naive and wore her heart on her sleeve. It was merely a week ago that she had come home crying from school because her classmate looked at her a certain way.

Love, crushes, heartbreak—they were all parts of growing up. Something you reminded Azriel as he helped you with dinner. He knew he had to let her experience them but boyfriends? Not now.

Lor was still too young. If it were up to him, there’d be a strict no boyfriend policy until both his daughters were in their second century.

Tonight, he would meet this boy, this intruder into his daughter's heart. He would be civil, for Lor's sake. Or at least try. He’d be watching the boy's every move, ready to step in at the slightest sign of trouble.

Azriel’s thoughts swirled as he chopped vegetables, his hands moving automatically while his mind wrestled with the reality of the situation. The protective father in him balked at the idea of her being hurt, her innocent heart broken by some boy who couldn’t possibly appreciate her.

A kiss on his cheek pulled him out of his thoughts, the knife in his hand coming to a stop. “You’re sulking, my love,” you said with slight humor in your tone, setting the knife down for him. You cupped his face in your hands, thumbs smoothing out the furrows of his brows. “Don’t worry, Az. She’s only eleven. I doubt this crush is anything serious.”

“But–”

“And if it is, we’ll simply have a talk with her.” You add as an afterthought, reassuring him that you were on his side.

“I love you, you know.”

You grin at him. “Well, that’s a relief. We have been mates for many years.”

**

Azriel watches with a slight frown as Lor literally buzzes with excitement, peeking through the windows of the dining room that face the street. Binx is seated on the window sill, his tail moving and reflecting his curiosity. You take the seat beside Azriel, saving the one beside Lor for your much-anticipated guest.

Mel is crouched on the floor, sprinkling a couple of crickets to feed her pet scorpion, Sprinkles. Her shadows still, wings tensing for a brief moment. She lifts her head, turning toward Lor. “He’s here,” she announces before excusing herself to wash her hands in the kitchen.

Azriel’s own shadows slither toward the door, following after Lor. He hadn’t heard the knock Mel did but he’s shifting in his seat nonetheless. Despite today being his day off, he chose to wear his fighting leathers for dinner, wanting to look every bit the menacing Spymaster he could be.

All seven of his cobalt siphons gleam proudly.

But then Lor walks into the dining room. Alone.

“Dad, Mom,” Azriel’s lips purse at the change of title, not liking the two letter drop from either of yours. She points to her side. “This is Jace.”

Azriel blinks. Once. Twice. His shadows flutter toward the spot Lor is gesturing at only to return to him with nothing. He looks at you. But you’re just as dumbfounded.

“Oh!” Lor giggles, eyes widening in realization. “I forgot to mention he’s a ghost.”

Even more confusion clouds Azriel’s features but that confusion slowly morphs into relief. He lets out a long breath—a chuckle almost. You place your hand onto his thigh, squeezing it in warning. “Just roll with it,” you murmur quietly to him, not wanting to upset Lor. The smile that forms on your face next is strained.

“Hi Jace. Have a seat please.”

Azriel says nothing, gaze narrowing at Lor. 'Jace' might be imaginary but it did little to ease his protective instincts. It was now the idea of his youngest daughter having a boyfriend that didn’t sit well with him. He has no intentions on being friendly to Jace, especially when Lor pulls back his seat for Jace to sit at.

The tension at the dining table was palpable. You were grateful when Mel returned, her presence breaking the uncomfortable silence.

But not in the way you hoped it would.

“Oh hey, Jace.” She greets casually, turning her toward his direction. There’s a gleam in her eye, as if she’s taking in the presence beside her younger sister.  “Nice shirt.”

Azriel feels another squeeze on his thigh but it’s different this time and followed by an awkward clearing throat sound from you. It had him tensing underneath your touch.

Azriel’s shadows could pick up on things others couldn’t but Mel? Mel could not only do the same with her shadows but she could also see things others couldn’t. Her first friend had been a ghost–the ghost of Rhysand’s little sister.

And now, it seemed that Lor’s first boyfriend was a ghost.

**

"That's it. She's breaking up with him now," Azriel murmured, shaking his head with a resolute finality.

The two of you had excused yourselves to the kitchen shortly after finishing dinner. A dinner that barely lasted half an hour, yet felt like an eternity with Azriel burning a hole into the chair beside Lor’s with his piercing gaze. She giggled at whatever Jace supposedly said and did most of the talking for him, with Mel chiming in occasionally.

 Azriel’s only comfort at the moment was that Mel remained in the dining room with Lor and Jace, knowing that if the ghost tried anything, Mel would happily take care of it. He looks at you, ready for you to disagree or offer a different solution. But you merely shake your head in agreement.

“Okay,” you breathe. “I’ll have Mel help me with a séance.”

“And I’ll talk to Lor.”

The plan was set then, the two of you walking back into the dining room. A stoic expression on Azriel’s face but a coy one on yours. 

Azriel clears his throat and you give his hand a squeeze in encouragement. “Lor, can we talk?”

“But–”

“Don’t worry, sweets. Mel and I will keep Jace company.”

Lor’s hazel eyes flickered between you and Azriel. She gave a soft sigh of defeat, mumbling something to Jace as she reluctantly followed Azriel into his study a couple of doors away. You waited until they were both out of view before turning your attention to Jace.

The chair he sat in slid backwards under your scrutiny.

Something hadn’t felt right about this entire situation. You didn’t have the same gift as Mel, but years of experience had left you with keen intuition and the ability to pick up on energies. When Mel started seeing Rhysand’s little sister, you had sensed that child-like energy.

But tonight, you felt nothing of the sort.

Your eyes landed on Mel, who remained seated at the dining table. Sprinkles was on her lap, and she ran a finger down the scorpion’s spine as she looked back at you. You raised an eyebrow at her and she did the same.

When you gave her that same scrutinizing gaze you had given the so called ghost, Mel caved in.

It was then that you saw it–a single shadow revealing itself as it crept up the arm of the chair Jace was ‘sitting’ in. It tugged the chair backwards again. The corner of Mel’s lips lifted into the faintest of smirks, a small chuckle slipping from her throat.

“You made up Jace, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.” Mel replies with a shrug of her shoulders. “Maybe, I like messing with dad. Maybe, I like messing with Lor…though, Jace did make Lor the coolest girl in school today…”

**

Meanwhile, Azriel led Lor into his study, his demeanor more composed than he felt. As his shadows closed the behind them, he took a moment to gather his thoughts, trying to find the right words...

“Daddy,” Lor began hesitantly, her voice soft but curious, “how did you know you were in love with Mommy?”

Azriel was taken aback by the question, his chest tightening at the return of his usual title. He hadn’t expected such a direct inquiry, but he welcomed it. He took a deep breath, his mind drifting back to the early days with you.

By the Mother, he had been such a fool in the beginning and he probably wasn’t the best at this. Something he would tell Lor once she was older–the same way he had told Mel when she had come to him for advice on similar matters.

“Well, it wasn’t something that happened overnight. I knew your mother was someone special to me the moment I met her. But it wasn’t until I got to know her better that I fell in love. It grew from the little moments we shared and the way she understood me.”

Lor tilted her head, absorbing his words. “She told me once that you were so brave you took an arrow for her.”

Azriel chuckled, surprised that you had shared that story. He wondered how much of your story you had told her already. “I did. I’d take many more for her.”

“Wow,” Lor whispered, her hazel eyes widening with the kind of wonder and admiration he adored seeing on her.

“I’d do the same for you too.” Azriel continued, shadows sweeping over her fondly. She giggled, squirming in her seat. “I’d do anything for my girls because I love you all."

"You see, love is a deep emotion. It’s difficult to explain as everyone can experience it differently. Sometimes, it can be overwhelming and complicated. But what I can tell you is that love is not just about excitement or attraction. It’s about truly caring for someone.”

Lor listened intently and Azriel could see her processing his words, the wheels turning as she considered her own feelings. After a moment of silence, she let out a sigh. “I don’t think I’m in love then. I mean, I like Jace, but I think I like him as a friend more.”

A wave of relief washed over Azriel and he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. “You’re still growing and learning about yourself. Love will come in time, but for now, you’re too young to have a boyfriend.”

Lor nods in understanding, surprising Azriel with just how easy this conversation had been. She sunk back into the velvet armchair, a hint of concern still etched onto her face. “But I’ll find love someday, right? Like you did with mommy?”

“Someday,” Azriel smiled at Lor, reaching out to ruffle the top of her hair. “Maybe when you’re two-hundred and fifty.”

Lor gasped incredulously. “Two hundred and fifty??”

“Hey, consider yourself lucky. I was five-hundred and thirty nine when I started dating your mother.”

Lor’s jaw dropped in astonishment. A shadow gently nudged it closed. She blinked up at him, her eyes still wide.

“Jiminy crickets, you’re old!”

Azriel’s smile dropped quicker than a potion bubbling over.

a/n: I could not for the live of me come up with a better simile for that ending lol so sorry it's kind of lame. I hope I was able to convey Azriel's inner turmoil well and that you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed the idea of it.

Mel is 6 years older than Lor. I honestly don't know how aging works for fae, like what's considered age appropriate but considering Az was messing around and underwent the bloodrite in his 20s, 17 is an okay age for Mel to have, had a boyfriend? Even if Az hated that too.

series tag list:@fxckmiup, @aria-chikage

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human, @mrsjna

[vivwritesfics]

Charles jealous and possessive please 🔥 SMUT

Green Eyed Monster

Smut Warning! This work is intended for 18+ audiences only!

There was something about the rich, fancy Monaco lifestyle. Something Y/N L/N couldn't quite explain.

When her boyfriend wasn't racing on the other side of the world, when he was home in Monaco he took her out to extravagant and elegant restaurants. The kinds of places where Y/N was dressed to the nines, where all eyes were on her and she was on Charles' arm.

On this particular evening, Y/N wore a black dress with a skirt that went down to her ankles. There was a slit up the side, showing off a bit of her leg. The rest of the dress was pretty simple, tight to her body with thin straps over her shoulders. On her feet she had black feels with little straps criss crossing up her legs. Her nails were black, matching the dress.

Charles stood in his suit, watching as Y/N put on her heels. He couldn't help but stare as she finished getting ready. "Oh mon Dieu, ma chérie. Tu es superbe," (oh my god, my darling. You look fantastic) he whispered as he leaned against the mirror.

Y/N tucked her hair behind her ear. "Thank you, Lord Percival," she said, standing from the bed.

Striding over, she wrapped her arms around her neck and kissed him. It was quick and careful, so that Y/N didn't ruin her makeup. "How about we don't go to dinner," he suggested. "How about we stay here and I ravage you?"

She shook her head. "Please, Charles. We haven't been to dinner in so long," she said with a slight whine.

So, they went to dinner. With Charles driving, they looked every bit the rich Monégasque people everybody through they were. Some people took pictures of them as they drove past, on their way to the restaurant.

At the restaurant, they took their seats and ordered their drinks. "I'll be back in a moment," said Y/N when the waiter walked away. She stood from her seat, kissed Charles on the cheek (leaving a lovely red mark), and made her way to the bathroom.

Charles looked around the restaurant. Some people had their phone out, pointing them at him. Charles simply smiled as he waited for her to get back.

Y/N finished up in the bathroom and made her way outside. There was a small corridor, with the men's bathroom next to the women's, before leading back to the restaurant.

A man walked out of the bathroom beside her as Y/N walked out of the ladies room. He looked her up and down as Y/N fixed the skirt of her dress and leaned against the wall. The guy let out a whistle. "Je te ferai crier mon nom au lit ce soir, ma belle," (I'll have you screaming my name in bed tonight, gorgeous) he said.

Y/N sent a disgusted look his way. "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm here with my boyfriend," she spat and walked away. Walking back to her Lord Percival.

"Je m'en fiche, sexy. Je te ferai mendier pour moi dans ces toilettes si tu le veux," (I don't care about that, sexy. I'll have you begging for me in those stalls if you want it) he said, following her towards the restaurant.

Y/N ignored him as she walked back to her table. Just before she reached Charles, the guy reached forward, pinching her ass. Gasping, Y/N turned around, ready to throw a punch. But the man was gone. When he saw where she was heading, he backed off, walking to a table with what Y/N could only assume was his wife.

"What was that, Darling?" Asked Charles as Y/N sat down opposite him. Their drinks were already there and Charles had already had most of his.

Y/N took a sip of her drink. "Oh, nothing my love. Don't worry about it."

Charles narrowed his eyes. He believed her, but her answer wasn't filling him with confidence.

He was silent while they ate their food. Charles was quick to pay for the food and get Y/N back into the car. "I saw you with him, mon amour," he said as the drove away.

"What? Charles-"

"I'm going to make sure you never do anything like that again." His hand was on her thigh, gripping tight, travelling closer to where she needed him most.

"Charles," she whispered, hiking up the skirt of her dress. Charles' fingers danced across her bare thigh, sending a shiver up her spine.

Charles kept a hold of her hand as he walked her back into the apartment. He pushed the door shut behind them and locked it. There would be no interruptions tonight.

"Get in the bedroom and get that dress off," he said, walking to their kitchen.

Y/N ran off to the bedroom, unzipping and throwing off her dress as she went. She left it in a crumpled pile by the wardrobe and worked on taking off her shoes and underwear. Discarding them in the same manner, she laid back on the bed and stared at the door.

Anticipation was making it all the more exciting. She could hear Charles' shoes clicking against the floor as he approached, making her drip.

When he twisted the handle and pushed the door open, Y/N sat up and stared at him. Charles was still dressed, but his shirt was halfway unbuttoned, showing off his chest.

He was so pretty. So, so pretty.

"I don't like it when people try to take what's mine," he said, his voice low. He shrugged off his jacket and beckoned her closer.

On her hands and knees, Y/N crawled across the bed towards him. Charles pushed her hair behind her ear and tilted her chin up to kiss her. "Si jolie, mon amour. Tellement jolie." (So pretty, my love. So fucking pretty)

Still clothed, Charles pushed her back onto the bed. He ran his hands over her body, over all the places that made her shiver. Over her breasts and down to her core.

His touches were light as he touched her folds. "Charles," she cried, throwing her head back. With one hand he touched her and, with the other, he unbuckled her belt. "Nobody touches my girl," he said through a growl, his touches becoming rougher.

Flipping Y/N over, she pulled his cock from his trousers. Charles lined himself up and entered swiftly. He was still fully clothed, standing over Y/N on her hands and knees.

Charles' thrusts started slow. But they quickly got rougher. Charles had a grip on her hair, holding her up, exposing her throat. His hips were moving at a bruising pace, his thrusts hitting all the right places.

"Oh my," she gasped. "Charles!"

The hand gripping her throat moved around to her neck, pulling her back into her chest. If it wasn't for his grip, Y/N would have fallen forward, allowing her body to be pounded into the sheets. Charles bit and kissed at her shoulder, sucking dark bruises into the place where her shoulder met her neck.

Y/N was lost in a haze of sex and pleasure. She cried his name again ans again, repeating it like a prayer.

When Y/N came undone Charles kept going. He didn't let up on the pace, not until his thrusts became sloppy and his hips stilled against her, spilling his seed inside of her.

For a moment, Charles didn't pull out. He just held Y/N there, his cock buried inside of her. His breathing was erratic, his body sweaty.

"C'est ma gentille fille. Tu as fait du bien pour moi," (That's my good girl. You did so good for me) he whispered, kissing her gently.

Slowly, Y/N pulled away from him. She laid herself on the bed and reached out for Charles, trying to pull him closer. As he came closer, he took off his shirt and his pants discarding them. "I love you," she said, pulling him close for a kiss.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Charles replied, pulling her to her wobbly feet.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Ranger (Part 2)

Summary: The reader is trying to deal with the secret Dean's dropped on her but things still don't add up. And despite her Alpha trying to convince her they can never be something more, she's not ready to give up so easily...

Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader

Word Count: 6,400ish

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of murder/manipulation, smut

A/N: Please enjoy!

_______

He what? Hunting people? What kind of answer was that? You figured he was hiding some sort of criminal background, something to do with DNA. Yeah, maybe even the fact he could have killed someone crossed your mind during your research. 

But there was a damn big difference between killing a guy and hunting him.

You were so dumbfounded by his response that Dean took pity on you and moved away, lips pursed. “Y/N, I’m going to say this one more time because I know that’s a lot to take in at once. I will never harm you. I can smell the fear coming off of you but you don’t need to be afraid of me.”

He took another step back when you continued to stare, his eyes darting away. 

“You wanted the truth and now you have it,” he said as he headed for the hallway. 

“Bullshit.” He froze outside his bedroom, frowning when he glanced over his shoulder. “You haven’t told me anything, Winchester.”

You stormed over, poking him in his muscular chest, Dean’s eyebrows raising. “I told you what you need to know. I kill people. It’s that simple.”

“No, it’s really not.” You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down close, your nose burying itself in his neck. You inhaled sharply before he managed to pull away.

