#had this in my head and couldn't get it out so here we are
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[Image: screenshot of a Reddit post from r/parenting reads "6:30 AM conversions with an ADHD kid (before meds kick in)
Her: mom, do you think there are sniffing cats? Me, who hasn't had the fucking chance to pour a cup of coffee yet: uh? Her: yeah, like you know how there are sniffing dogs at the airports, do they have sniffing cats? Me: I have no clue but i don't think so. Her: ok.
20 secs later Her: mom, do adults loose their teeth? Me (screaming in my head and glancing at the bottle of vodka "it's always 5 o'clock somewhere"): no, Sof, only children loose their baby teeth. Her: why? Me: cause they are temporary. Her: why? Me: i dunno, cause that's what happens Her: ok.
Another 20 secs later Her: mom? Me (" omfg, kill me now!): we have to go NOW, or we are gonna miss the bus!
Is it 5 o'clock yet (here in Michigan)?" /End ID]
I have watched my late diagnosed ADHDer partner dissociate for days on end because he forgot to fold a towel the way I like. When we first started dating, he thought I would break up with him because he spilled something on the floor.
He is one of the kindest, smartest, coolest people I know and I love seeing when his brain sparks. He has supported me through recovery from being hit by a car, a toxic workplace taking away all my joy, and the symptoms of multiple severe disabilities, but I know he still worries deep down that I'll stop loving him if he leaves a cup out one too many times.
Reading these posts makes me disgusted and devastated. Every one of those kids deserves better, and the way those parents speak is not blowing off steam. Talking shit about our disabilities is a love language in many of my friendships, but I couldn't imagine thinking the way those parents do about my loved ones even on my worst days.
Also, this kind of trauma is insidious. You are communicating to your child how much you hate them, but they don't have the social of emotional maturity to recognize it. There's no need to weigh and compare childhood trauma, but this self loathing is a belief that will be reinforced silently for the rest of their lives. Every breakup, every friend that stops texting, every job they don't get will be framed through this.
To parents like this: please get help. You are quite literally traumatizing your children in a way they will struggle to even explain.
To the kids: you deserve so much love. You are valuable to the world (there's literally research backing up how ND people make groups better). There are people who will absolutely adore you. It can be so much better, and no one should treat you this way.
I ended up on r/ADHDparenting (a subreddit about parenting kids with ADHD, not about being a parent with ADHD) and Jesus fuck.
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bunnys-kisses · 2 days ago
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hi bunny!!! can i submit a request for kevin magnussen? something like a mafia!au where he’s big and scary except for when he’s with reader?💞
kevin magnussen
cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, mafia boss!kevin, size difference/kink, doggy style, protective!kevin, reader doesn't know he's mafia, creepy men, mentions of blood and violence, body worship
thank you lovely anon for this idea! i know i usually get bakery submissions, but i do accept other ideas you might have! so this was a pleasant surprise in my inbox!
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coming to copenhagen wasn't on your bucket list of dreams. while it was for some, you only took the job because the hours were better. and after a nasty break up only a few months prior, it felt like a good idea to be in another part of the globe. while you missed family, there was something about the unknown that made you pack your belongings (and cat) and head to denmark.
you knew living abroad would have its risks. they were put to rest when you met a tattooed gentleman with the kindest eyes. his name was kevin, kevin magnussen
kevin was an interesting man. you had met him after a blind date fell through and he was at a nearby table by himself. he was waiting for 'friends', but didn't mind spending some time with you. before his 'friends' arrived he ordered you some dessert for after your meal.
he also slipped you a business card and said, "if you need anything in this city, let me know." then smiled at you. the address on the card led to a mechanics shop and kevin told you he owned and "worked" here, but you never saw too many cars come through.
but any questions were met with smiles and promises. you felt a little safer in the city when you were kevin. you one time asked him, "it seems like everyone looks at you when we walk together. or maybe i'm just imagining things."
even though you became accustomed to the public transport of the city. kevin was more than happy to pick you up or drop you off even places like the grocery store. you didn't want to think about all the times he bought you groceries. one time he made you grab another pack of salmon and not to look at the cost. he told you that you can freeze it for a few months. your throat tightened when you saw the price at the check out. but kevin simply paid without a second glance.
maybe you were used to people in your country being paid pennies. you chalked everything up to better wages in denmark.
  “you don't have to pay for things, kevin! really, this job i do pays well enough.” you held onto the front of his zip-up jacket as he carried your groceries back to your apartment. you still didn't know what he saw in you. but, if you couldn't give him the money back, then you'd simply have to keep him smiling. not that it was hard, even your worst jokes made him laugh and wrap his arms around you.
kevin seemed weird, but you found it endearing. when he was all smiles with you, in front of the family he was serious. he could be cold, methodic, dangerous. the light that he brought into your world were the same as the shadows he put into the underbelly of the city. people looked when you went down the street, because it wasn't very often to see him out on the streets. especially with someone so…. cute. 
but, there was something that lingered inside of the danish man you met. kevin saw it with his own two eyes when he entered the bar to meet with you one night. he saw a man at your table trying to chat you up. even with your back turned to kevin, he knew you were uncomfortable. nobody liked unwanted sexual advances.
but you weren't budging giving this man an inch, instead waving him off and eventually he took the cue to leave. but not before he touched you at the small of your back which made you lean away from him in disgust.
kevin saw your mouth move and then take a sip of your drink. at least kevin knew that you could stand up for yourself a little bit. at least enough to get this creep to go away.
eventually he did and when he walked away, kevin followed. no one was touching his girl. you were your own woman of course, you did as you pleased with kevin's support. but, most of the city should've know by now. you were under magnussen protection.
you were too occupied with your drink when the man left for you to notice that kevin had saw the entire thing. and instead of meeting you at your table, he followed the man in the washroom.
kevin wasn't the mechanic he told you he was. the tattoos weren't just from the lifestyle of fixing cars. they all meant something, his past, present and future. his family. his life. the head of an important family in the country. he rolled up his sleeves and the man who was flirting with you noticed him.
"almost done, man." he said as he turned off the tap and shook his hands to dry them. kevin crossed the small bathroom and instantly his fist was in the other man's face. causing him to sprawl out on the tiled floor of the bathroom.
kevin got on one knee down to the other man's level. he grabbed him by the front of the shirt and said, "don't, don't, don't yell." he pulled the bloodied man a little closer, his nose obviously broken, "you're going to leave this place. and you're not going to come back. you do not touch a woman without her permission."
"but i-"
"shh, shh, shh. i saw what you clipped to the back of her pants. a tracker? gps? going to follow her home? kidnap her? sell her? answer me." his voice was firm.
the man looked shaken and bleeding, he was trembling like a leaf at the end of fall. kevin was dangerously close, but didn't want to get blood all over himself. he didn't want you to worry.
"keep yourself out of here. if you don't. not even your dental records will be able to identify you. and if you want a date so badly, stop being a fucking creep." then dropped the man and got up.
the man nodded before he propped himself up against the bottom of the sink. he wiped his bleeding nose and before he could get a word in, kevin was gone.
"min elskede!" kevin's words could be heard and made you look over. you perked up a little bit as your boyfriend sat across from you. you were all smiles now in his presence.
"what happened to your hand?" you asked as you carefully took his hand in yours. you examined the red across his knuckle.
kevin rubbed the top of your head with his other hand, "oh, nothing. i wasn't looking at got it right at the corner of a door. you can kiss it if you want?"
you giggled a little then brought his knuckle to your lips, "what would you do without me, kevin?"
"oh, i don't know. i'd be lost." he smiled back at you.
-
back at your apartment, you were trying to get your socks off. they had little flowers printed on them and were a lovely pair. but it was hard with kevin's lips on your skin.
you squirmed a little and broke the kiss, "please, honey. let me get my clothes off." then burst into giggles when his lips got onto your neck. you ran your fingers through his hair and laughed.
"i can't help it, you're so beautiful." he admitted before he managed to pry himself away from you to let you get undressed. as he undid his button up shirt, he watched you struggle to get out of your jeans and chuckled softly to himself. beautiful little thing you were.
"oh shush." you said as you slipped off your panties, feeling kevin's eyes on you, "i'm alright looking. nothing to write home about."
he took you and pulled him to your chest. he kept those strong arms around you, as if he didn't punch a guy in the face earlier that evening. but, that was simply a part of his life. he had a punch that could kill, but with you. he was so sweet.
eventually you wiggled out of his grasp and got yourself in a further state of undress. soon you naked body was exposed to him and you could feel his hungry gaze on you.
you said as you looked at him, "i'm not a piece of meat, honey."
he reached for you and pulled your naked body next to his. he kissed at your face with such love and said, "of course you're not. you're too important to be meat." then trailed kisses across your body.
you laughed, "oh, c'mon!" you squirmed a little bit and arched your back. your nails rubbed against his scalp. his hips shifted a little bit and his cock rubbed against your thigh.
he knew that if anyone in the family saw him in that moment, they'd think he was a totally different man. the mean boss of the family was reduced to getting head scratches while he worshiped your breasts with his lips.
he said sweet things against you, watching your squirm when his tongue touched your left nipple. he watched your reaction for a moment before he closed his eyes and started to really suck on it. leaving wet trails behind.
his large hands kneaded your breasts and he felt his back arch against you. you felt hot all over and you moaned a little louder. two lovers naked in bed together.
you ran your hands up and down his shoulders, you knew both arms were heavily tattooed. you moaned against his lips before he pulled away and moved away from you. he got you onto your elbows and knees with your ass in the air.
he groped your ass cheek a little bit as he stroked his cock a little bit before he got closer to you once more and rubbed his hard cock up against your slick pussy. he listened to your sweet noises which only excited him more when he slipped his cock in. the angle let him get quite deep inside of you.
"kev!" your back arched a little, "oh. wow! every time." you hit your fist against the bed for a moment. your back arched a little more and you held onto the covers under you.
kevin licked his lips as he kept both hands on you. he loved the feeling of your cunt around his cock. it was his little slice of heaven. all the money from being in the family was something, but to have your sweetness around him made everything feel so much better.
"you're so pretty." he said softly, "you are the most gorgeous thing i had ever laid eyes on. i think about you all day, how much i love you and care for you." he pressed his chest agaisnt your back, then kissed at the back of your shoulders as he rutted against you.
he could feel the pound of his heart as he continued to move against you. his breathing was heavy against your skin as you buried your face into the soft pillows. the pillows he bought for you because you talked so much about how they were just so soft. and you hated to admit that since sleeping with them, your sleeps have improved.
he watched you move a little bit and whine into the covers. you sounded so pretty as he rutted against you. he kissed your shoulders once more.
"please, kev. honey!" you whined.
"you're so beautiful, my love."
his movements continued and the heat in the room grew, especially between the two of you. you could feel the sweat of his chest on your back as he wrapped his arms around you. he kept you close to him as he picked up the pace.
he pushed your further into the bed and worked at your hips. his cock slipped in and out of you perfectly. you were a dream around his cock. the creaking of the bed under you as the two of you made love under the low light of your bedroom.
it was comfortable, it wasn't painful in every way. and it was so good to feel your lover so closely. you panted heavily into the pillows and clutched it tightly. your noises were muffled as he moved. he pressed further into you and knew he wasn't going to last long.
a man capable of such violence was so docile around you. he wanted you so badly. he needed you more than he needed almost anything. his heart sang for you, and when he was away he tried to get home to you as soon as possible.
the dangerous life was common for him, but he didn't want to scare you off. if you knew the truth, would you hate him? would you run away or to the police? would you leave kevin?
he loved you so much, the idea of losing you made him almost scared. he pressed into you as much as he could and fucked you with heavy thrusts. he heard you pant heavily into the covers as he felt the pleasure in his brain.
you whined more as you felt orgasm hit you like a train. you said to your lover, "please, kevin. i love you."
he kissed your cheek and said, "good. because i love you too." then gave a few more thrusts before he finished inside of you with one final movement of his hips. he came with a groan before he slowed to a stop. he rested his face against your shoulder and just let himself feel you for a moment.
"i love you so much." you groaned.
kevin slipped out of you and laid out beside you. you laid next to him and let him wrap himself up around you. like a protective blanket. he pressed soft kisses against you and melted against your heated skin.
he said with his voice close to your ear, "i promise to protect you forever." then kissed the shell of your ear, "all of my days and all of my nights."
you giggled and turned in his arms, "sounds like you're trying to propose to me." your cheeks warmed at the thought.
he smiled down at you, "maybe, but i'll need a ring first." maybe he'll slowly let you into his world. to be closer to him than ever. he wanted you for a lifetime, to love you was an honour as he kept you in his arms while you both calmed down from your climaxes, "it's a secret for now." he said, "have to give you a little surprise."
you buried your face in his chest and giggled, "oh my god, kevin!" you squirmed a little bit on the bed, "you don't need to propose! really! i'm fine being your girlfriend." the idea of marriage made your cheeks hot!
he held your back and smiled into your hair, "even if it is just a ring, you deserve something nice. and if it is pretty enough then no idiot men at the bar will try to make you uncomfortable." he thought about the tracker he took off of you. being married to you was the end goal, but to protect you was a constant in his mind.
he kissed you, tomorrow he'll go ring shopping before his meetings. it'll be a hard choice to pick the perfect ring, but only the best for you. <3
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ivysprophecy · 2 days ago
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slim pickins
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warnings; bad date? mentions of sex, cursing underage drinking and yes i meant for it to be written poorly i was trying to keep the humor of the album in the writing
no pressure tags; @murdockcastleslut @kimoralov3 @arkofblake
word count; 1911
summary; youre tired of not finding a decent guy who will treat you right and lay you right. at least not one you've known since you were kids. however you just cant help yourself. besides its slim pickins out here you take what you can get.
divider by @bernardsbendystraws
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i wanna make one thing clear, when i say there are no good guys left i do not wanna hear about you and your boyfriend of three years that can cook and loves your mom.
thats exactly what im talking about maddie!!! i dont give two fucks that he took you to barnes and noble and bought you every book you wanted.
they are all taken. its plain and simple.
which is why even with a full roster, im stuck taking fucking zander, yes with a z, to my friends' kegger.
i mean yea hes cute. hes tall, built but not that gross kind of muscly. but if were being real i shouldve known better when he was joking about being a male stripper when hes a ginger.
and i can tell kie is judging me, rightfully so. her side eye is lethal. when i introduced him to everyone she asked him about his greta van fleet tee and he said he didn't even know it was a band.
needless to say pope had to drag her away.
after that incident i decided it was best if we tried to talk away from the rest of the group. boy was i wrong.
"so what do you like to drink? ill go grab us something," i offer trying to start the conversation, also avoiding the usual problem with taking a drink from men.
"im good with whatever"
i like to think im not a violent person, but im about to be.
"does a beer sound okay?" i ask him grabbing a twisted tea for me from the cooler.
"sure thing." god why is he acting like such a bitch? i should ask him if he's on his period.
i hand him the can, our fingers brush and its my final clue for the night that i am definitely not going home with him. no spark at all. hes done just about everything else to piss me off.
he did the thing where he licks his lips exaggeratingly looking me up and down, making a point to make sure i saw.
he walks so slow for being 6'3.
and finally he tried to mansplain my career to me. i'd had just enough when he opens his mouth again
"ew, you like twisted tea? who likes sweet tea?" his face contorted in disgust, it was about to contort from my fist breaking his goddamn nose if he keeps talking to me like this.
"we literally live in the south dude." my face could not make it any clearer i am so done with this guy.
"still, sweet tea is disgusting. im not kissing anyone that drinks that nasty shit."
"who said i wanted to kiss your nasty fucking mou-" i was interrupted by the sound of a very familiar giggle behind me as his arm wrapped around my shoulder, the smell of his deodorant and sea salt that cover his skin start to put you at ease.
jj was always there when you needed him, sometimes even when you didnt but right now you couldn't be more grateful. "im glad you found those mama i got em just for you. remembered theyre your favorite. right?"
and you wanna know the best part? zander is shaking already pissed off that jj is at my side. territorial i guess.
"you mind?" he asks him nodding his head at me like im not even there.
jj cant help but laugh at him "yea bud i do mind. she's hanging out with me tonight. have fun with your ipa dick." and with that he steers us off to where the rest of the pogues are.
but not before i can look over my shoulder and give the ginger an innocent smile and a shrug as if i had no control over the situation, when really id pick jj over anyone else.
"you owe me a big fat kiss mama," jj whispers in my ear walking us over to where our friends are standing, drinks in their hands laughing and chatting up a storm.
"in your dreams honey."
"every night all night," he quips back before i shove him off me.
now before you give me shit, jj and i have had our fair share of fun, but unfortunately im starting to look for something more serious.
watching john b and sarah be disgusting together is getting to my head. popes got something going on with cleo and im starting to recognize the pattern. and before i know it everyone will be in love if i don't start making an effort in that department.
random casual hook ups aren't doing it anymore, especially considering they aren't even that good.
unless theyre with jj.
but hes not an option, theres too much drama. too much history. too much too much too much. im not what he needs and i know for a fact he doesn't want me in that sense.
is that a bit dramatic? probably.
i mean hes a great lay, he's hilarious, he's got that blue collar kind of muscle, and he genuinely cares about me.
so of course im not going to date him, why would i?
what do you mean make good decisions? id rather do things in the most difficult way possible!
"y/n youve gotta stop giving those guys a chance, im starting to feel bad for you."
"you try finding a decent guy in a ten mile radius." i glare at him, obviously not wanting to joke about this right now.
he sticks his hand out in front of me, "fine i will. let me see your phone."
curious to see what he will do i hand it too him unlocked, he swipes and taps for a few moments, smiling down at the phone before handing it back to you.
when you look back down at the screen all you see is your instagram open with his stupid fucking smiley face on the screen.
he took a picture of himself and posted to my story. written on the screen in bubble letters in my favorite colored heart 'my favorite guy <3'
"i think he's your best bet." that same smile facing back at me now, cockier than ever. so smug i wanna kiss it off his face
i cant help but roll my eyes. "jj im serious! at this rate im going to die alone. every decent guy is taken or unavailable. all i want is someone funny, kind, and attractive is that too much to ask for?"
"im right in front of you mama you dont gotta look far."
"jj we both know we're not the serious kind of relationship im talking about."
"you can think what you want too but ill be here waiting for that kiss you owe me."
"i think all that tequila youve been sipping has gone to your head maybank."
he stands in front of me, taking his signature red cap off his head and putting it on mine smiling down at me, "what do they say in those books you read? you wear the hat you ride the cowboy?"
"this no ten gallon hat and you are no cowboy."
we laugh at each other, its always been easier to do that then actually talk about our feelings. so i put his hat back on his head, backwards the way he i likes it.
"cmon y/n/n, have a few more drinks, relax and hang out and ill make you feel all better later yea? its what im best at, you know."
