#hazel has fallen in love i think

[kindred-spirit-93]

✨ F L O O F ✨

KITTYY

[silverskyeline]

'my man' 18+ old man logan x gn!reader

summary: he's irresistible in that work suit of his, so much so that you decide to treat him with it on. (1.3k) tags: blowjob, gender neutral reader, reader is a bit dom, pathetic old man logan, established relationship, for the 'suit' prompt for logan promptober.

'logan isn't one to beg, at least not in words. but in that look? in the way his hazel stare flickers from his cock back up to your lips? he may as well be on his knees pleading for you.'

your fingers splay across his chest, embracing the white fabric of his shirt above his skin. you can feel him beneath it, his muscles firm, only slightly giving way to your practiced touch. his suit jacket has fallen open, revealing himself to you, and that naturally cinched waist you love so much.

his tie sits there, untouched, begging for attention, begging to be pulled.

logan sees that look in your eye, he's not completely oblivious to the way that kinky mind of yours works. sometimes he wonders if you prefer him clothed, just so you can peel it off piece by piece later.

"you're so handsome. . ." you coo, slowly wrapping your hand around his tie, causing it to tighten, "miss you while you're at work."

he rests his head back, letting a sigh slip from his lips in response as his tired eyes lock on you. his hands rest on your hips, enjoying the weight of you above him on the sofa, nestled against him - right where you belong. logan doesn't speak, but the small squeeze he gives to your hips tells you that he missed you too.

"can i. . ." you begin, unable to hide the smirk that starts to curl on your lips, "take care of you?" your fingers trail up and down the buttons of his shirt teasingly, almost innocently.

oh. he knows what that means.

his eyes close for a moment and he inhales deeply, opening his eyes on the exhale. the silence speaks volumes. logan nods, the slow rise and fall of his chest picking up a little, breathing deeply through his nose as he anticipates your touch, anticipates the feel of your pretty little lips wrapped around his begging cock.

you often greet him like this after a long shift, knowing that he has to be on his absolute best behaviour with certain clients in that limo of his. he was so well-behaved, such a good man, how could you not treat him as he deserves when he returns to you?

"thank you. . ." you whisper, leaning down to press soft kisses along his jaw, his salt and pepper beard tickling your skin. smiling against him, you watch as a grin of his own appears - you suppress a giggle at the rare sight.

he lets out a low grumble at the back of his throat as you loosen his tie and begin to unbutton his shirt, taking time on each button. with every new patch of skin exposed to you, you immediately litter it with gentle kisses. kissing over his scars, over his flesh that craves your attention in any capacity you're willing to give.

"been gone all day," you whisper against his skin, pulling his shirt open completely as you nuzzle against his fuzzy tummy, "bet you were thinking about this, huh baby?"

one of his hands on your hips trails up your back to cup the back of your head, his thick digits trailing through your hair. he couldn't lie, his eyes would flick to the clock in the limo as it ticked closer and closer to the end of his shift, knowing you'd welcome him home in the best way.

"shhh," you punctuate your shush with a kiss to his lower tummy as he opens his mouth to reply, moving to unbutton his suit pants, "you don't need to answer me, i can tell. you were already hard when you walked through the front door."

his lips part, a sigh, eyes fluttering closed. how did a dirty old man like him, who'd seen and committed such violence, end up with an angel like you? he thanks his lucky stars every day, his tired old bones begging to be back in your arms the moment he leaves every morning.

you nuzzle your face against the outline of him in his boxers, feeling him tense and his breathing hitch. "that's where you want me, hm?" you smile, peeling back his underwear just enough for him to spring free.

you sit up a little to enjoy the fruits of your labour, and fuck. . . the sight of him laying there, sprawled out, suit shirt open, chest heaving, cheeks lightly flushed with his hardened length just asking to be touched - he's like heaven, a mess, spread out and ready for you.

his expression, the way his lips are lightly parted, brows furrowed in a slightly flustered manner all while those tired eyes stay trained on you. . . you just want to eat him up, breakfast, lunch and dinner all between those thick thighs of his.

logan isn't one to beg, at least not in words. but in that look? in the way his hazel stare flickers from his cock back up to your lips? he may as well be on his knees pleading for you.

and who are you to deny him?

taking his length in your hand, you lean down and lick a stripe along him. he hisses, gripping the back of your hair as his other hand grips the sofa. he's sensitive in his old age, any little flick of your tongue or tug of your hand enough to send sparks throughout his entire body.

you hum against him, licking a few more times before circling his leaking tip with your tongue. he swears he sees stars, but before he can react you're taking him inside your mouth with practiced ease. he gasps at the hot, wet feeling of your lips around him, plunging deep inside as you take him all slowly. words are caught in his throat, whispers of praise dying on his tongue as the feel of him inside your mouth erases all thoughts.

he can't help it, he grabs your hair tightly, his thick fingers taking hold as he pushes you down further. logan knows you can take it, knows you're a good little thing for him, the way your mouth starts watering the minute he opens that door. like you spend your entire day hungry for him, only satisfied when his cock is pushed deep inside your mouth.

his head tilts back, moaning softly into the cool air of the living-room. he's not even fully undressed, shifting in his work suit, feeling your tongue swirl across each vein on his length.

"always take me so- f. . . fuckin'. . . ah, fuck- so fuckin' good, don't you?" logan stutters, desperately trying to regain some sort of dominance over the situation. but you and him both know who's in charge for the time being.

your eyes lock on his as you bob on him, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth. he wasn't going to last long like this, a dirty old man, half undressed with his fingers in your hair, coaxing you further.

"gonna cum," he whines, hand balling into a fist on the pillows of the sofa as he feels himself buck up into you. it's a warning, but a useless one, you'll drink him up gladly any time. doubling your efforts, you blow him a little faster, eyes watering at how deep you're taking him. he's practically fucking your throat. any other person might struggle, but you're used to his length, used to taking it like a champ, all for your man.

soon he's spurting white hot cum down your throat, eyes locked on yours as he groans roughly, thrusting into your wet, inviting mouth as he empties himself. you moan in response, swallowing back as much as you can while powering through, moving backwards and forth on his thick, impressive length.

the aftershocks jolt through him, dick twitching, body shaking, thighs clenching as you continue. he's sensitive, so very sensitive, pulling you back by your hair until you slide off him with a wet pop.

his other hand comes down, wiping drool from around your mouth with his thumb, cleaning you up. you pant, looking up at him from between his thighs and he returns your gaze with the most loving look he can muster in his exhausted state.

smiling, you nuzzle against his hand, "how 'bout we get you properly undressed, and i run you a hot bath?"

logan smiles, the skin around his eyes crinkling with affection, "only if you're joinin' me," he grumbles cheekily.

"that was a given, baby." you smirk as you stand, taking his hand in yours to lead him towards the bathroom.

[bookwormjust]

Nosebleed (established relationship with Azriel, warm summer)

It’s an unusually hot summer evening, the kind of heat that clings to your skin, heavy and suffocating. You had been trying to keep cool, staying in the shade or near a window, but the warmth had become unbearable. As the day wore on, you felt the telltale tickle in your nose—a nosebleed. It wasn’t the first time this summer that the heat had triggered one, so you didn’t think much of it.

But you hadn’t noticed the small droplets of blood that had fallen onto your blue dress.

Azriel had been away for a moment, tending to something with Rhysand, but when he returns, his sharp eyes immediately catch the sight of the crimson spots staining the fabric of your dress. His expression changes in an instant—from his usual calm, collected demeanor to something close to panic.

"Love?" His voice is tight, and before you can react, he’s across the room in a flash, his shadows swirling around him like dark, protective wings. His hands reach for you, gentle but urgent as they guide you to sit down. His hazel eyes, usually so steady, are wide with concern as they scan your face and body, searching for an injury. "What happened? Where are you hurt?"

You blink, confused by his sudden intensity, until you realize what he must be thinking. The sight of the blood on your dress has set off his instincts, the ever-watchful protector in him jumping to conclusions. You can feel the bond humming with his rising panic, the fierce need to shield you from harm.

“Azriel,” you begin, your voice soft and calming, but he’s already kneeling in front of you, his hands gentle but insistent as they move to check for injuries. “Azriel, wait—”

“Tell me where it hurts,” he demands, his voice still tight with worry, his shadows wrapping around you as though to shield you from some invisible threat. “I’ll take care of it, just—tell me.”

You gently place your hand over his, stilling his frantic movements. “Azriel,” you say again, more firmly this time, your thumb brushing over his knuckles to calm him. His eyes meet yours, and you can see the fear behind them—fear for you, for your safety.

“It’s just a nosebleed,” you say, offering him a reassuring smile. “From the heat. I’m not hurt.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, processing your words. His brow furrows, and his gaze flicks back down to the bloodstains on your dress, as though he’s still trying to reconcile the image of blood with your lack of injury.

“A nosebleed?” he repeats, his voice quieter now, as if he can’t quite believe it.

You nod, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Yes. I’m fine, Azriel. Really.”

The tension in his shoulders slowly begins to ease, and he lets out a long breath, his head bowing slightly as the wave of panic subsides. His shadows, too, seem to settle, curling back into their usual quiet, protective state. He brings one hand to your cheek, his thumb tracing your skin as he looks at you, still checking for any sign of distress.

“I overreacted,” he murmurs, his voice full of self-reproach.

You shake your head, leaning into his touch. “No, you were just worried. But I promise, I’m okay.”

Azriel’s eyes soften, though you can still see the remnants of his fear. He leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if to reassure himself that you’re truly unharmed. “I don’t like seeing you hurt,” he whispers against your skin, his voice rough with emotion. “Even something small like this…”

“I know,” you say gently, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. “But it’s nothing to worry about. Just a bit of heat.”

He holds you there for a moment longer, his breath steadying as he rests his head against yours. The bond hums with the warmth of your connection, and you send him a wave of calm, soothing his lingering anxiety.

Finally, Azriel pulls back, his hand brushing lightly over the bloodstain on your dress. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says softly, his voice returning to its usual calm, though his eyes are still filled with the quiet protectiveness that never leaves him.

You smile, nodding as he helps you to your feet, his arm sliding around your waist as though he needs to keep you close, just to be sure. “And maybe some ice water,” you suggest with a playful grin. “This heat is really something.”

Azriel chuckles softly, though there’s still a note of seriousness in his tone. “Anything you need, love.”

As you head toward the bathroom, his shadows trailing quietly behind you both, you can feel the weight of his love and protectiveness settling around you once more—a constant, unwavering presence, even in the smallest moments.

[kamaluhkhan]

anti-curse

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of apollo!reader

summary: whether he knew it or not, percy jackson made the world a better, brighter place — and you intend to protect him, no matter what path the fates leads you down. fuck prophetic dreams. the future wasn't written in stone.

warnings/disclaimers: mentions of typical demigod things (battles, weapons, etc.); this is set during the heroes of olympus series so roughly follows that plot + features the seven demigods; mainly inspired by book!percy (dark hair, sea green eyes) bc that's the one i fell in love w growing up; characters are aged up from the book (reader + percy are meant to be 21-22 y/o) bc i imagine there was more time between prophecies/series....anyways, please enjoy <3

when you first met percy jackson, he almost shot you through the chest with an arrow.

given that apollo is your godly parent, you often found yourself at the archery field, which happened to be one of the first stops on percy’s tour of camp half-blood. after that first mishap, your other half-siblings were, understandably, too scared to let percy try again — frankly chiron seemed a bit hesitant as well — and you could sense that percy felt disheartened. so, you flashed the boy a reassuring smile before giving him a few pointers and a second chance. when he smiled back at you, you felt a fluttering in your stomach that told you percy jackson would be more than a little important in your life.

archery still wasn't percy's strong suit, but your gut feeling turned out to be true. you and percy had dealt with a lot since then — a handful of quests, several prophecies, more than a few near-death experiences, a titan war, and, maybe worst of all, high school. you couldn't imagine getting through any of it without him by your side, and you knew the feeling was mutual.

so, you were entirely anticipating that percy would be hurt by your announcement during dinner. 

“no way that’s happening.” percy laughs, as if he can’t believe you’d suggest something as ridiculous as not having him accompany you on your quest. he remains unfazed, takes a sip of his electric blue coke before gesturing to the empty seat next to him. “come on, sunshine. have something to eat.”

the nickname sends your heart into a frenzy as you sit next to him. you and percy had never been anything other than friends, but sometimes....sometimes you look at his dangerous ocean eyes and wind-swept dark hair and it makes you blush. sometimes you consider the way his laughter fills you with warmth and his smile holds a thousand memories, the way he teases and winks at you and you decide that he makes your world so much brighter. sometimes you remember how sarcastic and thoughtful and loyal and reckless he is, his heart of gold and unpredictability of the sea. and you start to think that maybe possibly you'd fallen in love with your best friend.

that was not the issue at hand, though. you summon your favourite food and drink, but don't particularly feel like having either. percy returns to his conversation with hazel about how the two of you would drive up to montauk after you finally got your license, any time either of you needed to escape your reality, even just for a night. you'd sit on the beach, stargazing and roasting stale marshmallows and wishing to stay there forever. hazel seems to think that sounds like a nice escape, and percy promises that once the eight of you fulfill this prophecy, you'll all go to the beach house together, which makes hazel break out into a grin.

you can't help but smile at percy who loves his friends, who has loved you for so long. that feeling is quickly replaced by a pang in your chest that reminds you what's at stake. from the corner of your eye, you notice annabeth across from you, who looks at you like you’re a puzzle she can’t quite solve. you're trying to hide it, but if anyone can read you better than percy, it's annabeth. she knows something is weighing on your mind. you briefly lock eyes with jason, who you had gone to earlier for help, from the other side of the room, where he sits between piper and frank. 

if you weren’t so distracted, you would have been able to enjoy dinner. the eight of you — all demigods of the current great prophecy — hadn’t been all together in a while, and it was nice to share a meal aboard the argo ii despite the reality of why you’d all been traveling together. leo had equipped the ship with magic plates and cups, and with the lively jokes and stories filling the air, you could almost imagine it was an ordinary summer evening at camp. you could almost forget that tomorrow, you had to go on a quest to rescue apollo and artemis from python, a monster so powerful your father barely defeated him thousands of years ago. you could almost ignore the impending war with gaea and the giants, and the doomed fate of the world if you were to fail. the one thing you could no longer ignore, however, is the gut feeling you have about the fate of the boy sitting next to you if your quest is to unfold the way you had first planned it. 

you clear your throat, an attempt to interrupt the group's conversations. 

“i was serious earlier,” you declare. “you’re not coming with me, percy. jason is.”

the smile percy had on his face fades. his eyes are filled with concern and disbelief, as he glances at you. “i – i don’t understand.”

"percy,” jason jumps in carefully, aware that he’s treading through dangerous waters like you had warned him. “y/n and i were strategizing earlier and it seems to make the most sense, given our powers combined." 

percy shakes his head. “but — but you can’t just make last minute changes. we’ve already got everything set. right, valdez?”

leo shrugs, swallowing a mouthful of chicken before responding. “i don’t know, man. i’m no expert in quests, but it seems like i’m not the one who should be deciding this.” leo looks at you, and you nod gratefully.

you've been on edge since last night, and to calm your nerves you fiddle with the gold chain around your neck. it was a gift from your father: a necklace with a music note charm that can transform into an electric guitar or a bow and quiver. thankfully, you hadn't had to need both at the same time.

“it's up to me. and i want leo and jason to come with me.”

“then i’ll come too,” percy's voice remains calm, but insistant.

“isn’t there that thing about quests usually being done in threes?”

“that is true, piper,” percy agrees. he tilts his head towards you, like he's calling on you to remember. "exceptions have been made, though. like that one time with zoe." that had been years ago, when demigods from camp half-blood and hunters of artemis joined forces. five had been sent out on a quest, but only three came back. you shiver at the thought.

"or my quest through the labyrinth," annabeth recalls.

"but won't that also change our other plans, though?" hazel asks.

"not necessarily," you pipe in, your voice more assertive. "if jason and percy just switch. no harm done."

"we're not interchangeable," percy grumbles.

"hera sure seemed to think so!" leo searches the room for positive responses to his joke, but the most he gets is a half-hearted laugh from frank. "too soon?"

you take a deep breath. "it's not a big deal, really."

"it kind of is," percy counters. "you've never gone on a quest without me."

"you've gone on quests without me," you point out.

"that's...that's different."