“The fuck are you doing?” he growled, backing away. You narrowed your eyes, Dean matching your expression. “You can’t smell-”

“I had to take a psychology class as part of my major. It was to understand why people lie, break laws when they know they shouldn’t, stuff like that. I was very good at scenting during interviews. I went a different route but I remember what scents under duress meant.” You backed him up against the door, Dean’s chest vibrating with the low threatening growl he was emitting. “Terror had a very specific profile if I recalled correctly. Very difficult to conceal-”

He grabbed your shoulders, pushing you back against the door, hand planted firmly over your mouth. You swallowed thickly, Dean breathing hard.

“Listen very closely because I won’t repeat myself. You are going to quit your job. You are going to call your family and tell them you met your true mate. Then, I’m going to make it look like you died.” Your eyes went wide, Dean’s jaw clenched so hard you thought it might break in half. “You will have your freedom but you will do what I say, when I say, without question. Do you understand?”

Oh, you understood alright. You responded in kind by grabbing his crotch and squeezing so hard he made a squeaking noise as he fell to his knees. He gasped and tried to breathe, hands over his surely bruised cock as you squatted down. You took his chin in your hand, Dean letting out a tiny shiver of pain.

“Do. Not. Bullshit. Me. Stop pretending to protect me and start telingl me the goddamn truth because I have a feeling something seriously fucked up is going on. So you go take a long hard look in the mirror and figure out exactly what you want to say. Or next time? I’m going to crush your dick so hard it never works again.”

You released him and stood up, walking back towards the living room. 

“You’re my true mate? Fucking act like it. Alpha.”

It was an hour later when you heard the soft opening of the bedroom door. You glanced away from the TV playing an old movie, Dean now wearing a plain black shirt and gray flannel pants. He smelled clean and watched him carefully approach the other end of the couch. He gestured to it and you nodded, Dean taking a seat. You turned off the movie and sat up, taking your blanket with you.

Dean sighed, criss crossing his legs and facing you. He rested his elbows against his knees, leaning forward, head bowed.

“I joined the bureau after college. FBI. I was a data analyst for a year while I worked on getting into the field office program. I’d wanted to be a cop originally but this was like being a detective for the whole country which I thought was pretty cool. The senior handler in my group did these…side jobs and I got pulled into it. This guy came after me at my apartment in Kansas City and I barely made it out alive. That’s when I found out I was targeted because my handler pissed someone off. They wanted to hurt his team, send a message, and I was the least experienced. They thought they’d kill me.”

Dean shifted in his seat, folding his hands together, still not meeting your gaze.

“When you unknowingly kill a member of the mob, you kind of become target number one for the mob.”

“So you’re in witness protection?” you asked, Dean immediately shaking his head. 

“My handler and the team took care of this mob family. They weren’t particularly large, but they did it. Killed close to fifty people to protect me.” He grabbed his wrist, squeezing it gently. “But it was all a lie. That story I just told you? It’s the same bullshit they told me. My handler it turned out was…”

He breathed deeply, rubbing his palm against his head.

“The whole damn team was crooked. They lied, made me feel like they protected me and that I owed them. They said if we went through proper channels the mob would find out and I’d be dead. They’d torture and kill my family. I was grateful to my team for about five whole minutes,” he breathed out with a dry laugh. “They set me up. It was one big sham. The mob ordered the hit on their own guy and hired my handler to do it. My handler, well he wanted me to be crooked too. And by me killing the guy? By not going through the bureau? He had evidence that I’d committed a murder, made it seem like I was some murderous vigilante. From that day forward, he told me he owned me and he fucking did.”

You pushed your blanket to the ground, inching closer to him. Dean’s back shook, his head buried in his hands.

“He made me help kill people so he could make a profit. He stalked my little brother for seven years, made sure to send me pictures to remind me to keep up my end of the deal.”

“What happened that changed all that?” you said softly. 

“The handler and two other agents on the team died during an operation a few years ago. It was a miracle. The other three agents were injured but…in the chaos, I saw my out andI slit their throats. I needed my family to be safe. FBI believes it was the culprit we were chasing that day. I’d been injured too so I was never suspected. My DNA was on the bodies though, in evidence. I had to change mine and fast. My friend is a doctor…”

“Your friend told you about Novi-Alpha.” He nodded. “So you have to stay on it so you don’t get caught for their murders.”

“If I go off of it and my DNA gets entered into any police database, they’ll know what I did. I can’t let that happen. Not yet.”

You crawled closer, taking his hands into yours, Dean finally looking you in the eye. His own were bloodshot, tired and sad. “But you’re not actually scared about the police finding you. Or the FBI.” He shook his head. “So why do you need to hide your DNA?”

“You assumed I take Novi-Alpha for what it does to DNA. I’m not worried about them connecting me to the murders four years later. If it were that simple, I’d have been off the stuff years ago.” He held his wrist up to your face. “Scent is…unique. Novi-Alpha blocks scent to other Alphas. All they smell is the same base component in any Alpha. I can’t be identified.”

“But…”

“Three years ago I got a letter detailing my exact scent profile, even the shit only my true mate is supposed to be able to scent. Somehow, he knows what I smell like. All it said was that I was next. Thank god he doesn’t know my name or my family would be dead by now. But that letter? It came from the town of Mount Dusk.”

“When you said you hunt people…” you trailed off, Dean nodding. “That’s why you were walking in the pouring rain this morning. You’re searching for this person.”

“There are some recluses around these parts. I’m narrowing it down but it’s difficult. The last thing I wanted, the last thing, was for my true mate to come here of all places. I’m pretty sure this person wants to kill me. I’m still missing pieces. At best, you’re in danger. At worst, this person gets ahold of you and…”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut when you moved his hand to your neck, grazing over your fresh mark. 

“I wish things were different,” he whispered. His head was low, hand only still on you because you held him there. “It’s not fair to you but you can’t have your true mate. In the morning, I’ll get ahold of my doctor friend. He lives a few hours away. He’s nice and it’ll be like having a roommate is all. He’ll make sure you have a good safe life away from all this-”

You leaned forward, capturing his cheeks in your hands as you planted a hard kiss on him. Dean jerked in his seat, wide eyed when you broke it off quickly.

“I don’t understand. You can’t feel our bond,” he said when you put your arms over his shoulders and wrapped your legs loosely around his waist. You sat in his lap, Dean’s skin flush, scent like smoky pines. “Why did you kiss me?”

“Sweetheart, you might be the Alpha but there’s no way I’m leaving you here alone to deal with some asshole that wants to hurt you.” 

“...Alright,” he grit out, clearly not liking that response. “But again, why kiss me? You can’t feel our bond.”

“I can’t feel a stupid bond. It doesn’t mean I can’t feel something for you. I’d like to like you. Deep down, ou’re not the dickhead Alpha you keep acting like. You're just scared. I understand. But I need to stay with you and help you solve this thing that way you can get off that damn medication and we can start our lives together.”

He shook his head, yours shaking right back. “Did you miss the part where I said I was a hitman for years? The Ranger? I had a fucking name in the business and everything I’d killed that many people.”

“You ever kill anyone innocent?” He was silent, frowning at you. “Exactly. And I still feel like you’re making it sounds worse than it was. Let me help you. You may have given up on yourself but I know you’re good.”

“Why would you think that? All I’ve done is yell at you.”

“You saved my life today, Alpha. Before you knew we were mates.” You hugged him tight, Dean burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Warm breath tickled your skin, Dean’s limbs finally squeezing around you. “We’re soulmates. We’re meant to be together and if this is what we’re meant to get through right now then we will. But promise me something.”

“What?” he whispered.

“Don’t give up on us being able to feel our bond the way we’re supposed to. Someday you can be off that medicine and you won’t have to hide anymore. Promise me that.”

“I promise, Omega,” he murmured over your mark. You sat in a content silence for only a moment, his stomach rumbling loudly. He pulled back and set a hand over his stomach, rubbing it gently. “Sorry. I didn’t eat much today.”

“To be honest, I’m pretty hungry myself. My appetite’s come back since earlier,” you said, moving to your feet. “I bet we can find something.”

“I eat a lot of frozen meals,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck as you headed over to the kitchen. “Omega.”

You hummed as you stopped in front of the refrigerator, Dean putting a hand on your arm gently.

“Please let me get it,” he said quietly. You sighed but held up your hands. Your eyes widened when he lifted you up and sat you on top of the counter easily, his fingers brushing lose hair behind your ear. He smirked. “So you are capable of listening to me.”

“I am fine but it stresses you out, me doing anything more than sitting on my ass right now, doesn’t it.”

“Despite the evidence to the contrary, I’m not an asshole that wants to control you,” he said, taking out a package of cheese and some sliced tomato on a plate. He set them beside you along with a stick of butter. His green eyes found yours, Dean settling between your legs, hands on either side of your thighs. “Tomorrow you can be the strong, capable person I know you are. Tonight, let me take care of my omega. It’s not much but I can feel some Alpha instincts for my mate and they are twitchy as hell right now.”

“And me listening to you calms them down?” He nodded, his nostrils flaring briefly. “And you can scent me?”

“Barely but yes. It’s how I know you’re not at a hundred percent right now. It’s different than normal scenting. It’s hard to explain.”

“It makes sense. Make your dinner, Dean.” He hummed, trailing his finger down your thigh before he broke away and moved to the stove. He didn’t speak while he worked on assembling his sandwich but his shoulders did ease slightly. 

A man on the run, hunting down someone who wanted to hurt him. The last thing he wanted was his true mate in the thick of it. A true mate he felt for more than he was letting on but still tried to keep you at arms length to protect you.

“Dean,” you said quietly from the countertop as he dried the pan. He hummed, setting it back on the stove top before leaning back against the island across from you. “You said your Alpha senses towards me, you can feel them?”

He paused a beat before nodding. 

“I know I’m the one that was in the hospital today but are you okay? That’s…a lot to try and deal with and be the strong guy. I get it. Your Alpha brain is going a million miles an hour cause you have a recovering Omega on your hands and you’re hardwired to get crazy protective.”

You slid off the counter down to the floor, taking two steps to reach him. Your hands settled on his firm waist, Dean tensing under the touch. 

“I don’t think you’ve been okay in a long time and today was a bad day. I just…want my Alpha to know he can lean on me too.” Large hands rested over yours, sliding them down until he was holding them, resting them against his thighs. You swallowed, biting your bottom lip. “You strike me as the kind of guy that’ll blame himself for thinking he nearly killed me when that’s the furthest thing from the truth.”

“Y/N-”

“You saved me today. My Alpha did. You hurt me by blaming yourself so just don’t, alright? Don’t do that to me.” He parted his soft pink lips, waiting for words to come. But he only sighed, closing his pretty green eyes. “Today’s supposed to be a happy day for us. So let’s be happy, alright?”

“Y/N, it doesn’t work like-”

“You promised you would try. Is my Alpha a liar?” He opened his eyes to stare at you, brow furrowed slightly. “I didn’t think so.”

“Has anyone ever told you how frustratingly annoying you are?” he sighed. You simply smiled, Dean throwing his head back. “Fine.”

He bent down and scooped you up in his arms, your own wrapping around his neck in an effort to cling to something. “What are you doing?”

“You’re quite a needy little Omega, aren’t you,” he said, a flicker of mischievousness in his eyes as he walked down the hallway and into the master bedroom.

“Are you teasing me, Alpha?” you shot back, Dean shrugging, a sliver of a smirk on his face. “So he does have a fun side.”

“Oh, I’m quite fun,” he said, gently resting you on top of the bed. He tucked the covers down and then over your body, hesitating before bending down to press a kiss to your lips. “I’ll be in the room across the hall if you need me.”

“What?” you said, sitting up quickly. His heavy hands caught your shoulders before you could get further. A beat passed and he sat on the edge of the mattress, one of his hands cupping your cheek. “You promised you’d try. You-”

“I can’t share a bed with you. I don’t think I can even kiss you again.” Anger pooled in your core but Dean was already puling away. “I’m sorry.”

“What the fuck was all that out there then?” you spat back at him. Dean glanced to his lap when you pushed his hands away from you. “I know you feel something here. You want me so don’t pretend you don’t.”

“Omega.” He looked away, shaking his head. “You’re asking me to sleep in a bed next to my true mate. My sweet little mate that I can’t go more than a few minutes without wanting to knot. If I keep kissing you…and if I sleep in here…all I’m doing is putting you in danger of me not staying in control.”

He frowned when he met your face, taking in your confused eyes. 

“You need to start taking that medicine the doctor gave you to help suppress your scent. Tonight. Because all I want to do is claim you properly and if I do, I’ll have fucking killed you.”

“Then stop taking Novi-Alpha and claim me,” you said, stabbing him in the chest. His eyes darkened and you poked him again. “You want to do this right now? Fine. I was going to save this for the morning but I think you’re missing something really fucking important. This person that’s after you? They had your complete and total scent profile? With the true mate stuff? Well guess what? They were bluffing you. It’s physically impossible for anyone except your true mate to know that. Any guesses why they’d do that? Hm? Maybe so they’d get you to move here and look for this guy. Maybe so they could get you alone and isolated and scared while they did what they actually wanted.”

“Which is what?” he asked quietly. You sighed, shaking your head.

“Get you out of the way so you wouldn’t question why the operation with your team lead went bad in the first place. Why you wouldn’t question that the FBI clearly has DNA evidence you killed those other team members but never did anything about it. Did it cross your mind they set it up to kill all of you and they realized you weren’t a part of it so they let you go? I mean how long did you get this threatening note after the murders?”

“...Next day.”

“Which means they have someone working for the FBI undercover out here who knows exactly who you are. They sent you on a wild goose chase to a small town so you’d be out of their hair.”

“Why would they let me go? I’m such a loose end-”

“Jesus christ you idiot,” you said, grabbing his shoulders, yanking him closer. “You are not the bad guy. They are keeping an eye on you out here to make sure you aren’t but that is all it is. There is no one coming after you. If there was, don’t you think they would have gone after your family already? It’s been three years since you killed those your team.”

His hand shot to your throat in an instant, squeezing just hard enough to make you gasp.

“I never told you how long it was.” He let go just in time to grab your arm, pushing you back against the wall, caging your body in. He towered over you, eyes narrowed. “Who the fuck are you and don’t give me that corporate forensic bullshit.”

“Fuck,” you muttered, holding up your hands. “I’m…”

“You’re what?” he growled, grabbing both your wrists in one of his large palms. “A spy? An agent? Someone meant to watch me? Kill me?”

“...I’m the person you were supposed to kill that day. I was the mark. I was…”

“Songbird.” You nodded, Dean’s grip loosening on you. “Songbird wasn’t even a college age girl. Not even eighteen. You’re older. I don’t-”

“They used my highschool picture and altered it with AI. The mark you got from your team leader to kill was a girl that never existed. My dad hired the hit if you want to call it that to see if they could catch them in the act. He’s the senior field officer that was investigating your team. It was always…everyone was supposed to die except for you. You were let go because you were innocent and he knew that. They knew you were manipulated and forced. No one blamed you for killing the others to get out. If you hadn’t done it, they would have. But they couldn’t let you be an agent anymore. It looked bad that they left you on your own to protect your family so it was either kill you or kick you out. My dad advocated that you were a good man and they agreed to keep you under supervision for five years. If you didn’t make any moves in that time that showed you were a killer for hire, you were free to live your life normally. The only person that’s watching you in this town is a retired field officer named Harrison Y/L/N. He goes by Harry.”

“You came here on vacation to visit your fucking dad,” he said, releasing you, taking two large steps back. “You knew this whole time-”

“I found all of this out at the damn hospital today when they called my parents so don’t you blame me,” you said, voice wavering as you felt his anger stir in the air. “My dad dropped the fucking bomb on me and told me not to tell you you a word. And you were so mean and angry and I was scared cause I almost died. He told me you killed people and I was scared you were lying about why you were on Novi-Alpha. I thought maybe he was wrong and you still killed people…because you liked it…I didn’t want you to hurt me if I brought it up. I thought…”

You wrinkled your nose when wetness built up in your eyes, swallowing thickly to try and will it away. Dean approached you, your gaze shooting to the floor.

“Why did you stay if you thought I was a monster?”

“You’re not a monster,” you whispered. You forced your head up, blinking back tears when he tilted his head at you. “The only people you ever killed were those three teammates and a mobster and it was basically self-defense. My dad said those are the only people you ever killed so why would you lie? Why would you make it seem like you did it all the time?”

“To scare you into leaving. It didn’t work obviously. And I might not have pulled a trigger but I did research, I helped those other kills.” You smiled, sniffling once as a tear rolled down your cheek. 

“You’re not that scary, Alpha. I stayed, didn’t I?” He wiped his thumb under your eye, brushing away the wetness that threatened to spill over once more. “I’ll go away if you want me to. But you don’t have to stay on that medicine anymore. No one will hurt you or your family.”

