#but medicine always lingered in the past

[darylssunshine]

Surprise

Summary: Daryl found something for you on a supply run.

Genre: Fluff (suggestive at the end)

Era: Prison

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: @emo-daryl mentioned something about wanting a fic about Daryl with an emo gf, and it made me think of this :3 also I 100% abuse the nickname "sunshine"

Your ears perked up at the sound of Daryl's motorcycle coming down the dirt path and entering the gates of the prison. With a soft thunk, you put your knife that you were fidgeting with down on the nearby side table and practically skipped down the steps of your front porch towards the entrance of the group's shared domicile.

Daryl had always been the first person to volunteer to go on runs, whether it be for food, medicine, clothing, or some other necessity. It was most definitely because of his natural good-hearted nature, always ready and willing to help those around him. He would never say that, however. It would ruin his “big tough guy” persona that he had carefully curated during the past several months that your group had been together.

But that facade didn't work on you. You saw right through him.

You two had gotten together back at Hershel's farm, and had been inseparable ever since. It had started with lingering glances while sitting around the shared bonfire, roasting squirrels or whatever you had on hand. He had nonchalantly handed you a piece of the rodent that he was currently devouring, not even turning to you to look you in the eyes. You were taken aback by the gesture, especially since you had already had some of the now regarded delicacy earlier. You took the meat from him, breathing out a soft “Oh. Thanks.” He grunted in response, and that was that. This was now becoming a nightly occurrence, except his gaze would linger on you more and more until eventually you would start having laid back conversations by the fire. Those conversations would then turn into him coming into your cell later in the night, explaining the situation away by saying he wanted to continue a specific conversation that you two were having. Those nightly conversations in your cell shrouded in the darkness of the night sky then turned into confessions, then to silencing your whimpers as to not wake the rest of the group with your nefarious antics. It didn't completely work, though. The day after, Carol had approached Daryl with a smirk on her face. All she got in response was a mumbled “Shut up.” Before he ducked his head in embarrassment, hiding the red blossoming on his cheeks.

His motorcycle rumbled to a halt as he moved the kickstand out with his foot, carefully leaning it to the side and swinging his leg out to hop off. It was a motion that didn't even require a second thought, something that was natural to him. You thought that he was hot while riding his motorcycle. You hadn't told him such information, but he knew.

You were the first person he greeted when his feet hit the dirt path below him. Enthusiastically, you threw your arms around him, even though he had only been gone a day. “Hey, sunshine.” He spoke lovingly after pulling away from the hug, punctuating the greeting with a kiss on the nose.

He was tasked with finding more perishables, and it seemed like he had succeeded, with the sound of the contents of his bag clunking together. He lugged it off of the back of the motorcycle and handed it off to Rick for him to store in the kitchen, the latter giving Daryl a quick brotherly side hug as a thank you.

Daryl then walked back over to you, almost eagerly, you noticed. The look in his eyes was glowing and he had a slight smirk on his face. You liked what you saw.

“What's got you all peppy?” You prodded, gazing into the love of your life's eyes. You leaned back on the white wall of the house and crossed your arms, enjoying the light breeze. He stopped about a couple inches in front of you and started peppering your face in kisses. You erupted in a fit of giggles, not expecting that in the slightest. “Well, hi there.” You breathed, ducking your head and covering your mouth to hide your wide smile. Who knew the fiery hick that you met a couple months ago could grow into one of the most romantic men you've ever encountered. “Missed ya.” He said matter-of-factly, but still gazing into your eyes.

“And, found somethin’ for ya. Know you've been wantin’ it. Close yer eyes.” Your eyebrow raised in response and you stared at him for a couple moments, but you did as you were told and shut your eyes. Your smile widened a bit more as you felt Daryl's calloused hands take your right hand, kiss the top side, then turn your palm upwards. You then felt something be placed in the palm of your hand. Glass? You thought. You felt the warmth of Daryl's hands leave yours and he spoke again. “Open ‘em.”

When your eyelids opened back up, your eyes immediately landed on the unopened black nail polish in your hand. You lit up. “No way. No way! Oh my god! Where did you get this? Oh my god!” Your sentences were flowing out of your mouth at a rapid pace, and some of the other members of the prison even turned to look at you in confusion, but you didn't particularly care. Daryl's smirk got wider seeing your reaction to the polish. “You were complainin’ about not bein’ able to paint yer nails. Stopped by a drug store and that section wasn't raided.” He spoke proudly and full of love, now leaning his arm against the side of the house, looking down at your excited form. “Holy shit thank you, thank you, thank you!” You gripped the polish tightly in your fist as to not drop it and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, interlocking your fingers behind his neck. After almost tripping backwards from the force of your lunge, Daryl then placed his hands on your hips with a chuckle. It was your turn to return the kiss, and it was full of longing, even if it lasted for only a couple seconds. You pulled away and looked at him warmly, cupping his cheek with your hand. “Thank you. Truly. You really do listen.” You snickered. He responded with a raised eyebrow, moving his head down for emphasis. “Fuck yeah, I do. What kinda shitty husband would I be if I didn't?”

—

“I can't believe ya talked me into this.” Daryl huffed as he rested his chin on his palm, the other arm outstretched, his nails getting coated in a thin layer of black polish. “Dar, this is your own fault.” You teased, not looking up from your work, not wanting it to be too messy. “Besides, now we match!” He simply rolled his eyes in response, a small upward tick of a smile forming on his face. He admired your face while you were concentrated, your brows furrowed as you bit slightly at your bottom lip. Admittedly, he liked the feeling of being pampered and the coolness of the polish growing on his nails. It was relaxing, and he was about to start resting his eyes before he heard you speak again.

“Aaannnddd… done!” You twisted the brush wand back into its place and sat back on the kitchen chair to admire your work. An excited smile appeared again on your face as you wiggled your polished covered fingers near Daryl's. He lifted his hand in front of his eyes to examine them. “Y'know, this ain't look too bad.” He said, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Nice work, sunshine.”

In a boost of confidence, he then reached over to where you were sitting and held your chin with pointer finger and thumb, guiding your head to look up and lock eyes with him. Your breath hitched.

“You got some pretty little hands now. I got a few ideas on how ta use ‘em.”

Oh God. This is going to be a long night.

[soobnny]

one in the morning — kim seungmin. roommate au. fluff. a little slice of life.

roommate seungmin takes care of you when you catch a cold (1.0k words)

“(Name). Wake up.”

It’s quiet in your shared apartment, save for Seungmin’s harsh whispers jolting you from your trance of sleep.

There’s a trace of grogginess in his voice, like he’d forced himself awake, you’re not quite sure. It’s a little difficult to focus on anything when every surface of your skin feels like it’s burning.

“(Name).” He tries again, cold hand tapping against your arm. He’s gentle with his actions. He knows it wouldn’t take much to jolt you awake in your state.

“Seungmin?” You croak, voice congested as a result of your fever.

When you open your eyes, your roommate makes it look like he hadn’t been hovering over you and trying to shake you awake for the past few minutes. He just stands back, glass of water and your prescribed medicine in hand.

He looks exhausted, messy hair indicative of just having woken up and you don’t miss the yawn that leaves his lips when he turns away from you for a second.

The big white shirt he’s wearing is a little lopsided that it exposes a bit of his collarbones.

“The doctor said you need to take this every 8 hours, right?”

It’s a rhetorical question. You know he knows. He’d practically dragged you to get yourself checked after you’d failed to hide your fever from him.

“Yeah.” You move to sit up, the sound of rustling sheets lingering in the silence. A quick glance at the clock on your bedside table will tell you it’s close to one in the morning. It’s too early to have shaken your roommate away from his sleep. You feel sorry.

Seungmin hands you the medicine and glass of water in his hands. “Here, drink this.”

You take the medicine from his hand, placing it on your tongue and chugging it down with water almost immediately, like you’ve been told. You would hate for the metallic taste of the drug to linger on your tongue lest you want to start vomiting.

Your roommate only takes the glass back after you've drank every last drop, feverishly placing it on your bedside table so he doesn’t make a mistake of dropping it.

“Just gonna check your temperature now, okay? Then you can go back to sleep.” His hand falls over your forehead, an evident frown tugging at his lips before shoving his hand down the pocket of his sweatpants to grab the thermometer he’d brought with him.

“Okay.” You yawn, rubbing your eyes.

“It might feel a little uncomfortable.” He uncaps the cover off of the thermometer before gently tapping at your chin, as if telling you to open your mouth so he can slip the thermometer tip under your tongue.

When he slips it in, the first thing you discern is how cold the metal feels in your mouth. The next is how warm his hand feels gently moving strands of your hair away from your face before falling limp by his side.

The device is uncomfortable, but you don’t want to bother Seungmin any more than you already have.

“You can close your mouth now, then we’ll just wait for it to beep.”

Seungmin does nothing for the 30 seconds it takes the thermometer to check your temperature, simply sits on the edge of your bed patiently. The way he attempts to keep his eyes open is almost endearing.

He must’ve had a long day today.

The thought makes your face twitch. Your roommate isn’t usually like this, always passive in the things you do, but there’s something about the way he’s taking care of you right now that suddenly makes you aware of how considerate he is about things you usually overlook.

Thinking about it makes your face hot, so you stop. You wouldn’t want to fool the small device in your mouth.

When the thermometer beeps, Seungmin takes it from your mouth gently, staring down at the little screen before sighing a little in relief. “A little better than your temperature this morning. How do you feel, though?”

“I can’t really tell.” You feel ridiculous for it. The least you can offer him is a little reassurance that his efforts at waking you up to take your medicine are slowly adding up to your betterment, but you genuinely cannot tell if you feel better or not.

“That’s alright. We’ll check again in the morning. You can go back to sleep now.”

Your mind is slow to process your roommate tucking you back in. It doesn’t see him taking the empty glass on your table and shuffling to leave the room. It can only hear the quiet patter of his feet and the heavy inhale and exhale of exhaustion from the boy.

You’re halfway back to surrendering yourself to sleep when you call his name. “Seungmin?”

He’s just about outside your door when he turns back and lets his eyes gaze over to you. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you that you can’t quite put a word to. It’s different to how he looks when it’s morning and you’re more aware.

“I’m really sorry for bothering you.” You think the guilt will swallow you whole if you keep letting it brew in your sternum, so you tell him. The words sound congested when they leave your mouth, but you hope he understood every single word.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

You could never be a bother sits on his tongue.

“Go back to sleep. I don’t have plans tomorrow so I’ll be here to take care of you.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking at you one final time before shutting the door closed behind him. He doesn’t give you a chance to protest.

A little digging will tell you he does have plans for tomorrow, and if you asked Jeongin he’d probably rat out his best friend and tell you how he’d asked to raincheck so he could stay and take care of you.

(“Jeongin, I can’t come tomorrow. Can we move it to Sunday?”

“Why?” He whines.

“...(Name) is sick.”

“Oh my god, you are hopeless. Dude, just tell her how you feel, it’s not that hard.”

“Goodbye.”

“Wait, tell her get well so—”)

Maybe if you were more awake, you would’ve noticed the little ways in which he cares for you. Maybe if your mind was a little sharper in processing things, you would’ve heard him saying he’d do anything for you, even if it was to sacrifice the sleep he values. Instead, you close your tired eyes and fall back to unconsciousness.

In the morning, you’ll be greeted by a hot bowl of soup and the company of a roommate who bears more feelings for you than you originally thought.

[mylove-iv]

⠀𐔌 . ⋮ red tiger balm .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

ʚ narumi gen x fem, physical therapist! reader ɞ

synopsis: during a joint training conference between the first and third divisions, many notice how captain narumi gen seems to have fallen head over heels for you but what they don't catch is that you both smell like spiced mint, cinnamon, and clove.

genres: fluff, romance.

content warnings: profane language (it's gen duh).

word count: 1.1k words.

author's note: inspired by my love for the warm scent of red tiger balm and how much i love narumi gen ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

‎‧₊ ─ masterlist .ᐟ ༘

Narumi Gen smells of spiced mint, cinnamon, and clove.

It’s a subtle warm medicinal smell that clears one’s nose when Narumi walks past or when one stands near him.

Some days, it’s faint and nearly indistinguishable but whenever Tuesday rolls around and their Captain returns from his off-base day off, the same spicy camphor scent never fails to make a full return subtly with its strong aroma sticking closely to Japan’s Strongest Anti-Kaiju Combatant.

It’s become a running gag within the first division that Narumi’s part-time job during the colder seasons where runny and stuffy noses are at an all time high is being everyone’s Vick’s vapor rub.

But one winter’s Monday morning, kaiju alarms ring throughout Tokyo and many bear witness to the palpable irritation on Narumi Gen’s face as he arrives on base.

Amid the smoke and ash lingering through the air, those working directly with the Captain note the unusual absence of the scent of spiced mint, cinnamon, and clove that Narumi normally smells of. 

Another thing many officers of the First Division also notice is that along with the aroma’s absence is that it goes hand in hand with Narumi’s intensified impatience and snark as he barked harsh order after harsh order.

Many are unsure on which cologne, balm, or hell, even perfume the First Division’s Captain uses to attain such a fresh and warm scent yet none dare ask their quick-tempered Captain.

┊ ੈ✩‧₊*°࿐ྂ。

When the joint training conference between the First and Third Division rolls around at the Tachikawa base, it doesn’t take long for platoon leaders and a few officers of the First Division to catch onto how their Captain’s soft currant red eyes seems to latch onto you, the Third Division’s resident physical therapist.

Members of both divisions soon bear witness to how Narumi’s gaze always seems to be searching for you and how they soften whenever you enter the same room he was in. 

They also don’t miss how he always seems to be at a loss of words whenever you speak to him, a gentle yet sweet smile on your face as you ask him if his shoulder is still tight and how much adoration fills his usually tired eyes whenever he's in your presence.

It then clicks to many that Narumi Gen, Captain of the first Division and Japan’s strongest Anti-Kaiju Combatant, has a big fat crush on the Third Division’s physical therapist.

┊ ੈ✩‧₊*°࿐ྂ。

With Narumi’s constant visits to you under the guise of tight muscles and achy limbs, it’s become routine for Hoshina to tease him relentlessly.

You’ve just finished sanitizing your therapy table when a soft knock rasps itself against the wood of your office door.

Humming a sweet ‘come in,’ your irises meet soft currant red ones and a honeyed smile is tugging at your lips when you see Captain Narumi in your doorway.

“Captain Narumi,” Your voice is a bit breathy due to your fumble of pausing at the sight of him but he’s entranced nonetheless. “How can I help you?”

It takes him an embarrassing moment to formulate a response to your question but he quickly rasps out, “My wrist is actin’ up again.”

Worry floods your eyes and Narumi savors how your eyes trail from his own down his body and to his right wrist.

It’s greedy of him to watch eagerly how your teeth sinks into your bottom lip in concern but a pang of disappointment tinges his chest as your eyes move off his body and to his left.

He follows your gaze silently and Narumi doesn’t bother hiding the pure indignation on his face when his eyes meet deep wine red ones.

Are you fucking kidding me?

“Narumi, what can I do for ya?” Hoshina’s grin widens as Narumi’s eyes stretches open when that bowl-cut jerk sits himself in front of you—infuriatingly close—on the therapy table.

Your eyes look apologetic enough to soothe the jealousy raging in Narumi, “I’m sorry Captain Narumi but Vice-Captain Hoshina has an appointment with me currently.”

Hoshina 1, Narumi 0.

He feels like a kicked puppy. “But please wait, I’ll take you in after treating Vice Captain Hoshina.” You words have him perking up, a small lovesick grin tugging at his face before he’s padding out your door, not before sparing a withering glare towards Hoshina whose grin becomes a bit more teasing.

┊ ੈ✩‧₊*°࿐ྂ。

After a bit of waiting, your head pops out from your office and Narumi’s chest tightens when you smile oh so sweetly. “Sorry for the wait Cap, but come on in.”

He’s aching to be near you so when you disappear further into your office and Hoshina walks past him, the smell of mint and menthol wafts in his nose.

Narumi’s nose wrinkles at the scent, huffing in distaste causing Hoshina to snicker slightly before the former is shutting the door and seating himself onto your therapy table, thighs spreading slightly as you set yourself between them. 

“It’s your shoulder again, hm?” You murmur softly, fingers tweaking the muscle beneath his clavicle, feeling how tight they were before moving a bit further up, causing Narumi to wince gently.

“Mh.” Narumi hums as his eyes flutter to a close, basking in your warmth as he enjoys the the smell of spiced mint, cinnamon, and clove permeating through your office space.

┊ ੈ✩‧₊*°࿐ྂ。

The week-long joint training conference draws to a close and many, especially those of the First Division, have gotten sick and tired of the longing glances their Captain continuously throws at you.

He hasn’t even made a move on you yet for fuck’s sake! Many groan in their heads as both division Captains and Vice Captains salute to each other as a thanks.

You stand beside your division Captain, Ashiro Mina, with a gentle smile on your face and many hold their breath when Narumi takes a step towards you.

Please make a move! Officers of both divisions pray before they watch with a bated breath when Narumi takes your hand sweetly, placing a gentle kiss atop your knuckles as your cheeks tint pink.

Jaws then drop as Narumi’s other hand trails along your jaw before taking your chin and pulling you in for a sweet kiss.

It’s takes way too long before someone reacts. “Narumi, get yer damn lips off my pt!” Hoshina hollers, disbelief lining his features as his eyes are wide open in shock.

“What?” The mentioned captain grunts, eyes glaring at the said man as his next words leaves everyone speechless.

Cause who would've thought that Narumi Gen has the balls to-

“Is it so wrong to kiss my wife?” Narumi snarks causing an uproar between both divisions as you laugh sweetly, forcing his eyes to latch onto your pretty face as enamored expression settles itself on his face when you look up at him so lovingly.

Fuck, my wife is so pretty! Narumi finds himself thinking like the lovesick fool he is for you.

© 2024 𝐌𝐘𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆-𝐈𝐕. do not copy, repost, share, or translate any of my works to tiktok, instagram, and/or any other websites/platforms.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Jess Mariano taking care of sick reader? They're not together yet so she's confused because wtf why is he taking care of me? But he shows up at her house with food, medicine, blankets, etc. and just kinda lets himself in when she answers the door.

Inspired by the episode where he brings Rory food when she's home alone and also by the fact that I stayed home from school sick today 😔

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Jess was the person you least expected to take care of you when you were sick.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Jess Mariano x sick!Reader

You groaned as you shuffled your way to the door, wrapped in a blanket and feeling like absolute death. Your head pounded, throat raw, and the world seemed a little fuzzier than usual. You were barely functioning when a knock echoed through your small apartment, a sound that made you groan louder.

You weren’t expecting anyone—definitely didn’t want anyone to see you like this—so you contemplated ignoring it. But the knocking persisted.

With a resigned sigh, you unlocked the door and cracked it open just enough to peek out. Your eyes widened when you saw none other than Jess Mariano standing on your doorstep. He was holding a bag of takeout in one hand, a plastic bag full of what looked like medicine in the other, and a blanket slung over his shoulder. His usual expression was one of bored disinterest, but you could see the subtle flicker of concern in his eyes.

