#i want to go back in time and relive the moment when he was still in earth and appreciate them but i cant | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prythianpages · 9 months ago

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In My Eyes | Azriel

Azriel x Rhysand's Sister | Summary: Azriel has lost you once and when unseen circumstances bring you back to life, he will not lose you again. Even if it means going against his family.

warnings: mentions of death (descriptive and a bit gruesome)/loss, angst 💔

a/n: I wanted to take a little break from all the fluff I've been writing so here's a little angst. I listened to Jacob's prayer from the Minari soundtrack a lot along with Thom Yorke's Hearing Damage while writing this. Hence the title bc I couldn't think of anything else lol and also because I feel like Az would be so down for his mate, she really could do no wrong in his eyes.

A haunting stillness permeates the air, broken only by the occasional whisper of Azriel’s shadows. He doesn’t know why he’s here. He wants to turn and leave but his legs betray his mind, prompting him to go forward. Cracked cobblestone paths lead him to the castle’s doors and as Azriel pushes the door open, it releases a loud groaning noise.

Inside Hybern’s castle, broken furniture lies scattered and the once opulent halls now echo with the sound of dripping water. His shadows stir uneasily. A sudden gust of wind brushes past him, carrying a pleading whisper along with it.

“Help me.”

Goosebumps rise on Azriel's skin as his shadows freeze in place. There was something familiar about that haunting plea that sent shivers down his spine.

“Azriel.”

"y/n," he breathes, the mere utterance causing his shadows to stir into a desperate frenzy. His steps quicken, evolving into a full-blown run, his heart pounding in sync with the frantic pace of his movements.

"y/n!" he calls out again, this time louder. His eyes, stinging with tears, frantically scanning the endless expanse of the haunted halls for any trace of you.

"Azriel, help me!"

Azriel runs and runs, but the hall stretches infinitely before him.

“Help! I’m al–”

And then, with a jolt, Azriel wakes.

Cold sweat clings to him like a second skin as the tendrils of the dream slowly release their grip on his consciousness. Your voice–it felt so real. But he knows it’s a dream because when he turns his head, the spot beside him is empty.

As it has been for centuries.

Azriel allows his heavy eyelids to flutter shut once more as he catches his breath. This was just another nightmare, he tells himself. It does nothing to soothe him. The more he thinks about it, the more unease grips him. Even his shadows are shaky, trembling as they brush against him.

For centuries, his dreams have been plagued by nightmares. It had always been the same one. The one that made him relive the moment he found out you were dead. Azriel had been the one to find the box that carried your mother’s severed head down Windhaven’s river and when he had spotted another box, all he found was a severed finger. A severed finger wearing a ring he was all too familiar with because he had been the one to place it on your finger.

Azriel remembers the way his heart had dropped to his stomach. He remembers the way he had desperately tugged on the bond only to find nothing but an eerie quietness on your end. He knew at that moment you were gone and you weren’t coming back.

The scream that tore through his throat was as violent as the gaping black hole crushing through his chest. It curdled the blood of anyone within earshot and had the surrounding birds jolting from their perches, their feathers rustling in a panicked flutter. Not even his shadows, who had carried him through his darkest times, could console him.

Azriel had no body to mourn. No hand to hold on to. No face to caress for the last time. He could only hope that your death had been quick and painless.

But this nightmare was new. Different. You were alive in this one. Or sounded like it.

Azriel opens his eyes and he brings himself to sit up in bed. His hands, weary and scarred, rub at his face in exhaustion, brushing away the lingering tears that sting at his eyes. He then looks down at his hands, aching to feel your warmth once more. Even if only in a dream.

The glimmering ring on Azriel's left hand sparkles under the tender caress of moonlight, drawing his attention. His trembling fingers trace the contours of the band. He can’t help but turn and twist it, yearning for a complete view of the engraved letters. It spells out your name and the ache of grief intensifies with every twist. He hasn’t taken the ring off since the day he married you, even after death did you part.

It compliments the smaller, daintier ring wrapped around his neck that hangs on a thin silver chain. Your ring. His name is engraved on it just as yours is on his. The only difference is that yours cradles a captivating cobalt blue gem. A precious fragment, crafted from his own siphon and meticulously refined by himself. He wanted you to carry a part of him wherever you went.

Now, he is left to carry it. The only piece he has left of you.

A poignant reminder that though death may have claimed you, the essence of your union lingers on. He can’t imagine loving anyone else. He doesn’t want to love anyone else. For him, it was you and only you. He could only thank the Mother for allowing him the time he had with you but also curse her for taking you from him.

His hand closes around your ring, grappling with the disorienting emotions coursing through him. Despite the centuries that have separated you, an instinctual yearning tugs at Azriel's core. He reaches out for the intangible thread that once connected you. He knows he’ll only receive the familiar void. It had been this way for ages. He’d wake from his nightmare, reach out with false hope and receive nothing in return.

Yet, this time, just like the nightmare he woke from, is different.

The shadows that hover over Azriel's shoulders, murmuring their soothing lullabies, suddenly cease in their dance. His eyes widen, capturing a glimmer of something long forgotten. Hope. It stirs within him, a dormant ember flickering to life after centuries of darkness.

For a fleeting moment, there's a response. A fragile shimmer through the bond. So delicate that it's almost imperceptible. And it’s coming from your side.

Azriel tugs again, cautiously and slowly. Anxiously and holding his breath. Even his shadows don’t dare to stir. But as he awaits another sign, silence envelops him. There’s no response.

He tugs again, desperately seeking confirmation. And then again and again. His tugs grow harsher, more desperate, each pull an urgent plea for any sign, any trace of you. Yet, the bond remains eerily silent, as if mocking the fragile tendrils of hope that dared to rekindle within him.

Maybe it was all a figment of his imagination.

But he swore he heard your voice, swore that tug, as faint as it was, was there. The crushing weight of loss descends once more, and it's as if he's losing you all over again. The echoes of hope vanish, leaving only a hollowing ache. His shadows begin to stir again, anxious to fill that hollowness in fear of the malevolent darkness that threatens to creep back inside and consume him all over again.

“No, no, no,” Azriel cries, his voice breaking into a mere whisper. With tear-streaked eyes, he looks up towards the moon, its ethereal glow filtering through the window on the ceiling.

“Please,” he says, beseeching the celestial body to heed his prayer.

Yet, the void persists and an overwhelming surge of fear takes hold, tightening its icy grip around him. Because though he thinks of you all the time, he’s beginning to forget the small details. Such as the exact shade of your eye, the radiant sparkle in your eyes as you’d smile at him, the comforting warmth of your laugh, the precise hue of blush that would grace your cheeks every time he told you he loved you.

He doesn’t want to forget. As painful as the memories are now, he wants to anchor himself into every single one of them. To hold onto the exquisite weight of every detail.

"Please," Azriel pleads once more. His body quivers with each sob, hunched over in bed, fingers tightly gripping his chest as if trying to anchor his unraveling soul. The shadows, usually under his control, writhe in a frenzied storm, mirroring the emotions swirling inside him. Some tendrils slither out from beneath the door, seeking out help.

It doesn’t take long for them to reach someone. Rhysand swiftly materializes in the room. "Azriel!" he calls out, a voice cutting through the tumult of emotions that cling to the air like heavy mist. “What’s wrong?”

"I heard her, Rhys," Azriel confesses through tearful sobs, his pain echoing in the shadows. "I felt her."

“What if she’s alive? I–I need to find her.”

Rhysand's heart plummets, a solemn gravity darkening his features. “She’s dead, Az,” he murmurs softly, tone laced with empathy. While Azriel lost his mate, Rhysand had lost his sister. He, too, mourns for you.

Azriel shakes his head in denial. “She needs me.”

Rhysand takes a deep breath, blinking back his own tears. He then turns toward the doorway, meeting Feyre’s wide eyes. She had rushed to the room along with him. "Please, get Cas," he tells her.

As Azriel secures his siphons, he stares down at his left wrist, where a lunar emblem is etched onto his tan skin. It had disappeared when you had died but now, it is vivid against his skin once more. He doesn’t know exactly when it had reappeared. He was binding his hands before a training session, weeks ago, when he noticed it. The reappearance of your mating tattoo carries with it the weight of the vows you had spoken to him.

“As long as I’m alive, I will love you with every breath.”

But you weren’t alive. You were still dead. After that night almost a year ago, Azriel had looked for you. Every night and day. For months. He was driving himself into pure madness, even his shadows had grown restless. There had been no more signs, no more traces of you but he still pushed on and he would’ve continued if Rhysand hadn’t forced him to stop.

“Are you ready?”

Azriel nods at Rhysand, securing the last of his weapon to his leathers. He then spares a glance toward Cassian, who is doing the same. It had been a long week of planning for this very moment.

Koschei initiated contact through a cryptic note delivered to Rhysand. The message proposed a meeting at the lake. A “peace” conference, he had called it. One that exclusively also required the presence of Cassian and Azriel. The terms were strange, but with dwindling options and time slipping away, Rhysand reluctantly consented.

"I'll be back before you know it," Rhysand reassures Feyre, bending down to plant a tender kiss on her temple. His gaze lingers on their infant son cradled in Feyre's arms, his smile warm as he places a gentle kiss on Nyx's head. "Save me a slice of Elain's cake for later.”

"Alright," Feyre exhales, her eyes still etched with worry. Her attention shifts towards the inked markings on her left arm and a fleeting shadow brushes softly against the tattoo. Lifted by the subtle touch, her gaze meets Azriel's and then Cassian's. In that silent exchange, they convey an unspoken commitment to protect their family at any cost. Feyre can only manage a small smile before the three males winnow away.

As soon as they arrive at the lake, Azriel feels a stirring in his chest. His attention is immediately drawn to a lone white swan. The swan glides across the murky water. A looming darkness rises from the lake, blocking his view of the swan and causing his shadows to jerk back.

"Welcome," Koschei's voice whispers through the wind.

Rhysand moves forward, standing in front of Cassian and Azriel, despite the anxiety coursing through him. “Let’s cut to the chase. What do you want?”

The looming darkness swells, and a malevolent chuckle reverberates from its core. Azriel’s shadows tuck themselves behind his wings and his entire body stiffens. He can sense Cassian do the same beside him. "You know precisely what I desire."

"And you know why we won't grant it," Rhysand retorts. There’s an icy rage swirling in his violet eyes that overcomes his sense of fear. He can only imagine what a world ruled by Koschei would be like and he refuses to allow the death god the power to harm his family.

"I anticipated your reluctance, Rhysand. That's why I've prepared a gift. Aid in my liberation from this lake, and it's yours."

Rhysand scoffs, unwavering. "No gift will entice me to free you."

"Are you certain about that?"

The wind intensifies, rustling leaves and brushing against the Illyrians, raising goosebumps in its wake. Birds, concealed in the trees, erupt in panicked flight. Rhysand, undeterred, digs his hands into his pockets, his eyes narrowing in question at the death god.

Koschei's laughter echoes again. "Perhaps I should show you first. It’s only fair, wouldn't you agree?"

The wind abruptly ceases, plunging the world into an eerie hush. The shadow that looms over the lake drifts to the side, allowing the swan from earlier to glide forward. Suddenly, a dark mist envelops the bird, its form blurring and shifting until the swan's elegant feathers dissolve into a cascade of shimmering silver. From the mist, a cloaked figure emerges, her midnight-blue robes trailing behind her like the ripples of the lake.

With each step, the water seems to part beneath her feet, revealing the silhouette of a woman long thought lost to the depths. You.

“y/n!”

Azriel instinctively moves forward, hand reaching out towards you. Cassian, however, restrains him, a powerful grip on his brother’s arm preventing any impulsive advance.

Rhysand's eyes widen as you approach, a slow and haunting revelation unfolding in the dim light. It is you, standing right in front of them. In your blood and flesh. But your eyes–your eyes, once bright with life, now mirror the opaque shroud of mist hovering around you.

“This can’t be,” Rhysand breathes, his voice barely a whisper, disbelief coloring his tone. “How?

“King Hybern resurrected your sister from the magic of the Cauldron the same way he did with Jurian. You see, Tamlin was desperate to get Feyre back at that time. He let his guard down, allowing Ianthe to not only disclose the location of the Archeron sisters but also the location of your dear sister’s remains. Tamlin buried her body somewhere in his lands but his father had kept her wings. As a trophy. Did you know her death was slow and cruel?”

A shudder courses through Rhysand. Cassian’s fist clench at his sides and he spares a glance toward Azriel, whose body is shaking. None of them knew the details of your murder. An apprehensive feeling churned in their stomachs and Rhysand felt the bile rise in his throat.

“The sons of Spring did not show her the same mercy they did your mother. They drugged her with faebane, rendering her powerless so that she could not fight back. They sloughed her finger off to gift to you. Then, they took her wings. Let her bleed to death."

Suddenly, Azriel’s chest tightens. He can’t breathe. A pained expression crosses his face and his knees go weak. Images of you being tortured to death flood his mind and all he can think about is how he failed you. Cassian’s grip on him tightens even more, keeping him steady.

“King Hybern was so sure he’d win the war that he kept your sister hidden. He knew the Shadowsinger was her mate so he drugged her with faebane the same way the sons of Spring did. He didn’t want any of you finding out she was alive.”

“Hybern didn’t want to ruin the surprise. After his victory, he had planned to take you all back to the castle to torment you with her live state. Only to have you die at her hands. Of course, as you can see, that didn’t work out. Briallyn knew of her resurrection and brought her to me.”

Azriel can’t take his eyes off of you. His shadows dart toward you, slithering up your legs and caressing every inch of you. They linger on your wings. You don’t move. You don’t even blink.

But you’re alive.

All this time you had been alive. That nightmare he had, it was real. You were calling out to him, asking for help. Tears sting at his eyes. That tug he had felt from your shared bond. It was also real. And the tattoo that had reappeared on his skin was not a cruel trick from the Cauldron. But a sign.

“I’ve become very familiar with your sister. She’s very powerful but I’m sure you knew that.”

Rhysand’s gaze flickers to where you stand, heart aching. It’s you but not you. Unlike Azriel, he can’t help but think what if this is all a trick? An illusion to get him to side with Koschei? Cassian meets his worried gaze. They both glance toward Azriel and then exchange a look.

“Let her go.” Cassian finally speaks, hazel eyes glaring at the darkness before them. “And take me instead.”

“Lord of Bloodshed,” Koschei addresses Cassian in an amused manner. “What a most gracious offer. Unfortunately, for you, I have no desire to replace y/n. You, however, are welcome to join me of your own free will.”

“While I am confined to this lake, y/n is going to do everything I physically cannot. She’ll be my proxy, my spymaster. Isn’t that right?”

"Yes, master.”

The words slip from your lips like ice, each syllable devoid of the warmth and affection that once filled them. Azriel's heart lurches in his chest, a cold dread settling in the pit of his stomach as he hears the lifeless tone of your voice.

"No," Azriel growls, the sound reverberating through the air with a primal intensity. His voice, usually steady and composed, now carries an edge of desperation and fury. “You have no right to her. She’s mine.”

Rhysand keeps his hands in his pockets, hiding the fact that they’re slightly trembling. He eyes you once more, pure agony seeping into his very core. He mentally takes a deep breath and looks back toward the looming shadow over the lake, mustering all his strength to feign indifference.

“I don’t understand how this is a gift.”

“Here’s the deal, Rhysand. You help free me from this lake and I free y/n from my control. It’s as simple as that. Since I’m feeling generous, I’ll give you a week to think about it.”

All seven of Azriel’s siphons ignite in a cobalt blaze of raw power. He will not let Koschei control you. You’ve already suffered enough. Cassian struggles to maintain his hold, his grip faltering against the force of Azriel's will.

“Azriel, no!”

The sound that erupts from Azriel was more animal than human—a deep, throaty growl that spoke of primal fury. He breaks free from Cassian, stumbling forward. He regains his footing with ease, rushing toward the lake. Toward the looming figure. Toward you. He’s so close, the water lapping at his boots when your clouded eyes finally meet his.

Burning pain courses through Azriel’s veins, bringing him to his knees and suddenly, he feels like he’s on fire. Your power takes hold over him, penetrating to the core of his being, carving through the marrow of each bone. He knows the fire is not real. It’s only an illusion but it feels as if every single cell in his body is being tormented with the worst agony imaginable. He can barely hear himself scream over the roaring pain in his ears.

Two strong hands clamp onto Azriel’s shoulders and he writhes against it, fighting it. “No,” his voice is a mere hoarse whisper as Rhysand uses his own power to pull him out of your illusion.

As Rhysand’s tendrils of darkness engulf Azriel, the last thing he sees are your eyes. They’re still clouded over, devoid of their usual luster. Yet, against the backdrop of emptiness, tears escape from them.

Azriel wakes to a dull ache in his head. He feels the gentle caress of his shadows against his face, attempting to alleviate the headache that grips him. With a slow blink, he reluctantly greets the soft illumination of his room at the riverhouse. Memories of what happened earlier flood back with startling clarity and his wings quiver involuntarily. A physical manifestation of the anguish that had ravaged his spirit. He doesn’t care that it was you who inflicted that pain upon him.

It pales in comparison to the pain you must be feeling inside. A mere glimpse of the raw emotions raging within you was enough to pierce Azriel's heart. Like a tempestuous storm, the waves of pain surged through your bond. But then, abruptly, he was shut out.

The image of your tear stained cheeks as you brought him to his knees plagues him with uneasiness. It’s this restless unease that stirs him, prompting him to rise from the bed. He looks toward his door, his shadows curling against his ears. Heavy with determination, he makes his way towards Rhysand’s office.

When Azriel's shadows forcefully swing the doors open, the entire inner circle stands before him. Their expressions betray the weight of their recent discussions. The room falls into a silence, thickened with tension. They had been discussing you. Without him. His hands clench into tight fists, his simmering anger threatening to spill over.

“Azriel,” Feyre greets him with a tense smile. “How are you feeling?”

Azriel’s eyes lock onto Rhysand. Anguish and resentment churn within him and Rhysand's posture stiffens in response

“We have to approach this situation with caution,” Rhysand says, surprised by the steadiness in his own voice despite the weight of their predicament.

“Caution?” Azriel nearly growls, prompting Cassian to inch toward him. “She is my wife! My mate! And you expect me to just sit here and wait for your approval to save her?”

Rhysand frowns, his violet eyes flaring. “You think I don’t hurt too?” He exclaims, his voice breaking as he utters his next words. “She is my sister!”

A hand rests on Azriel’s shoulder. Cassian’s. “I want to save her too. Trust me, I do. But we can’t just jump into–”

Azriel shakes Cassian’s hand off, his shadows hissing toward the taller male. “What if it were Nesta?”

Cassian frowns and he spares a glance toward his mate, who is watching the scene unfold with a somber look on her face. Azriel releases a frustrated huff before redirecting his gaze towards Rhysand, a pointed finger aimed accusingly at his friend and High Lord.

"If it were Feyre," he insists, his voice tinged with both desperation and conviction, "you would see no reason."

Rhysand's silence speaks volumes.

"I failed her once," Azriel continues, firm and resolute. "I will not fail her again."

But Rhysand's response is unwavering. "I can't let you go. You have to understand.”

Azriel's jaw tightens. "You can't stop me," he counters in defiance, wings flaring out behind him.

"As your High Lord, I–”

"I'm done," Azriel cuts off sharply before Rhysand can go any further. He’s well aware of the weight of his words but he doesn’t allow them to bring him down. You are his mate, the tether to his soul, and he will put you above all else. Even his family.

"I resign as Spymaster of the Night Court.”