“I am not happy to be used like some pawn in a game. Your father should have come directly to me and I would have told him everything he wanted to know. I’ve been hiding for three years because of this. I haven’t seen my family in three years.” You nodded, looking away. You stepped past him, going to a chair and picking up your hospital clothes into your arms. “And where do you think you’re going?”

You turned around slowly, Dean ripping the clothes out of your hands, throwing them back in the chair.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to go wash your face and go to bed because goddamn you have no idea how stressed the fuck out you smell right now. Tomorrow, we are going to the hospital for your follow up check up and I am getting a blood test to make sure there is no more Novi-Alpha in my system. Then we are coming home and I will be claiming you and you’re gonna stop fucking crying because it feels like my soul is tearing in half whenever you do. And when we’re good and ready, we’re going to visit Harry and he will get the FBI off my fucking back so I can get on with my damn life with my Omega. Is that clear?”

“Okay,” you whispered, letting him take your hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s been a long day and…can we agree to not keep secrets anymore?”

“Yeah,” you said, Dean pulling you into a crushing hug. You relaxed into it, Dean kissing the top of your head. “I thought kissing wasn’t allowed.”

“Fuck it. I’m claiming you tomorrow. A few kisses won’t hurt.”

“Good cause I can use them.” You rested your head against his shoulder, breathing deeply. You felt another across the crown of your head, a tiny smile crossing your lips. “If it makes you feel any better, I told my dad to fuck off for asking me to lie to you.”

“It does a little. My omega is the protective type I’m learning.”

“Yes she is,” you said, a sudden wave of exhaustion hitting you. Your knees buckled, Dean catching you in his arms and guiding you to the bed. “Do not say I told you so.”

“I said nothing.” He smiled as you laid back down, closing your eyes. “Get some sleep. We’ll get you cleaned up in the morning, alright?”

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” you asked, catching a big whiff of his scent as a blanket was laid over top of your body.

“Not tonight. Soon,” he said, turning off the light. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Dean.”

You woke up to the smell of cinnamon rolls and fresh pine floating through the air. Had Dean baked? Throwing the covers back, a wave of scent slammed into you. 

“Morning,” said Dean with a coy smile. He sipped from a coffee mug, leaning against the doorframe. You blinked as you took him in, hands fisting in the sheets when the urge to pounce on him crackled through you like lightning. He chuckled, cocking his head. “Yeah, I know the feeling. You’re like…”

You stood up, crossing the room quickly, Dean catching you in one arm. 

“Calm Omega,” he shushed you when you slammed your lips to his. “After we both pass our checkups.”

Heat pooled between your legs and your eyes flashed wide when you felt something very wet. You both looked down, your face on fire when you realized you’d just made slick…in his fucking boxer briefs.

“I-I’m…” 

“To be fair,” he said, taking a long sip of his coffee before offering the mug to you, “You did proposition me yesterday so this is really nothing.”

You smacked his arm gently, Dean laughing quietly. “I was in serious pain! A-and I think I’m going to go into heat again soon.” You took a drink from the mug, happy to find it wasn’t straight black coffee. 

“Why don’t you get dressed then and we’ll head over to the hospital so we can…” he trailed off, roaming his eyes down your body, shaking his head. He grabbed your arm and started heading for the front door. 

“Dean, I’m not even dressed,” you said. He paused, leaving you in the kitchen before he hurried into the guest room. He exited not five seconds later with a pair of your joggers in hand. “You really can’t wait to knot me, huh?”

“No, I really can’t,” he said, letting you lean on him as you tugged the pants up. He went to the front door, groaning when you started to look around. “Y/N. I’m gonna bust a knot over here.”

“I know, I know. I just wanted one of those cinnamon rolls before we go.” He raised his eyebrows at you. 

“I have no…we can swing by the bakery tomorrow. They normally have really good-” He stopped when you approached him, inhaling sharply with a smile.

“Oh my god, you spell like cinnamon rolls! Like you have all those classic rugged Alpha scents that are to die for but cinnamon rolls? I didn’t know Alpha’s could smell like that.” Dean’s lip ticked up, dipping his head as he put a baseball cap on his head. 

“Winchesters have been known to…smell like baked goods to their mates,” he mumbled, handing you your rainjacket. “Apparently it’s true.”

“Can you scent anything new on me?” you asked, sliding into the jacket, holding onto Dean as you put on your rain booties. 

“You’re not in pain anymore which I like…and you smell like fresh peaches which I didn’t notice before. It’s…nice,” he said as you stood. He flipped your hood up for you, stroking his thumb over your heated cheek. “It, uh, rains a lot here. We’ll have to get you some better gear.”

“We will,” you said, Dean’s fingers tucking your hair under your jacket so you wouldn’t get wet. “Let’s get out of here, Alpha.”

“After you.”

Approximately two hours and thirty seven minutes later, not that you’d been counting, you were shoving a more than wet Dean back against the front door. The urge to mate was strong and now that you both had the all clear, you couldn’t wait another second to have his knot and claim again.

It wasn’t your fault your pulled him out of the car so fast he didn’t have time to get his hood up.

“Alpha,” you purred, reaching for his belt, ripping it out of the loops and tossing it aside. 

“Down girl,” he said in a low, husky voice but his hands were moving as fast as yours. Coats and boots landed in a wet heap on the floor. Your hoodie, which was his hoodie but was your hoodie from now on you’d already decided, was tossed aside as he shrugged out of his flannel.

You growled when he walked towards the fireplace but he shushed you, taking your hand and holding up a finger. You let him have roughly eight seconds to start a fire before you were behind him, reaching for the hem of his heather gray tee shirt. He spun, planting his large hands on your hips, squeezing them so tight you shivered in the best way.

“Someone’s eager,” he murmured, nipping at your jaw. Hot breath fanned over your mark, Dean brushing his lips over the still healing gland, barring his teeth against the flesh. It was too hot and you slid his shirt up his body, Dean responding with his approval by growling against your skin. “Fuck, we doing this fast?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?” you said, Dean breaking away to rip his shirt off one handed. You barely had a second to take in his muscular body before he tugged your shirt clean off of you, leaving you in only his underwear you still wore. 

“Holy shit, you’re gorgeous.” The way he looked ready to devour you made your stomach do flips, voice caught in your throat when he slowly dragged his zipper downwards. Thumbs hooked into the waistband of his jeans and he shoved them along with his underwear over a round, tight ass and long, lean legs. 

Your eyes shot to his hard cock as he straightened up, a devilish smirk on his face. He made a show out of stretching his arms overhead, showing off the raw strength of his body, just how fucking broad and powerful he was.

“My omega like what she sees?” he teased when your gaze finally found it’s way back to his handsome face. You licked your lips, Dean chuckling. “S’all yours, sweetheart. Come and take it.”

“Cocky bastard,” you said, making a show out of stepping out of the underwear and tossing it somewhere on the other side of the room. His eyes trailed up and down your body, grin reaching his eyes when you stalked over slowly in front of him. He leaned in close, so many pheromones filling the air you were having a hard time concentrating on not coming on the spot.

“Omega,” he murmured, kissing under your jaw. “Hold on tight.”

You were in the air, spun around, back hitting the wall by the fireplace as your legs shot around his trim waist. A greedy moan filled the air when the tip of his cock hit your clit, rubbing it once, twice and you were literally shaking.

“Stop or you’ll make me come,” you whispered. “I-Inside.”

“I’ll torture you another day. Promise.” He winked and shifted his hips back, lining up with you. “Tell me to stop if it hurts.”

“What if I want it to hurt?” you said through eyelashes and you swore you felt his heart skip a beat. “Fuck me so hard I feel you for days. Fuck this heat right out of me.”

It was like a switch in his head flipped, the primal Alpha side of him determined to make that happen. He slammed his hips forward, a sharp shock to the system as you stretched around him, just shy of taking his knot. You were absolutely going to be sore but it wasn’t painful thankfully.

The fact you were wetter than the fucking ocean probably had something to do with it too.

Dean rutted into you again, your fingers digging into his back so hard he’d be covered in bruises tomorrow. “Fuck, sweetheart. Fuck yeah, mark me up.”

You threw your head back when he planted a hand by your head and fucking rammed his cock so hard you screamed. Dean settled into a punishing pace, driving his cock harder and harder, trying to wedge his knot inside your fluttering walls. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you breathed out when you were both covered in sweat, pooling down your chests, Dean’s grunt and groans loud in your ear. 

And then…on the edge of too much pleasure, you felt his swelling knot slip inside, knocking the air out of your lungs. You could feel it expand inside you so rapidly, pushing you higher and higher, you were holding onto Dean for dear life. 

“I’m…” he panted as you nodded. Soft pink lips locked around your bonding gland, Dean’s thrusts becoming erratic and then you felt him bite.

It was a damn good thing Dean didn’t have neighbors with the shout you let out. The tightly wound pressure in your core exploded as warmth flooded your insides. You were floating, flying, head going blank and a million miles an hour.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but cling to Dean as an overwhelming feeling of calm washed over you. It was like you’d never know what it was to be alone ever again.

When you opened your eyes, Dean was laying on his back on the floor, staring up at you with the softest smile in the world. 

“Hi,” you breathed out, Dean tucking your hair behind your ear as you straddled him.

“So that’s what it feels like when you feel it too,” he said, planting his palm on your chest, trying to catch his breath. “Wow. I feel-”

“Lighter,” you said, lowering yourself down, planting your arms on either side of his head. Dean leaned up and kissed you, hand winding it’s way to the back of your neck, keeping you close. It was less urgent, gentle in how he moved his lips. He grinned when you ran a hand through his sweaty, damp hair. 

“I think you’re stuck with me now, sweetheart,” he teased, dragging his knuckles over your cheekbone. 

“Such a shame. I thought you’d be taller.” He laughed so hard you felt it in your bones, Dean grinning when you splayed out on top of him and rested your chin on his chest. “So you’re not all broody every moment of the day after all.”

“Careful, Omega. Your grump might even let on that he likes to cuddle.”

“Oh, he does? Well we’ll be sure to explore that side of you,” you said. You grinned as he stroked your face, a warm cozy feeling settling deep down inside. “You know, I-” 

Dean’s gaze flickered away to something behind you, his eyes flashing wide before two things happened very, very quickly.

The sound of multiple windows breaking and the door being kicked in crashed through the air, letting the sound of the pouring rain become even more pronounced. You may have paid more attention to the deafening sounds if it weren’t for what Dean did.

He was knotted to you, buried to the hilt inside of you with at least twenty minutes remaining before he would deflate and the two of you could separate. It was a way of being close, being intimate, feeling one another. Knots could not be removed without severely injuring the receiving partner. 

And yet, in what felt like less than a second, Dean literally ripped you off of his body and dropped you onto the floor in one swift motion. It felt like a sucker punch as you waited for the pain but all you felt was Dean standing, grabbing you with one hand to push you behind him. 

There were people in the house, dressed head to toe in black and with large guns. And you and Dean were trapped buck naked backed up against the fireplace with nowhere to go.

________

A/N: Read the final part here!

[disappearintothegrey]

kitten // noah sebastian

Summary - A little trip to a local cat cafe ends with more than you bargained for. But, you'd do anything for Noah.

warnings - none. tooth-rotting fluff.