“Jess?” You rasped, blinking at him in confusion. “What are you—”

He didn’t wait for you to finish. Before you could protest or even think, Jess slipped past you, letting himself into your apartment like he owned the place. “You look like death,” he said, shutting the door behind him, his tone casual but with a hint of something softer underneath.

“Thanks?” you muttered, feeling both bewildered and slightly offended, though you couldn’t deny he was right. “What are you doing here?”

Jess placed the bags on your kitchen counter, glancing at you over his shoulder. “I heard you were sick.”

“I—how?” You leaned against the doorframe for support, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that Jess Mariano was in your apartment. With food. And medicine. “Who told you?”

“Luke mentioned it.” He shrugged, as if this wasn’t a big deal. “Figured you could use some help.”

“I—” You trailed off, completely unsure how to respond to that. Jess? Showing up at your place to help? It felt like you’d entered some kind of fever dream.

“Sit down,” Jess ordered gently, his hands now occupied with unpacking the takeout containers and organizing the medicine on your counter like he’d done this a hundred times before. “You’re supposed to be resting, not playing twenty questions.”

Your brain was struggling to keep up with what was happening. “I… you didn’t have to come. I’m fine.”

Jess shot you a look, raising an eyebrow. “You look fine,” he said sarcastically, but his eyes lingered on you a second too long, and you caught that worried edge again. “Sit. Seriously.”

You shuffled over to your couch, plopping down with a huff. You watched as Jess moved around your kitchen like it was nothing, grabbing a spoon for the soup, pouring a glass of water, even pulling out a bottle of cough syrup.

“Are you always this bossy?” you muttered, half-annoyed, half-touched by how much he was doing.

“Only with people who don’t take care of themselves.” He smirked, bringing over a steaming container of soup. “Here. Eat.”

You blinked up at him, still not fully comprehending why he was doing this. “Why are you—why do you care?” The words tumbled out before you could stop them.

Jess didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he sat beside you on the couch, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him, but still leaving enough space to keep things from getting awkward. He glanced at you, his expression softer than you were used to. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t pass out alone in here.”

His tone was teasing, but you could hear the concern laced in his words, and that only made you more confused—and flustered. Why did he care? You weren’t… you weren’t anything. Not yet, anyway.

“You’re acting weird,” you mumbled, taking a hesitant sip of the soup. “This is… nice. You’re not usually nice.”

Jess chuckled under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t get used to it.”

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, the only sound being the clink of the spoon against the container as you ate. Jess glanced around your apartment, making small talk here and there, but you couldn’t help but notice how he kept sneaking glances at you, like he was checking to make sure you were okay.

After a while, you broke the silence, your voice soft. “Thanks. For, you know, all this.”

Jess shrugged again, but there was something different in the way he did it this time. “Don’t mention it.”

You stared at him for a beat longer than necessary, your heart doing something weird in your chest. He wasn’t the type to fuss, wasn’t the type to show up with soup and medicine for anyone—least of all you. But here he was, doing exactly that.

“You’re really weird, you know that?” you said, trying to break the tension, but your voice came out more affectionate than you intended.

Jess gave you a crooked smile, his eyes twinkling. “Takes one to know one.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips was impossible to suppress. Maybe this fever was making you delirious, but suddenly, you didn’t mind Jess being here. In fact, you kind of liked it.

Who knew Jess Mariano could be so… sweet?

[genderless-naper]

candle shopping pt.2

trafalgar law x strawhat!reader

warnings: wax play, slight voyeurism

nsfw smut, wc: 3k, lowercase intended!

law tried his best to stay away from you after what happened, but what was he to do when you walked in on him moaning your name

you can find pt1 here!

your last encounter with law was certainly the least of your expectations. you two avoided each other like the plague since then. maybe law avoided you because of the sheer embarrassment of what had happened. he would never forget what happened while hiding under the blanket with you, and he knew you wouldn’t forget either. still he likes to light his candle up during his times in which he isolates himself from the crew. the smell teleporting him to his memories with you.

sometimes the scent is strong enough to smell just by passing by in the hallway. the earthy forest scent with hints of fresh water would have you stopping in your tracks. blood rushing to your face just from thinking about it. from thinking about him.

law knew there was no point in giving anymore thought to what happened. the past is the past, right? if anything he figured he ruined any ounce of friendliness he established with you.

so then why did he find himself rock hard sitting on his chair whenever he lit the candle up? the sounds of your moans echoing in his ear. he can hardly resist ghosting his hand along his hard member.

he sits back with legs wide open while letting the smell of the candle intoxicate him. he massages the bulge on his pants while imaging the lewd faces you would make because of him. he wanted to feel you under him. under his control.

he kept his eyes shut to continue to fantasize about you as he unzipped his jeans. he snaked them down to reveal his member without restraints. oh how perfect you looked in his mind. it was no wonder he was as hard as the day he was stuck in bed with you.

he continued his usual routine. imaging you in his mind as he pleased himself absolutely desperate to re-experience what he did that day. hoping the candle smell could help him achieve time travel. it was the usual routine. he did everything like he always did. everything was how it was supposed to be except for one factor.

law didn’t factor in how he left the door unlocked. he always did, and never once was interrupted. he never gave it a second thought. he never would expect for you to walk in on him.

you didn’t plan on looking for law at that moment. you tried to avoid him as much as possible. every time you locked eyes you could see what had happened dance on his eyes. avoiding was the best to keep the blood rising to your face and the wetness out your panties. the last thing you wanted was to be near him. instead you helped crew mates in your free time. the only reason you were sentenced to the library, where law camped at, was because chopper needed a specific book of herbal medicine.

you stopped right before the door. the smell of the candle lingered out into the hallway. you felt slightly better knowing law still used it, and the candle didn’t end up being a waste. placing your hand in the knob you open it quietly without knocking. you expected law to be hunched over with books and coffee cups all around him. so you would avoid him like the plague.

what you didn’t expect to see was him violently stroking his hard-on while sprawled back on his chair. sweat covered his tattoo figure as he tries to reach the high he once experienced with you, but ultimately failing every time. his arm covered his eyes while he let quiet moans escape his lips. completely unaware of your presence he fastened his pace. he moaned out your name repetitively, “just like that y/n-ah… keeping going just like that.. fuck you feel so good..”

you watched the man in front of you unravel with thoughts of you assisting him reach his high. you closed the door behind you, and this time it was loud enough to draw the attention of the tattooed man sitting in front of you. he immediately stopped and snapped his head to your direction. seeing you standing by the door made him lose all thought as he slowed down his pace on his member. slowly coming to a stop as he held it up. still painfully hard and swollen at the tip.

he looked at your nervously afraid of what you would think of him now. it was already bad that you avoided him, but seeing him in such a state? he used you to fulfill his own desperate desires, and this time he got caught in the act. he would understand if you slapped him then and there.

he cleared his throat and quickly pull his pants back over his budge while desperately trying to pull the zipper up. he wasn’t sure how much of him you just saw. he glanced at you only to realized you were walking. walking right towards him.

he prepared himself for a blow to the face. he cursed himself mentally for being so negligent of the goddamn door. he didn’t dare look up at you when you stood right in front of him. he simply prepared himself for the worst.

you stood in front of the man sitting with his head low. you couldn’t help but notice his legs still spread with his hard-on pressing against his pants. you bit your lip as the heat between your legs starts to rise.

you cup law’s cheek to bring his face up to look at you. he stared at you taking in every one of your features. he wanted you then and there. he wanted to lock you away so he would be the only one to see that perfect face of yours. these thoughts only made his current sexual state more painful. he winces as you ran your thumb along his cheek. skin-to-skin contact making his bulge more painful.

you lean down to his level and whispered in the most gentle voice to be heard by his ears, “does it hurt law..? i bet it’s really painful baby.” he stared in disbelief not knowing what exactly to say as a response. his stomach did back flips when you eyes him between his legs. you slowly got on your knees to be face to face with whats causing the tattooed man his pain.

you look up at him as you ran a finger up and down his clothed shaft, “is this causing you pain..? were you thinking about me to help you feel better? hm?”

you knew your words were having an effect on him. he bit his lip and tried to compose himself not wanting to look weak in front of you. how could he admit he was all worked up and on the brink of an orgasm yet having to hold himself back because of you?

you lick your lips and stared the man between the legs. the smell of the candle fills your mind with lewd thoughts of your first encounter. you ran your hand and massaged the inside of his thigh. dangerously close to the energy point. you wanted him to feel good, but not yet.

your touches made the man throw his head back as he gripped the sides of the chair. he wanted you to do miracles on his cock. he didn’t notice you voluntarily pulling down his pants to expose his hard-on once again. he looked at you shocked only to see your hungry eyes which eyed him at his bulge. you licked your lips and mumbled quietly, “i want to help you feel good law..” you smirked up to him. you rubbed your thighs together barely able to suppress your moans, “i wanna make you feel good like before, please let me help you” you took his member in your hand and stroked it slowly. law bites his lip as he leans back more in his chair to expose himself to you, “fuck y/n, you always make me feel good even when you aren’t trying..”

you giggled when he admits the power you had over him. you filled his mind every passing minute of the day whether he liked it or not.

you pulled yourself away from the man under your control. his expression a mix of confusion and pain. you lay back to your elbows on the floor in front of him as you slowly run a hand in between your thighs. you bite your lip while holding eye contact with the man above you. you wanted to put on a show for him; something he’d never forget like before. you press your fingers onto your clothed core and let a slight gasp escape your lips. you stare up at his eyes which took every inch of you into detail. you went to unbutton your pants before stopping yourself. you looked up to him and asked him, “can i take these off?”

laws eyes widen slightly. the thought of you asking him if you could please yourself drove him over the edge. he nods slightly as he uses his foot to push one of your legs wide apart. he stared at you like you previously stared at him, “i wanna see you with your fingers in yourself y/n”

feeling your heat increase you wasted no time following his orders. you threw your pants off until you were left with your panties. they already had a wet imprint which hugged against your folds and carved them out persicely. you look back up for permission which you’re then met with a nod from the man. you pulled your wet panties off; shivering from the cold air hitting your drenched folds. law reached his hand out for the panties. you handed them to him obediently imagining all the things he would do with them when he would be alone.

you licked your finger and gently circle it around your clit. you were slow and careful just wanting to take in the feeling. you hear the man above you growl slightly, “i said i wanna see you fuck yourself, not play games with your goddamn self” law had already had his hand holding his shaft. he wanted to hear you moaning out for him. he knew you wanted to be his entertainment.

you inserted a digit into yourself. gasping as you adjusted to your own finger. the man in front of you start to stroke his member with every movement you made with your finger. his hand was slow since he was more focus on what you were yet to show him. he stared hungrily as you inserted another finger. you felt the knot in your stomach form as you moved your fingers in and out your wet walls. you moaned out starting to forget of the man in front of you, “it feels s-so good! i need to go faster…” law watched as you threw your head back while letting filthy moans leave your perfect lips. you uncreased your rhythm and curled your fingers so you could chase your high. you weren’t that experience with pleasing yourself, and it was obvious to him when you started to whine and get frustrated while chasing your high.

law wanted you to feel as good as you looked, so he ordered you to stop. you looked up at him confused. did you mess something up? law stood up and leaned down and pick you up. he gently placed you on the table in front of him while wrapping your legs around his waist.

he looked at the lit candle placed at the corner of the table. he reaches for it as he pushed your shirt off you. you lay in front of him with nothing but your bra on. he looked down proudly once again having you laid beautifully naked in front of him.

you eyed the candle confused at what the tattooed man was doing with it. he notices your attention on it and smirks, “we should use it y/n.”

you raised your brown, “u-use it? but it’s a candle?

law smirks as he plays with the hem of your bra, “its a lit candle. it would be perfect for this..”

law holds the candle right above your clothed chest and tilts it ever so slightly. he watches as one drop of hot wax hits your soft skin. you wince at the sudden hot liquid on your bare skin, and feel it solidify slowly.

you see his hungrily stare at you as he continues to drip small amounts of the melted wax on your skin. every drop stung you, but it made your stomach do flips. soon your closed chest and stomach were filled with drips of the wax. law stares hungrily at your bra eyeing for you to take it off. you obeyed his hungry gaze and exposed your hidden breasts. the cold air made your nipples harden. he groped one breast and ran his thumb around and over the sensitive bud. you arched your back to him instinctively. law moved his finger away and dripped the hot wax around your bud. he watched as the liquid hardens and take the shape of your hardened nipple. he smirked as you wince under him. every whimper that escaped you would make the man to roll his hips against yours. seeing you subject to his control using the item you gave him made him feel superior. he wasted no time coating your other precious bud in the hot liquid. you moaned out loud due to the heightened sensitivity of the location. once satisfied with coating your figure with the melted substance he places it back to its original location.

law leans back down as he kisses your ear before speaking into it, “ill take care of it from here y/n-ah. it’s you return to sit back and relax.” law ran his manhood along your saturated folds. he rubbed your juices down his shaft so he could easily slip into you. you stared up at him as towered over you while adjusting himself for your entrance. he returned your gaze with compassionate eyes, “do you want me to keep going y/n?”

he was still unsure exactly how you felt.

you nodded and have him the green light. you braced yourself as he slowly pushed himself into you. you engulfed him with no problem just like before. the memories from your first time flooding both your minds. you felt insane to have waited so long to feel like this again when the man was on the same ship as you the whole time. you wince and grab his arm once he pushes the last bit of his manhood in.

law takes a second before he moves. he waits for you to adjust and give him the signal to go. you bite your lip and talk quietly, “it hurts more than last time law..”

a flash of sympathy passes over his eyes. law holds your hand and leans back to your ear, “ill be sure to take it at a good place. i don’t wanna end up hurting my y/n.”

you blush at his assertiveness. he lets you hug his neck as he slowly pulls back to push back in. he makes sure to listen to every noise that escapes you. enjoying every second to its smallest details. the way you hug his neck longing for him. you missed his touch, his scent, and the way he fit perfectly in you. law holds one of your legs up as he picks up the pace wanting to reach into you deeper. the access that came from moving one leg helped law push himself deeper into you. your tight warm walls stretched just for his hard member. the wetness creating lewd sounds that filled the roam in combination with both your moans and pants.

he grunts in your ear as he speaks with a but more stern tone, “can i go faster y/n?”

you whimper under him as you take his member and his pace. you nod desperately as you shut your eyes to feel every inch of his manhood filling you and leaving you empty. you moan out to him and his movements fasten. you feel your core tightening alongside your walls unable to escape his thrusts into you. you moan non-cohesive sentences. law knew you were climbing your high fast. he saw it once before, so he knew what to expect. he pace moved faster as he imagined the last orgasm he shared with you. he thought about the endless amount of times he tried to satisfy himself after that and how none of his attempts came close to feeling like that again. he was going to experience that feeling again. it was going to be with none other than you.

the desk starts to shake as he picks up an aggressive pace. you hold onto him tightly for support afraid you might slip away from him if you let go. although you held onto him you needed more support. law could sense that when you looked at him with those glossed eyes. he connected his lips with yours and kissed you gently while maintaining his pace. he wanted you to know he was there, and he saw you. you moan desperately into the kiss and hug his body closer to you. both your highs approaching dangerously fast. you pull away from the kiss once you feel your knot release and orgasm hit you live a tidal wave. you felt the man above you accidentally empty himself into you as he moans into your ear. law the. sighs tiredly, “shit, i didn’t pull out y/n..”

you keep him close to you as you respond in a muffled voice, “i don’t care about that right now law. it feels so good anyways”

law chuckles at your response as he eases into you clearly exhausted from his own orgasm. this was the second time you both experienced each other in such close proximity.

something told him it wouldn’t be the last time as long as he had his candle lit.

[jenctrl]

my little scrump*ೃ༄

"despite being across the world and miles apart, the canine is always there for her feline, especially when she's sick and grumpy, truly acting like her little scrump."

warning; from the blackcat!Y/n series, the parts don't need to be read in order!

“Stop being stubborn and lay down in bed,” Chaewon argued, making a meek attempt at trying to pull Y/n off of the stool the girl was sitting on. However, the feline’s arm slipped right past her grip and all she got was a grunt of disapproval. 

Y/n wasn’t talking to Chaewon.

The older couldn’t figure out if it was because she was still sick with the flu or if it was because she got the flu from Chaewon. Could it be because they were missing their group schedule in America? Or because something or someone wasn’t here. Y/n had always been impossible to read, well, not to one person. 

She had become aware that Y/n turned whiny and reasoned like a five-year-old when she was sick though. 

Chaewon had a toddler on her hands. 

She squinted her eyes, leaning her weight onto Y/n’s desk as she wasn’t sitting far from it. The feline was focused on the canvas in front of her that was on its stand. There was a faint, barely there, scent of oil paint lingering in the girl’s room. 

Chaewon had spent her whole flu in bed and gotten better quickly with a few symptoms lingering. She wasn’t sure how Y/n was able to even sit up on the stool without toppling over, however she could see the small shivers run along her body. The feline was sitting with her knees hugged to her chest, in sweats and a t-shirt. 

Her stubbornness was driving Chaewon crazy; Y/n was refusing to take medicine, she didn’t want to rest and simply wasn’t doing anything she should be doing, but rather the opposite. The leader scratched at the side of her neck while staring intensely at the girl who was clearing her throat and sniffling. 

She pushed herself up and made it over to the girl’s bed to get her phone; there was one person who knew how to handle Y/n.

Y/n blinked her sore eyes as her night had been uncomfortable and she could feel herself slipping to sleep. The past few days she had felt empty as she had been isolated and she wouldn’t have minded. She had always enjoyed being alone, but it was different now that a sun had appeared in her small empty world and suddenly it was dramatically yanked away and thrown across the world. 

It wasn’t as dramatic, but it could as well be.

She tilted her head, ignoring Chaewon who walked out of the room, assuming that the older girl gave up on trying to make her get better. Her eyes scanned the painting which grew duller the longer she looked at it. It felt like grey clouds were covering the whole sky and she shivered at the cold that ran over her sore muscles. 

It was clear that something was lacking and nothing ever lacked in Y/n’s life; that’s what she told herself at least. She would hate to admit that she needed someone else but herself. 

“This one is gonna be huge on her.” Chaewon widened her eyes at the hoodie she pulled out, thinking about Y/n’s tall yet petite frame. She still threw the hoodie over her shoulder, the feline rarely wore hoodies and a cardigan or sweater didn’t seem like a cosy enough option in the latter’s opinion. 

“The bigger the hoodie the better,” Yunjin commented as she watched Chaewon stand back up after rummaging through her wardrobe for the specific black hoodie she knew Y/n liked. It was Yunjin’s favourite too, but she left it behind for the feline.

Chaewon did not have the patience nor knowledge to take care of the younger girl and so her last resort was the girl across the world. It was early morning on the other end and midnight was approaching in Seoul and the leader hadn’t succeeded with anything the whole day.