Feyre's eyes glisten with tears as she approaches Azriel, brushing off Rhysand's attempt to hold her back. "Azriel, please," she implores, her voice trembling with emotion. She knows what Azriel must be feeling. She knows because she lived it herself when Rhysand died after the war. But she also knows–or at least, hopes–that there’s another way to bring you back home. She’s already making plans in her mind to reach out to Helion.

"Don't go. We'll find a way to bring her back, I swear it. Just give us time."

Azriel shakes his head, the thought of waiting to rescue you souring in his mouth. He can't bear the thought of you in pain, needing him, while he stands idle. The urgency to act gnaws at his soul, a primal instinct driving him to protect you at any cost.

“You’ll abandon your family then?” Amren asks. Despite her efforts to maintain her usual façade of indifference, a faint glimmer in her eyes betrays the struggle.

“I will not abandon my mate.” Azriel says, taking a step back. “She’s my family too.”

"Don't do this," Rhysand pleads as he takes a tentative step forward, his hand outstretched toward his brother.

Azriel takes another step back, his hazel eyes darting across the room, absorbing the silent pleas etched on the faces of the inner circle. He loves them but he loves you more.

When his gaze locks with Rhysand's again, Rhysand's heart sinks. He realizes that Azriel's mind is already set. His brows knit together in a pained expression. He doesn’t want it to end like this.

"I will not hold this against you," Rhysand manages, his voice strained.

How can he hold this against Azriel? When he would do the same for Feyre. When you, his sister, have been brought back to life only to be imprisoned by Koschei. A gasp fills the room as he drops to his knees.

"But please... just...please..."

The words catch in his throat, choked by the overwhelming grief and helplessness that engulf him. His shoulders slump in defeat as tears blur his vision. Feyre instinctively wraps her arms around him, pulling him close. A brief sanctuary in the midst of his shattering world.

He knows he cannot make Azriel promise anything and Azriel knows this too. Despite the grim circumstances, there is a flicker of solace in Rhysand knowing that whatever terrors may come, you won't face them alone.

“I’m sorry,” is all Azriel says before winnowing away.

Azriel’s shadows tuck themselves back behind his wings when he arrives at the familiar lake. His gaze immediately seeks out the water's edge, where wisps of mist still linger. There's no sign of the white swan he had seen earlier.

"I knew you would come around, Shadowsinger," Koschei's voice taunts from the shadows.

"Where is she?" Azriel demands.

Koschei's laughter carries on the wind, but he concedes. You emerge from the surrounding trees, your eyes widening in shock as you lock gazes with Azriel. This time, your eyes are clear, unclouded, and Azriel's heart twists with recognition as he memorizes the exact shade of your eyes all over again.

"You can't be here," you protest, and Azriel's shadows peek out from behind his wings, reacting to the sound of your voice. It's you. It’s really you.

Your eyebrows furrow, mirroring the same pained expression Rhysand had worn just moments ago. You recognize the gleam in his eyes. "No," you plead, your voice barely a whisper, tears welling up in your eyes. "You can't do this. You have to go back. Go back right now!"

Tearing his gaze off of you, Azriel looks toward the ominous silhouette of Koschei. He can feel the air thicken with anticipation, awaiting his next words. He continues to ignore your protests, even as you frantically rush toward his side.

“As long as you have control over her, you have control over me.” Azriel says and then drops to his knees in submission.

"My, my, my. What a lovely surprise," Koschei remarks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Get up!" You cry out, your hands clutching at Azriel's arms in a desperate attempt to pull him away from the lake. Away from Koschei's grasp. "Azriel, get up!"

Azriel’s knees remain rooted to the spot but his body leans into your embrace. His eyes flutter shut as he allows himself a fleeting moment to revel in the warmth of your presence—the warmth he had yearned for over centuries. The warmth he thought he would never feel again.

His eyes open and though Koschei is a mere shadow a couple of feet away, he can feel his gaze burning into his soul.

“I’ll serve you too,” Azriel finally says, sealing his fate alongside yours in the grasp of the death god.

"What have you done?" Your voice trembles with disbelief, your eyes still wide with shock as you stare up at Azriel, your hands reaching out to grasp his face. After Azriel swore his loyalty to Koschei, the death god had granted you both permission to be alone. He sent you to his sister’s old cottage, where you’d be staying for now.

Azriel's heart swells at the touch of your warm, soft hands against his skin. He wipes away the tears that cascade down your cheeks, his own emotions overwhelming him. "You're alive," he murmurs softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as he rests his hands on your face.

His fingers trace the familiar contours of your features. Every line, every curve is evidence to the reality of your presence. A presence he had long thought lost to him for eternity. The Cauldron had gifted him once more. Here you are, tangible and real. Alive. He can barely believe his eyes.

As Azriel's fingers brush against your face, his shadows dance eagerly in his wake, reaching out to join in the tender caress. They yearn for the sensation of your skin, their touch as gentle as a whisper, expressing their overwhelming joy in silent echoes. "I love you. I love you. I love you," they chant in a chorus of happiness and the bond in your chest sings back in a language only you three understand.

Despite the tears streaming down his face, there’s such a deep and profound warmth in Azriel’s eyes. As he looks at you, it’s like sunlight breaking through dark stormy clouds. You want to bask in its golden glow but as a thought crosses your mind, you abruptly shrink back from him and your lip quivers.

“I hurt you. I-I didn’t want to but I couldn’t stop it. I hurt you. I made you scr–”

Azriel smiles at you, bringing you back into his protective embrace. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” you breathe, eyes searching for any trace of pain or repulse. You find none and though unleashing your power on your mate was against your will, your guilt threatens to consume you. “I’m so sorry, Azriel. I’m so sorry you’re here.”

"Don't be," he murmurs softly, cradling your head against his chest. His fingers thread through your hair, a gentle reassurance of his unwavering presence. He had lost you once. He’s not going to lose you again.

With a heartfelt sigh, he pulls you even closer. “I’m right where I want to be.”

Slowly but surely, the cascade of tears dwindled, leaving a trace of dampness on your cheeks and Azriel’s leathers. In your mate’s arms, you finally have the courage to voice your deepest fear.

"I'm scared, Az. What if I hurt you again? Hurt someone else? What if I do something worse?”

The vulnerability in your voice tugs at his heartstrings, igniting a fierce determination to shield you from any harm. He’d do anything for you.

“You can do no wrong in my eyes.” Azriel responds, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. He then inhales deeply, flooding his senses with your scent. “You don’t know how much I missed you.”

Azriel then pulls away, just enough to look at you again. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you but I’m here now. I won’t fail you this time.”

Your gaze softens. You send a wave of pure love through the bond and Azriel feels his heart flutter at the sensation he’s been deprived of for so long.

“You never failed me, Az.”

Azriel's face breaks into a radiant smile and you smile back at him. It lights up the darkness that had weighed heavily on his heart for centuries. "I love you," his voice is barely above a breath, reveling in the blush that takes over your cheeks in response.

He reaches for the chain around his neck, fingers trembling slightly as he clasps your left hand. His gaze lingers on the lunar tattoo on your arm that matches his for a moment before sliding your wedding ring back onto your finger.

Holding your gaze, he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "My mate," he murmurs against your skin. He then kisses the ring on your finger, the cobalt gem glowing in response. “My wife.”

"I love you," you say back, your arms winding around his neck as your fingers caress the soft strands of his hair. He yields to you, allowing himself to be drawn closer. You kiss the corner of his mouth. "My mate."

Then, finally, you press your lips against his. "My husband," you declare softly, sealing your bond with a kiss that echoes the depths of your devotion and commitment to each other.

And for the first time in centuries, Azriel sleeps soundly with you in his arms. Free from the torment of nightmares that had haunted him for so long.

Only to wake up and realize it’s because he’s now living in one.

a/n: Hope you enjoyed! When writing this, I didn't intend for there to be more parts so for now, it's a one-shot. I left the ending open-ended to allow you to interpret it how you want and also, leave room for a sequel in case I ever do want to go back to this. That being said, while I don't have ideas for a sequel in mind as of right now, I did come up with a backstory for Az & reader in this little au so I might write a prequel on how their relationship came to be.

I also have another Az x Rhys's sister series. It is written in third person and it's more of an Az x OC series. You can find it here, if interested. But I do intend to make this au different than that one.

tagging: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x rhysand's sister #azriel angst #azriel imagine #azriel one shot #azriel fanfiction #acotar imagine #acotar fanfiction #acotar angst #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n

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wonderjanga · 30 days ago

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Black Adam getting Confused

I was reading the wiki trying to learn more about Theo Adam, and on the page I read that he was just evil and essentially just killed the Batsons for a scarab. That’s it. Then Adam possessed him. See, the wiki doesn’t say if Adam has any of Theo’s memories, but what if he did?

Adam’s pissed. He wants to take down the current champion. So, he flies to Fawcett to take him out. He’s then met with a golden retriever of a man who feels familiar and a looks a little too excited to be seeing Adam. Did the wizard not tell this oaf about him?

Marvel: “This is awesome! I’ve never met someone like me!” *starts yapping about how it’s awesome to meet another champion*

Black Adam: *not even listening, the words sound like this to him, is just thinking of where he knows this man is from*

Marvel: *still yapping*

Black Adam: *gets hit with a flashback so hard you would’ve thought it was a flash-bang. Remembers stabbing C.C. in the back, literally, and leaving him to die*

Marvel: *asks Adam something*

Black Adam: “What was that?” *is literally reliving when Theo went after Marilyn next*

Marvel: “What’s your name?”

Black Adam: *stares for a few moments, confused, wondering if Marvel remembers him*

It’s not like this deters Adam though. He still thinks the man is his sworn enemy. They still fight to near deaths and all that, but the memories bother Adam. Not because he was ashamed Theo killed Batson in such an underhanded way (he was just a tad bit), but rather because he doesn’t know how the man is alive. As far as Adam knew, dead people couldn’t just come back and be champions. If that were the case, wouldn’t the very first champion still be the current one?

Teth finally got to ask his question after a particularly brutal fight that messed the both of them up. Adam was on the ground, nose bloody, but nothing more. The current champion never went anything further than immobilizing him. It infuriated him, but since the man gave him more chances to kill him, whether it be on purpose or not, he’d let the matter go. Speaking of the man, he was standing, lip split open, bruises on his face, one of his eyes was half closed and had blood leaking from it, a consequence of Adam aiming for his eye. The current champion’s appearance once again reminded him of Batson once more.

Black Adam: “How’re you alive?”

Marvel: “Huh? What?”

Black Adam: “You should’ve died. In a tomb.” *coughs* “He used the knife. He let you bleed out. The tomb was collapsing and you should’ve only been a normal human being at the time.”

Marvel: *slowly coming to a realization that, holy fudge sticks, Adam thinks he’s his dad*

Black Adam: “So tell me, how are you alive?”

Marvel: *is silent for a bit and definitely won’t turn down the chance to make his dad sound like a badass* “I refused to die.”

Black Adam: “…What?”

Marvel: “I refused to die. I couldn’t leave my wife, my children, my friends, everyone I knew behind. So, I refused to die. I crawled out of the tomb and then the Wizard found me.”

That was actually true. Well, everything but the Wizard thing. In this AU, when C.C. had been stabbed, he managed to crawl out of the tomb, even with a leg that had gotten crushed by debris. Though unfortunately, he died due to blood loss soon after. This was all detailed in a newspaper Billy happened to find about a week after he got kicked out of the house by Ebenezer.

By the way, during that entire speech about making his dad sound like a badass, Marvel didn’t smile. And if Teth was being honest, he uh… he didn’t like that. Mostly because even during the times Marvel fought him, he still smiled at him. He didn’t know how to feel about an unsmiling Marvel. So now, back in Kahndaq, Teth sat on his throne kind of just running the entire interaction through his head over and over again.

But you see, this isn’t the only time Adam’s been completely befuddled by Billy. There was a time he went to Fawcett in disguise and happened to me a certain someone…

Black Adam: *walking down the sidewalk*

Billy: *running down the sidewalk, bumps into him, and then looks up to Adam*

Black Adam: “Watch where you’re going-” *almost goes into cardiac arrest when he sees a kid that looks exactly like his nephew, just white*

Billy: “Sorry, Mister.” *continues running*

Black Adam: *watches him run off with a mortified look on his face*

When he tries to find out more about the kid that bumped into him, he had been pronounced missing and presumed dead. This made Adam kind of feel like shitting himself because for a brief moment he entertained the thought that his nephew had reincarnated or something.

#billy batson #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #shazam #fawcett comics #fawcett #fawcett city #teth adam #black adam

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kryannoy · 10 months ago

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what his kinks are . . .

genre: nsfw, smut

character: andrew graves

warnings: hair pulling, doggy style, biting, marking, choking, + no ashley involved

a/n: i am a bit too obsessed with him at the moment so let me relive my 13 year old self where i used to love psycho guys

HAIR PULLING

Definitely. It was shown in his flashback with Julia where he asked her to tie up her hair. In this case, he would love it if you tied your hair up in a ponytail. It makes it easier for him to grab all of your hair in one go. However, if you're not tying it up, he'd still bunch up your hair in one hand and fuck you from behind.

DOGGY STYLE

Speaking of, he likes doing it in this position. Not because he can admire your ass being pounded by his hips, but also your gorgeous back where he can easily have access to mark you all up.

BITING / MARKING

His body is always so close to you because he can't keep his mouth away from your skin. He loves to bite you, suck you, lick you—whatever to show you're his and his only. He loves to see the purple and red spots and bite marks all over your neck, shoulder, chest, tits, thighs, everywhere. It reminds him of the intense night he had with you.

He even loves it when you leave scratch marks on him. He likes to know he's fucking you good. It boosts his ego, making his oh so hot smirk appear on his face.

CHOKING

He doesn't actually want to hurt you but if you want to he's fine with it. Plus, if it's a rough day for him and he'd go feral, he will choke you in bed. It's like another side of him you get to see.

This includes him collaring you. Oh, he loves to see you wearing a pretty pink or red or black collar with a heart. He loves to pull on the heart which tightens the grip. He wouldn't mind putting on the leash, holding onto it tight and fucking you into the sheets. At times, he really wants you to keep it on even off bed but other times, he likes to see the mark it leaves on your neck along with the hickeys.

#tcoaal #the coffin of andy and leyley #andrew graves #andrew #andrew x reader #andrew graves x reader #andrew graves smut #andrew smut #tcoaal smut #andy #andy graves #andy smut #andy graves smut #andy x reader #andy graves x reader

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reidmania · 4 months ago

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I MISS YOU IM SORRY | spencer reid

good riddance x spencer reid one shot series masterlist!!

summary; Spencer calls after being broken up for a month.

warnings ; fem reader, hopeful/happy ending, angst, exes to lovers, mentions of arguments, breakups, miscommunication, avoidant reader, loving spencer, break up bc reader pushed him away bc of self doubt, pretty tame. i love this i think

an ; RAHH fic twoooooo ehehehe. risk is coming soon i just had to pump out the angst really quick ok bare w me!!

You said, "Forever, " in the end I fought it Please be honest, are we better for it? Thought you'd hate me, but instead you called And said, "I miss you", I caught it. You said, "Forever, " and I almost bought it I miss fightin' in your old apartment. Breakin' dishes when you're disappointed. I still love you, I promise. Nothin' happened in the way I wanted. Every corner of this house is haunted And I know you said that we're not talkin' But I miss you, I'm sorry

The call came as a shock. When you were holding onto the doors of your pantry, leaning back slightly as your eyes skimmed over the contents of it — Which was not a lot. You we’re thinking about that fact you needed to go grocery shopping.

How long could you avoid that?

It started right after you and Spencer broke up, where you refused to go because of the chance that you might see Spencer there. It was right between yours and his apartment so the chances weren’t completely low — and normally you and Spencer did the grocery shopping together.

It would normally consist of you dancing around the store picking up random things and Spencer watching you fondly as he pushed the cart. He would mutter something about what was healthiest and you would hum approvingly then grab the opposite of whatever he suggest because it ‘tasted better’ He would chuckle and press his lips to the top of your head.

You wanted to relive that so bad that the idea of being inside the shops without him seemed so wrong. It felt like doing something behind his back. Like watching an episode of the show you two were watching together without him. It just felt wrong.

So you decided you would go to a different shop, an hour drive away. Just to be safe, but who just had time for that?

Which was how your pantry had gotten near empty.

You still had the big bag of his coffee beans that he left here. The ones you weren’t a fan of buy it didn’t matter because Spencer would compromise and just buy both, or just yours. You had use all of yours and started using the ones he left here.

They left a bitter taste on your tongue and a sweet sensation down the back of your throat, they were strong and kept you awake for hours longer than your normal ones did — but weirdly enough; they felt like home.

The bag was brand-less, and you should’ve memorised what it was you were sure you knew. You just couldn’t remember.

How were you suppose to ask? Call him? Message him? Pop by his house and ask. You were sure if he got any soft of contact from you— about anything, you would be blocked in milliseconds. The feeling that thought provided made your stomach tighten more than you’d like to admit.

You almost stumbled over your own feet when you closed the pantry as your phone started to ring, you saw it light up with a contact but your mind paid little attention as you answered, not even actually looking at your phone, your attention elsewhere.

“Hello?” You muttered as you walked towards the coffee machine you and Spencer had decided to get as an anniversary present. To fuel both your coffee addictions. You shoulder held your phone against your ear as you grabbed the bag of coffee beans — Spencers coffee beans.

You heard a harsh breath on the other side of the phone, “Hey.” The voice. His voice. Tired and groggy as if he had just woken up but you knew him well enough to know he didn’t. You pulled your phone away from your ear as your mind clouded foggy. Your eyes danced over his contact for a moment. He was calling you — He called you. it sent familiar butterflies to your ribcage.

“Spencer?” You exhaled, despite already knowing it was him. You wondered if maybe this was some prank, if he was just calling because he needed something or maybe to call you and degrade you over every mistake you made in the ending of your relationship — you deserved that.

He had every right to hate you for how things ended, he had every right to hate you, period. You had assumed that was how he felt towards you. Hatred. You knew he loved you throughout your relationship, that wasn’t something you had to question but the idea of that still being the case after everything unfolded the way it did.. It didn’t even seem fathomable.

“Hi” He repeated. His voice was low and quiet, you didn’t know what that meant and it was driving you insane. Your feet pattered around the house suddenly feeling cold in the kitchen. Nothing but memories fogging your mind every corner you looked — that didn’t go away as you moved around the house. It was filled by him and it was consuming you whole.

You let out a heavy breath. “Do you need something?” It didn’t come out how you wanted it to. It wasn’t harsh or anything but your voice weakened half way through your words making embarrassment creep up the back of your neck.

The other side of the phone was silent for a minute, making anxiety pool in your stomach. Your head tilted as you sat on the corner of the couch, wrapping yourself in the blanket on the couch — the one you used more often than you’d like to admit, since some night sleeping in the bed that was suppose to be shared with Spencer felt all too consuming, the way his scent lingered faintly over the sheets and his little nothings covered the window sill, his jacket still hung up in the closet.

“Spence are you okay?” The nickname fell from your lips before you could try to stop it. You heard a muffled sound on the other end of the phone making your stomach twist. Slight worry and confusion filled the wrinkles by your eyes as you squinted slightly.

“Ye- Im.. Im okay” He breathed out his voice heavy and filled with something you couldn’t place if you tried. You were sure it was an emotion you had felt since you felt a sick feeling of familiarity in your abdomen. “I just- Can we talk?” He asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed as your knees pulled to your chest. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?” You asked, in your mind there was a point to this conversation, there was something specific he needed to talk to you about or why else would he call. He wouldn’t, you thought.