first one-shot in my random Noah Sebastian one-shot series. i am working on two requests, and my requests are currently open. you can also find this cross-posted on ao3 within the series. thanks for reading ♥

~~~~~

It all started as a light-hearted plan. Seriously. 

The guys had just gotten back from a small tour run, taking one day to rest at their shared home. Folio and Jolly were busy playing some game on Folio’s XBOX, which Noah and I watched on boredly. Jolly had just killed Folio in-game, a competitive war about to erupt before Nicholas busted into the living room, pure glee on his tan face. 

“Guys, guys!” Nicholas was vibrating with excitement, and I moved my eyes to him questioningly. I could hear Noah snicker under his breath beside me, watching on in amusement.

“What’s up?” Noah inquires, “You literally look like you’re going to explode at any moment,” He jokes. 

“Guess what just opened down the street?!” Nicholas exclaims, his phone screen thrust in their faces, “We have to go!” 

Despite Nicholas’ shaky hands, I was able to make out the words “CAT CAFE GRAND OPENING” on his screen, and my eyes lit up, “You guys have a cat cafe!” I cheered, and Nicholas dropped beside me on the couch to let me go through the cafe’s website, and I squealed, “They have kitties!” 

“It is called a cat cafe, babe,” Noah teases, dodging the slap that came towards his shoulder.

“We have to go,” Nicholas begs, and I can see the desperation on his face.

“It sounds fun, we should go tomorrow,” I chime in, smirking at the disdain on the other three's faces. But it was nothing compared to the giddy smile that was all over Nicholas’ features, “Pleaseeeeeee?” I whine, hitting Noah with pleading eyes. 

Noah’s eyes narrow, almost glaring at me, “Don’t use that face against me,” He warns, but I don’t let up, “Sage,” He groans, pleading with his eyes.

“Fine, stop looking at me like that,” Noah concedes, falling back against the couch in defeat. I squeal, and Nicholas cheers as he schedules us a time-frame for tomorrow. 

Folio and Jolly exchange amused glances, returning to their game once Nicholas disappears back to his room. Noah is glaring at me, and I know I’m in for it later. I smile, leaning in to give him a quick kiss, muttering a thanks against his lips before I get to my feet and head to our bathroom. I can feel his fond eyes on my back, hearing him return to bickering with Folio and Jolly on the game. 

—

“Oh my god look at them!” I coo, spotting all the little kitties playing with each other and other patrons as we walk into the cafe, Nicholas visibly freaking out beside me, “I have to play with them all,” 

The guys are all talking amongst themselves as Nicholas checks us in, all of us being given a bag of treats and stickers that read our appointment end time. With all the house rules said to us, the front-desk employee lets us in and Nicholas immediately heads for this pair of black kittens napping on a small tree. 

I can feel Noah’s hand on my lower back, and he gives me a gentle push, making me look up at him to find him already looking down at me with a grin, “Go on, go play. I’ll get us coffees,” He offers, and I squeal, kissing him quickly before departing from the other guys. 

Nicholas is busying himself petting the awakening kittens, one of them crawling into his lap and curling up in a little ball. Folio found himself an adult ginger kitty–well actually, the orange boy found him first–, sitting criss-cross on the tile floor and letting the cat climb his legs and nuzzle his nose into his chin. Jolly and Noah were ordering the group lattes, talking amongst themselves as they wait for the beverages to be made. 

I look around the cafe, seeing cats and kittens of all sizes and colors playing and sleeping. Other patrons are happily using the toys to lure the cats in, but my eyes were drawn to a small tabby kitten, nestled inside a pumpkin house, sleeping soundly in the corner of the room. I smile to myself, walking up slowly to the house and sitting down in front of it, peering inside to see two olive eyes sleepily looking back at me.

“Hi there, baby,” I whisper, “You are so beautiful,” I say soothingly, the kittens fur long and luscious, black, brown, and grey in tone. The hair peaks on her ears are long and pointed, and her large paws tell me she’s a Maine Coon. 

With a stretch, the kitten stumbles out of the house, meowing up at me as she sits down in front of me, cleaning the sleep out of her eyes with her paws. I snap a few pictures on my phone, extending my hand to let her sniff my skin curiously. Her wet nose touches my knuckles, before her head pushes into my palm, demanding head scratches. I oblige, scratching her temple and behind her ears before petting down her spine, the soft fur under my fingers feeling like a cloud. 

“Aren’t you just the sweetest?” I ask, and the kitten follows it up by crawling up my crossed legs, settling in the crook of my thighs. I audibly awe, immediately letting her curl into a ball and stroke her fur. 

“Looks like you found a friend,” I heard above me, and I glance up to see Noah peering at us fondly, his eyes sparkling with affection, “Got you a pumpkin spice,” He announces, setting down the iced latte on the little table beside us, dropping down to sit criss-cross beside me. 

“Thanks,” I kiss his cheek, smirking at the pink that comes over his cheeks, “Look at her,” 

Noah glances down at the sleeping kitten, and I notice immediately how his eyes soften and he’s reaching out to pet her head. She lets out a content meow, and he literally coos, making my heart melt. That warm, sweet boy I fell for is coming out, no longer hidden by his “hard” outer shell. I feel the kitten stirring, Noah’s fingers gently caressing her fur, and her purring is so loud I can hear it. 

“She likes you,” I whisper, and he just smiles at me, going to take his hand back. 

“She’s just tired,” He replies, sipping from his latte. 

I shook my head, and the kitten took notice that she was no longer being pet, her eyes peeking open and a disgruntled meow escaping her tiny throat. I chuckle, scratching underneath her chin, her eyes slipping closed at the sensation as she purrs against my fingertips. Noah’s hand sneaks over to pat at her head, and he grabs at the small collar wrapped around her neck, looking at the ID tag curiously. 

“Hello there, Clementine,” He says softly, and her ears perk up at the sound of her name, tiny eyes glancing at Noah from my lap, “What a pretty name for a pretty girl,” He coos, and she meows in response, getting to her feet and climbing over to his arms. 

I see him visibly melt the moment she makes herself comfortable in his arms, nuzzling up to his chest. Noah’s brown eyes are filled with affection, tattooed fingers gently stroking her fur. With her little head perched on his forearm, she drifts off into a nap while he gives her pets. He’s too enthralled with her to notice I got up, snapping sneaky photos of them before going to sit with Nicholas, who was still playing with the pair of black kittens. 

He gives me a smile, his eyes searching for Noah, but his grin grows even wider when he sees his best friend huddled up with Clementine in the corner of the room, “Looks like he found someone special,” Nicholas comments, “This is Oreo and Twix,” He introduces the kittens, who meow at their name. 

I give the kittens a scratch, my eyes never wavering from Noah, “He’s gonna fall in love with her,” I comment, a little sad, “Too bad we can’t take one home,” 

Nicholas gives me a mischievous glance, “Who says we can’t?” 

I met his gaze, confused, “We can?” 

“Like any of us are gonna say no to a cat. Plus, Harper would love the company,” He replies. 

I nod, glancing back to Noah, who’s now leaned against the wall with Clementine curled into his neck, his eyes closed as he cuddles with her. I can’t wipe the dopey grin off my face, and it’s then when I decide to start plotting. 

—

“Time to go, baby,” I say quietly, approaching Noah as he’s looking sadly at Clementine. 

Noah sighs, kissing the kitten’s head softly, placing her back in her pumpkin house, but she cries out in protest, reaching out for him. He looks heartbroken, the look of disdain on his face undeniable, “I’m sorry sweet one, we have to go. I’ll come see you again,” He promises, “If you’re here next time,” And I would be lying if I said my heart didn’t break at the sound of his voice. 

Clementine continues crying as we walk out, her little face appearing in the windows of the cafe, Noah forcing himself to look away from her as he grabs my hand and presses forward. My heart couldn’t take it anymore, so I suddenly stopped and pretended to gasp. 

“I think I left my phone in there, I’ll be back!” I announce, turning to walk away, “Go ahead and get in the car,” 

Noah just nods, following the guys to their car as I run inside the shop, greeting the same front-desk employee, “Please tell me I can adopt Clementine,” I ask hurriedly, glancing behind me, “My boyfriend fell in love with her and I really wanna surprise him with her,” 

The employee smiles at me, bending down behind her desk to hand me a clipboard, “Fill out this paperwork, and then I need a valid driver's license to file,” She starts, “And then she’ll be all yours to pick up tomorrow morning,” 

After paperwork and $65 later for her adoption fee, Clementine was officially ours. I thanked the employees and raced outside, hopping in the car, “Sorry, they had to look for it,” 

Nicholas looks at me in question, but stays quiet. Noah’s looking out the window, looking for Clementine in the cafe’s windows as Jolly flips the car into park. I slide my fingers into his, giving his hand a squeeze as he lets out a sad sigh. He leans his head on my shoulder, playing with the sleeve of my shirt as he sulks. 

Little does he know, tomorrow morning, his whole day would brighten up. 

—

The next morning, I woke up extra early, making sure Noah stayed asleep as I slipped out of bed, getting dressed and heading out the door. My first stop was Petco, buying Clementine a litterbox, food and water bowl, toys, a bed, and scratching post. I would let Noah pick out her cat tree, I decided, grabbing her food and litter as well. 

After Petco, I headed straight for the cafe, parking right up front and carrying in the carrier I just purchased, the same employee giving me a warm smile, “She’s all ready for you, follow me,” 

I follow her into the cafe, but into a different room, where little Clementine is waiting for me on a cat tree. She meows loudly at me, clearly remembering my scent as I stroke her head, the employee getting the carrier situated for her while I pet her, “You’re coming home to see your new daddy,” I tell her, getting a meow back. 

Clementine’s placed in the carrier, wrapped up on a blanket with treats and a toy, the employee giving me one last smile, “She’s all yours! Congratulations!” 

“Let’s go home baby girl,” I tell her through the carrier, leading us out the door and securing her in my car with the seatbelt. 

The drive home was short, Clementine meowing at the bumpiness of the car ride while I tried to soothe her with my voice. I parked the car as fast as I could, carrying her in and making Folio carry in her supplies as I snuck inside. Nicholas is sitting on the couch, his eyes lighting up, “No way,” 

“Ssh, I don’t want her to start yelling,” I whisper, letting Nicholas see her through the carrier’s gated door, “Gonna sneak upstairs and put her on my pillow,” 

Nicholas grins at me, giving me a supportive wave as he goes to help Folio, and I carefully descend upstairs, opening our bedroom door to find Noah still fast asleep, facing my side of the bed with the blankets pulled to his waist. Quietly, I bend down to open her carrier, scooping her out and placing her on the pillows in front of him, letting her sniff the air. She puts her wet nose against Noah’s cheek, and he flinches, his eyes fluttering open to spot the tabby kitten staring at him curiously. 

“Clementine?!” He yelps, staring at her as if she wasn’t real, before he notices me standing behind them, recording the whole thing, “No way,” He replies, sitting up and grabbing Clementine, “No way!” 

“She’s all yours, Noah,” I tell him, sitting down beside them as he strokes her fur and coos in her ear, “I just couldn’t leave her there after watching you fall in love with her. You needed each other,” I finish, and Noah’s face is lit up with gratitude and love. 

He leans in to give me a kiss, holding my cheek with his free hand, “I don’t deserve you, thank you for her,” He says, giving me another kiss before pulling away, “Ready to go explore your new home?” He asks Clementine, who just meows in response as he hops out of bed and trots out of the room. 

No, Noah, it’s me who doesn’t deserve you. But Clementine? She deserves you. 

[starlight-library]

And The Winner Is... | T. Wolff (part II)

pairing: Toto Wolff x reader

summary: tickets are secured for VIP & pit. date night is set! the next mission: picking out the perfect concert outfit. the issue? your boyfriend doesn't see the necessitate of it.

warning: age gap, suggestive if you kinda squint?

fc: none!

a/n: welcome to the ATIS... mini series folks! Promise the answer of the cuffs will come!

wc: 1.8k

part 1 | current

“I still do not see the reason that I need an outfit for this concert.”

“I mean you don’t need an outfit.” You correct Toto, “but it would be fun if you got one.”

“Fun for you?” Toto half jokes as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel while waiting at the stoplight. 

You feel a soft blush creep onto your face because he’s right. It really is going to be fun for you but you won’t admit that to him. No need to inflate his ego more than needed since your entire job is supposed to humble your boyfriend. Letting out a huff of air, you roll your eyes. “No,” you lie, “it’s supposed to be fun for both of us! We can match!”

“You want me in a skirt?” Toto raises a brow as he continues, which gets a laugh out of you, “I do not think anybody wants to see that.”

“Who wouldn’t want to see those long legs in all their glory? Please, I think a lot of people would want to see that.” You joke while gently patting Toto’s knee with a smile, “I know I would.”

Toto scoffs gently, “of course you would.” He glances at you with a smirk, “all you have to do is ask, liebling.”

You look at Toto when he parks before clasping your hands together, batting your eyelashes over dramatically. “Really?” You ask, “you’d wear a skirt for me if I asked really nicely?”

You grin widely hearing the laugh that you pull from the older male before you undo your seat belt and get out of the car. Once Toto made sure the car was locked (you prayed it was after the third time he locked it), the two of you head into the mall, leaning into Toto’s side as he snakes an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him. 

From what you’ve gathered, while also avoiding as many spoilers as possible, it’s giving sleepover vibes but she had a few sparkly outfits that gave ‘night out’ which was also something to work with if the sleepover vibes failed. Which was good because the sleepover vibes did fail.

You really did try but the first few stores you and Toto went into had nothing you were looking for. You had let Toto lead you into the more high end stores which you typically avoided since that wasn’t your style and Toto seemed determined to find you something but you both ended up empty handed. It was your turn to take charge and you went to the stores you were a frequent shopper at.

Still, you didn’t find anything in the sleepover vibe. The handful you did, it was always the wrong size. Either a size too big or too small. If it was the right size then it was the wrong color. You were aiming for something that was blue, pink, or black but it was white, red, green, or purple. The very rare few that fit the vibe, color, and size just didn’t scream…you. Even with Toto showering you in compliments (and buying the baby doll dresses for you anyway) you were set on finding the perfect outfit so you switched to the ‘night out’ vibes. 

You were browsing the clearance section in one of the stores, going through tops before finding the perfect one. It was a baby blue knitted top that had rhinestones littered all over it. It had two spaghetti straps that crossed in the front and when you flipped it over went down the back and kept criss-crossing in the back through loops so it could be tied. You viewed it as a very modern low kind of corset. Looking at the rack underneath, you find a matching pencil skirt and feeling the material, it's surprisingly very soft and stretchy. You grab your size and disappear to the dressing room to try it on. The skirt fits like a glove but the top is surprisingly huge. 

You change out of the outfit and swiftly exchange the top for smaller sizes. You end up with one that’s two sizes too small typically but it fits perfectly. Looking yourself over in the mirror you’ve decided that this would be a great outfit to go out as well as for the concert. You turn around to see the back before trying to fix the bow you made it tie it off

“Schatz?” Toto calls out.

“Over here! In number four!” You call out.

Hearing the familiar heavy footsteps, you turn back around to do a final once over, “I’ve been looking all over for you. Did you find something?”

“I did!” You open the door to show Toto your outfit. “Tada!”

“Wow,” Toto says breathlessly before gently taking your hand to spin you which you happily oblige to do, “it’s perfect, Liebste.”

“Thank you,” you smile before looking down at the skirt, “though I don’t know the skirt is too short.”

“I don’t think so.”

You turn back around to face the mirror again while playing with the skirt. There’s only one way to see if it’s short and you quickly bend down to touch your toes as you feel the skirt rise up. You squeak when you feel hands on your hips swiftly and Toto pressing himself against your back as you stand up.

“Schatz,” Toto hisses, leaning down, “what are you doing?”

“I was testing to see if the skirt was too short!”

You study Toto through the mirror as he puts his lips together before he moves his lips to ghost over the shell of your ear. You shiver softly, feeling his breath against your ear. “Well after that lovely show, I would argue that it is a bit on the shorter side.”

“Well.” You turn in Toto’s hold to face him, “I could always wear spandex underneath.”

“Oh?” Toto looks you up and down once again, “are you sure. I’m sure we could find something else for the concert..” He pulls you closer to his chest, “though I will say I’m more than happy to buy this for you just for my eyes.” You roll your eyes smiling while Toto twiddles with one of the straps, “are you sure you don’t want to find something else?”

“No, I think this is perfect.” 

Toto hums softly as he thinks it over before he nods, “Okay, schatz. Though what shoes are you going to wear with this?”

“Probably some tights and my white platform boots.”

Toto nods, “That would work. Well, why don’t you change so we can pay for this and get some lunch, ja?”

“Su–no,” you narrow your eyes, “you still need an outfit.”

Toto groans softly, “Do I really need one?”

“Yes! How about,” you step back and put your lips together looking at Toto, "Let’s say sneakers, black jeans, one of your plain button downs, and we find you a matching jacket to my outfit. Deal?”

“Deal.”

You grin before giving Toto a swift peck before slipping back into the dressing room to change. You emerge and Toto gently plucks the outfit from your hands before draping it over his arm as you happily go back into the store to find a jacket for Toto. Nothing really suits what you’re looking for so you and Toto pay for the outfit, thanking the cashier, before leaving. 

You two bounce between more stores before making your way back into the designer end of the mall. You find some and happily watch Toto try on jackets. You get distracted while focusing on his arms and how the jacket fits him just right and you’d love to have one of those biceps under your chin and–

“Too vibrant,” you crunch your nose up as Toto turns from the mirror, “not pale enough.”

Toto chuckles and nods and this is how the next half-hour unfolds. Toto tries jackets on, your mind wanders, you explain why the suit jacket doesn’t match, and the cycle repeats. 

You're watching Toto’s fingers roll up the sleeve of the jacket while sitting in your seat. You can’t help but think about what else Toto’s fingers could be working on when he speaks and you bring your gaze up. The suit jacket fitted him perfectly. It was snug enough to cling to his arms and show off his muscles when he shifted and turned in a certain way but still loose enough that it’s breathable and you know that if you put it on, you’d be swimming in it and that’s a great thing to note. Though looking at the jacket in full, your eyes light up. It’s sparkly and the perfect matching baby blue with some white accents to your outfit. It reminds you of mermaid scales.

“Perfect!” You jump up and come over.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” you hum softly as you stand in front of him, gently button the jacket up a little cheekily before stepping back. “Yep. This is the jacket. Come on.”

You practically vibrate in excitement when Toto takes the jacket off before the two of you go to the counter. You beat Toto to it, touching your phone to the card reader and paying for the jacket, looking at your very surprised and slightly offended boyfriend and the fact you just bought his jacket. You just stare at him before turning to the worker, smiling and thanking them when they hand you the bag before turning on your heels as Toto follows you.

“Why did you do that?”