Now that Yunjin was awake she could help. 

“She’s literally about to turn 20, I feel like I’m taking care of a toddler.” She still complained as Y/n’s demeanour did a whole 180 the second she got sick. It was unlike the girl and it left her worried, but also in shambles as she had tried everything. 

“Do you want my help or not?” She questioned, however, Yunjin wouldn’t hang up until she knew that Y/n was all fine and asleep. It was already hard enough for the canine to fall asleep and then sleep through the whole night knowing that Y/n was sick on the other end of the world and suffering through her day without Yunjin being there to take care of her like she always did. 

“What’s with all this casual talk to me?”

“My bad bro.” 

“Okay well, that didn’t make it better–” Chaewon pointed out with a frown, seeing that America was already back in Yunjin’s system. She sighed, “What more?”

“The Scrump plush, she forgot it on my bed.” She sang out, resting her chin in her palm as she patiently, more so impatiently, waited for Chaewon to get the stuff and hand the phone over to Y/n. She wanted to talk with her and make sure she was fine. 

Chaewon scanned Yunjin’s bed and grabbed the scrump plushie whose head was on the pillow. With everything in hand, she made her way towards the door to get back to Y/n’s room downstairs.

“She doesn’t want to take her medicine.” She pointed out.

Yunjin frowned, over the past few years of knowing Y/n she knew her like the back of her hand, well, there were still things she was learning about her. Y/n was and always would be somewhat of a mystery. Whenever the girl was sick she took it upon herself to take care of her even if every manager advised against it; Yunjin would rather get sick than not take care of Y/n. 

“It’s anxiety-inducing, she doesn’t like taking it, but if you mix it with something–”

“I am not doing that.” Chaewon cut her off and stopped at the stairs to look down at the Facetime call with a frown. The two stared at each other in a second-long silence. 

“Then she won't take it.” Yunjin huffed out in frustration, mimicking Chaewon’s frown but a lot more seriously. “And I’m not there to take care of her either. They didn’t let me stay.” She continued as she wanted to stay behind for a few days, but obviously, that wouldn’t have worked out. Her lower lip jutted out as the corners of her mouth went down at the sadness she felt of being away from Y/n. 

It wasn’t the same, the nights were empty without a moon in the sky. 

“Because we have a group schedule.” The leader mumbled as she continued to make it down the stairs, ignoring Yunjin’s sad and devastated face; looking like a puppy kicked to the curb. 

“Has she eaten yet?”

“No.”

The loud gasp from the girl on the other end resonated through the whole hallway. It was almost midnight in Seoul and Y/n had yet to eat. 

“I tried to have her eat something but she says she has no appetite.”

“Because she needs her medicine first with something little to eat to get the fever down and then her appetite will be back.” The canine argued, feeling her heart rate spike up in worry at the information she was receiving from Chaewon. It was enough that they could barely talk because of the time difference and that they were miles apart, but now she was hearing that Y/n was not managing at all.

“Yunjin.” 

“You just need to make toast with jam, but mix the powder with the jam.” Chaewon groaned at Yunjin’s demanding yet pleading voice that quivered the slightest. It left her no choice as it looked like the girl on the other end wouldn’t stop whining about it and she needed to feed the second youngest member in the end. 

Chaewon stopped for a second as she entered the room, seeing that the feline was barely sitting on the stool at this point. Her cheek pressed against her knees as her one eye was closed and she meekly used the brush against the canvas. 

Y/n heaved a sigh and looked away from the painting and at the older girl who made it over to her. “Being stubborn and grumpy won’t get you better.” Before she could reply the brush was removed from her hold and Chaewon placed it off to the side together with the rest of the things, Yunjin on the call included. 

She didn’t have the energy to argue as her hands were wiped off of any possible paint with the damp rag. It didn’t register in her head when everything suddenly went black and then the light came back; a hoodie now draped over her body. It made Y/n shiver, but in a good way at the comforting warmth and most importantly the scent it carried. Things started to feel like home for the feline.

“Come on, get up.” She was ordered and groaned in response, however, she allowed Chaewon to pull her off of the stool. Her tired eyes looked down at the plush that was placed in her hold and next followed Chaewon’s phone. 

The older girl guided Y/n over to the bed before leaving as the younger was being entertained by Yunjin. 

“You really are my little Scrump, acting like you only have six days left with how sad you look,” Yunjin commented, unable to hide her smile, making her pull the collar of her shirt to make it more subtle. Her eyes roamed Y/n’s face on the screen which became a blur when the girl manoeuvred around to make herself comfortable.

“You could pass as Scrump.” The canine laughed, teasing the sick girl. 

Y/n huffed, her eyes squinting the slightest at Yunjin as she finally lay on her stomach, resting her chin on the scrump plushie. “Are you comparing a sick person to Scrump?” The feline bitterly asked and got a nod in return. 

“I want to see you two side by side–” Yunjin started and looked at Y/n who didn’t budge. “Please?” She added with a small pout and the younger girl groaned in annoyance, her voice a slight rasp. 

Suddenly everything seemed less gloomy; Y/n’s sky was starting to clear up from the dark clouds while Yunjin’s nights had their moon back

Yunjin laughed as Y/n and Scrump were side by side; the girl’s messy hair from the hoodie took away from how serious she was. The baby hairs that stood up at the top of her head made her resemble the plushie even more. 

“Yunjin–” Y/n whined, seeing the screenshot Yunjin took which made her put the plushie down with a frown. 

“I needed a new phone background.” The feline rolled her eyes and settled her cheek against Scrump’s head, making Yunjin tilt her head at how it squished Y/n’s cheek. She took a screenshot with her memory this time to not further stir the already whiny girl. She was aware that even if Y/n would never admit it out loud she loved being doted on and babied when she was sick. 

Yunjin would always do it even if they were worlds apart; she’d do everything and anything to take care of Y/n and make sure she was fine. The same way Y/n did even if she didn’t say that she did; Yunjin felt cared for. That was more than being told that she was cared for. To just know. 

“You’re just staring,” Y/n mumbled, her eyes half open as she stared right back at Yunjin who she had silently watched move around the hotel room. The older girl’s eyes still constantly glanced over at Y/n until she was sat in an armchair and could have all her attention on her. 

“I miss you and looking at you and being with you and just you. The rest are getting annoying to look at.” Yunjin replied, her ginger strands falling over her shoulders as she stared down at the phone with a small smile that made her eyes crease and heat run to her cheeks. She couldn’t get enough of the girl, but she wouldn’t tell Y/n how cute she found her at the moment. 

It made a want grow in her; to take the girl and squish her out of love. 

She’d do it the second Y/n and Chaewon would land in Los Angeles to resume their schedule with them.

Yunjin’s eyes laid on Y/n with a fondness in them, one that made the girl forget everything even being sick. However, Yunjin was more than just a distraction for Y/n. She had somehow turned everything Y/n always wanted to be distracted from into something she no longer minded; Huh Yunjin made life bearable for Oh Y/n. 

“You will get annoyed by me too at some point.” Yet specks of gloom would grain Y/n’s view, but it was never for long with Yunjin there. The feline hummed grainily, still sick albeit distracted from it, her body slowly melting into the mattress. 

She’s heard people judge the girl, she’s seen how hard Y/n had it; being dubbed as hard to deal with and put up with; a stuck-up outcast. To Yunjin she was necessary; she was the moon that pulled her tide. 

She didn’t need the rest to know it though, to know Y/n’s worth and the person that she was; she only needed Y/n to know it. She would always reassure Y/n, she would never get tired of it, never get tired of her feline. 

“The only thing I will get annoyed by is you not being with me.” Her eyes squinted, one a bit more than the other until she closed one fully to inspect Y/n even closer. “Is it wrong to miss you? We can barely even talk because of the time difference.” She sighed, opening her eyes and jutting out her lower lip with a tilt of her head.

“No–” Y/n halted in her words and stared back at Yunjin, her frown still present and she at last relaxed and slumped fully into her bed. She hugged the plush closer to herself while still resting on it, blinking as she felt the words forcibly pushing up her throat, making her purse her lips in an attempt to stop them. Yunjin made it impossible though. “It's annoying because I miss you too.” The feline let out annoyed. 

Yunjin let out a breathless chuckle at the words, deciding to leave them at that to not test her luck. It did spark up her insides and make her feel warm; Y/n always made her feel better and she only wanted to do the same. 

“I’ve heard that smiling is a powerful medicine.” There was still one thing she wanted to do and it was to make her Scrump smile. 

“Well, clearly you haven’t studied medicine.” The canine rolled her eyes at the reply while Y/n looked at her unimpressed. 

“I don’t have to study it to know that seeing you smile makes me feel better and that it makes me smile and then it will make you feel better when I smile, Scrump.” 

Y/n raised her eyebrows at the girl’s reasoning, refusing to smile at the light-hearted words that were nothing more than silly yet meaningful. Her eyes observed Yunjin who moved around, propping the phone up to stand on its own.

“Like this…” The latter closed one eye for better accuracy while using her fingers to try and lift the corners of Y/n’s lips. It was like magic; Yunjin smiled bigger as Y/n tried to hide her face in her shoulder only to peek up and not be able to hold back the smile that tugged on her lips at what the girl on the other end was doing. 

The smile was too big for Y/n’s liking, especially over such silly gestures, but the simplest things from Yunjin did that to her.

“You’re so stupid.” She grumbled and let the phone drop face down just as the door opened. 

“Bro, pick me up!” Y/n ignored Yunjin’s complaints and turned onto her back, propping herself up against the pillows resting against the headboard. 

“Could you please eat this?”

“I guess I could,” Y/n replied, taking the plate from her leader as Yunjin’s whining about being picked up continued. Finally, after hours uttering a word to the other girl.

“Is she being annoying?” Chaewon questioned, unsure if she should pick up her phone, hearing the girl on the other end click her tongue at the question.

“She even called me bro. America is getting to her head.” 

“Hey!” Y/n rolled her eyes at how loud Yunjin managed to be even through the phone, eating the toast she was served. The older girl slumped down beside Y/n and took her phone at last, flipping it over and the first thing she received was a stank face which made her do one in return.

“Why are you acting like I threw you away?”

“Could I get Y/n on the phone, please?” The canine discarded Chaewon’s question, catching a glimpse of Y/n’s head that rested against the leader's shoulder. 

“She’s eating.” 

“I wanna watch.” 

“I’m not a tripod.”

“You could serve as one for now.” 

“No.”

“Ok then give her the phone so she can hold it and you feed her.” 

“That’s ridiculous.” 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“I don’t think I want to have kids in the future anymore,” Chaewon grumbled as she accepted the ridiculousness of Yunjin’s request. It did let her make sure that Y/n ate everything. 

She realised how much Yunjin spoiled the girl but what baffled her the most was that Y/n allowed Yunjin to spoil her and didn’t argue about it like she did with everyone else. The girl didn’t shut her out nor did she turn a cold shoulder. Not being there to do it, she did it through the leader. Always finding a way for Y/n.

“You’d be a good mother.” Y/n tiredly mumbled, starting to feel better, subtly stretching her limbs and wordlessly seeking for comfort that she got from Chaewon who wrapped an arm around her shoulders. It let her snuggle up to her with her head on her chest, eyes growing heavy.

“Since when are you nice to me?”

“Since always.” The feline replied, her eyes barely open as Yunjin was still on the phone, now getting ready for the schedule they had today. She was still not tired of talking endlessly as Y/n quietly listened the way she always did; Chaewon doing most of the talking with the latter.

“You were just a pain in the ass a second ago.” Y/n huffed at the words as Chaewon patted her head before running her fingers through the black strands.

“Okay well actually, do maybe reconsider becoming a mother.” Chaewon rolled her eyes, looking down at the phone with feigned bitterness as Yunjin was giggling.

“Please Yunjin, talk to her until she passes out.” 

Yunjin happily did, talking until both of them fell asleep. 

[darlingsfandom]

Could i please ask for a Tommy request where your his new assistant you’ve both been flirting and teasing each other with occasionally bumping into each other slight touch of hands until one day tommy decides to step over the line and fucks you in his office claiming you his.

Understand that you’r super busy and if this is something you can’t write I understand you can change anything.

You got it friend ✨

TW: swearing, cream pie, p in v unprotected, slight breeding kink if you squint !

Not proof read- also finished writing this at 2am!

It’s been over six months in the Shelby household. Six months of doing laundry, making breakfast, lunch, dinner and every Friday a nice dessert followed by doing the dishes, cleaning the rooms and making the beds. They do pay a pretty penny and since you’ve come so far for the position they turned a spare room into your bedroom , of course it was on the first floor by the kitchen but that was better than walking all the way home to turn around and return only a few hours later.

Every day you followed the same schedule of getting up, getting ready, made their breakfast , cleaned up then had your own breakfast before re cleaning the kitchen, did the laundry, dusted, took out the garbage , tidied up the rooms and made the beds (Polly made her own! She’s picky about it) after that you’d make a simple lunch and take it to whatever room the family members were in. You enjoyed it.

“Good afternoon Mr.Shelby.” You spoke softly walking into his office. Tommy was looking over some paperwork as you dropped off his lunch.

“Smells delicious as always.” He gave you a quick smile which made your heart flutter.

“Thank you Mr.Shelby, I’ll be back for your dishes in a little bit.” You nodded and made your way out of the room making sure to hide your blush as best as possible. It was no secret that you found him attractive , but you’re not the only one who has eyes for him. You’ve seen your fair share of the women who strolled in and out , but lately there’s been less and less. Usually he’d bring home two girls a night , every night! But it’s actually been about two weeks since you’ve seen him being anyone home.

You stood in the kitchen looking out the window watching the rain pour while the dishes sat on the rack air drying. It wasn’t usual for you to have some down time and the family didn’t mind since you did a good job.

“Anything interesting out there?” His voice made you jump a little before you turned to see him holding his dirty dishes.

“Oh Mr.Shelby, you didn’t have to bring those out here , I was coming to get those shortly.” You took the tray from his hands. His finger tips brushed over yours gently and that wasn’t new. Lately Tommy has been finding ways to touch you in soft ways for example he’d touch your waist when squeezing past you in the hall, how his fingers would touch your hand when handing you something, his eyes would linger on you when you’d bend to set his stuff down or when you’d bend over to grab something from under the sink, no wonder he’d stop bringing random women home.

“It’s the least I could do, gettin’ a bit borin readin’ paper work all day.” He smiled at you as you walked over to the sink .

“I suppose that could be borin’” you washed up the dishes as he stood there watching you carefully before stepping towards you and boxing you in against the sink. His hands rested on your hips making your skin crawl in a good way before his chin rested on your shoulder. “Mr.Shelby, are you feeling okay? Do I need to get you some medicine ?” You turned a little but he stopped you .

“I’m not sick darlin. Just need someone to hold. It’s been a minute…” His hands ran up your sides before pulling you away from the sink as you set the last dish on the rack. “Come with me.” Tommy held onto your hand as the two of you walked back into his office. “Please sit.” He set you down on the couch by the window before making sure the door was locked. “You enjoy your job yeah?” He asked sitting down next to you.

“I do Mr.Shelby. Your family is very kind to me and pay well.” You nodded rubbing your hands over your thighs. His hand rested over yours before lacing his fingers with yours which made your eyes grow wide.

“Please darling, don’t be shy.” Tommy leaned in and kissed your cheek before moving along your jawline up to your lips where he brushed them slowly. Your lips pushed back into kiss your eyes fluttering closed as his hand moved up your thigh. Tommy kissed you harder as he adjusted you so that you were on his lap. Your hands rested against his chest.

“Mr. Shelby … this is wrong. I’m just your help.” Tommy placed his finger over your lips to which you wrapped them around his finger while looking in his eyes.

“You’re not my help sweetheart, you’re simply mine.” His eyes darkened with each word while his tone shifted making you clench around nothing.

“I’m sorry , I don’t understand …” you tilted your head in confusion before you felt his teeth sinking into the side of your neck. Tommy sucked softly after biting making a small whimper leave your lips.

“It’s simple. What’s mine is MINE! And you darling are mine and I’ll make sure everyone knows it.” Tommy had pushed you back onto your feet before quickly lifting up your long skirt and bending you over his desk. He smirked at the wet patch on your panties as his fingers ran across the spot, his lips pressed into the side of your neck, your hands held tightly onto the desk with your head feeling fuzzy because there was no way it was happening. “You’re all mine.” He whispered against your skin as his fingers pulled your panties to the side so he could slide his fingers into slowly making you gasp.

“Mr.Shelby!” You looked over your shoulder to see the way he was biting his lip like a man being detained from his favorite meal.

“Please darling, call me Tommy.” His fingers twisted in and out of you at a pleasurable pace that you’ve tried to reach yourself. Tommy pulled his fingers out before licking them clean while fussing with his belt. The loud clank of the metal hitting the ground brought you back to reality.

“Tommy! We shouldn’t be doing this , you’re my boss.” His finger covered your lips to shush you again before he turned you to face you as his free hand ran over your stomach.

“I’m not your boss anymore… you’re simply mine and I can’t make it any clearer “ Tommy grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest while he lined the head of his cock up with your pussy and slowly pushed in making you scream , nose scrunching from the stretch of pain. “Unless I put a baby in ya.” Your eyes went huge in disbelief.

“Tommy!”

“Don’t worry darling , I won’t put a baby in you… yet.” He pushed himself all the way inside making your hands grip onto his shoulders. Tommy let you adjust. The way your heart was about to burst out of your chest scared you because there was no way this was happening! Thomas Shelby was fucking you on his desk, to be fair you’ve thought about it a million times in your own bed but you didn’t think it would actually happen.

The two of you stayed silent for what felt like ages. Tommy slowly started pumping in and out of you while looking into your eyes. Your hands ran over his chest before gripping the fabric of his shirt to pull him in deeper and smash your lips against his. You’re not sure what came over you but you wrapped your leg around his waist as he started to pick up the pace. Hearing his groans deep in your ear made you moan right into his ear as he held you tightly. His scent of tobacco and whisky intoxicated you along with how he switched it up by pulling your other leg up and angled himself deeper into you making you cry out.

“Oh Tommy! I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“I know darling , I know! I’ve wanted you too.” His words made you melt. Tommy looked into your eyes before kissing you hard , biting your lip as he pushed harder into you.

“What took you so long ?”

“Had to make sure you wanted me too. Do you know many girls see me just for the money?”

“You mean the whores?”

“Yes! They meant nothing, mindless sex.. this though… this feels real .” He stroked your cheek.

“Tommy, I love this soft side but could we have this talk after?” You pleaded before he looked down to see his cock glisten with your juices.

“Sorry darling, see you get me feeling so many things.” He chuckled before adjusting you on the desk and holding your legs up and wide open so he could drill harder into you.

“Fuck!” Your eyes closed shut as he took no mercy in holding back, letting all the tension ease out into you. The way you moaned below him with the cuteness on your face how pink you were, how your nose scrunched, the way your lips stayed parted, you were the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.