"why? because i'm so weak that i need the son of the sea god to protect me at all times?"

you're giving percy the coldest stare you ever have. he hesitates to hold your gaze.

"you know that's not what i meant," he sighs.

"then what did you mean?"

percy looks at you, his eyes and tone softer. “look, sunshine, let's just stick with the plan, alright? we can just —”

“gods, you never listen, do you?" you finally snap. "you're not coming! i don’t want you there, percy!”

percy stares at you, stunned. you look around the table, and everyone looks back at you, wide-eyed. they weren’t used to this side of you, your sudden outburst not fitting in with your usually sunny disposition. 

“well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” leo jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood, with less than ideal results.

“you saw something in your dreams, didn’t you?” annabeth realizes. 

her conclusion makes you freeze.

demigod dreams are always significant, carrying vivid images of monsters, messages from friends or enemies. some children of apollo like you had visions of the future — pseudo prophecies that are supposedly set to unfold given the path you’re on. technically, you weren’t supposed to share your visions, something about messing with fate or destiny, but that didn’t mean you had to accept the way things were. 

what you saw in your dreams last night, what might happen to percy, made your blood run cold.

you would defy all the laws of the universe and divine rules if it meant you could protect him. so fuck the path the fates are attempting to lead you down, and fuck prophetic dreams. you refuse to let percy die. no matter how frustrated you’re acting towards him in this moment, you know he would still do the same for you.

you figure that the future isn't written in stone, right?

either way, you're willing to challenge destiny for percy jackson.

without answering annabeth, you get up from the table and take a deep breath, carefully avoiding percy’s gaze. 

“i go with leo and jason, or i go alone.” your voice is steady, fighting the heavy beating of your heart and tears caught in your throat. “either way, i leave in the morning.” you exit the mess hall before anyone — before percy — can protest.

[kastalani123]

The Riordanverse is, ultimately, a children's series so it's expected that the nitty-gritty, darker details of certain things get omitted. Still, I think it'd be interesting to see the demigods, each raised for slaughter in their own way, be the soldiers, the victims, the prey that they grew up to be for both godly and mortal reasons.

Percy always keeps Riptide in arm's reach, always keeps his fingers curled around it, ready to unsheath it every waking moment. He sits and stands with his back flush against walls, eyes and ears always open to seek the slightest hint of danger. He trusts Paul, he trusts Chiron — he still watches every minute shift of their expression, of their body for warning signs. He keeps outside Dionysus's range, ensures he always has an open exit within reach. The smell of alcohol makes him dizzy, nauseous; his thoughts leave his body sometimes, when it gets bad enough.

Annabeth keeps a packed bag at the bottom of her closet when she stays at her family's home; she has places she can stay and her parents and Chiron have been good, but her feet still itch when they frown a time too many. Nobody knows she still sees spiders sometimes, feels her skin itch with their crawling. She makes Percy swear he'll never leave the room before she wakes up unless it's truly necessary. She puts boards on her bed's edges so she'll never fall while she thrashes from nightmares; falling would only make it worse.

Leo sits far from any open fires and leaves if people start roasting meat; Plan C is used sparingly once he isn't constantly fighting for his life. His tool belt can't make food, but it stores more granola bars than he could ever carry without it. He makes himself near-unnoticeable earplugs after New Year's and he avoids looking at himself; his body is too whole for being blown to pieces and half the time he's sure the chunks are rotting around Camp Half-Blood where they should've fallen. He tries to keep from unnecessary interactions; he can't have things tying him to some place, not when he's mapped out dozens of escape plans. He smiles longer and wider than ever before.

Hazel doesn't wear jewelry; the only exception is a wooden bead bracelet Nico gave her after she rejected a golden necklace. Walls close in around her, dust and liquid clog her throat, stones crush her bones– she comes back to the present. She clings to affection like a drowning man to a piece of wood, but keeps watch for signs that it'll turn against her. Silence haunts her every step; she keeps an MP3 player and headphones with her at all times to drive it away.

Frank gathers up his form and pours it into a mould of himself, does what he can to keep it from spilling through the cracks. His fingers are littered with scars and scratches, with a trail of broken mirrors left behind in their wake. There are always voices arguing in the back of his mind — not his father's, but not his own, either; just a phantom screech pulsing through his head. He drowns them by sinking into new responsibilities, new dangers, shaping himself to fit while trying to remain himself. The crackle of burning wood follows him everywhere he goes and he can do nothing to down it out — only stare at whatever he had managed to save from his suicide to remind himself he does not need to worry about it; he has already crumbled into ash.

Piper dives into Oklahoma, into mortality, like she'll suffocate without it. She remains far from everything, though not far enough to be out of the loop, because she needs to know about every prophecy, every end of the world, every step and challenge her friends face. She calls them on a bronze-infused phone, not a rainbow, even if the camera and the notifications and the everythingness of it blind her like a spotlight and the thrum of electricity runs through her veins like venom. She paints her face a bit misshapen here, a bit discolored there, a bit unsettling everywhere, and Shel understands. She understands and she loves her and she says it's beautiful not in aesthetics but in the potential protection it provides, as Piper intended.

Jason had learned every rule with the mere intention to break it, to tear through the chains of military life that had been clamped around his throat for as long as he could remember. He had chased life, rather than the survival he had clung to for so long — packed every second of his ticking down time with it. Finally with freedom, but so little time with it, he snatched every piece of it he could: a mortal highschool, a movie theatre, a mall shopping spree, a room of his own — all carefully documented in stacks of journals, ever breath of air and glimpse of the sun, with copies upon copies stashed away so that his memories could never again slip away like sand between his fingers, so that his friends had something of him left, after his life of nothingness.

[chalkscene]

tears of themis ⇢ YOU DECIDE TO SLEEP ON THE COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT

ft. luke pearce, artem wing, marius von hagen & vyn richter

you’re shifting restlessly on the couch when you catch your LUKE alarm keychain—handmade by luke himself—peeking from behind the armrest, “luke says he’s sorry.” you can’t help but smile at the sound of luke faking a small voice and whatever rage that filled you from your argument hours ago has now dissipated, endeared by the sweet gesture. “you’re gonna set off that alarm by accident,” you quip, the lightness in your tone encouraging luke to come into view. “you’re not mad anymore?” he asks, cautious yet hopeful. all his years of training and building a hard exterior to be a detective have nothing on you because in the warmth behind his hazel eyes that only you can bring out, you still find the boy you grew up with. the boy you’ve always loved. “i can’t stay mad at you,” you admit, on the brink of tears, “luke, i’m really sorry…” luke is quick to bring you in his arms, declining your apology because that’s what he does—he’ll blame everything before he’ll blame you. you’re unable to hold back a sob, prompting him to hold you tighter before he whispers in your ear, “let’s not do this again, okay?”

ARTEM is going over a recent case when he realizes it’s almost midnight. he’s usually one to pull an all-nighter but gnawing at the back of his mind is the argument he had with you today—you two haven’t spoken to each other since. after having decided to put off his work until tomorrow, he walks out of his home office to join you in bed but he finds you in the living room instead, your pillows and blanket already set up on the sofa. he can tell you’re aware of his presence from the way you’re deliberately not looking in his direction. still, he attempts to catch your attention with a soft call of your name. when you don’t reply, he carefully crosses the distance between the two of you. “we can’t fix this if you won’t talk to me,” he pleads. artem’s convinced his words have fallen on deaf ears until you finally speak, “i just don’t want to say the wrong thing again.” artem understands, thinking back to what started as a simple disagreement escalating into something it shouldn’t have and before you could stop it, you were both raising your voices at each other, saying things you didn’t mean. “i’m sorry about everything i said,” your voice sounds weak as it quivers and artem immediately wraps you in his embrace. “me too,” he tells you, “we can talk tomorrow. just come to bed.” when you nod into his chest, he presses a reassuring kiss at top of your head as he promises, “we’re alright.”

as MARIUS waits for you in bed, anxiety slowly eats away at him, the argument he had with you hours ago replaying in his mind. you should’ve walked in by now, he thinks, so he waits a few more minutes before getting on his feet and makes his way downstairs. he’s rehearsing his apology, muttering to himself to test the words on his tongue but it all flies out the window when he finds you asleep on the sofa. ridden with guilt, he decides to save his sorry’s for tomorrow when you’re both lucid for a proper conversation. marius is careful not to wake you up—gently slipping an arm beneath your head and looping the other under your knees to carry you to the bedroom. he’s tucking you in bed when you begin to stir awake. “sorry,” you hear him whisper, “didn’t mean to wake you up.” “what time is it?” you ask groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “it’s late. go back to sleep.” he places a tender kiss on your forehead to lull you to your slumber before he shifts you on your side, his chest against your back as he slides an arm across your torso. “sweet dreams,” he mutters and you feel his breath on the nape of your neck. “marius?” “hm?” “i’m sorry about earlier…” “that’s my line, miss,” he quips, albeit sincerely. he gives your body a gentle squeeze as he pulls you flush against him. “i’m sorry, too,” he replies, “i never want you to go to sleep upset.”

you’re getting settled on the couch when you hear VYN clear his throat as he carefully places a fresh cup of tea on the table in front of you. “chamomile tea,” he states, “it will help you sleep better.” there’s the slightest caution in his voice but it’s enough to tell you what the tea is for—peace offering after your heated disagreement earlier. “thank you,” you mumble, gradually feeling the guilt bubbling in your chest, “you’re using reverse psychology on me, aren’t you?” there’s no bite in your tone but vyn’s eyes still widen at the accusation. “n-no,” he stutters and a giggle involuntarily escapes you, to vyn’s surprise. “i’m joking.” when you notice his body language go lax, you slowly reach for his hand. “and i’m sorry for the things i said to you,” you tell him, “i didn’t mean it.” “i know.” a soft smile curls on his lips as he interlocks your fingers together, “so am i.” you stay quiet for a moment, basking in his touch that you missed terribly before he speaks again. “if you still wish to be alone tonight, i don’t mind staying here.” you fight the urge to roll your eyes, aware of the fact that this is just him assessing your boundaries—vyn does mind and you know that—so you shoot him a dubious look instead to which he responds with a sheepish smile. “i suppose you’ve changed your mind?” you actually give him an eye roll this time. “you know you had me at chamomile.”

[holybibly]

Bunnies, today we have a special unholy hour. It's our fox's birthday and I think there's nothing better than giving him a special present.

Your fingers run slowly down the length of Yeosang's back, gently stroking the smooth, bare skin up and down. He stirred slightly at your soft, intimate touch, a sleepy murmur escaping his pink, parted lips as he slowly began to regain consciousness.

"Happy birthday, Sangie." You whispered sweetly in his ear and scratched him lightly with your nails, leaving a slight reddish mark on his skin.

"Birthday?" His voice is deep and husky from sleep, and damn, it's so incredibly sexy. Rubbing his soft hazel eyes sleepily, Yeosang sits up in bed and leans back against the pillows.

You nod and turn your eyes to the clock on the bedside table. It's midnight. 

After Yeosang has fallen asleep next to you, his angelic face pressed against your stomach, you stay up for a while before giving up the idea altogether. After all, it would be useless; today was a special day, and you had certain plans for your lover.

It was almost disgusting how much you loved and adored your boyfriend; you felt like you had fallen into a honey pot. It was sticky and sweet—too much and never enough. Damn it, Yeosang was absolutely everything in your life, and it was pure luck that this fox had inexplicably fallen in love with you just as deeply and irrevocably. Sometimes the boys would get sick of seeing how cute and in love you two were, but, to be honest, you didn't care at all.

"Yes, baby, it's your birthday." You say this as you reach out to turn on the bedside lamp before turning back to him, your lips pressing against his cheek in an almost instinctive way. "I'm sorry, love, for waking you. I hope you don't mind; I know how busy you are these days."

Yeosang gave a weak shake of his head as he ran his hand through his hair and blinked a couple of times, trying to get used to the soft, yellowish light that was now filling the once-pitch black space of your bedroom. Every time you thought that Yeosang couldn't possibly be any more handsome, he would find a way to prove you wrong.  His eyelashes fluttered, framing his hazel-amber eyes with a soft lace, and you found yourself literally dissolving into the sweet gold of his gaze.

"Mmm, you know I can never be angry with you, baby."

"That's good. Can I give you my present now, my beautiful sleepy boy?" You ask, your voice soft and muffled as you move closer to him and run your hand down the side of his neck. God, he's just unbelievably beautiful.

He leans into your touch, and you almost laugh at how your usually dominant and possessive boyfriend becomes so obedient and gentle with just a few sweet kisses and touches. But that is just before he completely wakes up and starts playing with you the way he likes.

"What are you going to give me, baby?" Yeosang asks you with a slight smile on his lips. 

He leans in to kiss you, and you let him and you lose yourself in the warm, soft movement of his lips for a couple of minutes. As much as you love his rough and brash side, there are times when you wish that Yeosang would be a little more soft and gentle with you. His hand rests on your neck, squeezing weakly, and you take this as a sign to move away, or else what you've planned will fail.

"No, wait, just one more, darling..." You laugh and shake your head as you slide down the bed, pulling the silk cover down with you until you're nestled between his legs. You run your fingers down his stomach, which has a pronounced set of abs, and watch as the muscles clench under your touch.

His foxy amber eyes widen as he finally understands what you meant when you spoke of the gift, and the almost imperceptible tremble of his wet, pink lips tells you of his surprise.

You begin to knead his milky thighs, squeezing the flesh until it turns red, and watch as the initial surprise gives way to something darker and sexier: his eyes narrow, his breath deepens, and a knowing grin forms on his lips. Oh, damn it.

You swallow and try not to give in to the temptation, and just try not to let Yeosang take control of the situation and fuck you senseless. Now it's all about him.

"Sangie, are you going to let me take care of you, my birthday boy? I have no doubt that you will be in love with my special present." You hum to yourself as you start to leave light kisses on his stomach and dig your fingers deeper into his thighs—thighs that you just love to ride on.

"Hmm, if you say so, baby. I can't wait to get my present." His hand reaches up to the top of your head and runs through your hair, and you let out a weak moan of pleasure when he pulls you by the long strands. Hell, he always knew how to make you melt with just a little contact.

You tilt your head so that you can bite into the smooth skin on the inside of his thigh. The initial feel of your teeth sinking into the juicy flesh of his thigh is a bit harsh, but your tongue relieves the pain almost immediately as it runs over the swollen red markings.

This caused a low hiss to escape from his chest, the sound almost feline in nature, and Yeosang, in retaliation, tightened his grip on your hair.

"Hmm, what is it, baby? Is it hurting?" You mutter to yourself before you go back to licking and kissing the inside of his thighs, showering him with as much love as you possibly can.

Yeosang moaned softly, rolling his eyes in pleasure as he felt his cock twitch in his underwear. An impatient whimper escaped his pretty lips as he watched you greedily lick and bite his thighs, leaving hickeys and bruises on his pale skin, deliberately avoiding his heavy boner. 

"Fuck..." Yeosang curses as you finally squeeze his erection with the palm of your hand, a hint of relief appearing on his gorgeous face now that his cock is getting the attention it deserves.

You looked up at him as you stuck your tongue out and pressed it against his clothed cock, drooling on the fabric and leaving a wet spot on it.

"Don't tease me, baby." You can hear the note of warning in his hoarse voice. It amuses you, but at the same time, you know better than to play with fire. Yeosang can be sweet, but only when he wants to be.

You pull his boxers down before you slide your palm back around his warm, wet from pre-sperm cock and let him thrust his hips up, chasing the pleasure like he's a horny teenager getting his first handjob. 

You ran your hand over his cock a few times, feeling its heavy weight pulsate against your palm, before licking the swollen red head of his cock and collecting drops of pre-cum with the tip of your tongue. The bitter-sweet taste of his pre-cum makes you moan as you swallow the sticky liquid, which is mixed with your own saliva.

A shiver of pleasure ran through his body in response to what you were doing. You always knew how to handle his cock properly to make him squirm. Every time your warm mouth slides over his thick circumference and your tongue wraps around that wet head, he practically gasps for breath, and it's about the only thing that can make him whimper and sob. The rest of the time, Yeosang wants to listen to you make those pathetic, erotic sounds. 

You run your tongue along the base of his cock, leaving sloppy kisses all along its velvety length, worshipping his big, thick dick with your mouth. His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, and he rolls his gorgeous foxy eyes as you take the head in your warm, wet mouth and start to suck it sweetly. 