“No-Not like that, i just- I just want to talk to you, about anything. Whatever you want I just—” There was a pause, his voice got quiet, almost a whisper, “I miss you.” The words that left his lips buried themselves deep inside your chest, building themselves a home there.

Your head span. He said it so quietly you were scared you might’ve missed it if he said it any quieter. But you didn’t, you caught it. A deep breath left your chest as your hand came to your forehead, your mind was so focused on the fact that, he missed you. He called because he missed you. You almost forgot to answer him. You figured if he said the comment so quietly, maybe he didn’t want a reply on it, so you continued on with the conversation as the words interfered with the rhythmic beating of your heart.

“What coffee beans to do you buy?” You settled on. You heard him chuckle on the other side of the phone before passing a comment asking ‘why? You hated them’ It made your heart flutter uncomfortablely. The two of you continued talking about coffee beans for ten minutes before he muttered about how he had to go, you knew it was probably work related. But god he sounded so sad saying it.

“Spencer?” You asked softly, your voice coming out quieter than what you expected. You heard his soft hum on the other side of the phone. You didn’t want to admit how much you missed him, how your entire being craved him every minute of everyday regardless of what you did — nothing in the world could fill the him-shaped- hole that took up the space of your gut.

“I’m sorry” You apologised and you hoped it was clear you were apologising for everything, for the arguments, for the breakup, for pushing him away for no real good reason beside your own self doubt. It was the sorry you were too proud to mutter out a month ago.

There was a moment on the other side of the phone where you were almost convinced he was going to hang up — you worried you brought up what he didn’t want to talk about.

But instead, “I miss you.” He said louder this time, as if he believed you didn’t hear it the first time. The words made your stomach clench tightly and your muscles both tighten and relax at the same time.

You sigh, you should have shut up. He had to go, you know that but the words came out honestly as “I still love you” You said. You wanted to slap yourself in the face, now you really weren’t gonna be surprised if he hung up and blocked you.

There was a heavy breath, you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. “Well-“ He huffed, “If you still love me, and- I still love you..” He muttered out intentionally, hoping you caught on to what he was insinuating. Your mind however was captivated by the fact that, he still loved you.

“We should probably talk” He finished when you didn’t, “Please?” It was thrown in there both to use manners and to show how badly he wanted this. You weren’t ever gonna say no in the first place.

“We should. Do you need to go grocery shopping?” You asked, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you almost smiled. You could almost imagine his confusion.

“Um— I guess that depends —Do you?” He asked. You huffed out a small laugh, nodding your head absentmindedly as you realised he couldn’t see you. “Do you still go to-“

He cut you off, “No. No i started going to the one across town, about an hour away” He said, honestly. You head tilted slightly as you realised he started going to the one you were going to. The conversation continued as you both ignored — or forgot the fact he needed to go.

“Why?”

“So you didn’t feel uncomfortable if I was there when you were” He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It made your stomach scrunch up and your chest to bruise your ribcage as the beating of your heart only increased.

“Let’s go grocery shopping, at our shop. Then um— you can come here and I can make you coffee?” You suggested slightly awkwardly, as you worried about the chance of rejection and the embarrassment you would feel.

“It’s a date.” He smiled, you could hear it in his voice.

“Okay.” You exhaled out.

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hannieehaee · 1 year ago

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them waking up from a wet dream about you

18+ / mdi

content: established relationship, smut, penetrative sex, eating out is mentioned, no somnophilia actually involved, etc.

wc: 1105

a/n: no one requested but i was thinking about this so yeah <3

masterlist

seungcheol -

he'd groan the moment he realized he had woken up before getting to the best part of the dream. his groans and quiet curses would wake you up, startling him when you softly asked to see what was wrong. would feel a bit embarrassed asking you to help him, but his natural cockiness would come back to him the moment he noticed your own shyness at the situation. would get on top of you, whispering what a good girl you were for letting him pound into you even at the late hours of the night.

jeonghan -

would blame you for it. you seduced him, as you always do, even in his sleep. he'd be joking, but would also flirt his way into your pants. it wouldnt take too much convincing from him, which would have him chuckling against you, saying something about how you were quite literally a dream to him, letting him have you even in his sleep.

joshua -

waking up unbelievably horny and a bit blue balled from having woken up mid-dream, he'd caress you into waking up, flirting with you in your sleepy state to get you to let him hit. would pull all stops by pinching at your nipples and sensually kissing you, pulling away just when you were getting into you, making you chase after him. he'd end up fucking you while you both laid down, very soft and sweet despite the original filthiness of his dream.

jun -

you would have woken up before him due to how noisy he was being, not realizing he was asleep due to his eyes still being open. once you realized he was actually asleep and probably having a very intense dream, you'd watch him for a bit, growing aroused at the groans and moans he was letting out, along with the movements of his hips against the mattress. you'd eventually wake him up, immediately jumping him as soon as he gave indication of being awake. he'd take your kisses and your desperation for him with open arms, only yelping at the surprise before allowing you to do as you wanted with him.

soonyoung -

he'd have woken up while grinding against you in his sleep, probably waking you up in the process. would be halfway through an apology until he realized he had not stopped his grinding even as he had woken up. he'd just shrug off any rational thought and continue grinding, having your moans as confirmation that you were just as turned on. would eat you out afterwards as a thank you for letting him use your body to get off.

wonwoo -

he'd sit there for a long time, pondering as to whether he should bother you with his issue or not. would try to relive the dream in his head, but knowing you were laying next to him would take him right out of it. he'd probably decide on waking you, being very soft in his movements. would continue being soft and sweet all throughout, praising you for taking care of him even in this state.

jihoon -

embarrassed like crazy. he liked to consider himself a guy with self-control, so waking up after an intense dream about you would have him having second thoughts about his person. he'd ponder as to whether or not he should wake you up, only to be interrupted by you waking up on your own due to the hardness against your ass. would moan 'thank you's as you took him in your mouth til he grew too exhausted to stay awake.

seokmin -

he was always way up in your space while you slept, so it wouldntve been surprising when he had woken up with his cock placed at the perfect angle against your own crotch, unknowingly grinding on you in his sleep. would groan at the realization that you were also humping him in your sleep. he'd wordlessly wake you up, signaling to keep going and eventually leading the two of you to cum in your pants with the mere dry humping.

mingyu -

would not hesitate in waking you up, whining at you that it was your fault he had such dreams. would whisper every detail of the dream in your ear, trying to coerce you into letting him impale you despite it being the early hours of the night. would likely keep you up all night after that, choosing to play with you until morning came. pretty common occurrence, actually.

minghao -

would be surprised he had such an intense dream. he meditates a lot, and always takes special tea at night to make sure he gets a fulfilling sleep, so he'd be shocked at such a disruptive (but welcome) dream. he'd gauge the situation, checking if maybe you were in deep slumber or if it'd be proper to ask you for help since he was beyond just horny. he'd go for the latter, sheepishly waking you up and thanking you for taking care of him, promising he'd pay it back if you ever needed it.

seungkwan -

he would've started humping the bed without realizing, thinking back to his pretty dream of you. would be in a lucid state of not really awake but not really asleep, whining at the friction the mattress was giving him. only thing that would wake him up would be you tapping his shoulder, wordlessly suggesting he use you instead. he'd be so needy at such an hour, having no rhythm or control as he helped the both of you get off. would immediately fall asleep after cumming.

vernon -

wakes up in a cold sweat, panting at the intensity of the dream he had just woken up from. would be in a daze for a few minutes, not knowing whether to try and go back to sleep or take care of himself (or a third secret option in which he begs you to please do him a solid). after a few minutes of existential crisis, he'd decide to just jack off in the bathroom, coming back to cuddle up with you, only to wake up hours later with yet another boner.

chan -

upon waking up, he'd watch you sleep for a bit, swooning at how soft and pretty you were. your clothes would have ridden up a bit, making him have the perfect view to jack off to. would feel kinda guilty, but you had just looked so gorgeous in his dream that it had him feeling lightheaded how you were even more beautiful in real life. would finish with a groan, promising himself to feel the real thing as soon as you woke up a few hours from then.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen #svt #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #seventeen reactions #svt reactions

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wondeurwall · 9 months ago

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AUTHOR'S NOTE. based on the poll: nsfw that won by a landslide, as expected AKSNDJSKb!!! i'll post the sfw soon. i'm currently sitting on 9k with this fic & i don't think i'm close to being done yet omg 😵‍💫 not sure how many more previews i'll post of it – i'll play by ear. or, if it's something y'all still would like, then i'll be more than happy to do it, but i think they'll be much shorter going forward!! 💕💕

AND good luck to anyone pulling for zayne's banner & for anyone trying the new oracle of stars event... i want to try pulling for rafayel's, at the very least, since they all look related to the myths 😭 for the lore, I'LL BE BROKE!!!

TAGS/WARNINGS: 🔞 mdni, fem!reader, porn with plot because i said so, cunnilingus

He drops to his knees, keeps his arms slung over your legs, trapping you at the edge of the bed. His face is in front of your pussy, the heat of his breath makes you quiver.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl,” he says.

And, you do exactly that. Rafayel’s gaze has the full moon in there, the light unblinking and brilliant, like a parallel of the sun during the day. It dares you to flinch the longer you look. But, you keep staring, find that it doesn’t hurt and, instead, the light feels familiar.

You hear the waves, tides along the shore and grains of sand being pulled into the water. It happens briefly. Holding your breath, the salt of the sea comes to you like it does in your dreams, a little more vivid each time you fall asleep.

The same images of him fill your vision. Why?

You release the breath, then blink, feeling the heaviness in your chest and the lump in your throat again. It’s a back-and-forth reel of him and Rafayel, different realities converging to a single point in time – and, your lips are trembling. With the heat of Rafayel’s body seeping into you and the recollection of the sea, the moment tastes and sounds like a memory.

No. It’s more than that.

You look at Rafayel, and everything feels less like a dream and more like a memory.

You’re about to call his name, but it’s quickly ripped out of your lips in an airy moan. The flat of his tongue glides up your slit once. Then, he’s doing it again, dipping the tip into your hole and curling between your folds as he moves up to gather your cum. Taking as much as he can, he swallows the taste of you, eyes fluttering closed as he savors it.

It’s the way he does that – makes you believe this isn’t the first time, like he isn’t a stranger to this side of you. So, you’re drifting back into your head (only barely now, because the pleasure is intense, hot and needy) and it’s as if pieces of a puzzle come together in the span of a millisecond and you’re lucid enough to arrive to what seems like an impossible reason: it’s not the first.

You can’t shake off this feeling.

Your pupils dilate, oxygen completely dried from your lungs when you see the pleasure on his face. To you, Rafayel is reliving something he’s missed. Something that’s been denied from him for so, so long and he’s finally grasped onto it, and he looks like he’s found the secret to walking on air.

The ache in your chest is overwhelmed by the ache in your pussy. You whine, the glow in his eyes too dizzying. It does nothing more than guide you closer to hysteria. Your hips jerk forward, begging.

Blood rushes through his cock, straining beneath his pants as a deep rumble comes from within his chest. He’s diving back into your cunt for more before you can catch your breath.

You lie there, unable to close your legs. His arms keep them bent and tucked securely between his biceps and forearms, the strength of him nothing you can even attempt to win against. It comes to you as no surprise – he’s not human after all. Your mouth parts, a light sheen of saliva over your lips. Shallow, quick breaths keep you grounded as you watch through glassy eyes how Rafayel devours your pussy like a starved man.

He pulls back slightly, staring – he hones in on your little bud. You hold your breath when he presses a kiss to your clit, slow and gentle, before he traps it between his lips and sucks, humming as he does.

“Raf – Rafayel,” you gasp, the vibrations coupled with his sucking makes your thighs vibrate, has you seeing tiny white stars. He sucks your clit harder, and your voice gets caught at the edge of your throat.

There’s a pause before you’re moaning like a broken record.

You force your hands to mask your face, rallying enough strength to quiet down because you’re falling, losing yourself so fast, and you have no idea how to wrap your head around the pleasure that’s already building back up.

There’s a disapproving click from the man between your legs.

“Stop,” he says, voice deepening to a near growl. It surprises you – this tone, along with that look in his eyes, half-lidded, clouded with desire, like a predator ready to pounce at its prey – and you feel a greater level of ecstasy being injected into you and it knocks against the sensitive, heavy knot in your stomach.

His demand is never quite like this. It feels… good.

Rafayel loosens the hold on one of your legs to snatch your hands away from your face, “I need to hear you, baby, or I’ll stop.”

Breath bated, you can’t help but stare at him, utterly dazed by the moonlight that hangs over his head just like it does in his eyes.

Lovestruck. Only a second passes before you realize how far you’ve fallen, how desperate you are to see more of this version because there’s no use in denying that you’re among the reasons – if not the reason – he’ll take charge. It’s a stark contrast to the light-hearted and comical side he usually shows. There’s a certain attractiveness to it, the willingness inside of him to take care of you with this authority.

He asks, “Won’t you be a good girl and listen to me?”

God, you’re so wet right now.

You forget how to breathe, feeling like you’ve evolved in a bottomless nothing. His grip on your hands is firm, yet not so much that it shackles you. He’s still gentle. Nodding your head is all you can manage. He finds it cute. Rafayel brushes his mouth over your palm and around your hand to the first knuckle. He smiles.

And, you melt. Of course, you do. Craving to be good for him, to be the good girl like he says you can be – that you are – you clutch onto the bed sheets instead, let your mouth babble this time.

When he’s sure you won’t do it again, he goes back to your clit, giving the attention it deserves as he keeps his eyes on you. He plants a kiss to your throbbing bud again. And again. And then again. It gets stickier there, messy with your cum and arousal and his saliva; stretchy, gooey strings that reconnect his lips to your pussy.

#love and deepspace x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace smut #rafayel smut #love and deepspace #rafayel x you #l&ds smut #lads smut #l&ds x reader #lads x reader #love and deepspace x you #WONDEURWALL ೃ⁀➷ WRITINGS #TY TY TY!!#tysm for all the notes on my other previews!!#i really wasn't expecting much #i appreciate it!! MWAH💋💕

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helloledena · 3 months ago

Text

Uh-oh... I'm falling in love~

Synopsis: Kakashi though he had everything under control, especially his feelings. But one ninja from Village hidden in mist was enough to change that. Oh how wrong he was...

Pairing: Kakashi x Reader (but in Kakashi's pov 🙂‍↕️)

Content: fem! reader, slow burn, strangers to "something" to lovers, light smut, mention of depression, lot's of thoughts, lot's of confusion.

Word count: 8.3k (😬)

A/N: Kakashi's character is so complex and hot and hard to write and hot and tragic but hot, so yeah, love him so much *.*

pervert.

When the saleswoman at his favorite bookstore gave him a raised eyebrow, all Kakashi could do was smile while scratching the back of his head in a manner that reeked of humor.

"I understand why you wanted to read Make-out Paradise… but now even the other two books?"

"What can I say, it really drew me in."

"And.. you say you've read it..."

"Yes, I've read it three times already, I think it's time to find out what happens in the sequel, don't you think? Hahaha" he let his body wiggle a little, and his free eye rolled up into a smile.

"Pervert," the girl muttered as she slid off the counter and went to get more books.

The ninja tiredly scanned the other books on display on the counter. The well-known novel "Life of a shinobi: Honor or Death" caught his eye. With a soft sigh, he picked up the book, turned it upside down, and began to stare at the wall clock that didn't actually work.

He would never admit it out loud, but reading an erotic novel, in which the most exciting thing is actually the various lovemaking positions, had become his new favorite way to distract himself. The distraction from the dead bodies he was cleaning after massacre several months prior; from the feeling of total guilt of allowing Itachi, the boy with soft eyes and always a calm expression on his face Itachi, to go and slaughter everyone in his clan; from death of his friends..

Not to speak of it, he realized that nothing calmed him as much as re-reading the same book with the light and warm plot. The fact that he could relive what he knew would end well gave him a sense of comfort that he hadn't experienced in a long time. Life was bearable again. Just a bit. Just a little bit more, he didn't want to kill himself.

"Your books," mumbled the saleswoman into her chin, still clearly under the impression, as she quickly took the money from him "enjoy the rest of your day."

"Thank you. Be sure that I will. Ha! I mean... not in that way..." the now blushing girl looked at him as if he had gone completely mad. He felt his own cheeks slowly warming up "well, anyway... I'm going now. You! You have a nice day... really nice day..."

His smiling aura slid at a moment as he left the shop. He put the third part of “Make-Out” in his shoulder bag, while opening the second one as he walked slowly in an unknown direction. What is he gonna do now? Maybe he should go to get some ramen? But he failed to keep Obito's promise, he couldn't save Rin from death, his father wasn't there to see how much he had progressed. Perhaps he could go back to that cursed rock again. Yeah, that seems like better idea.

"Kakashi!!!" he heard Gai shouting for him from a distance "my eternal rival!!!! Come! Let’s see who can drink more sake before nightfall!!"

But he just continued walking, looking at the first page of the book. He reminded himself that if he does not get involved no one would die because of him. If he doesn't intervene, it wouldn't hurt as much if someone from them died. If he doesn't get involved, perhaps those damn stubborn people would finally realize how truly awful person he is.

When he reached the next corner between streets, he was about to run the rest of the way, but a melodic voice froze him in his tracks.

"Are ninjas in this silly village not taught manners?" He turned and saw a girl leaning against one of the buildings at the corner. How, in the hell, hadn't he noticed her presence before? He decided to let his visible eye wander into a something that seemed like smile.

"I really don’t know what you’re talking about…"

"Pfft" the girl continued to lean her head against the wall, staring at Kakashi with a smirk on her face; her relaxed body language contradicted the words she spoke to him, as if she wasn't intimidated in the slightest "The famous copy ninja Kakashi Hatake, known to all bounty hunters, his name written in more bingo books than can be counted... Yet, you appear to be even more of a creep than the old man who wrote that perversion you're reading"

Kakashi felt strange at her words, gripping his kunai knife tightly in the pocket of his pants. Was she an enemy? He quickly surveyed the area suspiciously as he seemed to be merely searching for a more comfortable way to stand. Hidden Mist Village headband... what the hell?

"Well.." now he was looking cautiously in the direction of the girl "you talk about manners, and you didn't introduced yourself... very hypocritical, don't you think?"

"Hmmm" the girl smiled again, and then pulled out a scroll from her pocket that opened in front of Kakashi "I have permission. And besides, I'm done with my work for now, so I’ll be leaving today. I was just wondering if you really are as cold hearted as everyone says..."

"And?" he looked away from the scroll, returning his gaze to the book that he still held open in his left hand "are they right?"

"I can only say that I'm disappointed" he felt the girl shrug her shoulders "well, see you next time, pervert."

He just hummed. Before he turned and continued walking towards that cursed, stupid rock, he heard the voice again.

"Oh, and did you hear," he looked and she was smiling very widely; something hot filled his stomach "that now the 4th part is being written? I mean, the creepy old man... you already know who I'm talking about."

She winked and disappeared from his sight as silently as she had come. As he continued to observe the now empty space where she had been a second ago, he felt feverishly lucky that he had not learned the girl's name. And if something happened to her, her name would not appear before his eyes in his nightmares.

mercy.

It was the 4th day of the chunin exams and Kakashi couldn't sit and wait any longer. The link with the birds that were relaying information about the happenings had been cut since Orochimaru had magically appeared, then disappeared. He felt nervous. He felt nervous and noticed that it came out in the way he peeled an orange, in the way he would grip the doorknob when he left the room to get some air, and in the way his leg bounced every now and then.