“Darlin, I can’t last much longer.” Tommy was a panting mess above you. His face tightened as a loud groan escaped his throat. His thighs shook as the grip on your ankles tightened , his organs hit him hard , filling you up with his cum Tommy looked down at you to see that look in your eye. He knew your own orgasm was on the edge so he used his thumb to reach down and rub your clit with slight pressure at an alarming pace. The coil in your stomach snapped making your back arch as you cried out for him digging your nails into his desk.

“Shhh, I got you.” Tommy pulled you up and wrapped his arms around you to keep you close. He kissed the top of your head while you panted in his arms. The two of you stayed in each others arms comforting each other until his office door came flying in.

“Thomas … have you..! Oh!” John covered his eyes with a smirk on his lips.

“Oh be a man John, it’s not like you haven’t fucked a girl before.” Tommy rolled his eyes before brushing the hair from your face.

“Of course I’ve fucked a girl, just never our staff.”

“Well from now on, Y/N is not our staff ! She’s my love.” Tommy kissed your cheek.

“Yeah yeah that’s great and all but for the love of god can ya get dressed , we have a meeting.” John waved his hand before stepping out of the room. Tommy shook his head before slowly pulling out of you. You could feel some of his cum drip out of you before he fixed your panties. Tommy tucked himself away before pulling you back by your hips.

“Move into my room tonight.” He rubbed your hips gently.

“Yes, Mr.Shelby.” You gave him a wink before he gave a little pat on the ass as you made your way out of his office and down the hall to your new way of life.

[leosxrealm]

ʜᴏᴍᴇ

pairing(s): prince! Arthur Leclerc x male! knight! reader

warning(s): hurt/comfort, mentions of injury, mentions of death, royal au! forbidden romance(?)

(a/n): kinda inspired by hozier :) changed the lyrics a bit. a short drabble for my fav leclerc

!not proofread!

"No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to you."

"Your Highness," you manage out through gritted teeth, "you shouldn't get your hands dirty."

He says nothing, silently applying the green paste he made using different medicinal herbs, across your middle. "My prince," you try again. He doesn’t respond, his eyes trained on your body, careful not to hurt you.

"Arthur," your voice is soft, almost like a whisper. He looks up, his ocean eyes clashing with yours.

"I told you not to go," he whispers, a hint of betrayal. He goes back to focusing on your wounds. You smile ever so slightly. "Your Highness-" his eyes snap to you, daring you. "Arthur," you say softly, "I do not have a choice in such matters. I have to go when I am called."

He chews the inside of his cheeks. There has to be some way he could prevent you from going to battles. He was a prince after all, wasn't he? "This is what I was raised for," your voice cuts off his thoughts. 

"No," he says sharply, preventing any further discussion. He gets up from where he was kneeling, using a gauze to wrap around your wounds. He moves to stand in between your legs, still careful to not hurt you. 

He's close. Right within your reach. You could feel his breath across your shoulder. His body heat, warming up your naked torso. He moves the gauze over your back, taking a step back to tie it up.

He ties the final knot, his fingers grazing over your body. They're shaking, you notice. "Arthur," your hand reaches to cup his cheek, guiding his eyes to yours. "I'm here," you utter softly, "I'm fine."

"You're fine," he repeats after you, barely audible. His lower lip wobbles. You pull him in, holding him tight. 

"You're fine. You're fine. You're fine..."

"My prince," you press a lingering kiss to his forehead, "breathe. Breathe with me."

He clings onto you, his arms wrapped around your broad shoulders, his face buried in the crook of your neck. He breathes, following you. In and Out. In and Out. Slowly.

He pulls away, his eyes moist. "You should lie down," he gently pushes you back on the bed. "Rest," he says. He tucks you in, leaning down to press his lips to yours.

"Stay," you catch his wrist, "Please."

He takes a seat on the bed beside you, leaning against the bed frame. You move, trying not to let out a groan. You rest your head in his lap. His hands find their way to your hair, gently playing with the strands.

"What's wrong?" you question, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Of course, you can read him like an open book. He doesn't respond, his fingers mindlessly playing with your hair.

"My love," you hold his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, "Talk to me."

"One day," he whispers, "I fear, that one day, you won't return home to me."

You say nothing. How could you? He wasn't wrong. It was a possibility. Soldiers die on the battlefield every day. And one day, sooner or later, it would be your turn. 

You bring his hand to your mouth, leaving small kisses every where you could reach. "No grave can hold my body down," you murmur against his knuckles, "I'll crawl home to you."

A look into your eyes, and he knew it was the truth. You'll always come back to him.

[azrielhours]

Company of Phantoms

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 2k

Synopsis: Azriel has a crush that's overtaking his life. He's so obsessed with her that he starts hallucinating her lol.

A/N: inspired partly by The Haunting of Hill House and this

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Azriel sat and watched, thanked the Mother for all his training for the privilege it allowed him to take her in. Hell—if all the knowledge he possessed peaked and surrendered to this, the holy act of observing her, if this was all it was good for, Azriel would be content. He even felt lighter about the horrors of his past, felt an absolved ease knowing it all would end with this act of penitence. An arm’s-length indulgence.   

With her.

But she was starlight, an ectoplasmic celestial body that glowed. She smiled so big and bright it made his breath catch. He’d have to look away sometimes to relieve the ache she carved into his chest.  

If she shone any less, it would be an act of mercy.

But Azriel had always veered on the side of masochism.

He was afraid his darkness would make her wink out. Didn’t want to be the cause of her dimming. Would never dream of contaminating that joy. Even when she’d smile at him, even when he’d struggle to return it, left instead with the sight of hers faltering at his coldness.

He could stand the shame sluicing through his chest cavity, take the sting of hurt all for the assurance he’d insist to himself—that this was the noble thing.

Everyone adored her, and it was what she deserved. The foul-mouthed temptress she was, making males redden at the dirty jokes she told, laughing bright and beautiful. The empathy she dealt like medicine that drew friends to her like a siren luring sailors. Secret keeper. Rhys doted on her, bought her jewelry to watch her face light up. Azriel never missed how his brother’s face would crinkle with adoration, with the ease of loving her when she opened his stream of gifts.

She was easy to love.

It was like she was slotted just right to each person.

He often wondered how she would mould to him should he ever open up, to return her generous smiles that had begun growing seldom.

She was soft with Feyre, creative and adventurous. Often found up to various artistic schemes no one else understood, discussing motifs and strokes, tragedy and yearning. Gone for hours to emerge with bright eyes and paint smears.

She cried to Cassian, and it was an effort to reign in Azriel’s envy, to listen to the drowning voice of reason telling him to be glad she was being comforted rather than to rage at his thieving brother as he’d stroke away her tears with gentler hands than those dealt to him in his life. She’d lie next to Nesta on her heavier days. Read to her, talk about foreshadowing and hope that made Nesta’s eyes light up.

It was always light brought to others. Her contagious aura.

And damn him, it was like his youth all over again, watching his brothers care for Mor, watching how she fit seamlessly.

How she chose Cassian. Never him. How she cried to Rhys, never him.

It seemed Azriel would always be haunted by the ghosts of his past.

And damn him for still possessing that otherness that punctured holes in his chest then, the same holes now that made it impossible to heave in a full breath, to sleep soundly. An undead soldier. It’d been weeks of this incessant torment. His heart would palpitate til his body perceived a threat. No sleep in the night—thoughts of her haunted him, taunting—so he’d pace like a lingering spirit.

He could see her always.

In the dark quiet of the house, there’d be a flash of silk around corners. Someone tossing hair over a shoulder. The echo of a laugh in another hallway. He’d creep to it, try to spy it out only to be met with empty corners.

Yet there in his peripherals, at the ends of hallways in the dark—

Again and again—glimpses.

His ghost.

His bed had become a grave, no peace found in it to rest. No food for the dead, only scraps—libations offered into the fire that was his belly. In the fleeting moments of rest, oftentimes in armchairs in all the wrong rooms, he’d meet her. She glowed even there, that phantom halo that marked a ghost. A beacon of light to his shadowy storm. She’d hold his hands and love him. And when he’d fade back to consciousness, in the early morning hours, if he sat still long enough, he knew he would hear her murmurs echoing down the halls.

Azriel wanted with all his might, wanted like it was his purpose.

Wanted like it could possibly mean something. Do something.

Wanting was all Azriel knew.

Beneath his shadows, beneath the contained lethal capacity of his body, any semblance of sanity, beneath ancient bone and immortal rot, he wondered if his soul was made purely of desire.

It made sense then, he supposed, that if he was wanting at his basest self, he would dream about nothing more than to have the unattainable. A ghost.

A wish.

It was impossible to eat. Sleeplessness stole his appetite. He consumed coffee in the morning and drank on an empty stomach in the evening. Nesta saw—she knew, pressing fruit and bread in his hand sometimes, but mostly she was quiet, which Azriel thanked her for in equal silence.

Tell her, Az, she whispered once. He’d shaken his head, and that was that.

Sometimes when everyone was home, he could pretend like it didn’t exist, the pull to her. He’d try to relax in his flesh and participate in having a family, but then she’d walk into the room, having just come home from somewhere Azriel knew every detail about.

The effort to not stare, to not care nor assess, to calm his heart, his mind—the shift out of the state of pretended calmness to an even worse pretence of calmness—the stream of thoughts that would pummel his brain would jolt so violently, the wanting was so violent that Feyre would flinch.

He couldn’t stand it—the lying. He knew everyone was doing it. Pretending they didn’t see what haunted him. At the first damned prod of a dark talon at his mind, Azriel stood, leaving. Ignoring how she peered at him with a pinch between her brows, stepping out of the path.

Azriel exhaled, watched his breath curl in the cool night air. Closed his eyes in exasperation as he heard footsteps approaching on the balcony. Whatever wise words Rhys may attempt to offer could be shoved up—

“Azriel,” Feyre spoke gently.

He turned, taking in his High Lady. “Feyre, I don’t really—”

“Az,” she cut him off, “I—don’t mean to pry. But you’re not—” she exhaled. “I know you haven’t been eating, and Rhys says—”

“It’s fine, Feyre,” he said softly. It was his own fault for not reigning in his thoughts. He wondered how much more he’d been broadcasting in his state, made clumsy by restlessness. If Feyre knew of the glimpses he trailed after at night—the ghost chasing.

She frowned, concern swimming in her eyes. Insomnia can cause hallucinations, she spoke gently into his mind.

Azriel scoffed. “I’m not hallucinating.”

Feyre stepped closer, caressing his elbow. “You know, if you’d just talk to her—”

“I can’t.”

She paused for a beat. “I can help put you to sleep, if you want.”

He just shook his head. Feyre accepted his boundary, leaving him to linger in his purgatory. He stayed, breathing in the cold until things quieted in the house.

Re-entering the emptied lounge, he sat, meeting wakefulness like a reluctant ally. His shadows curled at his cold ears. In her room, they informed. Saying goodnight.

Azriel listened to the sounds of his family settling in. He closed his eyes, envisioned how she might look, if she was perhaps brushing her hair, how she might look in the dim glow of a faelight. Settled and safe. Or—even better, he imagined her coming down, seeking him out. How lovely she’d look descending the stairs. If he focused hard enough, he could make out the sound—

Azriel opened his eyes, awaiting the gentle creak of wood.

His heart skipped a beat. Was she indeed coming to him?

He rose, quietly making his way to the stairs, wanting to see her descend to him.

Her steps were growing closer, and Azriel peered up the darkened stairwell—

She must’ve turned around, but Azriel caught the glow of an aura at the top, around the corner.

He made his way up, listening with all his might.

There—the rustle of silk. He sent his shadows ahead in the dark, not wanting to frighten her.

Clear, they whispered. He stalked down the hall, turning corners, walking past the low chatter behind various bedroom doors. He was nearly at the end of the hall when—

At her door, a shadow curled at his ear. Azriel frowned, if she was at her door, how could she—

A soft feminine laugh made him turn. Nothing, but he was sure—

There was that silk again, trailing around a corner.

Azriel blinked, making his way over. She was looking for him, he was certain.

More pacing around the darkened halls, trying to catch sight of that silk again.

Azriel.

He froze.

She’d called him.

A few walls over, he could recognize that voice. He whipped his head in the direction, creeping over.

Nothing.

Azriel.

There—again, he turned the other direction, blindly following.

Azriel.

He walked faster, his shadows swarming all around his body and up the walls, trying to catch his name.

Azriel.

Azriel.

“Azriel?”

He jolted, turning to the source.

Y/N stood in her doorway directly to his side, making him halt in his tracking. She took in the agitated churning of his shadows, burying him in darkness.

She was—there she was.

Azriel took a step toward her. She’d called him.

“Y/N,” he breathed.

She looked up at him wide-eyed. “Are you—alright?”

He assessed her. She—how could she be here so quickly, if he’d seen—

He looked around the hall, trying to make it make sense. He frowned, turning back to her. She was partially behind the threshold of the door, apprehension tensing her form under his scrutiny, the restlessness marking darkness beneath his eyes.

He was making her nervous.

Azriel immediately reigned in his shadows, relaxing his stance to a neutral posture rather than his previous mid-prowl stride, tucking his hands behind his back.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke gently. “I thought I…did I wake you?”

She shook her head, stepping more fully in the doorway, making Azriel relax. “No, I—your shadows were under my door, and when I came to them, I could hear…someone wandering outside.”

Azriel blinked. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

She bit her lip, assessing him. “It’s alright. Why were you pacing?”

“I, uh—I couldn’t sleep.”

She nodded. “I heard Rhys tell Feyre you’ve been having trouble sleeping,” she said quietly.

Azriel’s shoulders slumped, his head dipped in confirmation.

She nodded again in thought, peering up at him again with that wonder. Azriel should’ve taken Feyre up on her offer, should’ve known better. He should apologize again and stop bothering her— “Would you, um, like to come in?”

Azriel’s breath caught.

She shifted her weight. “If—if you can’t sleep, I mean—I’m awake, and—”

“Yes,” he said.

Surprise lit up her eyes despite her offer, and she nodded and stepped aside to let him in.

Azriel’s heart was in his throat. His sleep-deprived state blurred the edges of his reserve, but he allowed himself to take the opportunity.

In her room, he took in the warm space. She closed the door behind him and came to stand beside him. She was indeed in a nightgown, hair unbound, glowing as usual. He averted his gaze when she blushed beneath his stare.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I haven’t had much rest lately.”

“That’s okay,” she said, stepping closer. “I know, I—usually I can hear you pacing at night,” she confessed. He hadn’t realized he’d been that overt. She beckoned him to walk to her bed, perching at the end of it. She smiled, gently patting the space next to her.

Azriel swallowed, making his way to her.

She looked to her bed and back at the Spymaster. “I, uh—you do look tired, Azriel.”

“Do I?” he was pleasantly surprised to find contentment in her space—in her presence. The longest he’d ever spoken to her, and it turned out to be easier than breathing.

“Mhm,” she nodded, taking him in. She raised a hand to his face, tracing the bruises beneath his eyes with gentle fingertips. “Poor thing,” she breathed, frowning. “I know how hard it can be to have insomnia.”

She lowered her hand, clasping them in her lap. She looked to the pillows again, then back to him. Azriel resisted the upward tug of his lips, seeing how long it would take her to invite him to sleep.

How careless did sleeplessness make him, indeed.

He simply nodded. “It is hard.”

“It helps if you feel someone,” she spoke softly, blushing. “I sometimes sleep with one of the girls.”

Azriel hummed in thought.

“Or—you know, we can get you a sleeping tonic.”

“We could try that.”

She suddenly averted his gaze, crossing her arms across her abdomen. In a small voice, she said, “I know you don’t—like me, Azriel, but—”

He frowned. “I do like you,” he interjected.

She paused, meeting his gaze. “You do?” The vulnerability swimming in her eyes made him shift closer to her on the bed.

“I do.” He thanked the Mother for the inhibition of his judgement.

She was silent for a beat. “But—you leave the rooms I enter,” she said in that small voice.

Azriel’s heart broke. He dared to reach a hand out, gently taking hers. “It’s—it’s because I like you,” he said lowly.

Her mouth parted in an o shape, and she squeezed his hand, a small smile overtaking her lovely face.

“You were my ghost,” he muttered.

Confusion drew her brows together. “What?”

Azriel smiled, a laziness creeping up his body that he’d missed for weeks. “I’ll explain it in the morning.”

Her brows shot up, pink tinting her cheeks. “In the morning?” Another glance to the bed.

Azriel laughed. “Unless you want to hear it now.”

She smiled, tentative and sweet, shaking her head. “The morning will do.” She rose, taking his hands in both of hers, prompting him to rise. He held her stare, let her pull him to the head of her bed. She tugged back the covers, sliding under and patting the space next to her again.

Azriel toed off his shoes, took off his outermost layers, placing his belt and various assets onto her dresser. She pulled her knees to her chest, watching intently as he offloaded in her space, basking in the belonging.

When he at last slid beneath the cover, he lay on his back next to her. She reached for his hand beneath the covers, clasping it. Without saying a word, he squeezed her hand. He felt the tension seep out of his body, felt heaviness in his eyelids that matched the one in his chest. She shuffled closer to him so they lay shoulder to shoulder. He didn’t dare move, let her settle against his arm, still only holding his hand under the covers.

As rest crept up on him for the first time in weeks, his restless thoughts were calmed by the warmth of her presence, the kindness he allowed himself to finally taste.

“You know,” she muttered in the dark. “With all your pacing, I was beginning to wonder if this place was haunted.”

Azriel huffed out a laugh. “Imagine that.”

He could hear the smile on her lips. “Guess it was just our sneaky Shadowsinger.”

Azriel shook his head, smiling. “Guess so.”

She turned, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight Azriel.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

~

taglist: @iimisty-a @feyretopia @aroseinvelaris @cullenswife @reiincarnatiion @sfhsgrad-blog @answer-the-sirens @mrstangerinejohnson @marigold-morelli @courtofjurdan @azriels-mate123 @emotionless-lover @marina468 @slvtherinseeker @owllover123 @banasheefan56 @nyotamalfoy

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 19

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18

M!troll x f!reader

1.4 k words

No one enjoys a hangover, but especially when it’s combined with messy feelings.

(I am feral over my own character, ask box is always open for talking about my writing or just monster fucking in general!)

————

“My head” Zen whined at you and attempted to bury his face into your hair.

You reached up to pat his head, “You had quite a night”.

“I feel awful, this is why I do not drink”.

“Yeah, I didn’t think you were that drunk until you stood up and tried to get into bed last night, the wine must have hit you all at once when you stood up”.

“I feel like I got hit over the head”.

You rolled over to face him, grimacing at the way your back stuck to him for a moment and the crusty feeling on your skin. “Besides waking up hung over, did you enjoy it?” you asked.

“What? Hearing how incredible you sounded? Looking up and seeing your beautiful face all flushed? Tasting and smelling you? Feeling your thighs against my face and how you came on my tongue? I enjoyed you very much”.