He tightens his grip on your hair, groaning deeply. The veins in his neck swelled and pulsed with the pleasure flowing through them, heavy and hot as molasses.

"Fuck, baby..." His hips jerk as you swallow his cock all the way to the base, pressing your nose against the smooth, hot skin of his pubic area. The sight of it alone was almost enough to make him cum right then and there.

"Fuck, love, don't stop. You take me so good, damn it. Please." Yeosang's praise sounds like melted honey to you, and he sobs softly as you swallow, the walls of your throat tightening around his cock in the most delightful way.

You look up at him with your eyes clouded with desire, the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, and it seems to excite him all the more. Yeosang pulls on your hair again, causing your mouth to slide up to the length of his cock. 

It's a silent command: Start to move now, baby.

You obediently obey and begin to bob your head up and down at a fairly steady pace. The sounds of your soft gagging mix with the wet, disgusting squelching of your saliva and Yeosang's pre-cum filling the room. But to him, it was like real music. You whimpered around his cock as he lifted his hips up and down, hitting the back of your throat a little harder than you thought it would. The fact that you didn't tell him to stop just made him want to do it over and over again, not wanting to miss out on the opportunity to fuck your throat as if you were his own personal fuck toy. Warm and tight sleeve for his dick. 

Sometimes he even has to think about what he would like to fuck more: your sweet, pink pussy or your hot, slippery throat.

"God, your mouth really is an amazing gift, baby." Yeosang moans, trying to match the rhythm of your movements, pushing his hips harder into your mouth. Your tongue pressed flat against his cock, the thick vein of it dragging along the wet, soft tongue every time the head of it hit the back of your throat. "I need you so much. I'm so in love with you, baby. You're mine. My damn perfect girl."

As you swallow around him again and Yeosang lets out a low, velvety moan, shuddering as thick, when his orgasm consumes him, hot cum spurts down your throat, forcing you to swallow all of this in one go. You lazily run your hand over his sensitive member a few more times, prolonging his orgasm as you do so. When he's completely drained, you remove his cock from your mouth. Thin strands of cum and saliva drip from your lips onto his skin, and you stick out your tongue to lick them off.

Your hands gently massage the tight muscles of his thighs. A few minutes pass before you sit on your knees and look at how beautiful and hot your boyfriend looks right now.

"This is the perfect gift for me, baby. I love you." He whispers as he reaches out with his hand to wipe away the saliva and cum from around your swollen, soft mouth. He almost gets hard again at the sight of your shiny lips. But can you really blame him? You're always so fuckable and so tender. He is a man in love. Sue him for it.

Now that you have successfully given him your gift, you smile sweetly at him and allow him to take care of you. He was very good at this, always making sure that he expressed his gratitude with endless praise and gentle actions. He leans forward and kisses you, even though your mouth was on his cock a few minutes ago. His lips lingered on yours, prolonging the tender, intimate moment before he pulled away with a sigh of satisfaction.

"Shall we take a shower?" You ask, looking at him through your long lashes. Really, the only thing on your mind is whether he'll fuck you now. And God, you don't want him to go easy on you.

"Of course, baby. That's just what we need, isn't it?"

You don't answer him; you crawl out of bed and make your way to the bathroom, almost vibrating with excitement. But before you step into the bathroom, you turn around in the doorway and look at Yeosang, who is still lying on the bed. His body is glistening with sweat, which makes the relief of his chest and abdominal muscles look all the more attractive and delicious. His soft hair is tousled, and there is a beautiful strawberry blush on his cheeks.

Damn it, you are so very much in love with this man. Your heart is literally going to stop because of how much you are in love with him.

"Sangie, happy birthday, my love."

[transmascsteveharrington]

Eddie takes the same train every day. It's in the far too early hours of the morning, dawn barely painting the city in a glowing coat of rust. The people on the platform next to him cling to the coffee in their travel mugs the same way sleep still clings to their lashes. They're tired, but not the bone-shattering tired I just finished a 10-hour bar shift that pushes down on Eddie's aching shoulder blades. The people on the platform are going to work, Eddie is going home.

His feet hurt, his hands reek of vodka and redbull, his ears ring from the loud music that played all night long and his voice is hoarse from shouting over it to be heard. But he doesn't care as he gets onto the train and sinks into a semi-comfy seat. Because while his job is alright bordering on fun most nights, it's the best job in the world when Thursday slowly trickles into Friday. Because on Thursday nights in the Hideout Eddie does not just serve drinks and flirts until the tip jar is bursting, no on Thursdays he gets to perform up on stage. It's an agreement with the owner, who has a soft spot for Eddie and his band and they have recently started to draw a crowd which helps too. So today Eddie doesn't mind the sleepless night.

He suppresses a yawn and rubs his eyes, smudging the traces of eyeliner left on his face even worse. It's when he lowers his hands, stars dancing in the corner of his eyes from the pressure, and leans his head against the cool window of the train that Eddie sees him. The prettiest man he's ever laid eyes on. Seriously how can someone be this attractive? Light brown hair that manages to be untamed and yet perfectly styled, tanned skin covered in so many freckles Eddie can feel himself salivate. And then there are his eyes. Liquid gold, glowing amber, honey in the sun and whiskey by candlelight.

It's not the first time Eddie has fallen deeply in love with a stranger on the subway and he doubts it's going to be the last time. But it's the most he has ever been enraptured. The outfit the guy wears is nothing exciting to write home about. Grey coat covering a blue suit typical corporate style. Nothing exciting, not even a fun tie. Eddie couldn't care less about the clothes though (unless they were on his bedroom floor).

He just watches the guys magnetizing eyes go back and forth over the page of the book he is reading. It's like watching a pendulum and Eddie finds himself hypnotized, enraptured, gone without any chance of return. Curious as he is though he forces himself to look away from the beautiful hazel eyes and tries instead to make out what the guy is reading.

He has to slap a hand on his mouth to keep himself from making a noise when he sees that the guy is reading A Court of Thornes and Roses. Now that is unexpected. Eddie never read it himself but he didn't think Mr. probably works for a big boy loads of money epicenter of capitalism company would read romance books let alone fairy porn romance books on the train to work. It's unexpected and Eddie instantly falls a little deeper. But unfortunately, as with all subway romances, it reaches its end as the train reaches the next station. Pretty boy sighs, dog ears his page (naughty) and gets up.

In the twenty seconds it takes for the train doors to open and the guy to step out Eddie fast forwards through the life they could have led. Imagines all the shared giggles and kisses and moments in time, sees all the stupid arguments they are going to have and the make up sex they'll have afterwards. Their first date will be in a little cafe just down the road from the Hideout, their wedding anniversary at a family-owned Italian place that reminds pretty boy of his grandma's cooking. The train door closes and Eddie's indulgent little fantasy ends. No point in thinking about all the what ifs, he's never going to see the guy again.

Except that he does. Next day, same time, same train, same exhaustion humming in Eddie's bones, same guy, different suit same book. Eddie stares. Can't help himself and maybe this is the universe giving him a second chance, telling him to make a move. But the only thing that moves is the guy when he reaches his stop, dog ears his book again, gets up and leaves. And well fall in love on the subway once, fall in love on the subway twice, Eddie thinks that this must be it.

But apparently, the universe is having a laugh because the impossible keeps happening, book guy keeps being on Eddie's train, and keeps on sitting right across from Eddie. The day he finishes acotar is the day they make eye contact for the first time. With a sigh he closes the book, looks up and catches Eddie staring. Eddie knows he should look away but he just can't, pinned under the guy's gaze he just keeps staring. And the guy stares right back, looks Eddie up and down and gives him a flirty little smirk and heart palpitations before he gets up.

The next day his hazel eyes widen in surprise when he sees Eddie sitting down across from him again like he too can't believe seeing the same guy on the subway twice. Eddie gives him an awkward smile, which gets returned just as awkwardly before the guy averts his gaze and continues to read Twilight. Okay, so pretty boy likes cheesy monster romance books. At least it's not 50 shades, Eddie thinks. Because he knows he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from saying something and coming off like a total creep, telling a stranger on the subway that the portrayal of bdsm in that book is unrealistic and harmful and should never be acted out like that. Instead, Eddie just blissfully gets to wonder whether the guy is team Edward or team Jacob.

After that pretty boy keeps noticing Eddie. They exchange little smiles that become nods that become whispered hi-s and see you-s. Summer comes by the time pretty boy finishes twilight and his coat and suit turn into polos and khakis and it makes Eddie want to bang his head against the train's window because no one should be able to look that good in such stuffy clothes. After vampires, it's time for some Regency romance and several weeks for frowning eyes as pretty boy tries to make it through pride and prejudice. On one particularly hot summer morning he just slams the book shut with a groan of frustration.

"Not good?" Eddie can't help but ask. Pretty boy looks at him and the annoyance in his face softens. It's probably the hot weather that drives a blush into his cheeks.

"Kinda?" he shrugs. "I loved the movie like that almost kiss in the rain? The hand stretch? I loved it."

It's endearing how passionately pretty boy talks about the movie. And god his voice is perfect too. If Eddie had not already been lured by his pretty eyes it would have been the siren call of his voice.

"But the book? It's like super complicated man. Who are half these people? Why do they talk like that. And I know it's like high-class literature or something, but it just makes me feel l...I don't know stupid."

"It's not stupid, Austen isn't for everyone," Eddie reassures him and that gets a little smile out of the guy.

"Thanks," he says, suddenly shy.

Eddie wants to bite him. Wants to take him out, wants to know what his kisses taste like and what the first song that made him cry was. Wants to learn his favorite kind of soup and if blue is his favorite color. It's silly, it's just a stranger on the subway he keeps meeting.

"I'm Steve by the way," pretty guy says and just like that mysterious, sexy stranger becomes Steve. It only makes Eddie want Steve more.

"Eddie," he says just as the train pulls into Steve's station. With an apologetic smile, Steve gets up.

"See you tomorrow, Eddie?" he asks, hopeful and all Eddie can do is nod, mouth gone dry.

"See you tomorrow," he promises.

Instead of going straight to sleep like usual when he gets home, Eddie takes out his songwriting book, sharpens a pencil and then writes like a possessed man. It's just a silly song, something whipped up and recorded within half an hour. Just a little love song starting with "he took the morning train going somewhere." It's not something he would play with the band, nothing he would put on an album. He puts it on tiktok instead before he finally falls asleep.

By the time he wakes up his phone is running hot with notification. Confused and bleary-eyed Eddie opens the tiktok app and promptly almost drops his phone. During the few hours he's slept his silly little joke song has gone absolutely viral.

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Of all the songs that could have gone viral it of course just had to be song he recorded as a joke about falling in love with a corporate guy reading fair porn on the subway. Fuck, Steve. It's so so so obvious that the song is about him. Eddie has no idea how he is meant to take the train tomorrow and look Steve into his gorgeous eyes. He dreads all night. When he gets to the Hideout the guys from the band tease him about the song, but insist they have to put it on the demo. It's not their usual vibe but according to Gareth it slaps and Jeff calls it a bop. Eddie just feels sick. Steve is going to hate him.

Only that when Eddie gets onto the train with shaky knees, Steve smiles at him like any other day. Pride and Prejudice has been replaced with a copy of One Last Stop which definitely seems more like Steve's kind of book. But Eddie is too nervous to really think about it. He expects Steve to lash out at any moment, call him a weirdo, wave a restraining order in his face. But none of that happens. Steve just reads, and when he gets up to leave tells Eddie "see you tomorrow."

Eddie's song becomes more and more viral but the subway rides home stay the same. Steve will say hi, smile at him, read, then get up and say bye. Nothing more nothing less. Maybe he just doesn't have social media Eddie prays. Even though his book choices seem very curated by the clock app. But Eddie is thankful for every day, Steve doesn't bring up the subway boy song. He is almost done with one last stop the day Eddie and the boys get the call from Kings Records about a deal. It's one of Chicago's biggest labels and it would mean the big break for them. Only that they insist on Subway Guy being on the record.

Eddie doesn't like it, doesn't like it one bit. But the guys beg him to reconsider it. The song went viral for a reason and Eddie knows he will never forgive himself he keeps them all from making their dreams come true just because some guy on the subway might think he is a creep. Only that Steve is not just some guy. He is the highlight of Eddie's day, the sugar in his coffee, the reason mornings aren't as awful anymore. He is also noticeably absent on Eddie's ride to the record label.

It's the same train, the same time as always, but the seat across from Eddie is vacant. No corporate hottie with a cheesy romance book to be seen. Maybe the universe is teaching Eddie a lesson, telling him that he really screwed it up this time. Make it big but lose the guy it's karma.

Eddie tries his best to put on a smile and not let his foul mood show when he enters the record label, the guys from the band are already there. He can't blow this for them just because his heart aches a little. Okay, maybe it aches a lot but this is Eddie's dream. It's all their dream. So he keeps on smiling, shakes the big official music producer guy's hand and gets led to studio. They spend the day recording subway guy and while Eddie still feels a tad bad, he can't help but enjoy the process. The song is good, objectively, actually good and it's nice to be told that.

They finish for the day, but before they can leave there are some legal things to sort through, so the producer guy sends them to legal. It's at the top of the building, glass walls, stunning view. A secretary leads them to a conference room with a smile and tells them their laywer Mr. Harrington will be with them shortly to sign contracts, sort through copyright etc. etc.

Eddie is tunes her out, too distracted by the city below him. The train tracks look like thin lines from up here and Eddie can't help but think back to Steve. The excitement of the day turns into guilt, making his stomach ache. Just as Eddie is about to run, to call it all off the door to the conference room opens and Eddie's jaw drops.

"Hi everyone," Steve greets the band. "I'm Steve Harrington, resident lawyer for King Records. Sorry for letting you wait, but I was super curious and wanted to listen to your song first."

Warm hazel eyes find Eddie's wide-blown ones. There is no way this is real, this has to be a prank. But Steve just pulls out a bunch of paperwork and notions for them all to sit down. Eddie barely listens when Steve goes over the legal aspects, Nancy is going to read over the contract when Eddie gets home anyways. Eddie is too busy staring at Steve.

"Wonderful, this is all," Steve says once they have gone through all the paperwork. "King Records is looking forward to working with you."

Steve smiles as he leads them back to the elevators.

"Gotta say, while it's not my usual sound, I really enjoyed your song. I relate maybe a little bit too much to falling in love with a stranger on the subway," he says as they wait for the elevator. "The guy you wrote the song about must be a pretty special guy."

"He is," Eddie finally, finally regains his ability to speak. "I don't just write love songs about any kind of stranger."

The elevator dings open but Eddie doesn't want to move. He wants to stay, a million questions on his mind, starting with you're really not mad and ending with so I was thinking spring wedding, maybe May. Thoughts? But corroded coffin drag him into the elevator say their thanks and then before he can do anything yet another door slides shut between him and Steve. The guys don't notice that something is off, too euphoric about their first record deal. But it's fine, their joy is infectious and Eddie doesn't pout about being dragged away from Steve. Eddie knows he is going to see Steve again.

It's too early in the morning when Eddie steps onto the train home from his last shift at work. There is a beautiful guy on the train, dressed in a pristine suit, romance novel in his hands. He doesn't wait for Eddie to pass by, just grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him down into the seat right next to him.

"Hi," Steve grins, far too awake this early.

"Hi," Eddie whispers back, giddy despite all his exhaustion. They are both quiet for a moment before Eddie blurts, nervous, "Read anything good lately?"

It startles a laugh from Steve and it's such a nice sound Eddie instantly wants to make Steve laugh again.

"I have actually," Steve smiles. "I would tell you all about it, but I'm afraid my stop is next."

He takes what looks like a bookmark out from between the pages of his current book. Which is weird because Steve never uses bookmarks. It becomes less weird when he hands the bookmark to Eddie, a phone number written in dark ink on it.

"How about you give me a call and I can tell you all about it over a coffee," Steve suggests and get up. "And you can tell me all about that song of yours."

Eddie blinks surprised once, twice, as Steve leaves the train. Then Eddie instantly digs out his phone. He should go home, sleep. But screw sleep, who needs to rest when you have a coffee date with a hot stranger you fell in love on the subway with to arrange.