"its gonna take more than a few more teas to convince me jj"
"what about that thing you like that i do with my tongue, huh mama? doesnt that sound pretty good right now? i think it does."
"i give you one fucking compliment and it goes straight to your head."
"technically its about my head so that makes perfect sense," he hands me another can with that stupid signature smirk of his and his stupid sexy hat backwards. i hate to admit it's working on me.
just like it does every other time.
i squint my eyes at him taking the can, rolling the idea around in my head. "fuck it. its not like anyone else is offering," i take a big sip of my drink.
jj pumps his fist in the air like a victorious idiot giving a few woots and hollars before picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder despite my wishes.
"jb!!" he shouts turning around to face him, "we're headed out!"
john b looks at the two of us shaking his head at how im kicking my feet to wiggle out of jjs oddly strong grip. "make sure you change the sheets when youre done!"
oh my god he did not just say that. "fuck both of you!"
jj just laughs carrying you back to the chateau like a kid who's excited to use a brand new birthday present.
"what happened to letting me have a few more drinks before we left??"
"youre just too irresistable mama, gotta have you now,' he gives my ass a light slap for good measure causing me to roll my eyes for the 600th time tonight.
"are you gonna put me down now?"
he pretends to look like hes thinking about it, "i guess. only so i can watch you walk away," he does as he says helping me get my feet on the ground.
"youre a pervert."
"no im flirtatious, and you love it, you know it makes you blush i see it. now go on and give me a lil walk yea?"
oh im gonna kill him...
oh wait! im gonna kill him!
"okay... fine. but no touching until we get home," i smile walking away exactly like he asked, but i know behind me he is a puddle of mud. standing still, about to start begging me to let him.
he finally catches up after a few seconds "mama please- cmon thats not fair. you look too good in those shorts you know i cant wait that long. just wanna feel you."
i cant help but giggle at his words, its honestly adorable how mopey he gets. like i just kicked his puppy or something.
"hands of jj i mean it... not until that door shuts behind us."
it didn't really matter that i can see the chateau or that ill be there in literally a minute.
its actually painful for jj to not be able to touch me as he pleases.
i turn around to face him with a cheeky smile. "you want me maybank?"
and of course he nods so hard it looks like his head is going to fall right off.
"come and get me," running towards the house, i can see the moment when his reflexes kick in, his boots thudding against the ground as he gains on me.
just before i can make it to the poarch jj wraps his arms around me, lifting me a few inches off the ground and spinning me around in a fit of laughter.
"okay! okay okay okay you win- you got me."
"oh ive got you mama, and im havin you for the rest of the fucking night," he presses a kiss to my neck hauling me inside, the screen door slamming shut after us.
am i gonna regret this tomorrow? most likely.
but what can i say? its slim pickins in this part of town.
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huopilled · 3 days ago
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⤷ COUPLE UP — k.mj
masterlist | next
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ೃ࿔࿐ CHAPTER I — GAME START
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the cameras were focused on her, the studio lights making her sweat a little. she hoped they weren't able to see the beads of sweat through the cameras. yn always got a little nervous when she was in front of a camera, it was ironic that her whole career was built on cameras and other people.
"okay yn you ready?"
she cleared her throat as silently as she could, "yes."
"great. three... two... start!"
yn had to do something for her intro before talking. she decided on a simple wave, as her fans talked about how cute she looks while waving. she decided to play it safe.
"state your age and name please."
"lee yn. nineteen."
"nice to meet you yn. first we will explain the details and the rules of the game to you. is there anything you'd like to ask?"
she shook her head.
"great. so this game..."
they had explained everything thoroughly before she even signed the contract to agree to play the game so she knew what they were talking about. deciding to tune the mc out, yn nodded here and there letting the man know that she was listening. i mean she wasn't but... whatever.
"so yn, what do you think about the game overall?"
she'd tried to come up with something cheeky to say but she couldn't find anything. but she hoped it wouldn't matter how much fanservice she did right now because the game was full of fanservice anyway.
"i think it's great! i've never seen something like this before so i'm exited. i'm also very happy to meet new people!"
well she didn't lie that much this time, she really was excited. she was also nervous but no one had to know about that part. i mean if she even said it no one would care, and her fans would probably try to look into it and come up with crazy theories. god, she really didn't want to deal with that.
when the shooting was over they let her sit around for a little bit before getting her into the car that would take her to the house she would be staying at. she liked car rides, minus the part where she would get carsick. she usually preferred sleeping through the rides but she had to talk to a camera this time. it was okay i guess, she just felt weird talking to a camera all by herself.
"hey guys," yn smiled, a little shy, "did you miss my pretty face? i'm kidding, or am i?"
she continued to talk for five minutes before stopping the video and closing her eyes, hoping to get some sleep before a tiring day.
after a while, yn opened her eyes. coincidentally they had just parked the car and opened her door for her to get out. after stepping out of the car she looked at the building in front of her in awe. she hadn't expected it to be this big but it made sense, since there would be seven other people staying in there.
after going inside and looking at the rooms yn was told to sit down at the table that they temporarily put inside of the living room. after she sat down, they quickly started recording.
"okay so, you're going to choose someone after reading these papers and that'll be your partner from now on, so choose wisely."
"oh this is interesting..."
she started to read slowly, sometimes raising an eyebrow or two, sometimes smiling. she'd read all four papers when she picked the third one.
"this," she showed her paper to the camera "is my partner."
"okay," said the main mc "can you tell us what made you choose that person?"
"um... the fact that she can speak three languages is pretty cool. and it says here that she likes eating ice cream in winter and wearing mostly black clothes. we have those in common."
"okay great. thank you yn."
she smiled and nodded, slowly getting up from her seat and going over to one of the rooms. she laid on one side of the bed and slowly drifted to sleep. an hour later a staff member woke her up, telling her that she had to get a few photos taken. yn nodded and followed the staff out of the room.
after the shooting, she realized she had to eat or else she would be too hungry to sleep after. she opted for ramen, a quick and easy dish, also quite tasty for a packaged food.
as she was eating she began to wonder who her partner would be and what games they would play. she hoped it wasn't someone mean, she really didn't have the energy to deal with a mean person especially for a long time.
she sighed and decided to stop thinking. she didn't want to ruin the surprise by trying to guess who she'd be staying with anyway.
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taglist— @saysirhc
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atimeofyourlife · 2 days ago
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Go ahead, rip my heart out
Part 1 of my make it worse-before it gets better fic that I teased here
rated: t | wc: 1350 After 8x06, Buck crashes on Eddie's couch for the night. Eddie finds him the next morning presenting with cardiac symptoms on his couch.
"We must be getting old if just a few beers are leaving you looking like that." Eddie joked as he came into the living room to see Buck sat hunched over on the couch. He knew that it was more likely the events of the previous evening that had lead him to bringing over a six pack and then sleeping on Eddie's couch. He got concerned when Buck didn't respond, and he seemed to be struggling for breath, and not in a way that indicated that he'd been crying.
"Buck, what's wrong? Are you okay?" He asked, hurrying around the couch to kneel in front of Buck.
"Hurts." Buck gasped out, clutching at his chest.
"When did this start?" Eddie pulled his phone out of his picked, just in case he needed to call help.
"Few minutes." Buck replied, and Eddie winced at how short of breath he was.
"Okay, I'm just going to check your pulse." Eddie pressed his fingers to Buck's pulse point, and frowned. "There's some arrhythmia. I'm calling 911."
read more below the cut or on a03
"911, what's your emergency?" Eddie let out an involuntary sigh of relief when he didn't recognize the voice. He didn't know how he would explain it to anyone they knew.
"This is off duty firefighter Eddie Diaz. I need an RA unit to 4995 South Bedford Street. Patient is a thirty three year old male presenting with angina, shortness of breath, and arrhythmia. He has some history of heart problems after being struck by lightning two years ago, but has had a clean bill of cardiac health for around eighteen months. He also has a history of blood clots, about five years ago, caused by hardware in his leg from an injury."
"Okay, and what is the patient's name?"
"Evan Buckley. He's also a firefighter. He's my heavy rescue partner at the 118." He stopped for a moment as Buck slumped forward. "He's just fainted."
"Did he hit his head or fall into a position where he is potentially unsafe?"
"No. He was sitting on the couch and slumped forward. I caught him before he went down."
"Can you reposition him so he is lying down on the couch?
"Yeah. Give me a minute." He pushed on Buck's shoulders to get him to lie back, then pulled his legs round so he was flat on the couch. "Done."
"Okay. And do you know if he has taken anything in the last twenty four hours?"
"He's not currently on any prescription medication, and he doesn't use anything recreationally, because of the job. He was drinking last night, but we only split a six pack of beer."
"Can you unlock a door, the ambulance is just a few minutes out."
"Yeah." Eddie got up and practically ran to the front door, glancing back at the couch constantly. He unlocked the door and was back beside Buck in seconds. "The front door is unlocked, and opens right into the lounge."
Eddie kept an eye on Buck, reassuring him gently when he regained consciousness. A few minutes later, the door opened. "LAFD."
"Over here." He called back.
"We got him, Diaz." One of the paramedics said, kneeling next to him with a lifepak.
Eddie just nodded, and stood up. He realized it was the 133 there, so he was pretty familiar with most of the crew.
"What happened?"
"I don't know. He came over with some beers last night and crashed on the couch. This morning when I woke up I found him on the couch hunched over. Shortness of breath, angina, arrhythmia. It came out of nowhere." He explained, watching as the paramedics hooked Buck up to the lifepak. He hadn't felt this scared for his best friend since the lightning strike.
"His blood pressure is pretty low too." One of the paramedics chimed in. "We need to take him in. His heart doesn't seem healthy right now."
He couldn't help feeling a little useless while they got Buck ready and loaded onto the gurney. He felt like that was his job, that he should be taking care of Buck. He made sure that he had both his and Buck's phones as well as his keys before following them out to the ambulance.
"M-Mad's-" Buck mumbled, reaching out towards Eddie.
"I'll call Maddie, I'll let her know." Eddie reassured him. "I'll ask her to meet us at the hospital. Don't worry about it."
--
The ride to the hospital was uncomfortable, but not the worst. He held Buck's hand tight and just let the paramedics work.
At the hospital, the paramedics took the lead to inform the medical team on what was happening, but Eddie cut in to add information about the lightning strike, history of blood clots, and Buck's allergies.
"Diaz." Captain Mehta called out as Eddie made to follow the team into the hospital. "Do you want me to inform Captain Nash?"
"No. I'll call him. I just need to call Buck's sister first." Eddie replied, before making his way inside. Calling Maddie to tell her that Buck was in the hospital again was never something he wanted to do.
Eddie tucked himself in the corner of the waiting area, knowing there were going to be a lot of tests they had to run for Buck to find out what was going on with his heart. He tried to get his thoughts in order before dialing Maddie's number.
"Hey, Eddie. What's up?" Maddie sounded cheerful, and he hated to break that for her.
"I, uh. I had to call an ambulance for Buck this morning. We're at First Presbyterian." He said, ripping off the painful part first.
"Why? What happened? Is Buck okay?" She sounded shocked.
"It's his heart. I don't know what's going on yet, we've only just got here." He explained. "He crashed at mine last night. When I woke up he was having cardiac symptoms. Angina, shortness of breath, arrhythmia. He fainted on my couch while I was on the phone to dispatch, and when the paramedics were there he had low blood pressure."
"Oh, my god." Maddie gasped. "I'm on my way. Should we call Tom-"
"No." Eddie said definitively. Knowing that having Tommy there could make it worse. "I. I think we should leave telling anyone else until we know more about what's going on."
"Okay. I'll be there soon. Thanks for letting me know, Eddie."
--
Eddie stayed sat in the corner, looking up every time someone moved, looking for Maddie, for Buck. For a nurse or doctor coming to inform him what was going on.
Maddie came hurrying in around thirty minutes after he'd called her. "Any updates?"
"Not yet." He replied. He wrapped an arm around Maddie for a brief hug. "I guess we just have to wait."
"I hate this. He-he's always in a hospital bed."
"I know. I hate it too." They fell into a silence as they waited, neither sure on how to fill it.
"Family of Evan Buckley?" Someone called after a while.
"That's us." Eddie said, both he and Maddie made their way over.
"I'm his sister, this is his best friend and one of his medical proxies." Maddie introduced.
"We've ruled out a heart attack, and it doesn't seem to be a delayed response to the lightning strike."
"Oh, thank god." Maddie murmured.
"But what was it?" Eddie asked.
"We have a few ideas, some more likely than others. There has been some recent stress on the heart, so I have to ask has he been through any recent major stressors? Physical or emotional."
"He's a firefighter and dislocated his shoulder on the job a few weeks ago. But other than that-" Maddie explained.
"His boyfriend broke up with him last night. It came out of nowhere." Eddie cut in.
"Tommy did what?" Maddie seemed shocked.
"He broke up with Buck. Some bullshit about being his first not his last."
"That does tie in with what our top theory is right now." The doctor replied. "We believe it's likely to be takotsubo cardiomyopathy. That's also known as-"
"Broken heart syndrome." Maddie finished, barely holding back tears.
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kaiyunsim · 23 hours ago
Text
In between sets —
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pairing : idol!anton x male!reader
summary : after recently coming back to the gym, you are a bit rusty and forget what to do. luckily, the only other person who goes is willing to help.
warnings : SMUT!! (dni minors), unprotected sex, kinda dacryphillia, sex in a public setting, sex while hiding, (provably more but idk, pls lmk if i should add more)
a/n : THESE ANTON PHOTOS GOT ME FEELING REALLY H***Y !!! also first smut so lmk how it is and maybe i’ll do more
— (w/c : 2.7k) — not proof read — minors dni —
anton had a routine. 3-4 times a week. early mornings before practice. sometimes he would have a gym buddy which was normally sungchan, wonbin, or eunseok but this time he decided to go solo.
he always has airpods in, keeping his mind in check by playing some music. he a was used to seeing the usuals, especially since the gym is almost always empty in the early mornings but was somewhat surprised to see someone new, someone he hasn’t seen before.
the newbie seemed to be fumbling their way through the weights section, looking moody along the rows of equipment. anton couldn’t help but notice him, it was quite a cute sight to see. they weren’t decked out in typical gymwear, instead, opting for a loose hoodie and sweats. their hair was slightly disheveled, looking as if they didn’t intend on coming today but decided to give it a try anyway.
by the end of his set, anton glanced over and noticed they were staring over at a dumbbell with what seemed like frustration or confusion. it was almost endearing. with a smirk, anton walks over.
“hey,” anton starts, pulling out one of his airpods. “you new here?”
you blink to look up to him, somewhat startled, you didn’t really notice him, “uh, yeah. just…trying to get back into shape,” you say, scratching the back of your head with a shy grin. “i’m y/n”
“oh, um… i think so. i used to work out, like, two years ago? but i kind of forgot what i was doing.” you laugh, clearly a little embarrassed, and anton found himself chuckling too.
“don’t worry about it,” anton said, leaning in a little closer. “why don’t we start with something simple? i’ll spot you.”
they moved to the bench press, anton demonstrating the proper grip and form as you listened intently. anton couldn't help but notice the way your eyes lingered, just a little too long, whenever he showed you a move. you would look and keep eye contact but it would wander to view the visible muscles you can see on anton’s arms. every time he reached in to help adjust your grip or stance, he noticed a brief flicker in your gaze, almost like he was wondering if the proximity was intentional. anton found himself leaning in just a touch closer each time.
as they finished up, anton noticed that you seemed more relaxed, even playful. you lightly punched anton's shoulder as they headed to the water fountain, giving him a grin. “thanks, man. i feel like i’m getting my gym routine back”
“no problem,” anton replied, feeling a heat rise as your eyes met his, this time lingering. "you know, i don’t mind helping out… if you need someone to keep you motivated.”
you pause, then smile, his eyes narrowing slightly with a glint of interest. you found anton attractive, plus it was a gym buddy that could help you get in shape, “how about tomorrow, same time?”
“deal.” anton’s heart raced as they exchanged numbers, both a little reluctant to say goodbye.
╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴
the next morning, anton is already warmed up and stretching, tired due to having practices after his session yesterday, when he spots a familiar face coming in. today, your hoodie is swapped for a fitted t-shirt, showing more of your lean frame. anton can’t help but notice, a small blush playing on his face along with a smirk. you seems a little more confident, giving anton a nod and a smile as he heads over.
there was a change of focus today, instead of looking to work on arms, it was a day for the legs. anton guided you to the part where you squat with weights to improve your legs. trying nudge you to push yourself, anton adds more weights than you normally do so that he can spot you but as he does so you notice his eyes wandering up and down, smirk and all.
as they go through their workout, the tension between them feels more palpable than ever. you guys are talking and joking, but the physical closeness during spotting, the occasional brush of hands, and lingering eye contact hint at something more.
anton was almost certain you were flexing your muscles a bit when you caught anton watching, and anton found himself lingering longer than he usually would when spotting him.
after a few exercises, they move to the bench press again. you lay down, and anton stepped into position to spot him, standing right above him. their eyes met, and for a second, neither of them said anything. your eyes wander to his lower half before looking away and coughing hoping he didn’t notice. you start breathing a little heavier than you should have been, your gaze locked on anton’s, and the air felt thick.
anton finally broke the silence, his voice low. “you’ve got this. focus on your breathing.”
but you weren’t focused on your breathing. you barely even heard the words as anton leaned closer, hands hovering over yours, fingers just inches from touching. you could feel the heat radiating from him, and you couldn’t resist any longer. as you sit up after his last rep, you decide to stay close, closer than necessary, your knee brushing against anton’s leg.
finally, as they’re finishing up, they take a moment to rest on one of the benches near the locker rooms. you lean back, catching your breath, and give anton a sly look.
“you make this a lot more fun than i expected,” you say, your eyes glinting. “not sure i’d be so motivated without you.”
anton chuckles, feeling bold. “maybe we should work on some, uh, cool-down stretches together,” he suggests, half-joking but hoping his fellow gym goer catches the hint.
“maybe i should… uh, grab a shower after this,” you say, his voice barely a whisper. “you wanna join me?” you joke playfully.
anton didn’t hesitate. he made his way to the locker room, the silence charged with anticipation. the sound of water echoed through the empty space as he stripped off his sweaty top.
you immediately blush, and he could see your reaction. now you remain at a loss of words at the sight of anton’s body. fuck… it wasn’t the most built but he had some meat and muscle. “a-anton… i was joking” you try clear up, trying to drag him out of the locker rooms.
“well, i’m going to pretend that you weren’t” anton says, almost with a different, more teasing, energy. he tries to close the gap between them, enjoying the squirming you do when he does so.
he pushed you down on to a bench, “you don’t think i never saw you staring right?” he said playfully. his arms placed on both of your shoulders keeping you still.
your eyes widen, feeling the weight of anton makes you squirm slightly. you remain quiet, not able to form a sentence coherently in the current situation you are in.
anton kept that sly ass smirk, “why don’t you take this off?” he teases, playing with the hem of your shirt.
he was really pushing your buttons now. but you know that there was no one else in the gym because it was so early so…
fuck it.