You face was red hot and you buried it into his chest, this time not minding the cum still there.

“Are you embarrassed?” his words were soft in your ear, “Because you should not be. I could have spent all night kneeling before you and worshipping you”.

“You’re still drunk” you muttered.

“No, not any more. I simply want my wife to know how desirable I find her”.

You stayed quiet, not really sure how to respond. Not being used to Zen, or anyone else for that matter, ever being that intense.

“I am sorry” he apologized, sensing your discomfort, “I thought- never mind”. His voice fell and you felt his grip on you tighten a bit before he withdrew from you.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, unsure how to proceed but Zen was no longer purring.

“How about I get you something for your head?” you offered, trying to break the uncomfortable mood that had settled in.

“You do not have to” he responded.

“Your head hurts, right? So let me help you”.

“Thank you”.

You got up and for the first time that week his touch did not linger on you. He had never tired to keep you from getting up, but normally he would keep his hands on you as long as possibly until he could no longer reach you as you got up. His sudden disinterest stung.

Trying to ignore it you busied yourself with the same medicine Zen made up for you when you did not feel well, mixing the powder with cool water and trying to stir all the lumps out. You also took a moment to light the hearth and start heating water for tea.

His back was to you when you brought him over the medicine so you gently tapped his shoulder to get his attention. He rolled over, sat up and accepted the medicine with a quick “thank you”.

You leaned in to kiss his forehead as you had gotten into the habit over the past week. Usually Zen met you half way, nuzzling against your kiss so you each could expression affection in the way that felt natural to you. This time he remained still.

As you pulled away you felt the tears welling up in your eyes. You had wanted to just calmly ask what was wrong, what you might have done or said to cause such a sudden shift, but quickly emotion overwhelmed you instead.

Before you could register what happened he had pulled you down onto the bed next to him, his arms wrapped tightly around you. “Hey, what is wrong?” he sounded panicked.

You sniffled, gulping down air and unable to get words out you just wailed into his chest.

“It is ok, I have you” and you felt his tusk bump against your face in his clumsy and panicked attempt to nuzzle you.

“Are you mad at me?” you finally managed to get out.

“Mad? Of course not”.

“Then why did you get so cold all of a sudden?”

“I believe I misread the situation and it hurt a little, that is all. But I did not mean to upset you”.

“Of course I’m upset, you suddenly wanted nothing to do with me” you sniffled.

“I just- yesterday, yesterday was nice, and I do not mean just the physical part. I do not think we had ever just sat and talked like that before, like how we just laid in bed drinking together. It felt nice. It felt close.

“And I do not know how you see me, but I think I might have misread things this morning.

“I do not think you look at me the same way I look at you, and that is alright. I will never ask for more than you are willing to give, it just did not feel good to realize it”.

Your heart sank. You were not entirely sure what you did to make him think that, but he sounded so crushed, and he was still the one comforting you instead.

“I’m sorry” you instinctively nuzzled against his chest, it was amazing how fast it had just became habit to do so.

“It is ok if you do not feel the same. I will meet you where you are at” he assured you.

You wrapped your arms around his middle, practically pulling yourself into his lap, “How do you feel then?”

“I have felt happy. It has been nice to wake up and not be alone, to come home to someone. And over the last week it has been nice to just be close, and I thought it was what you wanted too last night, but I see I am mistaken”.

“Is it because I turned you down last night?”

“What? No!” he seemed offended, “I have some gaps in my memory, so I do not remember that, and I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but I am not upset if you did not want to sleep with me”.

“What is it that you wanted then?”

“This morning I wanted to lay with you and tell you how much I enjoy having you in my life in any capacity, and I started to tell you and you just froze. You stop talking or reacting and seemed so uncomfortable, so I stopped”.

“And shut me out”.

“Yes, I am allowed to be hurt or disappointed, I thought my wife may actually want a relationship that was more than just in name, so when you stopped responding when I starting telling you that it did not exactly feel good”.

“I didn’t realize that’s what you meant” you said softly.

“What did you think I meant?”

“I don’t know! You were talking about last night and I just assumed you meant like a physical desire, and it was just sort of intense how you were talking. I didn’t know how to respond”.

“Then why did you not say something then?”

“I don’t know, it was just a lot. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I was worried! And hurt! I felt so rejected” he sounded so broken, “I was trying to be romantic and tell you how I felt because I’ll thought you felt the same way”.

“Since when?”

“Since when what?”

“Since when did you feel like that?”

“The bandit camp, when I accepted Tsov’ka gift without a second thought. Because the fear of someone harming you, or losing you, scared me enough to not even think about the repercussions. I realized that I truly wanted you in my life as a constant presence, romantic or not, and then when you wanted to stay here and started being affectionate I got my hopes up that maybe you might want to have an actual relationship too”.

“I do”.

“What?”

“I do want to get to know you, and actually have a relationship, I thought we were already doing that”.

You felt his arms tighten around you and finally heard him purring again.

“I am looking forward to courting my wife then” he said.

“I think we’re doing it out of order then”.

“I do not care. I am going to court my wife and get to know you because we did not get to choose each other before, but I want to choose you now, and I hope you choose me too if given the chance”.

You kissed his chest and nuzzled him, “I’d like that. Now take the medicine and I’m going to see if there’s any water left if the kettle for tea or if it all boiled away”.

“I am never drinking again”.

“Do you want to hear everything you did and said drunk?”

“Oh spirits”.

————

Part 20

Tag list

@blushycadaver @hazyspacefairy @littlelovebug98 @tufflepuff23

[kiwriteswords]

Tonight, you're on my mind, so you'll never know...

Chapter One Out of Four (Possibly Five!)

Masterlist || Ao3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 8k

Tags/Warnings: Canon-typical themes, sexual themes, hurt/comfort, angst, pining, mutual pining, spoilers for Criminal Minds seasons 1-12, friends to lovers, first-time, loss of virginity, grief, trauma, timeline of 8 year old!Hotch---Post CM!Hotch--please let me know if I am missing anything!

Sypnosis: Years have passed since you and Aaron Hotchner first crossed paths, but the connection you shared has never truly faded. In the wake of personal loss and career demands, your lives have taken different directions, leaving unresolved feelings and unspoken words lingering in the background. As fate pulls you back into each other’s orbit, you must navigate the delicate balance between duty, grief, and the possibility of rekindling something you thought was lost forever. In a world of danger, distance, and emotional walls, will you and Aaron finally confront the past—or let it slip away once more?

Aaron Hotchner was eight years old when he first met you. You were the new kid in Mrs. Parker’s third-grade class, standing nervously at the front of the room with your backpack clutched tight to your shoulders. From his desk in the middle of the room, Aaron gave you a small, encouraging smile, and something in your anxious expression softened.

As the weeks went by, Aaron made it his mission to make sure you felt welcomed. He was always the one to offer a smile, a joke, or a helping hand when you needed it. He'd pass you notes during math class, full of silly drawings or clever ways to remember formulas, making you laugh when you felt like you didn’t belong. You and Aaron became inseparable, spending recess huddled together, planning your next science project, or making up games on the playground.

When the science fair rolled around, there was no question who your partner would be. You and Aaron stayed up late at each other’s houses, surrounded by cardboard volcanoes and school supplies, arguing playfully over who got to make the 'lava' erupt. Those late nights were filled with whispered secrets and quiet giggles that only the two of you understood.

But just as life seemed to settle into a pattern, everything changed. Aaron’s parents decided he needed a different kind of education—a stricter environment to hone his potential. He was being sent to boarding school, far away from your small town and the life you both knew. The news hit like a punch to the gut, the kind that left you breathless and aching.

On his last day of school, you both sat on the swings, silent, the words you wanted to say trapped in your throat. Aaron finally turned to you, a sad smile on his face, and handed you a small note—his handwriting neat and careful as always. You opened it to see the words, "I’ll come back someday. Don’t forget me."

You nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. "I won’t," you promised, squeezing his hand one last time before he let go. You watched him walk away, carrying that promise with him.

Time passed, and life carried you both in different directions. Aaron went off to boarding school and then to college while you buried yourself in your studies, eventually finding your passion for medicine. 

Aaron hadn’t crossed your mind in years—not in the way he used to, back when every recess felt like a lifetime you spent together. Time had a way of making memories feel softer like they belonged to someone else.

You heard bits and pieces about Aaron over the years, mainly through the grapevine. You knew he was still with Haley Brooks, the sweet girl who lived a block away from where he used to live. It seemed inevitable that they would end up together; she was the familiar face, the constant in his life when everything else kept changing.

It was a complete surprise when you walked into the library on your first day at college and saw him. Aaron Hotchner, sitting at a table with law books piled high, his face buried in a notebook, scribbling furiously. 

He looked different—older, more serious—but when he glanced up and saw you, his entire expression softened in that way it always had when he looked at you.

“Aaron?” you called out, tentative, like you weren’t sure if he would remember you.

His eyes went wide, and then his lips curved into that same slow smile you remembered from so many years ago. "I can’t believe it’s you," he said, standing up, his voice tinged with both disbelief and a quiet joy.

You two fell into step as though no time had passed, and soon, one cup of coffee turned into hours of catching up, late-night study sessions, and long walks across campus. You'd spend those evenings beneath the soft glow of street lamps, talking about everything and nothing, like you were making up for all the years you'd lost.

One night, during a quiet moment on a bench outside the library, Aaron turned to you, his eyes filled with a kind of wonder that made your heart skip a beat. 

“You know, I never thought I’d see you again,” he said softly, his voice laced with a mix of disbelief and gratitude. “I thought that part of my life was over, and then you just… walked back in.”

You gave him a small, shy smile, feeling the warmth of his gaze settle over you. 

“I didn’t think I’d see you again either,” you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. “But I’m glad I did. It feels like fate, almost.”

He reached for your hand, hesitating for just a second before his fingers laced through yours. 

“I don’t think I realized how much I missed this—how much I missed you,” he admitted, his thumb gently brushing over the back of your hand. “You always had this way of making everything feel... right. Even when everything else is falling apart.”

You looked down at your intertwined hands, feeling like you were standing on the edge of something that could change everything. “You know,” you said, your eyes flicking up to meet his, “you’re different with me, Aaron. Softer, somehow. Like you’re letting me see the side of you that no one else gets to see.”

He smiled at that, a slow, tender smile that seemed to light up his whole face. “That’s because, with you, I don’t have to pretend,” he said quietly. “With you, I can just be... me.”

You knew why that was. You knew about his family, the chaos he rarely spoke of but never seemed to escape. His father’s harsh words, the impossible expectations, and the way Aaron had been forced to grow up too fast. He’d always been the parentified child—the one who had to hold it all together when everything around him was crumbling. 

With you, he didn’t have to be that. He didn’t have to be the protector, the caretaker, the one who was always in control. With you, he could just breathe.

Slowly, those study sessions turned into something more. There were late-night conversations that turned into soft laughter, the kind that echoed in the quiet hallways of the library when everyone else had gone home. 

Aaron started to lean closer, his arm brushing against yours, his gaze lingering just a moment too long on your lips. And then, one night, he finally closed the distance.

It was a gentle kiss, innocent and tentative, as if he was afraid to break the fragile moment you’d both created. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed, his breath mingling with yours in the cool night air. 

“I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I saw you again,” he whispered, his voice filled with that same vulnerability that he rarely let anyone see. “I just... didn’t know if I was allowed to.”

You laughed softly, your fingers still tangled in his. “You’re definitely allowed to,” you said, your voice cracking slightly with emotion. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that, too.”

Aaron looked at you then with an expression that you’d never seen on him before—like he was trying to memorize every detail of your face, like he couldn’t believe you were real. He cupped your cheek in his hand, his thumb gently stroking your skin. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said softly. “You make everything feel a little less... heavy.”

It was a warm evening, the kind where the world felt impossibly still, as if time itself had slowed just for the two of you. Aaron had walked you back to your dorm, his hand loosely clasped around yours. There was a softness in his gaze, a quiet understanding that neither of you had to rush—that this moment was yours, untouched by the outside world.

He kissed you again, the same gentle, tentative way he had the first time, his lips brushing against yours like a secret only you two were allowed to share. But tonight was different. There was an unspoken sense that something more was waiting—something both of you wanted, but neither of you was certain how to name.

In the dim light of your room, surrounded by the stillness of night, Aaron’s hands found yours. He held them carefully, as if they were made of something delicate. There was a nervousness in the air, but it was the kind that comes when something sacred is about to be shared—when the weight of the moment is felt by both people, heavy with meaning and laced with the vulnerability of first love.

You were both so young, still discovering the world and yourselves, yet in that moment, everything felt beautifully simple. He kissed you again, this time with more confidence but no less care. His touch was light, and reverent, as though he wanted to be sure every movement was one you welcomed.

“I’ve never done this before,” you whispered, your voice soft but steady, your heart racing beneath your skin. There was no shame in the confession, just honesty, the kind you knew you could share with him because Aaron made you feel safe, like there was nothing you couldn’t say.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. 

“Neither have I,” he admitted, his voice low, filled with a tenderness you hadn’t heard from him before. His eyes, normally so guarded, were open—vulnerable in a way that made your heart ache with affection.

He kissed you again, slow and deliberate, and this time, it felt like you were crossing a threshold together, one you both understood was important. There was no rush, no urgency—just the two of you, wrapped in the quiet wonder of the moment. His hands traced the outline of your skin with a gentle reverence, as if he was trying to memorize every curve, every inch, not for possession, but for the deep respect he held for you.

When the time came, it wasn’t rushed or uncertain. It felt natural, like an unspoken promise made long before this night. Aaron moved with the same care he’d shown you in every other moment—thoughtful, kind, attuned to you in a way that made you feel like he was giving you all of him, not just physically, but in every sense.

There was no awkwardness, no fear—just warmth and quiet intimacy. Every touch, every soft sigh between you felt like a conversation, like a love letter written in the language of gentle movements and shared breath. It was the kind of first time you always hoped it would be—filled with tenderness and respect, with Aaron looking at you as if he couldn’t believe you were real, as if he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to share this moment with you.

When it was over, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he held you close, your bodies tangled together, his forehead resting against yours, his breath soft against your skin. The silence between you was comfortable, filled with the kind of peace that comes from knowing you’d just shared something sacred.

“I’m glad it was you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, but filled with a quiet certainty that made your heart swell.

You smiled, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw. “Me too,” you replied, and at that moment, you knew—no matter where life took you, this night would always be something you carried with you. Not because it was perfect, but because it was real. 

But even in those moments, when it felt like it was just the two of you against the world, you could see the shadows that lingered in his eyes. 

Traces of Haley, the girl who had once been his entire world, the love he wasn’t sure he could ever let go of. He tried to hide it, but you knew him too well. You saw the flicker of doubt, the unresolved feelings that haunted him.

One evening, as you both sat on the steps of the library, your fingers still intertwined, you knew you couldn’t ignore the truth any longer. You turned to him, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. 

“Aaron,” you said gently, your voice tinged with a sadness you couldn’t quite hide, “I need to know that you’re sure about this—about us.”

He blinked, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked at you, confusion and fear flickering across his face. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

You forced a smile, trying to be brave even as your heart felt like it was breaking. “I know you’re here,” you said, squeezing his hand. “But I also know that part of you is still with her—with Haley. And I don’t think I can keep doing this if you’re not completely sure.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but you gently placed a finger against his lips, stopping him. 

“You deserve clarity, Aaron,” you said softly. “And I deserve someone who’s all in—someone who isn’t torn between two loves.”

His eyes filled with something that looked like pain, like he knew you were right but didn’t want to admit it. He reached up to hold your face in his hands, his touch trembling slightly. 

He sat silently for a moment, his fingers brushing over yours in a quiet, subtle gesture. There was no outpouring of emotion—only the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air between you. His gaze dropped to the ground, jaw tightening slightly as if he were battling something deep inside.

“I’m not good at this,” he said quietly, voice low and measured. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, steady but guarded, the calmness in his tone hiding the storm within. “I never have been.”

You held your breath, waiting. He didn’t pull you closer, didn’t let his voice betray the depth of whatever he was feeling. Instead, he allowed a small, rare vulnerability to slip through, in the only way Aaron Hotchner ever would.

“I made choices,” he continued, his voice carrying a quiet resignation. “And I’ll always stand by them.”

There was a pause, heavy with the years of unspoken history. His eyes softened, but his words were deliberate, cautious, as though each one had been carefully chosen before he spoke.

“But there are moments,” he admitted, barely above a whisper, “when I think about the path I didn’t take.”

The confession was understated—so much so that you almost missed it. But the weight of it was unmistakable. He didn’t need to elaborate. In his world, actions and silence often spoke louder than words.

You felt the familiar ache settle in your chest, knowing how difficult it was for him to even hint at such a thing. He wasn’t asking for forgiveness, nor was he asking for anything at all. This was Aaron’s way of telling you the truth, as much as he ever could, without unraveling the layers of control he’d spent a lifetime building.

“I’m not losing you,” you said softly, echoing his restraint. “I just need you to be sure.”

Hotch gave the smallest nod, his fingers brushing yours one last time before he let his hand fall away. He didn’t argue, didn’t try to convince you otherwise. It wasn’t in his nature to ask for what he thought he couldn’t have.

“Take care of yourself,” he said quietly, the walls slowly coming back up. And then, without another word, he stood, leaving behind only the lingering sense of something left unsaid.

Time flew by, but it also remained very still. 

Aaron sat at his dorm desk, the bright glow of the bulky computer monitor reflected back at him. His finger hovered over the “send” button on an email he had drafted to you—an apology, a confession, something to explain why he had been distant these past few weeks. But the words felt hollow, weighed down by a decision he wasn’t even sure he had made yet. 

The memory of late nights with you, laughing and sharing secrets, tugged at his mind, but it was Haley’s voice he heard on the phone, her quiet concern as she asked when he’d be home for the weekend.

He ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes. The truth was, he didn’t know how to do this—how to love two people at once, how to give pieces of himself when all he ever knew was how to give everything. 

With you, things were easy, and natural, but Haley was his anchor. She had been with him through every transition, every change, and she made sense in a way that was rooted in the stability he so desperately needed. She was safe, familiar. And in the midst of law school deadlines and the ever-present pressure of his father’s expectations, safety was all he could cling to.

In the end, it wasn’t just about Haley. It was about the life he was building—one with clear lines and fewer unknowns. 

The future with her was already mapped out, and his career was beginning to demand more of him. With each step he took toward becoming the man everyone expected him to be, the further you seemed to slip away, like a path he couldn’t walk anymore. 

So, he stayed with Haley, not because the choice was easy, but because it was necessary.

As the years passed, you poured yourself into your medical career, using the long hours and the intensity of trauma surgery to distract from the parts of your life that felt unfinished. The grueling schedule left little time for anything else, and that was just the way you preferred it. 

Each day in the hospital was a whirlwind of emergencies—broken bones, life-threatening injuries, and critical surgeries that demanded your full attention. 