Perhaps he shouldn't have been so harsh with Iruka a few days earlier, saying that his students were now warriors. But he knew that if he had shown even a fraction of the insecurity he felt, his decision would not have carried the authority that now have. So because he wanted his ego to remain intact he left the company of the other jonin, who would probably feel his nervousness at any moment, then climbed onto the roof of the Hokage building and let the sun caress him.

They have the best chance to survive in the shinobi world if they ruthlessly face every obstacle. They have the best chance to survive in the shinobi world if they ruthlessly face every obstacle. I did not send them to their deaths. I did not send them to their deaths. Kakashi repeated those sentences to himself more than he would like to admit.

With big sigh he opened the 3rd book of Make-Out and stared blankly at the pages.

"Hahahaha, wait, wait, you're still reading that nonsense? How long has it been? 4 years?"

His smile curved beyond his will, though she didn't see it because of his mask. He didn't hear her when she got closer to him, like few years prior. How wonderful...

"And who are you?" he looked at her now with his head tilted to the side.

"Oh, that hurts, you know" said the girl with a sneer in her voice, sliding next to him "I know I'm not that *ultra famous* like you are, but we've already met. Plus even I have a target on my head now. These criminals' bingo books, blah blah" and Kakashi was aware of that. When he was in the Land of Waves on a mission with his team, about a month ago, he took Zabuza's bingo book with him. As he flipped through the pages he saw a familiar face, although for a moment he was slightly unsure if it was the girl he met a few years ago. The scar on her cheek was new...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Name: y/n

Rank: unknown, approach with caution

Village of Origin: A Hidden Mist village, Land of Water

Known Techniques: water manipulation, blood manipulation

Orders: wanted dead or alive

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ah, many new faces lately..." he cooed while watching over village in those quiet moments. How the hell she keep finding him when he is alone? And he didn’t have much alone time since becoming leader od Team 7.

"By the way, your kids are holding up well there, as far as I could see" - now he looked at her "if I hadn't seen other things in my life, I would say that they are very young. But we both know it could have been worse. They'll finish the obstacle... they had that crazy determined look in their eyes about half a day ago."

"Search birds are not working for 3 days now."

"Ah well, we "watermen" don't use birds for surveillance. That's what you should have learned at your sweet little academy."

"The fact that you're not on the organizing team for this exams and yet have your own means of monitoring shouldn't surprise me?" Kakashi knew more than he asked. The ninja of the Village Hidden in the Mist were not at all interested in the official ninja ranking that the other villages held so dearly. They were ruthless warriors, deadly as soon as they left the academy, probably even then at chunin level. Now this is simply gathering information… he was aware of that from the moment the first registration from that village for the chunin exams in the last 7 years came. Only Kakashi wanted to know why…

"You know" the girl now closed her eyes and laid so still for a few minutes that the copy ninja thought she fell asleep "even though the rest of the ninjas in my village are furious because of what happened to Zabuza, I'm very grateful to you. I mean, I really wasn't the least bit touched by anything that happened to that... that.. him. But the way you treated Haku's body…"

Kakashi felt his stomach acid rising in his throat. Haku... another mistake of his. Another victim of chidori that shouldn't have been. Haku had a soul as pure as snow, Haku should have escaped... Haku shouldn't have ended up like Rin.

"In any case" now she opened her eyes, slightly teary, keeping Kakashi rooted in place "you showed mercy that our village has not experienced in a long time. Thank you for that. Especially since it was a boy who was kind."

Kakashi let out a soft breath although to his ears it was almost as loud as a scream. No one had ever seen him that way. No one had ever called him merciful... He felt dizzy... what the hell was this woman doing to him...

"Didn't you say last time that you made sure I'm cold-blooded like everyone says?"

"I think I actually said that I was disappointed. And by disappointed, I meant that I was expecting someone with a dirty aura, and I got something completely opposite."

Kakashi hummed, now loking at the village. But still feeling her eyes on him.

"And didn't you say you don't remember me?"

"Huh. Tushe."

stupid distraction.

Ever since he saw y/n at the time of chunin exams, Kakashi actually, even 6 months later, hasn't stopped seeing her. It turns out that y/n has actually been in high demand in the Lands of Water since last January, with a huge bounty on her head. Words circulated that with her blood manipulation, she forced the Mizukage's own brother to cut himself bit by bit with his blade until he died by his own hand in a pool of blood. Rumor has it that she left a letter written in his blood which said that his death was compensation for the rape of the girls from the Village Hidden in the Mist, one of whom is her cousin. Since blood revenge is completely justified in the villages of more southern longitude, the Mizukage made all the criminals of those villages duty to kill y/n on the spot or bring her alive. That's why she is in all bingo books.

He hadn't heard much about on whose permission she was in Konoha before, but when Tsunade came back and became Hokage she gave y/n asylum and declared her an auxiliary force. It turns out that during the chunin exams, she helped the village a lot in monitoring the enemy even though she didn't have to and therefore Tsunade befriended her very quickly.

What Kakashi really couldn't understand at the begining was how everyone got close to her so quickly. He found himself pretty often following y/n as she moved around Konoha, looking for anything that would make his suspicion justified. He watched when she stops by the market for fresh fruits and veggies, or talks to Kurenai in the street with a big smile, or when she practices her water control by the stream next to half a kilometer from the memorial stone. He wished he could just stand next to her and feel the warmth radiating from her up close again as she squirmed when she talked.

Which was out of the question now, sure, because she didn't want to talk to him anymore. But it certainly didn't stop him from being attracted to her warmth. Of course, it wasn't like that for the whole 6 months, it even seemed to him that she enjoyed being in his company for the first month. She kept popping up, each time making no sound as usual and going on and on about how Naruto had gotten stronger, how Kakashi needed to be more gentle with Sasuke, how maybe it was better for Sakura to learn 1 on 1 new techniques to help her reach personal, not someone else's potential. She told him how in her village she liked to go to the banks of the harbor early in the morning and look for children who were fishing by themselves and to use her "magic" to pull out a few fish. They would laugh and call y/n princess of the sea. With a very serious expression on her face she listed endless crazy reasons why Kakashi could wear a mask and swore in front of everyone present (even though they were actually alone) that one day she would find out what his face looked like. And when she talked she was beautiful.. actually, she was always beautiful. He mostly listened in silence, allowing the warm feeling in his chest to grow little by little with each of their conversations. He realized that he began to take the path to the memorial stone more often where there was a better chance of her jumping out. Once, she even came along with him as far as the stone itself, bowed and stood quietly for a while before whispering "at least you have a place to mourn your loved ones."

However, that huddled routine that Kakashi looked forward to more than he'd like to admit stopped 10 days after Sasuke disappeared, and he ran into her for the first time after the failed mission. "You shouldn't blame yourself, you did everything you could" she was silent for a few minutes "I don't think you really could have stopped him.. you said yourself that Sasuke was stubborn. If you managed to bring him home, the question is whether he would still want to be a part of the team...". When Kakashi was still silent and tried to turn and leave she spoke again "When I lost my cousin I couldn't sleep for days, I blamed myself and wanted to die. But I realized that what was happening to us was inevitable, if she had survived then maybe the Mizukage would have sent his guards and...” “You trying to cover your guilt with failed excuses shows what person you are like.. I will not live in such a miserable field” when the anger came out of him with that sentence Kakashi realized how wrong he was and tried to speak again, but a cold "I got it, go bathe in guilt if that's what you want" cut him off with eyes that glared at him. Y/n left after that and didn't speak to him again to this day.

So he was left to watch her from a distance. In moments when he felt lonely he blamed her. He often let his frustration get the better of him and then tried to talk to others about his doubts and pin his ugly feelings on y/n. Unfortunately for him, everyone loved her, starting with Gai who was finally getting a talkback about the flower of youth and someone with whom his passionate level would be similar.Kurenai finally felt close to a female ninja and laughter could always be heard from Tsunade's office when she was in. Genma showed a closeness to her like he hadn't with anyone in a long time... Kurenai even mentioned that they went on a date after some difficult mission. Which is perfectly fine and didn't leave Kakashi choking on a feeling he hadn't felt before at all. Hot again, but not in a nice way, it even felt a little like anger. And now he was standing in the Hokage's office wondering how a ninja with chakra that was impaled on a water core could cause so much fire.

"Well Kakashi, it's time for another S-rank mission" Tsunade smiled at him, holding sake in her left hand. It was already dusk and her paperwork work was due in about an hour, so her advisors weren't in the room "I hope you had enough time to rest."

"And if I said I didn't, it wouldn't change the situation much" he wasn't looking anywhere in particular while keeping his hands in his pockets. He was on the last mission for a full 3 weeks. Of course he was chakra exhausted. Of course he felt tired. Of course he wanted to do nothing but sleep, read Make-out, and visit the memorial stone. And check out what y/n is doing…

"You know yourself that the level of missions has increased since the death of the 3rd Hokage and the destruction of the village. All our enemies strike us now because they're hoping to catch us in weakness. Unfortunately we don't have enough jonin to cover the steady increase in S rank missions...so there is no time for long breaks. This one is especially hard, so you'll get an escort."

"Ah, escort..." now he was looking at the ceiling, how interesting tiles... "didn't you say that sending couple jonin rank ninjas on a mission is a waste of resources? That it should be done only in exceptional cases? Or you've actually started caring about me? In that case my heart is about to break…"

"This is an exceptional case, Kakashi" Tsunade got up from the chair and sat on the table directly observing Kakashi "the fact is that many jonin go on missions with their genin and chunin and they consider it a kind of vacation, because all those missions are B rank at worst. However, that privilege has been taken away from you since Sasuke escaped and Naruto went to train who knows where with Jiraiya" when she noticed that Kakashi would not respond to her remark she sighed deeply and continued "since this mission involves going into enemy territory you will take escort."

"Enemy territory?"

"Land of Waves to be precise. Y/n was already notified this morning that she has been assigned an S rank mission and will need to be your guide and support."

"Y/n?!" Kakashi felt his anger spreading through his body, so he tried with all his might, fists clenched in his pockets, to calm his breathing; he spoke very slowly and quietly "y/n has a huge bounty on her head in those villages. Or did you miss that? They will kill her as soon as she gets close."

"The scroll that was stolen is very important to Konoha, Kakashi " she held the tip of the nose with her eyes closed "y/n knows the risk and she accepted it. It was her duty at the end of the day" as she looked at him determinedly "as it was yours to take orders from the Hokage. You have a mission to complete, and for efficiency you'll bring a guide with you, who, if I must remind you, is also a jonin who does S-rank missions. You will take care of each other."

"You can't send her with me" he couldn't stop his legs from getting a little closer to her "you can't send her there, it will only be a big distraction."

"The decision has been made" she handed him the scroll looking at him resolutely "the deadline for the mission is 1 week. If you do not return by then, help will be sent to you. All the details are in the scroll, I expect a successful report when you return. That's it, you can go."

"But, Lady Tsunade –"

"That's it Kakashi" a small crack was heard from the wood of the table that cracked under Tsunade's pressure "you can go."

Damn it he thought.

i’m so sorry.

"Of course you're late" y/n looked at Kakashi leaning against the wall of village gate, her bag on the floor between her legs.

"You won't believe what an infestation of angry geese was in front of my house" he smiled at her, scratching the back of his head.

"Yes, yes. Move then..." she just walked away leaving him standing there for a few moments staring at her. He wondered if she knew where he was going before every mission. He wondered if she could see through his acting with that haunting gaze.

After few hours passed, in not so pleasant but endurable silence, air was getting colder. Kakashi felt his fingers slowly tingle, frantically trying to warm them in his pockets.

"Fuck.." muttered next to him y/n holding a finger in the air that was covered in water and her chakra "fuck, fuck."

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly, observing their surroundings. They were around 25 kilometers away from Konoha for a pretty short time because they were running most of the way wanting to reach the border of Land of Water by evening. It's only about an hour to the small town. They were currently in an open area and Kakashi desperately wanted to get out of the way as soon as possible.

"Once every few years Land of Water gets a period of so-called „false winter“"y/n blurted out through her teeth, keeping her gaze still on the water that was wrapped around her finger "you see? There is a thin layer of hoarfrost gathering on the surface. It's not cold enough to freeze, but maybe, in 2 days, it will be enough."

"And what do those winters look like? Should we expect snow?"

"Probably not. The problem with this winters is that they are very cold and wet. On the other hand they never last more than a week. But people freeze to death because winters come so suddenly, so we have to be very careful. And of course, to return home as soon as possible."

"Clearly..." Kakashi spoke in a moment, swearing at his fate. This mission probably couldn't get any worse.

He watched y/n wipe hands on her pants, and warming the hand she had attached the water to by slowly blowing into it. He couldn't resist the urge and slowly put his hand on her shoulder. She looked at him with a look that almost brought him to his knees. Honest, clean, which allows the color of her eyes to completely come to the fore.

"Don't worry" he said quietly, now in some incomprehensible fear of not scaring her further, and with a huge desire to slowly dance his fingers on her face... to get rid of every concern "we will finish this mission successfully. Everything will be alright."

"Mhm" the girl in front of him uttered a falsely cheerful voice "and even if something happens, you won't have to swim in pool of pathetic excuses so I'm not even worried about you" she slipped out of his touch with the speed of an eye blink "it's time to go and find a room if we don't want to sleep in the cold."

"Y/n..." he tried

"Come on" she interrupted him already ready for a new round of running "don't lose sight of me."

When they arrived at the room they had barely rented as it was the last one in a shack at the very end of a famous town, within reach of a Village Hidden in Mist, Kakashi thanked every exalted being that existed for the 2 large separte beds in their room. As he made the beds, placed the maps on the floor of the room, took the food out of his bag, he listened to the sound of the shower coming out of the bathroom and suddenly he felt terribly hot. Although he had never been intimate with a woman... or anyone really, out of constant fear of getting hitched and that person dying, Kakashi actually often felt very lustful. It had appeared in flashbacks before, when he saw a pretty girl at one of his missions, when he passed a public women's bath, when he was reading his books... however he had never wanted something or someone so much that it made him act on that lust. The present moment, on the other hand, was driving him completely insane. Yes, he thought y/n was very very beautiful and her strong character was surprisingly attractive. He thought her smile was as sweet as honey and there was nothing warmer than her beautiful disposition. And yes, sure, one time when they happened to be together in a bar with mutual friends, not talking to each other of course, he got surprisingly turned on by one look at her bare legs. Although now he thought that that arousal could not even be considered arousal because what he was feeling right now was 10 times stronger. When he realized that if he continued like this he would either go crazy, or unwillingly go and do something.. with her, or cum within a full minute Kakashi went into deep concentration considering the mission.

After a few minutes y/n came out in a plain t-shirt and shorts, no bandages on her arms and legs so now he could see a lot of small cuts on the lenght of her arms. He felt that she could see that he was looking at her and he just kept his eyes on her waiting for her to speak.

"We have very hard endurance training as kids" y/n muttered noticing Kakashi is staring at her "they're not as gentle with us at the academy as they are with you. Especially if you are female."

"I understand" he looked at her with full attention "it must have been difficult for you."

"Of course it was" she threw herself on the bed with a sigh, letting her wet hair fall on the pillow "although we don't talk much about it. What happened happened."

"Does it bother you that I saw?" he left the question floating in the air. Her thighs were dripping with water that she hadn't wiped off. He wondered what it would feel like to run his lips over them.

"No" she fell silent a little and looked him directly in the eye "even though I don't agree with you about some things, I believe you. I've seen how you treat others. You always put someone else's life before your own and I really appreciate that. So the result is that I'm not ashamed of who I am right now. At least not in front of you."

Kakashi's legs walked on their own towards the bed where y/n lay. He wanted to comfort her, he wanted to kiss every cut on her body, he wanted to show her that she can show her vulnerable side. When she saw him coming towards her y/n sat down in a meditation pose leaving room for the ninja to sit on the other end of the bed which he did. When some time had passed Kakashi removed the headband from his other eye and looked at her with both eyes open. He noticed how the girl in front of him was trying like hell not to stare at his sharingan now, her eyes darting left and right as she paid attention to both eyes.

"I'm so sorry" mumbled Kakashi "I'm so fucking sorry for what I said the last time we spoked. If I could, I would do everything differently."

She watched him quietly. Then uncertainly reached out a shaky hand and touched his scar just below his eye which made Kakashi wince. What the hell was he thinking?! If she wanted to, she could have dug out his eye and taken it to the enemy!

"Sleep. Tomorrow is a tough one" he spoke harshly when, without looking at her again, he stood up and went to take a shower. Then hating himself, he entered the room again and saw her pretending to sleep with slightly red eyes from crying.

regrets.

The next day, they were already passing few small communites, moving through the Land of Waves. They only had a few more hours of walking left before they entered the Village Hidden in the Mist, and darkness was already slowly falling. Both of them had bought long coats on their way out of the city, so that the cold, which was slowly but surely getting into their bones, could be endured. However, Kakashi was feverishly aware of one thing – this all seemed too easy. They hadn't encountered a single ninja so far, there was no sign of anyone noticing who y/n was and the road was passable without control.

"Probably because of the cold " y/n mumbled trying to gather the cold mist into droplets on her palm when Kakashi shared his worries with her "I told you people doesn't handle it well enough in these parts."

"Hmm" he watched as the mist and chakra slowly danced and merged at the tip of her palm, making water "it would certainly be good if we didn't linger here for much longer. Considering how in demand you are here and how cold it can be."

"It's good that we left most of the things in that hut" now she let the water slowly drip from her fingers "being overloaded would only slow us down. And since sleeping in any hut here is not an option because of our bountys, and sleeping outside is not because of the cold, we can only finish the mission tonight and return to the hut tomorrow night."

"Sure thing, lady" he hummed.

It was the dead of night when they were half a kilometer from the base, which did not seem protected. Guards were probably inside because of the cold, Kakashi thought. The fog enveloped them and honestly suffocated him slightly even with the mask he always wore. When the wind blew, it would whip his face and make him shake for a moment. It was very cold. He watched as y/n looked at the white rabbit with small cut on right ear in confusion, crouching. He took out his kunai sorry little guy.

"No" she spoke quietly next to him "white rabbits are not always a distraction... don't worry."

"I hope you didn't trick me...trust me i will find out and it won't end well for you."

She glared at him, tilting her head to the side... a sarcastic smile moved to adorn her lips.

"How are you not ashamed?" she whispered, but because of the silence of the night he heard her very well "I sacrificed myself for your village in this half year than for mine my whole fucking life" she poked him in the chest with her finger "I was more polite to you than you deserve. And I would have fucking killed you in your sleep last night if I wanted to."

"You remained as fiery and hot as the last time I saw you" spoke a voice from the shadows behind them. Kakashi lifted his headband and grabbed the shuriken in his pockets. However a stiff y/n caught his attention more.

"Y/n" the copy ninja cracked "y/n what's going on?!"

"Shino..." she whispered confusedly looking into the darkness. How the hell do these swamp ninjas manage to be so damn quiet??

"What's up beautiful," out of the darkness, where y/n was looking, a tall ninja came out with the band of the village hidden in the mist hanging around his neck. His entire body except face was covered in bandages and a blade similar to Zabuza's was attached to his back… this is not good "you know I missed you."

"You tried to kill me" Kakashi watched y/n holding outstretched hand in front of her, chakra on the surface of her palm trembled slightly "I trusted you and you tried to kill me."

"Princess" a sneer was heard in his voice, he raised both hands above his head as if he wanted to show her that he did not want to hurt her "business is business, nothing personal."