[multifandomfanatic02]

"One-Sided, One Receiver"

pairing: alastor x fem!reader

synopsis: Alastor has taken you in under his wing after being mistreated by the vees. Vox tries to confronts you about your feelings for Alastor in hopes that you come back to work for him. His plans of course backfire.

warnings: MDNI fuckin tentacle porn, alastor is fully clothed, no pp for you to see sorry, alastor and his dirty mouth, praise kink ig? fingering

word count: 1.7k words

a/n: my first time writing this kinda thing, please spare me. Also thank you to @rubra-wav for the cute divider omg. and my two favorite in character smut authors @hazelfoureyes (my hazel basil) and @jyoongim giving me the courage to do this ✨️🙏

You've worked with Alastor going on years now. He had taken you under his wing after the treatment you received under the control of the Vees. It was well known they weren't the nicest overlords around but they knew how to sell.

You were Vox's little plaything in more ways than one. He had you pegged to be a pretty good spy and information gatherer. Of course, your mission was always to look for signs of the Radio Demon for his whereabouts. Alastor was very meticulous and every clue left for you was purposely placed, and you knew that. And because you knew that, you never bothered to inform Vox of the very little "information." In which came at a cost of your job and nearly, your life. Vox often underestimated Alastor's smarts. Their own egos constantly bumping each other in the head.

The night you lost your job, you were found outside the Vees' tower, horribly bruised and broken. Hands clutching at the brimstone dirt to try and stable yourself in some way, you saw a pair of black boots standing in front of your face, the demon's cane setting down on the ground.

"Well my dear, it looks like you finally received Vox's boot." He chuckled in amusement and offered a hand to you to help you off the ground. "I'm impressed with how you've gone about finding my little clues, not many have managed to connect them back to me."

With your hand still in his, you two disappear into his shadow and find solitude in a different part of Pentagram City, away from the Vees' territory.

"I have a deal for you. Well rather a job." He states conjuring up a needle and glowing green thread along with a small first-aid kit. He talked his way through his prompt while mending and sewing your wounds. You accepted and that was that.

The years you've worked along side him he's been quite kind to you. Despite not trying to be, he was a charmer. Your feelings for him changed over time. You often caught yourself doing things you never thought you would for the Radio Demon. The man you were convinced to hate in your previous employment. You'd bend over backward for him if you could.

The role he gave you was to do exactly what you had done for Vox in the past. There was never need to leave his side for you to gather whatever information he needed so you never looked suspicious. You looked more like an assistant or an apprentice.

No matter what you looked like you were doing, Vox was deeply displeased. How dare you escape his grasp and go kiss Alastor's ass. It was insulting from both you and the Radio Demon.

There was more to your companionship that meets the eye. While Alastor was an oblivious man, Vox saw right through you. It was clear to him you had fallen in love with the radio demon. And with the way Alastor has reacted to confessions in the past, the TV man knew exactly how to ruin your relationship with each other and potentially along with the contract that was signed.

Checkmate.

"What are you doing here, old pal. Don't you think you are on the wrong side of town." Alastor's body was facing away, Vox's presence clear from his heavy breathing. His attempt to stay calm and collected.

"I am here to offer Y/N's job back." He stood up straight, folding his arms behind his back and turning his unfazed gaze to you. "I'm willing to raise your pay by a substantial amount if you come back to me."

"Not a chance, Vox. After the way you and the other Vees treated me? Go to double Hell." You spat at him, your eyes full of disgust and turning your body away from him.

Vox's smile creeped further up the screen, wholeheartedly expecting that to be your answer. The wrong answer. The one to ruin you once again.

"You come back to work for me and I won't tell Alastor your dark little secret. You get to stay in his good graces and I get my favorite little employee." He held his hand out to you. Alastor's silence completely deafening as he zones in on the strange conversation. What could you possibly do to fall out of his good graces, he thought.

Your expression faltering slightly before returning to it's stability. Was it that obvious? Did everyone see your feelings like an open book? He was unfortunately right.. if Alastor knew how you felt he'd probably ditch for another 7 years. Either way the outcome of this would be you trapped in the hands of the Vees once more. "You're confused Vox. I think you should take a break from all that porn."

"Do not pretend to not know what I'm talki-"

"I think I've heard enough, Vox. If you are referring to her romantic feelings towards me, there's no need to inform me. I already know." Alastor finally stepped out from behind you to stand in between the two of you. "The only difference here is that she has not forced those feelings upon me in which I quite respect. She will not be going with you."

Alastor tapped his cane on your back to turn you around and continue your walk. You give one last glance at Vox behind you, his face obviously fuming in embarrassment before disappearing into Alastor's shadow with him and reappearing in front of the Hotel.

You two stood in front of the doors in silence. Not really awkward just a little stunned.

"Sir.. you knew?" Your head was looking down to his shoes, scared to look him in the eyes.

"Dear, do not be embarrassed." He placed his cane under your chin, watching your eyes shift from the ground to his own. "I'm willing to make another deal with you if you allow it. This will be a one time thing. One night of your pleasure and you will give me your soul. Your services will belong to me for the rest of your immortal life."

Not to long after that were you in his radio tower. His shadowy appendages wrapped around your ankles and wrists, your ass resting on the buttons of his desk. You were already in the nude and he still sharply dressed. "Let's get a few things clear, darling. You will not touch me whatsoever, no I will not remove my clothing-" He spoke in the midst of taking his coat off and hanging it up on the hook to the side of the desk. He carefully rolled up the sleeves to his dress shirt before turning his attention to you, continuing his sentence. "and do remember to make noise. I need this to be amusing for me as well."

The appendages snaked up your thighs, softly maneuvering themselves through your folds. Spreading your slick everywhere they could reach. Your shut eyes tightened underneath his delicate touch. Another pair of his tentacles made their way up to your face, pulling at the sides of your mouth, making you open your lips. One slipped inside your wet cavern, lapping up the saliva around your tongue. Moans now starting to slip out as it started to fuck your mouth, spit dripping down the corners of your lips.

"Now that's my good girl." Alastor's cold digits made their way to your clit, rubbing in rhythmic circles, eliciting a well earned gasp from your throat. Not rough enough to jump start an orgasm but enough to be quite pleasurable on it's own. What pretty sounds he thought. Your legs tensed at his praise, his voice. It was deeper and more staticy than normal. Seemed he was enjoying himself more than he'd like to admit.

Removing the tentacle in your mouth, he replaced it with his own mouth. Your heart fluttered at the way he moved his lips against yours. Not exactly how you fantasized your first kiss with the Radio Demon but you'll take it. You groaned into his lips, grinding your hips into his steady going fingers. "Alastor.. please. I need you inside me." Heavy breaths passed between each word that escaped your mouth. This was your part of the deal so he was willing to give you whatever you wanted. Within reason of course.

The extremity wet with your juices slid up and down your cunt, spreading you as much as possible before slipping into you with ease. It wasn't his dick but dear god did it feel good nonetheless. Some boundaries had to be made after all but you were grateful for his generosity no matter what he offered. It's pace started off slow, simply trying to make it's way to your cervix before anything else. His lips still continuing to massage yours, going back and forth between licking your neck and kisses.

He was making every piece of your body vibrate with excitement and pleasure. Alastor's pace speeding up once he finally hit the end of your vagina, nearly making love to your cervix. His fingers began to abuse your now sensitive clit. It didn't take long before that long awaited tightness started to form in your womb. Your breath hitched and various parts of your body twitched, letting him know that you were approaching your end. "Are you going to cum for me, my dear? My precious apprentice."

With one last bite to your shoulder, you came undone on his tentacle and fingers. Continuing to rub you through your high. Your head rested against his shoulder allowing you to control your breaths back to normal. All his dark restraints dissipated, letting you free.

Alastor licked his fingers clean and rolled his sleeves back down, grabbing the coat he hung up and placing it back onto his shoulders. "Now I do believe you need a bath. Feel free to use the one in my room. Be back down stairs in an hour, we've got business to attend to later."

And with that, you now belonged to him in heart and soul.

[httpswritings]

discovering true love — alexia putellas x reader

Warnings: mentions of past sexual abuse (without getting into detail on how that happened) and what it leads to for reader, therefore mentions of anxiety, fear to be touched, etc. 

Word count: 1392

Summary: Alexia and reader get into a relationship together, and reader have the need to tell Alexia about her past. Alexia comforting reader.

A/N: I've already warned about these sensitive topics above, so please only read if you feel like you can. 

You had been debating how to tell Alexia what happened to you in the past. 

You warned her about not sleeping with someone on the first date nor on the second or on the third, and she had no problem with it.

“I'm not interested in you because I want to take you to bed.”

Her smile was sincere, but somehow you couldn't believe.

Alexia did not question why you wanted to wait to have sex, many people need to get to know the other person better before they have it, so she didn't pay any attention to it.

What Alexia noticed was some behaviours, like tensing your muscles or flinching, you had, especially during physical contact.

It was not something regular, as if you'd only experienced that a few days a week, but you had a worried facial expression every time that happened.

Alexia kept asking if everything was okay and you nodded. 

You didn't want her to feel bad for wanting to touch you, but you knew the truth would eventually have to come out one day.

And that's what happened during an afternoon where you went to Alexia's house to have lunch and then watch a film.

As you were cuddling with her, she lowered her hand until she reached your elbow.

You instinctively flinched slightly, and she took it as if she had tickled you by accident.

She laughed and began tickling you, and you told her to stop.

For someone who didn't experience what you had to endure, tickling was something funny, but for you was a nightmare.

“Please, Ale, stop.”

You said it in a quite low voice, but she heard you perfectly.

Your heartbreaking tone alerted her.

“I'm sorry, my love, what's wrong?”

You knew you had to tell her what you were going through, but you didn't want to have that conversation, as you knew it was going to be a really tough one.

“Thank you for stopping.”

Alexia frowned. 

The look on your face screamed fear, accompanied by your chest showing a rapid rhythm of breathing.

“Of course. Why wouldn't I?” 

You shrugged and suggested to keep watching the film.

Alexia could feel how tense your body was, as if you were on alert, but she didn't know how to start the conversation.

At first, she thought that you had misinterpreted her, thinking that she wanted to take you to the bedroom, as you insisted quite a lot when you got with her that that was not going to happen until some time later.

-

[...] When you turned around, you saw a stunning blonde woman looking at you, holding your wallet, as it has fallen out of your purse.

You kept thanking her.

“I'm Alexia, by the way. Do you live around here?”

Her hazel eyes mesmerized you, making you respond some seconds later than expected.

You told her your name and the area where you lived.

Her vivid smile made you bit the corners inside your left cheek, making you more appealing to Alexia, knowing she had to try to get your number.

“Only if you want to, don't feel pressured to give it to me. You seem lovely and... yeah. I'd love to get to know each other.”

You accepted her request, making her smile even more, which send you over the edge.

“You seem lovely, too, Alexia.”

As you were about to say goodbye, you warned her about not sleeping with someone until you had known them better.

You were worried about if you had offended her, but she just shook her head, thinking you were probably tired of people only being attracted to you, and judging by your appearance and how appealing you were to her, she thought that used to happened more than you wanted.

“Don't worry. Just a casual date.”

-

But when Alexia remembered how you looked at her, as if you were a little bird on the street begging for some mercy, she knew something was off. 

Alexia did not touch you as you watched the film.

Many ideas crossing her mind explaining why you were behaving like that, most of them with the worst outcomes.

The film ended, and you turned around to looked at her. 

She smiled at you.

You recognized that smile.

It's the one people usually have when you told them about your past.

A compassionate smile that made you uncomfortable.

You didn't want compassion, you didn't want to have to go through the same conversation every time someone got closer to you.

There was no way Alexia knew it with certainty, but you could see in her eyes she could guess the problem.

Her hands were resting on the sofa.

You got nearer her face, tilting your head to the left to then ask if you could kiss her.

Alexia's smile changed.

She nodded and you kissed her delicately.

You placed both of your hands on her cheeks, laughing at the feeling of butterflies in your stomach, making her laugh too.

As you broke the kiss, you noticed her hands were still in the same position.

As if she didn't want to touch you, just in case you were going to break.

Sighing, you knew the time for the conversation had come.

“Ale, I want to talk to you about something.”

She simply nodded, as Alexia didn't know how to face that situation.

“Just... Don't get scared, okay? If it's too much for you, tell me, and I'll stop talking.”

You saw her frowning, so you decided to go for it.

As you were explaining to her what happened, you could see Alexia's face changing its expression.

Your eyes got teary, but you felt as light as a feather. 

Whatever Alexia's reaction would be, getting that off your chest was something you desperately needed.

“I know it's a lot and I still have a long way until I heal, so that's why I'm giving you the opportunity to break up wit—”

She didn't let you finish your sentence when she shook her head.

“I guess it's going to be challenging for both of us, but let's leave some things clear. Firstly, it was not your fault, therefore, do not feel as if you were a burden or as if it was your responsibility. Second of all, we'll have to have a few conversations about this topic, but do not feel pressured to talk about it. Third of all, we are not going to do anything you don't want to, as well anything I don't want to do. No matter how far we've gone, you can refuse to continue if you don't feel comfortable. And last, if I ever do something that makes you uncomfortable, please let me know. I will stop at that exact moment. I'm so sorry about the tickling before but—”

She broke down crying and you rushed to hug her. 

“I'm not crying because you made me feel bad about it but because of what you had to go through. I promise you are going to be safe and understood with me.”

You looked at her eyes, who were covered by tears, and for the very first time, you believed you were going to be safe around someone.

“I know, Ale, I know. Also, I want you to have one thing clear. If you feel like this is too much, or you feel uncomfortable, please tell me. I know you want to take care of me, but this can be really tough for you, too. So, let's have a good communication about it, okay?”

She nodded and sniffed, and you thought you had never seen something more adorable than that.

You took her hands.

“I'm going to place them around my waist. I'll probably flinch a little bit, but do not worry, I really want to try this.”

As she encouraged you, you placed her hands around both sides of your waist.

Your body tensed a little bit but you nodded at her as a way of agreeing to feel her touch.

You kept looking from her hands to her face, making you know that it was her who was touching you.

“Good job, my love. Let's leave it here for today, if that's alright? Little by little and step by step.”

You placed a quick kiss on her lips, finally tasting what true and genuine loved tasted like.

[danoslvrr]

“witches” - logan howlett x f!reader

summary ; you’re a witch, one of the most powerful x-men. when on a mission with your best friend, logan, you defy him, stripping away from him.

warnings ; angst— lots of angst. yearning. mutant!reader. sort of mean!logan. death. blood. love confession. reader has dark magic. fighting. mentions of logan’s past. logan will never be happy.

a/n: this is so not canon at all I’VE ONLY SEEN ONE X-MEN MOVIE I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ laughter echoes throughout the halls of the school as the bell finishes ringing. you finish up organizing your desk for the weekend, a blank expression on your face while you hum quietly. quick, running footsteps alert you of a presence nearing your classroom, and immediately, you lift your head up, expecting a student. what you find instead is a distressed scott, breathless and red in the face. “the professor needs you. now.” he states.

immediately, panic floods your entire body. what could have happened? was a student hurt? or worse— was one of the x-men hurt? you think of all the possibilities, the worst possibilities, as you follow scott down the hall, speed walking and weaving through the students. every time a student attempts to stop you to ask a question about homework or something else, you wave them off, shouting “i’ll be back soon!”

you don’t know if that’s true, though. from the sounds of it, you might be needed for longer than you lead the students to believe. when scott bursts into professor x’s study with you in tow, your face paler than usual with panic, the professor turns to you with a smile. he gestures towards one of the seats, though that doesn’t calm your nerves in the slightest. you suddenly notice that your best friend, logan howlett, is sitting in the room. that calms your growing nerves. he seemed calm, so everything must be fine.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ “you want her to what?” logan asked angrily. charles remained calm and steady as logan seethed, pacing back and forth in front of him. “you two will be going on a mission. together, to save storm. a dangerous one, yes, but i have full confidence in the two of you. you’re my most powerful soldiers, and i have no doubt you will excel.” the professor speaks and your face flashes with worry, excitement, and embarrassment, all mixed into one. logan has always been protective of you but this, this was different.

he looked like he was ready to draw his claws on the professor, finally standing in the center of the room between you and charles, taking a deep breath. “she’s not going.” he states firmly. “i’m afraid she must, logan.” charles says calmly, a smile still on his face. “well she’s not.” logan says through gritted teeth. you place a hand on his arm while you stand up, walking to stand beside him. “i’ll be fine.” you soothe him. “promise.” a smile spreads on your face and he appears to relax a little bit.

logan had been your best friend for a year now, and you two had grown inseparable during the short period of time you had spent together. you had fallen for him, and you fell hard. he made your heart flutter every time he walked into a room, your heartbeat quickening and breath hitching. you were sure he knew by now, from his enhanced senses, but the man seemed to be clueless. you had given up on trying to get him to see you like that a long time ago.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ that’s how you ended up here. on scott’s motorcycle, stolen by logan, with your arms wrapped around his midsection. you clung to him, terrified every time you two drove over a bump. logan had steady control over the motorcycle, and you knew he would never let anything hurt you, but it terrified you nonetheless. you squealed as he sped up, a look of pure determination on his face, brown hair messy from the wind, but still complete with those little tufts you loved so much. your legs rested on either side of his hips. his hazel eyes bore into the road, focused on keeping you safe. “don’t worry, sweetheart. i got ya.” he had said somewhere along the way, making your face burn crimson.

finally, you arrived at a facility, almost an eight hour drive away from the school. you easily could’ve flown there, but didn’t bother to, given as you had the power to manipulate time. you had sped up the process of travel, despite logan’s protests that you should save your energy for the real threat. he parked the motorcycle a distance away from the facility, quickly walking you through the (blatantly obvious) open door. his hand rested on your back the whole time, and your heart fluttered.

