#he stops mid sentence. soul leaving his body.

[foxilayde]

Sucking off Leto Atreides under the table during a war council meeting if you even care

[soulofapatrick]

“Patience, love.” - Azriel x female reader

Summary: Azriel gets home from being away and has even more work to do before he can tend to you

Words: 3.2K

Warnings: Smut; cockwarming

Notes: Two Azriel stories in one day?!

Y/N's POV

I sit with Nesta and Cassian in the cozy living room of the House of Wind, the warm glow of the fire crackling in the hearth casting flickering shadows along the walls. Nesta’s sharp wit and Cassian’s booming laughter fill the space, their playful banter about training sessions and Illyrian wingspans enough to keep me entertained—for the most part.

But even as I smile along with them, my mind is elsewhere, thoughts drifting to him. To Azriel. It’s been days since I’ve seen him, his absence leaving a hollow ache in my chest. I’m just about to add something to Nesta’s argument when I feel it—soft at first, like the brush of a feather. Then, stronger. A pull. A familiar, soul-deep tug on the bond that links me to him, wrapping itself around my heart with a tender, insistent pulse. Azriel.

I sit up a little straighter, the change in me instantaneous. It's like a jolt of life surges through me, a spark that had been dulled in his absence now reigniting with full force. My heart skips a beat, joy swelling so suddenly inside me that I can’t stop the bright, eager smile that stretches across my face. The world seems to sharpen, colours brighter, sounds clearer, as if everything in the room has come into focus with that single, unmistakable tug. He’s home.

Cassian’s eyes catch mine, the knowing look in them unmistakable. He’s seen this before. I don’t even need to say it—he knows. He leans back, crossing his arms with a teasing smirk as if to say, Go on, then. Nesta pauses mid-sentence, her expression confused as she glances between us.

I can barely sit still, the urge to move, to find him, overwhelming. “I—” I stammer, already rising from my seat. “I need to go.” My voice is breathless, and I can feel the flush rising in my cheeks, the warmth of excitement spreading through my entire body.

Nesta arches a brow, clearly about to ask why I’m leaving so suddenly, but I’m too far gone, my mind entirely focused on the one person I need to see. “Sorry!” I call over my shoulder as I dash from the room, leaving the half-finished conversation behind. I can feel Nesta’s confusion lingering in the air, but it doesn’t matter—not when he’s home.

My feet pound against the floor as I rush down the hall, my heart thudding in sync with the bond’s steady pull. The corridors of the House blur around me as I pick up my pace, the excitement bubbling inside me, spilling over. Every step brings me closer to him—closer to Azriel.

I can almost feel his presence now, that comforting, grounding sensation that only he brings, and a desperate need blooms in my chest. I need to see him, feel his arms around me, the cool touch of his shadows curling around my skin. I can barely breathe with how badly I want him right now.

Rounding the corner, I nearly skid to a halt in front of our door, my breath coming fast, my fingers trembling as they close around the handle. Azriel’s home—the thought pounds through my veins, dizzying me with anticipation, and I push the door open, stepping into the room where I know he waits.

As I step into the room, my breath catches in my throat at the sight of him. Azriel is seated at his desk, the soft glow of the lamp casting warm light over the planes of his face, making him look almost ethereal. He looks up as the door clicks shut behind me, and the second our eyes meet, a soft smile tugs at his lips—those rare dimples appearing, the ones that never fail to send my heart racing.

His hazel eyes, a swirl of green and gold, brighten at the sight of me, that unreadable mask he so often wears slipping just enough for me to see the affection there. His dark hair, tousled from the day, falls slightly into his face, and he brushes it aside with a scarred hand. The elegant planes of his face are impossibly beautiful, his golden-brown skin glowing in the dim light. Broad shoulders and powerful muscles, shaped by centuries of Illyrian training, are framed by his massive wings, their black membranes stretching behind him. He looks like a warrior, a king—yet, in this moment, he is simply mine.

Azriel shuffles his chair back without a word, the soft sound of the wood scraping the floor echoing in the silence between us. His eyes never leave mine, and with that same gentle smile, he opens his arms slightly in invitation. It’s all I need. I cross the room in a few quick strides, my body practically vibrating with the need to feel him, to touch him after so many days apart.

Without hesitation, I straddle his lap, feeling his strong thighs beneath me, his scarred hands immediately gripping my hips to steady me as I settle against him. I giggle, breathless, and his smile widens, a soft laugh escaping his lips—a sound I rarely hear, but one that fills me with warmth. His fingers dig into my hips just enough to keep me from falling off the chair, and I feel the tension drain from my body the moment his warmth seeps into me.

"Careful," he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, his breath fanning across my skin. And then, he pulls me closer, drawing me into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around me as if he never wants to let go. He buries his face in the crook of my neck, breathing me in, his nose brushing against my skin as his wings curl slightly inward, forming a protective cocoon around us.

I melt into him, my hands sliding up his strong shoulders and into his hair as I cling to him. For a moment, we stay like this—wrapped in each other, feeling the bond between us hum with contentment, with home. But then, his lips move against my neck, the faintest brush of his mouth against my skin, and my breath hitches. Slowly, he lifts his head, his eyes darkened with something deeper now, and before I can say a word, he kisses me.

The moment our lips meet, everything else fades away. His kiss is soft at first, gentle, like he’s savouring the taste of me after being apart for so long. I can taste the faint hint of mint on his lips, feel the warmth of him seeping into me, the smooth press of his lips against mine as they move slowly, sweetly. His hands slide up my back, pulling me impossibly closer, and I can feel the steady beat of his heart beneath my chest, grounding me in this moment.

But the kiss shifts. Slowly at first, then with a growing urgency. The bond between us tightens, a sharp pull, and suddenly, I’m not just kissing him—I’m devouring him. I grip his hair tighter, my nails scraping lightly against his scalp as I deepen the kiss, feeling his responding growl vibrate through my chest. Azriel’s hands tighten their grip on my hips, pulling me flush against him, and I feel the heat of him, the strength of his body beneath me. My heart races, and all the want and need I’ve been holding back during his absence surges forward in a tidal wave of longing.

His tongue brushes against mine, and the taste of him—so familiar, so intoxicating—makes me dizzy. The kiss becomes desperate, consuming, the bond between us sparking like wildfire, reigniting that primal pull I feel whenever I’m near him. I need him now. The warmth in my chest turns into a burning ache, and my hands slip down to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as I press myself even closer, as though I can’t get enough of him.

He growls softly against my lips, his wings flaring behind him as the bond crackles between us, both of us teetering on the edge of control. Azriel breaks the kiss just long enough to meet my gaze, his hazel eyes now dark with desire. His voice is rough when he speaks, barely a whisper. “I missed you.”

Before I can respond, his lips crash into mine again, harder this time, the kiss filled with all the pent-up need, the longing, the hunger. The bond pulses, wild and insistent, and I can feel the desire coil low in my belly, a deep, aching need that only he can fill. I need him now—no, I need him now, the mating bond pulling us both into a frenzy of want, of overwhelming, all-consuming need.

Without a word, one hand finds my panties, fingers finding their way to my already wet core, a proud smirk gracing that beautiful face, “All for me?” 

I’m nodding almost so hard I’m sure I’ll get whiplash, an ache deep inside of me needing Azriel now.  My hips jerk down, trying to get him to sleep one into my aching heat but he clicks his tongue softly, his scarred fingers exploring, tracing a line from my extract up to my clit, spreading my ever-growing arousal. He moves a hand up to my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze when he draws a tight circle over my clit, watching the way my breath catching in my throat and my brain seems to turn to mush. 

Azriel. Need. Need now. Azriel. Az-

Before I can finish the thought, his voice cuts through the haze of desire clouding my mind, sharp and teasing, yet so achingly calm. “Now now, I still have work to do before we can play.”

His words snap like a whip, jerking me out of the intoxicating fog of want, and I freeze, the fire in my veins suddenly roaring hotter, fiercer. I pull back just enough to meet his eyes, my breath ragged and shallow, my pulse thundering in my ears. He’s smiling—smirking—as if he doesn’t feel the same sharp, clawing need that’s twisting inside me.

I can feel the heat pooling low in my belly, my skin buzzing, a desperate ache between my thighs that makes it hard to think, hard to breathe. The bond pulses violently with my desire, a tidal wave of need that crashes into him, and I know—I know—he can feel it. The raw hunger, the gnawing need to be closer, to tear down the walls of restraint he’s so carefully built between us. But his words hang in the air, like cold water dousing the inferno inside me.

I bare my teeth, frustration bubbling over as a low growl rumbles from my chest. Anguish grips me, a burning, agonising frustration that has me trembling in his lap. I can’t stand it—the thought of being denied him, even for a moment longer. My hands tighten their grip on his shoulders, fingers digging into the hard muscle beneath his shirt as I press myself closer, my body desperate for the touch of his skin, the feel of him inside me.

“Azriel,” I hiss, the plea tangled with raw need, my voice almost unrecognisable. “I can’t—” I can’t finish the sentence, too overwhelmed, too consumed by the sharp, aching pull of the bond, the primal need coursing through me like a live wire. My entire body is screaming for him, and the restraint he’s showing, the patience in his voice, only fans the flames of my frustration.

But he just chuckles. That low, rumbling sound of amusement spilling from his lips, as if my need, my desperation, is nothing more than a game to him. It ignites something in me, the flicker of anger sharpening my need into something almost unbearable. His eyes—those beautiful hazel eyes, darkened with lust—gleam with equal want, with the same hunger I feel. But beneath it, there’s control. A maddening, ironclad self-restraint that makes his jaw click as he holds back

His hands go back to my hips, resting firmly on them, his grip tightening just enough that I can feel the tension coiling in his muscles, the barely-contained desire pulsing through him. His wings twitch behind him, his body taut with the effort to hold himself in check. I can see it—the way his eyes darken with every breath I take, the way his gaze drops to my lips, lingering there as though he’s seconds away from devouring me.

He wants this. He wants me, just as badly, just as fiercely—but he’s holding back, holding himself at bay with that damnable, infuriating control. His teeth grind together, his jaw clenching as he restrains the need that’s clearly mirrored in my own. The way his hands tighten on my hips, the way his wings flex—it all tells me he’s fighting against the same pull, the same hunger.

“Azriel,” I growl again, my voice rough and edged with desperation. I lean in, pressing my lips to his ear, my breath hot against his skin. “You’re killing me.”

He chuckles again, but it’s strained now, his control wavering for just a heartbeat. His voice is rougher this time, the tension evident as he murmurs, “Patience, love.”

But patience is the last thing I have. I can feel the bond vibrating between us, the wild, untamed magic of it pulling us both into the whirlwind of lust and need. It’s a cruel thing, to feel the burning want in every fibre of my being and know he’s holding himself back from giving in, from letting go. And it’s driving me mad.

His eyes flicker with something dark and dangerous as he watches the frustration in my gaze, the primal need that has me trembling in his lap. His jaw ticks again, that battle for control raging within him, and I can see it—the moment he almost breaks, the moment the restraint frays and the want claws its way to the surface.

And gods, I want him to break. 

“Stand up.” He suddenly demands and I find myself doing so, watching, practically drooling as he sheds some of his armour. My thighs clenching together as his hands move to his belt, unbuckling it, fingers pulling the zipper of his pants down and I’m swallowing hard at the tent. 

How big he is never fails to make me worry that he won’t fit me despite us being made for each other. Azriel’s glancing up at me as he frees himself, stroking a hand up and down his weeping length and I can’t decide what I want in me more. Those deft fingers or his throbbing dick, both making me almost fall to my knees in front of him from wanting something. Anything.

“Sit.” Azriel’s voice is choked and rough as he reaches forwards and grips my hips, helping me straddle his waist again. My thighs feel shaky already as he lines himself up for me to sink down easily, our bodies molding to each others like they had never been apart before.I go to raise myself up, desperate to move, to ease the overwhelming tension pulsing through my body, but Azriel’s low, deep growl reverberates through his chest, rumbling against my skin. His scarred hands tighten their grip on my hips, stilling me with a firm, unyielding hold. “Patience, love,” he murmurs, his voice a silken warning, his restraint absolute.

“Az—” I begin, but his name falls short, caught in my throat, the word turning into a helpless sigh.

Oh, angel. This man is going to be the fucking death of me.

I know I make a muffled sound of anguish, my lips pressing against his shoulder, my body trembling from how close I am to what I so desperately need. But he won’t let me move. He won’t. Despite being buried inside me, to the absolute hilt, filling me fuller than I ever thought possible, he keeps me still, locked in place, holding back the release we both crave.

My nails dig into the hard muscles of his shoulders, almost painfully, as I fight the primal instinct to rock my hips, to seek that friction I so desperately need. But Azriel—damn him—keeps me pinned against him, his grip firm, unyielding. Every muscle in my body is taut with the tension of it, the ache between my legs a sharp, throbbing pulse that borders on torture.

I burrow my face into the crook of his neck, desperate for some form of release, and without thinking, I bite down on the soft skin there—almost too hard. His breath hitches, sharp and sudden, his body going rigid beneath me for a moment, and I feel a dark sense of satisfaction knowing I got a reaction out of him. His jaw clenches, the want flaring hot in his eyes, but he doesn’t give in.

Instead, his hand leaves my hip, moving slowly, deliberately, to card through my hair. His fingers tangle in the strands, a soft, rhythmic motion that sends an unexpected wave of calm washing over me. I hadn’t realised how badly I needed that gentle touch in the midst of all this aching, burning need. His thumb brushes the side of my temple, and despite the insistent pulse between my thighs, the raw desire clawing at my every nerve, I feel a strange, soothing warmth spread through me.

His hand strokes through my hair again, and again. It’s maddening, the way he can have me teetering on the edge of ecstasy and still manage to lull me into this state of almost… blissful surrender. As if his touch alone could make me forget the ache in my body, the way he’s buried so deep inside me yet keeping me utterly still, trapped in this agonising limbo.

I bite him again, though softer this time, trying to fight the pull of drowsiness creeping up on me. But Azriel’s hand continues to pet my hair, his voice a low murmur of comfort I can barely make out over the sound of my own ragged breaths. Somehow, impossibly, the gentle motion is lulling me, sending me into a state of slumber despite the sharp ache between my legs, the unfulfilled need twisting deep inside me.

I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to drift away. But I can feel my body surrendering, my eyelids growing heavier with every soft stroke of his fingers. It’s as if my exhaustion is finally catching up with me, and though the desperation still burns hot in my veins, I know he won’t leave me like this for long.

Azriel’s hand stills for a moment, his lips brushing against the crown of my head as he whispers, “Rest, love. I’ll wake you when I’m ready.”

When he’s ready. The thought should frustrate me, should make me want to push away, to demand more—but there’s something in the way he says it. A promise. And I know—I know—that when he’s ready, he’ll give me everything. Everything we both need.

So I let myself drift, trusting him to wake me when the time comes, trusting him to fulfill that promise. The ache is still there, pulsing between my thighs, but for now… for now, I let the exhaustion win.

ACOTAR Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

[4acoffee]

another snippet of the jy fic i cooked up in like an hour,,, lowkey made myself uncomfortable w this one LMAO but chat i gotta lock in so bad it's not even funny I have software homework due by 11:30 am tomorrow morning why am i like th- *gets hit by bus*

Abruptly, you feel a subtle shift in his mood, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him reach out his hand with an strange calm and graze your wrist.

You freeze mid-sentence, lecture faltering as the sensation of his touch lingers. His fingers travel up your arm, slow and deliberate -barely a brush, but far too intimate and bold to be done in public, - more than enough to set off a plethora of alarm bells inside your head.

You go to brush him off and take a much needed step back to continue your scolding, sharp words already forming quick and furious in your mouth.

When he suddenly, absolutely unashamedly, catches the frilly sleeve of your dress and swiftly tugs it down, dangerously low on your shoulder, baring the soft curve of your skin to the morning chill.

Your hand goes stock still in the air where you meant to stop him, the reprimand dying on your lips as your startled gaze locks with murky amber, piercing in a way that's still awfully unfamiliar to you.

His grin is wicked, unrepentant, stretching across his face with mischief.

The situation is damning. You're stuck gaping up at him like a fool, eyes wide and staring in disbelief that he would do such a thing, - not only because it was completely inappropriate, but you are also more then certain a handful of Cloud Knights were closely watching his every move from the training grounds.

Your stomach drops, and you truly believe you feel your soul try to leave your body entirely at the thought of them witnessing this whole exchange, such an ill-timed display of inappropriate familiarity in front of so many people.

An extermely undignified noise of shame and exasperation leaves you before you can stop it, and you hastily jerk the sleeve back up your exposed shoulder, your fingers fumbling slightly in your embarrassment.

But his eyes don’t leave you, still locked on you with an intensity that’s almost suffocating in a way that has you reeling, unable to shake the lingering effect of his touch.