(smut starts here)
you knew what anton was implying so you decided to catch him off guard and make the first move. you quickly close the gap between the two of you, lips colliding. your lips parted along with antons, and like that, the tension finally snaps.
their kiss was slow at first, you wanted it to be careful of course, but anton quickly takes control and it becomes more intense, fuled with the excitement building up throughout the days.
your hands find themselves on anton’s chest, fingers tracing the ridges and lines of his muscles, long with squeezing his pecs, feeling it out, almost as if you are trying to memorize them. anton’s hands find their way down to your waist, enjoying how their bodies fit perfectly.
you break the kiss to catch your breath, looking rugged and already worked up. anton sees you like this and brings back the smug smirk, with a hint of desire behind it, “you look so fucking cute right now,” he says, ruffling you rough hair while staring into your half-lidded eyes.
your usual shyness was softened by the confidence that had come from finally breaking the tension, you resch up, hand sliding to the back oh anton’s neck, and pulls him in for another kiss, slower this time to savor the moment.
anton’s hands move from over the fabric, to the shin of your waist, show removing your shirt to see your body for himself. “yknow,” anton says, running a finger along your jawline, “i don’t normally do this with gym buddies”
you undo the belt buckle to signal that your waiting for from anton, “nice to know im special” you let his pants drop seeing a bulge in his underwear. “someone wants to say hello,” kai says playfully.
anton’s smirk looks like it’s derived from something primal, “in the gym space? you’re something else” he says, giving a quick search of anyone else before pulling out his cock.
it was something else, nothing too big, but something that definitly match his body. you guys switch positions, anton sitting on the bench and you on the floor on your knees, appreciating the sight in front of you. your gaze didn’t last too long as you quickly took the head in.
his legs spread further, giving you easier access to what you want. “god… fuck…” it’s been forever since anton was able to do something like this as he is an idol. but since it was at a time where no one was around it was almost perfect for anton.
you take it deeper and deeper, bobbing up and down, keeping a steady, not so fast, pace before you feel a force from the back of your head. it was anton’s hand, pushing down further and faster. you start to gag, it was too much for you, but anton liked that. some tears started to stream and everything was getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen
“yeah, you like that?” he says with a smirk, lifting his hand from you neck to let you catch your breath. you soon pop off your motch fron his dick, heavily breathing as your vision started to get blurry.
without letting you recover, anton picks you up and places you on the bench, stripping your bottom half while doing so. now that both of you are without clothes, anton can give you some attention.
his hand runs along your thighs, eventually reaching your shaft, nice and hard. “mind if i play with this?” he asks. you give him a nod, still catching your breath.
he takes it and starts stroking it, making you react with whimpering and squirming. it was the feeling of recovery and that sumg ass smirk he kept on his face as he looks you down as he strokes you.
some moans started to leave your mouth as he stroked faster and faster, “a-anton… t-thats too much…”
“c’mon, you dont have to call me anton, what about toni? my friends call me that sometimes,” he teases you verbally, while also teasing you physically, slowing his pace on your shaft.
“t-toni…” you whimper, “i think we shouldn-“ you say before you get cut off by anton’s sneaky lips.
“that’s enough,” he says, letting go of your shaft, making you needy as he leaves you with no stimulation. you sit there, looking like an absolute mess on one of the workout benches and anton takes a step back to admire how you look.
he then spreads your legs which makes you react with surprise, “w-wait,” you retort but before you could say anymore you feel antons cock enter you.
you thought he would start off slow but it was the opposite, thrusting into you with what seemed like no other thoughts. it was probably because of how you looked like how messed up he made you already.
it was so big inside you, hitting your prostate everytime, making you a moaning mess. it was good, making your eyes roll up and back arch for better angles.
he enjoyed the warmth inside you, after being a trainee he hasn’t been able to have anything like this so his body reactes well to your warmth and tightness.
though you guys were making lots of noise you were able to hear the chime that happens when the front door opens. panicked, anton picks you up,dick still in you, and brings you to the shower room.
you’re able to hear a voice, “anton are you here? manager’s looking for you,” you arent able to distingust the voice but anton can, it was eunseok, one of his hyungs he goes to the gym with.
anton likes the sense of thrill that comes from the situation happening right now, he puts you on a shelf and smirks, hoping you get the message with whats going to happen.
he turns on the shower to cause some noise in the bathroom before starting to thrust into you again, softer this time but more calculated to a reaction from you. and it definitely did. you closed your eyes, trying to focus on the sensation. you opened your mouth to make a noise but anton covered it with his hand, “can’t have the other person know what’s happening can we?” he whispers playfully. he liked seeing you like this, recuded to a mes because of him, yet not able to express it.
“yeah eunseok, i’m just showering,” he replied, sounding normal. in reality he looked as rough and sweatt as ever.
“well, hurry up, you have an early schedule today” eunseok reminded before the same chime played, indicating he left.
anton finally lets go of your mouth, letting your whimpers and moans out only to be silenced again by his mouth meeting yours.
“god damn, just hearing you makes me wanna cum,” anton groans, head tilting back.
“y-you should…” you manage to get out between the noises he makes you make.
just by hearing that anton’s pace quickens, “fuck, you asked for it,” he says, riding his climax out, letting his fluids leak into you. he knows you’re close but haven’t came yet so he tries to put all his attention to you.
anton keeps his semi hard cock in you, slow pace just to let you enjoy, practiaclly for cockwarming. he knows you can’t cum with just him moving slowly so he grasps your shaft and starts stroking it while also putting attention to your nipples with his mouth.
anton takes his mouth off for a moment “you like that? my cock in you while you’re a moaning mess?” anton teases,
if your were moaning before, you’re fucking crying from pleasure now. it was so much happening and anton knew what he was doing to you.
he takes your hand and places it in his own pecs and lets your feel him out. as you feel everything happen all at the same time it’s only inevitable that you would reach your climax.
“toni..!” you moan the other man’s name loudly, “i-i’m gonna cum!” you scream.
you feel a large sense of euphoria while white stings of cum come out of your cock, landing on anton’s and your chest and abs. anton finally takes out his cock from your ass.
“f-fuck,” you say, recovering from the high dooamine sensation.
“let’s get you cleaned up,” he says as you both clean up from the sensual encounter you guys had. anton lets you shower but he doesn’t because he’s in a hurry as eubseok was waiting for him.
you guys both leave the locker room and you finally get to see the face of the mysterious voice. you bow to eunseok before saying bye to anton.
“why are your workout clothes on the bench?” eunseok questions while they both exit.
“oh erm,” anton stutters, trying to come up with an excuse, “i was just really sweaty,” he replies, obviously lying
“and why is your hair dry? i thought you just showered?” eunseok questioned further,
and just like that, anton knew he was fucked.
96 notes · View notes
darksturnz · 1 day ago
Text
† A SINNERS EMBRACE — matthew sturniolo x angel!reader.
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SYNOPSIS: Desperate for forgiveness, she stepped into the confession booth, unaware that the very man who was the subject of her dream was on the other side, his ears listening to her confession while his hand was wrapped around his throbbing cock. CONTENTS: heavy religious imagery・semi public masturbation (male!)・perv!matthew・fem!reader・corruption・not proofread WC: 5k
Sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows of St. Mary's Cathedral, casting colorful patterns across the polished wooden pews. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the soft murmurs of the congregation as they awaited the start of mass.
In the sacristy, Father Matthew Sturniolo stood before the mirror, adjusting his crisp black cassock. His piercing blue eyes met his reflection, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He ran a hand through his neatly styled curly brown hair, ensuring not a strand was out of place. Satisfied with his appearance, he stepped out into the nave.
As Father Matthew made his way to the altar, his gaze swept over the gathered faithful. His eyes lingered on a young woman seated near the front, her delicate features framed by soft curls held back with a ribbon. She seemed to radiate an innocent purity that drew his attention like a moth to a flame.
He began the service, his rich baritone voice filling the cathedral. His words were honey-sweet, weaving a spell of devotion over the congregation. Yet beneath the pious facade, dark desires stirred within him, hidden from all but himself.
As the mass concluded, Father Matthew descended from the altar, ready to greet his flock. His smile was warm and welcoming, yet his eyes held a calculating gleam as they once again found the young woman. He approached her slowly, his presence seeming to fill the space between them. "Good morning," Father Matthew said softly, his voice like velvet. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting. I'm Father Matthew, the newest member of our little community here."
He extended his hand, palm up in invitation. "And you are?"
The young woman looked up at him, her wide eyes shining with innocent curiosity. "Y-yes, Father. I'm Y/N, sir. It's nice to meet you." Her small hand rested lightly in his, her skin soft and warm against his own.
Father Matthew smiled, his thumb brushing ever so slightly across her knuckles. "The pleasure is all mine, Y/N. I look forward to getting to know you better."
With a final squeeze of her hand, he released her and turned to greet the other parishioners, leaving Y/N flushed and flustered in his wake. One Sunday afternoon, after the congregation had dispersed and the cathedral lay quiet, Father Matthew sought out Y/N in the empty nave. He found her kneeling before a pew, head bowed in prayer. Approaching softly, he cleared his throat to announce his presence.
"Forgive me for disturbing you, Y/N," he said gently, "but I couldn't help noticing how deeply you seem to connect with the Lord during services. Your devotion is truly inspiring and I’m sure your parents are very proud."
Y/N looked up, startled, then smiled shyly. "Oh, thank you, Father. I try my best to please them."
Father Matthew nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. "Your dedication is admirable, indeed. As your spiritual leader, I feel it's my duty to nurture that spark within you. Perhaps we could arrange some...private Bible studies?"
Y/N's brow furrowed in confusion. "Private studies, Father? But wouldn't that be improper?"
A hint of amusement danced in Father Matthew's eyes. "Not at all, dear. In fact, one-on-one instruction allows us to delve deeper into the scriptures together. I assure you, it's a common practice among clergy and their devout followers."
He reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Think of it as an opportunity to grow closer to God under my guidance. What do you say, Y/N? Would you be willing to meet with me regularly, just the two of us, to explore the Word?"
As Father Matthew's hand settled upon Y/N's shoulder, a shiver ran down her spine. The gentle pressure sent tingles through her slender frame, making her acutely aware of his proximity. His touch was warm, reassuring, and yet...different. There was a subtle intimacy to it that left her breathless and disoriented.
Y/N's cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she struggled to find her voice. "I-I mean...if it's really necessary, Father..." she stammered, her eyes darting nervously between his face and the floor. "But won't people talk if we're alone together?"
Father Matthew's fingers squeezed her shoulder lightly, a silent reassurance. "Let them talk, child. The Lord works in mysterious ways, and sometimes that means challenging societal norms for the greater good,"
"Besides," Father Matthew continued, his voice low and soothing, "our meetings will take place in a secluded area of the rectory. No one will ever need to know."
Y/N swallowed hard, her mind reeling with the implications. A private setting with Father Matthew, away from prying eyes...it felt both thrilling and terrifying. She bit her lip, torn between her desire to please him and her instinctive fear of doing something wrong.
"I...I suppose it would be a good opportunity to learn more about God's word," she ventured finally, trying to sound convincing despite her racing heart. "When did you have in mind for our first session, Father?"
Father Matthew's smile broadened, revealing a glint of approval in his eyes. "How about tomorrow evening, after dinner? I'll make sure to leave a light on for you at the door."
With a nod, Y/N agreed to the clandestine meeting, her heart pounding in her chest. She spent the remainder of the day in a daze, her thoughts consumed by the prospect of being alone with Father Matthew.
As night fell the next day, Y/N found herself standing before the rectory, a mix of trepidation and anticipation coursing through her veins. She knocked softly on the door, her knuckles trembling slightly.
After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit hallway. Father Matthew stood in the shadows, his figure imposing yet inviting. "Welcome, Y/N," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Please, come in."
She entered hesitantly, her eyes adjusting to the faint glow of candles scattered throughout the room. The air was heavy with the scent of incense and leather-bound books.
Father Matthew guided Y/N to a plush armchair positioned near a large, ornate desk. "Make yourself comfortable," he instructed, gesturing to the chair. "We have much to discuss tonight."
As she sat down, Y/N noticed a Bible lying open on the desk, its pages marked with a silver bookmark. Her gaze lingered on the ancient text, feeling a sense of reverence wash over her.
Father Matthew settled into a nearby chair, leaning back with an air of relaxed confidence. "Before we begin our study, I'd like to share a personal anecdote," he said, his tone taking on a contemplative quality. "Growing up, I often felt disconnected from the divine. It wasn't until I dedicated myself fully to serving the Lord that I truly started to understand His plan for me."
He fixed Y/N with a piercing stare, his words dripping with conviction.
"I believe that same calling exists within you, Y/N. Tonight, I hope to help you recognize and embrace it."
With those enigmatic words, Father Matthew reached across the desk, his fingers brushing against Y/N's as he handed her the Bible. Their touch sent another jolt of electricity through her, leaving her breathless.
As she opened the book, the weight of the sacred text seemed to press against her palms. Y/N felt a strange connection to the pages, as if they held secrets meant only for her ears.
Father Matthew leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Let's start with a passage that resonates with me," he suggested, pointing to a verse marked in the book. "Psalm 23, verses 3-4. 'He restores my soul; He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake."
Y/N's eyes widened as she read the familiar words, a sense of peace washing over her. She recited the verses aloud, her voice soft and reverent. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me..."
As she spoke, Father Matthew's gaze never wavered from hers, his eyes burning with an intensity that made her skin prickle. When she finished, he nodded approvingly. "Beautifully said, Y/N. Those words offer solace even in the darkest of times."
He paused, studying her face intently. "Tell me, when you pray, what do you usually focus on? Is it asking for blessings, seeking forgiveness, or perhaps longing for a deeper connection with the divine?"
Y/N shifted uncomfortably in her seat, unsure how to articulate her feelings. "I guess..."
"...I mostly pray for protection and guidance. For my family's well-being and for not doing anything wrong," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Father Matthew's expression softened, and he reached out to place a comforting hand on her knee. "Those are noble prayers, but remember, the Lord wants a relationship built on trust and openness. Don't be afraid to express your desires and fears to Him."
His touch lingered, sending warmth spreading through Y/N's legs. She found herself leaning into his palm, craving more of that comforting contact.
"Perhaps we can work on expanding your prayer life together," Father Matthew suggested, his voice low and persuasive. "Start by sharing your deepest concerns with me. I'm here to listen and guide you, Y/N."
Y/N took a shaky breath, her heart racing as she considered Father Matthew's offer. The idea of unburdening her innermost thoughts to someone - anyone - felt daunting, yet there was a part of her that yearned for this kind of intimate connection.
"I...I worry about pleasing God," she confessed, her voice trembling. "About not living up to His expectations. Sometimes I feel so small and insignificant compared to His greatness."
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she met Father Matthew's gaze. "And then there's the fear of sinning...of doing something terrible and irreparable. It keeps me up at night, wondering if I'm worthy of His love."
Her confession hung in the air, heavy with vulnerability. Y/N waited with bated breath for Father Matthew's reaction, her entire being attuned to his response.
Father Matthew's expression turned solemn, his eyes filled with compassion. "Sin is a heavy burden to carry, Y/N," he acknowledged, his voice a gentle murmur. "But know this: you were born innocent, and it's never too late to seek forgiveness and redemption."
He squeezed her knee reassuringly. "The Lord loves you unconditionally, just as you are. Your worth comes from being His child, not from achieving some lofty standard of perfection."
Leaning forward, Father Matthew rested his forearms on his thighs, bringing their faces closer together. "In fact, it's precisely your humility and willingness to acknowledge your flaws that make your faith all the more genuine and beautiful."
His words washed over Y/N like a soothing balm, easing some of the tension in her shoulders. She found herself drawn to his presence, craving the comfort and understanding only he could provide. As Father Matthew's proximity intensified, Y/N's breathing grew shallow. The scent of his cologne mingled with the musty aroma of the old books, creating a heady mixture that clouded her senses.
His warm breath tickled her ear as he whispered, "Remember, Y/N, true strength lies in vulnerability. By sharing your fears and doubts, you're taking the first step towards a deeper, more meaningful relationship with God – and with me."
One of Father Matthew's hands slid from her knee to gently cradle her cheek, his thumb stroking her skin in a tender caress. Y/N's eyelids fluttered closed, savoring the sensation of his touch.
In that moment, she felt an overwhelming urge to surrender completely to him – to let go of her inhibitions and simply exist in the safety of his presence. Father Matthew's lips hovered mere inches from Y/N's, the anticipation almost palpable. Then, with deliberate slowness, he inclined his head, allowing their noses to brush together in a fleeting, electric contact. The briefest of sighs escaped Y/N's lips as she savored the closeness, her eyes drifting shut. But before she could process the intensity of the moment, Father Matthew pulled back, breaking the spell.
Opening her eyes, Y/N found him smiling at her with an unreadable mix of tenderness and restraint. "Until next Sunday, Y/N," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "May the Lord bless and keep you in the interim."
Rising from his seat, Father Matthew offered her his arm, guiding her towards the door with a gentle pressure. As they walked side by side, Y/N couldn't shake the lingering effects of their intimate encounter. Every step felt weighted, each breath charged with a newfound awareness of Father Matthew's presence beside her.
At the entrance, he paused, turning to face her. In the dim light filtering through the stained glass windows, his features appeared almost ethereal, as if carved from shadows and moonlight.
"Farewell for now, Y/N," Father Matthew said softly, his gaze holding hers captive. "May your dreams be peaceful and your heart remain open to the mysteries of the spirit."
With that, he cupped her cheek once more, his thumb tracing the curve of her lower lip before releasing her. Then, with a final, enigmatic smile, he stepped back and watched as she disappeared into the night, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the stillness.
As Y/N retreated to the sanctuary of her bedroom, the events of the evening swirled through her mind like a tempestuous sea. Father Matthew's touch, his whispers, the weight of his gaze – each detail replayed itself in vivid Technicolor, refusing to be relegated to the realm of memory.
She slipped beneath the covers, her body thrumming with a restless energy. Try as she might, sleep eluded her, replaced instead by a kaleidoscope of forbidden fantasies.
In the darkness, Y/N's imagination ran wild, conjuring scenarios where Father Matthew's hands roamed her body with increasing boldness. She pictured his fingers trailing along her collarbone, dipping into the neckline of her nightgown to tease the sensitive skin beneath.
As the illicit visions intensified, a telltale dampness began to gather between Y/N's thighs.
Exhaustion finally claimed Y/N, her eyelids growing heavy as the fantasy montage continued to unfold behind her closed lids. With a soft sigh, she surrendered to the embrace of slumber, her dreams already tainted by the forbidden allure of Father Matthew.