“c’mon,” he whispered into the dark. he gestured you over to the other side of the room where he was now standing. you hadn’t realized he had gotten over there, lost in your thoughts. “hey, sweetheart, you still with me?” he asked, causing you to snap out of your trance. “yeah, ‘m sorry, lo.” you whispered, quickly yet silently walking over to where he was standing. he pulled you against his chest, arm wrapped around your stomach. “gotta be quiet f’me, okay?” you nodded. “good girl.” your face burned up again.

he led you further into the facility, and as soon as you stepped into a room a bit brighter than the others, you knew something was wrong. he must’ve known too because he threw himself around you, dropping to the ground as he shielded you with his body, keeping you tucked against his chest. alarms went off around you, and logan quickly pulled you to your feet. he grabbed your hand, tugging you along with him as you left the facility.

“where are we going?” you shouted. “back to the school. ‘s not safe here.” you tugged away from his hand, running back towards the facility, determined to save ororo. “y/n! come back!” he roared, running after you, but you were quicker. well, not really, but your powers helped you to keep him behind as you fought into the facility. you fought off what appeared to be soldiers, quickly running through them as you used your shadow manipulation to make each of them begin to be attacked by their own shadows.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ your energy was wearing thin. you knew it, but you kept pushing, using your powers to fight off the men surrounding you. occasionally, when you would get particularly angry, you began to see the ghosts of all the people that had died here, cheering you on, which only spurred you on to not let ororo suffer the same fate. you finally found her in the bottom level of the facility, unconscious. logan quickly entered behind you, you having long forgotten to hold him back, too focused with the task of fending off the men attacking you.

you heard a scream, then thunder, felt a sharp wave of pain, then saw a blinding flash of light. you collapsed to the ground, head pounding. a warm, metallic liquid pooled in your mouth, though you couldn’t place what it was for a few moments. blood. your own blood. “l-logan,” you stuttered, “help.” “no, no, no, no,” he panicked as he dropped down to his knees beside you, pulling you into his arms. you had been stabbed in the chest by one of the men. how he had gotten to you, you didn’t know. your eyes, though hazy, opened to look at logan. you smiled weakly.

“my baby, please, god, not my baby.” he whispered, cradling your head with one hand, pulling you into his chest. a warmth spread through you, that familiar feeling you always got around logan. you smiled a bit wider now. tears pooled in his eyes, and he stared down at you. “m gonna get you out of here, alive, okay sweetheart? i promise.” he whispered, his voice cracking as he cried.

“lo… ‘s okay. ‘m okay. really. just… go. get her out of here. please.” you pleaded. for a moment, when he had called you his baby, you felt as if maybe, just maybe, he loved you too. you shoved the thought out of your mind, pushing it aside as you accepted the fact that you were dying. he leaned down, kissing your forehead. “can’t leave you here, sweetheart. i- i can’t.” he stammered, tears spilling rapidly down his cheeks. you reached up, cradling his face in your hand. he leaned into your touch. “i’ll be okay. i’ll find you, okay? i promise i’ll find you.”

“i love you.” you whispered, and then, you took your final breath, inhaling and never exhaling. logan sobbed. he buried his face into your hair, cradling you tightly against his chest, just crying and begging for somebody, anybody to help. to save you, to bring you back. “i love you,” he whispered. god, he felt like such a coward. he had let you die thinking he didn’t love you. “i love you so much, my sweet girl.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ carrying your body back to the school was one of the hardest things logan ever had to do. watching them bury your body was even harder. his heart ached, thinking of all the time he could’ve spent loving you out loud had he not been so afraid to speak his feelings, to just confess his love to you. he became angry, resentful. violent. he felt as if you were the one good thing in his life after he had lost his memory, and you had been ripped away from him so cruelly.

he didn’t speak to anyone for the days that followed. he spent all day in his room, sulking. he didn’t have it in him to cry. the days turned into weeks, the weeks turned into months. that feeling of numbness never left him. he had nightmares, every night, no longer of his past, but rather of your dead body in his arms. of your whispered “i love you.” you haunted his every thought.

thoughts of you coming into his room when you couldn’t sleep and just curling up into his arms and sleeping so peacefully. thoughts of you squeezing his hand beneath your desk when you two would teach a class together. thoughts of the kids asking him about you, about where you had gone. thoughts of what would’ve happened had he told you he loved you while you were still alive. he couldn’t breathe during these nightmares, he felt like he was suffocating. he had lost everyone, everyone he cared about from his past, and now his present and future.

logan howlett had been doomed to suffer.

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 4

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Masterlist)

Author’s note: I love this series and I want to thank everyone who comments/reblogs/likes. I love you all and it gives me so much motivation to keep working on this series 💕

Cassian limped out of his room, using the wall for support as he walked into the living room.

“Sweetheart, can you grab me the ice pack from the freezer?”

You and Feyre had been in the kitchen making waffles, but the two of you make your way over to Cassian to help him, abandoning the batter you were making. You grab the ice pack from the freezer and a hand towel to wrap around it, while Feyre walks over to help ease Cassian onto the couch, helping him prop his leg up on the coffee table.

You place the ice pack on his knee, grabbing a throw pillow and placing it under his leg.

“Are you okay? What happened?” You ask, concern etched onto your brows.

He sighs, “just my knee flares up if I do too much, and I got a little ambitious with the girl I hooked up with last night.”

Feyre snorts as he waggles his eyebrows. You sit on the arm of the couch facing him, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Cassian leans his head back on the couch, “yeah can you grab my pain meds? They’re probably in my bathroom.”

You scuttle off after he tells you what the bottle looks like, walking through his room into his bathroom. You’re not surprised at how messy it is, clothes litter the floor and papers are strewn across his desk.

You can hear Feyre and Cassian talking but can’t make out what they’re saying as you begin your search. You search through his drawers and medicine cabinet, finding various medicines, condoms, and even pads, but not the bottle he described. The sight of the pads reminds you of a story Mor told where she had told Cassian she was on her period and his response was, “let’s get messy, baby.” You shake the memory away, heading back to tell him the bad news.

“Bad news bud - no medicine.”

He groans, “where the hell did I have it last?” He starts muttering to himself, hoping he didn’t leave it at the gym, when he points to you.

“It’s next door - Az has it. I stuffed it in his gym bag. Could you go check for me?”

Last time you saw Azriel, you had fallen asleep on his thighs, most likely drooling over them in your slumber.

You woke up to a dark room, the tv screen black with disuse. You lift your head, your hand using the pillow to push yourself up. You move your head to find hazel eyes looking into your own.

Your head is a few inches off his thigh, your hand wrapped around it for support.

“Um, hi,” you say, a moment later realizing your hand was on his thigh, quickly pulling it away. You take a quick moment to check the side of your mouth with your hand, praying to any god that will listen that you weren’t drooling on him.

“Hi,” he tells you, “you missed a good movie.”

“Rain check?” You ask, and he chuckles.

“Are you going to fall asleep again?”

“If you ask me, no, but if you ask my friend Feyre, the answer is likely yes.”

He laughs, and you realize his hand is in your hair, as he untangles your hair from his fingers.

“That’s okay. We’ll just have to keep watching it until eventually you make it to the end.”

“Uh, yeah, sure Cass.”

You start to leave, but Feyre grabs your arm. “I just told Cassian about how we’re going axe throwing. I invited him and his brothers.”

Feyre winks at you as she’s turned away from Cassian, and you give her a look.

Nosey busybody. All because you had told her you fell asleep on Azriel last night. And how he was so kind to help you drop the truck off. And how damningly beautiful he was.

Curse your big mouth.

“You should ask them if they want to come while you’re over there. Cassian’s coming, if they’ll find that enticing.”

Her words mean one thing, but her eyebrow waggling screams, I don’t think Cassian will be the reason one of them comes.

You wander over next door, knocking as you approach their door. Your mind starts wandering while you wait for a response, and you wonder if they used to always meet in Rhys and Az’s apartment.

Your thoughts still when Azriel opens the door, surprise on his face as he looks at you. He’s shirtless, his tan chest on full display, some black shadow-esque tattoos adorning his shoulders. Your eyes trace the design, roving over his muscular chest.

You want to lick them.

You shake the intrusive thought away, and Azriel grins ever so slightly at your blatant ogling of him. You tell him, “Uh Cassian’s knee is acting up and he said he thinks his meds are in your gym bag?”

He opens the door wider, letting you in. “What’d he do to mess up his knee this time?”

You follow him as he leads you into the apartment, your words dying on your tongue, “something about getting too ambitious with a girl - what the fuck?”

Azriel stops to find you staring at their tv, an absolutely massive screen mounted to their wall. It practically takes up most of the wall, and you imagine watching a movie on it would feel life-sized. “And I thought Cassian had the biggest tv I’d ever seen.”

Azriel chuckles, “they got drunk one night and started having a pissing contest over who was bigger, and it escalated to them both buying absurdly large televisions.”

He rolls his eyes at the memory of them drunkenly purchasing tvs online, forgetting about the ordeal until they appeared a few days later, Cassian refusing to use Rhys’s tv for a week in solidarity of his manhood.

You two start moving towards Azriel’s room, worry brewing in your mind over what to do. To follow could be overstepping, to linger could be weird. He leaves his door wide open, looking back to see if you’re following, so you decide to be brave and step through his door.

His room is dark, black out curtains with tiny moons sewn into them adorning his windows. His bed is neatly made, a deep blue comforter laying on top. Your eyes are drawn to the little bat stuffed animal that sits on his pillows.

His room is neat - dirty clothes kept in a hamper in the corner, books neatly stacked on his nightstand and on a bookshelf. He even has paper tray organizers on his desk.

His laptop is open at his desk, the screen still lit with whatever he was doing before you knocked. You see a familiar photo of you and Mor on the screen before it cuts to black, leaving you confused.

You shake the thoughts away, telling him “I like the little bat.”

He stills, looking over at the thing. His face falls a bit, but he quickly corrects it, going back to his search for the bag.

“Thanks, Cass got it for me.”

“That’s sweet,” you tell him.

You breathe deeply, the air in the room shifting, but you’re not really sure why. You don’t want this to be the end of your interaction with him, so you ask, “so Cassian told me you’re a personal trainer?”

He bends over to pick up his gym bag from the floor, your eyes roving down his toned back to the shorts that generously show off his thighs. Maybe you could join their gym if you got to see him like this, tanned thighs and chest on full display.

“Yeah, he helped me get the job, actually. I’ve been working a lot more over the summer, trying to save money for when classes are in session.”

You nod, as he finds the bottle in his bag. “Do you like it?”

He walks back over to you, escorting you out of his room. “S’okay. Cassian’s much better at it than I am, but it’s not hard.”

You nod, wondering how both of them are at their jobs. You can imagine Cassian being loud and rambuctious, a personality trait you can’t see him without. Shouting motivational words as you squat. On the other hand you can see Azriel being calm, quiet, his presence hardly noticeable as you train, offering occasional motivation but knowing what his clients actually need is just someone there.

He reaches his hand out to give you the bottle, and you break your eye contact with him to grab it. His fingers brush over your hand, electricity crackling on your skin from his touch.

You look at his hands, noticing them for the first time. Covered in scars, the skin is scarred over, the texture rough and uneven. His touch is soft and warm, a contrast to the harshness of his hands. You don’t let your eyes linger on his hand for too long, worrying you’re invading his privacy.

You duck your head down, fighting the heat on your cheeks from his touch. If he notices, he doesn’t let on as you pull your hand back with the bottle, uncertain how long your hands had been in contact.

“Thanks I um, Cassian will appreciate this.” You give him a toothless smile, one that he matches. His eyes have a look about them, but you can’t spend too long thinking about it, especially considering Feyre was likely conspiring with Cassian as you two spoke.

“I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing before,” you say, reaching for the doorknob.

“I’ll see you later,” he tells you.

Your hand stills on the knob and you turn to look back at him. “Are you doing anything today? Around 3?”

He shakes his head no, “not really - why?”

“My friend Feyre and I are going to go to this place to try out axe throwing and I was wondering if you wanted to come with?”

His eyes widen in surprise, but you continue before he can reject you.

“Um Cassian’s coming, and Rhys is invited too if he wanted to come. It’s no big deal if you guys don’t want to - Feyre and I probably won’t be any good.”

He watches you tuck your hair behind your ear and he realizes you’re rambling. Despite how cute he finds it, how cute he finds you, he cuts you off. “I’ll come - I’ll text Rhys too.”

You smile broadly at him, a sight he’ll definitely be thinking about until he sees you again, “okay, um yeah I’ll uh see you then? You can come over to our place and we can all leave together.”

You’re about to leave again when you backtrack, “uh, come over at 2:30 so we can leave together. See you then!”

After you’ve left, he listens to your feet pad down the hall, and the door to the apartment next door opening and closing. He looks to the wall that separates your apartments, as if he can see you giving Cassian the medicine.

He trudges back to his room, furling and unfurling his fist, his skin hot from your touch. The image of you looking at his hands printed in his brain. You didn’t look at him in pity, perhaps the first person to do so. You looked at him like he was resilient, like he was more than what happened to him, like he was more than the scars littering his hands.

He lets the thoughts whirl in his brain as he logs back into his laptop, the screen lighting up with your social media pages he had been scrolling through. He tells himself it’s just to see who Cassian is living with and if she can be trusted, if she seems okay. He also decides if she happens to be seeing anyone is also pertinent information.

For Cassian’s safety, of course.

[scorpioriesling]

Ideal Mate + Ideal Date HC

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Reader x Rhysand / Cassian / Azriel / Lucien / Eris / Tamlin

Warnings: fluff, some light allusions to smut and brief suggestive scenes, light swearing

Summary: Headcannons/drabbles for (my idea!) what the "ideal" mate for each character is, with an ideal date for the two of them as well.

SR’s Note: Just another little idea I had, pls don't hate on me <3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Rhysand

You would have to catch his eye because you're "different" in some way from other females

Whether it is because you are human, you are creative, you are undeniably brave and don't care who sees it... he is enraptured by you

All of these things intimidate him a little bit, which is why he has to learn about you from afar first before he can finally meet you

He is so nervous when he finally introduces himself, but unashamedly peers inside your head to see if you're even the least bit intrigued in him as he is by you

He's glad he did, and had nothing to worry about; you've fallen at first sight

He makes a point to learn things you like; he has tried to teach himself how to paint, but gets frustrated that it is one of the only things he can't master

He already asked you for an evening by the sidra to paint and have a picnic; too early, though as now he is realizing he is no good at the skill you excel in

"I just want you to know, painting isn't something I'm very talented in doing..."

You get butterflies realizing the most powerful and dangerous High Lord could be so nervous on a first date with a human female

"Allow me to help you, then."