“Because you’ve bought all my outfits today and I am having you dress up with me so we can match so it’s the least I could do for you.”

Toto huffs before he makes an attempt to at least carry and lets out a soft noise of surprise when you hold the bag away from him. Toto snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you to his side as you two walked.

“Schatz,” Toto murmurs, “you have something that you shouldn’t have.”

“Mm no I think I have everything I need.” You nod slightly before Toto catches your chin and forces you to look at him, “yes?”

“The bag.” Toto states.

“What do I get if I hand the bag over?”

“You won’t be punished.”

You put your lips together in thought. As much as you would love to be punished, the concert was five days away and you did not want to spend the days leading up to it recovering from a punishment. You finally hand the bag over to Toto but tighten your grip when Toto grabs it, “if I hand this over, you have to let me pay for lunch as you now have to learn concert etiquette.”

“Concert etiquette?” 

“Yes, concert etiquette,” you nod, “but does this mean I can pay for lunch?”

Toto debates for a moment before gritting his teeth slightly because he hates not spoiling you but you got him there, “Fine but I pick where we eat.”

“Deal,” you let the bag go with a smile before turning to keep walking, “Come on, slow poke!”

“Fucking brat,” Toto murmurs loving as he watches you walk away before following you.

[keeksandgigz]

modern!bandmates eddie and reader who are kind of secretly hooking up on the side—

You’re lying in his bed in a post- coital bliss. The heady smoke of American Spirits clouding up the room as you pass the quickly dying ember back and forth between still trembling fingers.

You had a tradition of sneaking around before band rehearsals, it was easier to let off steam that way.

Passing him the cigarette and grabbing his discarded shirt— a gray Slayer shirt with the collar a bit loose, it smells a bit like your perfume— you head to the bathroom.

He stands up off the bed to grab his guitar, just to go over the arrangements for a new song you’d decided to do. Coming back, you do the same, reaching into your bag to grab loose sheets of words jumbled up together. You hum the melodies and try out new runs.

“I like that one” he speaks for the first time.

You turn your head towards him.

“The one you just did, right before the chorus? It sounds really good. I don’t know how you do it that fast” he smiles, putting out the cigarette on an ashtray sitting on his nightstand.

“I mean it’s like you being a genius with that fretboard. You zoom around that thing like it’s nobody’s business” you chuckle “I could never be able to do that.”

“Yeah you could” he says sincerely. He puts the guitar down and reaches for another instrument on his rack “Here, I’ll teach you the bass. It’s a bit easier”

You look at him, going around the bed to sit next to you “But we have rehearsals in an hour” you protest.

“You’ve said you wanted to learn how to play a couple times, didn’t you? And I have my stuff down, don’t worry” he rolls his eyes. You sit up, criss- crossing your legs, intrigue in your face. He likes the way your lips curl when you’re interested in something.

“Sit on the edge of the bed” he commands, you comply, as he drops the bass on your legs. You feel the weight of the instrument on you. The smooth wood, the jagged fretboard, the heavy metal strings.

You look at yourself in the mirror across his bed. “Do I look cool now?” you smile.

“You always look cool” he says, making his way behind you.

“But I’m not really— like— part of your world, y’know? You could be in a death metal band if you wanted, instead you’re stuck here with me doing what? dad rock? the Arctic Monkeys?” you chuckle.

“When you look the part— the black makeup on your eyes and dressed in all black you look super cool” He rubs your left arm “almost like you’ve always been part of my world.” He kisses your shoulder.

“And I don’t mind playing for your band. I get to spend more time with you, don’t I?” he smiles, and a slight tinge forms on your cheeks. You wonder if he can see it.

He positions himself so you’re sat between his legs, as his arms make their way down yours, puppeteering your fingers across the bass, its discordant rumble echoing in your bones.

After a couple hours you’d managed to play the main riff of Blitzkrieg Bop by yourself.

“See? You’re a natural” he smiles “now we can jam together instead of fucking” a boyish laugh escapes his mouth. You just smack him across the arm.

“In your dreams”

—

where has the yearning brought me omfg i haven’t written in so long

[pigcowboys]

Hi! I loved the missing reader x Percy thing you did! Could you please make a part 2?

pairing: percy jackson x gn! reader

summary: percy finds in one of the strangest places he'd never figured to look in.

warning(s): injuries, blood, depictions of depression maybe, slight violence.

a/n: this was going to come out sooner but i fucking deleted the original part 2nd had to rewrite it all *sobs* HOPE YOU ENJOY THOUGH!!

word count: 4.5k (WOAH.)

TAGLIST (lmk if you also wanna be added!): @quackitysdrugdealer @ourgoddessathena @gojos-gurl-01 @anuncalledbridge @itzmeme

part 1

have you ever had a really fucked-up mushy dream-like nightmare thing where your whole body feels like it's being submerged?

well, percy hadn't.

not until you went missing, at least.

it always went the same, he'd groggily make his way into his empty cabin, gently closing the door behind him as he'd plop onto his bed ignoring the low growling in his stomach that reminded him that he had successfully managed to skip breakfast, lunch and dinner as his head sunk into his pillow.

as quickly as it could happen — he'd fall to sleep, waking up inside of his own mind that was pitch black. nobody was around, it was just him —completely alone and..shivering? he'd take his first breath of air before a pair of cold hands would pull him down by the leg, causing him to claw at the darkness around him as he tried to loosen it's grip.

the same drowning dream - it seemed like an upgrade from any of the nightmares he was having about you.

yet, this time , just as he was about to wake up from the torture and lay restless in his bed he'd finally find his footing. footing on..grass.

where was he?

percy squinted his eyes as he adjusted to the silhouette of something or, someone in the distance. he most likely should've ran but, he found himself chasing after the figure, running through the meadow he'd found himself in as he finally caught up.

out of breath he looked around for the thing he was chasing before his eyes spotted something.

you.

wait, you?

a smile creeped onto your face when you spotted him, staring at you like he'd seen a ghost. he might as well have, right? you weren't actually here, that was for sure.

"well, don't just stand there," you spoke up suddenly, lithe in your voice. you sounded almost human. "sit," you patted the grassy spot next to you, looking at him with curious eyes.

he obeyed immediately, sitting criss-cross next to you, his scuffed-up converses looking back at him. despite your eagerness to get to speak with him, all percy could do was stare at you with a dazed expression.

"you're not.." percy said, trailing off.

"I’m not..” you trailed off, waiting for him to finish. percy almost flinched when you placed your hand onto his trembling one. "are you okay, perce?" you prodded, a concerned look on your face as you stared him dead in his eyes.

freaky, his heart skipped a beat.

percy analyzed your face for a moment longer, reading too much into how his mind had managed to get every last feature down to a tee. he shook his head yes as an answer to your question, leaning forward slightly when a soft laugh left your lips.

it was close enough to the original.

"did you miss me?" you asked, brushing your fingers against his own absentmindedly.

"more than you could ever imagine." percy breathed out, interlocking your fingers. his voice wavered slightly as he spoke — even though it was in the comfort of his own mind, he still managed to get choked up seeing you. the blank stare on your face as you stared back at him with an otherworldly look in your eyes prompted him to lean forward, pulling you into a tight hug.

you hugged back reluctantly, thankfully not mentioning the fact he sniffed your clothes slightly as his head sunk further into the crook of your neck, molding with your own body. you cradled his head, stroking his hair slightly and percy tried his best not to cry.

he missed this, he missed you.

"percy," he hummed in acknowledgement. "i can barely breathe..” you murmured quietly, to which he loosened his grip around you, leaning back to observe you silently.

his mind prompted him to make a comment about whether or not possibly dead partners in his mind were able to breathe but he decided agaisnt it, it’d kill the mood, he decided.

“are you..you’re okay, right?” he asked, concern laced in his voice. percy had always had weird dreams before, it wasn’t like it was anything new at all — though, most of those dreams had a deeper meaning.

judging by the fact you were basically another version of his partner that his mind had conjured up, it was definitely trying to say something. maybe he was in over his head but, he had to know that you were at least safe.

you — or the other you, stared at him silently as a smile curl onto your lips. you brought a hand to cup his face, pressing a chaste kiss to his nose as you pulled back to look at his dazed expression.

“we’ll be together soon,” you murmured out. “and when we meet,” you pressed on, a playfully glint in your eye. “i’ll make sure you get a good night’s sleep.”

he felt slightly called out yet; couldn’t bear to argue back — not when the look in your eyes was one that he’d missed every single day since you disappeared. so, he bit his tongue, nodding a yes before collapsing back into your arms which gladly welcomed him back.

he felt at peace for once in the last month as he laid his head in your lap, eyes drooping as he tried his best to fight the sleep that was overpowering him. he could barely manage to understand the whisper of “i love you” in his ear as he finally fell back to sleep.

now, percy had never been a morning person but, waking up after having a dream that surreal was the equivalent of waking up and realizing you’d managed to sleep past all 5 of your alarms.

was it possible to wake up and feel like you were still sleeping? i mean, I guess it was now. everything about that dream he experienced stuck with him. especially, for that one-liner of yours.

“we’ll meet soon “ how soon? in a few days or so?

it felt like more of a finishing move for him to be honest. you wanted him to come find you right? you were alive and this was your way of trying to tell him where you had been.

uh..probably. it didn’t matter. how long had been since you were gone? too long, that’s the answer. he didn’t just miss seeing you around, he needed to see you, now— right now. it seemed like everyone except him wasn't as worried about you.

so, maybe that’s what prompted him to sneak out of the camp in the middle of the night to find you. it was dangerous, that was for damn sure. though, he couldn’t sit around and wait for a search to start. he’d lose you just as quickly as he got you with that mentality.

in the end, it was no use, it was clear you weren’t anywhere near camp half-blood. this wasn’t something he could solve in the span of a few days, huh? last thing he’d heard of you, you were supposed to head out on some quest for chiron.

it wasn’t supposed to take a few days, just a quick pop over to the next state over. he remembered you complaining about going, fearing something might cause you to hold up there for a moment too long, missing his birthday.

he shrugged you off with a kiss, promising that it didn’t matter what happened, you’d celebrate his birthday whenever you two met again. you smiled back at him, agreeing to do so.

“you’re sure you want to do this alone?” annabeth asked, shrugging her backpack on as she slung her holster to the side. “I’m not saying you’re not capable, i'm just..worried.”

“i’ll be fine,” percy replied, absentmindedly fiddling with riptide that was tucked into his hoodie. “you’re going to search too?”

annabeth cracked a small smile.

“i can’t let you do this alone, strength in numbers and what not.” that almost made percy smile. it was nice to know at least someone believed in him, that someone cared enough to support him in his decision.

he nodded, hopping onto blackjack as he steadied himself on the stallion. he stared down at Annabeth with solemn eyes, he wanted to say something though, he wasn’t sure what. what could he say at all?

“thanks.” he murmured out, averting his eyes. annabeth smiled at him, a warm one that was filled with sadness regardless. she looked like she was trying to reassure him, to make him think that everything was going to be okay. he guessed she was just as scared as he was of what might’ve happened to you.

after all, there’s only a few different reasons behind half-bloods going missing. and he feared you weren’t going to be showing up at camp with a hazy memory anytime soon. he bid annabeth goodbye, darting off on blackjack as he tried to think of the first place to look for you.

it wasn’t exactly easy to find someone who’d seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth, percy had to sadly figure that out as he glided through the air, checking places he believed you might’ve been when you left for your quest.

despite the reassurance from blackjack, he still was starting to slowly lose his resolve — just a bit.

he managed to find a place to sleep in for the night, reluctantly taking refugee in a not-so-satisfactory run down motel that was situated a bit off the main road.

he was sure if you were here with him you’d complain about the quality of the hotel, taking extra precautions to make sure neither of you contract anything that might’ve been lurking around. percy could almost hear your voice as he threw his stuff to the floor of the room, collapsing on the bed completely spent.

the bed wasn’t comfortable — like.. at all, but it was good enough for him considering he’d been practically limping around for the past half an hour, running on only a few hours of sleep. if percy had it his way, he wouldn’t have even went to this motel.

he would’ve continued to search for you till the crack of dawn. though, he imagined what you’d say to the prominent eye bags on his face when you finally met again, concern laced on your face as you asked him what had happened to him.

for once that night, the nightmares had finally stopped — surprisingly. percy guessed was too tried to dream about anything specifically. a part of him enjoyed not having an double edged dreams anymore, even if the other part desperately wished he’d dream of you again — just one more time to let him know you were probably still alive.

he dragged his feet, groggily making his way out of his room as he checked out, proceeding back on his search on foot.

blackjack had been carrying him around him around for hours the prior day — it was only fair that he got a break. especially considering all the bad vibes percy was giving off with your disappearance. though, he had to admit, he really missed the quips of the stallion as he searched for you.

you sure you’re good alone? blackjack asked, his face unmoving yet his voice laced with obvious worry.

“i’ll be fine,” percy replied, sleep still evident in his voice. “i’ll catch you later, okay?”

blackjack neighed in agreement, flapping his wings slightly as he hovered above the air, stilling for a moment as he looked down at percy.

be careful, boss. then he was gone.

percy had to admit, he did miss not having to use his own two feet.

he had ventured a bit deeper into the nearby city a few ways past the motel. for the early time that it was, everyone was especially bright. it made percy slightly embarrassed when he realized how he probably looked like; completely and totally exhausted. his messy bed hair he hasn’t bothered to fix before leaving most likely didn’t help at all.

he absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair, attempting to make it look at-least calm as his mind flashed with memories of you once doing the same as he was. it hurt his heart to think about it.

percy figured he’d grab a bite to eat before heading back out, settling on going to a nearby diner that was situated in the city a few blocks down. he was almost eased by the sights of the happy families walking hand and hand down the street, a small smile softly making its way onto his face as he advanced towards the restaurant.

he wondered if you doing okay — wherever you were.

he felt uncomfortable as he made his way towards a small diner tucked away from the main bustling street. it was fishy but, he was hungry -- and tired as hell. percy slid into a booth, watching intently as a waiter came over to him, writing down his order - which was the first good thing he'd seen on the menu.

he practically scarfed it all down when his order came out, he was so entranced with his food he barely noticed the dog that had snuck its way over to his table, begging for some of his food which he graciously offered to it.the dog caught the sasuage in mid-air, swallowing it with one bite, it was the first time he’d been amused in a while. then, a thought struck him.

you’d love this, wouldn't you?

then he wasn't as amused as he was a second ago, finishing his food in quiet silence as the dog ran back to who percy presumed was his owner.

yikes..not even the dog wanted to stay with him?

percy exited the diner after finishing his food - he'd noticed some of the workers had started to pay extra attention to him as he ate. their eyes followed him out the door after he paid as well.

monsters, in plain sight too. hey, at least he got to eat something before they noticed.

he returned to the road before he knew it, once again regretting his streak of empathy that had left him resorting to walking again. after all that's happened, he wasn't too sure he was fond of land.

he started to get that feeling he was getting followed, a chill shiver up his spine as he stole glances behind him - nobody was there. though, he knew better. it was undeniable that he was going to be ambushed at some point into this walk.

the feeling started to intensify the further he walked, everything in him told him to run. and he was sure that they were right for saying so when he was almost sliced by a sharp claw from above. percy reared his head to look up at the sky, meeting eyes with his attacker - er..attackers.

he was surrounded.

percy felt like he recognized the look of these monsters - it must've been one that you'd told him about before. man, he wished he'd paid attention instead of zoning out and staring at your lips.

percy's mind raced as the monsters started to grow closer to him, swiping at him from the air which he managed to duck by a hair, taking off as he made a mad dash down the street - the forest.

maybe, he'd be able to lose them for a bit 'till he could put together a plan.

percy's lungs hurt as he ran, he was running pretty fast for someone who hadn't gotten a full 8 hours of sleep. last night might've been the first time in what..three days? gosh, he hadn't eaten either. what would you say?

percy's legs gave out after some time as he tumbled clumsily into a hiding spot, ducking down as he heard the monsters zoom around in confusion before heading in a direction not too far off from where he was. he was stranded, and this time with no help.

maybe he should've asked annabeth to come along after all.

percy's throat stung as he tried to steady his breathing, uncapping riptide as he readied his sword, standing up quietly as he zoned in on the forest. the monsters were probably a few feet away from him, nose still fresh on his scent.

it'd be a matter of time before they caught his scent over here and attacked him, killing him before he could even get to you. he felt queasy at the prospect of that.

still, he readied his sword, making a mad dash towards where the monsters were. he figured he'd get the jump on them, after all, despite being fast, they were dumb as bricks. and he'd use that to his advantage.

it all moved too fast for him to process - he managed to get the jump on one of the monsters, swiftly cutting at it as it sunk to the ground, calling its other friends towards it. then, percy was sinking his sword around like a madman, dodging the monster's heavy attacks as he sidestepped, taking out two as he dove out of the way of one that charged at them.

he would've found it funny if he hadn't been struck by another one of them, slicing harshly at his sin as it took advantage of the fact he was caught off guard, going in for another attack that would've caved in his skull if he hadn't ducked.

okay..maybe this was a bit serious.

percy managed to get the upper hand despite his hindrance, killing the other monsters as he finished off the final one - maybe a bit more bruised than he would've hoped to be. his eyes were heavy and his legs felt like lead as he moved away from the forest, making it back to the main road before collapsing all completely.

how seriously lame could he be?

percy's eyes fluttered open as he took notice of the fact he was moving now. his eyes adjusted to the sky, a yawn slipping through him as he steadied himself.

"blackjack," he murmured out, eyebrow knitted in confusion. "how'd I get here? how'd you know..?"

"you really thought i'd leave you there alone when you looked like that? hah!" blackjack kicked his feet as he laughed which percy guessed meant that he really did look rough. percy's face burned in embarrassment.