"You can't just do things like that Jing Yuan!" You sputter out pathetically, voice low, hushed, - all too aware of the shuffling of soldiers behind you, growing a little more mortified when you realize they are noticeably more silent now than they were a moment ago. "You're perverted!" you hiss, nails digging into your palm to quell your shame.

He grins, eyeing you in some terrible way that makes your fingertips tremble and ears go hot. There's not a hint of remorse in his expression, - that infuriating grin only widens enough for you to see the white of his teeth, and his gaze shifts to something dangerous, nearly cruel in its predatory curiosity, - like your discomfort is the most amusing thing he's seen all day.

(You again wonder what happened to the sweet, charming boy you remember so fondly from your youth. You could never have imagined he would grow up to make you feel so small.)

"I know." he says, voice low and teasing, the words wrapping around you like a noose, tightening like a promise.

He leans in, so uncomfortably close it has you desperately trying to back away, but he quickly stops you with firm arm around your waist, pulling you with so much force your feet nearly leave the ground until you are tucked under his chin so he can whisper into your ear.

“I know exactly what I’m doing.”

masterlist

[aesthetically-dying101]

Law of Attraction (Part 4)

A/N: i tried to make a bit of humor, it'll get serious again (tears will be shed) reader is just sad trying to 'fake it till you make it', making a lot of jokes to her own expense,which nanami doesnt get

(if u saw this post already, no u didn't, i had to reformat it, sorry)

Other parts: Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 5;

also this image is so silly i love it:

You and Nanami had fallen back into the rhythm of working, the quiet hum of focus filling the room, when—

BAM!

The door to your dorm apartment burst open with all the subtlety of a freight train, and Aiko—your best friend, your partner in crime—stormed in like a whirlwind. She was a colorful mess, of course, all highlighter pink and neon green with a side of attitude. Her gyaru style was loud, as always-like her.

"Oh my god, did you see the snow—?" she started, arms flailing dramatically as she stepped inside. But then she froze mid-sentence, her eyes landing on Nanami.

His stiff, formal posture, the way he was perched on your mismatched couch, scribbling notes... it was so not Aiko's scene. She blinked twice, one eyebrow creeping up her forehead.

"Oh?"

You recognized that look. Your stomach dropped.

"Aiko, don't you dare—" You were already getting up from your seat, but it was too late.

Without a second thought, Aiko's grin stretched wide.

"Use protection!" she shouted, completely oblivious to the death stare you were sending her way.

Before you could do anything, she whipped out a condom from her pocket—yes, a condom—and threw it at you with expert precision, like a damn grenade-who keeps a condom in her pocket???

It landed with a soft plop on the table between you and Nanami. You could almost hear the smirk in her voice as she yelled over her shoulder, "Take care of yourself, girl!"

And just as quickly, she slammed the door behind her, her laughter echoing down the hallway as she ran off, clearly on some mission to ruin your life.

You sat there, frozen, staring at the little condom package like it was about to come to life, grow little legs and start making its own bad decisions.

"Oh my god," you muttered under your breath, your face turning as red as Aiko's hair. "I'm so sorry."

Nanami hadn't moved an inch.

Of course, he hadn't. He was probably in shock, trying to process the fact that the girl he was partnered with in law class had a friend who was insane enough to throw a condom at her in front of him-for a fleeting moment, you wondered if maybe he was shocked because he was one of those guys. Maybe he was a virgin-nah, not with that sharp of a jawline.

"Right," you continued, trying to salvage what little dignity you had left. "That's just... Aiko being Aiko. Please, just forget that happened."

You glanced at him, expecting—no, hoping—he was going to ignore it, maybe pretend it didn't happen. But no, instead, he stared at the condom for a solid few seconds, his lips tight in the most unreadable expression you'd ever seen.

"...Interesting choice of timing," he muttered, a slight glint of amusement flickering in his eyes.

You swore you could feel your soul leaving your body. "I swear, I'm not like this. She just—she's my best friend, and she's insane. That was... absolutely ridiculous."

Nanami didn't say anything for a moment, but there was something about his quiet demeanor that made you feel even more self-conscious. You quickly grabbed the condom, throwing it into a nearby drawer like it might burn you if you held it too long.

"Anyway..." You cleared your throat, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you. "Let's just... get back to work."

You prayed that this would be the last awkward thing to happen for the next few hours.

Spoiler: It wasn't.

*-*

A little while you checked the time- 7 pm!! And the snow hadn't stopped, like at all, so he definitely be staying the night.

"Um..Nanami no offense, but i need a break, we've been at it for a while."

Nanami looked up from the document he had been reading, blinked once- you felt the heat rise up your neck. 

"Of course," he said finally, his tone as calm and even as ever. He leaned back in the chair, adjusting his tie like he was sitting in some upscale office and not your tiny dorm apartment covered in band posters and mismatched fairy lights. "A break makes sense."

"Cool." You tried not to sound too relieved. "Uh, tea? Coffee? I've got snacks somewhere, I think. Or ramen, if you're feeling fancy. Pizza that I bought yesterday? I also got some apples and banana's-"

Nanami tilted his head slightly, processing your rambling list of options like you were offering him a five-course menu instead of the odds and ends in your dorm.

"Tea would be fine. Thank you."

"Right. Tea. Coming right up," you said, a little too brightly, practically launching yourself toward the tiny kitchenette in the corner.

You busied yourself with the kettle, hyperaware of every movement. Nanami was still sitting at your desk, impeccably straight-backed as if he were sitting in some boardroom and not in your dorm that screamed chaotic individuality. You could feel his presence without even looking.

It was unsettling.

"Uh... do you like green tea? Or I have chamomile. Or Earl Grey, which is... fancy, I guess?" You called over your shoulder, fumbling with the cupboard door.

"Earl Grey is fine."

Of course, Earl Grey.

Because he's Nanami Kento, and Nanami Kento probably drinks Earl Grey while reading 18th-century legal texts for fun.

You huffed a laugh to yourself, setting the kettle on to boil.

By the time you handed him the steaming mug, the snow outside had gotten worse—thick, heavy flakes swirling under the dim streetlights. You glanced at the window, chewing the inside of your cheek.

"So, uh..." you started, awkwardly gesturing at the storm. "You're definitely not walking home in that."

Nanami followed your gaze, taking a measured sip of tea. "It does seem... unlikely."

Unlikely. Yeah, okay. Let's call it unlikely and not 'you'd freeze to death in two minutes flat.'

You nodded, rocking on your heels. "Right. So, uh, I guess you're staying here? Not like there's much choice. Unless you wanna camp out in the hallway, which—spoiler—gets super creepy at night. I swear the janitor has a vendetta against me for spilling coffee that one time."

He blinked at you, then set his mug down. "I don't mind staying, as long as it's not an inconvenience for you."

"Oh! No. Totally fine. It's fine. I mean, I've got an air mattress somewhere... I think." You scratched the back of your neck, already regretting every word out of your mouth. You knew for a fact you didn't have an air mattress.

The last one was popped by Aiko and her wonderful nails.

There was an awkward silence as you hovered, unsure what to do next. Finally, you blurted out, "Wanna... watch a movie or something?- I've got the Grinch if you want-"

"A movie," he repeated, his tone flat but not dismissive. "I suppose that could be... acceptable."

Act normal, act normal, act normal.

"So," you began, trying to fill the awkward silence, "do you actually like Christmas movies, or are you just humoring me because we're snowed in and you're stuck here?"

"Humoring you," he said smoothly, taking another sip of tea.

Your head snapped up, eyes wide, genuine fear and shame written all over your face. 

"I'm kidding," he added, his lips curving into the faintest hint of a smirk.

Was that... a joke? Did Nanami just joke with you? You stared at him like he'd grown a second head, fumbling the DVD case in your hands. "Okay, who are you, and what have you done with Kento Nanami?"

He raised an eyebrow, unbothered by your dramatics. "I'm not entirely humorless, despite what you might think."

"Could've fooled me," you muttered, popping the DVD into the player.

When the movie started, you realized two things:

1:You had zero chill. 

2:Nanami was entirely too composed for someone trapped in your dorm with you.

You almost wanted to walk outside into that blizzard, so save yourself the embarrassment.

You grabbed the nearest blanket and wrapped it around yourself like some kind of armor, sitting cross-legged on the far corner of the couch. He stayed at the desk at first, sipping his tea, but eventually—after what felt like hours—he moved to sit on the other end of the couch.

You stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge how close he was.

"Uh, if you're cold or something, I've got more blankets," you offered, barely glancing at him (hello kitty or horror themed, take your pick people).

"I'm fine, thank you," he replied, perfectly polite as always.

Of course you are, you thought. You're probably immune to the elements.

Halfway through the movie, you couldn't take it anymore. Your nerves were on edge, and the awkwardness of sitting in silence was unbearable.

"You know what? I need a drink. Do you drink? Or is alcohol against the Nanami code of conduct?"

He looked over at you, mildly amused. "I drink, on occasion."

"Oh, good. 'Cause I have, like... three beers and some cheap wine. Classy, right?" You pushed yourself off the couch and opened the mini fridge, pulling out two cans of beer. "Pick your poison."

Nanami took one without comment, his fingers brushing yours for a split second-oh god you were about to combust what the fuck. You tried not to let your brain spiral at the brief contact.

You plopped back down on the couch, cracking your can open and taking a long sip. "So," you said after a moment, "what's it like being the most put-together person on the planet?"

Nanami tilted his head slightly, considering the question. "I wouldn't describe myself that way."

"Sure," you drawled. "And I wouldn't describe myself as a walking disaster. But here we are."

He actually chuckled at that—a soft, low sound that made you glance at him in surprise.

"See?" you said, pointing your can at him. "You have a sense of humor after all."

"I never said I didn't," he countered, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "And you're not."

"Not what-"

"A walking disaster."

Oh that fucker.

*-*

A couple of hours later, and you were definitely tipsy.

Not that you'd admit it out loud. But it was hard not to feel a little loose when you'd finished that second beer and then polished off most of the cheap wine. You didn't usually drink this much. But Nanami had this... effect on you. This thing where he made everything feel so... calm. So controlled. Meanwhile, you were pretty sure your brain was starting to melt.

"Did you know," you said suddenly, slurring your words just a bit, "that the Grinch is basically a metaphor for social anxiety?"

Nanami blinked at you, mildly confused. "I'm not sure that's what the movie's about."

"Oh, please," you waved your hand like it was obvious. "The dude literally isolates himself, doesn't want to deal with anyone, and then—bam! He's forced to interact with people."

He paused, considering it. "You might be onto something."

You grinned, proud of yourself for impressing him with your insightful analysis of a holiday movie. "See? I'm not just a disaster. I'm a philosopher."

"Right," Nanami said, his lips twitching in that subtle way that made you want to both laugh and melt into a puddle. "A philosopher with very questionable taste in movies."

"Hey!" You leaned forward, narrowing your eyes at him dramatically. "The Grinch is a classic, okay? Don't insult it."

"I'm not insulting it. I'm just stating facts," he said, leaning back in his chair, looking entirely too comfortable while you were clearly losing the battle against your own brain.

You leaned back on the couch, arms spread wide as you stared at the ceiling, eyes half-lidded, completely changing the subject. "I don't know, man," you slurred slightly, "I think being an idiot is my superpower. I just do it so well. People should pay me for this kind of expertise."

 Nanami, who'd been sipping his beer quietly for most of the evening, looked at you with an expression that was so damn serious you almost choked on your own laugh. 

"I don't think you're an idiot." 

 You snorted, eyes widening as you realized what he'd said. "Oh please. I'm the worst. I'm like, the embodiment of bad decisions. It's like I was born with a talent for making things awkward."

 He paused, putting his drink down carefully, staring at you. His usual controlled, even-keeled gaze was softer now, his lips just barely twitching.

"You've done more than just fine on the project. I've seen the work you've submitted. Perfectly organized, well-researched—nothing about that seems idiotic." 

 Your breath caught in your throat. Wait. What? You blinked at him, brain scrambling for a response, but none came. Instead, you felt a deep, fiery heat crawl up your neck, and before you could stop yourself, your face turned bright red. 

 "W-What?" You could barely choke out the word. "Perfectly organized? Don't make me laugh. My notes look like a tornado hit them." 

You waved your hands around, trying to distract him from your flaming face. He tilted his head, the faintest glint of confusion flickering in his eyes.

"I'm not joking. It's all perfectly done. You've really put effort into this. I can see it."

 The room felt too small. Too hot. You should've said something clever, something to deflect, but instead you just stared at him like a deer caught in headlights.Finally, Nanami's lips twitched into a smile, not quite a grin, but still undeniably amused. 

"I didn't think you'd react like this to a compliment." 

 "...Thanks," you muttered, barely able to look him in the eye. Your face turned even redder, and you buried your face in your hands, desperate to hide. "Okay, stop. Please. I'm literally dying over here." 

 "You're not dying. You're blushing," he teased, his voice light, but still holding a certain warmth. Tipsy. 

But he wasn't letting up. He leaned back, casually adjusting his tie, and gave you a look—one that made your stomach flip. "Well, you've got this thing about you. I don't think I've met anyone quite like you before."

That made you pause. You looked at him through the haze of embarrassment, trying to gauge if he was just being nice or if there was something more to what he was saying.

"What, like a freak?"

"No," Nanami said quickly, shaking his head. "I didn't mean it like that." He shifted in his seat, suddenly more serious, and his eyes softened, almost like he was searching for the right words. "You're... unique. And that's not a bad thing. It's a good thing."

"Uh-huh." You raised an eyebrow, still unconvinced. "Well, you sure know how to make a girl feel like she's actually worth something, don't you?" You said it sarcastically, but there was a nervousness underneath, a weird hope.

Nanami looked at you for a moment, his gaze softer than you were used to.

"I'm serious," he said, the words coming out slower now, as if he was choosing them with care. "You're smart. You've worked hard. People like that are... rare."

You could feel your heart beating faster. Did he just call me rare?

"I don't know about all that," you said, forcing a laugh, but it didn't come out as smoothly as you'd hoped. "I mean, if I'm rare, I'm like that weird fruit you find at the back of the grocery store that nobody wants to touch."

"Maybe," Nanami said, the corner of his mouth lifting just a bit. "But if I had to choose, I'd pick that weird fruit over the ones everyone else grabs."

Oh, God, stop. You're going to die. You buried your face in your hands again, but this time, you felt a slight warmth inside you, something unfamiliar but welcome. 

*-*

Hours had passed, and you both were definitely tipsy now. Nanami had even undone his tie—he must've been feeling some kind of way, right? You couldn't help but notice how he absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair, and—okay, you definitely didn't stare at his hand a little too long, admiring the way his fingers moved.

Nope. Not at all.

You took a swig of your drink, hoping to drown the thought and focus on anything else. But of course, that wasn't happening.

"So," you slurred, trying to sound casual but failing miserably, "I still don't get it. There's no way you're just... perfect. Like, seriously. No one's perfect. You must have some insane kinks or something to make up for all this... perfection."

It was the alcohol talking, definitely. You didn't actually expect him to—oh god, what the hell was wrong with you?

Nanami's eyes widened as he sputtered into his drink, clearly choking on his sip. You blinked at him, suddenly realizing what you'd just said. Wait... Did I just casually imply he's got some weird fetishes?

He coughed, setting the glass down with an audible clink. "I—I'm not sure what you mean by that," he stammered, a rare crack in his usual composure.

Oh, hell yeah. That was the reaction you'd been waiting for. Your eyebrows shot up as your brain immediately jumped to conclusions.

"Oh my god," you said with a mock gasp. "You do have something weird, don't you? I knew it. I knew you were hiding some wild side." You giggled, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks but pushing it down with another sip.

Nanami cleared his throat, suddenly looking anywhere but at you. "I—I'm not sure I follow." He was stuttering. Perfect, calm Nanami Kento was stuttering. You could barely suppress the grin that tugged at the corners of your lips.

"You're just so... perfect," you said, trying to drag out the word as you grinned mischievously. "And I refuse to believe it. So spill it. You're into, like, bondage, a sensei kink?- or... I don't know, something, right?"

The moment the words left your mouth, you could see the change in him. His face had gone a little redder—just the slightest flush—and for once, he was trying to collect his thoughts, like he was having trouble finding the right words.

Oh, this was gold.

"I��uh, that's not..." He trailed off, looking completely out of his element. You leaned forward, eyes sparkling with amusement, already so sure you were right.

"Wait, hold on," you teased, narrowing your eyes. "Are you actually blushing right now?" You leaned back, crossing your arms, trying not to burst out laughing. "I knew it. I knew you had some secrets. You're too perfect. There's gotta be some dark side hidden away."

His face deepened into a shade of red that was honestly kind of adorable. "It's not... what you think," he muttered, trying to recover his usual level of composure, but it was clearly slipping.

"Oh, it's exactly what I think," you said with a sly grin, clearly enjoying this too much. "You totally have some weird kinks. You can't be this perfect without one."