He melts when your fingers hold his on the brush, only using one canvas as you paint a picture together instead of two separate ones

He can barely focus, your jasmine scent so close as you sit side by side on the soft grass by the river in the moonlight. He's not even focusing on the painting, but on your side profile instead, so intrigued in your work, the way your brows furrow in concentration

The moonlight illuminates the soft freckles on your nose; he wants to lean in and kiss each one of them

"No wonder you do not paint very well; you don't seem to have a strong sense of focus," you smirk

Cassian

He didn't want to like you when he met you, but somehow... he couldn't help himself

Your icy stare, the way you carried yourself, your strong sense of independence... you made it clear you didn't want any man

But he wanted you

At first he didn't know how to act around you, usually the fae he took interest in were kind and welcoming... but you had a bite that would send every male in Prythian screaming. He wasn't sure how to make you like him

He tried kindness; he earned a scowl. He tried buying you things; another sour look. He even tried inviting you to things, so you'd feel less isolated; all that got him was rejection, every time. Finally, he'd had enough

"What is it with you? Why won't you let anyone in? I get it, your family sucks, but-"

"Oh, please. You know nothing about me or my family." You'd spat

"Yeah! You're right, I don't," he heaves. "I don't... you don't tell me. You don't let a single person in. You don't talk to me, or tell me anything, or," he huffs a laugh. "Gods, I mean. You wouldn't step back and realize that someone cares so much for you, or see that I've just been trying to get you to love me back all along!" He'd throw his hands in the air, and they'd fall to his sides

You stand there, frozen in shock. You really could not believe what you were hearing, coming from Cassian, of all people

One minute, you're contemplating how to go about all this. Then, the next minute, you're not thinking at all

You're closing the distance, two steps at a time, throwing your arms around his neck and crashing your lips onto his. His large hands grasp your waist, holding you tight to him

You pull away and stare up into his wide, hazel eyes, boring into yours in utter disbelief

"Y/N... I can't do this if you're not serious about-"

"Take me out then. I'll show you just how serious I can be." His chest rises and falls, and he just shakes his head and lets out a suprised chuckle

"You'd really go out with me?" He asks, playfully. You roll your eyes in response, your usual irritation returning to your face

"Rita's in 30." You pull away from him and saunter off toward your room in the House of Wind, feeling his gaze on your swaying hips. You were already planning out a rather scandalous outfit for tonight, involving a tiny red dress hanging in your closet...

"You better stop staring at my ass, Cassie, or I might just change my mind." You call over your shoulder. He prectically clutches his chest with his hand

You were going to be the death of him

Azriel

Hear me out -- Azzie is attracted to someone who is originally viewed as very naive and harmless, but has a confident and brave side as well

He would see you from afar, wearing a pretty dress, a big bow in your hair while you walk along the streets in Velaris with your friends

Your smile has this man blushing!! and he doesn't even know you yet, but he knows he must have you

"You okay man?" Cassian asks, and Azriel cooly plays it off as being too hot in the mid-day sun. Cassian just gives a confused "whatever", but Rhysand says nothing as he knows exactly what is happening here

"I need a drink, and since Azriel is so warm," Rhysand side eyes his friend, smirking. Azriel immediately starts sweating. He knows Rhys is up to something, and Azriel has been casually observing you the whole morning that he's been in Velaris. You'd just gone into the small coffee shop, the one adorned with peonies outside; one Rhys was guiding the group of bat boys closer to. "...why don't we stop in here for some refreshments?"

He thinks his heart is going to fall out of his ass right now. He couldn't go in there -- you were already in there, and he was in no position to be talking to you right now

"Rhys, I uh, I don't know if I want coffee right now," he stutters quietly. Rhys chuckles, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Cassian looks between the two, still confused

"Ohhhhh Az," he sighs. "I'm sure they have water in there, and I am rather thirsty myself. Say, Cassian looks parched too -- why don't you go in and get us three waters, hmm?" Rhysand asks. Azriel glares at Rhys

"I know. What. You're doing." He says, voice clipped. Cassian scrunches his face behind the two of them.

"I mean, I'll go in and get 'em, I am kinda hot now that you mentioned the sun-" Cassian starts. Rhys puts a hand up, stopping his Illyrian friend and shaking his head. A wicked smile plays on his lips.

"No no, Azriel said he would go. We'll just wait outside..." He slinks over to a small table, and Cassian plops down in a chair, seeming to ask Rhys what was going on. The High Lord only stares between Azriel and the front door, silently ushering him to go inside. Azriel growls, forcing one foot in front of the other before he is finally opening the door and entering the small shop

The scent of roasting coffee beans and vanilla cream wafts through the air, the smell intoxicaitng and fresh. It only takes Azriel a moment to spot you, the blue and ivory sundress hugging you stunningly and the cream bow a stark contrast against your rich, flowing hair. He glances toward the window, and meets the eyes of both Rhysand and Cassian. Cassian gives him a cheesy thumbs up, and Azriel rolls his eyes as he heads towards the front counter. You're at the other end, waiting on your order

"Hi! How may I help you?" The cheery older woman behind the counter greets him. He can barely focus on anything, let alone the fae in front of him engaging in conversation when you're closer than you've been all day to him

"Three waters..." he says. The older lady follows his line of sight, a small smile pulling at her lips as she begins to chuckle

"I'll have those right out for you," hes still staring, and she shakes her head, continuing to smile at him. "Her name is Y/N."

This snaps him out of his daze. He looks to the cashier once more. "Y/N?" He repreats. The name has never sounded so lovely. Maybe it wouldn't have, but now he knows it belongs to you. The woman nods her head

"Yes, Shadowsinger." His lips part, but no words come out. "And, she is here every day around lunch time. Unwed. So... I'd suggest you go over there and do something about that, hmm?" Azriel can't hide the heat on his cheeks as the woman winks at him, turning to get working on a few orders. That was his turn to walk away, walk over to you...

As he approaches your side in the waiting area, his breath quickens. He can't help but notice you're alone, your friends have gone outside and oh-so-conveniently struck up a conversation with his two brothers.

Bastards.

"I don't think I've ever waited this long for a drink from here in my life," you say quietly, chuckling at the end. He only blinks, not sure if what he was hearing was true. Were you really speaking to him?

He turns to you, only to find you already gazing up at him. He can't help but smile, revealing his perfect teeth as he fumbles for what to say back

"Do you, come here? Often?" He asks. He already knew the answer, but...

"Almost every day!" You beam. "And you?"

He shakes his head. "First time in."

You nod slowly. "Oh... my. Well, I hope you've tried something delicious for your first experience." You grace him with another small grin, and he feels like he might melt at the sight. He hadn't realized how close you'd stepped, or maybe he had? Only mere inches separated-

"Three waters!" The cashier calls, setting down the three glasses in front of Azriel. His cheeks heat as he stares at them, the wide-eyed expression from his new crush not going unnoticed. It isn't long before the most lovely sound is filling his ears though.

You were giggling beside him.

"Oh... my..." you say between breaths. Azriel sighs, leaving the three cups on the counter and facing you. He can't help but let loose a chuckle himself, and your cheeks redden at the sight of him

"Well, it seems I'll need to come back and actually try something next time..." He says. You continue to giggle, trying hard to calm down and peer down at the floor, shaking your head.

"Hey, I've got a lot of great suggestions, but..." the cashier silently sets down your drink in front of you, and you pick it up. "...plain water maybe isn't one of them." You grin. Azriel grabs his water, taking a long swig and you wished that perhaps it was you on his lips instead-

You turned to walk toward the door, your new companion keeping up with you and holding the door open for you to exit. You open your mouth to thank him, but he beats you to it

"Maybe you can show me what you'd suggest? Next time?" Your wide eyes gaze up at him, his hazel ones squinting in the midday sun. The breeze lightly brushes his black hair across his tanned forehead, and you try really hard to supress the grin spreading across your face

"I'd meet you here tomorrow, but;" you hesitate. "Well, uh, I have ring training tomorrow at this time... but maybe the day following?" You look at him sheepishly. He looks as if he is ready to fall to his knees in front of you

"I'll be here, the day following." You rise on your tippy toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before skipping off to meet your friends. His eyes trail after you, his cheek tingling from where your lips made contact. He doesn’t register his brothers rising from the table and approaching him

“So uh… where are our drinks, Az?”

Lucien

Classic, but Lucie is going to fall for someone (kind of like Az) who is very soft and kind but can also hold her own

He is also going to rizz the shit out of you... but I feel like that is already a given

I feel like he would actually meet you in the Day Court when he's there on an assignment, and you'd be one of Helion's advisor's daughters and he would immediately be drawn to you

The gold and white dress and accessories you'd appeared in... oh he's down bad

He saw you at first in a group setting, not really being able to keep his eyes off of you but then later he spotted you near a pond of sunlight and couldn't walk away

He was walking closer, and noticed you actually weren't alone but were actually comforting a small child who appeared upset near the pool's edge. The boy stood, peering down at you on your knees as you ran your thumbs across his cheeks. Lucien leaned against a nearby tree, not wanting to interrupt, but also so intrigued by the scene in front of him

"There is no need to worry, sweetheart," your tender words pulled at something deep in Lucien's chest, though you weren't speaking to him at all. The little one sniffled and nodded, staring deep into your eyes. "I know it is frightening when we are lost, but look," you give the boy an award winning smile and Lucien feels like his heart is singing for you already. "...I've found you, and you're safe here! You know?" You say. He reaches out his little arms and braces them around your neck, hands tangling in your cascade of curls. You pull him in close, not letting go until he does

You take his precious fingers in yours, and he walks closely beside you as you make your way back to the palace. "Now, let's go find your mommy, okay honey?"

Lucien swears he could cry, hes never seen anyone so kind and gentle. He couldn't imagine having someone like that to love, and made the decision then that he would be introducing himself to you later that evening, properly

And when he does... ohhhh he charms you. It wasn't hard for you to fall for Lucien as quickly as he fell for you; he practically screamed "husband material"

He'd taken you on many dates, but the one that was the most special was when he brought you to a waterfall on horseback, just before sunset. He tied your shared horse to a tree, and led you to a small alcove where a small picnic was pre-set, the sunset streaming through the falling water just right (thank you, Helion). Apple pie, roasted turkey, and autumnal wine adorned the small blanket, as well as a little golden box in the middle. Your hand flew to your mouth

"I know the sunset and these falls make you who you are in the Day Court," Lucien says sheepishly as he guides you to the spread. You take your seats and he doesn't let go of your hand. "I wanted to show you a little bit of what makes me who I am too..." he trails off. You can't help the silver lining your eyes as you take in the scene around you

"Autumn and Day... who would've thought." You smile at him, and he reaches for the box. Opening it, he pulls out a thin golden necklace with a sun symbol on it.

"I love you to great lengths, Y/N," You only then notice as he is unclasping it that he already adorns one of the same around his neck.

"I don't want to leave you, or this place anymore," he says, reaching behind your neck to fasten the clasp. He breathes in your hibiscus scent, and his fingers trail down the side of your cheek. You can't help but let a tear slip free, realizing you'd never have to say goodbye again

"I won't ever leave you, or this court, again."

Eris

You caught the attention of Eris because you were plain

Literally

Eris was so excited (but, confused?) because he'd never genuinely loved a female beyond his sexual encounters, then he'd met you and you'd absolutely ruined everyone else for him

You were overlooked by everyone, which made you feel horrible most of your life, but Eris treated you like a queen, and he appreciated your simplicity and liked how uncomplicated you were

You were not even High Fae; which didn't go over well with Beron, but Eris didn't care. You made him feral. He'd kill his own father for you if it meant spending the rest of eternity with you.

His father was always trying to marry him off with other High Fae or noble females, but they were always too much to handle or too bratty and stuck up to Eris

He also didn't appreciate his father telling him who he would be allowed to chose and who he couldn't

But boy oh boy, did he choose you

He liked to keep your outings private, so no one would be able to swoop in and ruin the time you had together

But, that did not stop him from going all out for you and giving you all of the things you did not get to indulge in

He definately used his status to his advantage...

Your favorite date to go on -- a repeat date, as it was a shared favorite -- was to the orchard. Eris would spoil you by taking you shopping the day prior (you'd almost always choose a crimson or maroon sundress with matching flats) for a new outfit, and you'd wear said outfit the next day

You'd always wear one of his rings, though the two of you were not yet properly wed, and the sight of it made him weakkkkk I am telling you weak

He'd reserve the orchard for the day, and the two of you would ride on the wagon, share warm cider, and walk along the treelines as you both did when you were just young children

Obviously there would be apple picking, and he'd purposefully wander near a tree with ones dangling higher than you could grasp

"Eris, I can't-" you huff, stretching an arm up and dancing on your tip toes in search of the hanging fruit on a branch out of your reach. His eyes would wander, taking in your bare legs as your short dress rode up higher on your thighs-

Ughhhhh, this is not the place, Eris

"Allow me, my love." He would bend down, hiking you up on his shoulder and standing at his full height, arm bent and wrapped around your knees as you sat atop his shoulderblade. You'd wobble a bit, but, now you could reach the Honeycrisp you'd been going for.

Reaching toward branch, you grab on and yank. Seeing it glimmering in the warm September sun, you can't help but to bite into it, a satisfying crunch as a tiny drop of juice trails from the corner of your lips. A satisfied "hmmm" escapes your throat as you close your eyes, but the male beneath you catches on to what you're doing

"Heyyy," Eris slides you off his shoulder, hands firmly gripping your hips and gently setting you on your feet. Your spun around to face him, and he smirks down at you. Your now wide eyes stare into his amber ones as he leans in, licking the drop near your mouth and then leaning in close to your ear

His breath was warm on your neck, and a shiver ran down your spine as goosebumps appeared on your arms. His warm hands trailed up and down your upper arms, his voice low and husky. "These are for picking -- I thought we could eat... later..."

Tamlin

So... stay with me here on this one. Tam Tam is getting a mate that has a power dynamic that is going to absolutely match his okay

Whatever energy you give me, I'm matching it... that is the dynamic that this duo is giving here

Also... I feel like after Feyre, he would pull a complete 180 and be with someone who would put him in his place from the very beginning

His previous relationship really messed him up, but after he healed from that... he absolutely changed for the better I feel like. I think he would be with someone who would keep him in check, remind him when he's acting out, and almost maybe scare him a little? Kind of like Cassian and his ideal mate lol

Except... his ideal girlie would also be maybe just a tad unhinged

Just like him

It's alright... we love to see it

Anyways

His mate would be very modernly beautiful, I feel like; what comes to mind when you think of "society's beautiful". Not fake, however. Just very blessed, and just born this way -- lucky her! Lol

This, of course, caught Tamlin and the entirety of the Spring Court's eye

He was not very intimidated by his ideal mate, at first, but when he got to know you a little bit better, he wanted to do everything right and not screw anything up like last time

If he did mess up, or do things that were genuinely wrong or out of line... oh did he hear about it. You definitely kept him in check

Yet, another reason the Spring Court loved you

He did get easily jealous of other males, High Fae and lesser faeries alike for looking at you too long, talking to you, and fawning over you of course

Who wouldn't?

He'd wrap his arm around you a little tighter when in public, or kiss you literally right on the mouth in the middle of the square if people were staring at you for longer than he'd like

But, you honestly didn't care. You reveled in it, the attention you got from others, which in turn, drove him wild and would lead to his posessiveness of you taking over-

Phew... yeah uhm

Dating... he wouldn't even bother making dates private. He liked showing you off, even though other guys looking at you made him nuts

You liked public dates, because you liked to be shown off, and again, his posessiveness was so sexy and would usually lead to a great time (in PRIVATE, of course) once the nice lil date was over

You'd make it even better by wearing something fun for him when he'd take you out. Let's say... dinner, for example

You'd start sitting across the booth from each other, both recieving polite hello's and compliments from every faerie who passed your table. You'd of course return them; one thing he'd picked up from you was your politeness and manners

After a little while of spending time together and him gazing into your eyes, he'd seem a little... distracted... and slip into the same side of the booth with you instead, just to be closer to you

It didn't really help his case, but he really liked the smell of wildflower and honey that seemed to radiate from you

He'd have one arm around your shoulders, tracing small circles on your skin with his finger and you’d giggle because it tickled

But it also distracted you from his other hand slowly tracing up your thigh...

...and under your short, oh so short skirt...

Finally, you'd caught onto what he was doing and sat up straight, the corset top you'd expertly paired with this outfit for this reason alone doing you justice as his gaze flicked down to where it curved low below your collarbone. A soft growl graced the shell of your ear, and you only chuckled as his hot breath tickled the side of your neck

"You didn't put anything on under this... did you?"

[prythianpages]

The Family Reunion | Azriel

Azriel x Green Witch Reader | summary: Azriel accidentally welcomes your dysfunctional family into your home.

warning: I can't really think of any at the moment besides violence from a witch fight, basically you being protective over Az

a/n: There's not very much known about the witches in the ACOTAR universe so I'm just taking creative control here (: This can be read as a stand alone fic.

As Azriel sits in your living room, the familiar weight of concern settles in his chest. The past few days have felt like a quiet storm and the bond between you, has fallen eerily silent far too many times to go unnoticed. 