In the depths of her subconscious, the scenario shifted, becoming more explicit and sensual with each passing moment. Y/N found herself lying on the cold stone floor of the rectory, her nightgown pushed up around her waist as Father Matthew loomed over her, his dark robes pooling around his knees.
His hands, once so reverent, now explored her body with a hunger that made her shiver. Fingers danced across her breasts, teasing the hardened nipples until pleasure-pain shot straight to her core. A whimper escaped her lips, muffled by the priest's mouth as he captured them in a searing kiss.
As the dream intensified, Y/N's hips bucked involuntarily, seeking friction against the damp heat building between her legs. Her hands reached down to press against Father Matthew's, urging him closer, wanting more of his touch.
Moans and gasps punctuated the erotic haze, the sounds muffled by the priest's insistent kisses. He Trailered his mouth down her neck, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin until Y/N arched off the ground, crying out in ecstasy.
In the throes of her climax, Y/N's vision blurred, colors bleeding together as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. She clung to Father Matthew, her nails digging into his arms as she rode out the intense sensations, lost to everything but the bliss consuming her.
Y/N jolted awake, her chest heaving as if she'd run a marathon. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her nightgown clung to her skin, dampened by the remnants of her climax. For a moment, disoriented and panting, she struggled to anchor herself in reality.
As the fog of sleep lifted, memories of the dream came rushing back, leaving a trail of shame and confusion in its wake. Y/N's cheeks flushed hot, and she buried her face in her pillow, mortified by the intensity of her own desires.
What had possessed her to imagine such things? Father Matthew, the man she trusted above all others, reduced to a participant in her most private, debased fantasies. The thought alone made her stomach churn with self-loathing.
Throughout the day, Y/N moved through her routine with mechanical precision, her mind consumed by the guilt gnawing at her soul. Every time her parents glanced her way, concern etched onto their faces, she couldn't help but wonder if they sensed the turmoil brewing inside her.
The telltale flush on her cheeks seemed to pulse with a life of its own, a constant reminder of the shameful secret she harbored. Each time she caught her reflection in a window or mirror, she flinched, as if the image staring back might hold some hidden clue to her innermost thoughts.
By mid-afternoon, the weight of her confession became unbearable. Y/N excused herself from the kitchen, where her mother was preparing dinner, claiming she needed fresh air. As soon as she stepped outside, however, she found herself drawn inexorably toward the familiar solace of the church.
The imposing stone structure loomed before her, its towering spires reaching toward the heavens like outstretched arms. Y/N hesitated briefly, her hand trembling as she grasped the ornate bronze handle of the massive wooden doors.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, she pushed the doors open, the creak of the hinges echoing through the empty nave. The interior was bathed in a warm, golden light, casting long shadows across the polished marble floors.
Y/N wandered deeper into the church, her footsteps echoing softly off the walls. Eventually, she found herself standing before the confessional, its wooden screen adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes of redemption and forgiveness.
With a sense of trepidation mixed with relief, she knelt before the grated opening, her voice barely audible as she whispered, "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned..."
Inside the confessional, Father Matthew listened intently as Y/N's hesitant voice filtered through the grate, her words painting a picture of guilt and contrition. His heart raced at the realization that the penitent before him was none other than the innocent, sheltered girl he had grown to care for.
Concealing his true identity, Father Matthew adopted a neutral, soothing tone, meant to provide comfort without revealing his knowledge of her personal life. "My child, please, share your sins with me, and know that you shall receive absolution."
Y/N took a shaky breath before continuing, her voice trembling slightly. "Father, I...I had a dream last night. A wicked dream. I imagined doing sinful things with someone I trust deeply, someone who should never be the subject of such thoughts." She paused, biting her lip.
"It was Father Matthew," Y/N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "In my dream, he touched me in ways no one ever has, and I felt things I shouldn't have felt. Desire, longing...even pleasure when we did things that are wrong."
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she confessed, "When I woke up, I was...I was soaked. It was as if my body betrayed me, responding to those forbidden imaginings. I'm ashamed, Father. So terribly ashamed."
Y/N waited with bated breath, her heart pounding in her chest as she awaited the priest's response, unsure whether he would offer condemnation or understanding.
Inside the confessional, Father Matthew's composure faltered at Y/N's explicit admission. The mere mention of her dream, coupled with the intimate details, sent a surge of arousal coursing through his veins. His cock twitched to life, straining against the confines of his black cassock.
Swallowing hard, he fought to maintain his calm, professional demeanor. "Tell me more, my child," he urged, his voice low and husky despite his best efforts. "Describe this dream in greater detail. What exactly transpired between you and Father Matthew?"
As Y/N began to recount the specifics – the sensation of his hands on her body, the taste of his kisses, the feeling of being taken against the cold stone floor – Father Matthew's erection grew even harder, throbbing with an almost painful intensity.
"Did he touch you intimately?" Father Matthew pressed, his curiosity piqued and his desire escalating with each word from Y/N's lips. "Was there any...physical contact beyond kissing and caressing?"
His fingers tightened around the edge of the confessional booth, imagining the tender flesh beneath Y/N's garments, the softness of her breasts, the warmth of her cunt. The mental images were almost too much to bear, stoking the flames of his lust to a near-blazing inferno.
"Please, continue," he rasped, his voice thick with need. "Every detail is important for your spiritual guidance, my child."
Father Matthew could no longer resist the temptation. With one hand, he unzipped his fly, freeing his throbbing cock from its fabric prison. He wrapped his fingers around the shaft, giving it a firm squeeze as he continued to listen intently to Y/N's detailed account of her dream.
As she described the feeling of Father Matthew's cock sliding into her virgin depths, stretching her tight walls, he began to stroke himself in earnest. Slowly at first, then with increasing urgency, he pumped his fist along his length, imagining it was Y/N's slick cunt enveloping him instead.
"Mmmm," he groaned under his breath, the sound muffled behind the wooden screen. His hips rocked in tandem with his hand, thrusting upward as if seeking to bury himself deeper into an imaginary pussy.
Y/N's blush deepened as she recounted the lewd acts from her dream, her voice quivering with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "He...he kissed me everywhere, Father. My neck, my breasts, even between my thighs. And then..."
She paused, her breath catching in her throat as she relived the sensations. "Then, he entered me. It hurt at first, but soon it felt so good. Like nothing l've ever experienced before. I wanted more, even though I knew it was wrong."
Y/N's confession hung heavy in the air, the vivid descriptions painting a scandalous picture in Father Matthew's mind. His cock throbbed painfully, straining against the fabric of his clerical robes. He could hardly believe the depraved thoughts now racing through his head.
Father Matthew's composure slipped further with each salacious detail Y/N revealed. His breathing grew ragged, punctuated by stifled groans as he continued to stroke his aching cock. The once sacred space of the confessional now reeked of sin and debauchery, the air thick with the musk of his arousal.
"Go on," he urged, his voice strained and unsteady. Gone was the calm, reassuring tone of a spiritual guide; in its place was the desperate plea of a man teetering on the brink of self-control. "Tell me everything. Don't leave out a single detail."
Y/N's innocence, her purity, only served to fuel the fire burning within him. He imagined defiling her, corrupting her, molding her into his perfect little slut.
Father Matthew's mind raced with perverse fantasies, each one more depraved than the last. In his twisted imagination, he saw himself bending Y/N over the altar, tearing away her flimsy dress to reveal her nubile body. He pictured her on her knees before him, those innocent eyes wide with shock as she took his cock into her mouth, gagging on his length.
The thought of claiming her virginity, of being the first and only man to plunge into her untouched depths, drove him wild with lust. He stroked faster, harder, chasing the release that seemed just out of reach.
Father Matthew's resolve crumbled like a house of cards, the soft sniffles emanating from Y/N proving to be his undoing. The sound of her guilt, her shame, only served to heighten his own dark desires, pushing him over the precipice of restraint.
With a strangled cry, he erupted, his seed spilling forth in hot, pulsing spurts. Ropes of cum painted the inside of the confessional, splattering against the wood in obscene patterns. His hips jerked erratically as he rode out the waves of his climax, each twitch sending another burst of semen from his spasming cock.
As the haze of orgasm slowly dissipated, Father Matthew slumped back in his seat, his chest heaving with exertion. He quickly tucked his spent member back into his cassock, zipping up his fly with shaking hands.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Father Matthew tried to compose himself, to slip back into the role of the compassionate priest. "My child," he began, his voice still slightly rougher than usual, "you mustn't blame yourself for these dreams. They are merely manifestations of your natural, God-given desires, warped by the influence of the world outside our holy sanctuary."
He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "What matters most is that you recognize the sinfulness of such thoughts and actions. Repentance is key, and you've already shown great courage in confessing these impure urges."
Father Matthew's mind raced, torn between his vows and his growing obsession with Y/N. He knew he should steer her towards prayer, fasting, and increased devotion to ward off these temptations.
Father Matthew's heart raced, his pulse pounding in his ears as he grappled with the conflicting emotions swirling within him. The urge to lead Y/N astray, to encourage her down a path of sin and debauchery, warred with his duty to guide her towards righteousness.
In the end, his own twisted desires won out. Leaning closer to the screen separating them, he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Listen closely, my child. While these feelings may seem unnatural, even sinful, I assure you that they are perfectly normal for a young woman of your age and disposition."
He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "God created us with these desires, these needs. To deny them entirely would be to go against His divine plan."
Father Matthew's voice dropped to a husky murmur, his words dripping with barely restrained lust. "If you were to act upon these urges, to explore the pleasures of the flesh with a willing partner, I don't believe the Lord would hold it against you. After all, He gave us these bodies to enjoy, to revel in their sensations."
He shifted in his seat, his spent cock already beginning to stir again at the thought of guiding Y/N into the world of carnal delights. "Should you ever find yourself tempted to cross that line, know that Father Matthew is there to offer his support, his...guidance. Together, you can navigate this treacherous terrain, ensuring that your journey remains safe and fulfilling."
Father Matthew's mind raced with possibilities, visions of stolen moments and illicit encounters dancing behind his eyes.
Father Matthew's mind raced with possibilities, visions of stolen moments and illicit encounters dancing behind his eyes. He imagined taking Y/N's hand, leading her away from the confessional and into a secluded corner of the church. There, in the dim light filtering through the stained glass windows, he would show her the true meaning of pleasure.
His fingers twitched with the urge to touch her, to explore every inch of her nubile form. He pictured her gasping beneath him, her body writhing in ecstasy as he claimed her innocence, molding her into his perfect little plaything.
Y/N's eyes widened in shock at the brazen words, her cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of crimson. She squirmed uncomfortably on the hard wooden bench, her thighs pressing together as a strange warmth blossomed between her legs.
"I...I don't understand, Father," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of confusion and budding desire. "Isn't giving in to such thoughts and urges considered a grave sin? Won't God punish me for entertaining such wicked notions?"
Despite her words, Y/N couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through her at the idea of exploring these forbidden desires. The taboo nature of it all sent a shiver down her spine, awakening something primal and hungry within her.
Father Matthew leaned closer, his breath ghosting across the screen separating them. "Oh, but that's where you're mistaken, my dear. God understands our human nature, our need for connection and intimacy. He doesn't expect us to live as celibate monks, denying ourselves the joys of the flesh."
His voice dropped to a seductive purr, each word dripping with sinful promise. "No, He wants us to embrace these desires, to revel in them with a loving partner. And who better to guide you on this journey than your humble priest?"
Father Matthew's mind raced with wicked thoughts, imagining all the ways he could corrupt Y/N.
With a trembling voice, Y/N thanked the mysterious priest for his guidance and understanding. "Thank you, Father, for hearing my confession and offering such wise counsel. Your words have brought me comfort and clarity."
She rose from the bench, smoothing her skirt with nervous hands. As she made her way out of the confessional, Y/N's mind buzzed with a whirlwind of emotions - confusion, curiosity, and a simmering undercurrent of excitement.
On the walk home, Y/N found herself replaying the priest's words in her head, trying to reconcile them with everything she'd been taught about the evils of lust and temptation. Yet, despite her best efforts, she couldn't shake the image of the handsome priest who haunted her dreams.
Father Matthew remained seated in the confessional long after Y/N had departed, his mind reeling from their encounter. The scent of her lingering perfume filled his nostrils, mingling with the musk of his own arousal.
He palmed his hardening cock through his cassock, biting back a groan as he recalled the way her voice had quivered with a mix of innocence and burgeoning desire. The thought of corrupting her, of guiding her down a path of sin and depravity, consumed his every waking thought.
Rising from his seat, Father Matthew emerged from the confessional, his gaze drawn to the spot where Y/N had stood mere moments ago. A wicked smile played across his lips as he plotted his next move, determined to make the innocent girl his own personal plaything.
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AUTHORS NOTE: first chapter >.<!! i rewrote this one a good four times and ultimately cut the wc from 16k to 5k... she’s a bit rushed but i’d like to get the boring details out of the way.
TAG LIST: @jetaimevous @sturnsblunt @riasturns @ifwdominicfike @chrissturns-wife @mattsmunch
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peachhcs · 3 days ago
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omg you should write something of an example where will has dropped everything for samy
i'd do anything for you
hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will blurb)
when samy struggles with the semester piling up will takes his chances to fly out and surprise her
1.4k words
hiiii on my posting spree fr fr. here’s a little something i wrote up :)) keep sending in requests!!!
au masterlist
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samy couldn't do it. she'd been staring at the 8 problem calculus homework for almost three hours now and none of it was clicking. it should've been easy considering she took it in high school, but something about college calculus was 100x harder than what she did a year ago. to make it worse, will was on facetime attempting to help her through the problems, but it wasn't any luck and the tears were growing thicker in her eyes. 
"i don't get it. i don't get it. i don't get it," the brunette buried her face into her arms, trying to keep the sobs from escaping. 
"you're getting so close, baby. i promise. we can take a break if you want?" will offered through the screen. 
she shook her head, "no, i can't. i need to finish this. it's due tomorrow morning and it's already 12:30." 
both of them grimaced hearing how late it was already. will had early conditioning tomorrow which meant he needed to be up in five and a half hours, yet here he was on the call trying to help the youngest hughes through her homework. 
"well, you're super close to figuring it out. you just need to derive the function," will continued softly. 
"that's what i'm doing but it just doesn't make sense. i can't do this," if anyone knew anything about samy it was that she needed to do everything perfectly or else it wasn't good in her eyes. doing homework ended in hell like this sometimes because samy just couldn't pretend like she did it and hope for the best when she turned it in. all of it needed to be correct. 
it also didn't help that there was a lot going on. homework, practice, and classes were staring to pile up as mid semester rolled around and the poor girl was definitely drowning in everything. plus, she really wished her boyfriend was there so he would just hold her and tell her it would be okay. 
"you can do this, i promise. if you could do it in high school, you can do it now," the blonde encouraged, but he saw the solemn look on his girlfriend's face and the tears. it broke his heart seeing her so upset about the homework. 
"i can't, will. i can't do this. i'm so tired from everything. class, practice, homework—i just need a break or something. wish you were here," samy rambled through her frustration. will frowned even more, hating that he wasn't a step away to be able to comfort her and wipe her tears away. 
"i know, i wish i was there too. always thinking of you, sweet girl," his little pet name brought a little blush to her cheeks as she wiped her own tears away. 
she wouldn't ever ask him to come, especially with his collegiate season fully underway. she just couldn't ask him to do that for her, even if she really wanted to. she also knew he 100% would and samy didn't want will missing anything and getting yelled at by his coach just for her. 
"i'm thinking of you, too. i'll figure it out. i should let you go. you have practice in the morning," samy finally realized the time, lifting her head back up and wiping her puffy eyes from the last of her tears. the sight hurt will's heart. 
"are you sure? i don't mind staying up," he said. 
"i'm sure. i promise. you need sleep. i need sleep," samy nodded firmly. 
"okay, well text me if you need anyting else. i love you," the blonde blew a kiss to the phone. samy did the same back before they hung up for the night. 
she decided to just give up. it wasn't worth it anymore and she needed sleep. will, on the other hand, felt horrible. he hated that he couldn't be there for her. the blonde glanced at the clock on his desk knowing that in five hours he needed to be up and it definitely wouldn't feel good, but he didn't care. 
he looked over at gabe's sleeping figure in his bed. that boy could sleep through anything which was convenient when will was on call for a bit longer with samy. he reopened his computer and clicked into expedia. 
would coach kill him? probably. would he sit bench for missing a weekend of practice? definitely. would he get a stern talking to? most likely. did will care? no. 
samy obviously needed him and if he was being honest, he needed her too. with that, will started searching for the earliest flight out to michigan in hopes that a weekend surprise would ease all of the tension. 
the brunette was at her desk again after class. she forfeited that homework and just hoped her professor would give her some grace for attempting the problems. what samy didn't know was hannah busy on her side of the room texting with will about his arrival. 
ethan and mark were tasked with picking the blonde up from the airport. they were excited that the younger boy was coming to visit knowing how stressed samy had been the past few days. luckily, gabe and ryan would do their best to cover for will but honestly, the blonde didn't care about the consequences from coach. if they wanted to bench him, they were gonna go ahead and bench him. 
hannah quickly jumped off her bed when there was a small knock on the door. samy didn't hear because of her headphones on, so she was oblivious to will poking his head in with ethan and mark behind him, phones recording. 
"she's studying," hannah whispered and opened the door wider. will smiled to himself, setting his bag down and carefully reaching out to tap his girlfriend's shoulder. 
she turned her head, expecting hannah, but when she caught sight of her boyfriend's large grin she jumped out of her chair. 
"holy shit," the girl exclaimed, jumping into his arms without a second though. the others cheered in excitement. 
"hi, baby," will continued grinning as he held her tightly.
"what are you doing here? what about practice?" the brunette had a million questions as she pulled back to really take in will's face and his presence.
"skipped them," the blonde said like it wasn't a big deal.
"what do you mean you skipped them? i thought you couldn't skip practice or else you'd get in trouble," she was in disbelief as she glanced over at hannah, ethan, and mark.
"i mean yeah, but you needed me and i felt horrible that i couldn't be there for you," his words softened her expression and she melted back into him. 
"you skipped a whole weekend of practice just for me?" the younger hughes wondered, heart feeling full because she's never had anyone say or do that for her before. 
"yup. wanted to see my girl," will beamed. 
neither of them cared about the others still in the room as they connected their lips into a sweet kiss. the three awed, happy to see the couple so happy, especially samy. 
"i love you," the brunette smiled as they pulled away.
"i love you too," will smiled back and that's when mark and ethan decided to be mark and ethan by pouncing on the blonde's shoulders.
"it's good to see you again, man. we've got good things planned for this weekend," mark smirked while samy rolled her eyes at their antics.