"I loved you and you tried to kill me" her voice trembled as she turned her hand upwards and the ninja fell to his knees still with a smile on his face, his blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight

Kakashi tried to use the Sharingan to quickly assess the situation, but realized that there was nothing to be gained from it. The fog was too thick, the night was too dark and he didn't fucking know what to do. Should he summon Pakun? Should he kill the asshole on the spot?

"I see you still like bad boys, princess. But you yourself know that in the end you are regretted by everyone, in the end everyone sees how weak you are." Shino spoke with difficulty on his knees, a grimace on his face, probably due to blood manipulation "you still chose none other than Kakashi of sharingan. I'm impressed" he was looking at Kakashi now, a dirty smile returning to his lips "you know the redwater brothers want you dead ever since you killed Zabuza... that wasn't nice of you Kakashi."

"Ah, business is business, isn't it, nothing personal" Kakashi smiled with his eyes.

"Hah" Shino looked at y/n again "honestly, I never even loved you. What has to happen happens."

Then several things happens at once. Kakashi saw the ninja on his knees turning into water with his sharingan, and heard rustling behind them. Fucking water clone.

"Fucking shit -" Kakashi whispered furiously under his breath, quickly turning on his heels and activating chidori. A few seconds passed before he stood behind y/n shielding her back and pierced the spot where Shino's heart was with his chidori. The ninja fell from his hand, along with his blade with a dull thud. Kakashi turned to look at y/n who was looking at him with wide eyes and felt a searing pain in his chest. With a low curse he fell to his knees as he realised that he was almost cut open in half.

"No!" y/n shouted as she quickly knelt in front of him with her hands glowing with chakra "Kakashi, Kakashi, keep your eyes on mine."

Is this it? He thought as his head reeled. Although his eyes seemed to be open, he saw nothing. He only heard the soft sound of chakra vibrating somewhere nearby and shallow breats. Maybe some whimpers. But he wasn't sure.

"Kakashi! I will never talk to you again if you die now" a distant soft voice cracked "I can't lose you. I don't want to lose you."

"I l-lied" he spoke quietly, not sure if she heard him at all, but he tried anyway "you are very brave... so brave it scares me... So, of c-c-course you are not week. Of course you're not a dis-straction. Of course I don't regret going here with y-you."

"Look at me, I'm begging you."

The last atoms of power Kakashi focused on what appeared to be y/n's face. When his vision sharpened a little he saw a smile or a twitch, he wasn't quite sure, and the beautiful color of the eyes that he had come to love so much.

"You are so beautiful."

lavander.

When Kakashi woke up in a dark room that smelled of lavender he was sure he was dead. He tried to blink hard a few times and shake the sleep from his eyes before he managed to sit up. His mask was still there, though he was dressed in plain clothes and covered with a thick blanket. Although he was warm, the air in room was cold. He realized that he was in the hut where he and y/n had left their things before they went to the Land of Waves. When he turned to the right he saw lavender in a pot and a small letter. He took the letter and began to read.

By all accounts you should wake up before I’m back. I left medicinal herbs, tea and food on your table. Don't even think of touching the bandage. I managed to sew up the wound completely, but it's better that the bandage soaked with medicinal water stays until I return, just in case. Of the flowers in the local flower shop, there were only lavenders because of the winter, I hope you are not allergic. Hehe. I went to get that stupid scroll and finish the mission so I'll be back soon. Don't follow me. You lost a lot of blood and strength. Please wait. I'll be back, trust me.

P.S. I didn't peek under your mask. Pinky promise.

Those few hours in which Kakashi drank all the tea, ate all the food and thought about the best way to go after her, felt like days. He realized with great amazement that y/n had somehow managed to heal entire wound which now only itched, not hurt. He felt very exhausted as he looked out the window at the rain falling wrapped in a blanket. It must have been terribly cold outside. How many days did he sleep? How is y/n? Is she hurt? What if they catch her and kill her? What if she's already dead? How many days has she actually been out of the hut? If she is dead he will kill everyone who is responsible. But he is responsible... He let his guard down and let that jerk almost kill him and that's why y/n is out there alone now. He won't be able to live with himself if she's dead. He was too tired. He will rest for only half an hour more and then he will leave. Towards her. Yes, that sounds like a good idea.

Knock knock.

Kakashi stood up with his heart pounding. They found him. But if they found him that means they will wait there for y/n to come back and then kill her easily. He took the kunai, opened the sharingan eye and cautiously approached the door. He wouldn’t let that happen. When he flung open the door he saw y/n with gentle eyes watching him, a scroll in one hand, a Shino’s blade in the other. She was wearing a normal ninja uniform and was soaked to the core. Y/n smiled widely at him but fatigue was very visible on her face. Her body was shaking uncontrollably from the cold.

"Oh thank heavens, you're awake" it came as sigh from her lips "I didn't want to drop any of this on the floor. Sorry if you had to get up. Everything went smoothly. Mission is complete."

He quietly helped her inside, took the things from her hands and put them on the floor. When he went to turn on the shower so that somehow hot water would warm up y/n he realized that there was no use because the water had frozen in the pipes.

"The shower doesn't work" he rasped and realized that it was probably the first thing he had said in days "change into something dry. We need to warm you up."

Kakashi then placed 2 blankets over each other on his bed and pulled y/n who was now only in a t-shirt and shorts (because that was the only thing dry) into bed with him. He hugged her tightly, limbs completely intertwined, his hands rubbing hers, trying to bring some warmth back into her body. All this with full awareness of how she was lying next to him in just shorts and a t-shirt. He fought the growing erection in his underwear, thinking about anything but the woman in his arms that he wanted more than anything else.

"I thought you were going to die" she spoke quietly against his chest, probably more to herself than to him, but he certainly heard her very clearly.

"You saved my life, Thank you" he mumbled against her hair.

Now she cocked her head hard and fast locking her eyes with his, fire in them, just the way Kakashi loved it.

"If it wasn't for you, I would be dead" she snapped angrily, holding his gaze with hers, now he kept his sharingan eye open "I just did one tolerable, but miserable thing."

"You are extraordinary. Really. I’m all heald now thanks to you. When I woke up today I felt like whole new person. Thank you" he lightly touched her cheek with his hand "And I don't know if that went through your crazy little head, but the last thing I want is to let people I care about die while I'm just watching from the sidelines. That very much includes you."

As if momentarily embarrassed, she looked away from him and brought her head back to rest on his chest. She breathed deeply.

When he noticed that the normal temperature was slowly returning to her body and the shivers stopped being so strong Kakashi let out a soft laugh.

"I don’t believe a thing you say,"

"What?" y/n cocked her head again looking into Kakashi's one open eye with a confused expression. That made him grin even wider.

"I don't believe you didn't look under the mask."

The girl in his arms scoffed looking at him with mocking eyes "My curiosity is big, but not so much that I want to play dirty. If i really wanted to see what's underneath I'd make you show me yourself."

"And?" Kakashi felt his breath slowly run out of anticipation "do you want to see it that badly?"

She looked at his mask silently then studied his open eye.

"You want to show me?" she asked quietly, and he just continued to watch her, with an unknown glow. She slowly removed both hands from the blanket and ran her fingers to the top of his mask. Her hands were shaking slightly and Kakashi realized with something, ah here it is again, very warm in his stomach that she wasn't shaking from the cold this time. Y/n slowly removed the mask from his face as he watched her carefully. When the whole cloth was finally removed, she sighed deeply. A soft smile graced her lips.

"Ah, what a disappointment" her gaze circled all over his face "nothing of the huge lips and horse teeth."

Kakashi felt his lips curl into a smile. He hugged her a little tighter.

"You are so beautiful. Gorgeous even." she looked him in the eye and now he was terribly, terribly hot all over. No one ever addressed those words to him. His body just moved closer to her until her lips were only inches away from his. He felt her breath brush his lips. He was waiting for her to do something… anything.. to give him the green light. Because no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't move on his own. Such tender and fragile moments were not frequent in his life, and suddenly he was terribly afraid of breaking this too. However when y/n pressed her lips to his all worries were quickly erased from his mind.

They kissed deeply and slowly as he ran his hands all over her body. He made sounds he didn't know he was capable of, but realized that nothing compared to her sighs and moans from the kiss. He slowly moved from her lips to her neck which he had been watching for so long as they talked months from now, taking deep breaths.

"How perfect you are" he murmured as she melted in his arms. She ran her hands first over his shoulders, then his back, finally letting her hands go under his shirt. He moaned burying his head deeper into her neck.

"Kakashi..." came out of her mouth like a plea, as if it was too much for her.

"I know y/n, I know," he breathed a big, hard sigh as he held her hips tightly so she wouldn't move against him anymore. It was very clear to him that she felt how much he wanted her. And he now wanted her to show her how much he wanted her "can I touch you?"

She looked at him with a warm look and red cheeks, then nodded briskly.

He let his hand dance from her neck, over her stomach, down to her lower abdomen where he pressed his hand firmly.

He kissed all over her hands, all the little cuts he'd seen just a few days before.

"Perfect. So fucking perfect. Lift your hips for me pretty girl" he whispered softly.

When he took off her shorts and realized how wet she was, he almost cummed In his pants at that moment.

He just touched her enterance briefly and she moaned leaning into his touch. Nothing has happened yet and he was so fucking turned on. Turned on by her smooth skin, maddening smell, her sighs, moans... This is 100x better than any erotic novel. He slowly kissed her clit, than licked it experimentally. Y/n closed her eyes and left her hands flying to his hair, hips bucking up to meet his mouth.

'Look at me, let me see you" he darkly whispered against her pussy, looking at her with his both eyes. He then licked and sucked her swollen clit, eyes never leaving hers, making her moaning mess.

"Fuck Kakashi, fuck" she cried pressing one hand against her mouth, than changing mind and letting that hand grip on his hair too "i need you now. Please."

He stopped for a second watching her.

"Are you.. -"

"Yes, yes, and don’t you fucking dare to leave now."

"Sure thing pretty lady" he smiled against her heat.

He took his time, exploring every exposed piece of skin now that he took her t-shirt off too. He blinked open the sharingan again and he was so damn happy that he could predict how she would react to every touch. He looked at her; sprawled out underneath him, with her face flushed, lips swollen.

"Have I ever told you that you are perfect?" he had that boyish smile now, looking at her lovingly.

"Pervert" she grinned while kissing him quickly.

"Ah yes" he left few kisses to her neck again "I remember you calling me that a few times" he put his fingers on her clit making her to squirm with embarrassment.

"Please Kakashi" her voice was so fucking sweet "I need you. Please."

"Need you too" he mumbled against her lips "so much. My beautiful girl."

Then all he could feel was her. She clouded all five senses and he felt like he was going insane. It was over far too quickly.

"Madness" he whispered in her ear and nuzzled her neck, thrusting deep and steady "you are madness."

He gave a few last thrusts and reached down with his hand to help her finish. It wasn’t long until she was writhing and whimpering underneath him.

He kissed the top of her head before he pulled her into him protectively, feeling sleepy. Enjoying the feeling of her skin flush against his, her sweet smell and now steady breaths he felt his body completely relaxing.

As he slowly drifted off to sleep he asked quietly against her hair "do you want to go out sometime?"

#kakashi smut #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake #kakashi #kakashi x you #kakashi ff #kakashi sensei #naruto #naruto smut #smut #slow burn #in love #anime #fancition #anime smut #kakashi x y/n

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heartpascal · 1 year ago

Text

is it freedom?

▹— spiderverse (future) found family x platonic!reader

▹— summary: after losing everything, you struggle to accept the one thing you needed all along.

▹— a/n: ok i have been enabled by exactly two (2!) people. (thank you both) SO dare i start a spiderverse series??? IF YALL WANT MORE OF THIS… I WILL DO IT. this is really just a set up thing idk but i feel like arachnid has potential for further parts and ACTUAL found family!! also haven’t tagged people on my general taglist bc idk if you guys want to be tagged in ALL works or just all pedro works :(

▹— warnings: slight across the spiderverse spoilers, not really found family yet, injuries, blood, treating own injuries, stitches, fighting (canon-typical violence yall), dead parents (mentioned a LOT), a whole lot of angst (it’s a spider-person so what do we expect), reader has a whole lot of bad thoughts, loneliness, isolation

masterlist PART TWO

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Had you known what this, this thing, would lead to, you would have never started it. Not that you had done so purposely, at least to begin with, more so happening as an event of pure chance. You were in the right place at the right time, and since then, you had been addicted.

But if you could go back, look at yourself just a year younger than you are now, tell that kid what would come if you went through with saving a life for the first time, you wondered. It was a question that scratched deep in your brain, sending you off balance the more you thought about it; would you have still done it? Would you have saved that person’s life, knowing it would lead to your own falling apart?

You would like to think yes. In fact, you know that back then, when your eyes were bright at the prospect of helping people, when you still marvelled at the world like it was good, you would have been certain that it would be worth it. Why should that person die, just to save you? It’s a harrowing realisation. A conclusion that makes your fingers tremble, your voice shake. Now, you’re not sure you would do it. You don’t think you could bear to face that decision knowing what you know of the world around you now.

It’s something cruel, really, that the spider that bit you gave you these powers, and nothing to go back and fix your mistakes. Your perceived victories. Your losses.

But the worst has already happened, and the only one left to die is you, so you carry on. You don the suit every day, you sew up your own injuries on the top floor of the abandoned offices that you’ve claimed as your own. Each day, you wake when you choose, you sleep when you want to, and you work yourself down to your very bones with nobody to object.

The hollow feeling in your gut is a pain you have no choice to ignore, to smother with assurances that this is freedom. What else could it be? You do whatever you so please, you spend your time swinging through the streets of New York rather than doing schoolwork at home, you eat all the junk you could ever have wanted.

It’s freedom. It has to be.

You tell yourself that you don’t miss the home part of having to do schoolwork, promise your heart that you don’t miss home-cooked meals as opposed to greasy food that leaves you unsatisfied. You swear that you like having nobody to tell you what to do. There’s no other choice, after all.

And each day, when you spend a little bit longer out on the streets, getting yourself into needless fights that the police could certainly handle, you tell yourself it’s because you’re protecting the city. You convince yourself that it’s not because of having an unending rage to satiate, or a permanent feeling of breathlessness when you leave police to handle anything, as if you could relive the moment your father, the captain, was left to handle something he couldn’t.

So, you’re almost relieved by the appearance of something… strange. Something dangerous. This is what you live for — this is your job.

You crouch against the wall, fingers splayed and suit itching where you had crudely sewn it back together across your ribs at an almost too-close call. You hold your breath, you watch. The lenses over your eyes shield your sensitive sight from the harshest colours of this new opponent, who looks almost… unreal. Too different to be a part of reality. He yells out, seemingly glitching? A distorted scream of what is apparently pain, accompanied by flashes of colour that are unfamiliar to you.

“Well, that doesn’t look good.” You comment, eyebrows raised beneath your mask, and the strange looking guy snaps his head towards you, long hair slapping across the goggles over his eyes. He bares his teeth at you, something almost resembling a grin marring his face.

“Spider-man!” He yells triumphantly, cackling as he wipes the hair away from his face, tendrils unfurling from behind his back and lifting him into the air.

“Not quite!” You call back, dodging below the metallic arm that shoots towards where your head was, crumbling through the wall. You try to think back to the jokes you used to tell to rile up whoever you were facing, but find your mind is blank. Instead, all you can think of is questions. “Where the hell did you come from, anyway?”

The man follows you as you spring from wall to wall, heading towards the center of the building where it tunnels up for about forty floors, balconies overlooking the fountain below. “A new spider, eh? Well I’ll take you down just as easily as I have the other!” He tells you, though you’re immediately suspicious of his statement. You’re the only Spider-related hero around, and even if you weren’t, you doubt this guy could squash a worm, let alone you.

“Sure thing, man.” You say, sighing, already exhausted by the repetitiveness that comes with every fight. Your opponents always say they’ll beat you, kill you, squish you, take you down, and yet you always get back up at the end of the fight, and they always remain defeated. When you started doing this, you never would have thought you’d get so tired from winning all the time.

And yet here you are, slipping further and further up the building with the octopus-looking guy chasing after you, metal arms crumbling walls and bannisters on his way up. He falters once more, another one of those glitch-like movements sending him down a few floors, but he’s quick to recover. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.

You crouch down on one balcony, somewhere around the thirty mark floor-wise, peering down at the guy as he shakes lingering pain from his body. He charges upwards, aiming to reach you quickly with an almost predatory smirk on his face. Before he can even get close to you, however, you’re back on the move, setting a trap for him that he doesn’t even seem to notice.

It’s only when a group of late workers emerge on what you’re pretty sure is the twenty-first floor that you become more anxious about this fight. You don’t like when civilians are involved.

There’s about a dozen of them crowding the balcony, looking up to where you’re facing off with octopus-man above, some having begun to descend the stairs to the next floor before catching on to your presence. You try not to draw attention to them, but their pointing and whispering sets the Spidey-sense off, ringing loudly between your ears, almost deafening in its intensity. Maybe you underestimated this guy. The flash of a camera sends the last hope of him not noticing down the drain, and he grins at you as he switches targets, climbing down towards them with some semblance of caution.

You’re much faster than he is, dropping down and using a web to catch yourself rather than having to climb. It’s hard to stop yourself from yelling at them, cursing them out for being so damn foolish — who in their right mind would stick around a very dangerous fight to take pictures?

Instead, you choose to yell, “Get out! Go, go, go.” And usher them down the stairs, but it’s not difficult to realise that this guy is going to get to them before they manage to descend to the bottom. You shouldn’t be surprised, really. Nothing is ever as simple as it could be, not for you.

The split second decision to drop down and form a net-like web low enough to catch the workers worked out for you in the end, as you swung back up and pushed the workers off of the balcony and stairway just as the octopus man was reaching them. He cursed at you, refocusing his efforts on you as you vaguely noted the workers clambering down after their screaming had stopped. Honestly — did people really have so little faith in you? Had you ever sent anybody to their death before?

“You are just as pesky of an insect as Spider-man!” He growled out, teeth gritted, and came after you with renewed force. He kind of reminded you of that doctor you faced not long after getting your powers, but this guy looked completely different. The doctor you faced — aptly named Doc Ock — had turned himself into some form of a mutant, he had reinforced tentacles which sprouted from his back. Was this guy some kind of copy cat? Maybe he was just delusional.

“I don’t know who Spider-man is, man!” You shout to him as you ascend the building again, trying to figure out the best way to take this guy down. His tentacles seem electronic, so surely you could disable whatever machinery resides on his back?

“That’d be me.” A voice came from above you, two floors ahead of your position. Your head snapped towards it, seeing a man in a blue and red suit, framed by a burst of orange behind him. He didn’t linger up there long, instead moving to leap down to the guy who had turned his attention to the new guy. The closer you looked at this new guy, the more similarities you saw to yourself — his webs looked remarkably similar to your own, the pattern that went across his suit matched your own, even the wide white lenses that shielded your eyes on your mask. Who the hell was this guy?

The octopus man grinned widely, shaking greasy hair from his face. “Ah, finally! The real Spider-man. Got yourself a new protégé, I see.” He drawled, dodging this new guy’s hit straight off of the bat. You tried not to get annoyed at being referred to as a protégé, considering as far as you were aware, you were the only Spider-person around. Where was this guy when you were holding a bridge full of civilians together? Where was he when you took down villain after villain, never once failing to get the guy? No — you were the real Spider-man, if anyone.

“I don’t know who you are, man, but I’m handling this just fine.” You call to the guy, swinging down to rejoin the fight, webbing the villain’s metal tentacles to the wall behind him, before dropping down to kick him towards the wall.