Of course, he’s already asked if you were alright but he sensed the lie as it brewed in your eyes before it slipped out of your lips. The shadows that remain at your side keep him updated on your whereabouts but besides a crow following you one day, there’s nothing else to report. He wonders if you’re upset with him.

Azriel tries to engross himself into the book–as it’s one you recommended to him– in his hand but his eyes keep drifting from the pages. He steals glances toward the closed door of your study. A vibrant green glow, your magic, spills from the edges of the door. He tries to pull on the bond but cannot find you on the other end. You shut him out. Again. 

Three knocks pull him out of his thoughts. Ignoring the skittering dance of his shadows and the way Pearl–your pet spider–retreats back to her corner, he opens the door. There’s no one on the other side. A perplexed furrow forms on his brow as he peeks into the hallway, dispatching his shadows to investigate further. They return with no insights, leaving an unsettling silence in their wake. 

“Hey Az?”

Azriel closes the door and locks it. He turns to see you stepping out from your study. You smile at him sheepishly, toying with your glowing hands. “Can I have some of your blood?” Your voice is surprisingly calm, despite the look in your eyes, and you must mistake his silence as apprehension because you’re adding: “Just a drop!”

He would’ve gladly granted your request but before he can even utter a word, a sudden shift in the air catches your attention. Your eyes widen, a touch of panic flickering within them. It’s a fleeting moment where control slips from your grasp, and in that heartbeat, your side of the bond bursts open.

His wings quiver as if struck by an invisible force. A torrent of emotions crashes over him like unrelenting waves on a storm sea, flooding and overwhelming his senses. Worry etches lines on his face at the raw intensity of your feelings. 

“Toad’s blood!”

In the blink of an eye, he’s standing in front of you, his hands cradling your face. The hazel depths of his eyes burn with concern but you avoid his gaze, your frantic eyes darting around the room as if looking for something–someone.

“y/n, my love,” Azriel implores softly, his heart pounding in his chest as he desperately tries to navigate through the sea of your emotions. “What’s wrong?”

Your eyes land on the door and a palpable tension fills the air. “You opened the door.”

Azriel’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Someone knocked.”

You swallow thickly. “How many?”

“What?”

Your voice is firmer this time. “How many knocks?”

“Three.”

You’re pulling out of his grasp abruptly. You run back to your study and a trail of perplexed worry etches further across Azriel’s face as he follows after you. With a furrowed brow, he observes your hurried actions. Windows are slammed and shut and locked in quick succession. He blinks and you’re running to your room next. “y/n, please talk to me! Tell me what’s wrong!”

You pause, if only for a brief moment, your eyes finally meeting his. “You just opened the door to a gateway of evil.”

“Evil??” Azriel’s wings flinch, the word carrying an unexpected weight. “What evil?”

“My mother.”

A sense of impending danger guides your every move and you’re sprinting past him. Over your shoulder, you urgently command, “Quick! Lock all the windows!”

Azriel responds without hesitation. He races back to your living room, determined to secure the window he opened earlier. As he does so, he sees a crow flying toward him. It’s familiar to both him and his shadows. The dark tendrils hasten to close the window beside him and the crow, unable to halt its trajectory, collides with the glass.

“I think that's all of it,” you say with a sigh of relief. However, it’s short lived as an overlooked detail dawns on you. The window in your kitchen.

Azriel, his shadows and you are already racing toward the kitchen but despite your efforts, you’re too slow to close it. Your sock clad feet glide across the floor and Azriel wraps an arm around your waist from behind, preventing you from falling. It tightens around you, drawing you snugly against him in a protective embrace, just as the crow flutters its wings menacingly and tauntingly above you. His eyes narrow at the bird and his shadows poise like a snake ready to strike. 

Shrouded in a swirling cloud of purple smoke, the crow undergoes a mystical transformation. Its plumage shifts and twists, feathers unraveling and converging as if guided by an unseen hand. A silhouette begins to take form amid the enchanting mist and as the last tendrils of purple dissipate, a beautiful older female stands before you.

“That is not the way to welcome your mother, Dearest.”

**

The last time you saw your mother was when Hybern became allies with Spring. She had asked you to join her coven, out of worry for you if you stayed in the court that was crumbling apart, but Feyre had already secured plans to bring you to Velaris. The City of Starlight was a safe haven for you…until the Hybern attack unveiled its secret. She’s been reaching out ever since–sending countless letters and when those did not work, she started sending ravens.

Though she delves in dark magic, you know your mother means well. She loves you and has been protective of you. Overly protective. Perhaps, you were being dramatic about it all but you weren’t ready for her to meet Azriel yet. You didn’t even get to finish the protective spell you were planning on casting upon him. All you needed was a drop of his blood to complete it…

“Mother,” you reluctantly greet.

She smirks at you. Every muscle of your body tenses and you place your hand over Azriel’s to let him know it's okay. Ever the perceptive one, your mother catches the subtle gesture. Her gaze falls upon the protective presence behind you. She narrows her eyes and points a perfectly manicured finger at him as if to say “I’ll deal with you later.”

With a wave of her other hand, a cage materializes out of thin air. You can barely make out the tiny green creature in it before your mother is thrusting it into your hands.

“Hold your father, will you? I need to go fetch your sisters.”

She says it so casually, it’s comical almost. You grimace as your gaze flickers to the small lizard. It nervously scurries within the small cage it is confined in and you’re tempted to drop it. 

Your father, a former high noble fae from Spring, had been cursed into a feeble gecko at the powerful hands of your mother. She did it shortly after she caught him trying to take your life at the mere age of two. He had plans to kill your mother next and take her heart for his own so now your mother loves to torment him by carrying him with her so that each remaining day of his life is as miserable as can be.

Verena, your mother, walks over to your door as if she owns the place. With an air of confident authority, she swings it open, revealing two females on the other side—your sisters, each birthed from a different father. One, with dark, flowing hair and sinister eyes, wears a smirk that mirrors Verena’s. Maeve. The other, with lighter hair, possesses kinder eyes, and delicate white feathery wings. Thea. She looks at you apologetically. 

You’re slipping out of Azriel’s grasps and joining your family in your living room. The cage falls from your grasp, rolling onto the ground. Binx dives out from the shadows, eyes alight as the cat spots the green creature within. A curious paw swats at it, its claws peeking through the thin gaps at the top of the cage but no one bats an eyelash at the terrified squeak.

A scowl settles onto your face. “Mother, Maeve, Thea. As quickly as you arrived, I want you all to leave,” you say, clapping your hands at them for emphasis. “I did not invite you here.”

“No,” your mother agrees with a nod but her eyes are fixed on something–rather someone behind you. “He did.”

**

Four pairs of eyes are on him and Azriel only cares about one. Yours. His knowledge over your family is limited. He knew your father was a piece of scum but he did not know he still lived. There’s a tightening in his chest and he knows it's coming from your side of the bond. He sends a wave of reassurance through it because if you’re okay, he’s okay. Even if your family is a little overwhelming.

Verena circles around him, her gaze sharp as the crow she morphs into. Azriel stands still, his shadows swirling defensively. When Verena extends toward the talon of his wings, the shadows snap at her, causing her to withdraw. A wicked grin appears on her face.  “A Shadowsinger,” she observes. “What is your name?”

“Azriel.”

Verena hums, stepping back, her eyes scanning every inch of him. There’s a devilish gleam in them when they settle upon his large, membranous wings. He instinctively tucks them back.

“By The Mother, you look absolutely ravishing,” purrs your dark-haired sister.

The lighter haired sister beside her smiles. “He is quite beautiful.”

“Maeve,” the darker haired sister introduces herself. Her dark brown eyes sparkle in amusement. She holds her hand out to him. “We haven’t yet had the pleasure. y/n has been hiding you for far too long.”

Azriel does not take her hand. Instead, he watches her with wary eyes and she laughs. As her eyes deepen in hue, mirroring the unsettling darkness akin to yours, an ominous glow envelops her hands. It resembles a delicate yet foreboding cloud of gray smoke that dances around her fingers. 

**

“Don’t touch him,” you growl, raising your own hand. A raging green fire roars from your fingertips as the darkness takes your eyes.

Maeve turns to hiss at you. Her cloud of smoke is steadfast as it continues its path to Azriel. Your mate. You hiss back but your mother rests a hand on your shoulders and out of the corner of your eye, you swear Thea sends a reassuring gesture your way.

“Oh, come on.” Maeve persists, her voice, both enchanting and seductive, beckons like a magnetic force. She steps closer to him, ignoring the heated glare you send her way.  She places a hand on his arm and you're shaking with rage as you recognize the haze that clouds Azriel's eyes. 

“You look hungry. Would you like a taste? What do you think, Shadowsinger?”

Smoke wraps around him, infiltrating his senses and charging the air around him with an alluring energy.  It smells like chamomile and lavender–a scent intricately tied to you, the enchanting witch he calls his own. You’re shoving away from your mother and prancing on your sister, the two of you tumbling to the ground. “Let him go!”

The room becomes a radiant spectacle, bathed in the ethereal clash of gray and green magic. The air is charged with the tension of their coexistence and you’re pinning your sister to the floor beneath you. “Why do you always have the thirst to take everything I have?”

“Because it’s fun,” Maeve hisses at you, her dark eyes a reflection of yours. “Besides, our family is in need of a new pet, don’t you think?”

“Girls, stop it this instant!”

“Can it be something cute this time? Like a puppy!”

“Thea, shut up!” You say brusquely as you look up.

Thea winces at your tone. Maeve takes the sliver of your distraction to push you off of her. The two of you hastily get to your feet and you hold your hands out ready to unleash the vibrant, verdant rage coursing through your veins at her. 

“I think y/n is ravishing this evening. Don’t you?”

Azriel’s voice is light, dreamy almost as he’s in a trance. He blinks and the tendrils of magic briefly cloud his vision before it clears. He steps away from Maeve’s cloud of smoke, repulsed by her magic and his eyes are searching for you.

His gaze, steady and filled with a profound warmth, captures yours and it feels like a gentle cascade of water extinguishing a flame. The vibrant green fire in your hands gracefully fades away, mirroring the softening of your eyes in the tender exchange. 

“And he’s not even lying,” Maeve frowns with a huff, her voice and eyes returning to normal. Disappointment is written all over her face. No one has been able to escape from her power of seduction before. “How dull.”

Your hand finds solace in Azriel’s and he locks his fingers with yours. You smile at him and he smiles back. You are the only enchantment he desires and your heart swells. You're so happy you could kiss him--

Thea, always one step ahead of everyone, gasps. “He’s your mate.”

Your mother’s eyes undergo a shadowed transformation of her own, reminiscent of a crow’s ominous gaze. Azriel feels a subtle unease but you remain composed. Gracefully, she approaches, her movements mirroring the fluid elegance of a bird. With a discerning sniff, she assesses the air around you both. Her keen eyes flicker to Azriel’s chest–where the emerald, the greatest token of your affection, securely rests beneath his leathers. His siphons awaken in response, pulsing with a powerful and protective luminescence.

“Your heart. Your precious, precious heart,” she whispers, her voice on the brink of tears.

There’s a drastic shift in her voice when she speaks again. It darkens with a mother’s fierce intensity and echoes through the room like a hissing serpent. “You’ve given it to him.”

Your mother outstretches her hand, toward Azriel, her gesture laden with an unmistakable agony. With a resolute urgency, you press your hand against Azriel’s chest, your other hand still wrapped around his. You can feel the pulse of his heart beneath the gem. It’s fast and erratic but gradually soothes under your touch. 

Given your family's history, you can't blame your mother for reacting this way. Maeve's father was a charming merchant, who enjoyed traveling through the sea, and was very aware of his heartthrob status. Your mother was not immune to his allure and though she did not love him, she was possessive over him. So when she caught him touching another female, she cut his hand off, forcing him to always think of her for the rest of his life. She keeps the hand she severed preserved in a jar at her house. 

On the other hand, Thea's father was a peregryn warrior who loved studying the stars in his free time. He was probably the best male out of all three...if he hadn't picked his loyalty for his court over your mother. Surprisingly, your mother left him alone and unharmed but she made a good example of him to you all because even the kindest of men were not to be trusted.

But Azriel is different. 

His sweetness, care and love create a warmth that gently embraces your heart. You’ve spent a lifetime shielding your heart as your mother taught you but with Azriel, it feels different. He is your mate. Your other half, crafted by The Mother and Cauldron itself. In his presence, you find a haven where vulnerability is not a weakness but a welcomed connection. 

“I love him.”

Wheeling with a snarl, she fixes her sharp gaze back onto you. Her hand tenses midair and her talons peak out before dropping it back to her side. She leans so close you can feel her breath tickle yours.  Her gaze travels down to the obsidian necklace you keep on at all times for protection and she feels her throat tighten when she sees the new charm attached to it. It’s an initial. A for Azriel.

“You stupid, foolish girl. What have you done? Have I taught you nothing?”

Azriel growls and his shadows tense as they await their master’s next order. Your hand tightens against him and you send a wave of reassurance through the bond. This was exactly what you had been hoping to avoid. The last male you introduced to your mother was turned into a frog and you hadn’t put up a fight as the male had fallen under Maeve’s spell. But this time, you were willing to fight and defend what was yours. 

“I think it's quite brave,” a dreamy voice cuts in through the tension. “A true testament to love.”

“Shut up, Thea.” Maeve snaps. “No one asked for your opinion.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time you ask for a reading!”

“Azriel.” Your mother’s voice is sharp, demanding attention. “You hold something extremely dear to me now. If I find you to be careless with it–if you so much as hurt y/n in any shape or form…I will hunt you down, rip your heart out and eat it for breakfast.”

“She’s not joking,” Maeve decides to chime in. “She ate Thea’s lover for dinner once.”

“Must you always jump at the opportunity to remind me?” Thea retorts with a look of pained disgust on her face and you almost feel bad for her. She did love that male terribly, as undeserving as he was.

“I don’t know why it’s such a big deal, my dearest,” your mother says in a perplexed tone. She rolls her eyes at the scoff she received in response. “He was a human.”

“He was the love of my life!”

“And others too.” Maeve cuts in, lips curled into a lopsided smirk as she gazes at her nails. “Mother did you a favor there.”

“This,” you say to Azriel, lifting your chin toward your family. Your mother and sisters continue to bicker back and forth while Binx zooms after the rolling cage imprisoning your father. You sigh deeply and Azriel now understands why you were on edge all week, why you had shut him out.

 “This is my family.”

As if on cue, your family turns to him. Binx rests a paw on the rolling cage, halting its movement. Even the green gecko inside seems to peer curiously at the Shadowsinger, its tiny eyes glinting in the dim light.

 Your mother, a formidable figure with an air of ancient wisdom, focuses her attention to Azriel. The expression on her face is a complex blend of skepticism and concern. Her dark eyes narrow as if probing his very soul–a look that has sent many to mad chaos and the room seems to hold its breath as Azriel meets her gaze. 

You step in between them both. “Mother, must you always do this?”

“It’s okay. I have nothing to hide,” Azriel reassures you as he holds your mother’s gaze, unwavering and resolute. “I would never dream of hurting y/n. I love her.”

“He speaks the truth, mother. He’d kill for her, I’ve seen–ow!”

Your mother’s keen eyes linger on him. Despite Thea’s words, she wants to see for herself. The room feels suspended in time as she carries on with probing into his very soul. She’s peering into the depths of his heart, seeping into its cracks and searching for any hint of insincerity. The tension in the room starts to dissipate as she must sense something she agrees with. Slowly, her lips gradually curve in a smile–a genuine one. 

“I like this one,” your mother says as she turns to you. “I shall spare you the part of my visit where I ask you to come back home with me as I now know it will be pointless. So let’s have dinner, hmm? All this excitement has me famished.”

Your mother clasps her hands together, springing the room into action. Binx resumes messing around with your father and Maeve makes her way to your kitchen, your mother following after her.

“I did not agree to you staying for dinner!” You call after them, shooting Azriel an apologetic look.

“She was going to agree anyway.” 

Azriel turns to your sister–the closest to a normal relative you seem to have. Her blue eyes, flecked with silver hold a spark of otherworldly wisdom as she regards him. 

“You can see the future?”

She tilts her head, a cascade of blonde curls falling over her shoulder. Her lips curl into a knowing smile and her peregryn wings flutter. “Only what the stars tell me,” she replies cryptically. “Would you like me to read your cards?”