Nanami looked away from you, his hands fumbling with his now-loosened tie, and the rare, uncharacteristic fluster on his face was enough to make you smirk with satisfaction.

"I really think we should change the subject," he said, his voice just a little strained. "You're... you're making assumptions, and—"

"Sure, sure, but c'mon," you interrupted, leaning back into the couch, suddenly feeling far too smug. "You can't expect me to believe that a guy like you—so buttoned-up, so... professional—hasn't got a whole other side to him."

Nanami's gaze shifted to you again, his eyes a little sharper now, a little more guarded. But his lips twitched upward, just barely, like he was holding back a smile.

"You really are something," he said quietly.

"Yeah, I know. It's a gift," you retorted with a grin. Then, just to throw him off completely, you added, "But you should know... now that you've said that, I expect you to tell me all your deep, dark secrets."

He just shook his head, still looking at you with that faint, amused smile—like he knew you were right about something, but he wasn't ready to admit it.

"You've had enough for tonight," Nanami said, his voice still holding that playful tone despite his best efforts to appear unbothered. "Maybe we should leave the dark side conversations for another time."

You grinned, but your cheeks were still flushed, your tipsy state just making everything feel lighter, easier. "Right. Keep your secrets, Mr. Perfect."

But inside, you were already mentally crossing the line of how much you wanted to know about him. And, honestly? You were starting to think he was maybe, just maybe, starting to enjoy this little bit of teasing.

Oh, Nanami Kento. You were definitely going to get to the bottom of this.

*-*

You handed Nanami the oversized sweatpants and sweatshirt, trying to act casual, but really? You were a nervous wreck. Who even does this? You were practically offering him your bed like it was no big deal, but internally, your brain was screaming, what is happening? Why is this normal?

"Here," you said, handing him the clothes. "You can change into these. I'll... uh, go do my skincare routine or whatever."

You tried to act like you were totally fine with this. It wasn't like he was going to be using your bed, right? You just offered it for practical reasons. Because, you know, you'd be sleeping on the couch, and size-wise, it made more sense.

Nope. No big deal. At all. Nuh uh.

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice polite, though there was a hint of confusion. "I can just take the couch."

You shrugged nonchalantly, though your stomach did some weird flip thing you couldn't explain.

"No, really. It's fine. You'd never fit on the couch anyway. Not that I'm saying I want to sleep on it, either, but..." You gestured vaguely, giving yourself a nice little internal eye roll. Smooth. Real smooth.

"Alright then," he said, taking the clothes with a tiny smile. "I'll take a minute."

You nodded and headed to the bathroom, eager to put some distance between yourself and the mounting awkwardness. You splashed some cold water on your face, scrubbing away your makeup like it was a shield you were throwing off. It wasn't like you wore a ton, but you still wanted to feel like you for a minute—no eyeliner, no mascara, actually you did wear a decent amout. Just you. Even if "you" was a person who had somehow invited Nanami Kento into her tiny dorm and handed him her pajamas.

God, this was weird. But hey, at least it was kind of fun to joke around with him. Sort of. Maybe. You tried to convince yourself of that.

After a quick skincare routine—your usual creams and moisturizers because you were basically living for that glow up—you stepped out of the bathroom and into the room, hoping you looked anything but like you were secretly dying of secondhand embarrassment.

You were in an oversized horror movie tee and Hello Kitty pajama pants. Classy and wooaaaa super sexy, right? It wasn't like you couldn't be comfortable just because he was here. You were allowed to be comfy. It was your space, for god's sake.

You found Nanami sitting awkwardly on the edge of your bed in the oversized clothes- well.. not on him, clearly not used to lounging in something that wasn't pristine and perfectly pressed. He didn't exactly look bad—of course he didn't, he was Nanami Kento, for Christ's sake—but there was something wrong about him in your mismatched pajama world.

He was too clean, too crisp, too neat.

"Uh, yeah, so, I don't know how comfortable this is for you," you said, gesturing at your bed, "but if you want, I can sleep on the couch and you can take the whole bed. I mean, I'm way more used to the couch than anyone should be."

He glanced over at you, expression as unreadable as always, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. "I'm fine," he replied, though his voice was just a little softer than usual. "It's... generous of you."

You rolled your eyes. "Don't worry, Nanami, it's not like you're actually doing me a favor. I'm the one who's getting the shitty end of the deal here."

Nanami gave you that look—the one that was so calm, so detached, it somehow made everything feel more intense. "You've been... kind to me. Even when you didn't have to be. I appreciate it."

You felt your face heat up. Why does he have to say stuff like that?

"Well, yeah, of course I'm being kind. You're basically stuck here because of the snowstorm, remember? I'm not that much of an asshole. I'm not offering you my bed just to be nice." You paused, barely holding back the dumb grin that was threatening to break free. "I mean, there are better options, but... hey, who else is gonna let you wear their stupidly oversized clothes?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Stupidly oversized?"

"Yeah," you said with a shrug, looking down- fuck that was the hint of a happy trail- you looked elsewhere.

For some reason, he laughed—a soft chuckle, but it was a real one. You weren't expecting that. The sound caught you off guard, making your stomach flip in an oddly nice way.

"Well, if that's the look you were going for," he said, "it's working."

You waved him off, still too embarrassed to even think about how ridiculous you must have looked. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

And with that, you flopped dramatically onto the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket-hello kittie mind you- like it was some kind of shield from the weird tension that was starting to brew between the two of you.

It wasn't like anything had changed between you two. You were just two people stuck in a tiny dorm while the world outside was covered in snow.

No big deal.

A/N: i tried making this a bit funnier, bc awkwardness can be funny imo, i hope you guys like this! i kinda liked writing it, two more parts (that'll be pretty long)

:)

[thewulf]

Who Did This To You? Pt 2 || Rafe Cameron

Summary: Request - Rafe fic based on song wait in the truck by Hardy. Basically he sees her one night that he’s going for a drive to calm down picks her up and drives to the house of maybe her dad or boyfriend and shoots them... Read Rest Here

A/N: Had to write a part two. Thanks for the inspo @loving-and-dreaming !!

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k+

“You did what?” You tried, but failed at, stopping your jaw from literally hitting the ground as you looked between your brother and Rafe. Neither looked too terribly thrilled to be in the presence of the other. You would’ve felt the same a night prior. But now? Now all you wanted to do was hide into Rafe’s arms. He made you feel safe, protected, secure. A different kind of feeling than when you were with your friends.

Rafe looked away from you quickly. Almost ashamed? Your head snapped back to your brother who looked terribly uncomfortable.

“JJ?” You asked him.

JJ shrugged only muttering, “Piece of shit got what he had coming for him.” Earning a small huff and grin from the other man in the room. JJ looked back up to your eyes only softening seeing your distressed state. As awful as a human as he was he was still your father. Was your father.

“Rafe?” You asked turning your attention back towards the man you never thought you’d have any good will towards. Yet here you were. Pining over the man. A man that even JJ would have to accept. How could he not? He’d quite literally saved your life last night. There was no way you were going to make it all the way to John B’s place.

Rafe sighed looking back up at you with that same softness that JJ was just exuding, “He almost killed you. I just, I don’t…” He paused, sighing once more before forcing a hand through his tangled hair, “He would’ve killed you if I didn’t get to him first Y/N.” He stated matter of factly as if to justify his own actions.

You sat down on the chair surrounding Rafe’s kitchen table, “Wow.” Your brain couldn’t think of any words to speak as it reeled over the events of the last few hours, “What about you?” The panic kicked in forcing you to jump up from the seat and back over to the much taller boy, “Are you going to get in trouble?” You asked looking at him with pleading eyes. You’d never dream of putting him in this spot. Putting anybody in such a spot.

He shook his head before gently brushing your own tangled hair out of your face, “It’s taken care of, don’t worry about it.” He refrained from going ‘too far’ in front of your older brother. Rafe knew JJ was a hothead, much like himself. Much different than the gentle soul that you were. A natural balance to his chaos.

“Are you sure?” You asked once more, afraid you could lose him just as quickly as you had gotten him.

He nodded, “Positive. Don’t worry about it.”

You turned back towards your brother, “What about us? Where are we going to go?”

“I’ll drop out. Get a job. Be your caretaker.” He shrugged as if it was as simple as that. Oh, how you wish it were that simple.

But you simply shook your head walking back over to him, “You can’t do that JJ.”

He smiled over to you trying his best to stay as calm as possible for you. It was natural that neither of you had felt much for the man. He was simply a body that took care of the bills at this point. But that was now gone. The two of you had to fend for yourself just like John B was currently doing. How in the hell had both your dads died within the span of a few months?

“You and I both know I’m never leaving this island. What’s it matter if I graduate school? I’ll get my GED and call it a day.” He pulled you in for a rare hug. One that he knew you needed by the way you were tensed up. He knew how off kilter your life had just been swung into.

“But JJ…” You started before he shook his head interrupting you mid-sentence. Rafe walked behind you giving you some distance, letting you have this conversation with your brother.

“It’s been figured out.” He finally let his bear hug grip on you go before looking down at his phone before sighing, “Look, gotta go pick JB and Sarah up. Going to fill them in. Don’t worry about it Y/N. Let us handle it, okay?”

You nodded, “I’m sixteen JJ, not five. I can help.” Letting out a frustrated sigh JJ just shook his head again before wrapping you up in another loving hug. He knew you needed it. He reserved these hugs just for moments like these. When your world was threatening to topple down right in front of you. He couldn’t bear it. You were one of the few consistent things in his life that always, no matter what, believed and cheered him on. His own personal ball of sun. He couldn’t let that diminish. No, he’d rather die than let that happen.

“You’re still my little sister. No matter what, yeah?” He grinned while punching you on the arm lightly. He didn’t know where you were hurting but he knew you certainly were. You were bruised and scratched from head to toe. JJ tried not to let his eyes linger on the particularly nasty bruises or scrapes. It should’ve been him. He should’ve been there for you. His worst fear come right to life in front of him. The sunshine that you were had been hit over and over again. JJ couldn’t help to feel like he had failed you.

Bobbing your head up and down you couldn’t help but to smile at him, “Yeah, okay.”

“Atta girl.” He walked towards the front door, “I’ll pick you up later?” He looked back and forth between you and Rafe who finally decided to step in.

“No need. I’ll drop her off at John B’s?” He asked as he walked towards your brother not letting you step in. It was odd having a male figure be so caring towards you. Not that JJ wasn’t. He was just your older brother who made you tough. He wasn’t always the one you wanted to cry to. He wasn’t your shoulder to lean on when everything was tumbling down. He was the one that was always there to build you back up. He was your brother. Your JJ. Your world and your starts. Your best friend. The person you needed most. JJ.

Your brother gave him a quick nod, “Sure.” He turned back towards you as his hand tugged at the doorknob, “Text me when you’re on your way.”

“Sounds good JJ. I’ll see you later.” You waved as he opened and shut the door quickly leaving you alone again with Rafe. He was quick. In and out in thirty minutes. Changing your life in thirty minutes. He might’ve just changed it for the better though. It might be naïve of you to think JJ could pull this off but why couldn’t he? He was always resourceful when he needed to be.

Feeling a gentle hand on your shoulder you were tugged out of your thoughts immediately, “Are you alright?” Rafe asked quietly seeing you stuck in your head.

You turned to look up to him with wide eyes, “I’m… Yeah I’m fine.” You sucked in a breath suddenly feeling incredibly awkward under his gaze. His very intense Kook stare you were terribly used to.

He frowned as he studied your nervous expression. Were you scared of him because he killed your father? JJ left you here so he couldn’t be worried. But were you?

Rafe decided to test the waters and reach out a hand to you. Without a second thought you brought your hand to his bringing his confidence up just a little. He tugged at your arm gently knowing you were in pretty serious pain. You complied following his to the couch. He pulled you into his side. He ran his hand along your back trying to calm your racing heart.

“It’s okay if you’re not okay.” Rafe whispered in your ear as he laid his head atop of yours.

You nodded into his chest feeling him wrap his arms around your waist pulling you ever so much closer, “I’m confused and a little sad. But I’m okay.”

He gave your hip a squeeze, “I’ll be here for you. Every step of the way.”

You let his words process in your head before finally speaking once again, “Why?” You just had to ask. It was eating at you, “Why do you care now?”

He didn’t let you go, only held you tighter, “I’ve always cared. I just didn’t know how to express it. Being uh… mean to you made it easier. My friends stayed away. They’re trouble. I’m trouble. You really shouldn’t want much to do with me Y/N.”

You sighed only letting your head fall completely onto his chest, “Yeah sure, whatever. My life’s already kind of fucked up isn’t it Rafe? Why not got all in?”

He smiled down you cuddled into him, “Because I care for you. Always have. Always will Maybank.” He began brushing your hair wish his fingers trying to tame it from the restless sleep you had the night prior.

You groaned, “I suppose I care for you to Rafe, please don’t go running away from me now.”

He shook his head, “Not unless you ask me. But don’t say I didn’t warn you sweet girl.”

You couldn’t help the creeping blush at that nickname he’d given you overnight, “Well, we’re in luck. Because that won’t happen.” You grinned up at him feeling that warmth you felt earlier spread around again, “Thank you Rafe.” You mumbled feeling sleepiness begin to take over you once more.

He kept brushing your hair hoping you’d fall asleep on him once again. Knowing full well your body needed the sleep to help recover after such an assault, “Anytime pretty. You know that.” He hoped in fact you did know that. Even though you’d been strangers moments prior he hoped you knew how much you really meant to him. He’d admired you from a distance hoping the cold shoulder would lead you away from him. And that worked until he saw you broken on the side of the rode. Rafe could never leave you to fend for yourself like that.

You mumbled something incoherent to his ears as you dozed off once again. He wasn’t sure how long you’d be asleep, but he was sure he wouldn’t move an inch hoping you’d get the best sleep you possibly could. He was a goner and he couldn’t really give less of a damn in that moment as you were curled up on him

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[leaentries]

🎄prompt 13 w/ Jamie Drysdale

this is so stinking cute

warnings: swearing

prompt 13- “if you don’t take me to see christmas lights, i’ll cry.”

lea’s christmas special!

It was finally December, the air was filled with your jolly spirit as you blasted christmas music in your apartment. The smell of your freshly brought in Christmas tree added to the sentiment. Gold, red, and green slowly crept its way into every aspect of your little space until it looked like Christmas had vomited everywhere.

Of course, this is how you preferred it. Colors strewn about, with decorations filling all the rooms. It brought joy to your heart and warmth to your soul. Jamie, although you two had been together for over a year, was still shocked when he walked into your apartment that December 1st morning.

“Wow, pretty girl,” He walked over to you, looking around at the vast amount of glitter and fake snow, “You really didn’t hold back, did you?”

You turned towards him, as his arms circled around your waist, “Well obviously not! You know Christmas is my favorite time of year!” Jamie smiled at you, taking in your appearance. The way the oversized Christmas sweatshirt hung on your body, to the matching red socks. He adored you.

“I know, I know, baby. And I love that you love it so much.” He placed his lips against your head as he mumbled, “I also brought some of your favorite hot chocolate from that little shop down the street.”

Your eyes widened in delight as you left his arms and raced to the kitchen table where he had set the drinks down upon walking in.

He admired your animated form with a lovesick grin. A chuckle left his lips as you burned yourself slightly in your over excitement. “Calm down, it’s hot.”

You gave him a side eye at his teasing smirk, “No shit sherlock.” Rolling your eyes, you gently blow on your drink, before taking a less-burning sip. The liquid’s warmth spread from your mouth through your body. You let your eyes shut in delight, a small hum of approval leaving your lips.

Jamie’s mind became void of anything as he watched your pleasured features. Your tongue darted out to lick a drop off of your parted lips. He swallowed thickly.

“This is the best drink in the world, I swear. And that little shop? God, I don’t know how they do it. I have to get the recipe from the owner.” You set the cup down, walking back to where Jamie remained at the kitchen island. “You know, I just was taking to the owner the other day actually. She was telling me about how her and her wife just got a puppy and they’re super exci-”

You stopped mid sentence as you became aware of Jamie’s staring. “What’s up with you, Jam?”

He shook his head slightly, coming back to reality. “N-nothing. I’m all good, pretty girl.” You raised a brow at him, “Promise. Now, what were you saying about the owner?”

❥.

After finishing your drinks, you and Jamie found yourselves cuddle on the couch binging Christmas movies. With the heat of his body, paired with the soft glow of the tv, you quickly slipped into a welcomed slumber.

Your body slowly began to awake, as you noticed the credits of “Home Alone” were now playing on the screen. Tilting your head, you saw Jamie’s peaceful sleeping face, the deep rise and fall of his chest could be felt beneath you. Although, your movements must have woken him as his hand came up to push your head back to the crook of his neck.

“Ja-”

“Shhhh. Not yet, don’t wanna leave you.”