"how long was i out for?" percy asked, leaning his head back to look up at the sky.

"a while. not too long though," blackjack whined. "just in time for campfire time - er, if you're even up for it." percy frowned, it was nighttime and he still hadn't found you. he'd have to wait a bit more before he'd be able to arrange another search party for you - especially with his injuries.

his shoulder seemed to bloom with discomfort as he said that, causing him to stifle a wince of pain.

"blackjack?"

the horse whined in response, zooming through the sky at a leisurely pace. "yeah?" he said.

"when we get back..i'll let you have whatever you wanna eat."

that seemed to somehow raise blackjack's drive as the ride got significantly faster when percy said that. they were back at camp before he even really knew it. percy had been more tired than he realized, he practically chucked the bundle of carrots blackjack had requested, trudging towards the poseidon cabin.

now, percy wasn't an unfriendly person but, he had to admit, when some of the campers came up to ask if he was okay, he had to resist the urge to reply with "what do you think?", not his best moment.

his heart hurt terribly - though he wasn't sure if it was because of the injuries he'd suffered or the fact he still hadn't found you. he'd have to visit the infirmary, like, after he slept - he was exhausted.

his eyes were glued to the floor as as he opened the door to the poseidon cabin, stumbling in slightly as he moved his head to look up finally, breath catching in his throat.

the current occupant of his thoughts, the reason he had been tossing and turning at night - completely and utterly spent but still wide awake. hell, the reason he even went on some stupid expedition without so much as a first clue or guidance.

you.

his lips trembled as he stared at you, mind blank as you stared back at him. the actual you - not some dream persona he'd made up to cope with the loneliness of you being absent. his body moved fasted than his mind because, before you could so much as muster up a word out of your beautiful lips, he charged you, tackling you into a crushing hug - and it was real.

so real.

percy choked back a sob as you hugged him back, your arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders as he clutched your waist like you were going to disappear again if he didn't grasp hard enough. no words were spoken as you embraced each other.

"percy.. i can't breathe," you mumbled out, a small giggle in your voice. he reluctantly let go of you, his hands never leaving your waist as you smiled at him. gods..he wanted to kiss you so badly.

so he did, leaning forward suddenly as he pressed an urgent kiss to your lips. he felt like he could've died right there when you kissed back, sighing into the kiss as your hand moved to cup his face.

percy parted from the kiss, eyes twitching with tears that threatened to spill as he spoke finally, voice breathless. "how..wh?" he sputtered out.

yeah, real smooth, percy.

"the hunters," you answered his incoherent question. "they found me - I was barely staying alive around that time before they got to me." percy felt his heart sink.

"what happened?" percy asked, voice soft. his fingers played with the hem of your shirt as he held you, eyebrows knit in concern. you stared at him silently for a moment before speaking.

"i was intercepted," you said casually - like it was something that happened every day to you. "barely got away with my life - I guess my parent was looking out for me at that moment cause I managed to fend them off and find shelter." your voice tried to be playfully though, there was an undertone of sadness in your voice.

percy frowned heavily, cupping your face as he examined it carefully. "but..you're okay, right? no bruises..?" you nodded as best as you could with his hands holding your head steady, smiling slightly when he released his grip on your cheeks.

"i'm sorry i didn't iris message - or say anything," you apologized quietly. how could you seriously apologize for something like that? you were practically at your deathbed. "when i got back to camp - the connection wasn't working.." you trailed off, seemingly still shaken up.

"when i was out of commission, they ransacked my camp - i couldn't grab my stuff..i didn't have any change." your face heated up in embarrassment.

percy felt his blood boil in anger as he listened to your story, you seemed so shaken up - he was mad at himself for not being there to help you. he didn't even have the first clue you were. what kind of boyfriend was he?

"all that matters in you're safe.." he sighed out, smiling softly as his fingers traced your features gently. now that he had experienced the loss of not having you in his life, he was going to make sure he'd treasure all the time he spent with you.

"you're hurt." you pointed out, eyebrows furrowed in concern as you reached a hand out to graze against the slash on his shoulder. "i have nectar," you said, rushing towards your pack that was situated on the floor alongside some other belongings.

had you been sleeping here while he was away?

despite how long you'd been dating, percy never ceased to get choked up when you were in close proximity to him. it seemed to be flaring up even worse now considering it'd been so long since he'd seen you. he leaned his head back as you fed him the nectar, smiling slightly as the taste flooded his mouth, comforting him instantly.

"better?" you asked, setting the nectar aside.

"better," he replied, smiling warmly, his eyes drifting to your pack on the floor along with your other belongings "..have you been sleeping here?"

you turned around to stare at the assortment of personal items that had been littered around the floor of the poseidon cabin - evidence that percy was correct. how you managed to even sneak into his cabin without the counselors noticing was a mystery to him, not that it mattered at all.

"i'm exhausted.." percy sighed out, hands coming up to grip your waist as he buried his head into your shoulder. "think you can stay another night in here? I'll keep you company this time." percy said, rearing his head up to look at you.

you hummed in thought, though, he wasn't sure why you tried to pretend like you even needed to think about it. a pretty smile spread across your face as you murmured out a small 'yeah, sure'.

oh gods, it was cute that you were trying to hide your excitement.

"i just realized! i totally missed your birthday, didn't i?" you asked suddenly, reminding percy that he had in fact missed his own birthday as well. gods, his mom - he needed to call her. she was probably worried sick.

"it's fine..i did too." he smiled slightly,percy hoped you couldn't see how red his face was in the dimmer lighting of the poseidon cabin. or how his eyes kept flicking towards your lips again as you spoke. ah..he was only human after all.

"let's celebrate tomorrow, yeah?" he whispered, pulling you towards him as the two of you lay side by side on his bed, bodies turned towards each other.

"it's a date." you replied, a small smile on his face

percy laughed at that, leaning forward to press a slow kiss to your lips, pulling away to rest his forehead against your own as he breathed in your scent. something bloomed in his stomach when he did, instantly putting him at ease as he sighed contently against your skin, a smile curling onto his lips.

"i missed this.." was all he whispered before he ended up dozing off, his arms wrapped around you like he was scared you were going to disappear again as the two of you slept soundly. percy was pretty sure chiron and mr. d knew you weren't where you were supposed to be but, he guessed that they owed this to him, right?

yeah, they did. it'd been too long since he experienced having your skin against his own like this. it made all the nights spent restless in his bed seem like a thing of the past as percy slept soundly that night - no nightmares, nothing.

just the soft sound of your snores and your fingers interlocked with his own.

[novvabee]

And They Were Roommates pt.7

Summary: this one is pretty short and sweet, but Y/N makes the boys friendship bracelets.

“What colors do you want?” you ask Sirius who is sitting on the other side of the couch, picking out beads and charms that he likes. You were making little bracelets for you and the girls when Sirius walked in the living room and asked what you were up to. He cozied up next to you and watched as you intricately wove and knotted a pink, white, and green bracelet for Lily. Once you were finished he sweetly asked for one, and you of course agreed.

“Do you have red and black?” he asked, still sifting through the little charms.

“Of course,” you replied, “I also have this silvery color I think you’d like.” You lifted the string of the shimmery silver so he could see. His face lit up and he nodded. You cut three equal length strings in the colors he wanted and began tying knots.

He handed you three charms that he wanted: a star, a red guitar, and cherries. You couldn’t explain it, but those charms just made sense on a Sirius bracelet. 

He hovered over you, watching intently, sitting close enough to rest his chin on your shoulder. You enjoyed this small, quiet moment with Sirius. You felt like you didn’t get them often, but when they happen, it leaves you with a warm feeling all over.

“Could you teach me how to make one?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, “just grab some colors and copy me.” you turned to face him, legs criss-crossed, knees touching his. 

“Ok, just go slow.” he said.

You smiled and showed him the basic knots and loops he had to copy, at a much slower pace, making sure your work was on clear display for him to follow. “See you make a ‘4’ with the strings, and make sure it is tight so that you can see the pattern,” you explained, “and then you move to the next string.”

“W-wait, slow down.” he laughed.

“Keep up, slow poke.” you laughed back. In all fairness, he did try, but somewhere along the way it all went wrong. 

The bracelet, if you could call it that, turned into some sort of knotted ball, strings hanging loose. You bit your lip and turned away to stop from laughing.

“Don’t you dare laugh.” he said, this just made you hide your face in your hands to muffle the giggles coming out. “Stop it! I tried so hard!” he said, fake pouting. 

“Oh it’s lovely Siri,” you laughed, holding out your wrist for him to tie it to. It looked like something a cat would play with, but you were genuinely proud of him for trying. He grabbed ahold of your wrist and secured it, a goofy smile cut across his face. You loved to see it, loved that he was comfortable to be silly around you, himself around you.

“Ok, ok my turn.” you say to him. He closed his eyes and held out his wrist, the same way you did. You tied the bracelet around his wrist, knotting it to make sure he could take it off when he wanted. “Ok look!”

He opened his eyes. His smile grew and he looked quite pleased. “I love it.” he said, eyes not moving from the strings. There it was again, that warm little feeling. "You gotta tie it tighter so it wont come off." you nodded and tightened it. You thought surely he would take it off soon after you put it on, but maybe you thought wrong.

You heard footsteps make their way downstairs. You looked up seeing Remus, still in pajamas and hair a bit messy. 

“Morning sunshine.” Sirius shot at him. Remus yawned and made his way over to the pair of you. It wasn’t irregular for him to sleep in so late, usually allowing himself a day of rest once a month, you figured it was because he always stayed up so late and he was trying to fix his sleep schedule.

“Hi Remmy,” you greeted him.

“What are you two up to?” he asked, voice groggy and deep.

“We are making bracelets, Y/N is teaching me.” Sirius said, holding his wrist up for Remus to see.

Remus took Sirius’s hand and held it close, examining your work. He smiled at you. “Fine craftsmanship, I see,” he said jokingly.

“Would you like one? I can make one for you as well.” you asked. It would not take long at all, you had made hundreds before.

He nodded. “Course I would like one, love.”

You beamed up at him, clapping your hands eagerly. “Pick out the colors and charms you’d like.” you ordered him.

He chose green, brown, and a yellowy tan color. The colors much like the sweaters he often wears. He picked out a singular charm, a crescent moon, and the letters spelling out ‘moony’.

“Moony?” you asked. He was now sitting on the armchair, sitting sideways, long legs dangling over the arm’s edge. 

He chuckled, supplying you with a short, “It’s a nickname.”

“But why-” you were interrupted with the front door opening and James swooping in, always the tornado. He was out of breath and sweaty, just coming back from a jog.

“Hello! I need to shower- Ah Remus nice to see you’re finally awake, anyways after that I want to make dinner-Chicken and pasta alright?” he asked, so fast paced and chaotic, the way he always was. He stopped in his tracks when he saw what you were doing, coming to the back of the couch and looking over. “What is that?” he asked.

“A bracelet, I made one for Sirius and now one for Remus. Sirius made me one too, which I love and am very proud of.” you held up your arm for James to see the yarn ball dangling halfway on your wrist. James and Remus both burst into laughter, Sirius chuckling along with them. 

“Well that's not fair,” James said, “if you are making friendship bracelets, I want one too.”

You giggled at the slight childishness of that statement, but  replied, “Fine, you pick out some colors and charms too.”

James picked red, yellow, and white for his colors and two tiny gold charms; a sun and a lightning bolt. The sun made sense for him, he was always the light and warmth within the house, bright and happy. The lightning bolt however…

“Why the lightning bolt?” you asked, straining your neck all the way back to look at him above the couch.

He smiled down at you and shrugged. “No clue, I just think it’s cool.”

Taglist 💌: @too-efn-old-to-be-here @cometsghost @eeviee4 @giuli-in-earth @spicybearnaise @the-lavender-girl @adharalikethestar @champomiel @itsleroyposts

[mattslolita]

daddy issues - c. sturniolo ( 001. )

in which ... whilst trying to sneak over to your house one night, chris experiences the unwarranted wrath of your father firsthand — and he learns the truth about everything you experience behind closed doors. ( best friend!chris x black!fem!reader )

warnings ; angst, fighting, crying, mentions of abuse, drug use, and self harm

"𝒈𝒐 𝒂𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒓𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍, 𝒏𝒐𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

the cold night air made shivers crawl up chris sturniolo's spine as he made the familiar trek to your one story home — you lived on the rougher side of the neighborhood, but he didn’t mind the escape from his side. sure it was sketchy, yet knowing that you were close by gave him a sort of comfort.

it began in the second grade when you had just switched schools due to the scholarship you recieved — you had originally gone somewhere on your side of town, but your mom gathered up enough money to be able to send you off there. and that’s how chris met you; a group of boys had been name calling you, talking shit about where you came from. a bloody nose and suspension later, he had officially become your best friend. you still weren’t too close with his brothers, yet they were always respesctful and nice to you. matt was the quietest of them, but nonetheless polite; nick was nice, but you sometimes got a feel that he didn’t particularly favor you — he wasn’t a snobby rich kid, but the vibes weren’t all the way there. chris said that nick was just protective about the girls chris let into his life, being that over the years they had done him dirty.

but you were his best friend — you guys talked about everything and did everything together. you both had practically been attached at the hip, and although you ran in different crowds at school, chris never left you out unless it was something you wanted. he was very protective of you, especially when the guys on the lacrosse had tried flirting with you or trying to hit a few times, but he made sure they had stayed away from you.

he rubbed his calloused hands together, looking to see if the side of your home to make sure the coast was clear — chris knew that you rarely liked to have him come over because you despised your home life, but he insisted many times that no matter what it wouldn’t change how he viewed you.

he quietly makes his way towards your bedroom window, grinning as he sees your nightlight on — you had your nose buried in the book after, and it made him shake his head and smile having seen that movie with you. your brown legs glimmered in the dim light as they laid criss-cross in front of you whilst your eyes scanned the pages.

chris picked up a small rock and pelts it at the window, causing you to gasp lightly and jolt as you quickly turn towards the window. he grins when he sees your unimpressed expression staring back at him, scurrying towards the window and opening it.

“chris, you know my window gon break easily!” you whisper shouted at him, stepping aside as he crawled through.

“i know a guy who can install one y/n, just give me the-”

“boy, please get yo ass over there so i can close this, it’s freezing!” you complain quietly, chris grunting as he runs a hand through his hair whilst he steps to the side to let you close the window.

from behind you, he examines the knotless braids that adorn your head as well as the side view of your glasses that frame your eyes — one of his favorite things about you were your glasses and cute you looked with him. he had his fun once in a while, taking them off then holding them above your head as you tried to reach for them helplessly, usually ending up in a painful punch to the arm from you.

“hey sweetheart, look what i got for us,” chris smirks, pulling you to turn around by your waist as he fishes a joint from behind his ear, holding it up to you proudly.

“chris, i don’t know if i can…” you say, chewing your lip anxiously as you fix your glasses on your face, “my dad might smell it and lose his shit.”

“i doubt he’ll notice, y/n,” chris reassures you, moving to sit down on your bed, motioning for you to follow him, “c’mere, try and relax with me.”

he pats the spot next to him, and you roll your eyes and sit there reluctantly — you watch as chris pulls a lighter out of his pocket, holding it up to the joint he held to his lips and lighting it. you tried not to do drugs because the memory of your mom overdosing on them was too painful, and it’d remind you of her. drinking alcohol was also on the list of not to dos, seeing as your dad was a drunk — you were too embarrassed to tell chris about it, because you didn’t want him to view you as the girl with the wrong side of the tracks with a dead, junkie mom and drunk dad. chris was only ever down to do these things with you if it was something you expressed interest in.

he inhales the joint and blows the smoke towards the window, tapping it a few times before rubbing his thumb across his nose and offering it to you. “here, your turn.”

chris puts one arm around the small of your back, rubbing comforting circles as you take the joint and hold them up to your lips — he watches you with an amused expression as you fix your glasses, your nose crinkling at the strong scent.

before you could inhale anything, a sudden bang sounded on the other side of your door causing your heart to thump in your chest as you quickly shove the blunt back into chris’s hand. his eyebrows furrow in confusion as you jump up and make your way to your door, opening it just a crack.

“hi, daddy,” your voice cracks, a tight-lipped smile forming onto your face as you stare up at the man, “is everything okay?”

the six foot man towers over your barely five foot four figure in the doorway, glaring angrily at you as he stumbles slightly before turning up a forty ounce — you gulp and watch as the liquid rides down his throat, the posion in his insides causing his eyes to flame up as his nostrils flare at you.

“you been too quiet in here, little girl,” he slurs, shoving his foot in between your door and the wall, “what the hell you doin’ up in here?”

“i’m not doin nothin’ daddy, i’m j-just readin’,” you stutter out, fear evident in your eyes as he rubs across his nose and shakes his nose. “do you want me to-”

“get on out the damn way…”

your dad shoves you to the side, and you tremble as he forces his way into your room — chris sits there in shock, blunt still in hand as his eyes immediately land on your dad. 

“a fuckin…a fuckin dude, up in here y/n?” his voice booms, throwing the forty ounce bottle at the wall beside you, causing you to let out a cry as the glass nearly hits you.

“yo, what the fuck?” chris immediately jumps up from his spot, the blunt long forgotten as it’s smashed out when chris pulls his pants up and begins to jet towards you.

“don’t go near her,” your dad sneers at chris, grabbing the young boy’s collar as he holds him up by his shirt, causing your eyes to widen.

“daddy stop, it’s just my best friend!” you wail, trying to get him off of chris, but to no avail. he continues to shake chris up, still having him held up by the collar.

“get the fuck off of me!” chris spat, a fire in his eyes you didn’t recognize — it wasn’t often where chris got mad mad, and it was definitely a sight to see after what happens.

"what kid, you think you tough? think you can fight me off?" your dad jeers, droplets of spittle landing on chris's face as his grip on the boy was unwavering.