"i'm sure. it's good to see you guys too," the blonde laughed along. 
samy went to hannah who's lips were turned up into a smirk that she kept that secret for a good 12 hours. "surprised?" the girl wondered.
"very. thanks for getting him here," samy hugged her roommate.
"of course. anything to get you less stressed for a few days," they shared a laugh. 
she eyed her boyfriend again and he immediately met her gaze probably feeling her stare on him. the two smiled again as will reached out to wrap his arm around her torso. 
"we'll give you two some space, but then we're getting out tonight!" ethan exclaimed as him and mark trailed out of the dorm. 
"i'll go bother amelia two doors down," hannah winked making samy roll her eyes and will flush. 
when it was just the two of them samy returned her gaze to her boyfriend who was already looking at her. she pinched his cheek.
"thanks for coming. i'm really glad you're here." 
"anything for you. i hope this weekend can ease your stress," will pinched her cheeks back before placing a gentle kiss to her forehead. 
"now that you're here it definitely will," and with that, the couple climbed into samy's bed for some some much needed rest and cuddles that the two haven't had since summer ended.
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clubsmarties · 14 hours ago
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"If you tell her that she will put you up on her favorites list." He had no doubt that Emma would adore Laurel even without the compliments. Though as he thought about Emma, his smile grew. That little girl was one of his favorite people in the world. "Alright but if these stories are not embarrassing then what happens?"
"Three things? You're already more of a master chef than I am. What are your three specialities?" He presumed being at her father's kitchen would have him meet the parental figure which should have terrified Eli but instead gave him something to look forward to.
He hummed and shook his head. "Not upset but Texas wasn't supposed to be my stop. I got off the plane and was supposed to get to my connecting flight but this lady couldn't get her luggage up the stairs so I stopped to help her and that took a bit too long so ended up staying here. Aside from that I didn't have enough money to get another flight. What I did have was enough to feed me and clothe me for at least two months. Until I got a job at the diner that me not fear for the next few months." Eli chuckled and watched her flutter her pretty eyes at him. "Exactly those pretty eyes." Nodding his answer he smiled. "Yes. Warm drink of choice is hot chocolate with marshmallows. Those are so good. I just don't like the watered down chocolate." Those usually lost the taste of the chocolate. "Believe it or not they've heard a lot more absurd questions. Does your brother share may just be the most normal."
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He moved his fingers against her lips and smiled softly as he pulled up her chin to look up at him, at the weird angle he had to lower his head to press their lips together but well worth it as he took his time exploring her mouth. There was no rush in kissing her but it felt like he had been waiting ages to really take that journey around her mouth. To get inside every crevice he could. To feel her in his bloodstream. Pulling away slightly and breathing heavily he opened his eyes slowly and ran his digit over her cheeks. "We've shared haste kisses before so I needed to see how a slow make out looked like. We could continue with the questions, eat or....?" He slowly leaned against her nose and breathed evenly. Making out would not be the worst thing to pass the time.
"Ah, smart girl. She checks in on you, and she gets a bedtime story." Laurel loved listening to his stories about his siblings, just how much love and care went into his relationship with them. Frankly, she couldn't get enough of the stories, especially because she didn't have siblings. "I guess you'll have to wait to hear those stories, and you can be the judge of embarrassing or not."
She very well could've gotten lost in those shiny eyes, nodding along to his words. Laurel was not one to make promises, but she could promise to try. She wasn't too sure what it was about him, but there was something about him that invited her to try and be better. "Oh, neither do I. I know how to make three things, maybe. We'll send each other ideas, and as far as kitchen goes, we can borrow my house's. If we completely fail, I'm pretty sure my dad keeps a stash of pizza coupons."
"Were you upset about it before? Not shabby at all, I mean you'll also get a kickass education here, with it being a top school and all. Well, now I'm glad that I stuck around here, waiting for you to arrive. These pretty eyes?" she copied his move from earlier, fluttering her eyes at him. Being silly with him was so easy. "That'll be one of my first questions for them then, asking them for the stories. So, warm drink of choice is hot chocolate? Hm, I believe you, but also not sure how I can ask that without sounding like a total weirdo. Hey, does your brother share? But, good to know, no sharing here."
Laurel stood in front of him, feeling his gaze on her and she couldn't help but smile in complete wonder, curious to know what was on his mind. Did it look terrible? She thought it didn't look too bad. After all, sweats and hoodie looked fine on everyone. Right? Her laughter couldn't be helped as he took her hand, she was eager to squeeze in the space he opened up for her. "I'm sure the hoodie looks great on you, but I will be taking the compliment," she joked with a wide smile. leaning her head back to rest against him. She hummed in thought, "I'm sure we can think of some fun things to do," her fingers aimlessly playing with his hand. "Like I said earlier, I'm up for trying anything once." Her words got a bit softer, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. This felt right.
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theunholybastard · 1 day ago
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Bad Day (Papa Emeritus IV x Gender-Neutral!Reader)
Requested by @ollies-station !!! <3
Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Reader Is Hinted Trans But It's Pretty Vague, Mentions Of Body Dysmorphia/Dysphoria, 2nd Person POV
Copia hovered over you, paints smudged and halfway wiped off. He stopped in the middle of washing his face when he noticed something wasn't right with you. You lay face down in the bed, unmoving, just so done with life.
"Eh... t-tesoro, what's wrong?" Copia asks warily, head tilted like a confused puppy, eyes darting around the room awkwardly. He was never very good at comforting people. But you were the love of his life, how could he not at least try to be of help? He just can't stand to see you like this.
"Everything." You reply hoarsely, muffled by the pillow you were crying into earlier. You were hardly exaggerating, everything seemed to be going wrong and sending you further down a spiral. Not to mention, you've not been very kind to yourself today either. When you first woke up, things immediately felt off. You felt off. Looking into the mirror, you instantly felt dread, like something wasn't quite right with you. Deep rooted insecurities bubbled up to the surface, your body not feeling like your own. You just want the day to be over already, but every passing moment feels like eternity.
"Bad day, huh?" Copia sighs, sitting down on the bed with you, mindful to give you a little bit of space if you needed it. You finally lift your head up, and the sight makes Copias heart ache. Red, puffy face, tear stains down your cheeks, hair tussled and greasy. You hadn't even gotten a chance to shower that morning, notably the first sign today wasn't going to be all that great. You probably looked like a hot mess right now, but to Copia, you were the most beautifully ethereal being he'd ever laid his eyes on, no matter what state you were in.
"Is there anything I can do?" Copia asks concernedly, softly stroking your back with a gloved hand. "Do you want to talk about it? It might make you feel better."
"Maybe... But there's still so much stuff I have to do today-"
"Non importante. Whatever needs to get done today, I will do it for you. You've had enough stress put on you today, now it's time for you to relax. Now, tell your Papa what is wrong, okie dokie?"
You couldn't help yourself, airing out all your grievances to him. You spared no details, every little thing that went wrong and every little worry you had was brought to his attention, and he listened intently to every word. That was the one thing he's always been very good at. Listening. And he was right, it did make you feel a little better, especially with how earnest you could tell he was.
When it was all said and done, he said nothing at first, simply holding you close to his chest, his warmth and sweet smell of cologne quickly lulling you into a sense of security and comfort. You knew you always had a safe space with him.
"Bad days come and go, amore. You must keep in mind that this won't last forever. The good days will come back sooner than you think. And yes, maybe they will fleet sooner than you want them to as well, but the important thing is that they will come again. Look outside, tesoro..." You did as you were told, gazing out the window to see the sun slowly setting over the horizon.
"The day is almost over, you see? And tomorrow is a new day. A better day. Why don't you sit here for a moment and focus on that while I run you a nice relaxing bath, hm? I'll quickly run whatever errands you have left today, and after that I'll order some takeout for the two of us, how's that sound? I'll get you whatever you want."
"And... And can we maybe watch something after? And cuddle?" You sniffle. A comfort show would be great right now. He smiles. "Of course! Anything for my baby." He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, pulling away to get up and do the tasks he promised. You quickly grab the lapels of his jacket, keeping him from leaving you so soon.
"Copia... You know you don't have to do this, right? I'll be fine, really." You murmur, self conscious and worried that you're asking too much of this sweet, perfect man you've somehow managed to claim as yours. He chuckled.
"I know, amore; I want to. I want to make you happy, I want to make things easier for you. Because I love you. Because you deserve that. Capisci?" He says, a gentle firmness in his soft-spoken voice. Hesitantly, you nod. Still, you don't let go of his jacket just yet.
"Could you stay with me for just a little while longer?" You ask, hopeful and bleary eyed. He grins.
"As long as you need, tesoro."
-
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carryonthroughtheages · 1 day ago
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Carry On Through the Ages 2024 Masterlist
COTTA is a Simon Snow fandom event where content creators celebrate their love of history along with their love of Snowbaz. We had open posting this past week, and I am so excited to see the incredible content everyone came up with!
Here's a handy list of contributions:
Fanfiction:
(You can also view our collection over at AO3 here)
"give them hope, give them strength, give them life" by @wellbelesbian (Tumblr post) Rated M, Chapters 2/2 posted, late 20th century AU.
A look into Simon and Baz's life through the years. Set after Shoulder To Shoulder, Hand To Hand (from COTTA 2023).
"Fin de siècle" by @ninemagicks (Tumblr post) Rated T, Chapters 1/5 posted, a turn-of-the-20th-century AU.
It's 1900, and as one century is set to be put to rest, its successor seems destined for a treacherous start. T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch, famed Book Keeper, spends his days repairing magickal texts infected by a rampaging spell-chewing malaise. When he receives a knock at the door late one night, he allows a stranger to slip into his life whom it might prove difficult to ever be rid of... ...Simon Snow, naturally, is no ordinary customer. He couldn't tell you the last book he read if his life depended on it, for one thing. The other thing is that he's really a thief, and one on a mission. No magickal bookshop or much-maligned Book Keeper is safe...
"The Bishop's Escape" by @run-for-chamo-miles (Tumblr post) Rated M, Chapter 1/1 posted, medieval era AU
Simon and Baz find a connection. Then, they try to hold onto it. Baz has to battle the conformist voices in his head, and Simon needs some time before he’s ready to open up about his past.
"My Favorite Things" by @run-for-chamo-miles (Tumblr post) Rated T, Chapter 1/1 posted, 1960's AU
1965; Simon gets Baz tickets to a show at ABC Theatre.
"In Truth" by @fiend-for-culture (Tumblr post) Rated M, Chapters 2/12 posted, Regency era AU
A Regency Era AU in which the long absent Tyrannus Basilton makes a reappearance in society at the start of London's Social Season much to the thrill and torment of his former roommate one Simon Snow.
Fanart:
“Spit it out Pitch, I know you’re plotting something!” by @alexalexinii (Film Noir)
"An old photograph" by @ic3que3n (inspired by a vintage photograph)
"Hostis Humani Generis" by @lamentable-comedy (Pirates!)
"Soda Jerk" by @rimeswithpurple (Norman Rockwell inspired, 1950's)
"A Prophesied Rivalry" by @iamamythologicalcreature (Ancient Egyptian AU, collab with @monbons)
"Baz and the Prophecy" by @monbons (Ancient Egyptian AU, collab with @iamamythologicalcreature)
Thank you everyone for a truly phenomenal event!
And a huge thank you to @bazzybelle for creating this fandom event in the first place. Thank you so much for trusting me with this <3
See you again next year for COTTA 2025!
(If I missed anything in this list, please let me know! And if you submit something after this goes up, lmk and I'll edit your entry in. Cheers!)
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limerence-17 · 8 hours ago
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leave the door open
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based on: number 7.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
masterlist
warnings: 18+ mdni
word count: 1.6k
A/N: all characters are 18+ here. obx season 4 didn't have to make rafe this sexy but here we are and i hope u all enjoy <3 also psa yes i know kinktober is over but i feel kinky all year and what about it
i wasn't going to touch myself. in fact i wasn't even thinking about it, and yet here i was about to spend the night at my best friend sarah cameron's house and all i could think about was the way her older brother looked coming into the house after getting off his motorbike. the way his hair swayed as he ran his hands through it, and the way he grunted as he walked by us in the kitchen.
he didn't even make eye contact and yet i couldn't stop myself from staring right at him as he walked by.
but here i was laying in the guest room, in this giant house that i still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that my best friend lived in and all i could think about was god damn rafe cameron.
────── 〔✿〕──────
that night, it was rather warm out, but i was feeling tired, dazed perhaps. sarah had come into my room, told me john b wanted to see her which was predictable as usual and snuck out through the guest room window. she told me she'd be back by 7 am which meant i'd be spending the night on my own. i didn't mind it but it could get lonely.
the sun was setting, and i felt strange spending such a lovely summer evening inside getting ready for bed but i suppose that was alright considering i spent the entire day out and about.
i nustled my legs smoothly against the satin sheets. something about staying at the cameron's house always reminded me of staying in some nice hotel. everything just smelt clean, like oranges and fresh air.
my shorts rode up my ass slightly, but i paid hardly any notice to them. it was so hot out anyway. i turned over, glancing outside the window. it was quiet out, too quiet and yet my mind wandered back to rafe in the kitchen. his hair falling ever so slightly in front of his eyes, the way he smelt. like sea salt and expensive cologne.
i couldn't help but shift my body so that my back laid against the bed, slowly arching my back as my hand glided to my shorts, placing soft slow circles against my clit. slowly, but i applied more pressure the more i circled. i couldn't help but let out a moan and had to cover my. mouth as i continued on. i wanted to take off my shorts as i thought about rafe. his hands, his hair, god his hands.
"holy fuck...rafe..." i moaned out in a hushed whisper.
my eyes kept closed, but my fingers continued to roam beneath the sheets until i heard a creak that was louder than i would've thought. i stopped dead in my tracks, moving both of my hands up over the sheets pulling them up swiftly to my chin.
oh my god it was rafe cameron. standing there with his zip up sweater, and clean cut pants. but the way he looked at me, well i couldn't tell what he was thinking but his eyes were wide. very wide.
"shit i didn't mean-"
"swear to god i wasn't listening or anything," said rafe dumbly. he ran his right hand over his mouth, looking at the ground.
"whatever you think you saw or heard or whatever the fuck you didn't rafe!" i was too embarrassed to muster up anything else. i just held the covers high.
"hey it's no big deal seriously... i mean i jerked one off like six hours ago so like-"
"jesus rafe, i mean it! delete this from your mind or i swear to god i'll-"
"see the thing is i can't really delete that from my mind. you moaning my name and all..." rafe closed the door behind him and took a few steps towards the bed.
"oh fuck you heard that?" i was mortified. just mortified. what was wrong with me?
"now the thing is...you're my sister's best friend so so like... i mean that's kinda fucked up-you thinking about me while you touch yourself and shit," rafe said in a drawl, using his hands to express it. rafe was now sitting at the edge of the bed. his eyes were glancing around quickly, his thoughts clearly racing.
i lowered the sheets but made sure that they were still just above my chest. but holy fuck, i was soaking wet now.
"but hey it makes sense- the way you look at me, always thought it was in my head and shit but-"
"it's not." i interrupt him. the more he looks at me the more i just picture his tongue in my mouth and i'm starting to get needy, my legs are clenching together now.
rafe's eyebrows raised, and he froze for a moment. but then his hands slowly crept up the sheets grabbing my thigh. i gasped feeling his hand there. his eyes widened, watching my expression.
"this what you were thinking about, huh?" his hand crept up agonizingly slow. i couldn't get a word out. just stiffled moans until eventually the sheets were down below my chest.
i let out a longing sigh as i felt his sturdy hand cup my pussy, using his other hand to move the bedsheet off completely, exposing me completely.
he looked up, asking for approval as his hands slowly tugged at the hems of my shorts and i nodded quickly.
"yes rafe."
rafe obliged immediately, pulling my shorts down, i pulled my tank top over my head. my legs lifted in the air as he threw them onto the floor. he slowly separated my legs, ogling at my obviously wet cunt.
he used his middle and ring finger to slowly trace a line up against my folds and i gasped at the touch.
"god damn my sister's best friend is a little slut huh? you're wet as shit and that's all for me huh?"
all i could let out was an innocent "mhmm," since the feeling of his fingers tracing against my folds was driving me lust drunk.
"yeah... i'm gonna need to taste you...." he said, now crouching so that his head was between my thighs.
"wait rafe-" rafe stopped immediately, glancing up at me.
"take off your shirt."
rafe smirked, obliging as he pulled it over his head, and i felt my eyelids grow heavy from lust as i looked at his chest. jesus, he was ridiculously hot. my best friend's ridiculously hot older brother was about to eat me out.
this time, more aggressively he separated my thighs and before i could comprehend it his lips were against my pussy. his tongue moved up and down, circles against my clit. as if it was instinct, i gripped at the bedframe. but it didn't last long as he gripped my hips, pulling me in closer to him. my thighs tightened against his head and it felt insane. i'd never had someone eat me out like this. so hungrily and quickly. he was incredible.
"shit you taste fucking unreal-" he grunted and gasped before licking me once more.
rafe's tongue moved quickly but he pulled away, moving so that he was now on top of me. he made eye contact before inserting a finger into me and i gasped. it was only a few pumps, hard and fast before he pulled out.
"taste yourself-" he said and i obliged, sucking on his finger. rafe licked his teeth, letting out a low hum of a laugh as he watched.
"you are fucking wild-" he said. my hands reached towards his pants and he looked down and then back up at me.
"what- you wanna feel me too?"
"rafe i wanna feel all of you- i want you inside me."
that set him off and he quickly reached to his pants, pulling them down along with his briefs. he was hung, like way more than i ever would've imagined. and hard too.
"looks like i'm not the only one whose this turned on either huh?"
rafe let out a sarcastic laugh "ha...ha...."
he got on top once more, this time pinning my legs higher in the air.
"yeah fuck i need to see all of you when i fuck you," rafe commanded.
"you're on that girl pill or whatever it is right?" rafe asked. i let out a quiet snicker.
"birth control, rafe? yeah i am," i said running my hands through my hair.
rafe nodded quickly, obviously thankful since it was clear neither of us brought condoms.
he positioned himself so that his tip was directly against my folds and then slowly pushed himself into me. i gasped, immediately reaching my fingernails against his back.
rafe grunted as his pumps started slow, but eventually quickened up. he moved quickly, thrusting and grunting into me. i let out stifled moans and he clasped his hand over my mouth.
"hey...hey... you've gotta be more... quiet than that... holy....fuck" rafe moaned between thrusts.
his paced quickened, his strong arms now moving to my waist as he pulled me to the edge of the bed. he thrusted deafening quick and i clenched my fist placing it against my mouth in a stupid attempt to silence myself. he was too fucking good at this. too strong, too fast, too fucking hot.
"don't stop! rafe jesus i'm gonna cum!"