You forced your head up, causing a deep sigh to leave his mouth. “Oh come on J, it’s already,” You grabbed your phone to check the time, “7:47. All of the Christmas lights are definitely on by now.”

Damn. He was hoping you’d forget that he promised to go drive around looking at lights tonight.

Jamie let another out another sigh. “What if I told you I would rather just lay with you all night instead?”

You looked him dead in the eye with no expression, “If you don’t take me to see Christmas lights, I’ll cry.”

“Fine, fine. Let’s go look at Christmas lights.”

“Yes!” Your face lit up immediately, you scrambling to your feet to slip on your Christmas slippers. You ran to the door to grab the matching pair you had bought Jamie. “Alright, J! Let’s go!”

Jamie just shook his head, chuckling at your antics.

If driving around for hours looking at lights on random houses is what his girl wanted, then thats exactly what his girl was gonna get.

[lady-of-nightmares-and-heartache]

Crossed

Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

You never were able to sleep all that well, knowing that your best friend was out all night fighting crime, and out all day staging unpermitted political actions, and concerts with his band. Hobie Brown did entirely too much.

He makes it a point to check in every so often so that you know he hasn’t forgotten about you. His only non-band member friend and the only one in his universe that knew about his big secret. Hobie Brown was Spider-Punk, and it was a full-time, penniless gig.

Shortly after you had become friends, you learned about his identity on accident. You were glad you did though, because it explained a lot about his prolonged absences. When he officially became homeless because he didn’t have an actual job, you offered up your place until he could get back on his feet.

That was a few months ago. Now he happily has his own flat, but spends just as much time at your own flat, if not more than his own.

So when he hasn’t stopped by or called in a week, you were worried. You know that he got called to Spider Society HQ to deal with some anomaly threat, but that was a week ago. Normally he’d be back by now, or would call you mid-fight just to check in.

You’re in your cotton shorts and an oversized tshirt while you watch a scary movie in the living room before heading off to bed. You likely won’t sleep well anyway, so you’re not overly concerned about potential nightmares.

While jump-scares are a cheap way to get a reaction out of the audience, they get you every time. So when the music peaks and the demon suddenly appears on screen AND you hear a violently loud, very real noise right outside of your bedroom window, your heart jumps into your throat and you swear you can feel your soul leave your body.

Pausing the movie (there’s no way you’re gonna continue watching that tonight) you creep towards your bedroom. Slowly opening the door, you see a figure opening up your window very slowly and shakily stepping into your bedroom. You flick on the light and you immediately calm down.

“Hobie, you nearly gave me a heart attack! Where have you been!”

Hobie pulls his mask off and looks at you, and you immediately notice that his eyes seem unfocused.

“Sorry bout th’t love.”

He takes a step forward and promptly crumples to the ground.

You’re only frozen in shock for about 30 seconds, but it feels like ages. You rush forward and drop to your knees, attempting to scan him for injury.

“Hobie?? Oh my god what happened to you??”

Hobie groans and mutters something unintelligible. You immediately get to removing his leather vest and that’s when you see the blood seeping through his spidey suit. You suck in a sharp breath.

“Hobie, I’m gonna have to remove this so I can fix it okay? I know you don’t like hospitals so I’m going to stop the bleeding and see if I can fix this.”

You’re amazed that you don’t panic, as you carefully lift Hobie’s shoulders up towards you so you can peel the top half of his suit down until it hangs around his waist. Carefully leaning him back into a flat position on the floor you gulp. It’s a lot of blood. You’re hesitant to leave him but you have to grab the first aid kit and some towels from the bathroom. You run there and back and immediately press the towel to the gaping wound that stretches from his brusing ribs to his lower side of his stomach.

The minute you apply pressure his eyes fly open with a gasp and he tries to sit up.

“Hobie, Hobie stop” he looks panicked and disoriented. “It’s just me, love.” You adopt the nickname that he calls you hoping it’ll snap him back to reality.

It has the desired effect, and he winces as he slowly lays back down.

“That bloody hurts y’know th’t?”

“I know,” you look down at the towel which is thoroughly soaked through and replace it with the next one. “I can’t get the bleeding to stop,” your voice pitches up towards the end of the sentence showing how worried you are. “And I’m certain this needs stitches.”

Hobie peers at you, pain still clouding his vision. He manages to lift a hand and place it over yours. “No.. hmph, no hospitals.”

You sigh. What seems like hours (it was really only twenty minutes) you finally staunch the blood and prep for the stitches.

“This’ll be a bit painful innit.” Hobie phrased it like a question, but really it was a statement. You brushed the sweat from his forehead.

“It will. I’ll try to be as gentle as possible.”

You chew your bottom lip as you begin the sutures. Obviously you want to get it done as fast as possible, but it also has to be done right. With every pull you can feel Hobie tense up as he tries not to flinch.

His breathing is ragged so you try to distract him by getting him to talk.

“You know, I was worried when I hadn’t heard from you for a couple days. I know you don’t believe in consistency but I had a feeling something was wrong when you never checked in… how did this happen??”

Hobie squeezes his eyes shut as you pull the needle until this portion of the stitch is taut.

“Just the usual ‘azards that come wit being spidey,” he grits out.

You scoff. “Hobart Brown, in the last two years that I’ve known you, you’ve never even come home with a scratch.”

“We’ve had a bit of a multiverse crisis.. s’why I been gone for so long”

You hum in contemplation as you make your way through the last few stitches.

“What happened?”

You tie off the thread and disinfect the area again, as Hobie tells you all about Miles Morales and Miguel and The Spot.

“So these canon events happen to everyone?”

Hobie averts his eyes. “What of it?”

It seems like a touchy subject, so you decide to leave it alone. Just because your friends, doesn’t mean you’re entitled to know every little detail about him, just like he doesn’t know every little detail about you.

“C’mon.”

You help Hobie up off the floor, and lead him to your bed. His arm immediately crosses his middle holding his aching ribs. Hobie starts to protest, saying he’ll just head back to his flat.

“Hobie, please lay down. I want you here so I can make sure you don’t rip your stitches, and you’re not swinging to your place.”

“Aye I’ll do it, but not b’cause you told me to.”

Once he lays flat on his back you go change into some not blood soaked clothes. You decide to toss all bloody paraphernalia in the dumpster outside, so you slip on your sneakers. Not five minutes later, you’re perched on the edge of your bed.

“Miles seems like a good kid,” you say absentmindedly.

“‘e is, jus’ wanted to fit in wit the likes of us.”

You grab his hand. “I’m proud of you.”

He raises a pierced eyebrow at you. “For wha’?”

“Helping Miles try to stop this.” You rub your thumb across the back of his hand, the shock of finding Hobie the way you did starting to wear off, and a deep sense of unaddressed dread starting to set in.

Hobie shakes his head. “He betta stop ‘is event, or I got all a these stitches for nothin.”

Your thumb stops moving and you squeeze his hand.

“What does that mean?”

Hobie’s silence is VERY loud.

Finally the puzzle pieces start to click into place.

“Nothin’ love, I jus-“

“Hobart Brown, is this ridiculously deep laceration from Miguel O’Hara?”

Hobie winces at the deadly (deceiving) calm in your voice.

“Uh it’s possible-“

“I’m going to kill him myself.”

As if a higher power was listening to you, Hobie’s watch activated requesting he return to HQ.

“Perfect!”

“Love it’s prob’bly a trap-“

Too late. You reach across for his other wrist and slap the button that opens the portal. One minute you’re in your apartment, and the next you’re on your first interdimensional travel field trip, with Hobie right beside you.

———————————————————————————

Crossed Masterlist

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

chapter xi - gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 3,700+

Warnings: spoilers for entire ACOTAR series

masterlist

“Eris…” She hummed to him. “Eris Vanserra.” 

Then her voice grew more urgent. “Eris…Eris…ERIS!” 

He finally shot up in bed. 

Sweat covered Eris’ naked torso as he awoke. Yet goosebumps covered his skin. 

Eris looked to the windows in his bedchambers, and saw that one was open, and there was a strong wind coming through. 

He paused, not remembering leaving it open before he went to bed. 

Slowly, he emerged from his bed and walked to the window. 

Eris stood at the opening, hands gripping the sill. 

A part of him waited for her voice to call out for him still, even now that he was awake. But the wind was quiet, only slightly brushing by him, and cooling the sweat on his muscular chest. 

It was hard to decipher what was actually Y/N calling to him and what was the bond messing with his head. Everything about the two of them felt unprecedented due to Y/N not being merely mortal. 

Eris looked at the block on his nightstand. He had only been sleeping for barely two hours when he’d awoken. That was the most he'd gotten in weeks. 

Go to her, his soul begged. 

Eris suddenly found himself considering his responsibilities in the next couple of days. They were lesser than usual. Why did his heart lighten at that realization? 

Eris closed the window slowly, making sure to secure it this time. 

–🍁–🍁–🍁–

Rhysand and Feyre had granted access to Velaris to Eris not long after his first visit to the Night Court where he left Y/N with them. They hadn’t really known what to expect in regards to Eris actually taking advantage of the privilege. 

Eris had never explored the mystery city. But the bond or perhaps Y/N’s magic – maybe both – seemed to be guiding him. 

He finally turned a tight corner and stopped in his tracks. 

Y/N sat outside what he presumed was her shop. She’d pulled a chair out and seemed to be taking in the morning sun with a large mug of coffee. 

It took Eris a second to realize that there was a spoon in the mug that was stirring itself, while Y/N’s hands kept warm by cupping the sides. He smirked at the little bit of magic. 

Then he noticed that Y/N was mumbling under her breath, as if trying to hide it from anyone who might be wandering past. 

A part of Eris wanted to turn around and forget this whole idea.

But it was nearly impossible to ignore how much better he felt just seeing his mate. The tension in his shoulders was gone, he stood up straighter, the migraine had finally weakened, and the exhaustion had been replaced with a sudden pierce of energy and awareness. 

Eris’ body moved on its own accord. 

It was only when he was a few feet away that Y/N’s eyes met his and they widened in surprise at his appearance. 

Y/N had been talking, mid sentence, when she noticed him. 

“Sorry,” she blurted out without even meaning to. 

“Never apologize to me, Y/N.”

Eris blinked, suddenly realizing he’d never addressed her by her own name before. 

But then he remembered what Cassian had told him: that many thought Y/N to be crazy due to her gifts in witchcraft. And Eris’ hands clenched into fists at his sides, thinking of anyone saying such things about his mate. 

“What are you doing here?” Y/N blurted out. She blinked rapidly. “I-I-I mean, what are you doing in Velaris?” 

“News of your store has reached even Autumn Court…” Eris said. But then added, “But I have business with the High Lord and Lady.”

Though he caught how his words came through his mask still – cold and emotionless. 

And Y/N caught it, too. For she shifted in her seat with discomfort, unsure of how to respond to the clashing of his words with his tone.

Eris cleared his throat and looked at the ground.  

Damn himself. He couldn’t even talk to his mate without sounding like some arse. 

“Are you quite well?” 

His head shot up at the question. 

Surely she wasn’t talking to him. 

But she was. 

In fact, Y/N's gaze studied him with genuine concern. He caught how they lingered on the deep shadows beneath his amber eyes.

While Eris never dressed and groomed less than perfection every day of his life, it appeared his exhaustion was impossible to hide.

Eris bowed his head. “It seems a good night’s sleep has rather been a challenge for me, as of late…”

He didn’t see the point in trying to lie to Y/N. The truth was quite clear and he did not wish to seem like he thought her some fool. 

Y/N gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m familiar.” 

Eris wouldn’t meet her gaze now. 

But he heard her slowly stand from her chair and walk to him. 

“Would you like to come in for some tea?” 

Eris’ gaze once again shot up to meet her’s. 

Y/N stepped even closer with an encouraging smile. “P-Please, I insist.” 

Eris shifted his weight. “I will not be in your way? Your shop has just opened.”

Y/N shook her head. “Business is usually slow in the mornings, especially this early in the week. I promise it is no bother.” 

Eris finally nodded and put a few steps between them as he followed her into the store. Just before stepping in, he looked around them, half expecting that Spymaster to be watching from the darkness or perhaps even one his his shadows. 

Y/N led them to what appeared to be a backroom in the the store. 

A fire was already kindling in the small hearth. Above it hung dozens of herbs drying from being upside down and hanging in front of the warmth. There was a desk shoved into the corner, with a dozen quills and some notebooks strewn across its surface. 

Eris assumed this was where Y/N did all of her conjuring and casting for her merchandise. 

Despite it being her place of work, Eris still felt like he was tainting her personal space, her closest thing to home and sanctuary. 

“Please, do sit.” Y/N gestured to a small table with three chairs opposite the room from the fireplace. 

Eris watched Y/N as she started moving about the room. He studied her outfit: a full quilted skirt and a simple white, button-up shirt with the sleeves already rolled up for her work. It looked less Night Court than the other outfits he’d seen her in. 

A few moments later, Y/N placed a large mug of tea in front of Eris while she had poured herself another mug of coffee. 

“You are quite frustrating, you know?” Y/N smirked at him before taking a sip of coffee. 

Eris tilted his head. “How so?” 

“You save my life, bring me here – a court where you hold no true friends. Your own brother doesn’t seem fond of you. And even he seemed confused that you helped me at all in the first place.” 

“Anything else?” Eris quipped. 

Yes,” Y/N huffed as she sat back and crossed her arms. “T-They tell me too little.” 

Eris couldn’t help but smirk. “They as in the wind?” 

She hesitated before nodding. 

“The Night Court is the safest court in the fae realm for a mortal,” Eris finally explained, as if it were obvious. “I do not have connections in the mortal realm.”

That was not entirely true. He could’ve brought Y/N to the Exiles’ manor. But he didn’t see Jurian or Vassa as capable enough to protect his mate. Furthermore, they owed him nothing.

Y/N’s voice was almost a whisper as she asked, “Are things really so terrible in Autumn Court?” 

Eris only nodded. 

“It may seem hard to believe and though my circumstances were menacing…” She took in a shaky breath. “There was a moment where I couldn’t ignore how…beautiful it was.” 

Eris froze at such a confession. Y/N was dragged and tortured like a slave through his court, yet she still found the beauty in it, same as him. 

“It is not the land that is terrible,” he corrected. “But its ruler and those who stay loyal to him, despite his evil.” 

“And that is why sleep evades you?” Y/N asked carefully. 

Eris lifted his tea again and simply said, “Perhaps.” 

A peaceful silence settled between them. There was only the crackling of the fire, something brewing in a cauldron above it, and the soft ticking of a clock on another wall. 

“You speak of overthrowing your own father so carelessly…I cannot help but ask: what will you do to make it better?”

Eris was rendered speechless. He realized that no one had ever asked him that – mostly because his plans to usurp his father were a dangerous secret. And the few that knew – which was mostly Rhysand’s inner circle – saw him as no less evil than Beron. 

Y/N interpreted his silence as offense. 

“Excuse me,” she quickly apologized. “I’ve f-f-finally spoken out of turn.” 

Her head bowed in shame as she sipped her coffee more. 

“The farmers,” Eris muttered without realizing it. 

Y/N looked at him with confusion. “The farmers?”

“My father pays them poorly. He does it so they’re competitive, desperate, and will do anything for more money or his favor. I would pay them the wage they deserve.” 

“What else?” Y/N encouraged. 

Unbeknownst to Eris, she had seen a spark light in those amber eyes of his. And she wanted to make it burn even brighter. 

“I would banish all the courtier’s who did nothing to stand against my father’s malevolence, all because they gained either power or riches from it. I would view the other court’s as allies, not enemies who would strike Autumn at any moment.” 

Eris took in a deep breath, as if sharing such a thing was the greatest relief. “Autumn Court would become prosperous from my people’s contentment and harmony, not from their fear and pain.” 

Y/N watched him in shy wonderment. 

“But perhaps I am no better than my father,” Eris muttered, staring into his tea. 

Y/N surprised him by leaning forward with utter determination on her face. “The winds say nothing but hideous things about Beron Vanserra.” She hissed his father’s name as if it were venomous. “Was it not him who allowed my trading through his court?”

She huffed and leaned back, her face softening. “You are not your father. There is much I must learn of you, Eris Vanserra, but that I am sure of. Because you saved my life in the woods that day.”  

The breath had been knocked from Eris’ chest. He could not breathe, he could not speak. All he could do was feel the heavy beating of his heart and the string between him and Y/N get pulled even tighter. 

If Y/N saw the impact her words had on him, she didn’t show it. 

But their moment was interrupted by the shops entrance bell dinging. 

“Excuse me,” Y/N said politely as she stood. “I will be right back.” 

As soon as she left the backroom, a gasp left Eris. It was like he had been drowning until that very moment when those words left Y/N’s lips. Now his lungs were fighting for every breath. 

It took a few minutes for him to gain control of himself again. 

And then he suddenly felt a crest of fatigue. 

Now that Eris was finally in the presence of his mate again, surrounded by her scent and her safe space, could his body finally find rest?