chris jerked in your dad's grasp, and that was enough for you to take matters into your own hands — you sprinted into the kitchen, your eyes darting around the messy room as your eyes landed on the pan over the stove. thank goodness it was turned off, but your instincts knew what you had to do.

grabbing the pan, you turn the hall and rush back into your room — your eyes widened, seeing as your dad had slammed chris against the wall now, and the poor boy look like he was struggling to breathe at this point.

without a second though, you slammed the pan against your dad's head; his grip on chris had ceased immediately, causing him to fall to the floor, a thud sounding as a result.

you stood in shock, the tears streaming down your face as you stared down at your concussed dad — chris was in a state of shock as well; he looked over at you and your brokenhearted expression, and a sharp pain tugged at his heartstrings.

he would've never guessed his best friend had been going through these things.

all those nights you'd stay over his place started to make sense now, as you covered it up with just wanting to spend more time with him, making up for loss time you didn't hang out at school; the faint bruises you tried to hide with makeup, but chris studied you closely, he knew everything about you — he felt like a shit best friend, because now he thought you didn't trust him enough to tell him in depth the things that happened to you.

"i'm sorry, chris..." you choked, finally having torn your eyes away from your dad as they now were fixated on chris, "you weren't supposed to see this...any of it..."

"hey, hey, hey, you have nothing to be sorry for, y/n," chris says immediately, stepping over your dad's frame as he makes his way towards you.

he pulls you into his arms, his warm embrace causing you to melt as more choked sobs escape your lips — he whispers sweet nothings into your ear as he holds you close to him, wanting nothing more than to protect you.

and get you away from this.

"how long as this been happening, y/n?" chris asks you when he senses that you've calmed down.

"um...since momma's died," you tell him quietly, a sniffle sounding from your nose, "not immediately after, i'd say a few months."

"this shit's been happening since fucking fifth grade?" chris seethes, and now you feel the anger radiating off of him.

"yeah, but p-please chris, don't worry about me," you tell him, breaking out of his hold as you look up at him, "i'm fine-"

"no, you aren't fine," chris immediately interrupts you, his gaze stern, "i understand if you didn't want to tell me about this, but now that i know, i'm doing what i can to keep you away from this."

your eyebrows furrowed as you took your glasses off and wiped your tears away, giving him a look of confusion. "what do you mean? wait, chris...please, i'm begging you, don't go to the police about it. i'm not eighteen yet, they gon send me to foster care, and-"

"if it's what you want, i won't," chris sighs, and you nod to him, rubbing your arm as you look around your room, "but you're coming to stay with us for a few days."

your eyes widened. "chris, i can't just intrude on y'all family like that. what's yo parents gonna say?"

"you know my mom loves you, y/n," chris shakes his head, "and everybody will be fine with it, alright? it's just like the sleepovers we had as kids."

at the fond memory, you smiled as you remembered the many sleepovers you've had in the sturniolo household — one particular one, it was your eleventh birthday; marylou being the sweetest soul she was invited you over to celebrate with them. you had a cake, candles, ice cream, but more importantly, you had chris. even nick and matt were sweet to you on the occasion, making you extra happy. she took you all to chucky e cheese, and you remember being in the ticket blaster and how everyone clapped for you with the amount of tickets you got. when you all came home, you had fallen asleep on the bed pallet marylou and jimmy set up for you, with moana playing in the background — and you never felt it in your sleep, but chris planted a gentle kiss to your cheek, promising you that every birthday you had would be a special one if it was up to him.

you smiled at chris, a tear escaping your eyes. "okay, i'll stay with y'all."

( lilly's section 💌 )

yes gang, this will be a sad series😆 but not to fear, bff chris finna be on LOCKKKK this man will do anything to protect you. i hope you guys will like this series !! no promises for an updating schedule, cause clearly y'all can see i'm inconsistent w posting😭.

to my wifey @muwapsturniolo who gave me inspo to make this a series😘😘.

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @mrssturnioloo @mattsturniolosleftnut @sturnprime @thenickgirl @guccifrog @nickgetsmewetter @eyeliketoeatpoosay @e1ias3 @sp3aknaur @middlepartmatt @summerssover @riasturns @sturn777 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @pinksturniolo @chrissturniolossidehoe @chris-slut @hoesformatt @raysmayhem-72 @lanas-doll @chrisssluttywaist @mbbsgf @jetaimevous @chaossturns @cottoncandyswisherz

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

warnings: injury, sexual innuendo

"Oh, Daryl..." you murmured, your stomach sinking as his back was bared to you, criss-crossed with abrasions and smeared with dark purple and black bruising spotted with red. "Babe—" Your forehead creased with your frown as you gently touched his shoulder.

He sighed. Despite how worn out and painful his body was, your fingertips still lit electricity across his skin. "'M alrigh'," he drawled, toeing his boots off where he sat on the edge of the bed.

You moved around him and stepped in close between his knees, reaching to brush his hair away from his face. "You've been taking quite the beating lately," you said sadly. Your hands landed lightly on his sides.

He gulped, wanting to ease your obvious worry. "Any hit I get receives three from me," he drawled, glancing up and hoping to see your face soften, the tension ease.

Instead you just shook your head, that soft pout on your lips. He wanted to kiss it. "Lie back," you said gently. "I'll take care of you."

He obeyed and grimaced as he swung his legs onto the bed and his head hit the pillows.

You reached for his button and fly, aiming to make him more comfortable and check the rest of him for any injuries that needed attention.

"Oh—that ain't what I thought ya meant by takin' care of me, but I ain't gonna argue. Just be gentle," he drawled, one corner of his mouth twitching up.

Finally. A small smile on your face. "Shush."

Prompt: "You've been taking quite the beating lately." / "Any hit I get receives three from me."

[daistea]

If you ever have the time, would you ever feel like taking a request with mithrun x an elf reader who's been taking care of him for a while? I've been thinking that they'd know of each other pre-demon, but weren't well acquainted (different circles, and reader is more introverted (like misril)) at the time until post-demon where they help nurse him to health and mayhaps join the canaries as a healer/support for the group.

If that's too specific, that's fine! You can take liberties.

If youre like "yeah that plain just won't happen with mithrun/hes not like that", that's fine! You don't need to write it if you don't want to

I don't want to force you or anything; it's just something that's been floating in my mind, recently!

Of course my friend! You asked so nicely <3

I think I’ll use she/her pronouns for the reader with this one if that’s cool! 

Sooooo I’m assuming Mithrun was one of the Wardens in his squad. I don’t recall if it ever mentioned if he was in the first squad or the second. If it’s the second, then Milsiril might’ve been the Vice-Captain of his specific squad at the time, and Mithrun was her second in command like Pattadol is to him now. Cus u know Pattadol is second in command because she’s nobility, and Mithrun is nobility.. Yadda yadda. Let’s just go with that for simplicity’s sake. And since there’s only two Wardens to a squad, I’ve taken the liberty of making the reader a criminal, but it’s for something stupid like… jaywalking lol. Jaywalking using black magic. Or uh maybe using black magic to heal. Both? Two criminal charges, you rebel you

anywho..

tw suicide, mental illness, self harm, blood

Dungeon Meshi Spoilers ahead! 

4500ish words

"Vignettes of a 40 Year Old Desire" - Mithrun x elf/healer female reader

●・○・●・○・●

Getting started was the hardest part.

You took a deep breath, your hands hovering over the wound. The slice in Mithrun’s arm was clean, with no brutal ridges. It would scar, but it would be a straight, neat white line on his skin when it was over. Even Mithrun’s wounds were perfect. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. His voice was soft, and it reminded you of warm blankets on winter days. Your eyes flickered up to meet his and he offered a smile. 

“Yeah,” you said. You sat beside him with your legs curled up beneath you. He sat with his legs criss-crossed, casual as if his bicep hadn’t just been nearly sliced open by the sword of a living armor. He had to be in pain, it was a deep wound. You’d managed to stop the excessive bleeding, but the paleness of his cheeks betrayed that he was feeling weak. 

Still, starting was the hardest part. 

You summoned your stores of mana, connecting to the spirits that made up the world. They were all around you, willing to obey, willing to lay upon Mithrun’s wound and graft his skin back together. A soft light glowed from beneath your palm as you ran your fingers around the edges of the wound. You weren’t sure why getting started was difficult for you, perhaps it was the feeling of magic pulsing through your veins that startled you, or the very fact that you had the ability to defy nature in this way. And there was that little bell that rang in the back of your mind, that urge to go further, deeper, darker. 

That damn bell and its ringing had gotten your ears clipped. 

You pulled back from Mithrun, letting your hands drop into your lap. “Done,” was all you said.

He blinked in surprise, then lifted his arm to inspect the spot where he’d been sliced. There was a faint scar, but it would probably fade if he got some sun. His lips twitched into a frown at the sight, but that expression immediately died, pushed aside and replaced with a smile. Mithrun didn’t need the sun, actually, he carried enough shine in his smiles…. Is what someone stupid would say. 

“Thank you,” his voice was soft, polite. He pushed down the sleeve of his canary uniform and rolled his shoulders. Nearby, the rest of the team was setting up camp for the night. They laughed and passed around a wineskin. There was a spot on the ground between two of your peers, saved for Mithrun. Milsiril was a distance away with her back pressed against the wall and her knees pulled up to her chest. She had a sewing needle that she meticulously threaded through the body of a ragdoll. 

You expected Mithrun to stand up and cross the room to join the others. Yet, he didn’t. He stared at you, two silver eyes filled with curiosity. You returned the look and raised a brow as if to silently ask what he needed. 

Finally, Mithrun offered a slightly bashful smile, “You don’t really socialize much, do you? Oh,” he perked up, eyes widening, “I don’t mean that in a bad way, of course. I mean, you’re shy, right? I just don’t know that much about you.”

And that drove him mad. 

You were entirely too aware of Mithrun’s true nature. The others were too busy basking in his light, caught up in his orbit, trapped in his web. Even Milsiril deigned to notice. She could’ve if she wanted, she simply didn’t want to— it would be like looking in the sun, and once you got past the blinding light and actually looked, you would already be burnt. 

You saw the looks on his face when nobody was looking. You didn’t mean to see them, you didn’t mean to stare, but it had become a habit to watch his reactions. There was a flicker of irritation in his eyes sometimes, the hint of a frown when someone didn’t play his game exactly how he planned. There were moments when his shoulders would tense and his smile would turn tight. There were moments he’d avoid answering questions about himself and turn the subject around on the inquirer to keep his history and feelings and thoughts hidden behind a very sturdy, well-guarded wall. 

You were more interested in him than you’d like to admit. You’d drawn several conclusions: Mithrun genuinely enjoyed the company of others, but he couldn’t help himself, he couldn’t help but scowl when they weren’t looking and judge their decisions and look down on everything they said and did. He even did it to you.

Which was precisely why you avoided him for the most part. You didn’t want him to know more about you, to provide more ammunition so he could reload his weapon and fire it straight into your back. 

So, all you had to say was, “Yeah, we don’t really talk much.” And you smiled as innocently as you could before standing up and wandering to a corner near Milsiril. 

Mithrun’s eyes lingered on your back. He was probably making that face he made when displeased that his charm didn’t work; analytical, a hint of darkness, one could practically see the red-inked assumptions scribbling onto parchment in his head, destined to be filed under a wildly critical and exaggerated category and kept there until the end of time. 

You only wished you understood why he was like that. 

Mithrun disappeared without warning. The squad had been dispatched to the Central Observation Tower because yet another person had disappeared in the area. Mithrun offered to take his friend’s scouting duty into a dark tunnel because she was afraid of spiders and was convinced that there were millions of them in that specific dark tunnel. Milsiril offered to send you along with him, but at that time you were trying to heal a sprained ankle of another squad member. Mithrun waved a dismissive hand and smiled, “It’s no problem. I’ll be fine on my own, but thanks!”

That was the last you saw of him. 

Milsiril had someone slumped on her arm. She held them up, breathing heavily and covered in dirt and blood and dirty blood. You rushed toward the scene. The person had silver hair caked with quickly drying streaks of red. His head lolled. But he was breathing. Thank goodness, he was breathing. 

Milsiril gently laid Mithrun on the ground. Immediately, you sat beside him, your hands on his cheeks and forcing open his eyes— eye. Singular. The right one was a mess. There was no time to question that, though. You summoned a light spell and opened his eyelid and black irises greeted you. Weren’t his eyes silver before? It was dim, too. Yet, his chest moved up and down and his heart was still beating. You let go of his face and he closed his eyes again, head lolling to the side as he let out a soft exhale. 

“So, this is where he’s been?” You asked Milsiril.

She nodded, “He became the dungeon lord. This place…” she glanced up at the twisted walls and long corridors that led to nowhere. There were monster corpses nearby. So many monsters, strong ones, weird ones with horrific teeth and eyes. “It’s a representation of him. I never knew…”

You knew, sort of. You just didn’t think it would get to this level. You didn’t think he’d fall to the demon. You didn’t think—

There was no time for thinking. You had to get started on healing him. For once, getting started wasn’t so hard, not when your heart raced, not when you were desperate for someone to live.

When Mithrun was conscious again, you offered your hand to help him stand. 

He didn’t take it. 

Of one thing you were certain: Mithrun of the house of Kerensil had no desire to live.

“You should’ve let me die.”

You perked up at the sound of his voice. It was the first time Mithrun had spoken in perhaps a month, and his vocal cords betrayed that fact. His voice was scratchy with disuse, and it was a struggle for him to speak. As you glanced over your shoulder to look at him, he didn’t bother meeting your eyes. His gaze was on the window near his bed, but he wasn’t looking at anything, not really.

“I should’ve let you die?” You echoed. You could hear the anger in your own voice. Mithrun didn’t care, you knew.

He simply nodded. A lock of silver fell over his bony shoulder. His collarbones were too pronounced. The sight made a fire start in your chest. 

“Mithrun?” You asked. 

He turned his head to look at you. One eye, as black as an endless pit, landed on your face. The other was covered by bandages. 

And he waited. He didn’t actually care about what you had to say, you knew. But you had to say it. 

“Don’t ever say those words to me again.”

Mithrun only stared, “Alright.”

Then he returned his attention to the window that he was not looking out of. 

You don’t know when or why you started to care so much. 

You’d always cared about people. You’d always wanted to help. But you didn’t even really like Mithrun before the dungeon incident. Now, his recovery was all you could focus on. And you were absolutely obsessed with the state of things. 

“I don’t know what to do,” his brother whispered, desperate, “I’ve hired so many caretakers but they just don’t do anything for him. I mean, they do things, but he’s not getting any better.”

Someone had to break the news to him. “I don’t think anything we do is going to make him any better.”

“I want him to be better,” his brother furrowed his brows and took a deep breath.

You wanted the same. But for now, all you could do was keep Mithrun alive. As long as he ate and slept and breathed, that was good enough for now. That was all he could manage. 

You visited the Kerensil family home more often these days. You weren’t sure why, but you cared. When he screamed at night and scratched himself to the point of bleeding, you healed him without a word. When he got ahold of a kitchen knife and put it to his throat, you wrestled it away from him, then helped his brother install locks on all the cabinets and drawers. When Mithrun snuck out at night to go slaughter every goat within a 50 mile radius, you cleaned the blood from his hair and hands. 

You’d basically moved in. The captain had given you permission to dedicate time to Mithrun’s healing, since they would’ve liked to have him join again once he was better. To the other Canaries, this was part of your sentence. To you, this was part of your purpose. 

You and Mithrun talked a lot. You talked the most. He stayed quiet, so you weren’t sure if you could consider it as actually holding a conversation. You weren’t sure if he was even listening. But once, when you were softly explaining the importance of getting rune shapes exactly right, you stopped and stared at your hands. You’d begun to enter dark territory, the study of black magic that had brought you to this place in life. 

The silence stretched on for a minute or two before Mithrun tilted his head. His hair was splayed out on his pillow and his good eye was open, blinking, slightly alert. 

“Continue,” he said. 

So you continued. And he stared at the ceiling. And you knew that he was listening. He didn’t care, of course, but he was listening. 

One night, Mithrun nearly hit a vital organ with a piece of glass from the bathroom mirror that he’d shattered. 

You healed it, the light from your hands growing brighter than usual. Your shoulders were tense and you couldn’t help but scowl and growl and mutter. 

Mithrun just looked at you, “You know this isn’t what I want.”

“I don’t care,” you answered immediately.

He grit his teeth, “I don’t want to live.”

“I want you to live!” You exploded. He flinched backward, but no emotion passed over his face. He simply stared. You gulped down your feelings and continued healing him. 

Maybe that was selfish of you. You didn’t care. 

Milsiril was a mother. Milsiril was a caretaker. Milsiril was a toymaker and she knew how to wind them up and set them on the path again. 

“I’m ready to go back into the dungeon,” Mithrun said. His voice was still scratchy, but he was sitting up on his bed for once. He’d gained a few pounds and his shoulders weren’t sharp as knives anymore.

Milsiril only shook her head, “Not yet, I’m sorry.”

Mithrun looked at you as if he expected you to ally with him. You knew him the best, you knew what he wanted in life. You even knew what his secret desire was, the one he couldn’t admit to himself. 

You shook your head as well, “You’re still underweight and you haven’t quite gotten the hang of taking care of yourself yet.”

Mithrun’s expression only darkened, “Then let’s keep practicing.”

Where Milsiril was more concerned with making Mithrun socially acceptable enough to rejoin society, you were much more concerned about his living conditions, health, and dignity. It was a relief that he’d stopped trying to pick the locks on the knife drawer. It was not a relief that Mithrun was planning for his inevitable death against the demon— not that he’d admit that. 

He wanted different things now. No longer was his goal to die from withering away, but rather to die at the hands of the god who once served him. Still, it involved him dying. There was this feeling you had inside, comparable to the feeling you had when you were first being hunted by the Canaries. You knew it was inevitable that they would find you and jail you or make you join them. Anticipation rose in your chest until it finally burst when they tied up your wrists and clipped your ears. 

Now, anticipation was rising again. It had been rising for the last twenty or so years that you’d spent at Mithrun’s side. You could only wonder when it would burst, and when you’d end up as scraps on the floor like the shreds of a popped balloon. You could only wonder. 