Azriel contemplates for a moment. He turns toward the kitchen and his eyes find you. You’re engaged in a lively debate about the perfect amount of herbs, claiming that only a pinch of thyme is needed while Maeve stubbornly shakes her head.

“Out of my kitchen! Go seduce a pig for all I care before I hex you with an angry nest of bees!” 

His love for you deepens with every passing second and he nearly startles when he feels a flutter in his chest. It’s you. You echo the sentiment very loud and clear through your end of the bond.

“No.”

“Why not?” She teases, though she already knows the answer.

“Because right now, I have everything I could ever want.”

**

Once your family departs, relief washes over you, and you finally feel able to breathe freely. Leaning against the door, you release a sigh, allowing your eyes to flutter shut momentarily. When you reopen them, your gaze lands on Azriel in the living room. He's seated, head tilted back, eyes closed, weariness evident. Moving towards him, you saunter over, and without a word, he instinctively pulls you onto his lap, his eyes still shut in a shared moment of exhaustion and solace.

Your hands tenderly cradle his face, bathed in the soft glow of your green magic. You massage his temples, your fingertips tracing away the remnants of the headache your mother’s earlier probing had left behind. A contented sigh escapes him at your soothing touch. 

“Thank you,” he breathes and his hands find their place at your hips.

You press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “I should be the one thanking you.”

He opens his eyes and there’s a subtle perplexity among them. “How come?”

“Because they’re chaotic,” you answer and tipping your chin down sheepishly, you continue, “I’m sorry for shutting you out. I was doing my best to keep them from coming but I should’ve just told you instead. I was trying to protect you from all of this–”

A scarred finger props your chin up, urging you to look back up at him. The hand that remains at your hip tightens with a comforting reassurance. You find yourself lost in the depths of his beautiful hazel eyes and like always, they anchor you like a tranquil forest bathed in sunlight.

“You don’t have to protect me from this. I accept it–all of you. I love you,” he murmurs. The corner of his lips tug up into a small smile. “Though I do find you unbearingly adorable when you’re protective.”

“Adorable?” You can’t help but laugh. Others would beg to differ. You're sure your eyes have given Cassian nightmares.

“Especially when it’s all for me,” he nearly purrs, pressing kisses to the corner of your eyes. The very eyes he adores, even when they transform into inky pools of black.

He kisses the nape of your neck and your breath hitches. “Did you mean it?”

Azriel hums against your neck. “Mean what?”

“What you said to Thea earlier,” you say, mindlessly confessing that you had been listening to his short conversation with your sister. 

You feel him smile against you. “Of course I did. Whatever the future may bring, as long as I have you, that's enough for me. You’re my everything.”

When he pulls away to look at you, you’re beaming at him. His nose brushes against yours and your hands cup his face again, eyes flickering to his lips before you guide them to yours in a slow yet passionate kiss. You slide your tongue along the softness of his bottom lip, reveling in his honeyed taste and he parts his mouth for you, a small sound of pleasure slipping between your lips.

You kiss him and kiss him until the future seems like a distant thought, overshadowed by the perfection of the present.

a/n: I was driving to an appointment when I randomly thought of how chaotic reader's family is and wanted to introduce them formally in case I want to incorporate them in future imagines. This takes place shortly before the one where you get kidnapped.

Also, I'm currently watching the Witcher and I couldn't help myself and use this scene to help me write the part where Maeve tries to seduce Az.

tagging: @fxckmiup

[series masterlist]

[princesssmars]

hazel falling in love with her childhood family friend is rotting my brain actually.

wc : 1383

sfw and slight nsfw? fem reader. thanking emma and rachel for making hazel rich because i love writing rich people stuff. i’d say maybe a good mix of cocky!hazel and loser!hazel because i love both so bad.

so for the first six years of her life she spends her winter holidays at a beautiful chalet in aspen with her parents, spending the days having snowball fights with her dad and falling asleep by the fireplace with her mom.

just like. she's rich, and her mom seems like one of thos wealthy women who loves to go on vacation to show off her perfect life and her perfect friends, so she or her husband definitely had a vacation house they'd visit every year.

when she turns seven they finally let her start skiing on the bunny slope, figuring it’s better than the little evil genius thing she does with the pots and the tiny snowmen. for a little kid she's pretty good at the sport already, if not taking the pizza and french fry tip a little too seriously.

about an hour in though, she's taking her umpteenth trip down the hill when a four foot mass slams into her right side, going at way above whatever speed limit was allowed in this area. she's lying flat on the ground, her right arm aching and her hound pounding and she's about ten seconds from crying when she looks over to see you, face planted in the snow and your shoulders shaking as you laugh like you're insane.

both sets of your parents rush over to make sure that the both of you are ok, and after you manage to calm down a bit and give hazel a very formal sounding apology that your mom whispered in your ear, you ask hazel if she can help you learn to control your speed on the slopes.

so after an hour of driving her crazy as she tries to teach you how to control your speed, your moms sit at a table watching over the both of you while sipping on their drinks and becoming fast friends.

ever since then, each winter was spent together. whether it was spending time in the snow, (hazel continued to excel at skiing, eventually giving up on trying to teach you), sharing stories of your normal lives over cups of cocoa at the cafe in the ski lodge, and helping each other decorate your christmas trees that you both had to beg your parents to buy.

whenever she went back home the days following new years, she’d count the days until she could see you again. to compensate for the time apart your parents let you send a horde of letters and e-mails to each other, letting the two of you share long phone calls on their phones when you were still to young to have your own.

hazels secret favorite hobby became photography. you couldn’t go twenty minutes without her shoving her polaroid camera in your face. she’ll tell you it’s because she’s using the vacation time to explore and try new things, and not that she constantly looks back over the photos of you with a big smile and a flush to her face.

(she also won’t mention that she’s addicted to the feeling she gets when pj and josie come over to her house and pj goes ona ten minute rant about how impossible it is that a girl that pretty could spend time with hazel without being insane. she ignores the insult because she’s hung up on the fact oh called you pretty.)

now i think hazel was pretty much always aware of the fact that she liked girls, if not because she realized that being obsessed with a certain scene from cruel intentions and always volunteering to play the husband when one of her friends wanted to play house on the playground was, in fact, not straight.

but at this point she’s maybe fifteen, she’s starting to grow into her looks and she’s definitely not ready to admit she might has a crush on you. at this point you both have had your own phones for a while, and she couldn’t even count the amount of times she had fallen asleep with you over facetime.

over the course of that year she often found herself wondering what your sexuality was. dumb ass stereotypes had her believing there was no way you, pretty and popular and preppy you could possibly be gay. and if you were a lesbian there was no chance that you'd like her back.

it was just made all the more confusing when once she had complained about how she hadn't had a girlfriend, let alone a first kiss yet and she was nearly halfway through high school with no experience for the hundredth time that you told her you had a solution for her on your next shared trip.

so you can imagine her shock when three days after landing in aspen you pull her into your room in your lodge and sit her on your bed before telling her you knew the perfect way to get more experience was to experiment with you.

"your first few times kissing and stuff can be pretty awkward, so why not just do it with me? i can show you the ropes and stuff.”

now on the outside she seemed normal, agreeing with an easy smile on her face, but on the inside her brain was playing the loudest tornado siren known to man.

it starts tame, the first few days consisting of you just telling her about your past experiences with girls and how to take it slow and everything. she knows its important but it honestly feels like torture. every time you talk to her she's wondering about what you'll do to start the physical lesson, if you'll set her down on her plush bed and softly touch her, or if you'll finally get fed up with the waiting like she is and press her and take her against a wall.

if you had known you would have prepared, but hazel was a freak in disguise and had decided that she was ready to take things into her own hands. you had invited her to sleep over at yours and drink hot cocoa while watching christmas movies and she had accepted in a heartbeat. what she didn't expect was for you to be wearing really cute pajamas, your legs covered in little hello kitty's and christmas trees with a plain red top and geez she could see you weren't wearing a bra.

hazel was a ticking time bomb, and when the two of you were sitting on the couch and she watched the reds and whites and golds dance across your face and you looked ovver at her with a 'what's wrong, hazie?' she exploded, smushing her lips onto yours in a mess of limbs and teeth.

she can feel your giggles in her mouth as she presses you down into the plush of the couch, her excited hands gripping your cheeks before brushing over your chest and gripping your waist, grinding her hips into yours and groaning when your giggle turned into high pitched moans.

it feels like she kisses you for hours before you reluctantly stop, your hands going to press into her shoulders when her head follows yours to resume making out. "hazel, as much as i'm enjoying this we were supposed to be taking this slowly. since when did you know how to...do that?"

"i dont know i just," she sighs as she tries to catch her breath, starting to get embarrassed about what a virginal mess she must look and be acting like. but you seem to like it, so she starts to not care all that much. "i just really want you. i wanna do everything with you."

you smile and hold her cheek in your hand, her eyes fluttering shut at your touch. you look at the gentle expression on her face, the slowing of her breath, and how her hips still occasionally stutter downward looking for yours, and you cant find it in your heart to deny her. you never really could.

"ok, hazie. we can do whatever you want-"

you're cut off before you can finish, the girl quickly rejoining your lips together and groping at your body once again.

when she gets back from vacation, hazel is less single, less unexperienced, and more than ready to throw this in pj's face.

i kinda lost inspo for this can you tell :,(((( but i thought the idea was cute so take this thing. bye.

[pumpkinbxtch]

hey, ik requests are closed but if you could do this one, i'll be very grateful. just remember, if you don't want to, you don't have to.

i was thinking if post-trial apollo, meets the reader, after the trial (can the reader be a child of Hades? like a child of Hades would be so iconic), love at first sight (fuck, why is this so cliche 😭😭) and tries to spend more time with the reader. the reader is new to the entire camp thing, and is getting more used to it, and grows closer to Apollo. but he's like scared to admit he's in love bc he thinks, that just like all his past lovers, the reader would run away, or kill herself, or fall into deep trouble, but after some really had event in which he almost loses y/n, he goes all haywire, confessing everything and it becomes a cute, fluffy scene together

AGAIN ik you aren't taking in requests, so if you don't want to do it, it's totally fine. love so many of your fics btw ♥️♥️

i love you, isn't that the worst thing you've ever heard?

— apollo/lester x child of hades!reader

warnings: none a/n: Hello beautiful person. You're seeing this, now you know that I take your request and I want to say why and it's because you asked me so nice that I couldn't resist. I have corazón de pollo which is something like being very sensitive or being warm-hearted. Anyway, let me know if you liked it. I hope it was like that and thank you for reading me, for your support. ❤️ Kisses from Pluto! ha ha

Your legs settled back over Apollo’s knees, and he kept them in place with his hands, letting out a snort.

— You’re pretty comfortable with a god, aren’t you? — His pretentious tone just made you smile and shrug.

— You didn’t move my feet, did you? — you replied in the same tone, and he leaned against the cabin wall. It was true, and if it were up to him, he never would.

— Whatever…— he muttered, watching you lie back down, putting your attention back on a comic book Will Solace had lent you, saying it was based on one of his favorite movies, which made you interested in reading it. You thought you and Will weren’t that different, and you liked him but not in ‘that’ way, just as a friend. After all, Will was becoming part of the family with your brother Nico because they seemed to have something slowly brewing.

— How many times have you said I love you?— you asked out of the blue, still not taking your eyes off the comic. Apollo almost choked on his own saliva.

— What’s that about? — he said evasively. He didn’t want to talk about it because if he remembered correctly, all those times had ended badly. He tried to catch your eyes but found the glossy cover of the comic in the way.

You shrugged and turned the page, continuing with the same topic.

— I heard Nico say that to Will once when they thought I was out of our cabin, but I was just in the bathroom.

— Hmmm. And?

— Nothing, just that Nico doesn’t say it often. I’ve only heard him say it to his sister Bianca, his real sister. Also to Hazel, to me, and to Will.

Now Apollo understood but played dumb.

— I don’t know.

You tapped his thigh with your foot.

— Of course you do.

And obviously, he did, but stayed silent, hoping the comic would distract you enough.

— I think they’re falling in love — you stated, laughing at something you read. Apollo could never understand how demigods managed with ADHD; now, it just seemed like a curse.

— Well, I suppose.

His half-hearted responses annoyed you, and you put the comic down with a frown, and he apologized with his eyes.

— Have you fallen in love recently?

That question threw him off. Apollo gently moved your legs aside to sit on the edge of the bed with his heart racing and a pout on his face.

— Where are you going? — you asked, concerned, setting the comic aside and sitting next to him. Apollo smiled sheepishly. He didn’t like lying to you, but whenever you started guiding the conversation that way, he had to find a way to escape.

— I need to do something in olympus, they just told me.

You made a face and nodded. You never got involved in that; after all, he was a god.

In the end, Apollo sat moodily on his throne, watching time pass at Camp Half-Blood. Since his return as the sun god, things had changed in his heart, so he found himself more in that place despite what the gods said, which reminded him of when he met you.

You had recently arrived and caught attention for reaching an age where any demigod would have died, but shortly after, if not the same day, everyone knew you weren’t just any demigod. You were a child of Hades. Of course, the most delighted with this was Nico, who welcomed you and made sure you were never alone.

Things were fresh, so Apollo ended up in your close circle until it became very close. If Apollo was at Camp Half-Blood, you were with him, and it didn’t take long for him to fall in love with you, though you hadn’t realized it yet.

You felt safe growing up by his side; no one would mess with you since you were a child of the big three and a close friend of a god. Some fools judged you for your company, but they were afraid to approach when you were – according to Apollo – an adorable person.

The god watched through the fire as you thrived in camp after his unexpected departure, and to him, you were doing too well, though some things were too good for his liking, and he couldn’t deny it; you were charming in more than one way, which obviously attracted campers like Harley, that son of Hephaestus who sometimes gave you cute things like that pomegranate made of metal leaves. A gift that seemed very familiar when he saw Leo flirting with Calypso.

Leo flirting with Calypso.

Leo flirting.

The god stood up and admired the scene closely. Harley had blushed cheeks while giving you the gift, and you smiled gratefully. No way, he knew the sons of Hephaestus were bold, but he never imagined someone would be so obvious with you due to your lack of understanding of indirect hints. They approached but never that close, and he should have guessed, but also, he wasn’t one to get angry.

You received the gift and admired it closely, but only thanked him briefly, which seemed enough proof of your affection to the son of Hephaestus, something Apollo obviously loathed as well as keeping him awake the rest of the night.

He didn't know why (well he did) but the god ended sitting at the dining pavilion, his nails digging into the table.

— Everything okay? — Your voice snapped him out of his trance, and he smiled. You always seemed to have a radar for when he was near.

— Will fell in love with Nico, and Nico with him. Do you think they both realized it or just one?— His question took you by surprise, and more than making you think twice, it excited you that he finally answered that kind of question since he always seemed to have a repulsion to them.

You sat beside him, and Apollo gave you a sweet look, waiting for your answer.

— Maybe Nico and Will know, but Will could be waiting for Nico to give clear signals about it.

— Maybe Nico is scared.

— Does he think Will isn’t?

You both fell silent. It was clear; it was in the air, you weren’t really talking about your brother and Will.

— What’s the worst thing he could say to Will? — you asked, your hand reaching for Apollo’s to intertwine your fingers. The blonde swallowed and suddenly felt breathless.

— I don’t know, but I can think of something.

Apollo made a face and turned a little more towards you, his cheeks red and his eyes shiny. He was afraid of hurting you, of things not working out as they did with his previous lovers; he could never afford to make you suffer when he already knew the degree of consequence it would have in his life, but beyond his good or bad karma, he cared about you. He loved you enough never to try to have you.

Your patience was reaching its limit, and although the son of Hephaestus was cute, sweet, a good match… your heart belonged to someone since the first moment you saw him.

—Apollo… —your voice called him with a bit of seriousness, a peculiar tone that made the god realize his time for redundancies was over.

— I love you, isn’t that the worst I could say?

Your eyes widened with hope, and you moved a little closer to him, bumping knees.

— From Nico to Will? — you asked, not wanting to humiliate yourself.

Apollo’s blue eyes examined you suspiciously. The responsibility would fall on him; he was never the best at hiding his feelings, but if your happiness depended on it, the first moment he saw your life in danger, he wouldn’t hesitate to disappear from it. For now, a confession was something very innocent.

The sun god turned to you with a bit more evident confidence and didn’t let go of your hand; instead, he kissed it.

— No. From me to you…