Eris didn’t mean to, but before Y/N returned, he slumped back in his chair and allowed his eyes to slowly close. 

–🍁–🍁–🍁–

Eris awoke to the sound of something lightly hitting the table in front of him. 

He jolted awake, quickly remembered where he was by catching Y/N’s sent. 

Before him on the table, a bowl of stew had been placed. 

He looked up to see that it was Y/N who had placed it there and she was ladling another portion into a bowl for herself. 

“How long was I asleep for?” Eris asked hurriedly. 

Y/N smirked. “About 6 hours.”

Eris’ eyes snapped to the now empty tea he had been drinking. 

“You put something in my drink,” he accused. 

Y/N sat across from him with her own bowl of stew. “I did. But it should not have been that strong. You are more tired than you let on.”

It was not the tea, Eris thought. You. You are the magic. 

“Are you upset with me?” Y/N asked before taking her first bite of stew. 

He narrowed his gaze, the mask slightly returning. “I suppose it would not matter if I was.”

“I promise you were perfectly safe back here,” Y/N added. “I checked on you throughout the day.” 

That’s when Eris realized that there had also been a blanket placed on his lap. 

He looked at the bowl of stew in front of him again. 

“Do you need to return to the House of Wind?” Eris asked, expecting one of Rhysand’s bats to interrupt them at any moment to fly her home. 

“They had an important meeting in Day Court...or Winter Court. Can’t remember.”

But Eris knew she did remember. Y/N just didn’t trust Eris enough with that information. It could be nothing important, yet she still protected her friends and the Night Court from him. 

“Thank you…for the stew,” Eris told her softly. 

“I’m sure it doesn’t compare to the food at your Court,” she admitted. 

Eris didn’t correct her. He was too busy thinking of this happening once she felt the mating bond, once it had been awoken for her…and she made him this same meal to accept their bond. Eris knew this didn’t answer the magic, he would’ve felt it. But that didn’t stop him from dreaming of the future. 

“You know, Lucien actually asked me to dinner not too long ago,” Y/N said through a smile before blowing on a spoonful of stew. 

Eris’ spoon clattered to the table as he growled, “Stay away from him.”

The growl alone made Y/N laugh at the male, “What ever for?” 

His reaction was exactly the one she had been fishing for and came out triumphant. It seemed rather easy to taunt Eris. And for some reason, Y/N got such joy from it.

“I’ve seen many a female fall for his hollow charm. You can do better.” 

Y/N smirked at that. “Oh, can I?” 

Eris refused to elaborate, choosing to take another bite instead.

Yes, he wanted Y/N to find someone else to love – someone better, safer. But to love Lucien would be the Cauldron’s greatest tortures. And she would be no safer from Beron with him. 

“If I’m being honest,” Y/N started quietly. “I rather pity him.” 

Eris made a noise of disgust. “What for?”

“I do not know much about these mating bonds of faes. But is it not heartbreaking that Elain will not so much as give him a chance?” 

Did Eris dare ask the question that was screaming in his mind to be let out?

“And what do you think of it all?”

“What?”

“Mating bonds.” 

Her brow furrowed in thought. “At first it seemed so…magical.”

“Spoken from a witch...” Eris answered gruffly. 

She glared at him, but continued. “But then Feyre said it didn’t guarantee the two would be happy or in love. And it seemed…r-rather cruel.” She blinked and shook her head. “Look at Lucien…I fear he is lonely. Will he just live the rest of his immortality unloved? And that…that is the true dark side of it all.” 

Eris felt sick at the her words. 

Y/N was so unaware that she spoke of the same thing to her own mate. But to her, it was impossible to have one the begin with. 

“Your mother and father are they…?”

Eris cleared his throat in attempt to push back all the emotions that threatened to expose themselves. “No. No, my mother’s marriage to my father was arranged. No female with any sense would ever agree to marry my father.” 

“And do you have–”

But Y/N’s question was interrupted by the shop bell dinging once again. 

“Oi!” Cassian yelled into the shop. “Are you sleeping in the back again?” 

“Cassian, must you always be yelling?” Feyre giggled. 

“Back so soon?” Y/N called back through a smile. 

“Why?" Cassian laughed. "Did you think we forgot about yo–”

Feyre and Cassian froze in the doorway when they spotted Eris. 

Y/N shrunk in her seat, not sure how to handle their reaction to her guest. 

Feyre recovered first. “Eris, we were not expecting you.” 

“I had already warned him that you were all on court business,” Y/N answered. 

“Ready to go home, Y/N?” Cassian asked. 

“Yes. Store has already been cleaned. I just have to put out the fire and lock up.”

With a wave of Eris hand, the fire extinguished, as well as every candle in the store. 

Y/N paused in awe at it. 

She had assumed Eris had some abilities due to being High Fae and the heir to Autumn Court. But it was still amazing to see. 

“Perhaps we shall wait for you outside,” Feyre answered as she shoved Cassian in the direction of the entrance. 

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Y/N jumped to her feet and handed Eris a wicker basket that was covered with a grey linen cloth. 

Eris squinted. “What is this?” 

“Sleep candles,” Y/N answered as if it were obvious. “They’re enchanted, but filled with mostly lavender and then some mugwort, rose petals, and rosemary.”

She pointed to a bundle of waxy leaves. “Eucalyptus. Hang it near your bathtub. The steam will impel its relaxing elements.”

Finally she pointed to a jar filled with tea leaves. “This is the poison I gave you earlier today,” she explained with a mischievous smirk. 

“Very funny,” Eris cut.  

He tried not to let his heart warm from her handing him such thoughtful gifts. 

So, instead, he coldly asked, “How much?”

“Free,” Y/N answered, clearly expecting such a question. 

Finally, she realized how dark it had gotten in her shop after Eris blew out every flame. 

“I never really properly thanked you…for what you did for me.”

“I didn’t do it for your gratitude,” Eris answered harshly. 

But at least his words were true. 

Y/N shook her head at him, almost amused by his severity. “Take the candles and tea, Eris. I have to lock up.”

He started walking out the back room when he paused. “Thank you…for dinner. And for the sleep. And for the…company.”

Eris didn’t look at her as he finally finished with, “I am sure you could see how much I needed it.” 

Y/N looked at him with such sincere sympathy. “You are welcome to rest here anytime.” 

Eris walked outside to find Cassian and Feyre talking hurriedly, yet quietly, between each other. It stopped as soon as they spotted Eris walking out of the store. Both their gazes snapped to the basket in his grasp. 

“Testing the merchandise?” Cassian asked with a playfulness in his eyes. 

Feyre elbowed him in the ribs. 

Eris had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the two of them. “I shall take my leave.” 

“Wait,” Feyre stepped forward. 

Y/N emerged from her store, starting to lock it behind her. 

“We have matters to discuss,” Feyre added, ignoring Y/N’s presence. 

Cassian stepped to Y/N with a knowing smirk and his arms held out. 

“Shall we?” He asked with a tilt of his head. 

Y/N groaned. “I’m never going to grow to like flying, you know.”

Cassian lifted her into his arms like she weighed nothing. And Eris tried to push down the feeling of jealousy and rage he had at seeing another male holding his mate. 

“I know,” Cassian laughed before launching them into the air. 

Y/N yelped and Eris caught her hiding her face in Cassian’s neck. 

“She’s fine,” Feyre told him as she had closely watched Eris’ reaction to his mate being flown further and further away from him by another male. 

Eris ignored the High Lady’s comment and turned to her, already knowing he would not like this conversation. 

“What is this about?” He asked with cold annoyance. “Have we changed our minds about my visiting rights to the Night Court?” 

“I don’t know what you’re doing,” Feyre began. “Though I wish I didn’t have to care, I do. Because Y/N has become one of us.” 

“Yes,” Eris growled. “That has become abundantly clear.” 

“I’m going to show you something. Something she said. Lower your shields.” 

Eris wanted to refuse such a request, but did as she asked. 

Images of Y/N flooded his mind. She was drunk and beautiful, warming the room of what looked to be a pleasure house. 

“I-I’ve had my fair share of lovers during my travels – with mortal men…”

“Lovers,” Y/N repeated her own words in a giggle. “As if they were even worthy of the title.”

Y/N’s face suddenly became somewhat sober, twisting into something almost sad. 

Her eyes grew distant. “It never really ended up feeling how I wanted it to. I was always left feeling…used.” 

She let out a drunken, huff of a laugh. “So I stopped bothering…”

Then Feyre was out of Eris head and his shields returned. 

Eris was breathing heavily, nostrils flared. His chest expanded quickly. And his hands were in fists at his side, both surrounded by a ball of deadly flame. 

Whatever males had ever touched Y/N to make her feel such a way…

Everything in Eris’ being wanted to find each of them and torture them until they were begging him for death. 

Feyre stepped closer and lowered her voice as she uttered, “I do not know what your intentions are with Y/N. But understand…if you do anything to treat her in a similar matter, my Court will counter accordingly.” 

Eris held the High Lady’s glare, not backing down. 

And then he winnowed back to Autumn Court. 

––––––––

please, please, please be nice and leave a comment. leave a book report. dissect what you must. it would bring me such joy.

chapter xii

[sometimesibewriting]

Where Are You Going?

✨Summary: Uryu leaves you with only the rain to console you.

💙Ello, another angst piece, to no one's surprise. Idk if I said this but I had an idea for a chaptered Uryu x OC fanfic set in the Bleach Cannon world. But I was too lazy to write a 3 series fanfic. So I just have like random scenes in my head that won't leave, so here I am just writing them to get them out of my head. I hope y'all enjoy, I definitely want to write stuff outside of angst. Will get working on that soon. :D

❌No warnings❌

💕SFW

📃Wordcount: 945

Uryu saw it coming. If it was true that the quincy were still alive and planning something they would come to recruit him. So he wasn't surprised when someone appeared to him the day Ichigo left and proposed that he join his people in crushing the soul society. He told the blonde man before him to give him a few days to think, the blonde man responded, by saying there was no time to think. But Uryu knew his people well they wouldn't just rush in, they would take their time. By how hasty the blonde man who told him to call Haschwalt was Uryu could tell the observing part of their grand scheme had finished and they were ready to move. Uryu told him that he knew he had time.  Haschwalt closed his eyes whether that was from annoyance or from thinking he would never know. He sighed then left telling Uryu he'd be back soon.

A light flashed, followed by spiritual pressure waking Uryu up it was familiar to him. He looked down at his chest, the girl lying on it not stirring. Uryu did his best to slip out from under her replacing his chest with a pillow, he pulled a blanket up and over her. Before going outside he placed a piece of paper with a written but vague apology on the coffee table. 

He paused looking down at her, she was going to hate him if he did this, could he live with that? No, he would have to live with that. There was no other way for this plan to work he ran his hand through his hair, this was the only option. He pushed up his glasses leaning over to place a kiss on her forehead. 

Uryu went outside to meet Haschwalt it started raining in the evening, and now that it was night the rain was even harsher, how fitting Uryu thought. "Have you made up your mind?" Haschwalt asked as he stepped in front of him. "I have," Uryu said firmly. "Your answer?" Haschwalt eyed. "I decided to take you up on your offer." He gave Uryu a look that read as shock. "What made you come to this conclusion?"

Uryu assumed Haschwalt was going to ask him that. After all, he did talk to Uryu like he was suspicious of his actions. "While I do have friends here, I am of quincy blood, I should profile my duty as one. After all the Soul Society is the reason why I'm the only quincy left." Haschwalt looked down at him his face unchanging. "Well then you have made your decision follow me."

They took one step before hearing the back door slide open, Uryu’s heart dropped at the familiar sound. "Ishida." A fimilar voice called if Haschwalt wasn't there he definitely would have cussed. He turned towards the voice. "Yes." He answered. "What are you doing-" She stopped mid-sentence when she saw Haschwalt, she looked at the blonde trying to get a read on him. "Who's this?"

"I see you still have some loose ends to tie up." Haschwalt looked irritated.

"She's not a loose end." Uryu shot back, Haschwalt's face stayed stagnant. Uryu then walked up to the door standing in front of her soaking wet. She pulled the quilt he had put on her closer to her body as the wind blew. She looked at Haschwalt and then back at Uryu. "He's a quincy isn't he? The spiritual pressure is similar to yours."

Uryu didn't answer instead he hugged her, quilt falling around onto the wet ground. He rested his chin on her shoulder his arms wrapping around her, pushing them closer together. She stood there confused as he wasn't usually an emotional or physical person. It was weird to say his warmth felt warm.

"You know I would never hurt you?" His voice was cold yet sincere. "Right?"

"Uryu..." She repeated.

He put his head on hers. "I need you… I need you to remember that I would never do anything to hurt you."

"Uryu. What are you about to do?" She asked although she felt like she had an idea. "Something I have to do." He answered back. Uryu hugged her once more then went to join Haschwalt at his side, she screamed for him while running towards him. Uryu closed his eyes wishing this was all a bad dream.

Just as she reached them, Uryu along with Haschwalt was engulfed in what appeared to be a black mass. The last thing she heard was Uryu saying; "I'm sorry." They disappeared and she fell as there was nothing to catch her, the rain falling harder or atleast felt like it was. She clenched the ground dirtying her fingers tears filling her eyes as she tried to figure out what just happened. A quincy came for Uryu.

There were other quinces besides him. Her one fear had come true. She knew if the Quinces were alive during everything that was happening it would not end well for Uryu. She knew if he had to choose between his people and his friends he would choose the people. If in the same position, she would also choose her people. It would be shellfish of her to think he would choose her, Ichigo, Chad, and Orihime over the Quinces. Yet that didn’t stop the hurt she felt as he left with no explanation the only thing he said being a simple sorry. As if the weight of what just happened hit her she plopped to the ground, curling up into a ball, crying. Her tears mixing with the rain on her face.

Will he be back?

[the-rocket-scientist]

Yandere! Alt. Gabriel X Reader (ROMANTIC) PART 3

Requested by Nadmur on AO3 yet again They were curious of the overall outcome of this story so therefore I bring you the third part >:) Hope you enjoy the True Ending. (The Good Ending as an alternate timeline is coming soon)

. . . . . 

Lucifer.

Lucifer, your Savior. Your guardian angel. Your love.

You used to hate him so much when you entered Hell at first. The very man who stole your loved one's life, and technically yours in the end. By force. He wasn't too happy about your escape, and Lucifer had set his mind in punishing you to make you stay here forever.

"Welcome to Hell, the eternal abyss, my dear.

"Now you shall reside here with me forever!

"Come and stand by my right hand, without fear.

"You shall be my partner, and my timeless lover."

When you heard those words and opened your eyes you were in a strange, desolate place. Some parts were a barren wasteland, with a terrible smell you could not describe in human words. Some other parts looked like huge bodies of water: some of an island as molten lava, with fire. Overall, the place did not look suitable to be in. Worst of all, there were people, of priests and humans, walking hopelessly in the lands of the desolate: this was the final clue to where you were.

Hell.

(Oh great.)

You turned to Lucifer, who was still ever more beautiful, not daring to show his true form to you again, unless necessary. And right now was his face of terror not needed, yet.

You asked him why you were here, but then stopped mid sentence. Obviously you were in Hell because you had taken your own life, and when one forcibly cuts their life sentence, they were to end up in this eternal abyss of despair.

You had failed your Father.

In grief and in pain, you started to weep and cry for your sins. You begged for forgiveness for your stupidity and rashness, but nobody came. No one. Not a single soul except of the false angel.

He was embracing you again with his arms and wings, your head resting against his stomach. He contained no body warmth, only the freezing cold of a soulless being. You looked up, and seeing his face was monotone and did not change at all, a mask of disappointment. You realized something terrible was planned for you.

"Fear not and cry not, my child," he spoke in the same, memorable whisper, "You will stay with me forever. None can escape death, not even the Son of God. Why are you not happy? Why do you despair and cry out for your pain? Answer me, and I shall aid you however I can."

You tried pulling away, but he only held you tighter.

"Ah, why do you wish to leave? I never gave permission for you to leave, and I won't let you waltz out my realm like last time."

He released you, but then Lucifer grabbed your right wrist with his left with an iron grip.

"I shall teach you what happens to those who dare disobey my words."

He folded his wings in around you and himself and warped into a different place in Hell. You stumbled as you did not expect the force and momentum behind the teleportation. But you managed to not fell over in shock when you saw a certain someone.

N.

Oh, how long have you not seen him. This wonderful alternate whom you used to befriend in the timeless void. Who kept you good company. In jealousy Lucifer had dispatched him. And now here N was, his limbs bloodily ripped out of their sockets, bleeding a black substance, and almost on the verge of death.

But death does not exist for this alternate as a creature of Hell and terror.

You cried out his name, and he opened his two large eyes slightly in pain. They widened more when they spotted you, and when Lucifer stood next to you.

"[Name]..." he muttered in his glitchy staticky voice. "I am not... not allowed..." he groaned in pain and faltered.