“Oh, so you know how to send this guy back to his own dimension?” Spider-man asks you, eyebrows raised beneath his mask, and as if on cue, the guy glitches once more, ripping his arms away from the wall and just about catching himself on a balcony below before he could fall into your net.

You gape at the new guy, glancing back up to where the burst of orange remains opened, and is that a portal? Is this Spider-man from another dimension? Is that why you’ve never heard of him before? God, if your mother was alive, she’d kill to find out about this. Inter-dimensional travel was something she had spent her life researching. If you didn’t remain so bitter toward her even after her death, you might’ve been sad she wasn’t alive to see this.

But you were bitter, and it made the experience all the worse.

Because you’re pretty sure that that bitterness takes the place of grief within you. It’s hard to understand why you crave to feel that pain, that grief, as opposed to the aching resentment that floods you with the thought of her. It’s such a sharp contrast to thinking of your father, your kind father, the man who threw himself into a battle he couldn’t have hoped to survive, just on the off chance he could save somebody. You hope you take after him.

“Wait— you’re from another dimension?” You question anyway, eyes flickering between the battle and the looming portal above. In fact, you’re so distracted by finding out about that tidbit of information that you miss octopus man aim a tentacle for you, and it snatches you around the ankle. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me—!”

The man waves you around like some kind of rag doll, and you try not to be too bitter about being caught off guard. You should probably learn that getting caught up in your little pity party always ends up badly, always distracts you from that renowned Spidey-sense. You formulate a plan in your mind when the drip of blood around your ankle draws your attention back to the battle at hand.

You web the wall opposite and hold on tight, pausing the movements and letting the dizziness that had come over you fade away. The man growls out in annoyance, and gets closer to cut the webs with another tentacle, which is exactly what you planned for. The tension from the webs launches you towards him when you let go, and in his surprise, the metal tentacle releases you. You wrap around him, and start webbing up the machinery embedded in his back as Spider-man distracts most of the tentacles, keeping them from pulling you off.

His tentacles start faltering, clearly not obeying his movements, and you wrap them up where they emerge from his back, continuing along until the movement is so limited that he has to use them all to clutch onto the nearest balcony.

You crawl up the tentacles in the very same spidery manner that you’re known for, and crouch, watching the octopus man struggle as Spider-man observes from the balcony opposite. “You wanna finish this one off, Spider-man?” You ask, unable to hide any bitterness from your tone at his mostly unhelpful actions throughout the battle.

“Hey, not bad!” He praises, and it annoys you. You’re good at what you do — for the most part. You manage without help constantly, and that’s the way you prefer it. “You’d make a good addition to the Spider Society!”

Now, you don’t know what the Spider Society is. But honestly? You don’t care. You don’t need help, and you prefer working alone, and you certainly don’t like feeling patronised.

“Whatever, man. Just send him back to whatever dimension he came from.” You tell the guy, and drop down as you hear sirens outside, landing on your injured ankle and just about stopping yourself from cursing. Through all the adrenaline and fighting, you’d forgotten about the way the metal had ripped into your skin, drawn blood. It’s just be another place you’d have to sew up your suit with itchy, uneven stitching. “Officers,” You greet as they open the doors, guns drawn, radios murmuring. “All taken care of. Civilians okay?”

“Shaken up, but fine.” The leading police officer says, immediately relaxing and holstering his weapon. You wish it reassured you that the police trusted you now, but it didn’t. Nonetheless, the other officers follow suit. “Thank you, Arachnid.”

The name your world has bestowed upon you has yet to grow on you, but you nod your head regardless, and salute them as you make your way out, swinging across the city, trying to put the existence of the multiverse and inter-dimensional travel out of your mind. Surprisingly, it’s pretty easy when you have a busted ankle to fix up.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You’re halfway through stitching up your suit, having already sewn your skin back together with as much skill as you possessed in the matter — which was, not much. But the bleeding has stopped, and your stupidly slow healing will take care of it within a few days. You know that the itchy stitches on your suit will just irritate the injury, and though you wouldn’t lose anything if your identity was revealed, it doesn’t feel right to go out into the city with any part of you on show.

No, you wear the suit for a reason. You keep every part of yourself covered because nobody can know it’s you underneath the suit. Not because you had anything to lose, no, you had already lost everything. It was because then you could never make a mistake, you would have to be absolutely perfect, flawless, to make up for the fact that it was you underneath the layer.

So, you settle with a sewn suit that will itch and make the stitches on your ankle sting.

However, when there’s a burst of orange across the room, you have no choice but to forgo the suit, to simply drop the needle and thread and hover your fingers over your web shooters. You wait, nervously, for some other villain to appear. You’re not sure if Spider-man appearing would be better or worse.

But when a foot steps through the portal, it’s nobody familiar. In fact, it’s a suit you have never seen before, made up of dark blues and bright reds, sharp edges and long claws. It’s… unnerving, and considering the silence coming from the person wearing it, you’re not entirely certain of what they’re here for.

A moment later and another person steps through, a woman, with bright yellow lenses across her eyes that filter her irises into an amber. She steps forward, standing beside the person who had stepped through first, and if she hadn’t showed up, you would’ve been tempted to attack. With that being said, you remain on edge, but there’s something… comforting about her presence. Like her presence softens the man’s jagged edges.

She says your name, and then adds, “Arachnid.”

You furrow your brows and curse as you glance back at the suit so crudely laid out on the floor. Still, it doesn’t explain how she knows your name. Was it an inter-dimensional thing?

“Spider-man told us about your work in capturing Doc Ock earlier.” She tells you, as if that explains their presence. You did what you were supposed to do, which was take out the bad guys. “We’re here to offer you a place in the Spider Society.”

You can’t help but wonder if this is some kind of good cop, bad cop thing. She presents an offer which doesn’t sound too bad, and then her sharp-edged companion presents all the drawbacks and the catches. They don’t seem like the type to take no for an answer, either way. You still don’t even know what this Spider Society was! Was it some kind of multi-dimensional cult?

“I already told Spider-man that I wasn’t interested in joining whatever cult you’ve got going on.” You practically hiss, though you didn’t exactly tell him in such blatant words. You were more dismissive earlier, so you’d have to be clear now.

“It’s not a cult,” The man speaks, voice harsh and sharp much like the blades that branch from his forearms. “We work to protect the multiverse from anomalies that threaten to destroy it.”

The woman glances at him in a way that you translate as being vaguely annoyed, like he wasn’t approaching you in the way she had wanted him to. “He means to say that it’s a big job, and we need all the help we can get.” She says, softer, but only in comparison to the man’s harshness. “Listen, kid, you’re good at what you do. We need that kind of talent.”

“You’ll have to find it somewhere else.” You say firmly, because why would you want to leave your universe? This was a lot to think about when you had only learned of the multiverse existing mere hours ago. Regardless, you weren’t about to abandon your city just to go across the multiverse to help other heroes who couldn’t keep a leash on their own villains.

The two of them shared a look, a mere glance, before the woman heaved a sigh. “Look,” She sighed, heavily, like whatever she was about to say was something she didn’t want to be voicing. “Before you make your choice, you should know, your Green Goblin is currently terrorising another universe.”

You couldn’t work out if this was some kind of recruitment tactic, or something. That just wasn’t possible. You had put Gwen Stacy in the highest security prison after all antidotes to her goblin-tech failed. She was stuck in there — permanently. There was no way she had gotten out, let alone gotten out to another universe.

…Right?

It’s hard not to think of the memories at the mention of her—Green Goblin, not Gwen Stacy. Never Gwen Stacy. You wonder if this is where your fear comes from, the terrifying fact that you are remembered only for your mistakes. Because before she was the Green Goblin, she was Gwen. She was everything to you. She was the sun you orbited, the stars that charted your path. And it hurts, it hurts that you can only remember the blood and the dust and the destruction when you think of her.

People aren’t born as monsters, are they?

Like the spider that bit you, that invertebrate that so many fear, it was born the way it was. It was born with those fang-lined maws, with those eight legs and dozens of eyes. It was made into the monster it became, artificially crafted to deliver a venom that changed you forever. But it wasn’t born that way.

Surely, Gwen wasn’t either. She was kind. You remember that about her. You can remember her soft hands that used to hold your own, the loud laughter that always ended in a snort when she laughed at her own jokes, the gentle eyes that stared into your very soul. But those eyes are the very same ones that let her see through your mask, let her see exactly where to hit you to make it hurt. Was that what she was born as? Or is that what she was made into? A killer. A monster.

“Show me.” You say, because what else could you possibly respond? If what they’re saying is true, if the Green Goblin is loose once more, then people will die.

You can’t let her get fresh blood on her hands. Not when somewhere, deep inside your chest, so far down it’s almost unreachable, you have hope for her. You have an innate desire to look for the best in her, even when the Gwen you knew was the first life that the Green Goblin took.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

If there’s one thing you’ve taken from being Arachnid, it’s to expect the unexpected. And you go through the orange portal after Jessica Drew and Miguel O’Hara with that exact mindset about you, staring at where an orange watch-like device is wrapped around your wrist.

It’s in your nature to be suspicious, and these people weren’t an exception to that.

In fact, their presence only heightened that behaviour. After all, what were you to expect from two Spider people, who supposedly came to you for your help?

You weren’t blind, you saw the aged lines of their faces the moment you got close enough to see them clearly, away from the dim lighting of the building. They were adults, adults who had clearly been doing this type of thing a lot longer than you had. You, who was barely bordering on adult, who had fought enough battles already to last a lifetime — so why would they need you?

It didn’t feel right.

And when this Miguel person summoned Lyla the moment you walked through the portal, it felt all the more wrong. She was a hologram of some kind, much higher tech than the kind of thing you saw on your earth. But then again, you had never really been in high tech labs back in your earth. Still, it unsettled you. “Lyla, get me the location of Green Goblin, Earth 5011.” He commanded, and they argued in hushed voices for a moment, before a wider hologram appeared, stamped at Earth 3899.

“How did she get to another universe?” You ask, then, because it doesn’t make sense, and you’re shaking underneath the thin material of your suit. You’re hyper aware of each drag of stitching against the wound on your leg, each patch of fabric you had sewn on in hopes of the suit lasting you just a little longer, because you didn’t have the resource to produce a new one.

“It’s an anomaly.” Jessica Drew tells you, her tone softer than you’d heard it, as if she was attempting to reassure you in some way.

It didn’t help. But how could it? The last time you had faced Gwen Stacy—Green Goblin— you had lost so much. It had been the beginning of the end of everything good in your life. The explosion she had caused at your mother’s laboratory was the very same one that killed her, the very same explosion that sent you and your dad miles apart all while living in the same home. And still, you found a way to hope that there was something to salvage within Gwen.

But not only had you lost your mother, and not long after — your father, you had also lost your closest friend. The one person you had confided in, who knew you from your surface to the deepest level, and she had used that against you the moment the Goblin had taken over.

It had taken everything in you to beat her, back then.

And that was on home turf! How did these people expect you to do that a second time, in a completely unfamiliar place?

“Specifics aren’t important right now. Jessica, you take Arachnid. Lyla, send another one of the teams.” Miguel instructed, dismissing your questions right off the bat. It was frustrating. They were leaving you completely in the dark, and sending you to fight the worst enemy you had ever faced, and they were sending you alongside others like you from different universes. It was like asking you to bare your soul in front of them, to reveal your secrets, your deepest regrets, everything that you wanted to stay buried.

You knew Green Goblin. You knew that’s exactly what she would do. She would undermine you, she would lay your life out in front of you like tiles on a scrabble board. In the end, none of it amounted to much.

Jessica Drew made her way out, glancing at you and nodding for you to follow along. Your moment of hesitation had drawn Miguel’s attention, and he called out to you after a moment of hesitation. “We’ve all faced one like it, kid. It’s easier with others.” He told you, though he held a pained expression on his face all the while. Instead of admitting to the way he had hit the nail right on the head, you simply nodded and followed after Spider-woman.

It was a whirlwind from there.

Meeting up with others. Travelling the length of the so-called Lobby to wherever it was that Jessica was taking you. When you finally arrived, she offered an empty glass box with a mannequin inside, bare. She gestured towards it like it should’ve been self explanatory, but soon realised she’d have to spell it out for you.

You shouldn’t have been so upset by the offer of a new suit.

But you were.

This suit was your life. You had nothing outside of it, not anymore. You couldn’t just throw it away, as if it meant nothing, as if every rip and patch and wonky stitch didn’t mean anything. These were proof that what you were doing was real, that it was worth something. Each stitch proved you had value. You weren’t about to throw all of that away, especially for whatever overly technical suit these people would provide.

You had everything you needed.

And so Jessica led you to the next destination: Earth 3899.

The moment you stepped through the portal, it was like you were hit with a wave of familiarity. And not in a positive, slightly nostalgic way, no— this was chaos. This was the state your world had been in when Green Goblin ran riot, unchecked. She had torn apart buildings, blown up parks, she had set New York City aflame. And she was doing exactly the same here.

It was more contained here than it had been on your earth, and you had to assume that was thanks to the Spider-man already on site, coordinating police, ambulance and fire responses to douse the fires as quickly as she set them. If only the police in your city had trusted you so much, back then.

“Where is she?” You ask, the moment you get close enough to speak to the resident Spider-man of the universe. He looks at you as if you’re familiar, but doesn’t comment, instead just pointing a finger toward a skyscraper just a short way ahead. You’re gone the moment he tells you where to go.

She had the uncanny ability to stay quiet. It had freaked you own back on your own earth, but it was even more terrifying here, where things were ever so slightly different.

“Arachnid.” Gwen’s voice called, and for a moment, you could forget. You could forget every horrible thing the Goblin had done, and you could remember your friend, your Gwen, who had called out to Arachnid more than once without knowing it was you behind the mask. Whether it was for a story or to provide information on your most recent opponent, the voice calling your alias was familiar. But then there was that crackle of laughter, an unnatural gurgle in the way it left her throat, and you turned to see the green-tinged pallor of her skin. “I was so hoping you’d show up.”

You didn’t know how much her appearance would effect you, until you were stuck to the side of the building, staring at what had once been your best friend. You’re so choked up that you can’t even formulate a response, because you want that to be Gwen so badly, but you know it isn’t. The more you look at her, the more Goblin you see, the more you know that the Gwen you love is never coming back.

“Nothing to say?” She asks, and then says your real name, the name she used to say down the crackle of a phone line, or across the school hallway, and she smiles. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“You should’ve stayed in prison, Gwen.” You say, your voice unsteady as you say her name aloud for the first time in what must be forever. She seems to relish in the tremble of your voice, and you have to curse yourself for being so stupid, for already showing the vulnerability she was so easily able to pick out.

The Green Goblin tutted at you, stood atop her glider, but the smile you saw didn’t belong to Gwen. “You’re pathetically predictable, you know. You’re like a moth to the flame.” She tells you, and you fear that she’s right, that you’re the same person you were back when you fought her, back when she almost won. She sighs, like something heavy is weighing upon her, but it turns wistful in the blink of an eye. “I’m just glad your dad isn’t here to see this. He’d be so disappointed.”

“Arachnid, focus.” Jessica’s voice interrupts, before you can spiral down that rabbit hole. How did Gwen even know about your father? She was in prison long before he died. It didn’t make sense.

“Maybe,” You say, that familiar tremble around your words. “He did always hope for the best for you.”

She bares her teeth at your words, the only visible reaction before her mask is slipping over the bottom of her face, stretching out up to pointed ears, all metallic and tinted a murky green. Then, she’s attacking.

It’s muscle memory, mostly, you think.

If you don’t think too hard about it, it could be like playing a game with a longtime friend from your childhood. You know the moves to make, you know how she’ll respond. It’s a constant push and pull, a balance which leaves only destruction behind, the path of the Green Goblin’s wrath tangible in each battle scene the two of you leave behind. You can’t beat her like this.

It’s her glitching that gives you a slight upper hand — and you send her careening off of her glider to the ground below.

Your heart squeezes suddenly in your chest as you watch her fall, her eyes wide in what could almost be perceived as fear. If you didn’t intervene, would she die? Would you have put an end to her story, once and for all, when you secretly hope there’s a cure out there for her? You can’t bear the thought of finding out, of watching her die, and so you foolishly dive after her.

A web to her midsection allows you to grip her before she hits the ground, and you set her down with a far more gentle hand than you would ever admit.

She says your name, then, a whispered version of it that sounds like Gwen. You think you can see her in those wide blue eyes, in that stare, and you approach with some caution. “Gwen,” You say, more of a question, “You with me?”

“I’m with you,” She answers, as you reach her side, as you resist the urge to pull off your mask. You’re so preoccupied staring at her expression that you don’t see the blade until it’s too late, your Spidey-sense failing you as you wallowed in your search for someone who was gone. “You sweet, predictable bug.” She spits then, twisting the blade she had sunk deep into your side, and you writhe, trying to move away from her.

“Arachnid!” Jessica Drew calls out, drawing the Green Goblin’s attention, allowing you to pull away from her slackened grasp. You leave the blade where it is, knowing your only slightly enhanced healing wouldn’t make up for the onslaught of blood that would pour from the wound. “I think that’s enough, Green Goblin.” Jessica says, riding a motorbike that you swore she didn’t have earlier. Nonetheless, she uses it to put even more space between you and your villain.

“You need a hand, kid?” A new voice asks, and a gloved hand reaches out for you where you had knelt against the tarmac. You look up, seeing a new Spider-man, but this one has his mask up, showing off his aged face and the bags underneath his eyes. You wave him off, staggering up to your feet, and clench your jaw as you stare at Green Goblin, watch as she pulls bombs from her waistband, barely the size of a chocolate bar, but capable of causing irreparable damage. “Get back to HQ, Arachnid, we can handle this.” Spider-man tells you, in what you suspect to be a fatherly voice, but you ignore him.

Time flies, slips out of your grasp, and you don’t know how long you and the others spend fighting Green Goblin, but she proves to be just as difficult of a foe for them to face as she was for you. Each time the three of you manage to get the drop on her, she slips away before she could be caught. It’s frustrating, and you can even see the way irritation thickens in the air, tangible.

Spider-man, or Peter, as Jessica had called him, is with you, focusing on trying to take Green Goblin down, whilst Jessica Drew is focused on damage control, blowing up Gwen’s bombs before they could hit their intended targets. You’re pretty sure the resident Spider-man is around here, too, pulling any lingering citizens out of harms way before Green Goblin could end them. You’d admit, it works better than you had done alone back on your own earth.

But it doesn’t work well enough, and more than one building is damaged almost beyond repair, and in the dust and rubble, Peter was distracted by the few citizens poking their heads out of the gaping hole in the side of their apartments. He didn’t see Green Goblin coming until it was too late, until she had thrown two of her bombs, one towards him, and one towards the already wrecked building.

Your throat dries up as you try to figure out what to do, who to go for, but in the end, you don’t have to choose.

Beams of glowing orange webs shoot into the bombs where they arc towards their victims, blowing them up and leaving both Peter and the civilians in the apartments without a scratch on any of them. Well, nothing that wasn’t already there before. You see him then, running alongside Jessica Drew, none other than Miguel O’Hara — who clearly didn’t think that the three of you were capable of handling Green Goblin.

“We’ve gotta end this.” Peter tells the three of you, glaring over at Green Goblin after coming so close to one of her bombs.

“You distract, I’ll go in.” You say, the only plan that makes sense. The only plan that’ll work. You wouldn’t be much use as a distraction, not with the blood still pooling around the blade hanging from your side, but you could beat her. You knew you could.