"shit... me fucking too..."
it only took a few more thrusts before i let out a stiffled sigh and rafe collapsed, falling on top of me. both of us sweating, exhaling and my hands running through his hair.
he pulled away, laying beside me. i turned over to meet his gaze, my hands still running through his hair. he looked back at me.
"alright round two-"
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offtorivendell · 2 days ago
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Why is Azriel so "different"?On Dusk, Hel and the Valg...
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This post was written for @azrielappreciationweek Days 1, 2 and 3: Cool Quiet, Scarred and Belonging
Disclaimer: the following is only a theory which, as usual, makes no claim of being canon. It's LONG, even though I've almost certainly forgotten to add some thoughts I've misplaced. I'm sorry, but by the time I realised how stupidly long it would be I cbf splitting it up into smaller posts, so... no offence taken if this gets chucked into the too-hard basket.
My thanks, as always, go out to the lovely @wingedblooms, @ladynightcourt3 (the queen of quotes), @silverlinedeyes, @psychologynerd, @elrieldreamer, @cassianfanclub @shitwillnotbegiven, and anyone else who has helped me process my thoughts along the way. 💜
Spoilers: the entire Maasverse is referenced, reader beware.
One theory that seems to be (mostly lol) accepted across the fandom is that Azriel, the shadowsinger of Prythian's Night Court, may be more than simply Illyrian. Back in 2021, before reading the Crescent City series, I had wondered whether he might be descended from the Dusk Court (here, here and here), but after HOSAB was published - and then HOFAS especially - I had other thoughts. This post is just incredibly fucking belated.
Firstly, what evidence do we have to suggest that Azriel is different?
Quite a bit, in my opinion. From the moment Feyre met Azriel back in ACOMAF, there have been hints that, even beyond his seven siphons, he is not your average Illyrian warrior. That he may, in fact, be significantly different even to Rhys and Cassian.
As we can see, Feyre felt his otherness right from the start.
But the second male, the more classically beautiful of the two … Even the light shied from the elegant planes of his face. With good reason. Beautiful, but near-unreadable. He’d be the one to look out for—the knife in the dark. Indeed, an obsidian-hilted hunting knife was sheathed at his thigh, its dark scabbard embossed with a line of silver runes I’d never seen before. Rhys said, “This is Azriel—my spymaster.” Not surprising. Some buried instinct had me checking that my mental shields were intact. Just in case. - ACOMAF, chapter 16
Now, there's a lot to unpack in that brief passage - and I aim to do so over the course of this post - but let's begin with Feyre's instinct to ward against Azriel; a reaction that was unique to him. This was followed by further suggestions that Azriel is not purely Illyrian throughout the rest of the series, some of which are quite blatant.
Cassian finished his laughing. “Illyrians are certainly not High Fae. And glad of it.” He hooked his black hair behind an ear—rounded; as mine had once been. “And we’re not lesser faeries, though some try to call us that. We’re just—Illyrians. Considered expendable aerial cavalry for the Night Court at the best of times, mindless soldier grunts at the worst.” “Which is most of the time,” Azriel clarified. I didn’t dare ask if those shadows were a part of being Illyrian, too. - ACOMAF, chapter 16
"You'll get used to it—the wording," he said. Clinging to him so tightly, I couldn't see his face. I watched the light shift inside the sapphire Siphon instead, as if it were the great eye of some half-slumbering beast from a frozen wasteland. "I don't really know where I fit in any- more," I admitted, perhaps only because the wind was screeching around us and Rhys had already winnowed ahead to where Cassian's dark form flew-beyond the wall. "I've been alive almost five and a half centuries, and I'm not sure of that, either," Azriel said. - ACOMAF, chapter 22
Azriel just shook his head. "I'll go. The Prison sentries know me—what I am." - ACOWAR, chapter 16
I was rasping for breath, sweat sliding down my spine, by the time he said, "Good." He cleared his throat. "I know you're not Illyrian, but amongst their kind, it is considered inappropriate to touch someone's wings without permission. Especially females." Their kind. Not his. - ACOWAR, chapter 19
One glance at Azriel’s unreadable face and I added, “Don’t bother to answer that.” A corner of Azriel’s mouth curled up, the shadows about him sliding over his neck like living tattoos, twins to the Illyrian ones marked beneath his leathers. Shadows different from anything my powers summoned, spoke to. Born in a lightless, airless prison meant to break him. Instead, he had learned its language. Though the cobalt Siphons were proof that his Illyrian heritage ran true, even the rich lore of that warrior-people, my warrior-people, did not have an explanation for where the shadowsinger gifts came from. They certainly weren’t connected to the Siphons, to the raw killing power most Illyrians possessed and channeled through the stones to keep from destroying everything in its path. The bearer included. - ACOFAS, chapter 7
"Azriel can winnow all the time, though." "Az is different. In a lot of ways." His tone didn't invite further questioning. - ACOSF, chapter 16
He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. - ACOSF, Azriel's Bonus Chapter
There was even a hint or two about Azriel's possible Starborn heritage in HOFAS, thanks to Bryce.
“What have you done?” Azriel rasped, and Bryce twisted to find him on his feet, wings tucked in, Nesta leaning against him as if wounded, Ataraxia dangling from her grip. The male now held the Starsword at the ready, Truth-Teller gripped in his other hand. He must have had some sort of Starborn blood in him, then—a distant ancestor, maybe. Or maybe his possession of the knife somehow allowed him to also bear the Starsword. - HOFAS, chapter 24
Obviously Azriel is still Illyrian, I don't know anybody who disputes that in a non-crack theory manner, but it seems likely to me that he's also something more¹. All of the above hints about his shadowsinging powers, his own feelings of otherness to his people, and - potentially² - his ability to smell the Elucien bond as Lanthys did Nessian, the fact that we have yet to meet his mother? Is it simple coincidence, or intentional hints?
I could definitely be wrong, but I'm choosing the latter.
¹ "More" as in quantity, not quality. This is by no means a diss at Cassian or Rhys.
² To be fair, the true mate theory could also explain this; by the point in ACOSF that Nesta and Cassian met Lanthys they'd already been intimate, even if their bond was not yet "accepted."
The Dusk Court
As mentioned above - here, here, and here - I've been wondering for a long while if Azriel could be connected to the Dusk Court (or what remains of it).
I'd even started a meta on it, one of many that I lost track of and then never got around to finishing because my magpie brain latched onto other shiny theories or books, but the gist of it was that Azriel's mother (or, more likely imo, a distant female relative, such as his grandmother) hailed from Dusk. Given I thought the Hewn City/Court of Nightmares was the Dusk Court acting as a sub court to the Night Court, I had written an entire spiel about how one of Lord Thanatos' troublesome daughters may have been this female ancestor who fell in love and had a child with an Illyrian warrior who died prematurely, leaving her with nothing (not even a family who would take her back, because Hewn City bullshit amiright? Especially if she was unable to have further children after birthing a winged child), and that we hadn't met Azriel's mother yet because she might have spoilery traits like small/different wings or her own shadows. I went a lot deeper - funnily enough, my thoughts actually mirrored quite a bit of Hunt's mother's relationship with the father he never met (HOFAS, chapter 61) - and even wondered if this was partly why the Darkbringers and Illyrian soldiers disliked each other in ACOWAR... but those are the basics.
HOSAB then gave a different sort of importance to Lord Thanatos, but I don't think it necessarily precludes my original theory being right somehow, especially as "daughter" might be used as loosely as "son" was by Apollion in HOFAS, to mean that some power was donated for their creation. Even now, I still suspect Azriel may have hidden - or even corrupted - Starborn powers, which should indicate some minimum level of Dusk-based heritage.
While we now know the Made blades can be wielded by the Starborn - descendants of the Dusk Court - in addition to Made faeries such as Elain Archeron, I always suspected that Truth-Teller was much more important than we knew from the start (and I know I'm not the only one intrigued by the blade). After reading Crescent City, the parallels between Azriel's and Ruhn's almost guardianship of their respective magical blades until a female character³ came along to activate their power seemed to be significant (though of course with Elain it's still hypothetical, as we haven't had her POV yet).
³ Bryce may have been Theia's magical heir (though I suspect it may be through Ember rather than Einar), but she lives on Midgard - an entirely different planet. While the Archeron sisters may (or may not) spring from more humble beginnings than Fae royalty, imo they do share some notable parallels with Bryce and Theia herself. I discussed those in this post after HOSAB came out; since reading HOFAS, I suspect the Archeron sisters will grow to, as a unit, replace the Starborn magic that Bryce took, leaving Prythian unguarded. The power of three will set the land free, so to speak.
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But back to Azriel. We know that Ruhn Danaan - the shadowy male who claimed the Starsword/Gwydion until a female associated with light came along and was able to activate its magic... sounds familiar, huh - is a Starborn prince who can wield shadows, and has some powers that appear similar to Az (shadow walking and mind speaking), though imo it may have been suggested that his light - aka Pelias' light - might be considered corrupt by Rigelus (while posing as Aidas).
Is Azriel's light magic corrupted as well?
“You knew the last Starborn Queen?” Ruhn asked. Starlight glinted among Ruhn’s shadows, shimmering down the length of his sword. Aidas’s eyes now flared with a strange sort of rage as he looked upon the Fae Prince. “I did. And I knew the sniveling prince whose light you bear.” A ripple of stunned silence went through the room. [...] “Theia was dead by that point,” Aidas said flatly. “Pelias slew her.” He nodded to the Starsword in Ruhn’s hand. “And stole her blade when he’d finished.” He snarled. “That sword belongs to Theia’s female heir. Not the male offspring who corrupted her line.” - HOSAB, chapter 15
Morven’s shadows gathered at his fingers, his shoulders. Wild, angry shadows that Ruhn’s own balked to meet. They seemed corrupted somehow, like those Seamus and Duncan wielded mentally. “You are Starborn. You have an obligation to our people.” - HOFAS, chapter 51
Further, Cormac and Morven Donnall are both Starborn and Avallen faeries, with "wild" shadows that seem to more closely mirror Azriel's own.
“How the hell did you manage to survive this long without anyone killing you?” Cassian tipped back his head and laughed, a full, rich sound that bounced off the ruddy stones of the House. Azriel’s brows flicked up with approval as the shadows seemed to wrap tighter around him. As if he were the dark hive from which they flew and returned. - ACOMAF, chapter 16
Azriel nodded his agreement, his shadows twining around him. Most of the camp women had ducked into their homes when he’d appeared. - ACOWAR, chapter 18
She set down her teacup. “Is that a threat, Shadowsinger?” Cassian took a long drink from his own tea. Drained it to the dregs. Azriel said coolly, “I don’t need to resort to threats.” The shadows coiled around him, snakes ready to strike. - ACOSF, chapter 8
Azriel nodded his agreement, his shadows twining around him. Most of the camp women had ducked into their homes when he’d appeared. - ACOFAS, chapter 26
The thought was … not comforting. But neither were the shadows that curled like snakes around the king, wild and twining. A coiled crown of them sat atop Morven’s dark head, blacker than the Pit. - HOFAS, chapter 47
Without delving into the "why" of their wildness - was it the magical imbalance of the chained land that led to their wilder shadows, their prolonged proximity to an incredibly strong thin place (the obsidian or mists), was their line intentionally corrupted by a high power as Prythian's Cauldron was, or do they potentially have ties to demons, or the princes of Hel themselves? - it's not implausible to suggest that Azriel could also hail from the Starborn Fae of the Dusk Court, same as Rhys.
That being said, I think Hel will also play a part...
Prince of Hel
As I suggested in this reblog of @nikethestatue's post from way back when, I've been eyeing off one Lord Thanatos of the Hewn City (and his wayward, troublesome daughters) for a while. So when SJM dropped the bomb in HOSAB that the Prince of the Ravine, the soul eater, was called Thanatos, I was basically shaking my feet and screaming internally.
Because it had to be the same being, right? Right?!
I know I'm not the only one who noted the use of Thanatos' name, as others across the fandom have since suggested that Azriel may be related to the princes of Hel, or even be one himself... and as I've said before, I would not be surprised if this was the case (actually, at this point I would be shocked if Azriel wasn't related to the Hel Princes in some way, especially after what we learnt of Hunt's ancestry in HOFAS).
“Fine,” Hunt cut in. “Great, we’re protected.” He eyed the Prince of the Pit. His very bones shook, but he forced himself past his fear, his dread. “What the fuck did you mean by calling me son?” Thanatos scoffed. “You are no son of his.” He yanked off his war helmet, cradling it under an arm. “If anything, you are mine.” Hunt’s knees buckled. “What?” [...] “Because the Princes of Hel cannot be contained by the black crowns. The Asteri learned that—it was their downfall. As you were made by Hel’s princes, it should not be able to hold you.” Made by them? By these fuckers? - HOFAS, chapter 59
“Can we please rewind for a moment?” Bryce cut in. “You guys made the thunderbirds to complement my power—in case I never got the sword and knife, and if I ever needed a boost to open the Rift. But when they were hunted down, you … made Hunt, and then I was born …” “Athalar was already enslaved by then,” Aidas said, “but we kept a close watch.” Apollion nodded to Hunt. “Why do you think you’re so adept at hunting demons? It’s in your blood—part of me is in your blood.” Nausea clawed its way up Hunt’s throat. The thought of owing anything at all to the Prince of the Pit … “Just as he gave over some of his essence for the kristallos,” Thanatos said, “so he gave something to me for you. His Helfire.” “Helfire?” Bryce demanded. “The lightning,” Thanatos said, waving an irritated hand. “Capable of killing almost anything. Even an Asteri.” “That’s how you killed Sirius?” Bryce asked. “With your … Helfire?” “Yes,” Apollion said, then added to Hunt, “Your name was a nod to that, whispered in your mother’s ear as you were born. Orion … master of Sirius.” “Clever,” Hunt snapped, then demanded, “Wait—my lightning can kill the Asteri?” Hope bloomed, bright and beautiful in his chest. “No,” Apollion said. “It is … diluted from my own. It could harm them, but not kill them. I believe your mother’s angelic blood tempered my power.” - HOFAS, chapter 61
“Your father knew your mother briefly,” Aidas said. “And he knew having a partner would help lift her from her poverty. He had every intention of staying. Of leaving behind his life and raising you in secret.” Hunt could barely ask, “What happened?” “The mystics told Rigelus of your father’s connection to us. They didn’t discover everything—nothing about you or your mother. Only that he had been speaking to us. Rigelus had him brought in, tortured, and executed.” Hunt’s heart stalled. “He didn’t break,” Apollion said with something like kindness. “He never mentioned your mother, or her pregnancy. The Asteri never knew you were tied to him in any way.” - HOFAS, chapter 61
Bryce squeezed his knee, her hand so warm—or was he unnaturally cold? “Okay, so Hunt was made to be a backup battery for me—” “Can I do the same for Ruhn, then?” Hunt interrupted. “No,” Thanatos said. “The prince’s light, his affinity for these thin places, isn’t strong enough. Not like hers.” Hunt gripped Bryce’s hand atop his knee. “Is it in my DNA that Bryce and I are mates? Was that engineered, too?” “No,” Aidas said quickly, “that was never intended. I think that was left to higher powers. Whatever they may be.” Hunt turned to Bryce and found nothing but love in her eyes. He couldn’t stand it. Horror cracked through him, as chilled as hoarfrost. He’d been created by these males to give and to suffer, and where the fuck did that leave him? Who the fuck did that make him? “Okay,” Bryce said, “Helfire and starfire: a potent combination. But Helena left all this shit to help end this conflict. It sounds like you guys just want me to open a gods-damned door for you to come in and save the day instead.” - HOFAS, chapter 61
Thanatos used some of Apollion's helfire (lightning) to create Hunt as a weapon for Bryce, so it stands to reason that he may have done something similar in the Hewn City/Court of Nightmares that eventually resulted in Azriel, possibly with a different Prince of Hel - was it Koschei, or even himself - leaving "poisoned honey" on Prythian in case the Daglan/Asteri ever regained power? Feyre once referred to Azriel as a "dark hive," and we now know that he often helped Cassian to hunt down monstrous creatures like Blue Annis... could this be why? Does he have a natural talent for it, like Hunt? Was Az also created for a specific purpose?
I've been on the "Azriel and Elain are carranam" train from the time I joined the fandom, and since then I really do think that the three brothers and three sisters will act as paired conduits to save their world, as I mentioned in my third note above. In addition to the parallels I've noted between the Archeron sisters and Bryce (and Theia), Elain and Az shared a "charged" glance in ACOSF.
Nesta shook her head slowly, not understanding. Elain just linked her arm through Nesta’s and led her toward the family room, where Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it. “I was just checking on dessert,” Elain explained as they approached the doorway and Azriel. Nesta met the shadowsinger’s stare and he gave her a nod. Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room. - ACOSF, chapter 58
The very first book of the ACOTAR series confirmed that magic can appear as a charge in Prythian...
I opened my mouth to again ask him for his name, but a growl of annoyance rippled out of him. I didn’t have a chance to struggle, to fight back, when a charged, metallic tang stung my nose. Exhaustion slammed down upon me and blackness swallowed me whole. [...] I awoke with a jolt atop the horse, secured by invisible bonds. The sun was already high. Magic—that’s what the tang had been, what was keeping my limbs tucked in tight, preventing me from going for my knife. - ACOTAR, chapter 5
And then HOFAS gave us this - Azriel learning that he can charge up a Starborn Fae. A point that was so important to make that SJM ignored - or had reasons we are yet to learn - the fact that Azriel could have winnowed the three of them across the gap himself. Curious, given how she made doubly sure we knew how "different" Az was in ACOSF.
But Bryce frowned deeply at Azriel. “Do you ever use that power to, uh, charge people up?” “Charge?” “Fuel. Um. Give your power to someone else to help their power.” “Are you implying that I could do such a thing to you?” “I’m pretty sure the concept of a battery won’t have much meaning here, but yeah. My magic can be amplified by someone else’s power.” The other untranslatable word—battery—lay heavy on her tongue. But Nesta looked her over. “For what purpose?” “So I can teleport.” Another word that didn’t translate. “Winnow.” She pointed to the other side of the divide. “I could winnow us over there.” - HOFAS, chapter 16
Obviously there's always the possibility that SJM simply wrote that Azriel didn't winnow because A) he didn't want to expose any further facets of his magic unnecessarily to a Fae he had no reason to trust, or B) he wanted to see what Bryce could do, but what if it was C) that he lacked the strength to winnow at the time, as @ladynightcourt3 has so brilliantly thought? Because potentially, if light can blind an Oracle - one who may or may not use the murky realm of the Void to See - then there's a possibility that their growing proximity to the power chained deep in the land, or even Vesperus herself, may have made Azriel less able to see where he was going with his shadows to safely winnow them. Or was it that, similarly to whatever bond that exists between Elain and Lucien becoming too much for Azriel to bear, maybe the singing between Gwydion and Truth-Teller was distracting him?