"You do not want to get close to him unless you want more harm done than good," Lucifer warned, as he summoned a cold silver trident and pointed towards N. The trident held power, and illuminated a slight tint of red. You desperately wanted to go and help N and put him out of misery if it weren't for Lucifer stopping you. His threat hung low in the air.

You asked him, begged him for answers, why he was doing this to N. His own creations, tortured like this because of you.

"You disobeyed me, and so have N," Lucifer replied with a stern voice. "You get what you deserve, and so does N."

You started crying again, and Lucifer, bathing in your pain and anguish, chuckled sadistically. He loved to see you weak and powerless against him: it made the adrenaline and serotonin in his body rush in with a buzz of exciting warmth.

N visibly panicked and became more upset when you started to sob. "Don't... worry about me... young one," he spoke gently, his voice strained, "I will be fine... Just take care of yourself..."

He coughed black blood through his invisible mouth.

"Let me show you who is next in my punishment," Lucifer said rather too gleefully, excited to show you more of the horrors and put you in place.

You tried to pull away, but his left hand, still on your right, gripped even harder to the point of almost breaking them. You cried in pain as he teleported again through the wrinkle of space and of the eternal abyss.

You were dizzy from the warping, but when you opened your eyes you wished to close them again. You recognized the alternate and the creature hanging by the neck with barbed wires from the ceiling.

Six and Preacher.

They had been hung for a long time by now, for the flesh in their hands were ripped off their bones and bleeding. They either have been trying to get the barbed wire off their neck to stay circulated or have been gripping them to hang on with their bare hands.

Preacher was unconscious but Six was awake and saw you with Lucifer by your side. You cried out their names and only one responded with a breathless "[Name]?"

"Do not interact with them, my child," Lucifer said rather coldly, "for they have not been forgiven yet, and never will."

You started to protest but he put his large, slender hand over your mouth after dissipating his trident he was holding. With his other hand he had not let go of your wrist.

"Do utter words no further, my child," Lucifer shushed. "Would you like to meet your dear friend one last time?"

No, he can't be talking about...

"You must be punished after all, especially after your escape attempt."

No. Please.

He teleported again.

You threw up in the end, as Lucifer let go of your wrist and watched you suffer in glee. How he loved you so dearly. How you looked so lovely when you were in such pain and anguish. Your fearful expressions on your cute face. He loved your reactions rather from terror and despair than happiness and hope. Unless he was to crush the hope in your and watch your face crumble into devoid sorrow. Then that was even more better for his pleasure.

Your guts burned from the pain, as you looked around and hugging your stomach. Nothing. Just pure darkness. No sounds. The place felt extremely deafening.

Lucifer was looking at stacks of parchment paper. He glowed in the dark, the only source of light in this deafening empty world. He flipped through some pages and came upon a name:

"Ruth Weaver. For she have sinned and fallen short of the Glory of God, and have not accepted the Father's words and ways."

His voice rang out in the darkness in all directions. An invisible, powerful shockwave could be felt, stretching for miles. Until one figure appeared that you could recognize even in this dim light.

"[N]-[Name]?" Ruth said, in a shaky voice, her eyes widened in disbelief.

"You have 5 minutes, my child," Lucifer interrupted, a far-too stretched grin on his face, "Before you never see her again."

You asked where the shepherd's daughter, your old friend, Ruth was.

"Why do you ask when she is right in front of you?"

This statement hit you as if you got in a severe car accident. Of course Ruth would still be Ruth: just slightly modified, due to the nature of reincarnations. Ruth had been Ruth for many generations, you just didn't know and was unaware. No wonder this Ruth felt so close to your friend.

You teared up and quickly embraced Ruth, who was startled but fiercely hugged back. "I'm so happy to see you again," she softly said, tears starting to run down her cheeks, "I promised I would come back... I'm so sorry..."

You reassured her that it was alright.

"It's so quiet and dark here..." Ruth continued, "I feel so lonely... especially with an alternate or two trying to torment me. But!!" Here she managed a bold yet shaky grin, shining her old personality again even in just a glimmer. "I'll stay strong. I think of you when times are hard. Even if it's forever, even if I'm in Hell, I'm glad I got to know you. I'm glad I can remember you as a person. Don't forget that, [Name]. Keep being you in this hellish world, alright?"

"Time is up for you, my child," Lucifer interrupted, one of his hands interlocking fingers with yours. He still had that smug grin, because he knew it wasn't five minutes, and he knew you were aware of that. But you couldn't argue: your friends might get into worse situations than they were currently in, and you didn't want that.

As Lucifer made you face the opposite way, away from Ruth, you looked back at her one last time. You swore to remember her words no matter what.

How the times have changed.

As time passed in this dark realm, you saw no one except for Lucifer, and only him. You were not allowed to see anyone, and he isolated you in his home. You couldn't even get out: the halls were too long and twisted and you couldn't possibly found your way out even if you were allowed to. Even then, Lucifer always accompanied you. 24/7. He even undressed you himself and stood at the front of the bathroom door, waiting for you to finish whatever you needed to do.

At first you were uncomfortable, and tried to rebel against him again. But he only made his punishments worse, from just forcing you to watch your friends all scream in pain, to you being the victim of the torture yourself. And so one day, you have given up. Life (or the afterlife) seemed much better after that, for Lucifer made no attempt to hurt you when you behaved. He was kind as the morning rays of sunshine and sweet as the lush green meadows to you. He bathed you in all the glory that existed and treated you like an equal royal as of him.

Millennials passed, and you started to forget your past memories.

You vaguely remember yourself trying to desperately cling into the golden memories that kept you independant. Memories of you as a child of a shepherd and your friend Ruth, waiting for the Son of God to descend and save them all. You teaching Ruth how to weave, and Ruth to you to speak Latin. You remembered praying together under the moonlit sky, with stars that speckled with joy and serenity. You remembered the police officer Ruth, whom you befriended with once you escaped to the surface. You remembered N, Six, and the Preacher, who helped you escape in the first place and made your thoughts clear.

But Lucifer was always there to gently hug you, to make you forget. To make you forget of Ruth's words.

"You do not need those imbeciles, my child," he always spoke to you in that gentle, yet stern way. "You do not need to remember anyone but me. Your True Savior. Your guardian angel. Now you look quite tired, why don't you go to sleep?"

Your eyes, no matter how much you tried to fight against his spell, drooped heavily and closed. And your memories would be even more blurred and more difficult to remember than last time you woke up. You weeped in pain because of this, and every time, Lucifer was there for you. His voice was of mockery of comfort, but he was always there for you.

Always.

And now you have forgotten.

You remembered the pale faces of the alternates, the strange man, and a brown-haired woman turn to horror as Lucifer asked if you remembered who they were. You did not, and you said so in a rather confused and honest tone than the voice of emptiness. One of them even started to shed tears, but for what? Were you supposed to remember them?

But no matter. Lucifer was there for you. And after that encounter, you met them never again, and you didn't remember the brief meeting in the first place. His hand proudly in your shoulder as you and him spend quality time together. You and him.

You and Lucifer.

Your guardian angel.

Time became meaningless to you. Nothing meant anything but Lucifer. Your True Savior.

One day, he brought in great news to your ears.

"My child," he had said. "I bring good news of great joy. I have finally overthrown the enemy of mine!"

You happily celebrated with him afterwards, cuddling together, and all the while getting ready to ascend to the heavens. What was a heaven in the first place? You didn't know, and you were afraid. But Lucifer was there for you when you first entered the great skies. So blue was the sky, and so white were the clouds. There was only one golden throne, but Lucifer had placed a second golden one, smaller than his, yet one that still held majestic power. Next to each other, like you were with Lucifer.

And so you sat side by side with him, and he one day, prepared a magnificent wedding for you. You never had children, both of you never wanted one in the first place. Lucifer and you just needed each other. And that was all both of you needed. Your love for him and his love for you was inseparable: and for all eternity the guardian angel, now a god, and a mere... what were you even? You did not remember. You didn't care.

All that mattered was that you were happy and in love with Lucifer. And he with you.

Your guardian angel.

Your True Savior.

Your true love.

Lucifer.

. . . . .

You have reached the True Ending. But there is an alternate timeline and an alternate happy ending, which goes much better for most people... but it turns into a 6 X Reader (and it's out)

I'm sorry if this looks terribly rushed :( (also this was written so long ago and i forgot to post the third part here)

[opheliajupiter99]

A Word to the Wise Pt. 1

It was late, terribly too late to be up and about in the Feywild, the faint flickering flames of the campfire fading into the distance as a long Gatorfolk walked aimlessly. He was circling around near the camp, trying to tire himself out enough to get back to sleep. It was hardly the first time Kremy had startled awake from a paranoia induced nightmare, and it surely wouldn't be the last.

He walked and walked, counting his steps to make sure he was still near the camp, sighing softly to himself as he rose up his snout to peer at the sky. The stars shined softly, dotted across the sky. The sight gave him some comfort at least; for as different as the Feywild was, the sky was the same, for the most part anyways.

He continued to walk, until something out of the corner of his eye made him stop abruptly. He looked to the tree line and squinted. He could've sworn...no, he must've been imagining it. He swore he saw the edges of a top hat, the wearer seeming to dart out of sight once he spotted him; but it -had- been raining earlier...perhaps he just saw his reflection amongst the leaves?

He shook his head and looked forward once more, continuing on despite the nagging feeling something was wrong. But he quickly began to notice the edges of his vision blurring, he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand thinking perhaps he was tearing up, but was met with the realization his sight was only fogging more...

But...no. It wasn't his -vision- fogging. It was the air ITSELF fogging. A chill ran down his spine, backing up instinctively, and as he backed up, his clawed foot snagged on something, and he tumbled backwards with a yelp of surprise. He blinked blearily, seeing small, blurry forms beginning to crowd around him amongst the fogs.

Voodoo dolls. So, so many of them, clawing their way from the wet soil like dead rising from their graves, as the rumbles of ominous jazz began to flow through the air. The cloth skin of the dolls stitched and stained with dirt, their wide button eyes staring into the depths of his soul, wielding needles as they approached with eternal, stitched grins.

He opened his mouth to speak, but only a sob came forth, tears quickly stinging the corners of his eyes. He tried to get his muscles to move, but his bones felt frozen in place as the realization of his damnation quickly set in. He wanted to fight, he wanted to argue, he tried to get his mouth to move or legs to spring up...but Gods, what was the point?! As much as he tried to cling to hope, he knew what these sights meant, he knew how hopeless any attempt to scream or beg was. He might as well already be dead.

Then heavy footsteps came, squishing through the mud, until the tall figure loomed over Kremy. Mr. Garou, his form only illuminated by the glowing pair of dice that floated just above his open palm, his cold gaze looking down at Kremy with almost a look of disappointment.

"I thought ya'd make it a bit longer, Kremy." He said, his tone a mocking fatherly one. "Ah well." He said with a shrug and a devilish smirk. "A hundred more where ya came from, boy." Kremy just stared up at him, mouth hanging slightly agape as tears flowed down the corners of his eyes. He steeled himself with a deep breath. "P-Please...please sir, I...I-I just need a bit more time." Garou merely scoffed. "Ya got any idea how many times I've been told dat? And ya know how many times that actually -worked-?" He barked a laugh.

Kremy couldn't help but whimper, bringing his hands up to cover his eyes, not able to bare witnessing whatever fate the man had in store. He heard Garou laugh, and the doll's needles scrape against each other, as if to sharpen them, then-

"Kremy! Whatcha doin' out here?" Came Gideon's voice. Kremy's body only scrunched more, at the idea of Gideon having to witness this. "Gid, I-I'm sorry, just go back-" He stopped mid-sentence as he uncovered his eyes. It...it was all gone. The fog, the dolls - Mr. Garou. Had he been sleepwalking? Gideon walked up to him and knelt down, holding out his hand. "Ya trip or somethin', buddy?"

Kremy opened his mouth, prepared to ask Gid if he'd seen any of that, but quickly closed it again. Of course he hadn't; it wasn't real. It was just a night terror, or...or he was starting to crack up. Whichever it was, it wasn't Gid's problem. He cleared his throat as he pulled back to his feet. "Y-Yeah, yeah, was just tryin' to walk off a nightmare, that's all. Let's head back."

Gid's brow furrowed a bit, knowing him well enough to know something was wrong, but decided not to press it for now. He patted him on the back, before the pair started to walk off, Kremy sneaking a paranoid peek over his shoulder, as he could've sworn, he saw the thin string of a balloon float through the tree line and out of sight.

[philly-interlude]

[3:07 AM]

w: dramatic (i.e crying, sobbing, insecurity(?))

"who's that woman?" you cut him off mid-sentence, him freezing at the question, "chenle i'm asking you a question" your eyes didn't leave the ground. unnoticeably, chenle took a deep breath before answering, "she's no one, y/n, she-" his words were cut off once again when you snapped your head up to look directly into his eyes, his shaking eyes.

"no one? no one?! chenle- you bloody kissed that woman which i saw with my own aching eyes! you..." shook your head disbelieving the scene you saw earlier, your tears ricocheted, more massive this time, "why? what got into your mind that you did that chenle?!" you yelled.

"i was drunk" chenle excused, "drunk?! i know you when you're hell drunk chenle zhong. drunk?! you are obviously sober, sober as- as a son of a gun!" you wanted to curse so bad as you hit him hard on his chest where his beating heart was, the heart where you don't even know if you're still there.

you sobbed hardly, feeling your soul crumble upon love, your tears never stopped streaming down your reddened cheeks. "what did i do wrong? what do i lack of?" almost like a whisper, you looked at him in the eyes, "tell me chenle. did i do something wrong that's why you did that? am i that ugly that you found another girl? do i lack of the things you wanted? what, because i, too, don't know the reason!"

chenle sighed, "you are too sensitive for my liking, i just realized" he briefly explained, yet little that you know, his heart was breaking apart. you looked down with a bitter smile, "then i'm sorry. i'm sorry for being born weak, i'm sorry for the type of girl i grow into, i- i'm sorry..." he hates seeing you cry, he does, but how can he alleviate the pain especially because of the scene you saw?

rain started pouring from the night sky, the man in front of you wanting to comfort and embrace you with care and tenderness, nonetheless, his mind controlled his body. in the middle of the pouring rain, you spoke your heart out.

"y/n it's fucking raining-" he urged, his hands grabbing your arm, but you didn't budge which made him stand back in front of you, "i didn't know why i decided to love you back and love you more than you know. all i perceived was i wanted to try and see if love could make me strong, however, love had just made me weaker" you mumbled.

slowly, you looked up at him. "what about you? have you become weak when you actually loved me? or...did you not really love me?" it only told the truth when he grabbed the back of your neck as he kissed you passionately.

[itjazzbicch]

Lurking Madness

Pairing: Bryan Fury x Cyborg!Reader 

Summary: Working with Lars and Jin's allies in the war, the reader becomes a cyborg to avoid death, and with the war ending, they are all hoping to achieve peace. Since the reader is now a cyborg, they're placed on a mission to take out the cyborg, Bryan Fury, and their fight doesn't go exactly as they thought it would...

Warnings: Lots of fighting! (lol) reader is struggling with emotions (GN!Reader as well!)

Word Count: 1.k 

"Target acquired. Moving in..." Now that the war was over, it was time to spread peace worldwide. I knew that there would always be something that I'd have to watch and take care of, that now being this psychopath with inhuman strength. "Stay back. Things might get a little crazy."

Bryan Fury. A psycho who was creating havoc everywhere he stepped foot. I was the only person who could take this mission as we had something in common: how I could parallel his inhuman strength. We were both cyborgs.

It seemed like I caught attention from the top of the building I was standing on in this destroyed city, jumping straight to the ground as I saw his piercing eyes locked on me.

"Bryan Fury..." Cracking my knuckles, I knew there was no avoiding a fight; cracking my neck next, "Your time of wreaking havoc is-"

Mid-sentence, he just laughed at me, taking a metal beam that curled around my body as he struck me with it, leaving not so much as a scratch.

His eyes widened at the sight of the beam curling. Meanwhile, I stood perfectly still, my eyebrows curling as I scoffed:

"Was that supposed to hurt?"

"Oh, I see..." He chuckled at first, his soft laughs turning into psychotic cackles. He knew I was no ordinary person, and we were about to cause hell on earth with just our fists.

"I'm going to put a stop to you," I spoke calmly, taking my stance as he laughed, throwing out a punch that I met with my own, and when our fists collided, full of unimaginable strength, a shockwave sending whipping winds, the ground crumbling beneath our feet as our power canceled each other's out.

I knew this wouldn't be an easy fight, and I needed to focus and pinpoint weak spots to take this monster down for good. I couldn't deny that he was strong, but so was I, my blood pumping hard as I finally found someone who could put up a fight against me.

Time didn't seem to exist despite all the blows we exchanged, using the elements around us, and I thought that I had the advantage till he dodged one of my kicks, sending a massive punch that sent me flying clear into a destroyed building, straight into a pile of rubble.