The moments of quiet reflection, where Aaron’s face would drift into your thoughts, were few and fleeting, quickly swallowed by the next crisis. 

Your dedication earned you respect among your colleagues, promotions you hadn’t even sought, but with every success, there was a growing realization that you had built this life to keep yourself too busy to remember the one you left behind.

There was a fire lit under you, one that the long hours and, at-times, gruesome themes of your day seemed to fuel. There was an intensity in your line of work, one that you knew if Aaron was still a part of your life, would understand and want to soak up every aspect of each detail.

You would occasionally bump into each other over the years—at alumni events, around town, or at the rare social gathering you both happened to attend. The encounters were always polite, your smiles a little too tight, the conversations clipped and guarded. 

You both kept it surface-level, never daring to dig deeper into what you truly wanted to say. You’d ask how each other’s studies were going and exchange updates about life, but never once did you talk about what had happened between you, about the unspoken feelings that still seemed to linger in the air. Haley often would be by his side, you could tell she was supportive of his dreams and choices. 

The hardest moment was one evening at a crowded bar, the air buzzing with laughter and clinking glasses. You were there with friends, trying to unwind after a long week, when you saw Aaron walk in. 

For a split second, your heart leapt at the sight of him—until you noticed Haley by his side, her arm looped casually through his, her smile bright and untroubled. The sight of them together was like a punch to the gut, a sharp reminder of the choice you’d made to let him go.

What ached even more was the glint of matching gold bands on each of their ring fingers. It felt… final. The kind of final that left no room for second chances or what-ifs. You couldn’t help but think about the moments you’d shared with Aaron—the late-night conversations, the way he used to look at you like you were his safe harbor in the storm of his messy life. And now, here he was, seemingly settled, with someone else wearing the title you’d never been brave enough to claim.

Before you could make a quiet escape, they spotted you. Aaron’s eyes met yours across the room, widening slightly in surprise, and then he offered you that familiar smile—a smile that was polite and practiced but carried a hint of something you couldn’t quite read. Regret, maybe. Or a sadness that neither of you would ever speak aloud.

“Y/N, it’s so great to see you!” Haley said warmly, her voice genuine and open. She didn’t know, of course—didn’t know about the brief, intense history you’d shared with Aaron, didn’t know how much seeing them together was breaking your heart all over again.

You exchanged pleasantries, smiling and nodding at the right moments, trying to keep your composure even as your insides twisted into knots. Aaron’s smile was there, polite and distant, but in his eyes, you saw something different—a flicker of the past, a glimpse of the man who had once held your hand like he was afraid to let go. He looked like he wanted to say something, like there were words caught on the edge of his tongue that he couldn’t let fall in front of Haley.

Haley, ever the gracious host of the moment, excused herself to grab their drinks from the bar, leaving you alone with Aaron for a brief, excruciating moment. The noise of the bar seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in this small, fragile bubble of shared history.

Aaron’s gaze held yours for a second longer than it should have, his expression softening as if he were letting his guard down, if only for a heartbeat. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then he hesitated, his jaw tensing slightly. It was as if every word he wanted to say had gotten tangled in the space between his heart and his voice.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” he finally said, his voice almost a whisper. There was a distance in his tone, but also a trace of something he couldn’t quite hide—something raw, something aching. “You look… happy.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. 

“You too, Aaron,” you said, your voice faltering just a little. “You and Haley… you look perfect together.”

He didn’t say anything, just gave a small nod, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he wanted to protest, to say something real, something that wasn’t covered in layers of politeness. But instead, he just stood there, looking at you with eyes that seemed to carry the weight of everything left unspoken.

Haley returned with their drinks, her presence snapping Aaron back to the moment. He turned to her, his expression shifting instantly to something softer, more familiar—a version of himself that you hadn’t seen in a long time. As they walked away, laughing at something she said, you felt the sharp pang of regret settle deep in your chest. You couldn’t help but wonder—did you make a mistake all those years ago? Letting him go when you still had so much left to say?

Later that evening, in the quiet of their home, Haley turned to Aaron as they got ready for bed. Her smile from earlier had faded slightly, replaced by a hint of uncertainty that she tried to mask with a casual tone.

"She’s really beautiful, you know," Haley said, her voice light but carrying an edge that Aaron didn’t miss. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped in her lap, her gaze fixed on him as he unbuttoned his shirt.

Aaron paused, his movements slowing as he met Haley’s eyes. “Who?” he asked, though he knew exactly who she was talking about.

“Y/N,” Haley said, her voice a touch sharper now. “You two seemed close tonight. It was... almost like I was interrupting something.”

He let out a small sigh, more to himself than to her, and sat down next to her, his hands resting on his knees. "Haley," he started gently, “it’s not like that anymore. We’re just old friends.”

Haley turned to face him, her expression a mix of vulnerability and something else—fear, maybe, or insecurity. 

“Old friends?” she repeated, her voice barely masking the doubt. “Aaron, the way she looked at you—it didn’t seem like just ‘old friends.’ And I know you, Aaron. I know when you’re holding back.”

Aaron didn’t answer right away. He looked down at his hands, the silence between them heavy and complicated. He’d thought about this moment before wondered what it would be like to confront these feelings. 

“We had a past,” he admitted quietly, finally looking back at Haley. “She was important to me, and part of me never really let that go. But I chose you, Haley. I always chose you.”

Haley’s eyes softened for a moment, but there was still a flicker of pain in them, a hint of doubt that wouldn’t quite fade. “I always felt like I was competing with her, even when she wasn’t there,” Haley said, her voice quieter, more vulnerable. “Like you were with me because it was easy and safe, but with her... with her, it would’ve been something else.”

Aaron didn’t deny it; he couldn’t. He reached out and took her hand, holding it firmly. 

“You were never second best to me, Haley,” he said, his voice steady and sincere. “But back then, I wished—part of me wished she’d fought harder. I might have chosen differently if she’d asked me to. If she’d really asked me to stay,” Aaron paused, “But it never would have worked…it would have been a rash--impractical choice.”

Haley looked at him, a mixture of relief and hurt crossing her features, her grip tightening on his hand, like she was afraid to let go. 

And in that moment, Aaron knew that while he had chosen Haley, a part of him would always be haunted by the path he didn’t take, the one where you had asked him to choose you. And he would always wonder if you were the love that got away.

Years later, you found yourself deep into your medical internship, pulling grueling shifts at the hospital that left you bone-tired but determined. 

The last thing you expected was to cross paths with Aaron Hotchner again, especially on a day as monumental as the birth of his child.

You were on your way to check on another patient when you noticed a familiar figure pacing outside one of the maternity rooms. It was Aaron, but not as you remembered him. 

He looked different—older, more tired, but also lit up from within like he was holding the entire universe in his hands. His hair was slightly disheveled, and his tie was loosened around his neck, but there was a brightness in his eyes that you hadn't seen in years.

He stopped short when he saw you, his face a mix of exhaustion, surprise, and something softer—like he was relieved to see a familiar face in the chaos of the moment.

"Y/N?" he said, almost as if he couldn’t believe you were standing there.

“Aaron,” you said, offering him a gentle smile. 

The last time you’d seen him was under such different circumstances, and now here he was, a thousand emotions flickering across his face.

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes searching yours as if he needed to anchor himself to something real. 

“Haley just had the baby,” he said, his voice filled with awe and a hint of disbelief, as though he was still trying to wrap his mind around it. "It's a boy. His name's Jack."

Your heart softened at the mention of Jack, imagining Aaron as a father, this new role that seemed to suit him so perfectly. You knew how much he’d always wanted a family, how much he valued loyalty and protection, and now he had both those things wrapped up in this tiny new life.

A genuine smile spread across your face despite the tightness in your chest. “Congratulations, Aaron,” you said, your voice warm and sincere. “How’s Haley? How’s Jack?”

“They’re both perfect,” he said, but even as he said the words, you could see the turmoil beneath the surface—the way his mind was racing, already thinking of everything he needed to do to be the best husband and father he could be. He was still Aaron, always planning ahead, always trying to protect those he loved.

Without thinking, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him in a gentle hug. For a split second, you worried he might pull away, but instead, he let out a shaky breath and wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly. 

His grip was firm, like he needed this moment of connection as much as you did, like he was drawing strength from the familiarity of your embrace.

“You’re going to be a great dad, Aaron,” you whispered softly against his shoulder. “Jack’s so lucky to have you.”

He held you for a moment longer, and you felt the way his shoulders relaxed, just a bit, as if the weight of the world on them had lightened for a second. 

When he finally pulled back, he didn’t let go immediately. His hands lingered on your arms, his eyes locked onto yours, and there was something in his gaze that made your breath catch—a mix of gratitude, vulnerability, and something unspoken that neither of you dared to voice.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. He looked at you like he was memorizing the moment, like he didn’t want to forget the way it felt to have you close again.

You gave him a small, sad smile as he finally let his hands drop, the connection between you two still lingering in the air. For a moment, it felt like no time had passed, like you were the only two people in the world standing in that hospital corridor.

“I need to get back to them,” he said, his tone shifting instantly to the steady, composed one you were so familiar with. “Haley and Jack are waiting.”

The moment was gone, and his focus had returned to where it always was—his family. Even as you offered him a small smile, knowing that this was the man he had become, you could see that his world revolved around something far more important than any lingering emotions between you two.

He gave you a nod, something unspoken passing between you—an acknowledgment of the past, but nothing that could shift the priorities of the present. Without another word, he turned and left, his strides purposeful as he made his way back to his family, to the life he had chosen to protect above all else.

As you watched him walk away, you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly he slipped back into his role—the one that mattered most. Aaron Hotchner wasn’t a man to be distracted, not when it came to the people who depended on him the most.

As you stood in that empty corridor, you tried to tell yourself that letting him go all those years ago had been the right choice—that he was exactly where he needed to be, with the family he’d always dreamed of. But even as you reminded yourself of that, you couldn’t shake the feeling of bittersweet longing, the ache of knowing that sometimes, the right choices still hurt the most.

A few days later, after yet another long shift at the hospital, you found yourself alone in the on-call room, your mind still buzzing with the image of Aaron holding his newborn son. The way he looked at you, the way his touch lingered—it all played on a loop in your head, refusing to let you rest.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you powered on your computer and began typing. You weren’t sure what you hoped to accomplish by reaching out to him, but the words poured out of you as if they’d been waiting all this time.

To: aaron.hotchner@fbi.gov Subject: It Was Good to See You

Hi Aaron,

I know it's been a while since we last spoke, but seeing you at the hospital the other day brought back a lot of memories. I just wanted to say that I'm so happy for you and Haley. Jack is lucky to have you as his dad—I always knew you’d be incredible at that.

I’m not really sure what I’m trying to say here, or why I’m even writing this, to be honest. Maybe it’s just that seeing you again reminded me of a time when things were simpler, or maybe I just wanted to reach out because I didn’t get the chance to say everything I wanted to that day.

I know our lives took us in different directions, and I’m glad you’ve found so much joy with your family. But I guess a part of me will always wonder what might have been if things had turned out differently.

Anyway, I hope you’re doing well, and that fatherhood is everything you hoped it would be. I won’t keep you, I just—well, I just wanted to let you know that I’m really glad we crossed paths again, even for a moment.

Take care, Aaron.

Best, Y/N

You hesitated for a long moment, staring at the words you’d typed, debating whether to hit send. There was a part of you that was terrified of what this email might mean—how it might complicate things, reopen old wounds that had never fully healed. But there was another part of you, the part that had seen that familiar look in Aaron's eyes at the hospital, that knew you couldn’t keep silent any longer.

With a deep breath and a leap of faith, you clicked "send" before you could second-guess yourself. As the email disappeared from your screen, you felt a strange mix of relief and vulnerability wash over you, like you’d just opened a door you weren’t sure you were ready to walk through.

You didn’t know how Aaron would react when he saw your name in his inbox, or if he’d even reply at all. But you knew that at that moment, you couldn’t hold back anymore. You had to reach out, even if it was just to say that you hadn’t forgotten, that you never really let go.

What you didn’t know was that when Aaron read your message later that night, sitting alone in his dimly lit office, the weight of your words hit him harder than he expected. He read each line with a mix of longing and regret, feeling the past rush back to him in a way that made his chest tighten.

He wanted to respond, to tell you that seeing you again had stirred up all the emotions he’d buried for the sake of moving forward. But he hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keyboard, because he wasn’t sure he could say what he really felt—not when his life was still so complicated, still so tied to the promises he’d made to Haley and Jack.

There was a part of him that completely shamed himself for even wanting to keep the door open with you. It was not if he was still waiting by the open entryway, but something was comforting knowing it was ajar. 

But he knew one thing for certain: seeing you at the hospital that day had made him realize that some doors never really close. And no matter how far life pulled you both apart, there was always a part of him that would find its way back to you.

And so he saved your email, tucked it away in the corner of his heart where he kept all the things he wasn’t ready to face. But he kept it, just like he kept that old photo of you two on his bookshelf at the BAU—a reminder of the love that never really went away.

And though he didn’t reply, he knew, deep down, that one day he would. He had to.

Because this time, he didn’t want to let you go.

Time passed and you’d finally established yourself as a respected doctor, life had taken you far from the familiar places where you and Aaron once crossed paths. 

You were working at a renowned hospital across the country, building your career in a place far from the echoes of your shared past. You'd settled into this new life, convincing yourself that the memories of Aaron Hotchner were just that—memories locked away in a chapter you’d closed long ago.

But late at night, when the world was quiet, and you found yourself alone with a few too many glasses of wine, the memories would come rushing back. 

You’d think about Aaron—about the way he used to smile at you, the warmth of his touch, the late-night conversations that felt like they could change everything. You’d wonder where he was and what he was doing if he ever thought of you the way you still thought of him--why he never answered your email.

In those moments, you couldn’t help but feel like the universe had let something slip through your fingers, like you’d lost a piece of yourself you could never entirely replace.

It had only been a few months since his divorce was finalized, but Aaron Hotchner’s mind wasn’t just on the past he’d left behind with Haley. It was on you—the email you’d sent, the memories that kept resurfacing late at night when the world went quiet.

One evening, after hours at the BAU, Hotch found himself in Garcia’s tech-filled lair. She looked up, surprised to see him, especially at that hour.

“Sir?” she asked, her cheerful tone softening as she picked up on his serious demeanor.

He hesitated, fingers tapping lightly on the edge of her desk. “Garcia... could you look someone up for me?”

Garcia blinked, her curiosity piqued. “Of course. Just name the person.”

"Y/N L/N," he said quietly, the name falling softly from his lips. “We went to college together. I’m just... curious where she is now.”

Garcia’s hands hovered over the keyboard, her usual enthusiasm tempered by the weight of his request. She could tell from his tone that this wasn’t a casual inquiry. “Got it, sir,” she said, quickly typing the name into her system. “What do you want to know?”

“Just... how she’s doing.” His voice was quieter than usual, laced with an undercurrent that hinted at more than mere curiosity.

A few moments passed as Garcia sifted through information, her screens flashing with data. After a beat, she spoke, her voice soft, almost hesitant. “Looks like she’s doing really well, actually. She’s a doctor now. Trauma surgeon. She’s worked at some big hospitals.” 

Hotch’s eyes flickered, something tightening in his chest. You were no longer close by--off across the country, living a completely separate life. One he was fully realizing he knew nothing about. 

Garcia continued, sensing the weight of her words. “No social networking accounts, but a few mentions in medical journals and hospital reports. Seems like she’s been doing some important work. Looks like she’s running the show over there.”

Hotch nodded, trying to process the flood of information. A part of him felt a strange sense of pride at how far you’d come, but there was also a quiet ache—a reminder of how much time had passed, how much you’d both changed.

Garcia glanced up, watching him closely. “I could dig deeper if you want,” she offered gently, unsure if she should ask more.

“No,” Hotch said quickly, shaking his head. “That’s enough. Thank you, Garcia.”

As he turned to leave, Garcia watched him, biting back the questions swirling in her mind. She’d never seen Hotch so affected by a simple request. Whatever history the two of you shared, it was clear it still lingered in the quiet corners of his life.

“Sir,” she called after him, her voice softer than usual. “If you ever need to talk about it... you know where to find me.”

Hotch gave her a small nod, acknowledging her kindness but not yet ready to let his guard down. “Thanks, Garcia.”

As he walked away, he couldn’t shake the thoughts of you from his mind. You were close—closer than he’d ever imagined—and yet, the years between you felt like a chasm he wasn’t sure how to cross.

It was a cold, rainy afternoon when he walked into your life again. You were deep into your rounds when you saw him standing at the end of the hall—tall, composed, his FBI badge clipped to his belt and his expression sharp with focus. 

He looked different now—older, more world-weary, with a gravity about him that spoke of everything he’d seen, everything he’d endured. He’d been through a divorce; you knew that much. You'd heard whispers about it through mutual acquaintances, the news traveling back to you like a ghost from the past.

He was there to interview one of your patients, a victim in a high-stakes investigation, the kind of case that left a wake of devastation. 

You watched as he spoke to his team, his words calm and precise, every movement controlled. But then his gaze shifted, and when his eyes met yours, something in his expression softened. 

For a moment, it was like you were back in college again—two people who once knew every secret of each other’s hearts.

“Y/N,” he said, the sound of your name on his lips pulling you out of the haze of memory. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—surprise, relief, and a warmth that chased away the storm clouds that seemed to follow him everywhere.

“Aaron,” you replied, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “What brings you to this side of the country?”

He let out a small, almost rueful laugh, a sound you hadn’t heard in years. “Work, as always,” he said, a hint of resignation in his voice. “Seems like it never stops.”

You nodded, searching his face for traces of the man you used to know. “You look... different,” you said softly. “Older. Tired, maybe. But it suits you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “That’s not exactly a compliment, but I’ll take it,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with the faintest hint of mischief. Then, more seriously, he added, “You, on the other hand, look exactly the same. Like time hasn't touched you at all.”

A small laugh escaped your lips, and for a second, the years seemed to fall away. 

“You always were a terrible liar,” you said, shaking your head slightly, but there was a softness in your voice that hinted at something more—something neither of you was quite ready to name.

There was a moment of silence between you, the kind that was heavy with words left unsaid. He looked like he wanted to say something, to bridge the gap between the person he was now and the person he used to be when he was with you. But then, just like always, duty called, and he had to turn back to the demands of the case.

When the investigation finally wrapped up, you found yourself alone in the break room, the hum of the vending machine the only sound in the otherwise quiet space. You were reaching for a cup of coffee when you saw it—Aaron’s business card tucked carefully under your mug. 

His number was scribbled on the back in neat handwriting, with a simple note: Call me sometime if you want to catch up. –Aaron

You stared at the card for a long time, tracing the letters of his name with your fingertips, the feel of the paper grounding you in a reality you hadn’t quite expected. Your mind was a whirl of memories—of late-night study sessions, of the way his hand felt when it held yours, of every stolen glance and every smile that hinted at something just out of reach.