As an aside, furthering the parallel between Hunt and Bryce that I noted earlier, I think the following passages support the idea that Azriel may be able to charge Elain, or that Elain can charge him as well, in addition to suggesting that he may be able to sense minds, or enter some that are more susceptible.
And what Hybern would do to Elain, might already be doing— From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.” - ACOWAR, chapter 64
Azriel slid back the curtain— Elain was in her nightgown. Gagged, wrists wrapped in steel that glowed violet. Her eyes went wide as she saw us—Azriel and me— I shifted my face back into my own, raising a hand to my lips as Azriel knelt before her. I kept up my litany of praying, beseeching the Cauldron to make my womb fruitful, on and on— Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. “Are you hurt?” She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.” The shadowsinger only inclined his head. “Hurry,” I whispered, then resumed my prayer. We had until it ran out. - ACOWAR, chapter 65
Azriel’s power gave out on the outskirts of our camp. The girl, despite the burns and lashings on her moon-white skin, was able to walk. The gray light of morning had broken over the world, mist clinging to our ankles as we headed into that camp, Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. He dripped blood behind him the entire time—a trickle compared to the torrent that should be leaking out. Contained only by the patches of power he’d slapped on it. Help—he needed a healer immediately. - ACOWAR, chapter 65
Azriel didn’t give Rhys a chance to reconsider. Didn’t say good-bye to any of us. He shot into the sky, those still-healing wings beating hard as they carried him toward the scrambling northern flank. - ACOWAR, chapter 71
Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. "Nesta wouldn't appreciate the joke.” He offered her a smile back. "I wasn't sure if I should give you your present." He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days. - ACOSF, Azriel's bonus chapter
Bryce squeezed his knee, her hand so warm—or was he unnaturally cold? “Okay, so Hunt was made to be a backup battery for me—” “Can I do the same for Ruhn, then?” Hunt interrupted. “No,” Thanatos said. “The prince’s light, his affinity for these thin places, isn’t strong enough. Not like hers.” - HOFAS, chapter 61
We know that Elain likely shares that strong affinity for thin places, as may Az. Feyre mentioned the gray light of morning, mist around their ankles. Does this make them the ideal conduits for each other, as Hunt and Bryce were? As Feyre and Rhys - and, I suspect, Nesta and Cassian - are? Are they all meant to be "weapons" against a long, deeply sleeping foe?
Finally, let's revisit the first passage I mentioned at the top of this post, when Feyre first met Azriel:
But the second male, the more classically beautiful of the two … Even the light shied from the elegant planes of his face. With good reason. Beautiful, but near-unreadable. He’d be the one to look out for—the knife in the dark. Indeed, an obsidian-hilted hunting knife was sheathed at his thigh, its dark scabbard embossed with a line of silver runes I’d never seen before. Rhys said, “This is Azriel—my spymaster.” Not surprising. Some buried instinct had me checking that my mental shields were intact. Just in case. - ACOMAF, chapter 16
Hunt stilled. There was only one being whose name was not uttered in Midgard. The Prince of the Pit. Apollion. His blood chilled. This was a fucked-up, weird-ass dream, no doubt caused by Quinlan literally blowing his mind into smithereens— “It is no dream.” The seventh and most lethal of the demon princes of Hel was in his mind— “I am not in your mind, though your thoughts ripple toward me like your world’s radio waves. You and I are in a place between our worlds. A pocket-realm, as it were.” “What do you want?” Hunt’s voice held steady, but—fuck. He needed to get out of here, to find some way back to Bryce. If the Prince of the Pit could get into Hunt’s mind, then— “If I went into her mind, my brother would be very angry with me. Again.” Hunt could have sworn he heard a smile in the prince’s voice. “You certainly worry a great deal about a female who is far safer than you at the moment.” - HOSAB, chapter 21
“During my time with Theia, Helena was a quiet girl, but she always listened.” “You spoke too much,” Thanatos snapped. Aidas ignored him. “Helena learned black salt would allow her to commune with us while protecting her mind and her soul.” - HOFAS, chapter 59
Given the princes of Hel were fathered by the Void - Apollion, the Prince of the Pit, said he resides in true darkness and has the ability to enter minds - and mothered by Chaos (who is possibly Wyrd?⁴), that they are attracted by obsidian (the material from which Truth-Teller's hilt is made), who may or may not use wyrdmarks that might match the runes on Truth-Teller's hilt (post on this to come), who appear to be able to use a black salt-induced dream state to communicate across worlds with their minds... it seems a little more than coincidental to me that Feyre would think to protect her mind from Azriel.
⁴ A personal crack theory that I'd love to be true - I think the eight pointed star may be Urd/Wyrd's or Chaos' symbol: a Chaos star. @wingedblooms has discussed Wyrd and Chaos here and here.
I once noted Azriel's similarities to Koschei, who can send his whispers on the wind, twisting distant minds to do his bidding. If Koschei is a prince of Hel - the sixth prince, of the Abyss? - could he have contributed towards Azriel's creation, either directly, or through the making of a female ancestor? Azriel has the ability to speak the language of shadow, wind and stone, which could plausibly tie in with Koschei as a hell prince: void, wind and obsidian. Or if it was Thanatos - the eater of souls - does this affect Azriel's ability to sense others around him, as Rhys once suggested? We know he's capable of using his shadows to read people. Was Azriel's existence, intentional or not, a secret like Hunt's?
Or to be completely cracked, is Azriel actually the heir to a currently empty throne in Hel?
Elide asked Lorcan, “Do you—do you feel any different?” The lack of the gods who’d watched over them. Lorcan peered up at the trees overhead, as if reading the answer in their entangled branches. As if searching for Hellas there. “No,” he admitted. “What does it mean,” Gavriel mused, the first rays of sun beginning to gild his golden hair, “for them to be gone? Is there a hell-realm whose throne now sits vacant?” “It’s too early for that sort of philosophical bullshit,” Fenrys said... - KOA, chapter 101
Whatever is going on here, please consider me still all aboard the Azriel is related to the Princes of Hel train until told otherwise by SJM. Choo Choo!
The Valg
Moving on from the princes of Hel, many of the fandom - myself included - are desperate to know exactly how Aidas and his brothers may be related to the Valg, a race of demons we met in SJM's 'Throne of Glass' series. Are they the same as, or simply related to each other? Did Hel's princes - or possibly Void and Chaos - create the Valg as well, or did the Valg just evolve naturally on the planet that is Hel, eventually turning it cold and barren? I know some in the fandom have drawn parallels between Rhys and Maeve, and theorised that he may be partly Valg, which would be such a twist if true! I'd love it.
But more than all of that, I want to know what Azriel may have to do with the Valg. Because in addition to my suspicions that the King of Hybern may have been infected by a Valg/Valg-type being (and that Elain assassinating him with a sunlight charged Truth-Teller was akin to Yrene healing Erawan out of existence), I have been wondering about Azriel and his shadows for years. I know I've suggested that Koschei could be a prince of Hel, but I also think there's a chance he could be Valg. I outlined in this post, where I wondered if Koschei was once known as Fionn - yes, I can see there's a pattern forming here, thanks 😂 - if he had once loaned magic to the King of Hybern, who had "hateful black eyes" and a "galaxy" in his palm, in order for Hybern to be powerful enough to orchestrate a scenario that Koschei was unable to himself, given he's trapped at his lake; considering this possibility in the context of the Valg existing in Prythian, and that Koschei may be one of them, it could mean that Koschei himself, or a loyal Valg prince, was possessing Hybern's king; a pawn until he was no longer required.
As I mentioned earlier, there are significant parallels between Azriel and Koschei that should not be ignored, especially if Koschei ends up being his magical ancestor in some way. In addition to this, Azriel's history and habits are intriguing when laid out next to what we know of the Valg as a species. Although, given the similarities between the Princes of Hel and the Valg, much of the following could indicate some sort of link to either species (that's assuming they're actually different, of course).
The Valg's true form involves a smokey, shadowy aura, while Azriel is a shadowsinger, described as a "dark hive" from where his shadows originated.
Cassian tipped back his head and laughed, a full, rich sound that bounced off the ruddy stones of the House. Azriel’s brows flicked up with approval as the shadows seemed to wrap tighter around him. As if he were the dark hive from which they flew and returned. I tried not to shudder and faced Rhys, hoping for an explanation about his spymaster’s dark gifts. Rhys’s face was blank, but his eyes were wary. Assessing. I almost demanded what the hell he was looking at, until Mor breezed onto the balcony with, “If Cassian’s howling, I hope it means Feyre told him to shut his fat mouth.” - ACOMAF, chapter 16
While a Valg's possession of someone's body is often confirmed through their unnaturally black eyes, it's interesting that Erilea's witches - who are half Valg and half fae - are increasingly prized the more golden their eyes are. Though Azriel's eyes are naturally hazel, a colour which often contains flecks of gold, they have notably glowed golden before. @psychologynerd and I have both discussed the possibility that Azriel could be a witch; this could be another indication of his hypothetical Valg ancestry. Edit: I just found this brilliant post, by @sak2605 which included a passage where Valg described Manon's gold eyes as the eyes of their masters!
The Valg fear fire so much they attempted to wipe out Aelin's entire flame-wielding family.
And what Hybern would do to Elain, might already be doing— From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.” - ACOWAR, chapter 64
“Hello, princeling,” she said, her voice bedroom-soft and full of glorious death. “Hello, witchling,” he said. And the words were his own. For a moment he was so stunned that he blinked. He blinked. The demon inside of him recoiled, clawing at the walls of his mind. Eyes of the Valg kings, eyes of our masters, it shrieked. Do not touch that one! - QOS, chapter 58
Credit for the observation goes to @ladynightcourt3 but Azriel's brothers burnt his hands. Furthering the possibility we have discussed before, that his horrible half brothers were pouring oil onto some sort of Starborn flame that he may have unwittingly exhibited, could said Starborn magic have sparked in the first place because it was trying to purify itself from a dark, shadowy infestation taking root in the lightless dungeon? Imagine if the pain of the burns only fuelled the Valg attempting to hijack young Az! And, while Nesta thought Azriel was lying when he said his shadows don't like the flames so much because he's sat in front of the fireplace "plenty," we do know they tend to avoid the light of a different sort of flame: the sun.
I didn’t doubt his claim. And the other Illyrian … “Azriel—his hands. The scars, I mean,” I said. “Where did they come from?” Rhys was quiet a moment. Then he said too softly, “His father had two legitimate sons, both older than Azriel. Both cruel and spoiled. They learned it from their mother, the lord’s wife. For the eleven years that Azriel lived in his father’s keep, she saw to it he was kept in a cell with no window, no light. They let him out for an hour every day—let him see his mother for an hour once a week. He wasn’t permitted to train, or fly, or any of the things his Illyrian instincts roared at him to do. When he was eight, his brothers decided it’d be fun to see what happened when you mixed an Illyrian’s quick healing gifts with oil—and fire. The warriors heard Azriel’s screaming. But not quick enough to save his hands.” - ACOMAF, chapter 18
Azriel lingered near the door, quiet enough that when Feyre and Mor began talking about some of her paintings, Nesta went over to him. “Why don’t you sit?” She leaned against the doorway beside the shadowsinger. “My shadows don’t like the flames so much.” A pretty lie. She’d seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and knew the answer. - ACOSF, chapter 58
The Valg use rings and necklaces of wyrdstone, an obsidian material, to infect a host, and in addition to Truth-Teller's hilt being made from obsidian - I've wondered before whether it could be a wyrdkey, or even possessed - Azriel was once described as not having shadows at his ear, or darkness ringing his fingers when around Elain. Does this mean that his shadows - which we now know are concentrated magic - could be infected by a Valg-type being such that they can influence his mind, and maybe even control his body? Could he become a "mindless" soldier grunt?
But the second male, the more classically beautiful of the two … Even the light shied from the elegant planes of his face. With good reason. Beautiful, but near-unreadable. He’d be the one to look out for—the knife in the dark. Indeed, an obsidian-hilted hunting knife was sheathed at his thigh, its dark scabbard embossed with a line of silver runes I’d never seen before. Rhys said, “This is Azriel—my spymaster.” Not surprising. Some buried instinct had me checking that my mental shields were intact. Just in case. - ACOMAF, chapter 16
Cassian’s dark brows narrowed. I dragged a hand over my face before going to Elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. “Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.” “I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went. - ACOWAR, chapter 30
The Valg princes can feed on pain and nightmares; in the ACOTAR, shadows are frequently associated with - and can even darken with - pain. Azriel was once described as having shadows and terrors over his shoulder, and there are many examples of his shadows gaining strength when he is uncomfortable or hurting, and lightening when he is happy or content. Is this because his nightmares/negative emotions are less potent and so stop fuelling the Valg he is - hypothetically - carrying around?
I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife. - ACOWAR, chapter 69
“Can’t sleep?” Cassian took up a fighting stance. A shadow curled around Azriel’s neck, the only one brave enough to face the sunlight. “Something like that,” he said, and settled into his own stance across from Cassian. Cassian let it drop, knowing Az would have told him already if he’d wanted to share what had been hounding him enough to exercise at night, rather than in the morning with them. - ACOSF, chapter 23
Speaking of, what is going on with this newly brave shadow? If Azriel or his shadows are hosts in some way for Valg-type being/s, is something causing them to gain on him? Is it his notably intensified depression from ACOSF, or the fact that he was standing above the House of Wind, the heart of which might be connected in some way to Hel? Alternatively, is it a positively denoted response to his new proximity to the Archeron sisters and their (hypothetical) different forms of Starborn light?
Could Azriel's shadows/magic simply be possessed, or are they actually a swarm of Valg in their own right, either wholly or in part, and attempting to use Azriel and Truth-Teller as a thin place to cross into Prythian? This behaviour fits with what we know of them as a species, though of course we don't know if they have the ability to do this specifically. But if Azriel does harbour some sort of Valg infestation, it becomes very interesting that his shadows respond by brightening around Feyre, who is a powerful healer, Mor - whose power is Truth (Damaris, the sword of Truth, was used in Erawan's death), and Elain⁵ (of whom many have wondered if she contains pure life or rebirth from the Cauldron, which could potentially allow her to heal - especially given the frequent use of "dawn" to describe her, another parallel with Yrene, the Torre Cesme, and even the Dawn Court in Prythian).
⁵ I'm including this information in the discussion not because of any shipping preference, but due to its relevance if Azriel really is infected by a Valg-type being.
Could this phenomenon extend beyond the fact that they, like the rest of his found family, all make Azriel feel comfortable within himself, and mirror what we learnt about Yrene⁶ and her powers? Otherwise, it would be incredibly coincidental that Elain is the sister who loves to nurture the cycle of life by gardening, who is so often described with imagery pertaining to warmth and the sun (especially at dawn), who has wielded Truth-Teller in such a way that may indicate she activated its powers and weakened a possible Valg prince, who has been strongly linked to hope, who has a different sort of strength, who has even brought a king to his knees...
⁶ @wingedblooms has previously discussed Elain's parallels with Yrene here and here; as always I suggest reading her brilliant posts!
Erawan panted as he approached. “Healer,” he breathed, his unholy power emanating from him like a black aura. She backed away a step, closer to the balcony rail. The dark king followed her, a predator closing in on long-awaited prey. “Do you know how long I have looked for you?” The wind tossed his golden hair. “Do you even know what you can do?” She hesitated, slamming into the balcony rail behind her, the drop so hideously endless. “How do you think we took the keys in the first place?” A hateful, horrible smile. “In my world, your kind exists, too. Not healers to us, but executioners. Death-maidens. Capable of healing—but also unhealing. Unbinding the very fabric of life. Of worlds.” Erawan smirked. “So we took your kind. Used them to unbind the Wyrdgate. To rip the three pieces of it from its very essence. Maeve never learned it—and never shall.” His jagged breathing deepened as he savored each word, each step closer. “It took all of them to hew the keys from the gate—every one of the healers amongst my kind. But you, with your gifts—it would only take you to do it again. And with the keys now returned to the gate …” Another smile. “Maeve thinks I left to kill you, destroy you. Your little fire-queen thought so, too. She could not conceive that I wanted to find you. Before Maeve. Before any harm could come to you. And now that I have … What fun you and I shall have, Yrene Towers.” - KOA, chapter 113
Erawan’s power swelled, but Yrene was already glowing, bright as the far-off dawn. - KOA, chapter 113
Erawan didn’t seem to know where to look. Not as Dorian sent out a punch of his healing light that knocked him off balance. Not as Lysandra leaped upon the dark king, pinning him to the stones. Not as Elide, Damaris in her hands, plunged the blade deep through Erawan’s gut, and between the stones below. Erawan screamed. But the sound was nothing compared to what came out of him as Yrene reached him, hands like burning stars, and slammed them upon his chest. The world slowed and warped. Yet Yrene was not afraid. - KOA, chapter 113
He arched, shrieking, but Damaris held him down, that ancient blade unwavering. His dark power rose, a wave to devour the world. Yrene did not let it touch her. Touch any of them. Hope. It was hope that Chaol had said she carried with her. Hope that now grew in her womb. For a better future. For a free world. - KOA, chapter 113
The gods might have been gone, Silba with them, but Yrene could have sworn she felt those warm, gentle hands guiding her. Pushing upon Erawan’s chest as he thrashed, the force of a thousand dark suns trying to rip her apart. Her power tore through them all. Tore and shredded and ripped into him, into the writhing worm that lay inside. The parasite. The infection that fed on life, on strength, on joy. Distantly, far away, Yrene knew she was incandescent with light, brighter than a noontime sun. Knew that the dark king beneath her was nothing more than a writhing pit of snakes, biting at her, trying to poison her light. - KOA, chapter 113
A thought and Yrene’s power flared brighter. Erawan screamed. The power of creation and destruction. That’s what lay within her. Life-Giver. World-Maker. Bit by bit, she burned him up. Starting at his limbs, working inward. And when her magic began to slow, Yrene held out a hand. She didn’t feel the sting of her palm cutting open. Barely felt the pressure of the callused hand that linked with hers. But when Dorian Havilliard’s raw magic barreled into her, Yrene gasped. Gasped and turned into starlight, into warmth and strength and joy. - KOA, chapter 113
Yrene’s power was life itself. Pure, undiluted life. It nearly brought Dorian to his knees as it met with his own. As he handed over his power to her, willingly and gladly, Erawan prostrate before them. Impaled. The demon king screamed. - KOA, chapter 113
I could be wrong of course! But it just seems too coincidental to me that we have all of these parallels between one of the Archeron sisters⁷ and the unassuming healer who - together with her friends - executed a Valg king in Erilea when I have suspected for a while that Azriel's shadows had been hijacked or corrupted in some manner.