"Y/N? Are you okay? We don't have eyes!" My comrades in the chopper were still watching over me, talking through my earpiece."

"Don't you dare interfere!" I growled back, tossing the earpiece into the rubble, my eyes lighting up as Bryan was walking menacingly towards me, a smile growing on my face as he did.

Whenever I died and became a cyborg, I felt numb inside, constantly fighting the darkness in the back of my mind, but for once?

I felt so alive.

Emerging from the pile of rubble, my smile grew the closer Bryan inched towards me, growing to be wicked, my body whole of this energy that I never felt before.

"You come back for more?!" I couldn't hold it in, sending out a punch with a sinister laugh that made the entire building collapse.

One benefit to being a cyborg? I didn't have to worry about getting injured, but I was confused when all the rubble fell around me; seeing Bryan's piercing eyes through the smoke, his voice dulled from the noise surrounding us, feeling his grip on my wrist.

"You're this powerful and decide to be someone's puppet?"

"What do you know?" I scoffed, trying to snatch my arm back, but his eyes haunting, practically glaring into my soul, "You don't know a damn thing about me!"

"I can tell you've never been more alive than you have been now..." He smirked as if seeing me this way turned him on or something.

"Shut up," I gritted through my teeth, gripping his arm and swinging before throwing him clear into the sky, almost sounding like him as I started laughing, charging up a punch to hit him with till I froze at his laughter and the sight of fire from the chopper coming down at me.

I didn't know why, but I was smiling, in awe, both of us laughing as the fire consumed us but didn't dare to burn us.

Why did I feel this way? This overflowing feeling inside of me was too much to keep inside. Maybe it was just the thrill of a good fight? At least that was a theory, but it felt like fate when I met those blue eyes highlighted by the red rings of fire.

Those emotions were always within me; they were dormant until this human wrecking machine pulled them straight out of me.

"What?" I panted softly, cocking my eyebrow with a smirk, "Are we just going to fight forever?"

"And destroy the world while we're at it, haha!"

This guy truly only cared for destruction, which was appealing to me at that moment for some reason. Still, I found a way to get a grip on myself, my scanner quickly finding another enemy chopper, my thirst for action still getting one last outburst as I picked up one of the many steel beams in the lumps of destruction, noticing that Bryan had one too, tossing our beams like javelins and taking down the chopper at the same time.

We quickly looked at one another, smirks on our faces as he began to laugh:

"I think I'm starting to like you."

"Or are you just trying to avoid the fact that I might be able to beat you?" I teased with confidence all over my face.

"We're more alike than you think." There went that look in his eyes again; it was like they could see right through me, and I couldn't understand the madness he could pull out of me.

If I stayed here any longer, we'd fight for days and probably destroy the land we stood on. So, I turned my head from him, technically retreating, but I needed a moment to process the feeling that took over me during our fight and get my head back on straight.

"I'll admit, you put up one hell of a fight," I mumbled, walking away, not feeling the wicked look in my eyes as I glared back at him, "But you haven't seen the last of me." 

2024 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome 

[zylian]

The idea of possession (thx quix) has fueled so many thoughts omfg

Imagine a s4 au where Ash, Spoke & Vitalasy can possess each other

They learn each other’s personality and possess the other when they need to alter stuff throughout the season

There would probably be a bunch of moments when Mapicc would stop talking mid sentence as Vitalasy possesses Spoke

Vitalasy never knows where the base is, willingly telling Subz & Zam not to tell him just to spite Spoke after he got possessed and Spoke lounged in his body in the first base for days while leaving him with no food & 20k blocks out

Ashswag gets super nauseous during possession so he only does it when necessary, he can also knock the others out from possessing his body

Spoke loves messing with Vitalasy but once possessed him at a bad time where Zam was stabbing Vitalasy to death over an argument and Spoke couldn’t explain it was him and had to tank the death

More:

Vitalasy possessed Spoke to give himself another barrel and he immediately placed it down so Spoke couldn’t possess him and take it back but Spoke just went back to blow it up

Mapicc recognizes all of them during possession but he openly tries to talk to the possessor, very unhinged, immediately berating them with questions or rants depending on his mood

Subz recognizes all of them during possession but he doesn’t say it. He plays along until the possessor realizes he knows and sometimes it takes days for them to realize and they just apologize out of embarrassment

Mapicc questions Spoke when he returns but he gets nauseous during repossession so he gets a headache on top of it

Spoke possesses Vitalasy during an eclipse meeting with Planet and gets recognized immediately by Planet. Subz shuts the meeting down and kicks Planet out before Planet starts asking questions while Zam is completely unaware

Vitalasy is still able to possess Spoke when he gets banned which scares everyone, they realize they would have to ban all three to solve everything which no one wants to go through the effort for.

Zam can’t tell when someone is possessed the entire time, he only tells when the player gets repossessed and realizes he was not talking to whoever he thought he was talking to

Bacon NEVER witnessing any possessions or repossessions so he thinks Planets crazy

Ashswag only possesses Spoke/Vitalasy to stop them from going too crazy/ too far, he possesses Spoke to restrain him and possesses Vitalasy to sleep in a comfortable base

Jaron witnessing Ash’s repossession with Planet but siding with Bacon just to cause drama

Anytime Planet asks a possessor questions they want to leave the body but the last time they did, Planet had to help the person repossessing their body which didn’t end well

Spoke and Ash gamble with each other when they are possessing Vitalasy cause if he’s with Zam they are risking way too much, if he’s with Planet it’s not worth it but if he’s with Subz they can just relax and not care about acting like Vitalasy

Mapicc refuses to kill Spoke when Vitalasy is possessing him cause of the pain of dealing with Spoke during repossession so he just angrily messages Vitalasy who’s being possessed by Spoke until he returns

One time Ashswag possessed Spoke when Mapicc was around fighting Subz and Mapicc was on really bad terms so he just stopped the fight and asked Subz to make Ashswag leave. It was too awkward so Ash left but then they both had to deal with Spokes repossession

Subz realized way too late that Mapicc is also harassed with the possessions at the same time as him cause Vitalasys soul has to go somewhere when Spoke shows up

Zam has dealt with all 3 of them recovering from repossessing so often he started carrying splash health pots so they wouldn’t immediately collapse from the nausea they get.

Roshambo gets super upset when he finds out he can’t be possessed or possess others so he stops caring about everything going on

So many serious moments can be ruined cause of possession- so many silly possibilities

fun

[riverfox99]

A Series of Firsts PT 1

Rating: M

Status: Incomplete - Part 2 to come

Word Count: 5k+

Tropes: height difference/kink, fluffy smut, first time together, body worship

Warnings: Adult themes = sexiness. Proof reading not happened yet.

Alternative reading spot: Defending Eden One-Shots - Chapter 1 - Uncannyannie23 - Original Work [Archive of Our Own]

Defending Eden

A Series of Firsts Part 1

The sun had started to set over London and her skyline, creating a stunning mosaic of oranges, pinks and blues – stubbornly holding on to the ebbing sky. The setting sun seemed to stand still, hesitant to retire and darkness take over. Beams of sheer light bursts across the city, breaking through gaps in architecture to flood the park in a beautiful, soft haze.

The park is where they ended up, taking a leisurely stroll following a day of activities in the city. Taking in the fragrant scent of the lush grass and trees, John and Everly took their time, neither one of them wanting the day to end. Gently strolling along the winding path, their arms were intertwined, careful to not to disturb the protected flowerbeds that were meticulously curated and cared for daily as they joked. The park was a peaceful, tranquil place, it was one of the few remaining places in London untouched by the turmoil of the outside world, so it was a welcome respite to the heinous truth. The only people besides themselves were a few joggers and dogwalkers, along with other couples like them and small groups of friends taking a break from the harsh realities they faced every day. This place had an atmosphere of serenity, as if a kind of spell had been cast over the area to protect it and put any occupants at ease.

John and Everly perched together on a bench nearby, resting their tired feet after a day of sightseeing. John gazed at the sky in awe, as if mesmerized by the streaking colours that painted the horizon. He could hear the hum of city coming alive with the bustling nightlife, replacing the sounds of birdsong and the indecipherable chatter of passers-by. The hustle and bustle of the city was a far cry from the peaceful stillness he felt now. He knew which made him feel more at peace.

Everly, sensing the awe in John's gaze, began to tell him stories of the wonders up in the heavens. Of the galaxies and stars beyond the reach of any human eye. Of the possibility of other lifeforms living in the vastness of space that waited for them, and of the secrets they might know and share with us.

She illustrated these possibilities into a spellbinding tale, like a true storyteller, with heart and soul. John was entranced, listening to Everly's stories with a childlike wonder. Her words captivated his imagination. He dreamt of exploring the depths of the unknown, his life a winding road of adventure and love. With her by his side, John felt like he could take any voyage. No matter how dangerous. To traverse the void in search of adventure, tackling any trials and taming any perils. And he would. He would do it all just to see her smile.

The charged static air and heavy scent of impending rain that rolled over him was unmistakable. Forcing John out of his trance. Though his heart resisted, his eyes were pulled to rolling thunderclouds that raced across the skyline. He heard a distant grumble that signalled an imminent downpour, and quickly reached for Everly's hand. She stopped her tale mid-sentence as he pulled them both to their feet, "we should get going," he looked around again, seemingly accessing the sky above as if to try and predict when the storm will hit them. Others too have noticed the shift in weather, and prepared themselves. Everly though, was still completely oblivious to the why everyone else seemed to suddenly be in such a hurry to leave. John found it hilarious, how someone so smart, who could regale the schematics of a passenger starship in great detail, or science behind why the terraforming of Marx failed some forty years ago, could not work out why others behaved the way that they do. As they continued on their path, John urged her to continue her sable, "please tell me more," he smiled down at her.

She grinned in response, seemingly developing a slight skip in her step. He found himself in awe of Everly, unable to comprehend where this endless vitality came from. He was sure that her stamina could outlast half the trained mercenaries under him at Legion HQ. He found himself imagining traversing an unknown world with her, in search for something they were not yet sure of when she suddenly gasped excitedly - bringing him back to the real world.

She rushed toward an eager alsation, only several months old with his owner to polite to pull away. Everly greeted both, having apparently met the pair before, Everly shameless got on her knees and fussed the excitable canine that returned her affections in earnest. John gave an amused sound, Everly stopped at just about every canine, or animal they came across. Her fascination with all life was envigorating.

In the meantime, John accessed the sky again and pulled a face. They did not have long before the heavens opened up. He scoured park, putting together the best course of action. He cursed the weather, and the passage of time for putting a deadline on their day. He knew that she was not ready to go, and frankly neither was he. For he knew, that when he returned to base, that he may not get the chance to see her again for a few weeks. Not yet. Just a bit more time. Please.

John turned his attention back to her and the puppy. He watched Everly with a smile on his face, marveling at the enthusiasm and energy she had for life - something he hadn't seen in years. He couldn't help but be inspired by her, and the way she was able to find joy in the smallest of things. He hadn't realized how much he had missed the simple beauty of life until now. She had led a very sheltered life, not knowing much beyond the UN facilities where she was raised alongside other children children whose parents worked there. There was much she had only read about, and not truly experienced for herself. After much convincing from her dads and colleagues, she finally decided to let herself explore the outside world. Despite the horrors of the slow climate apocalypse, she found wonder.

The owner of the puppy politely excused himself, in a hurry to get home in hopes to escape the impending onslaught of rain that was to come. Everly waved goodbye to the puppy who did not want to leave her. She stood then, doubling over to brush the dirt off her knees. Her floral skirt flapping as she did so. John internally smirked, giving a chuckle as he waited for her. He could not admit to her to crude thoughts that invaded the darker crevices of his mind - the notion angered him, how dare he make something so sweet and innocent into something so impure. This was not the first time, he had thought of her often, when he was alone in the dead of night awaiting sleep in his bunk.

A wide grin spread across her face as she tucked loose strands of fiery red hair behind a speckled ear. Outstretching her hand and wiggling her fingers, she motioned for him to join her. “He was the last one I swear!”

“Now, now! Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he laughed as he allowed her to pull him in. Animals and people were just drawn to her; she had a magnetic power about her. He was no different, for he too succumbed to her enchantment, willingly. He desperately wanted to give her the world, and shield her from anything that could do her harm. For she was beacon of light in this dying world that needed to be protected at all costs. "We should go, it's going to chuck it down and you'll get all soaked." She wasn't exactly dressed for what was to come, she wore a floral dress with tights and a cardigan - her signature look.

The deafening sound of the downpour announced itself before he felt it's chill. He had no time to prepare before they were completely drenched. The rain came down like bullets, Everly raised her hands in shock at the onslaught. John threw off his leather jacket and draped it protectively over her. The heavy apparel threatened to swallow her whole, but it was far more welcoming than what it shielded her from. She clung to the garment with a mixture of gratitude and confusion, unsure why John would allow himself to stand exposed to the elements in his simple, dark grey tee. His face twisted as he strained to see through the downpour, desperately in search of something that could shelter them both, or at least her.

He could just make out the blur of colour, greens, yellows, reds and blues of playground equipment that acted as a guide through the blurred grey. The childrens play area was at the edge of the park roughly four hundred yards when where they stood, that he was sure. Fantastic, it would get them closer to the road. And just to the right of the park, was their saving grace. An old, traditional bandstand.

John guided Everly through the rain with a strong hand on her back as they raced towards the bandstand. The thunderous rain pounding his skin threatening to bruise. The pavement quickly turned to a shallow river as the excess water could not be soaked up by sodden dirt fast enough. The water hurtled down against them matching the slight decline of the park. Their shoes slapped against the racing water, splashing muddy water up their legs.

It did not take them long to reach the shelter. He steered her towards it, thankful that she was not at the full mercy of the pelts that hammered his muscled back. He took her hand and guided her up the six concrete stairs that had grown slippery from the rain - careful to ensure she did not slip.

The bandstand had a large bell like leaky roof with an incomplete canopy of ancient slate tile. The roof was supported by an array of interwoven struts that criss-crossed in abstract webs and appeared to have been cared for some time. The white paint was peeling, revealing dark, almost rotten wood beneath. In need of repair as it was, for now it provided ample shelter for them both.

John ran a strong hand down his left arm, ringing the water off that clung to him. He immediately tapped the iconic black square on his wrist. This triggered a blue hologram to appear above the mark, one that only he could see - the irises of his eyes glowed with the fluorescent blue of the hologram. A sign that someone was using this technology. Everly watched as she lowered the jacket to her shoulders, freeing her head from its shadow. The water from the jacket dripped with a small ping, creating tiny puddles around her. Now free from the rain, his scent from the jacket flooded her senses, a mix of leather, a rich spicy vanilla and his natural musk. She leaned back against one of the many struts as she waited for John to finish his task.

It didn't take him long before he blinked, returning his eyes to their regular steel grey. He smiled at her, "I've ordered a pod to pick us up. I know you don't leave far, but I can't have you walking in this. It won't be long"

"Me? What about you? You are exposed, I would hate it if you were to catch a cold because you gave me your jacket." She took him in properly then. He was a work of art. The soft cotton of his shirt was saturated from the rain, clinging to him like a second skin, revealing the hard ridges of his chest and hips. He was a statue of power and perfection. His biceps flexed and pushed against the hem of the short sleeves, straining to break free. She could see every little crevice and rise of the sculpted muscle. He was an embodiment of strength. He looked like a demigod.

"I don't matter-"

She scoffed, "don't be silly!"

He gave her a one-sided smile and chuckled, taking a step closer to her. His gaze never leaving hers, a million thoughts rushing through his mind as his eyes flickered over her petite form drowning his dark jacket. The sight of it hanging on her like this, her hair damp and her lips pursed; made him take steps towards her, until he was leaning over her, mere inches apart. Her body felt like it was on fire. She had never experienced this before, was it because of the heat that radiated off of him? Or was it simply because she was out of the rain? His eyes were like a lightening strike in a storm, mesmerising, yet dangerous. She was aching for something. But what? It did not take her long to realise that she ached for this man that loomed in front of her.

His arm went up to rest against the beam above her head, so he could lean in further, she craned her neck up to match. They could feel each others breath.

John bites his lip, his gaze flickering between her bright green orbs and her lips. Those luscious lips of hers had tempted him since the first time they met in the dreaded Red Zone. After months of dating - mostly virtually- he had yet to sample them. Could he…now? Is this the right time? Her grin had dropped, leaving her mouth slightly open as she found herself entrapped in his steelly gaze. Her heart raced as she dared peek to his lips, then back up. She could feel the electric charge between them as they both knew what was going to happen next. She may not have much experience with this kind of thing herself, but she had been made to consume romance/rom-com media by her more friendly colleagues.