You felt a pang in your chest, a longing you’d tried to bury long ago but was now resurfacing with a vengeance. You knew that if you called him, it wouldn’t just be about catching up. It would be about opening doors that you thought you’d closed for good. It would be about facing the fact that, even after all these years and all the distance between you, some part of you had never really let him go.

As you slipped the card into your pocket, you felt a mix of hope and fear, like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing that if you jumped, there’d be no going back. You looked down at the number, knowing that one call could change everything, that this could be the start of something or the end of whatever you’d been holding onto all these years.

Before you could overthink it, the door to the break room opened, and Aaron walked in, his eyes locking onto yours like he was searching for something—some kind of answer.

“I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye,” he said quietly, his voice low and intimate in the small space. He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving your face. “I meant it, you know. About calling me.”

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. “You think about the past often?” you asked, your voice gentle but with an edge of vulnerability you couldn’t quite hide.

He looked at you, the kind of look that seemed to strip away all the years, all the distance between you. “More than I probably should,” he admitted, his voice a little rough around the edges. “I think about you more than I should.” His words were simple, but the intensity behind them was anything but.

You felt your breath hitch, your pulse quickening at the confession. The yearning in his eyes was unmistakable, a mirror of your own feelings that you’d been too afraid to voice. And in that moment, you both knew that this wasn’t the end—it was just the beginning of something that had always been waiting for the right moment to come to life.

It was now, when the world was so chatoic for Aaron--Haley and Jack in protective custody and a killer out there tormenting his every move, he could use an anchor like you. He meant every word he said. He wanted you to call. He couldn’t share this information with you, but he hoped this card was the olive branch…the white flag waving for where he couldn’t place words. 

Before he turned to leave, he reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary. 

“Take care, Y/N,” he said softly, and the way he said it felt like a promise, like he was telling you that this wasn’t goodbye, not really.

You watched him walk away, and this time, you felt different. This time, you knew you held his number in your pocket, the promise of a future that might finally align with the pieces of your past.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

[holylulusworld]

Their Bride (Snippet 1) - Kinktober 28

Summary: You always dreamed of letting your dirtiest fantasies become reality. Your men made your dream come reality.

Pairing: fem!Reader x Nick Fowler, Ari Levinson, Lloyd Hansen, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Warnings: mentions past consensual non-con/dub-con roleplay, kidnapping, multiple partners,  mentions of sex tape, mentions of callboys/prostitution

Trope: Post-coitus moment

A/N:  A short follow up to: Best bridesmaid ever

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2024

“Just relax, lean back, and enjoy how we dismantle your ex.”

Lean back and relax, Ari said, while you tried to wrap your head around the situation. Not moments before they revealed their true identities, you believed your bridesmaid and best friend hired the most handsome and best callboys walking on earth.

The fulfillment of your secret desires still lingered in the back of your mind. Memories flashed up, bringing back every moment of desire and lust.

Did their true identity change your desire for them after all of them gave you what your body and mind were craving? You pondered when Ari stepped back inside the room to hand you a cup of your favorite tea.

“I can see the wheels in your head spinning,” he said, sitting opposite you in an old armchair, while you watched him with curiosity. This man did unspeakable things to you and your body but looked almost shy when you stared at him. “We never said that we are callboys, sweetness. You gave in to our demands so easily; we just went with the flow. At first, we only wanted to scare you a little and fuck with your finance’s mind.”

“What?” You gaped at Ari. Did he just make it sound like they didn’t lie to you? “You made me believe you’re the callboys my friend hired.”

“Baby cakes, do you honestly believe guys like us offered their dicks for money?” Lloyd chuckles as you try to not throw the cup of tea at him. “My meat is a filet mignon, not a cheap burger.”

“Hansen, you’re not helpful. Not at all,” Ari grunted. “We should explain our plan to her. Y/N is not a pretty doll you can use and put in a corner.”

“Oh, Levinson,” Lloyd plopped down on the couch next to you. “I won’t ever put my muffin into a corner. I’ll make her scream my name any time of the day.” His hand crept up the nightgown they offered you this morning, one of many designer clothes they got for you. “Right, sunshine. You loved it when I got down on you to tickle your clit with my mustache.”

“Lloyd!” Steve snapped at the man next to you. “We wanted to talk, not bend her over the couch too. Let’s finish her ex-fiancé off before we get to her naughty cunt again.”

“Doll, are we having a party?” Bucky strolled into the room, Nick hot on his heels. They sipped at their coffee while undressing you with their eyes. Similar eyes, turning you into a puddle of goo whenever they look at you. “What do you want me to do to you today?”

“Get your shit together. No sex this morning. If we want to hit Walker hard and fast, we must do it now. Let’s give him a taste of his own medicine. I want him to suffer through every scream and moan we forced out of his lovely fiancé.”

You watched Ari take over the lead. He wildly gestured while talking, making you whimper more than once. You barely listened to what he had to say. These five men fulfilled your darkest desires and offered a new life to you within the same heartbeat.

How could you ever go back to a normal life? What would you tell anyone? That you let these five men, members of the mob on top of all, do unspeakable things to you?

You’re ruined in more than one way.

“How about you enjoy the show, cupcake?” Lloyd said, and wrapped one arm around your shoulders. “Later, you can enjoy more of me. Let’s sneak out and do it outside like the animals.”

“Lloyd!” Steve snapped his fingers in Lloyd’s face. He was done with Lloyd’s endless appetite for you and the noises you made for the mustache-wearing bastard. “Stop thinking with your dick for once, will ya.”

“Let us have our fun. We already fucked Walker over by fucking his lovely bride. He still thinks she’s going to marry him. How about you stab him in the back and twist the knife?”

“I prepared everything,” a new face stepped into the room. A cocky guy with glasses and spiky dark blonde hair. He was wearing a pink shirt with an imprint saying go petunias.

You would’ve giggled at his outfit, but he switched a large monitor on and talked about hacking into John’s system and other things you don’t understand.

“Alright,” he said. “A livestream would’ve been much funnier, but this will do too.” He dipped his head to look your way. His cheeks turned red, and he gasped loudly. “Oh, she’s here.”

“Stop staring at our girl,” Nick warned before pointing his index finger at him. “Get the job done. We don’t have all day.”

“Name’s Jake,” he said, instead of doing his job. He flashed you a smile, making you giggle. You could imagine turning him into your sweet puppy. A stark contrast to the roughness your other men provide.

“Jensen, do your job!” Ari barked at Jake. “I want results, and I want them now!”

“Here we go,” Jake said. He typed away on the keyboard, starting a countdown. You watched John on the monitor. His phone rang, and he got a message to switch his laptop on.

John sat down on his expensive leather chair and switched the laptop on. Jake immediately took control of the laptop, easily hacking into the computer.

Moments later, you could hear the scene you remembered so well unfold once again. Your moans and the men barking orders at you filled your ears as John grabbed his laptop to smash it against the wall.

“Hah, as if this would stop me!” Jake snickered. “Let’s drive him insane.”

Tags in reblog.

[harksness]

No Going Back CH 2

A/N: ok stick with me thru this there's gonna be some delicious Agatha moments soon but I gotta set up some tension first thank u <3

WC: 2.8k

Your mother lies below your little feet. She's twisting, turning, the carpet scrunching under her body with her desperate movements as she looks up at you with wide, pained eyes.

And there he is above her. A man that's so familiar, but you don't know what he looks like. Tall and looming, just completely a shadow.

With her final breath she choked out a spell and reaches a weak hand towards you, and you feel her warm, soft magic washing over you in comforting waves.

That was the moment you realized that everyone has a piece of themselves in their magic. As the shadowed man scooped you up you screamed, slapping and scratching but too powerless to stop him.

His magic felt like a knife, a sharp, serrated edge. Like barbed wire dragging over your skin as his magic tore into you, then tore deeper and deeper, down into something that wasn't even a physical part of you. He was reaching for your magic. That untapped well of vibrant blue power inside of you, he was clawing and tearing his way through you to get to it.

But he couldn't cut deep enough. He couldn't reach.

He kept trying to force it deeper, you could feel the pull as he kept desperately trying to rip it from your chest like your beating heart, but he just couldn't reach it.

Your mind went numb as you screamed and cried until your voice was gone, just a desperate wheeze as you waited for it to end.

He didn't stop trying for a long time.

You just stared at your mother, her wide, lovely eyes that had long since gone cold. Waiting for that serrated edge to finally cut deep enough and sever that last little string tethering you to reality.

But it never did.

And he's still waiting. Still trying.

Your eyes fly open and a groggy shout bursts past your lips as you jolt forward, desperately trying to escape your nightmare. Your chest heaves, deep breaths tearing through your throat as you take in your surroundings.

The light shining through the window blinds you for a moment and intensifes the pain pounding against your skull. Your rapidly thrumming heart starts to slow at the realization that you're safe.

You take calculated, deep breaths to calm yourself down. With each one you feel it eating away at the fear and anxiety, swallowing hard as you do your best to shrug off the nightmare.

This is a normal part of your morning routine.

That shadowed man comes to you in your dreams every night. Even on the rare occasions where he's not the main focus, you see him and feel his presence. Standing in the background, lingering in a doorway, always watching you, always waiting to finish what he started all of those years ago when he left you for dead in your own home next to your mother's body.

That man haunts your dreams and ensures you never forget what happened. He makes sure you know that he hasn't forgotten about you.

That he's still waiting.

The door opens and you turn your head to the source of the noise, eyes fluttering desperately at the pain crushing around your skull and throbbing against your shoulder. Your stepmother enters the room, and you feel as if you can breathe a bit easier at the sight of her.

Her eyes widen when she sees you sitting awake and staring at her.

"Oh thank goodness, you're awake!"

She rushes to your side, fussing over you and your injuries.

"How do you feel?"

You groan out in pain, cradling your damaged arm to your chest.

"Not good.. Why does everything hurt.."

You wheeze out and she's moving to the nightstand as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to get rid of the pain in your skull and the spinning all around you.

"You have a concussion.. And a sprained shoulder, sweetheart.. Here, take these."

You open your eyes just a crack to look at her and you notice her holding out two little pills in her palm and a glass of water. You suddenly realize how thirsty you are as you take the medicine from her, downing them and the full glass of water in a few greedy gulps. She takes the glass from you when you're done.

That's when you feel stable enough to really be able to take in your surroundings, having adjusted a bit to the pain suffocating you in dull throbs. You're in the guest bedroom of your childhood home, but it feels more like a hospital with the blank white walls, white bed frame, and white sheets and blankets. The only bit of color is in the wooden floor, dresser and door, but that's about it. It makes you a bit uneasy as you clear your throat.

"What happened?"

Your voice is scratchy as you speak but she doesn't look at you, eyes set firmly on the sheets covering your lap and features heavy with upset.

"Your father will explain that."

She grumbles, disappointment lacing her voice as she goes to stand.

"Please.."

You beg, mustering up the most desperate look you can. She finally looks at you, guilt heavy on her features as she sighs out your name softly, smoothing down her skirt as she goes to sit on the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry. Please know that I wasn't happy about how your father decided to go about this. I tried to talk him out of it, but, well.. You know how he gets."

You nod your head in understanding. The two of you have never been exceptionally close, she has four of her own biological children to worry about, but she's always looked out for you and been kind. She's even stood up to your father for you when it was needed. You've always been grateful for her.

"I understand.. I know him and I know you.. Please, tell me."

Reluctantly, she starts, analyzing your features carefully with every word that slips past her lips.

"Look.. I think this would be best coming from your father. But I know how bad he is about handling these sorts of things, so I'm going to give you a precursor..."

She twists her hands nervously while you hold your breath, waiting for her to speak, your mind running a mile a minute over every possible thing she could be about to say.

"Someone has been targeting the firstborns of the elder families.."

Your heart drops into your stomach.

"We think-"

"It's him?"

You can't help but interrupt her, panic freezing your insides as fear numbs your mind. Carefully, she nods her head.

"It could be.."

She says softly, speaking to you like she's handling the worlds most breakable glass as you seize up.

"We don't know for sure yet.."

You don't hesitate a second longer, that fear flinging your mind into panic mode as you push the blankets off of your lap and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You hiss out in pain, your shoulder heavy and aching and your skull throbbing, but you push through it. Your stepmother is trying to stop you, but not knowing how to physically do so without hurting you more.

A wave of dizziness washes over you once your bare feet are planted on the cool wooden floor, the room spinning as she keeps you steady. You balance yourself on the nightstand, cluttered with water and the contents of a first aid kit as you heave out breaths, desperately trying to keep your head from spinning as you sway on your feet.

"Please! Sit back down!"

You squeeze your eyes shut, ignoring her words. She yells out as the table collapses under your weight, tipping over and dumping all of its contents onto the ground with a prolonged crash. By some miracle you stay standing, and she's rushing to clean up the mess once she has you balancing against the bed.

The second she's turned away from you, you're clumsily dashing for the door.

It bursts open, and you immediately find the wall opposite the door to keep you steady as you venture down the hallway. Pressing your palm into the smooth wall over and over with each clumsy step, you do your best to support yourself as your stepmother calls from behind.

You know where you'll find your father. He never leaves his damn office. He's always either there, or away on some sort of business trip for his stupid coven.

Anger seeps through your body with every heavy breath, or maybe it's just the nausea.

That's where he was when your mother died. When you were attatcked. On a trip.

You freeze when you hear your fathers voice on the other side of the door. Your features twist in anger as you raise your good hand and aggressively pound your fist against the door, rattling it on its hinges with every rough slam.

The door flings open a moment later and there he is.

"What are you doing!?"

He gasps, shock evident in his voice when he sees you swaying on your feet, eyes flickering over your body as he takes in just how battered you are.

"Tell me what the fuck is going on!"

Your voice booms off the walls. It would've startled you if you were able to think coherently, but your mind still feels clouded and fuzzy. You've never sounded like this before, so much rage and fear seeping into every syllable that bursts past your lips.

Your chest heaves, and your face feels hot as you wait for him to reply, the only sound you hear is the pounding on your head.

"Is he back?"

This time, you sound weaker as your voice cracks and breaks into a soft sob, your features twisting with fear. You can tell he's barely suppressing a look of annoyance as he sighs, stepping out into the hallway.

"We don't know. I promise I would tell you if we knew for certain."

His voice is soft as he speaks, folding his hands in front of him. He regards you with soft eyes, ones you rarely get to see. In this moment, you're seeing a version of your father you wish you knew. You let out a shaky breath.

"Okay, so, what was last night about, then? Wanna dump more trauma onto my plate? Give me more reasons why I can't sleep at night?"

You feel one of your knees trembling beneath you as your body struggles to hold your weight, voice soft and shaky with the effort to hold back your impending sobs. He sets his lips into a firm line, and you hear your stepmother rushing down the hall to join you.

You close your eyes for a moment, breathing deeply as you do your best to steady yourself. You need to be coherent to discuss this. So you clench your shaking fists, and breathe.

"What does this have to do with what happened last night?"

Your voice is more firm and steady. Your stepmother and father cast their gazes to each other at your words.

"Just tell her."

Your stepmother demands, glaring at your father. He let's out a deep sigh.

"Well.. I can't personally keep you safe. The Elder Coven and I are going to figure out what to do about this man. So.. You need someone powerful who can dedicate around the clock service to protecting you."

It feels as if he's racing to get the words out, no emotion behind his monotonous tone. Your features scrunch up in confusion, not understanding anything but catching on to what he's trying to say.

"Okay.. You make that sound like it's Agatha Harkness but it's obviously not. She's a power hungry maniac too, you know.. That's kinda her whole thing. That's why she attacked me last night."

You scoff the words out, deadpan. Silence weighs heavy around the house, only being cut through by the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway until your father speaks up, voice soft.

"Not if we force her into a pact bound by magic."

He looks just a bit too smug and proud of himself, while for you it feels like your entire world is being flipped on its head. You gape at the man, unbelieving of what you just heard.

"No. No way... Are you fucking kidding me!?"

You should have known better. Being away for so long has distanced you from just how manipulative this man really is. Of course he would do something like this "to protect you", but you can see through all of his layers of bullshit. You don't trust him or Agatha for a second.

"You can come out, Agatha."

You freeze at his words. There's some shuffling, then there she is, pulling the door to your fathers office open as she goes to lean against the doorframe. She's wearing normal clothes now, a purple sweater and her hair tied up in a bun that's plopped on top of her head. She raises her hand and gives you a small wave by wiggling a few of her fingers.

"Hiya hun."

That's when you go absolutely fucking ballistic.

"Oh fuck no!"

You shout, shaking your head. Immediately, your father and stepmother start rushing out words to try and calm you down, but you're having none of it.

"You seriously expect me to be able to trust her with my life!? The woman who just gave me a concussion and sprained my shoulder?!"

Your voice strains as you yell, gesturing towards the brown haired woman. Her eyes widen and she makes an awkward face, blue eyes shifting around the hallway as she avoids your gaze.

"What were you going to do if she tried to kill me? What if she got away with the necklace that keeps me alive! Hm!?"

You hook your thumb against the chain around your neck, pulling the pendant upwards to draw attention towards it.

"That wasn't going to happen. I was monitoring the situation very closely, we just needed to wait long enough to ensure that she was trapped and fully distracted-"

Groaning loudly in frustration, a wave of nausea washes over you as you begin to sway on your feet. You open your mouth to keep ranting and raving, unaware of just how lightheaded you're getting as you blink rapidly. Your father steps towards you, reaching out a nervous hand.

"You know what? Never mind. This is bullshit. There's no use arguing with a narcissistic prick like you."

You point to your father aggressively, stumbling over your own two feet and your stepmother gasps, rushing to your side. The carpet is scratchy against your skin, the dull, white walls blurring and smudging together with the little bit of color surrounding you.

"You need to go lay down-"

"Don't pretend like you care about me now! After leaving me alone when mom died, after putting my life in danger, stop pretending like you care about me other than what I offer you as the firstborn of this stupid fucking family!"

You shout, the words tearing through your throat and spit flying wildly as you gesture your good hand around to accent your words. You're out of breath, heaving deeply as you desperately try to look more composed than you actually are. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment as your father and Agatha's features start to blur with the walls.

"I feel like I shouldn't be hearing any of this-"

Agatha speaks awkwardly, but you're quick to cut her off.

"Shut up!"

Your voice is unrecognizable, anger twisting the words as they tear out of your throat. You point an angry finger at her to accent your shout, and she quirks a shocked eyebrow curiously at your harsh tone, pressing her lips together and raising her hands to signal her surrender. Your stepmother goes to guide you away from them, muttering soft reassurances to try and calm you down. You're stumbling on your feet as she guides you back down the hall.

Turning your head to peek over your shoulder, you spit one last vitriolic line at your father.

"If I end up dead, it's all your fault."

Your nightmares are coming back to life, and your biggest fears are being turned into a reality. That shadowed man really has been watching you all this time. And he's coming back to finish what he started all those years ago.

And all you can do is watch and wait helplessly.