⁷ I once posted, ages ago, that Azriel's shadows do not recoil from Elain Archeron, and even though I just outlined why I think she might be able to heal/purify them (assuming they're corrupted, of course), I stand by the theory. It is the corruption that would be vanishing/weakening around her and not the concentrated magic itself. And it would be an interesting tie in to the "purity language" (not my term) that SJM has used between them. That's the only shippy note I'll make here, and only because it would otherwise appear like I was contradicting my earlier self.
Anyway! If you've read this far then well done you, I'm sorry I didn't break this up into more manageable sized posts. I hope it all made sense, I did leave a bit out to try to salvage some of its atrocious length, so if I realise I forgot to tie something back around I may come back and fix it. But to sum up once more, I do think - and others have also noted - that there are many parallels between Azriel and the Starborn/Dusk Court Fae, the princes of Hel and the Valg, though one could argue that the latter two parallels extend to any void-based or demonic beings in general (which tracks if I'm correct that Illyrians can trace at least some of their origins to Hel).
Thank you for reading! 💜
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1toreyouapart · 1 day ago
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The Lies We Tell
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* **FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T LIKE FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE***
Summary that tells you nothing: Sometimes everything you ever wanted has been right there, within reach, all along.
CW/TW: Angst, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, fingering, PinV, pet names, friends with benefits, more to come as I actually get things written out.
Masterlist
The Shower Scene
Noah leaned over the sink, watching intently in the mirror as the razor glided across his skin. The pitter-patter of the shower the only sound in the bathroom, broken every so often as water splashed. He had lost track of how many times they'd done exactly this. One of them in the shower while the other did whatever they needed to. And every single time he had to fight tooth and nail not to sneak a peek. Friends weren't exactly supposed to want to see the other one naked. But damn it, he couldn't help it.
With a groan he leaned down, rinsing the remaining shaving cream from his face. Friends also didn't sleep in the same bed more than half the time. Or cuddle the way him and Quinn did. They sure as shit didn't get jealous every time one of them went out on a date. She had such shitty taste in men, too. All of them absolute tools that left her disappointed at the end of every date. Yet she still went back. It made zero sense.
Her phone on the counter lit up. A quick glance and he wanted to vomit. Here she was, getting ready for another date with another boring asshole that if he even made it past the first date would disappoint her, again, by the end of the second or third. What the fuck was she doing wasting her time with these idiots?
"Noah? Can you pass me my towel?"
Noah paused for a moment, wondering just what would happen if he said no. If he made her get out and get her towel herself. It was tempting. Maybe a little too tempting. Resigning himself he grabbed her towel off the rack, passing it through the shower curtain to her.
"Got any plans tonight?" He knew the answer, but fuck it, why not torture himself and hear her say it?
"Yeah." She stepped out of the shower, wrapped up in her towel. "Got a date."
Biting back the words that so desperately wanted to escape he moved aside and leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest. He watched her as she applied her leave-in conditioner. Watched as she wiped her hands on her towel before she picked up her phone. Ignored the pit in his stomach as she responded to whatever the douchebag had said.
"You deserve better."
"You don't even know him, Noah."
"Don't have to. You have fucking terrible taste in men." Noah's eyes widened. He hadn't meant to say that. "I'm sorry. Fuck. I shouldn't have said that."
Quinn laughed. Actually laughed. But it wasn't her usual laugh. He could hear the pain hiding behind it. What the fuck was wrong with him?
"Yes, you did. It's okay, though. You're not wrong. Just look at how we met." Her eyes met his in the mirror. "I would like to get dressed now, if you don't mind."
Noah stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. Of course he had meant it, but he hadn't meant to actually say it. She didn't need to tell him that his words had stung. He could hear it in her voice. See it in the way she looked at him through the mirror.
"I'm just tired of seeing you hurt when they all inevitably do the same stupid shit. I love you, terror pixie." He bent down, pressing his lips to the top of her head.
"I love you, too, Bigfoot."
She grinned, her eyes crinkling at the corners. At least she was smiling again. With a weary sigh he reached up, ruffling her hair before darting out of the bathroom. Part of him, real deep down, knew that if he had just asked her to cancel. To stay home with him, she would have, no questions asked. But that would be selfish. Who knows? Maybe this guy wasn't a total douchebag. And maybe he would turn out to be the love of her life. The thought made him physically ill.
Noah burst into Jolly's room, quickly closing the door behind him. Jolly merely looked up from the book he was reading, an eyebrow arched.
"Lemme guess. Another date tonight?"
"Yeah. And we all know how it's gonna go. Gonna need all of you to get lost for a while."
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squinch-depraved · 14 hours ago
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Bro PLZ write something about teds mustache PLZ🙏
here u go short while i work on other stuffs
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"i promise you you aren't too heavy, please sit on my face," ted begged.
"your mustache is gonna feel so weird though!!" excuses. to tell the truth, he just made you really nervous. you honestly didn't expect that mentioning that you had never been eaten out to your best friend would land you in this situation. "i dunno, ted..."
"c'mon, please trust me. i promise we can stop if you don't like it but i wanna try to make you feel good at least once. please?" he made that stupid face that gets him whatever he wants and leaned back on to his couch, resting his head flat on a pillow and patting his chest for you to hop on.
with a scoff, you rolled your eyes and started to climb onto him, but he stopped you and pointed to your pants.
"off," he instructed simply. his bossiness left a damp spot in your panties once you slowly, carefully removed them, folding both them and your pants and setting them on the coffee table. "there we go." you could hear the grin in his voice before you spun back around to glare at him.
"you're so annoying, you know that?"
"you love me."
he wasn't wrong. in what way, you weren't sure, but you did love your best friend.
"hop on!" he waved you over, intertwining his fingers with yours when you straddled his chest. "my face is up here," he joked when you hesitated.
"oh my god, fine, i'll sit on your face if it'll shut you up," you teased, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice. ted, who couldn't stop smiling, helped you scoot forward until you were hovering over his face. once he had a clear view of your wet hole, he groaned and wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you down and holding you tight while you squirmed.
his tongue worked deftly in and out of your cunt, flicking and swirling around your sensitive bud and drawing frantic wails from you. you had never felt anything so pleasurable; everything he was doing was sending white hot electricity straight to your core.
"teddy, fuck!!" you screamed, bucking your hips furiously on his face. his mustache provided just the right stimulation, brushing against your thighs when he pulled his mouth away from your pussy to plant sloppy kisses everywhere. "feels so good..." you trailed off.
he moaned into your folds as he slid his tongue back in you, the vibrations causing your legs to tremble.
"ted, please, you're so good, so good to me, fuck! why did you wanna- nghh, do this so bad?" your voice was shaky, and he pulled away with a lewd noise to answer your question.
"because i think you deserve to feel good. this doesn't have to be anything more than two friends helping each other, if you don't want it to be. just, shut up and let me taste you, please?" he bargained, brushing his mustache along your skin to soothe you.
"how am i helping you?" you asked, puzzled.
"you think i'm not gonna get off to this for like, the rest of my life?" he chuckled, pulling your cunt back to his mouth. staring down at him made your stomach flip- the way his hazel eyes peered up at you as he worked his mouth was intoxicating.
"teddy, i think i'm close," you whined, rolling your hips forward. his grip on your thighs tightened as he furrowed his brows and began eating you faster, sloppy noises filling the room. letting out a constant string of moans and swears as you tossed your head back, you let him devour you and arched your back.
he guided you through your orgasm, grunting when you began to claw at his arms where they were holding you down. he overstimulated you just a tad, unable to resist his cruel desires, not knowing if he would get to do this again. once you rode out your high, you scrambled backwards off of him, panting, and collapsed onto the couch.
"was that good?" he asked nervously, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. you couldn't form words yet, but nodded solemnly. smiling, he rose from his seat and walked to the kitchen, returning with a water bottle, which you accepted gratefully.
"can we do that again?" you asked quietly once he sat back down.
"uh. yeah, if you really want to," ted offered, scratching the back of his neck.
pulling him in for a deep kiss, you grinned at the faint taste of yourself still on his lips. his mustache tickled your upper lip as the kiss deepened, and soon he was on top of you, kissing between your thighs and enjoying every noise that spilled from your lips.
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asherthehimbo · 3 days ago
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Love talk - Song Mingi
prev | M. list | next chapter | [WITH MY BIAS?]
words: 2.3K
notes: warnings, mature language, Mingi going through it, HONGJOONG is going throigh it bro somebody save him
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“I'm still not seeing him, what if he's really not here, what if I lost my one chance to be with the love of my life because I was stupid and clumsy and spilled water over a fucking card when I should've put the number in my phone the moment I saw the card. Or what if he is here and he doesn't recognize me because my hair is different what if-” Mingi's panic is stopped by Yunho, “Calm down” it's simple and had it been anybody else those words would not serve to soothe him, but Yunho's been his rock for longer than he could remember and they offer at least a bit of comfort.
Sitting in a Vip box right in front of the stage, Mingi and the rest of his members try and look around for the person Mingi described, it's a break in the concert and the first half had been great, the lead guitarist Hongjoong loves was back and had even angled his guitar in their direction a couple of times, whatever that meant. He was dressed differently from the other members of his band, his whole body covered, almost in a cultish cloak which matches with the vibe of the first few songs, but Mingi couldn't bring himself to focus on that too much.
He was constantly looking back, trying to spot the mess of pink hair between the see of bright pinks and blacks behind him, it was fruitless, he knew the area was too big for him to see [Name] by himself, and his friends had agreed to help during the breaks but they had been invested in the concert whenever the music riff would start. Something about the lead singer's voice seemed almost familiar, calling out to him but he pushed it back, ignored it in favor of looking through the crowds, it may seem disrespectful but he'd apologize after the show, they would understand right?
“I can't just calm down Yunho, I know you guys think it's silly and that I only knew him for a week but it was- It was just so real. It was like he knew me, like I knew him. He held me like I was the one thing he'd been searching for and it couldn't have been just my own mind Yunho, and I hate it. I hate it because the thought of not seeing him again didn't even cross my mind. I've started to forget his voice, do you know how much that breaks me?“ Mingi is almost crying, not caring that if anyone were to look into the box they'd see him.
“Listen, I know we all thought it was silly at first, but we know how much this means to you, I know how much this means to you. We'll find him alright? even if it's not right now, we'll find him, you don't have to worry. Just, just try and enjoy the rest of the concert, try and relax, if you're relaxed your memory might become more clear. Just for a few songs, if you still aren't feeling better you and I can walk out and get some fresh air okay? you said you met him outside last time, we'll look for him then” Yunho hand on Mingi's shoulder grounds him as he tries to blink away the tears, grateful for the dimming of studio lights as the concert will supposedly begin again.
He can hear the band walk back up the stage, the voice of the lead singer humming and a few giggles of the others ringing through the stadium. He can't see them, the lights are far too dark for that. “We've teased you a lot recently haven't we my petals?” The voice of the lead singer speaks for the first time that night, Mingi tilts his head in confusion at the feeling stirring in his chest, but it's blocked out by the screams of ‘yes’ from the crowd, the loudest being Hongjoong beside him.
“hmm, I'm pretty sure they've figured it out, our petals are smart” a female voice speaks from the stage, “yeah!” two other voices agree. “Very true, Soyeon” the crowd goes wild as a name is said, making Mingi remember that until now, it seems, everyone in this band has stayed anonymous. “Well, petals, I'm afraid I can no longer call only you mine.. you see, you've supported us through a lot, helped us in our search for our pink flower” he speaks again, Mingi faintly recalls Hongjoong giving everyone a run down on the bands lore, how the pink carnation is supposed to symbolize the happiest part of their life, their heaven.
“Even gave some of us ours” another voice says, “shut up Beomgyu” a female voice , different from the one identified as Soyeon speaks, the crowd loses it again as another member's name is revealed. “You're just jealous Petals love me more, Ryunjin” Beomgyu spits back, and this time Mingi is prepared for the eruption of screams that don't seem to end. “You two fight like an old married couple” the drummers, Mingi thinks, voice speaks. “SHUT UP CHANGBIN” the two shout in unison. The crowd is lively, all screaming newly learned names of the ones they love, next to Mingi Hongjoong is losing his mind as he buzzes in his seat waiting for his bias, the last name to be revealed.
“If I could continue my earlier sentence” the unnamed male speaks as the two youngest let out tiny huff’s of sorry’s, the crowd going dead silent as his unsaid way of asking for silence reaches them. “Tonight, as you could tell, we are sharing ourselves with you fully, and to do that, I wrote a song, it's quite different from what we usually give you, and for that I'm sorry. But as our story has gone on, and we've seen glimpses of all the incarnations pink flower” he takes a deep breath, “I believe I've found mine.. he's in the crowd tonight, so I hope he knows this songs for him” the last words are a bit shaky, and Mingi silently applauds the man for being brave enough to share this part of himself with his fans.
“Alright guys, don't go easy on him, you gotta tell him if you don't like his simpy song right?” Soyeon asks and the crowd gives a corus of agreement. “Here it is, Love talk, written by [Name] [Last name]” she screams, the crowd screaming with her as the lights turn on and the music starts. The air is sucked out of Mingi's chest, the name hitting him hard, the face he's met with afop the stage, staring down at him the moment the lights turned on, now dressed in much more revealing clothing, body littered with the tattoos Mingi recalls in his dreams? they hit him even harder.
It's not him who starts the song, but he's mouthing something to Mingi before he starts his own part, Mingi can't tell what it is he's saying. He can feel the eyes of his members on him, boring into him as they recognize the name and description, all probably equally as shocked as he is, but he can't tear his eyes away from the man atop the stage. The words he had said previously floating around in his head, the song was written for him, for Mingi.
Falling for a stranger (Yeah), good gracious (Yeah)
I might even fly out to Vegas (Catch a flight)
I'm thinking maybe you'd be down to do it (Yeah)
But you don't know what I'm saying (Saying)
[Name] moves his left hand that's not holding the mic, pointing his wrist in the direction of the crowd as the camera zooms in on what he's showing, a little pink flower, tattooed in the middle of his wrist, it's vine creeping up the palm of his hand and wrapping around his middle finger. He smiles at Mingi hopefully, and Mingi only smiles in turn.
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“with MY bias, you fucking slept with MY bias I can't have ONE thing in this group YEARS I spent thirsting for this man and you got to him first!” Hong Jong wails, as he's being comforted by Seonghwa, the members being in a room backstage, they were brought here by the security guards after the concert had ended, being told “The incarnations want to see you.” and no further explanation.
Mingi's stomach is rumbling with nerves, now that he's not looking at [Name], that [Name] isn't looking at him he wonders if the other is mad, he paces back and forth in the room, blocking out Hongjoongs wails and Jongho and Yeosangs giggles. He knows the thought is irrational, the man had just done an identity reveal just so Mingi would recognize him, but there's still a nagging voice at the back of his brain.
“Still can't believe you slept with him, - like I can't believe he's [Name], like damn dude I get why you loved his fingers now.“ Yunho speaks from where he sits and eats some candy, his face between impressed and uninterested. Mingi wants to smother him. “Never really given my fingers much thought, I'm glad flower liked them” a deep voice speaks from the doorway, the now open doorway, the doorway that [Name] and the rest of his band are standing in.
The voices in the back of Mingi's head disappear and his body acts on instinct as he moves to [Name], the taller meeting him midway and their lips entwining in a passionate kiss. Mingi's hands steady themselves on [Name’s] shoulders, fearing his legs might give out beneath him if he doesn't, the guitarist has one hand, his left hand, on Mingi's cheek, the other gripping his hip like a lifeline.
When they break away, eyes locking and laughter bubbling from their throats, Mingi hears a whine behind them. “Goddamnt, now I owe Ryujin 20 bucks. You couldn't have waited 5 minutes?” Beomgyu grumbles as he plops himself on the first open chair he sees. “I'll give you forty if you stop placing bets on me” [Name] says as he spins Mingi around so they're both facing the rest of the people in the room. Mingi's back pressed against his chest so tight he can feel the other's beating heart, his waist encircled by [Name’s] arms as he rested his chin on Mingi's shoulder.
“Deal!” Beomgyu chirps from where he sits, “I swear you're all idiots, introduce yourselves” Soyeon gives her bandmates a pointed look and they all make ‘O’ faces in realization that they have yet to do that. “There's no need, Hongjoong-Hyung raves about-” San’s words are stopped shen Hongjoongs hand loudly slaps his mouth shut, looking at the band in a panic. “what he means to say is we heard on the stage, right?“ Hongjoong directs the last word threateningly at San, who nods his head fearfully with watery eyes. Hongjoong releases his hand from San’s mouth, the younger immediately backing away from Hongjoong and pouting as he looks at Wooyoung who is clearly much more interested in what's going on than San’s pain.
“ah, same here, [Name] won't shut up about you guys he's been a fan since like debut” Ryujins words are met with a loud cackle from Beomgyu about the fact that his friend just got outed, and a grumble from [Name who simply hides his face in Mingi's shoulder as the idol gives him a curious look.
“So I guess we're like… members in law” Changbin tries to joke, earning a loud laugh from Wooyoung, the sound immediately making him brighten up. “I'm gonna take Flower so me and him can talk someplace private” [Name] speaks before directing his attention to Ateez, “really it is nice meeting you all and it would be an honor to talk more, but flower is more important to me” he tells them as he drags Mingi out of the room, pausing for a moment to look back at Hongjoong, “for what it's worth Captain, you were my bias wrecker” he says with a cheeky grin before closing the door, Hongjoong sitting still for a moment before letting out a strangled cry that's muffled by the door.
“flower?“ is the first thing Mingi asks when he and [Name] enter a room alone. [Name] only nods, “mhm, do you not like it?” he looks at Mingi with a hint of nervousness Mingi hasn't seen on him before, it was kind of endearing. “NO! no no I mean Uhm I like it but it's just… I don't know, didn't think you would have remembered me, especially named me after something so important” Mingi mumbles.
“I know it may seem like a shocker but I do actually like you, I mean I didn't exactly learn korean for nothing” [Name] huffs out a puff of laughter, but his words hit Mingi, he learnt a language for Mingi. “I- I never called you” is all Mingi could reply with, [Name] only nods in response, “yeah.. “ he bites the inside of his cheek.
“It's not that I didn't want to- god I wanted to, it's just- I lost your number- well not lost more so as spill water-” Mingi starts to panic but is cut off by the feeling of [Name’s] lips connecting to his own once again. He's silenced, feeling the tallers hand rest on his neck to hold him in place. The kiss is broken as their foreheads are rested against one another. “My Flower, I could honestly care less” [Name] breathes out, “Whatever happened, you still decided to show up, and you have yet to reject me, so I could honestly care less on why you didn't contact me” He removes his head from Mingi's as he looks down at him. “I don't want to think about the year I spent without you when you're in my arms now” he says, and Mingi responds by kissing him again, a smile on his own lips.
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notes: chat this is not proofread and im sick so please lmk if you find any mistakes
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