He took this as a subtle sign that she wanted what he did. He raised a large, calloused hand to her smooth face. His thumb gently caressed her cheek, while his palm rested on her neck and his fingered got entangled in her damp hair. John leaned in, his lips only a breath away from hers. Her heart was pounding and her knees were trembling but she forced herself to keep still. She did not realise how much she wanted this.

John had to do this, no matter how worried he was to scare her off. He had to make the first move.

He brushed her lips lightly with his, exploring the contours of her mouth as if he was afraid of breaking it. His touch was gentle and caring, yet passionate and burning with desire. She melted in his arms as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth hungrily.

Time held still and they were transported in a world of their own. His hands were running through her hair and down her neck, tracing the curves of her body as if to commit them to memory. She felt a shudder run through her body as if electricity had surged through her veins. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. Her lips moved in sync with his, tasting and exploring every inch of his mouth.

It felt like a dream as John's lips moved against hers and how he held on to her as if he was scared to lose her. She allowed herself to melt in his arms and she wanted to stay there forever, their kiss and this moment never ending.

A loud bleep notification from John's Square, and the sounds of a whizzing pod coming to a halt snapped them out of their trance. He slowly and begrudgingly pulled away from her, his lips still lingering on hers, "looks like our ride is here."

Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled up at him, marveling at the power of the connection they had just shared. She felt the strength of their bond, like an invisible thread holding them together, and knew in that moment that no matter what happened, she would always feel this connection with him.

She blushed and felt a little silly for getting so carried away. She was a world reknowned astro-scientist with multiple areas of expertise, and here she was getting swept off her feet by a private soldier.

John seemed to understand her feelings and he smiled softly, holding her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze."Shall we go?" He asked and then quickly added with a cheeky raised brow and smirk, "Unless you'd like to stay here a longer..."

She shook her head and laughed at his goofiness. She knew that they had to verify with the pod quickly, otherwise it may get called off for someone else. Everly allowed John to lead her to the awaiting pod, using the same method of hiding under his jacket in a sad attempt to protect herself from getting any more wet.

The pod was a driverless vehicle that was used as a modern replacement for taxis. It was a cheap and private alternative. The glistening white sphere whose hovering shell illuminated beneath the dreary rain. Even in the gloom and darkness of the city night, it was easy to pick out among the surrounding concrete and steel – a glimmering beacon of modernity.The pod door slide open as John and Everly approuched. It was big enough that the average human could stand in it, however John had to hunch over so as not to bang his head.

They sat on the white bench inside, a holographic screen popped up that showed the news but John promptly waved it off. Not wanting to dampen their cheery vibes with bleek world news. John made the notion for the pod door to slide shut, and it has commanded. The only thing inside the pod was the bench they sat on, and the walls were made of a one-way, translucent material that enabled them to see the outside world without being seen themselves.

Inside the pod, they sat quietly, their hands entwined and enjoying the silence between them. The lights from the holograms outside gave her the excuse she needed to hide her flushed cheeks. She swore, that is he saw her blush this much than her cheeks would burn even hotter! She found herself unable to stop smiling. The moment was perfect and she turned to look at John, only to find him already staring at her. He smiled and said, "I could get used to this."

Everly nodded, "me too." Their eyes locked once again and they both felt the tension build between them. But before anything could happen, the pod came to a halt, announced their arrival to their chosen destination and the door slid open. They laughed at the comedic value of having another moment ruined by the same vehicle. With hands still interlocked, and they stepped out into the busy street.

The rain had finally stopped, leaving the city slick with water and reflecting the bright lights of the surrounding buildings. They walked together, their feet splashing in the puddles as they made their way towards the entrance of the Everly's apartment building. Everly looked up at John, a smile on her face, "Thank you for today. It was...amazing."

John's heart swelled with pride at her words. He had planned this whole day meticulously, hoping that it would be just perfect for her, "I'm glad you enjoyed it." As they approuched the building, the automated doors swooshed open, John gave a deep gesture for her to enter first, putting on a silly voice as if he was a medieval knight, "after thee, ladies go first..."

She played along - putting an exaggarated hand on her chest and fluttered her eyelashes, "why thank you kind sir! Such a gentleman!" She giggled as he came in after her, tickling and prodding playfully as they headed towards the elevator. Her apartment was several floors up, and had previously scoffed at the notion of taking the stairs when he had suggested it. The elevator opened up to tiny hallway with two doors, one of which belonged to her.

She backed out of the elevator, an unmistakable smirk on her face as she looked at John with a devilish gaze. He couldn't help but find it amusing, but also magmatisied. This was usually the point at which they said their goodbyes, but today was different. Their kiss was passionate and intense. They had stoked an already burning flame.

His body seemed to pulse with a new kind of energy, a forbidden and irresistible desire that had never been ignited before. He wanted nothing more than to break their carefully erected boundaries and surrender to the burning passion that seemed to course through him. The mere thought of her sweet lips sent a wave of heat coursing through his veins. His restraint was weakening, and he ached to feel her against him, to experience the ultimate transcendence.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him to her door, his heart racing in anticipation. He suddenly felt overwhelmed with the smell of her perfume and the softness of her skin as her fingers curled around his damp collar. His lips instantly ached for hers, but it was Everly that made the first move this time. She overstretched herself up and pulled him down to reach his lips halfway. He drew her closer, his hands moved to her waist, steadying them both. John's forehead bumped with the door as they feverishly kissed. She fumbled for the fingerprint panel on the wall, her attention more fixated on this godlike man. With a soft bleep, the door clicked open and she swrung it open with the heel of her boot.

Forcing a break in the kiss, she took a step back into her apartment. Gazing up at him with pleading eyes that seemed to say "please don't leave", and he could hardly bring himself to take one step away from her. He could almost predict what was going to happen and the dilemma tore him apart. "Do...do you want to come in?" his heart pounded yes, over and over against his ribcage - but his better judgement held him back. He was terrified of going too far, too quickly, and he treasured her too much to just give in to the impulse. Noticing his hesitance, she tried to tempt him further, she bit her lower lip, swaying slightly and taking another step back - as if to lure him in, "we can kiss some more," she cooed.

Fuck. What was she doing to him? "Ahhh!" His voice trembled, as he tried to keep his composure. "If I come in...it'll start with just kisses, then full on making out...and then it'll get late, and I'll end up staying. Which will then turn into making out in the bedroom and...ugh..." His heart raced and his mind filled with thoughts of them tangled in sheets, locked in embrace. His cheeks heated as he looked away from her, his throat dry. He ran his hand over the back of his neck, uncomfortable with how his body was reacting to her. He rambled, his words desperate and full of fear of getting hurt, or worse, hurting her. He was honest, his gaze steady and deep into hers as he spoke, "I've rushed into things before and they...well they don't end well." He sighed, wondering how he ended up in this position. "I don't want to mess this up. I do want this, I really, really do. I just - I want to make sure you know what you want...I want to do things properly this time I guess."

She finished his sentence with a sad smile, "you want to make sure we don't rush into this too quickly." His words felt like a bucket of cold water, was this what rejection felt like? She was taken aback by his thoughtful worries, they were strange to her and not at all like what she was told to expect - John was seldom like what her colleagues told her to expect about men. "Do I get a say in this?" she tilted her head, her brows furrowing in worry.

He looked into her eyes, feeling a stab of guilt for the hesitation in his own. "Of course. You tell me to go, I'll go. You tell me to stay, I'll stay."

"Then stay..."

The breath he didn't even know he was holding escaped his throat. A weight lifted from his shoulders and he took small steps towards her. Placing a hand on her hip, he reached back with the other to absentmindly swing the door closed - but not fully satisifed until he heard the familiar click of the lock engaging. She gasped as he leaned in and their lips met. His tongue slipped into her mouth and their tongues swirled together in a tantalizing dance. As she wrapped her arms around his neck, almost hoisting herself up to kiss him properly. His large arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her. Taking all of the effort off of her.

Their kisses were hot and feverish. It was like they had been starved for weeks, and were finally given a feast. It was assault on their senses. The lust they have for each other made the hairs on Everly's arms stand on end - or was that just from the cold damp cardigan?

A small whimper escaping her mouth as she was pressed against the wall. He broke the kiss, but he didn't pull away, he rested his forehead against hers and his half-lidded eyes were staring at her swollen lips. His breathing was heavy and ragged, "what are you doing to me?"

He pressed into her, her body melted against him. Her skin was covered by goose bumps, chilled from where the night air had crept into the corners of the room. She took a deep breath and smiled, "I could ask the same..." John chortled.

He had a light smile of contentment, but his brows furrowed - what inner battle was he currently facing? John's large hand came up to her neck, his thick fingertips tickled her jaw, his thumb carressing her bottom lip. He took in a sharp breath and inched closer as Everly's fingers buried themselves in short, inky black hair. "You are so beautiful," he murmured, his voice was quiet and dense that Everly wasn't sure if she had heard him correctly. But it still made the air hitch in her throat. His mouth crashed on to hers with a sudden urgency, and pulled her closer. She did not how it was possible. He let out a feral groan as her nails dug into his scalp, igniting a fire within him. His hands moved over her body, eliciting moans of pleasure from her as his mouth devoured hers.

John’s mouth veered off and trailed her jaw, devouring her neck as he let himself be swept away by the fervor of passion. His judgement clouded by the moans and caresses she awarded. He felt wild; ravenous. He was losing any part of himself that made him honourable. He used a knee between her legs to prop her up higher against the wall, and guided her legs that instinctively wrapped themselves around his hips. His hands were now free to roam her body - taking in her plush curves with wild abandon. She was a petite, pear shaped woman with a small bosom but voluptuous hips and butt for him to cling to. Her generous thighs promised hot nights to come; he could envision those milky, freckled thigh wrapped around his head.

His lips were like a wildfire, burning a trail from her earlobe down her neck and over her exposed shoulder. His lips left a scorching path of wet, fiery kisses, nipping and sucked at her sensitive skin, causing bursts of sparks to ripple through her body.

“John…” she muttered, her voice barely audible. He was so engrossed in his own actions that it took two attempts to get his attention. On the second try, she patted his back, forcing him out of this trance, he looked up in dismay. He took her in, carefully examining her to make sure she was all right.Shit. Did I go too far?

Still flush against the wall, she looked disheveled and trembling, her cardigan and the straps of her floral dress had slipped off, leaving freckled shoulders bare. Her deep crimson hair hung in wild tendrils around her flushed cheeks -delightful-, her swollen lips parting tentatively as she struggled to form a coherent sentence. "I-I don't really know what to do," she stuttered, her eyes wide and searching for an answer that she couldn't quite find.“Well, I kinda…erm…it’s…ahh.”

Fuck. Had he gone too far? He had never stopped to think that perhaps...perhaps she had never done it before. Stupid! Fucking idiot! She wasn’t experienced in most things, or well, anything that didn’t involve the UN facility and her work. Her experience with the real world and people were virtually non-existent. It was no mystery that teenagers, and young adults that grew up in places like that did things to experiment, or even just pass the time or rebel. Not her though it seems, she was different.

He wanted to reassure her, to put away all her fears and doubts, that they will do only what she wanted, when she wanted it – but right this instance, he needed to put distance between them and let her use her voice. John moved his leg, easing her to the ground and giving her some space to collect her thoughts. The cold air rushed over her small frame, causing a shiver that shook her, as she felt the absence of his embrace. John pulled up her dress straps, and covered her shoulders with the damp wool before taking her chin in his hands and kissed her forehead tenderly. “I’m sorry…I got carried away,” he whispered, his brows furrowed deep with regret and remorse at the concept of hurting her. “Was it too much? I was too much. I did something you didn’t like, what –“

“Oh God,” she pushed a hand to her face, her cheeks were burning and her head spinning from the riveting kiss that they’ve shared, “no! You didn’t do anything wrong! It was just…I don’t know….” she groaned. She took a deep breathe and forced out her admissions of naivety “I have done it before…a couple of times. It wasn’t exactly good. But I was young and dumb. I just, don’t really know, it was a long time ago. it’s just that I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now,” She seemed to hide within herself, fidgeting with the long sleeves of her pale cardigan but her eyes pleaded with him.

She was so cute, that John couldn’t help but smile a little. Her words were sweet and innocent. He held her chin in his hands and kissed her forehead tenderly. “It’s all right, Freckles. We can take it slow if you want.” He softly ran his thumb over her bottom lip to soothes them.

Embarrassed by her confession, Everly shrunk into the oversized wool. It had been over ten years since Everly indulged herself in the affairs of arsousal that ordinary people delved into what she always thought of a waste of time. When she had tried it initially, with a boy her age at eighteen, it had not been a good experience for her. But she could not deny the raw, natural feeling that John made her feel. She was aware enough to realise that John was not the same man, someone who was older and wiser. She also understood that she and John had much deeper connection with than the fleeting partner of her youth.

She scoffed and grasped at his wrist, "I still want this..." her other hand tightened on his wet tee, water seeping out between her fingers. "I know I'm inexperienced, but...ugh!" she dropped her hands in defeat, frightened at the prospect of being rejected by him. Her coworkers had insinuated that it would be a dealbreaker for a lot of potential partners, but before now, the worry had never crossed her mind. Her next words almost send him into a thirst-fuelled coma, "what I do know-I know I want you. Like, right now. I just need a lead."

[wellfell]

 a sweet nod of agreement is just a show of her excitement as he finally engulf her in his arms . pale hands press on his firm chest , kissing him back while tightening her grip on his shirt . some strands of her black hair separate from under his grip when he leans in and she , leans back with a small grin . her breath catches in her throat , she doesn't necessarily feel the way sharp fangs pierce her flesh but she does feel that it's not quite ordinary — did they really agree on biting ? though the ecstasy doesn't let her think straight , she's arching into him with a breathy call of his name .

 feeling a little lightheaded , gripping onto him like the only rope that keeps her grounded . akina's eyes open to see the wall behind him , rolling back again when he kisses the spot that's a little too sensitive now . blacker tides probe her senses , something inhuman , her intoxicated mind tells her it's probably because it's an old house and whatever she feels is a mere case of normal paranormal activity . nothing to worry about , sometimes they're just there and they don't harm anyone . she tells herself , silently , and pulls away to look at him with darkened eyes . her hand instinctively goes to her neck , feels the spot his teeth bit , but nothing abnormal touches the pads of her fingers . ❛ i thought you . . . ❜  stopping herself mid sentence , with a breath of a chuckle leaving plump lips as she shook her head . shook the irrelevant thoughts off her mind as she pinned him back against the couch with both hands .

 ❛ you do like biting . don't you ? ❜  skirt hitched up past creamy thighs , shifting slightly to straddle him better . something inhuman swims around his soul , and his soul doesn't quite feel as warm . she tilts her head with a growing frown , thumb rubbing under his jaw before she leans in to suffocate the thoughts of paranormal running around her head . slips her warm hand under his chest , finding it as cold as other parts of his body . and the firmness of his abs , drawing a pleased hum from her before she pulls away to get rid of her own tank top . black locks falling messily on bare shoulders , necklace glinting under the dim light . along with her crooked smirk . ❛ you can bite again . . . ❜  easily rolling her hips against him as she tilts her head to whisper in his ear ; ❛ i liked it . ❜

akina moves as if entranced, but he knows it can't be anything but unadulterated lust and alcohol influencing her because he hasn't used any disciplines. this has been as by the book for him as teddy can manage, trying to utilize all of his human traits instead of his supernatural advantages. his clan has a reputation for being soft-hearted human sympathizers, as well as singlehandedly giving vampires the narrative of being creatures that seduce their prey with beauty and lust. evidently, there was truth to every joke and rumor, because she's practically gagging for it on the ride over and teddy is once again tasked with maintaining a saintly amount of patience. it's made equal parts worse as well as better by stopping midway their journey up to his apartment to sneak in some kisses and titillating touches, giving her ass a playful squeeze before he unlocks the door. despite himself, he can't help but laugh at her reaction. "you know, i kind of agree. but my dad's not rich. i am," he clarifies, breaking away to let her explore before trailing after her a moment later. he pointedly ignores the question about his age. she'd get her answer, in time. akina's demand to be fed prompts a sharp-fanged grin to tug at plump lips, gaze darkening as he steps forward to brandish hands at her waist, lifting her up with ease and swapping their position so she was seated on his lap. teddy lets out a low hum, pretending to contemplate it as he grabs a palmful of her ass and leans forward to seal their lips together, calmly kneading the flesh. then, breaking apart to look her in the eyes. "not yet, angel. i'm going to eat you and fuck you first. would you like that too? and after that, i think you'll be needing fluids more than anything," he replies, cheeky. she'd almost caught on so many times. but now that they're alone, teddy takes the opportunity to thread fingers in her hair, tugging lightly to expose her neck before he leans in to press several heated kisses along the column of her throat. he's reverent in his ministrations, a mixture of tongue, lips and teeth -- then, sinks her fangs into her carotid. the kiss is supposed to bring ecstacy to those who are given it, his saliva acting as an analgesic for the puncture wound he's just created, tongue lapping over it in a broad stroke.