[starsomens]

Warnings: Lab partners to lovers! Sex in a medical research lab, desk, PiV sex, spit in mouth(once), friends to lovers type, language, Noah goes from shy to dominant >:) and of course I had some inspiration help from @gretaswhore28 ✨

"uggghhhh" you groan leaning back from your microscope. You had been looking at sample all day trying to put together an explanation for the reaction it was having to certain medicines. You lean back in your chair and rub at your eyes

"You're gonna end up straining your vision you know," you lab partner, Noah chimes in

"I've been working on this for nearly 2 weeks! I keep getting the same results" you sigh "Maybe I should have a break"

"Oh wow she's actually taking my advice for once" he said sarcastically

You spin in your chair and stare at the tall man. His neck tattoos peeking up past his collar, his perfectly combed hair and dorky glasses. For someone who had his neck and hands covered in tattoos he tends to be quiet and shy. Almost all the other girls on the floor would try and flirt with him or try hitting on him, but the poor boy was just so shy, it honestly was very cute. You liked teasing him about just to see him all flustered

"hey I take you advice, you're the one who doesn't" you chuckle standing from your seat

"Oh yeah? Like what?" he asks leaning on his desk crossing his arms. You think for a moment

"hmmm....well...like how maybe you should roll your sleeve up because EVERYONE wants to know just how tattooed you are" you Walk to him and give him that knowing look

"Y/N, they could just ask and I have pictures,"

"yeah but in person, on the skin! It's different" he thinks for a second and takes his lab coat off leaving him in his button down baby blue shirt. You were smiling knowing you had gotten to him, that was until you felt something drilling into your head. Looking up you can see him just staring at you, once you caught his eyes you stare right back at him. Almost as if you froze in place.....his stare was....hypnotizing and....petrifying but.... alluring.

"Well, there you go. I take you advice so well," he lets his shirt fall to the floor leaving him in a white tank top “I did it on the spot”

“DAMN!” You didn’t mean to say it so loud, you hustled weren’t expecting to see him COVERED in tattoos “sorry I didn’t mean that they look….good..”

He holds his arm out “you can look closer if you want. You take a picture of his arm and start to trace some of the drawings on his skin. Whoever had tattooed him had done an amazing job. They were so detailed and beautiful. You hadn’t even realized that your touch was lingering on his skin.

“You like that princess?” He said in a hush voice

“Hu-?”

“ maybe I heard a couple things about you liking certain person here..” now it was his turn to tease you “ don’t think I haven’t noticed how you stare at me, or my hands whenever work, I noticed everything” he suddenly pushes your waist to the side and switches place with you. You were now against the desk and him in front of you.

"I-I....what? You're one to believe rumors Noah?" you asked clearly flustered

"I didn't but then I noticed your patterns. The way you'd dress, your perfume, how we always end up staying at work at the same times?" he smirks leaning into you "Am I right, princess?"

"I...I....it's just coincidence!" you defend yourself

"so why are you so red?" he leans into your ear, feeling his body heat radiating on to yours, you were just about to crack but as you were he pulls back and grabs his shirt from the floor

"But you're right, why should I believe rumors? Afterall it's people making things up because they're bored "he says as he puts his arms through the sleeves. Not only were you flustered and embarrassed now you were pissed.

"We should get packed up and head home for the night-" both your hands grab his loose collar and pull him to you and you look him dead in the eye

"You think I'd let you get away with that?" you crash your lips on his to which he returns the kiss. The kiss turns into something passionate and lust filled in just seconds. He lifts you on to the desk, knocking over a pen holder. His hands find your bare knees and push your skirt up your legs until the fabric sit over your hips. His lips trace down your face and to your neck, he rips open your shirt, causing the buttons to scatter on the floor

"Hey-"

"I'll buy you a new one" he kisses and nips at the valley of your breasts, making sure to leave a mark or two on them.

"You don't know....how long...I've wanted this" he says between kisses. Bring you to the edge of the desk, he stands between your legs And holds both your legs on either side of his body as he leans down against you.

" I can feel you soaking through your panties. You've been wanting this too, haven't you?" he chuckled

"Mmmm" his fingers, find your chin and make you look up at him

“Words princess,”

“Y-yes…” you can feel his bulge rubbing against you soon you were able to feel how wet you were yourself.

“That’s my good girl,” he kisses your nose “can I Y/N? Can I make you feel good?” He asks and you give him a shakes nod. Without breaking eye contact, he unbuckles his belt, and rips his pants enough to get himself out of his confinements. He pushes your panties aside and rubs the head of his cock up and down your slit.

“So wet…just for me,” his other hand, held your leg up by the back of your knee as he pushes himself in bottoming out in one go. You both sigh heavily from the feeling of him being inside you. A shiver ran through your body as he taking the situation. Here you were on your partners desk, leg spread, and his cock inside of you.

He pulls out nearly all the way and plunges back in again

“Oh fuck!” He starts to thrust into you at a rhythm. The quiet lap filled with erotic sounds of sex. Your head was thrown back as nose lips dig into the column of your neck. Nipping and licking at the skin.

“Good….so fucking good for me.” He huffs you had never seen this side of him before. “This pussy…is mine now. You got that?” He uses the desk for leverage as he fucks into you, Rasing your leg higher to go deeper into your pussy.

“Oh…god!” he was hitting all of the right spots, he was just the right size, and the right length. Everything was perfect down to the rhythm of his crust the way his hand was holding your body in place so he can fuck into you was also perfect.

“Nuh uh baby….” He huffs “no god here, only me…and you’ll call out only MY name!” He punctuates his words with deep thrusts

The desk rattles with every thrust he gives you. His lips leaving no area of your neck untouched. Maybe it was a silly little crush before but now you can say with full confidence that you would be his if he asked you to. Get on your knees for him….it was possible for just the pleasure to be corrupting you kind but he was right. You did like him. A whole lot…and now here you were.

Your nails claw at his back as he continues to thrust into you sporadically. Your legs tighten around his waist as his hands dig into your sides. There is a new look in his eye, one of lust and dominance. Completely opposite of the Noah that you were introduced to when he first started working here But this was such a turn on you can feel yourself posting around him the longer you looked in his eyes

His other hand rubbed tight circles on your clit, you can feel his cock twitch impulse inside of you. He captures your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue, pushing past your lips, and dancing with yours.

“ open your mouth baby” he huffs you follow his command, open your mouth slightly “stick that tongue out for me,”

Stick your tongue out, just enough for him to see

“Good girl,” he gathers a bit of spit and spits directly into your mouth. “Fucking swallow it,”

You swallow his spit feeling it washed down your throat. Your eyebrows knit together as you can feel a tight knot forming in the pit of your stomach. You can feel your head become light as your eyes roll to the back of your head. The way he rocked his body into you, the way his fingers worked at your clit, the way his lips traced over your skin, it all made you see stars.

“ are you going to cum baby? Cum all over this cock?” you taking a hold of your jaw, giving your face a slight squeeze every now and then if you broke eye contact with him. His glasses slipping down to the very tip of his nose, but still staying in place. The lenses became slightly foggy due to the activities you were currently partaking in. His combed hair starting to fall into his face. in those deep, dark eyes only pushed you further into your pleasure. 

“You wanna cum so bad huh?” he teases as he slows down his rhythm just a bit. He could see your face, become slightly dissatisfied with his change and pace. “Oh my poor little slut, tell me what you want..”

“I-I wanna cum….please Noah…”

This pleased the scientist, as a large smile appears on his face. He takes a hold of your hips and studies his foot stamps. He stops for only moment, and begins to pound into faster and harder than before. He was coming to his end and you, but of course he knew the consequences if he did finish inside so he had to get you to finish first. He rubs your bundle of nerves faster as he feels tighten around him.

“That’s it baby, cum. Cum for me, cum all over this dick” and just as he commanded, you finish as your body is taken over by tremors he pulls out of you and pumps his fist along his cock. He finishes in spurts onto your chest. You’re both gasping and huffing messes. You feel his slender hands up your body pick up some of the cum left on your chest.

Brings the fingers up to your mouth and says

“Taste it Y/N,” hesitantly, open your mouth and allow him to stick his fingers inside, tasting his thick consistency on his fingers. It was slightly salty, but also drop of sweetness in there.

“You’re so good for me,” he smirks as he leans down close to you once again he kisses you once again, and pulls bad enough just to say “only for me,”

[kurogane2512]

Could you maybe do a Chiori with an s/o who is a fatui Pyro agent? Like, Chiori is always willing to patch their outfit and other general fluff?

Bonus for some slightly more steamy bits with Chiori feeling up her s/o while taking their measurements?

I really like the look of the pyro agents:p

That's honestly such a unique idea I love it <3 I agree tbh I also find the pyro agents really cool looking, probably one of my favorite enemy designs ;)

Game: Genshin Impact

Characters: Chiori x Fatui Pyro Agent!Reader (tried to make it gn but I imagine it to be male tbh)

Type: Fluff hcs with some suggestive bits

Relationship with a Fatui soldier was most unexpected for Chiori, even now she finds it hard to believe she's really dating a Fatui. She wonders how she ended up this way, but once she goes down the memory lane of your meeting then she knows it too well why she fell for you. You met her as a normal customer at first, just wanting to have some new clothes made. It wasn't in your hands that she discovered your rather unpleasant job; but thankfully, she didn't treat you differently after that.

You had grown up in the House of the Hearth, Chiori also knew all that you had faced in your childhood and the things you are made to do as a Fatui soldier. She often thinks herself to be foolish, how could she trust all that you said? She even had Chevreuse do some background checks on you and while Chevreuse couldn't find much, she did confirm most of your past to be correct. So here she finds herself in a relationship with a Fatui, and having no regrets.

Chiori would be lying if she said she hasn't observed your outfit in more moments than she can count. Not only yours but even other Fatui she has seen around, it's quite a remarkable handicraft she admits. Among all, she certainly finds your uniform the most attractive. Everything is so well put together- the color, the design, the patterns, the fabric- and of course, it functions well on the battlefield too. She has suggested some changes, but she knows they won't really be seen through as your uniforms are approved by higher-ups after careful consideration.

There has only really been one time when you went to her in an abysmal state, your uniform ripped in various parts and bruises all over your body. It was so bad that your torso was almost completely visible as you desperately tried to keep it all together before reaching her. Her eyes couldn't help but wander to your abs but she composed herself and helped you first, getting you out of the uniform and applying medicine on your wounds.

When she had your uniform to herself, she examined it thoroughly and concluded it would be better to make a new one than fix this mess but you insisted her to make do with this. In the end, she did fix this one and it looked brand new but she also didn't back out from making a new set. She had you stand in her office to take your measurements, which you found odd since she could have used the old uniform, but who were you to deny this intimate moment with her?

"Stand still, would you? I'll be done quickly." Chiori ordered while holding the inch tape around her neck.

"Take as much time as you want, baby~" You teased, making her pout and let out a 'hmph' before she started working.

She said she'll be quick but here she was being distracted by your utterly attractive body. Seriously, what kind of training did the Fatui give to have a physique like yours? And you said, you are barely above average among all? Now she could understand why you people were so strong and feared, the other armies hardly held a candle in front of you. Still, she had to focus. She draped the tape over your chest, measuring the width when her fingers brushed your skin. She then kneeled to measure your waist and touched your abs, her fingers lingering longer as she felt them up.

You were aware of what she was thinking the whole time, and it was adorable to see her being so aroused but try to keep herself composed. She then moved behind you to measure your shoulders, and you could swear you felt how hard she was staring at your back. While measuring your arms, she subconsciously licked her lips seeing how muscular it was. And then your collar? Oh, it was delightful to have her lean on you and measure it.

"Hmm... A-Ahem, I'm done. I'll make 2 sets by the end of this month. Be sure not to destroy that one like before, the fabric won't hold up anymore."

Chiori cleared her throat and turned around to write down the measurements. You smirked then silently crept up to her and wrapped your arms around her waist, embracing her from behind.

"O-Oi, what are you doing?!"

"Hm? It's my turn to feel you up, isn't it? You had your fun just now~"

"Huh? What are you talking about?! Release me, I have work to do!"

"That's unfair...." you snuggled into her neck and kissed her skin, "I want to touch you too~"

Chiori pouted before letting out a sigh, "F-Fine, be quick then!"

Of course, you took your sweet time touching her all over. And you didn't stop just at touching, you soon found yourself kissing her passionately while she straddled your lap before laying her on the sofa. Her touch was engraved in your body now, courtesy of the bites on your neck and scratches on your back~

[azullumi]

“heart to heart” ; kaveh, wanderer, xiao

summary — he could only watch as you die ; alternatively, he’s there to comfort and hold you as you take your last breath.

characters — kaveh, wanderer, and xiao (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — angst but not that heavy but not that light also, grammatical errors bcs i don’t like to proofread, established relationship ; scenario/one-shot

words — 1431

note — u all had too much fluff these past few days, anyways, this is part 2 out of 2!! read the previous one here (^^)/

;; KAVEH

not again.

you were his but right now, death seems to hold on to your hand as if you were never his own, the half of him, his heart and his soul. they cannot take you from him, not again, not you—why does he always someone dear to him? why does it have to be you?

“how about a house on top of the hills or the mountains?” you say over the warm beverage that you held in between your hands and a short sound of laughter escapes him, “wouldn’t that be dangerous? a landslide could occur while we’re inside our home.”

“at least we’re going to die together, right?” he pauses, turning around to meet your tender gaze and he answered with a small smile on his lips. “that is romantic but i would rather grow old with you and die together by natural causes.”

“i can’t fight anymore. i’m… tired.” you muttered, loud enough for him to hear, as you could only stare at the same boring ceiling—he insisted that it was beautiful by the time this very home was built but if you were to always see it, wouldn’t you be tired of its beauty?—and lay on the soft bed. it’s almost like you were a corpse and oftentimes, the thought of death being the kindest thing for the both of you two occurs in your head.

“don’t say that, please…”

you couldn’t live until you were old and frail with him but even so, you were happy. you were happy that you got to meet him, you were happy that someone as lovely as him was willing to kiss your scars gently as if all that you were was a fragile being. in the short amount of time you have spent together with him, he made you the happiest, the most loved, the most cherished, he made you feel alive.

“i don’t care where we are as long as i’m there with you.” he murmurs against your lips, a pretty shade of pink and smiling. you tangle your fingers in the strands of his blonde hair, feeling his breath fan your skin and it was ticklish yet comforting at the same. “what if you’re not there?”

he presses yet another kiss, a short one but the sweetness lingered on your own when he parted. “i will be there, always, holding your hand.”

“i’m getting sleepy, kaveh…”

he chokes on his own sob, hand coming up to hold your own and intertwine it with his. he squeezed it rather softly and you tried to do the same but there was nothing left in you, just a slow heart and a weak body that is holding on to the faint light that you call life. “p-please, hold on a little much longer, okay? i’ll find a cure, i’ll find the medicine for you so please—stay awake.”

“i can’t—i’m sorry I won't be there until the end.”

“but i—i love you so much, i love you. please always remember that, kaveh.” he wasn’t even given the chance to answer when you had already closed your eyes and anything he would say at that point will not reach you.

as your hand loosens and slips off his hold, so does he falls to the floor. nothing could have prepared him for your last goodbye.

;; WANDERER

“i have a confession to make.”

you spoke weakly, voice nearing to a whisper, a testament to your state, and in contrast to your loosening grip on his hand, he holds you rather tightly as if you’re going to be taken away from him—a denial, eyes choosing to be blind to avoid facing the dreadful truth. “shut up, stop acting like you’re going to die!”

he continued, holding back a sob, “you are not going to die.” you never failed to notice the smallest falter in his expression—his crumpled expression relaxing into a soft one when he sees you, the small and genuine smile tugging on his lips, and right now, especially at this moment when his voice cracked and softened while speaking. he had already expected the moment when you’ll leave him, he was a puppet that can live long and you were just a mortal, a weak one. he was going to outlive you but why? why does it have to be this soon?

“you can tell me your confession later so please…”

but you knew better than that, you know there wasn’t going to be a later for both of you—maybe for him and only for him—, you weren’t foolish to not know that, death was already waiting for you with an open door but he was still tugging and holding on to your hand.

“i—i love you, kuni.”

he doesn’t respond, only holding his tongue back as he brings your hand to his lips and presses a long kiss on it but you were numb, you were already feeling numb and you hate how much his warmth was slipping off you, you hate how you couldn’t feel him underneath your touch, you hate that you’re dying right now and you don’t get to live your fullest with him.

“i love you, say it back, please?” a sad smile engulfs your lips as you try to meet his eyes with your unfocused gaze, was it the tears or was it the fact that your consciousness is fading off you?

“i—i love you. i love you, i love you, so please just stop talking, just stop it.” if you truly love him, you’ll stay. “don’t—“ his voice breaks out into a sob, tears that he had been holding back since earlier came like a waterfall. to love is to stay, is to be with him.

but you didn’t, you couldn’t, and for the last, you mouth those three words at him with a smile on your face, feeling your body going limp as your eyes closed.

he whispers, “—don’t leave me,” to the ghost of you.

;; XIAO

thoughts still continued to haunt his mind every time the memory resurfaces on a silent cold morning: if only he was a second early, if only he was there, if only he was able to protect you. if only he wasn’t so foolish.

“xiao.”

he could still recall your voice and the way you called out to his name, it was distant, almost seemed to be fading and everything started to piece together into the sight before him as soon as the environment changed when he answered to your feeble call of his name.

it looks like a fight has occurred, the scent of it wafting to his senses—it reeks of blood, it reeks of death, and his frightened gaze laid on your figure on the cold ground, almost lifeless.

he calls out to your name and in contrast to your soft voice, his was audible, loud enough to keep you holding on the last strand of your slipping consciousness. it was a shout, deriving from panic and fear, and you noticed yourself being picked up by a pair of arms, familiar ones soon after.

“xiao…?”

“i’m here, don’t talk. i’m going to find you some hel—“

you quickly interrupted him with a cough, blood sputtering out of your mouth as you did, and his eyes widened, a breath getting stuck on his throat. and just for a brief moment, he saw his world crumble down seeing that rude warm liquid staining your clothes. his body shook, he was all too familiar with this sight, all too familiar with the scene—he had taken many lives in the battlefield to not recognize the death that seeps into your ragged breath.

and he yields to his crumbling resolve because even if he chooses to deny what is happening, it still won’t stop you from dying. he wanted to scold you, he wanted to reprimand you for putting yourself in danger, but that’s not what you needed, not when all you needed was him and his comfort in your last.

“why…?” was all he could say as he dropped to the floor, tear-stained eyes clouding his vision while he holds you close. you knew what he was asking and you knew the answer to it but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him—if ever he’ll learn the reason, he’ll blame myself and you don’t want that, you don’t want him to be in such misery when it wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t there.

“you’re here… thank you.” and with all the strength left in you, you spoke to him in a low voice, a smile plastered on your blood-stained lips, before your vision dims and you lay limp in his hold; he could only cradle your head closer to him as weak sobs started to escape his lips.

if only.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.