Peter nodded, and he, Jessica and Miguel went in one after another, landing hits on Green Goblin before she could even think to withdraw another bomb, or land a hit of her own, whilst you made your way behind her, swinging as high as you dared to go in your state. She was getting angry, you could tell, a distinct flush rushing up the back of her neck, a tell that Green Goblin shared with Gwen.

It was only when she was starting to turn the tide that you jumped down from your spot against the side of a building, looking for your opening.

She sent Jessica Drew tumbling off of her motorbike, which was your chance.

Green Goblin heard you only a moment before you were on her, not giving her a chance to make a countermove. Instead, you were curling your arms around her, as tight as you could, holding her hands away from her waistband. You gripped the blade in your side and yanked it out, holding it to her chest, breathing heavily through the pain as you bared your teeth at her, her face beside your own.

“Don’t make me kill you.” You say, and try not to hear the pleading in your own voice, the distinctive tone of a beg. You may have the upper hand on her, but as always, she had the power. “Don’t.” You repeat, because you can feel it in your bones that you would do it. If it was the choice between her or the hundreds that she would kill on this world, it would be those hundreds. There was no doubt about it, no questions to be asked.

You may have resented your mother, but she wasn’t the only one who died because of the Green Goblin. You wouldn’t let that happen again.

Perhaps she heard the plea in your voice, the giveaway that you weren’t bluffing, because she went still in your arms, still enough for the other Spiders to approach with some caution, eyes on her hands where you held them away from any weapons, using your forearm connected to the hand holding the blade to her chest to keep her left hand from grasping anything.

“I won’t be asking again.” You tell her, which is as much of a threat as you can muster. Or, more so, a promise.

As Miguel pushed you back with a firm hand, throwing a machine at Gwen’s feet, you think she understands. If the two of you are ever in that position again, there will be no hesitation about it. You will kill her.

“Good work, kid.” Peter says as Miguel and Jessica get to work with getting your Green Goblin through a portal to the HQ. He glanced down at where your hand is now pressing into your side, blood pouring steadily. In your other hand, you still hold the blade that had pierced your own skin, that would have killed Gwen Stacy had she not surrendered. He winces as if it’s him who got hurt, and guides you through the portal after the others. “C’mon, we’ll get you checked out. You not got enhanced healing?” He asks, though you suspect he doesn’t expect you to answer, and you’re glad.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“I can do this myself, you know.” You sigh, wincing as a Spider-man — who apparently is also a doctor and works in the Spider Society’s infirmary — stitches up the wound on your midsection. It’s uncomfortable, though less painful that when you do it yourself. Still, it’s uncomfortable to accept help from these strangers.

“Ooh, shouldn’t say that to him.” Peter B. Parker laughs, one of the many Peter Parkers of the Society, but the same one who had fought Green Goblin with you. “He’ll lecture you on proper healthcare for days if you give him the opportunity!”

The Spider-doctor glares at Peter, or you assume he does, from the slight squint of the lenses of his mask. He kisses his teeth under the mask, tutting, muttering about “Spiders and their complete disregard for their health. Lucky you haven’t died ten times over from infections.” But he doesn’t say anything that requires a response from you, and he soon finished up the stitches. He goes to offer to fix up the injury on your ankle, but you’re up on your feet before he can even get the words out.

“Now, I gotta get back home to the wife, but Miguel wants to see you. He’ll take you home,” Peter tells you as he walks out of the infirmary by your side, but he stops you in the hallway with a hand on your shoulder, surprisingly gentle. “If that’s what you want.”

Your eyebrows furrowed before you could stop them, and the confusion over his words must’ve been written all over your face.

“Why wouldn’t I want that?” You ask, defensively.

Peter opens his mouth, but nothing escapes. Instead, it’s his expression that tells you everything he’s thinking. The crease between his brows screams pitying, or sympathetic. He’s talking about the way you live back on your earth, about the life you lead, Arachnid by day, and by night. With no room for you, no room for your secret identity. He’s thinking of the way you’ll be returning to a world with nobody awaiting you, with not a soul to look out for you, to stitch you up after a battle. Nobody but yourself, anyway.

You pull away from him, brows furrowing further, into an almost angered expression, and you don’t watch the way his hand falls away from your shoulder back to his side. He sighs when you turn away, scoffing as you make your way through the hallways of the Lobby towards where you think Miguel will be.

It’s overwhelming, all of these people. They all believe that they know you, that they know your circumstances, your story, but the truth is that they don’t. Nobody does, and that’s the way you prefer it. You don’t need a Society of Spiders surrounding you, breathing down your neck, telling you they’re sorry, or not trusting you to handle yourself in your own fights, because you can handle yourself. You’ve spent the last year of your life trying to prove that, trying to prove that you can do good things, that you’re worthy of the title Arachnid. You certainly shouldn’t need to prove that to a whole Society of people like you, most of which had been doing the job a lot longer.

You’re capable and you’re content.

You don’t need a life as your secret identity to be content, in fact, it’s better without one. You don’t have to tell so many lies, don’t have to worry about hurting the people you love, because there are none of them left. There’s nobody to hurt, and there’s nobody to lie to. Why would you want to change that?

The hallway ahead looks familiar, and you follow it until you enter a room where Miguel stands, looking at orange tinted screens on a platform halfway up the room. You enter with the absolute certainty that you want to return to your own earth, and you’re not going to let anybody stop you.

“I’m ready.” You tell him, expectantly.

He scoffs, saying nothing, still staring at the screens in front of him. For whatever reason, the reaction makes you angry — inexplicably so. You’re slinging up to the platform before you can have a second thought about it, and you’re pushing his shoulder so he’ll face you, so he’ll acknowledge you.

He stares at you, unimpressed.

“Send me back to my earth.” You press, brows furrowed beneath your mask, but you’re sure he can see the anger in the way your shoulders tense up.

“Sure,” Miguel said blankly, staring at you as if you’d suddenly change your mind or something. “But you know, there’s a lot more like her.” He added on when you said nothing, waiting for him to send you back to your world so you could give him back the stupid watch still wrapped around your wrist.

You stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. “There are no more like her.” You respond, feeling that hot press on your chest. You don’t want to talk about Gwen Stacy anymore than you’re sure he’d like to talk about whatever he had gone through in his life. Hell, you don’t even want to think about her, but you know that nobody else you would ever have to face would hurt you in the way that she did. In the way that having to see her as an enemy, rather than your friend, had hurt. So, yeah, there was nobody like her, not for you.

Miguel seems ready to let you go for a moment, but then he’s shaking his head at you. “You have a place here. You can be with people like you. You don’t have to do this alone, anymore.” He says, and you think that is ironic, because you don’t see anybody else in here. To you, it seems like he is doing exactly that; doing the job alone. You can practically see the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I prefer being alone.” You tell him, and it has to be true. It has to be.

His jaw sets, acceptance, you think, and he nods. He glances past you, to where a portal was open on the floor below. Considering that you hadn’t seen him set up the portal, you’d wager that his AI Lyla must’ve listened in and done it for him. You pull the watch off of your wrist, relishing in the way your very atoms seem to sag with the weight of being in another dimension.

“Thanks.” You say, and drop down, landing on your sore ankle but not murmuring a word about the pain. You walk back to your world with your head held high, despite your tattered suit and multitude of wounds that would take days to stop hurting.

Miguel stares after you as the portal closes, eyebrows furrowed. He barely acknowledges Jessica Drew’s arrival in the room, already having known she had been lingering in the hallway, listening in. “Well, that went well.” She comments, glancing between where the portal had been and where Miguel stands, brooding. She knows how much pressure he puts on himself, and she knows that he cares about each and every Spider-person in the multiverse. It doesn’t take a Spider-sense to see the way in which you struggle. It’s a familiar struggle, sure, but there were so many Spiders across the multiverse who had a shoulder to lean on in their hardest times. Who did you have? There was no Aunt May for Arachnid, or Gwen Stacy, or Harry Osborne, or, well, anybody.

Jessica thinks that if anybody were to know exactly how that felt, it would be Miguel.

#heartpascal writes #across the spiderverse spoilers #atsv spoilers #spiderman atsv spoilers #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x platonic reader #jessica drew x platonic reader #peter b parker x platonic reader #peter b parker x reader #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x platonic reader #spiderverse x you #spiderverse imagines #spiderverse one shot #spiderverse imagine #spiderverse angst #miguel o’hara angst #struggling idk how to tag with a new fandom shhh

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angel5ofp0rn · 6 months ago

Text

♡ part ten ♡

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

@rosiesghost we were totally on the same page with John and Nadia 🤭

“So, why did the two of you split up? John found someone younger?”

You nearly choke on your water, caught off guard by Nadia’s bluntness.

“Just teasing.” Nadia chuckles softly, taking another sip of her wine. “Younger than you? He’d ‘ave to rob a cradle.”

From the patio, the two of you watched John and the three children kick a football around in the backyard.

Your youngest struggled to keep up due to her age and size. John was quick to help by lifting her from under her armpits, helping her get a good kick in.

“Actually, it was you," you confess, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks. Nadia looks at you curiously.

"He wouldn't tell me where he was going when he would come here to visit you and Theo. I thought he was cheating."

Nadia almost frowns a bit, looking back to John and the kids. “And now that you know the truth?”

You sigh softly. “I don’t know… I still can’t move past you. I can’t stop thinking about John cheating on you, and abandoning you and Theo.”

“I told him to leave.”

“You… what?”

Nadia sets her wine glass down on the table between the two of you. “John and I… We weren’t in love, you see.” She starts carefully. “We just had a drunken one night stand, and I fell pregnant with Theo… John proposed just to do the right thing, but it wasn’t what either one of us wanted.”

You sit quietly, absorbing her words. The revelation leaves you stunned. You had no idea...

"We were unhappy for a long time," Nadia continues, her gaze distant as if reliving those moments. "We talked about seeing other people for a while, but John said he couldn't bring himself to do it. Even though there were no feelings between us, he couldn't date around while married. And then he met you."

Nadia smiles to herself as she explains the situation to you. You glance over at John, memories of your first meeting flooding back. John kept insisting that he wasn’t right for you, that you should just forget about him.

Now it makes sense.

Unaware of your eyes on him, John uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. You get a glimpse of his toned, hairy abdomen and that hint of a v-line that still lingers despite him getting softer with age.

“Can’t deny that he’s sexy, though.” Nadia murmurs, a low whistle escaping her lips.

You chuckle and nod in agreement.

The conversation lulls for a moment, both of you lost in your thoughts. The children’s laughter echoes from the yard, and you see Theo twirl your youngest around, her giggles filling the air.

"Do you ever regret it?" you ask quietly. "Leaving him, I mean."

Nadia pauses, considering your question.

"Sometimes. Not because there’s any feelings,” She explains briefly. “He was a good husband, though, and he’s a good father... But I know it was the right thing to do. We deserved to be happy, and so did Theo. And you deserve that, too."

You take a deep breath, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “You’re right.”

“I have a couple pregnancy tests under the sink in my bathroom.” Nadia mentions casually.

“I’m sorry?” You look at her incredulously.

Nadia gestures to your glass of water, with her wine glass.

•••

The drive back to the rental for your last night before heading back to the states is quiet. The soft hum of the engine and the rhythmic sound of the tires on the road are the only sounds filling the car.

The children, exhausted from their last day with their big brother, are fast asleep in the back seat. Their heads bob slightly with each turn, tiny bodies relaxed in the safety of the car.

You glance over at John, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights. He looks deep in thought, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting casually on his knee.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, you gather your courage. "Nadia told me about your marriage to her... how it really was."

John's grip on the steering wheel tightens slightly, but he keeps his gaze on the road. "Yeah? What’d she say?

“She told me about how the two of you weren’t really together… just married for Theo’s sake.”

John nods, still watching the road.

“I wish you would have just told me.” You sigh. “I wish you would have trusted me with the truth. Trusted that I wouldn’t have judged you for that.”

“It wasn’t about trust,” John explains. “I just… I wanted our relationship to be about us, our future, not my past.”

You stare at John, frustration starting to resurface. "There is no future without a past, John. You can't just compartmentalize parts of your life and expect it not to affect everything else."

John glances at you, his expression conflicted as he rubs a hand over his mouth and beard. "I know. I fucked up, alright? I was scared. Scared that you'd see me differently, that you'd think less of me."

"John, I already see you differently because of the lies," you say softly, your voice trembling.

The silence in the car is heavy, the air thick with unspoken emotions. You can feel the distance between you widening, even as you sit mere inches apart.

John finally breaks the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry. I really am. I never meant to hurt you.”

You close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. "I know you didn't. But it doesn't change the fact that you did."

John pulls into the driveway and parks the car. He turns to you, his blue eyes filled with regret. "I haven’t cheated. I haven’t abandoned my family. Yes, I hid things from you but I came clean.” John takes a deep breath. “How do we fix this?“

“I can’t talk about this right now.” You shake your head, turning to open the passenger door.

John stops you, his hand grabbing yours.

“We made a promise to each other to talk everything out, not fight.” John’s voice was stern as he locked eyes with you. “If you’re going to just walk away again… I’m going to take that as you wanting to end things for good.”

You turn to look at the children, still peacefully asleep in the back seat. The sight of them, so innocent and unaware of the turmoil around them.

"I want to fix this," you say quietly, turning back to John. “I want us to be together again, but-“

“Then we’ll be together again.” John insists.

“It’s not that simple…” You nearly whisper.

“It’s always been that simple with us.” The corners of John’s mouth twitch into a smile. “You found me at a bar and decided we’d be together. I took you on our first date and decided to make you my wife just a year later… It can be that simple. Just say the word, lovey, and I’m yours.”

You study John’s face for a moment. Everything he said is true, whether you want to believe it or not.

“I want us to be together again.” You confirm.

“You mean that?” John’s grin widens, his grip on your hand tightening slightly.

You nod, your own smile growing.

John moved to cup your face, leaning closer to plant a kiss to your lips, but you pull back.

“Wait- Before we get too far, have my own secret that I need to confess.”

John’s eyes flicker between yours, his expression shifting from elated to confused.

You reach into your bag and pull out a little blue-and-white box and hand it to him.

John studies it, then looks up to you.

“Y’r fuckin’ with me.” He mutters, eyes practically twinkling.

“You didn’t even look at it yet.” You roll your eyes playfully.

John tilts the box to the side, letting the pregnancy test slide out and fall into his hand.

It’s positive.

“When did you take this? How long have you known?”

“I’ve had a feeling for a while… I took the test at Nadia’s.” You blush.

John tosses the test to the floor of the car and cups your face again, peppering you with kiss after kiss, murmuring a few I love you’s against your lips.

Your oldest, pretending to still be asleep, opens just one of his blue eyes and peeks at his parents giggling and kissing in the front seat.

He reaches his little arm out to gently shake your youngest awake.

“Kissies.” Your oldest whispers, pointing a finger to the front seat.

Your youngest’s little hands fly to cover her mouth, muffling an excited squeal.

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batsythoughts · 6 months ago

Note

hiii, can we have a second part for the yandere! bruce with baby trapping 🥹 maybe some pregnancy kink

Of course you all can! I'm always willing to do continuations of any works I do or requests if you all ask nicely and I feel comfortable with it! And sorry this took so long to write. A lot of family stuff came up and I needed to take a step back for a while.

Part 2 of Yandere! Bruce Wayne and baby trapping!

As stated in the request, there is smut under the cut. Minors please do not interact with the post.

It had barely been a week since Bruce and you found out you were pregnant

Alfred had been discreetly informed so he could go buy your prenatal vitamins without any of the kids finding out

You all had agreed to do a reveal to them fairly quickly so they didn't find out themselves by accident

After some consideration, the both of you decided on a cake with a simple message

Bruce even got you to agree to let the message say 'It wasn't Jason'

"It's a bet the kids have on who would have a baby next. It's a family joke we have that's been going on."

You simply smiled at the explanation while saying it was okay as long as it was in a certain color

The next night a dinner, before anyone could get up from the table, Bruce said that Alfred made a special dessert for everyone

They all looked at one another in confusion as they tried to think of what the occasion was for a 'special dessert' to be made

When Alfred came in and set the cake in the center of the table, the kids stared at the written frosting with blank expressions

Jason was the first to react while throwing his hands up with a cheer

Dick started out with a huge grin before his eyes widen as he stared at Jason with disbelief all over his face

Tim and Damian shared a look for a moment before giving their congratulations

Cass smiled while looking between you and Bruce while asking multiple questions regarding the baby

Bruce smiled at the sight of all the people he loved celebrating the surprise of a new addition to the family

He gently took your hand in his while watching you happily eating the slice of cake Alfred cut for you

The first trimester was definitely interesting for the whole family with the random nausea, food cravings, and mood swings

Everyone worked together to help you deal with it as best as they were able to

Got a craving for something in the middle of the night that's not in the manor? Alfred told everyone and now Red Hood is in the store grabbing two of everything.

Your back hurting a little after getting off work? Tim has the heating pad on the couch for you as Cass gets a scented bath bomb that you might like so you can relax after dinner.

Randomly started crying? Dick and Alfred both stand nearby to hear you let out cries of whatever caused it

Damian would even offer to make you drinks that he had been taught were beneficial to both you and the fetus

Bruce was pleased that they were being so accepting of the situation instead of thinking you had been the one to cause the situation

The best thing though was a weekly ritual that only Bruce got to be apart of

An hour before he would go on patrol every Friday, you both would sit on the bed as his hands lightly caressed your stomach to carefully feel your body change over time

Even in the beginning when there wasn't anything to feel, Bruce enjoyed reliving the fact that he had gotten you pregnant successfully to keep you around

But he was still felt like you could do a bit more to be committed to the family

He wanted you to quit your job so you could be focused on him, the kids, and the baby with all your energy

Besides, he had more than enough money that you wouldn't have to worry about providing for yourself ever again

At first Bruce suggested going part time so you weren't straining your body too much while the baby was developing

You were hesitant at first, but relented and said you would ask your boss if it would be possible

It wasn't entirely what he wanted, it was just the start until you gave birth

You were beginning to tell the difference in your body after the two month mark with a slight firmness in your stomach

Bruce felt ecstatic as the days got closer to your due date

He did become concerned about the fact that you were showing a bit more than what was normal with all that he read

He even brought it up with the doctor at one of your appointments to ask if everything was alright

As they got the machine ready for the ultrasound, the doctor and nurse assured Bruce that everything should be alright with your hormone levels

The doctor began asking questions on how you were feeling and any issues you were experiencing

As they moved the wand over your stomach, the nurse stopped to look at the screen with a concerned look before her expression shifted to surprise

You became worried while asking what was wrong as the doctor focused on the screen before she got a similar look

"There's, um... there's two."

The screen was turned to face you both better as she pointed out the very close, but individual little blobs

You and Bruce stare in shock before you squeeze his hand with a soft coo

The doctor made sure to give you plenty of copies of the pictures before you left and made the next appointment

Bruce felt proud that you were giving him not one, but two children that would bind you to him for the rest of your lives

You told everyone that evening the news and they were thrilled by the prospect as well

Bruce had even signed up for a 'Baby and Me' class that meet up weekly

Of course that meant that everyone went and sat around you to retain any and all information that was being said to the class

A few of the other participants were judgemental and would whisper about how it should only be the expecting mother and father in the class

All the kids were quick to speak up and shut that down real quick with the woman who started it

"Wow Debra, that's really great advice. I'm sure your husband is proud of how outspoken you are."

"Speaking of husbands, where's your husband Debra?"

"Oh, he's working late like he always does? He must be worried about providing for you and the baby."

"I'm sure it's a very happy and loving marriage you have with him."

"But how long will it last, Debra?"