When Mithrun rejoined the Canaries, you went with him. He said nothing about that. You were the one who cut his hair shorter for functionality reasons. You were the one who delivered his new uniform and made sure it fit. You were the one who sat on his back as he did push ups for training— which was actually the most fun with him you’d had in the last twenty years. It was kind of silly, but it was good to see him willing to do things like exercise and challenge himself, even if his end goal was just to reach the demon. 

There was a lot of teasing involved when you two returned to the Canaries. 

“Are you in love with him or something?” Helki asked behind his hand. He cast a glance at Mithrun, who was sitting nearby and silently staring out the window. 

You made a face, “With Mithrun? No. I love him, but not like that.”

“Are you sure?” He snorted, “You’ve been like his little wife for the last few decades.”

“I don’t think I would consider all that as wife-like,” you retorted. 

“Why do you do it, then?”

Was it truly so impossible for someone to comprehend caring for another individual without expecting something in return? Or not having a motive? You supposed there was a motive, but it wasn’t romance. You just… cared. You wanted him to stay alive and get better. And he was relatively better, now. Relatively. 

You patted Helki’s shoulder, “Because he’s my friend. Nothing more.”

You didn’t notice, but Mithrun’s head tilted. He always listened to you, even when you didn’t think so.

“Can you help her?” Flamela jutted a thumb toward where you and Mithrun sat. Her voice, louder than everybody else’s in the Canary’s headquarters, caught your attention. Mithrun kept his arms crossed and his gaze on the recruits training outside.

Cithis blinked in surprise. Her eyes landed on you and you returned the look with a hesitant smile. 

“It’s a lot to explain,” Flamela continued, “but Captain Mithrun needs help and [name] needs a break.”

Your brows furrowed. You hadn’t expressed needing a break before. You were fine. You liked taking care of Mithrun. Yet before you could protest, Flamela was already walking away. And Cithis stood there with her hands folded and her eyes curious, analyzing. 

Dread settled into your chest.

“You’re not some helpless baby, Mithrun,” you didn’t mean to yell, nor pace, nor gesture so wildly with your hands, but you couldn’t help it. “You’re not a dog, not a slave, not someone who can be exploited for entertainment! You’re a person and you deserve respect!”

Mithrun only raised a brow, “So, you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you snapped, sounding quite mad at him. Yet you pulled yourself together and took a deep breath, “No, Mithrun, I’m not mad at you. It’s not your fault. I just wish people saw you as more than what you’re going through. You’re the damn Captain of the Canaries now, you’ve risen above some really tough shit and you’re capable and strong and—”

Lord. 

The realization hit you like a slap to the face. 

You froze, mouth hanging open, eyes on Mithrun. He only stared, as he tended to do, waiting for you to say something. But you couldn’t. You’d been slapped in the face by reality and now everything ached. 

“I’ve got to go,” you managed to squeak out before running toward the door. You left his bedroom behind and darted down the hallway of the Canaries Headquarters. You shared a room with a few other criminals, but they weren’t there when you burst inside and collapsed onto your bed. You were in your late 100’s yet there you were, screaming into your pillow like a 60 year old. 

You’re in love.

“I’m in love,” you said out loud, which you immediately regretted because that made things real. 

You’re in love. You’re in love. You’re in love and it hurts so much because Mithrun could never love you back. Were you a masochist? Probably. Your heart hurt. You suddenly understood the concept of heartbreak, it felt as if your heart was about to physically fall apart. Realizing that you’re in love should be a happy moment. It shouldn’t hurt so much. 

Alright, you decided. You’re going to ignore it like an adult. You’re going to take this secret to the grave. 

Captain Mithrun’s team was a mess. 

But they were fun. 

“Hey,” Lycion elbowed you one night at the dinner table. He leaned down to whisper while you were mid-bite of a piece of chicken. “Do you think the Captain would let me check out the fighting scene on that island? Like, we could put off the whole negotiations thing for a day so I can go see it?”

Mithrun personally wouldn’t care, you knew, but he would refuse Lycion’s request for the sake of getting into the dungeon faster. You swallowed your food and sent him a glance, “Why’re you asking me? Pattadol’s the one that does all the decision stuff with Mithru— the Captain.”

“But you know him best.”

True enough. Still, you were just the healer, still a criminal sentenced to another 40 or so years of Canary service. You sent Lycion an apologetic smile, “Sorry. I don’t think he would.”

“Can you ask him?” Lycion used that purring voice he always utilized on certain targets unwilling to obey. 

You remained unaffected, “I don’t see why you think me asking him would make a difference.”

“The Captain would do anything you asked!” He explained, “Within reason, of course. You’re his girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you forced the satisfaction down. “I’m not his girl. And he pretty much does whatever anyone tells him to do as long as it doesn’t interfere with his goals, so I’m not any different.”

“You’re blind,” Lycion muttered, “so blind.”

Mithrun had been pulled into the stupid pit thing or whatever with that stupid Kabru guy. You were going to pull your hair out. 

When he reunited with the Canaries, he actually looked rather well-taken care of. You begrudgingly admitted that Kabru may not be as stupid as you thought, but you couldn’t let go of your anger at the entire situation. You still wanted to pull your hair out, mostly because you were resisting the urge to wrap your arms around the Captain and squeeze until your bodies melted together. 

Mithrun noticed your stress and slowly approached you. He patted your head, “I’m fine,” he said. 

He could be shot in the chest and he’d still claim to be fine. 

“When this is all over,” you managed to say through the fog of anger and worry and adoration and fury, “we’re taking a holiday. We’ll go to the Eastern Archipelago and we’re sitting on the beach and we’re going to do very safe things like build sandcastles or take naps.”

Mithrun looked down at you. He stared, as was his tendency. Then he raised both brows and you thought that just for a second, there was a hint of a smile on his lips. An affectionate smile. Perhaps it was hopeful thinking, an illusion brought forth by stress. You weren’t sure. 

His hand that was on your head slowly ran down the side of your cheek and to your chin, lifting your face so you’d look at him. He didn’t hold you for long, though, letting his arm drop to his side when he had your attention. “When we have time, I will go where you go,” he said. 

You wanted to smack him in his stupid beautiful face for being so sweet. What was wrong with him? Was he in a good mood? You could only narrow your eyes in suspicion. 

Of course, Mithrun walked away after that, back to the mission at hand. Yet his words echoed. I will go where you go. 

That was more like something you would say to him. You’ve made the decision to be at his side for the last 40 years. You would follow him to the ends of the earth. 

Surely, he didn’t mean it. 

But then again, Mithrun wasn’t in the habit of lying unless it served his purpose. And he wouldn’t lie to you, of all people. Surely not. 

The demon was gone and Mithrun had lost his purpose in life. 

How scary, you thought. How terrifying to lose your one reason for living. You’d most likely be on the ground, slumped up against a tree and expecting to wither away just like him. But unlike you, Mithrun had people who cared for him, who wouldn’t accept that fate for him, who loved him. 

Senshi and Kabru said their pieces. The Canaries all agreed with a chorus of encouragement and opinions and friendship. 

You offered your hand, like you always did, like you’d been doing for the last four decades. 

He took it. 

Mithrun placed his hand in yours. And the anticipation bubble that had been building in your chest for so long finally popped. But you were okay. It was okay. He was okay. 

Mithrun pardoned you, surprisingly. You told him that wasn’t necessary and that he should use his pardon on someone else who had a longer sentence. There were only 40 years left for you. Surely they wouldn’t be as long as the last 40 years had been. 

“No, it's you I want,” Mithrun said rather casually, “you’re staying with me in Melini.”

He wanted something. He wanted you. 

You forced yourself to stay upright, “Alright. If you insist.”

Living with Mithrun in this state was very different. It was fun, heartbreaking, difficult, easy, calm, chaotic. Some days, he laid in bed and stared at the wall. Other days, he made noodles and walked through the forest and sat on the beach with you, doing very safe things like building sandcastles and taking naps. Many people in town assumed you two were married. You always corrected them, Mithrun never did. 

He observed monsters and would need healing sometimes. You would push up the sleeve of his tunic and trace your fingers along old scars, none of them perfect. Then, heal him, as you tend to do. 

“Are you sure you want this?” Mithrun asked one day. 

You looked up to meet his eyes. Ink black, your favorite color. “What?”

“You can spend your life any way you want now,” he explained, his voice flat, “you’re free. I’m not your burden anymore.”

Your heart clenched in your chest. “You have never been a burden to me.”

“I used to hate you for keeping me alive.”

“I know.”

“And you never hated me?”

“I sometimes did,” you admitted softly, fingers tracing over his skin. You recalled this certain scar, from a pair of scissors you wrestled out of his hands at two in the morning years ago. “But it was the kind of hate that only stems from love.”

“You have always treated me like a human,” Mithrun murmured. His free hand went to your chin and lifted your face, “Like someone that deserves to live. You loved me despite my inability to give you anything in return. But I’m able now,” he leaned closer, “so allow me this.”

Damn. That had to be the first time you’d ever heard Mithrun say anything like tha—

He was kissing you.

It took you a moment to realize what was happening. His lips were on yours and your heart felt as if it might explode. Your hands shook as you raised them, eventually finding their way to his hair. That felt right. This was right. He deepened the kiss, slowly pushing forward. It was slow and careful and calm. It held so many words that neither of you were able to say. As he gently ran his hand up your thigh and to your hips, you couldn’t help but shiver. 

40 years of longing accumulated into this moment. In a dark house in a new kingdom in a demon-free world, you started something new, and for once it wasn’t difficult at all. 

[suugarbabe]

Softer Side (pt.3)

[Final part 😘]

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warning: fighting, mentions of blood, fluff

sorry this did not end in smut, but this whole series has been about Mattheo's soft side so I felt it was only right it ended fluffy 😌

Your senses were enveloped with what you’ve become familiar with as Mattheo’s scent. The smell of lemons and patchouli with the ever familiar hint of tobacco was slowly becoming your favorite. His strong arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind as he placed a gentle kiss to your temple. You smiled at the tender gesture as he sat down at the table next to you. “Coming to study with me, Matty? Are you feeling ill?” You placed the back of your hand on his forehead in a teasing manner. 

He knocked your hand back playfully, “You should know me better than that, y/n/n. Studying on a Friday?” You snorted, “Studying at all…” Mattheo rolled his eyes, “Do you wanna know why I’m really here, Darling?” You nodded, leaning your head on your hand. “There’s going to be a party tonight, in the Slytherin common room.” When your face was unchanging Mattheo raised his eyebrows at you, “You’re coming, right?” You sighed, leaning back in your chair, “Dunno, might just keep studying.” 

He groaned like a child being told no sweets before dinner, “C’mon…please come. You never come to parties.” 

“How do you know I don’t go to parties?” 

“You’re not the only one who’s people watched this year,” his wink caused an immediate flush to your cheeks. “You can get ready with Pansy, then you can sit by us the whole time. It’ll be fun, we’ll drink, play games. Theo will ask you to smoke and you can deny him, it’ll be the best of times.” You gnawed on the inside of your cheek, contemplating your decision. The longer your thought the closer Mattheo was bringing his face. Closer and closer and closer until his nose was pressed against your cheek. He knew your answer before you could even say ‘yes’, knowing the grin on your face meant he won and you would be going. He stood triumphantly, letting out a slightly too loud cheer and being shushed by Madam Pince. He kissed your cheek, letting you know he’d see you at the party as he and the other boys ‘needed to finish some planning’.

You did your best to continue to study, even for a few hours. But your nerves about the party were too loud. You decided to find Pansy, seeing if she’d spend a little extra time helping you get ready as this was your first party in a long time. She was more than excited, practically destroying her dorm room with flying dresses, tops, and skirts. She finally landed on you wearing an emerald green pleated skirt, a little shorter than you normally wear; falling just above mid-thigh. Your top was a black crop top with two delicate strings criss-crossing around your abdomen and tying in the back. She had you accessorize with a dark green velvet choker and a gorgeous silver snake ring. Pansy argued that you should wear heels but thankfully she let you opt for shiny black doc martens. 

You looked yourself over again, doubt clouding your brain. Pansy encouraged you, telling you how good you looked and how much Mattheo would be drooling over you. You pushed your doubts aside, entering the party with Pansy hand in hand as she led you to the rest of the group. Mattheo greeted you with a kiss, whispering in your ear about how breathtaking he thought you looked in the Slytherin house colors. He brought you down to the couch with him, draping your legs over his lap. You all talk and joke together, playing some games and drinking. You needed a refill, so Pansy agreed to go with you, both of you agreeing to grab some drinks for some others. You were surprised how well the night was going. Until it wasn’t. 

“Can you believe who Mattheo’s been spending time with all night?” You stilled at the drink table, listening now to the conversation of the girls behind you. “Oh god, yes. Little mouse of a girl, that Ravenclaw. I mean, what does he think he’s going to accomplish?” You were seething now, Pansy noticing your change in demeanor. You made eye contact with her, her eyebrows raising as if to ask you what’s wrong. You opened your mouth to answer, but then you heard the girls voices again, mocking you and Mattheo, talking poorly about him and his intentions. You couldn’t take it. 

You turned around, grabbing the main girl's shoulder. “What the bloody hell is your problem? Have you ever even had one conversation with Mattheo or do you just pine for him from afar like a loser?”  You'd forgotten about the drinks, hands at your side clenching and unclenching. Pansy was behind you, arms crossed and smirking. The girl scoffed, “Do I have to? Everyone knows how he is.” 

“You have no idea how he is. You don’t know the first real thing about him,” you were doing your best to stay calm, but you could feel your anger rising. One more thing, just one more ignorant thing out of her mouth and you weren’t going to be able to control yourself. The smirk that formed on the girl’s face told you that she thought her next words were going to make her seem like she knew it all, “You think because he gave you a few hickey’s that it’s your job to defend him now? Do you even know the number of girls he’s done that to? You are not special to him. He’s a prick, always been a prick, always will be a prick. Honestly we’re doing you a favor leveling out your expectations right now.” 

And there it was, your boiling point. You turned your head slightly, speaking to Pansy now, “Do me a favor, Pans?” She nodded her head, confused by the smile forming on your face, “Go get Mattheo, maybe Theo too while you’re at it.” The girl across from you gave you a mocking pout, “What’s wrong? Need big bad Mattheo and friends to come defend you, feeling bad now?” You closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to contain your laughter. The girl clearly confused by your response. You took a deep breath, opening your eyes and making direct eye contact with her, “God no. Pansy’s gonna go get them for your sake. Because they’re going to be the only one’s strong enough to stop me from beating the shit out of you.” 

The girl opened her mouth to respond, but your fist was already connecting with her nose. She doubled over in pain, and you used this as an opportunity to throw her down to the ground. You pushed her back to the ground, kneeling over her chest as you took swings at her. You had to give her some props, she really did try to fight back for a moment, pulling at the strings of your top and trying to grab at your hair. You laughed slightly at her efforts, which probably made you look slightly more crazy than you already did to the crowd that was forming around the both of you. You got one more good swing in before you were being lifted into the air, the same familiar scent of lemon and patchouli filling your senses like this afternoon. 

The girl was lucky Mattheo was so strong, because you were thrashing against his grasp but he still held you like you weighed nothing. Your adrenaline and anger still high as ever, not wanting to be done with the fight, “Mattheo you let me down right now, she deserves it.” You felt him chuckle against your back, “No way, princess. Parties over for you. You keep thrashing around and you’ll make me have to use a binding spell on you.” You slumped immediately, making him laugh again. He carried you to his dorm, finally setting you down once you exited the hall. He led you to the bathroom, where he lifted you back up to have you sit on the large countertop, hands settling on either side of your thighs, “Now, you wanna tell me why I just witnessed my innocent little Ravenclaw in a fight that easily rivaled one I would get myself into?” 

You averted your gaze, looking down at your hands in your lap. Your bruised and bloodied hands. You wanted to feel awful, but her words played in your head again, “She was being a cunt.” You mumbled your response, causing Mattheo to tilt your chin up, forcing your eyes on his, “Come again, darling?” You sighed deeply, speaking more clearly this time, “She was being a cunt.” Mattheo was laughing again. You were glad he found this whole situation so amusing. “While I don’t doubt that, do you mind telling me exactly what happened to earn her the title?” He took one of your hands in his, grabbing his wand with the other. He started waving his want over your injured knuckles as you explained to him what happened. How you overheard them talking about you, and what they thought his intentions were. How you told them to shove off, then they told you that you were just another girl to him. Which, you clarified, was fine if it were true, but that he did not deserve to be talked about that way just because they were jealous of you being the current girl gaining his attention. 

Mattheo finished mending your hands, then did a quick once over of your face and neck to make sure you didn’t have any other injuries before he responded. “You know, usually I’m the one getting mended, kind of a nice change to be the one taking care of somebody.” You blushed as he continued, “You're not just some girl to me, y/n. Not just another name on some list I have in my nightstand. You're different. Special to me." You looked at him with wide eyes, not quite expecting those words to be told to you. He cupped your face, thumb rubbing your cheek gently before placing a kiss to the other side.

"You seem to have this habit of defending me, y/n. Why do you get so mad when someone talks bad about me, love? You know most of what they say is probably true.” You shook your head, “It’s not true. Not the Mattheo I know. Not my Mattheo.” He hummed at your words, “Mm, your Mattheo. I like the sound of that.” You giggled slightly, pushing his shoulder, “You know what I mean. Just- I see a different side of you.” He nodded, dimples on full display as he came to stand between your legs, “Yeah, you do. But there’s another side that I’ve just been dying to show you.” 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, looking up at him through your lashes, “Is that so? And what side would that be, sir?” That last word alone caused his irises to flash just a shade darker, pupils slowly growing, “Careful with your words, princess.” His hands gripping the underside of your thighs, your legs wrapping around his waist. You were feeling confident now, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “I’m always very careful…sir.” He lifted you up then, carrying you from the bathroom to his bed, making promises to show you a different side of him that he said was also just for you.