You quickly told the kids to behave while Bruce held back his smirk as the class finally began

Everyone paid attention to everything that was told, even asking questions about how to assist you through the whole process

Bruce was very proud of all his kids for being so willing to learn along with you during this stage in your life

As the weeks passed, the twins were growing healthy and making themselves known to the world

Their kicks profound enough that Bruce could sit on the other side of the couch and see the bumps they would make

He loved it most went you put headphones on your stomach while playing a small list of songs you made for the twins

"They can feel the vibrations! It is proven to be beneficial for development."

He only smiled while kissing the side of your head

Bruce had even made sure to have the baby room ready for the birth long before they were due

It did take a bit more time to keep the room neutral with the fact it was agreed to be a surprise of what you were having

But he made it work terrifically for whatever combination of twins you were carrying

With the help of Dick and Jason, of course. They refused to let Bruce try to put together the cribs and changing table that would hold their little siblings

It was always so adorable how you would go in to see the progress and coo at how everything was coming along

You of course gave an opinion on where you wanted things to go and the boys would move them without question or complaint

There was already two dressers full of baby clothes that all of them had picked out when going out shopping for any reason

Bruce adored it most that you had gotten a few maternity dresses that were elegant enough to wear to any galas he would attend

The looks that you would get from most of the people there didn't bother him

Despite the different reasons for the stares, he felt proud of the fact that everyone knew that you would always be his no matter who would try to change it

It became even better when he got a message from Alfred one day saying you had returned to the manor not long after you had went to work one day

He was worried when he finally returned that night to find you sulking in your shared room eating a bowl of fruit while wrapped in multiple blankets

Bruce hated the sight of you upset, but he hated that you seemed to be purposely hiding away the bump he was loving more every day

He sat down beside you as he waited for you to tell him what had happened at your job that morning

It took a few minutes before you finally mumbled out that you had impulsively quit your job

While he felt overjoyed, Bruce played the part of being concerned while asking what had occurred to cause it

You took another bite of your fruit while leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder

"One of the guys put his hand on the upper part of my stomach despite me telling them all not to do that. Then he asked me if... if my milk had come in."

Bruce clenched his jaw before apologizing for what happened, but gentle assured you that everything would be okay with him still providing for all of you

It took a few minutes of Bruce reassuring you that your actions were valid to preserve your self respect from the unsavory coworker you had

You gave a weak nod after a couple minutes before leaning further against for comfort

He held you to his chest while softly kissing your head and whispering affirmations to lift your spirits

That evening everyone noticed that you were feeling upset, but didn't push for an explanation so you could tell them if you felt comfortable

You gave a tired smile to the whole table while saying it was just a bad day at work and they shouldn't worry themselves

They all let you have a quiet night without arguments over anything until they went down to the cave to get ready for patrol

Bruce watched you prepare for bed with worry as you absent-mindedly went through your routine without a word

Before you could get into the bed, Bruce gently lead you over to the full length mirror he got for you that stood in one corner

He stood behind you as he rested his hands at the swell of your stomach while swaying back and forth

He placed kisses along your neck as his fingers danced over the bump while whispering against your skin

"You're such a good momma." "Doing your best for them already." "Providing me with the greatest gift."

Bruce continued with his praise as he watched the reflection until you finally cracked a smile

He carefully turned you around before connecting his lips to yours before guiding you over to the bed

He made sure you were completely settled in for the night before giving you a kiss and promising to return safely

The night had went by with only a few attempted muggings and a failed robbery of a gas station before the whole family returned

Bruce took a shower in the locker room and changed like every night so you wouldn't wake up from the noise

Bruce had tried to remain as quiet to not disturb you as he entered the room, but he saw that you were turning around under the comforter with soft whines

He thought you were just having a weird dream until you pushed up from the bed with a groan before meeting his gaze

He almost asked what was wrong as he walked towards the bed, but the words didn't need to be said with the way you bite your lip to keep back a pout

Now, you and Bruce had sex a few times since the pregnancy had started, but after you began showing he didn't want to potentially cause you any discomfort

He wouldn't deny the fact that he thought you were beautiful during the day doing any little thing

However, staring at you in the his bed with the light of the moon streaming in through the window and accentuating your features while one of the straps of your nightgown sliding of as you give him that pleading look

Bruce couldn't get in the bed quick enough after taking a moment to admire how breathtaking you were in that moment

He gently pushed you back to lay down on the mattress before lifting up the lower part of your sleepwear

He couldn't bother to remove your underwear as he pulled it to the side and immediately latched onto your clit

The startled moan you let out was a melody Bruce never wanted to forget as he passionately worked his tongue over the small nub

Wasting no time, he moved one hand to rest on your hip while the other went to prepare you

You laced your fingers in his hair the moment he pushed a finger into you for the first time in months

He slowly moved his hand as he listened to the way your breath hitched with each whine you gave before pushing a second finger in

He had only been at it for a minute before you gave a small cry and came undone by his fingers and tongue

Bruce smiled to himself as he worked you through the spasms before trailing kisses up your stomach, leaving a few attentive one underneath your breasts, until finally reaching your mouth

He didn't even give you time to protest the kiss as his abdomen pressed against you while lining up at your entrance

He made sure to go slow as he felt you shake slightly under him with your nails softly digging into his back

He kept his thrusts shallow as he pulled away to watched your expression as you let out small whines of pleasure

He moved one hand to rest on the side of your stomach as the other held your chin to keep you looking at him

He groaned at the way you tightened around him as he felt a small kick come from your lower stomach

He sweetly kissed you again before pulling away enough to speak with a smirk spread across his face

"Oh, aren't you just a beautiful momma?" "Still able to take me so well after so long." "I should just keep you like this for the rest of our lives."

Bruce gave a small laugh at the last thought as he gave one final thrust before you tightened around his cock

He almost let a small taunt out about you enjoying the idea of him already keeping you there, but just smiled as he trailed a finger over your cheek

It didn't take much longer for Bruce to find his own release with a deep groan

He waited a moment before pulling out and going to the bathroom to get a warm washcloth

He affectionately shook his head when he saw you had already fallen back to sleep with a calm grin on your face

He gently wiped the mess between you thighs away before tracing his fingers over you stomach for a a few moments

He quickly got rid of the cloth before putting on a fresh pair of boxers and slipping under the covers

Bruce moved his arms around you while laying down to get a few hours sleep himself

The next couple weeks, Bruce made sure to shower you with as much affection as he thought you deserved

You and the others simply assumed it was because you were steadily getting closer to your due date

But he did it to help build the emotional vulnerability you would ultimately go through after giving birth

He knew you would go through a strong surge of hormones that would cause you to rely on him even more

It all going to be for the best in the end because Bruce just needs you to realize how much he truly loves you and will always be there for you

What better way is there to convince someone to agree to marry you?

Bruce already had a ring picked out and the speech he would give on what each of the kids would do to be included in the wedding

He would still have you pick out all the important things that you wanted like the flowers, dress, location and every other aspect you wanted

But he had to be patient until after the twins had been born for at least a few months before asking you

But to get you to be apart of the family more than you already were? Oh, Bruce was nothing but determined.

#batman #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #yandere bruce wayne #yandere bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you

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everythingacotarbxm1012 · 7 months ago

Text

They're Mates - with Y/N Pt 3

Summary - Y/N decides she wants to learn to fly again.

Warnings/Other Notes - This one is in 2nd person pov because the first two chapters were looking at Y/N and Az’s relationship from a source not within their relationship. 2k word chapter- Again, some of these lines/plot points are inspired by, or directly quoted from, ACOMAF. This chapter takes place prior to the first two chapters.

Injury mentioned, though not super graphically. Reader relives/remembers having her wings cut.

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Masterlist

✨💫

You could feel the blade cutting into your wings. Tears spilled down your face as you screamed in pain, begging the Mother to make it stop. You were never going to fly again. The one thing that brought you unending joy, your only source of freedom, was being taken away.

“Y/N?”

The edges of your memories blurred. That voice, you recognized that voice.

“Y/N?!”

That sweet, honey-like voice called you. Something in you warmed and the pain lessened. Like you were basking in the sun.

“Y/N!”

You shot up in bed, your legs tangled in the sheets. A cold sweat dripped down your face and that same smooth voice kept saying something, but your mind was still catching up and couldn’t process them, not right now. Your chest rose and fell rapidly and then there were hands cupping your face. Not those smooth hands in the romance novels, but hands with bravery and adventure etched into them. Hands that felt like home. Your eyes shot up to meet a pair of hazel ones. Azriel.

“You’re safe. I’m here, your safe. Your father can’t touch you anymore,” the shadowsinger whispered to you.

You nodded and leaned forward to wrap your arms around him. He reciprocated. You chased away the nightmare, remembering where you were. I’m here with Azriel. With Cassian, and Rhysand. With Rhys’s mother. Az saved you. Your arms tightened slightly around the shadowsinger, burrying your face into his muscular shoulder. His shadows curled around the both of you. His scent felt like home. The same scent that you had become familiar with every time you fell asleep, the one still lingering in the bedding when you woke up and he was gone off to train, with a promise to come back in time for dinner.

Sharing a bed with the Illyrian didn’t start right away, not on purpose. It just happened one night. Azriel never made it back to his own bed, instead he fell asleep comforting you from the same nightmare. Then it became purposeful, falling asleep and not returning to his own chambers. And one night the shadowsinger didn’t even bother finding his way into his own bed, Az just went straight to yours. You certainly didn’t mind and Rhys’s mother never said anything.

“Azriel?” You asked against his shoulder.

He placed the gentlest kiss to your temple. One that reminded you of a waltz you heard one day in Velaris. “Yes?”

You lifted your eyes to look at Az’s face. “What if I never fly again?” Your chest started heaving again. You broke away from the shadowsinger and looked away. It felt like someone had lit a fire inside you. Not one that someone makes to keep you warm on an incredibly chilly night, but a fire started out of malice, one to kill and destroy.

Azriel’s features became softer, contemplative if that was at all possible. “Impossible…because I’ll teach you.”

Your eyes shot up to his face. “Are you…certain? Do you not need to train? I don’t—”

“I would spend the rest of my life in that damned cell for you again, Y/N.” He paused. “Don’t think I wouldn’t teach you to fly. Unlike Cass and Rhys I remember learning. Both of them would tell you to just flap your wings. I understand the fears and mental blocks of being older.”

You let out the softest laugh, wiping a drop of sweat from your forehead. “Thank you, Azriel.”

He nodded in his silence, considering something a moment. Az stood from the bed, his pants sitting low on his hips as he disappeared into the washroom and reappeared a few moments later with a damp cloth. “May I?”

You nodded and he gently pressed the cool cloth to your forehead, making the sweat disappear as if it had never happened. His shadows flitted through your hair. Whispering to you. Care. Care. Care.

The shadowsinger tried to call them back, but they had a mind of their own, especially around you. You chuckled lightly. Silly little guys, acting like a bunch of toddlers. When Az decided he had done a sufficient job of wiping your face he pressed another kiss to your forehead before hanging the cloth to dry and returned.

You were lying down in the bed when he returned. He climbed in next to you before pulling you against him. You both fell asleep and slept soundly for the rest of the night.

The following day you went into Velaris with Rhysand’s mother to run a few errands. Her skills as a seamstress were impressive and she used it as an opportunity to occupy a portion of her time. You stopped at your favorite bakery to pick up a few things for dinner that evening. You also found a used book on diplomacy that was on sale. Rhys’s mother kindly bought it for you; well maybe more for Azriel’s shadow who seemed desperately intrigued with it. When you returned home, to your surprise, Trouble, More Trouble, and Too Much Trouble, were already there. (Nicknames you had aptly given to Azriel, Rhysand, and Cassian.)

Too Much Trouble grinned when he saw you and clapped his brother on the back. “This one here got us kicked out early today for starting not one, not two, but three fights. I mean he looked like death coming to collect souls for the next life. Don’t insult, Y/N!!”

“Shut up, Cassian,” Rhys said, giving a pointed look.

“You weren’t any use, Cassian,” Azriel growled back while shoving his brother’s hand away from his shoulder. Az had a black eye and dried blood along his cheek bone. He didn’t meet your gaze but his shadows happily slithered over to you. Protect, Protect, Protect, they whispered to you. Then you understood the shadows’ need to be near you, hovering. The reason why you had a shadow over your shoulder since Az saved you from your father. A form of protection, something to keep you safe, something to report back to the shadowsinger if you were in danger.

And that’s exactly what Azriel had done earlier that day. Defended you without remorse.

You glanced at Cassian who had a bruise on his jaw and then to Rhys who also had a black eye. Rhys’s mother looked far from pleased. “Cassian. Rhysand. Upstairs! Clean yourselves up.” Her gaze turned to the shadowsinger. “Azriel. Sit .” She announced as she put the bags down from your earlier trip to Velaris.

For all her softness, Rhys’s mother certainly had a sharpness to her not often seen. Rhys and Cass’s wings hung ever so slightly and only for a moment before they shifted again and they disappeared up the stairs. You followed them.

When you got to your room, you opened the book bought earlier that day and began reading on the bed. The sheets still smelled of him, of both of you. The shadow rested on your shoulder, appearing deeply engrossed in the words too. About fifteen minutes later you could hear the shadowsinger coming up the stairs. You knew it was him for the sole reason of his footsteps. You had learned how Azriel, Rhysand, and Cassian walked. The heaviness of their feet, the pace.

You could hear Az and Rhys out in the hall. “Your mom wants you,” is all you heard before Rhys is walking downstairs and the shadowsinger is walking into your room. You closed your book to look up at him.

“C’mon.” The shadowsinger stepped towards the small balcony and opened the doors. “You can’t learn to fly in here.”

“What,” you asked him, confused.

“You think I started the third fight for the fun of it?” Azriel asked, offering his hand out to you.

You only gave him a confused look, remaining on the bed.

He walked back towards the bed where you sat reaching for your boots. He knelt down on his knees. “Sure, the moron had it coming. That doesn’t change the fact that fighting with him for a third time got me the afternoon off to teach someone how to fly.”

Your mouth fell agape. “Azriel,” you admonished and a smile came over the shadowsinger’s lips before pulling on your boots. “I am perfectly capable of putting on my shoes, Az.”

He only offered you a hand after he tied them up. You took it before he swept you into his arms. You craved his embrace, more than so many other things. Azriel walked back towards the balcony and shot into the sky.

You never imagined how some people hate this, because Gods this felt good, felt like freedom. It reminded you of your childhood when you flew whenever you could, as if flying up into the sky might take you away from all of your problems. You just hoped the next time you flew it would be on your own wings.

Azriel landed in a clearing, gently placing you down on the ground carefully, to make sure you didn’t fall. “I want you to be careful. If anything hurts too—”

“I promise I’ll tell you,” you said to him with a nod.

“Is it…is it okay…okay if I touch your wings? For correction I mean? Should it be… necessary?” The shadowsinger asked from behind you, almost nervously. For good reason. The concept of touching someone’s wings without permission, in particular females, was beyond inappropriate.

You nodded, you could sense the shadowsinger behind you, observing your wings carefully. You could feel his eyes scanning up and down. “Azriel?” You asked quietly.

“I can’t say I am a healer and know the anatomy well, but perhaps we start at the beginning. Test the muscles, the ligaments.”

You nod, something feeling oddly intimate about the moment. You turn to face the shadowsinger whose face had contemplating written all over it.

“Try spreading them and tucking them in,” he said as you faced each other.

You nodded, spreading your wings as best you could. Mother above you hadn’t actually tried to do this in a while. You grimaced but managed to spread them, pushing them to your full extent, spreading your feet to offer you more balance.

A small smile of pride was clear on Azriel’s face. “Now fold inward.”

You did, slowly, afraid to tear or rip something in your wings. You couldn’t stop the smile when you folded inward with success.

“Good,” he said with a mild amusement in his eyes. “Try again.”

You spread your wings again, your muscles ached, but that was good. That meant they were there, that meant you had a chance.

Azriel’s eyes followed the movements, and cauldron boil him if your form wasn’t the most stunning thing he had ever seen. The shadowsinger had to put more concentration into not letting his knees buckle under him than he would like to admit. Beautiful. Stunning. Lovely. Beautiful, stunning. Lovely, his shadows whispered in his ear.

You pulled your wings shut rather than slowly closing them which caused you to lose your balance slightly, falling forward. Azriel reached out to catch you before you could land on the ground with a light amusement in his eyes before he suddenly realized how close in proximity you were to him.

You’d been this close before. By the Gods, you shared a bed every night, but something felt different. You gently rest your hands against the shadowsinger’s chest in silence.

“Y/N?” He asked quietly, hands shifting to cup either side of your face.

You looked up to see his face leaning down slightly. “Azriel.”

You don’t know who leaned in first, maybe Azriel, maybe you. It didn’t matter, because moments later the shadowsinger’s lips were on yours. They were sweet, and salty, and soft and warm. Like a warm biscuit on a cold night. Your fingers wound up in his hair before he pulled away. “Was that okay?”

His response was pulling your lips to his again, harder, more desperately like he had lived in a dry desert for centuries and you were a tiny pool of water in the middle of it all.

You returned to opening and closing your wings, building the muscle until it was as easy as walking, though it certainly felt like the cauldron was burning you alive when you woke up the following morning. But you couldn’t be bothered, you were going to fly again.

Taglist: @5onedirection5

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #2nd person pov #azriel x female!reader #azriel fluff #angst #rhysand acotar #cassian acotar #rhysand’s mother acotar #rhysand #cassian #rhysand’s mother #flashback

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dilemmaontwolegs · 7 months ago

Text

The Perfect Life || CL16 {7}

Summary: The first night at Charles’ house is almost ruined before it can even begin. Warnings: angst, light smut WC: 3.2k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight Taglist: RETIRED Head over to my dedicated library blog @dilemmaslibrary and opt to get notifications from there.

The paper bag in your hands crinkled as you opened it to see what Charles had asked you to carry. “What is this?”

“Dinner.��

You raised a brow and closed it back up. “Those are ingredients,” you corrected, placing it on the kitchen bench in his apartment. “I hope you aren’t expecting me to cook because you will be bitterly disappointed.”

He laughed as he closed the front door and kicked his shoes off. “It’s all prepared, the pasta just needs boiling but I can do that. Why don’t you take a look around?”

You already planned on being nosey when he wasn’t looking but now you could openly snoop and happily left him to his own devices. Like most apartments in Monaco, it was smaller than you were used to but it was more than enough for a man living on his own.

You circled the living room and tried not to be envious of all the photos he had hung in frames around the room. Faces you recognised held carefree smiles that they never had in your presence and Charles was no exception. You thought you had seen his real smile but even that was strained compared to what was captured when he was with his friends and family.

“I’m starting to think that frown is just your resting face,” Charles commented as he stepped out of the galley kitchen to see your progress.

You schooled your face until the lines evened out and a mild look of boredom hid your thoughts as you turned away from the photos and found something that made your heart nearly stop. The manuscript was plain and unassuming on the shelf, the title print small and barely legible on the bare sewn spine, but you knew that book.

“You stole it.”

Charles’ confused gaze followed you to the bookshelf. “What?”

“It wasn’t enough to take him from me but you took our book too,” you muttered as you tugged it from the shelf and ran your fingers across the faded purple inscription in the corner: For Jules. A hint of the berry scented ink still clung to the page and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you opened it to the dog eared page you left behind.

“This was a mistake,” you said as you closed the book and shoved it back on the shelf. If it wasn’t this, it would just be something else- there was too much history to think this could ever work. “I can’t do this, Charles.”

He intercepted your exit, blocking the door with pleading eyes. “Wait, please. I didn’t know it was yours. You can have it back.”

“I don’t want it back! I want to finish reading it to him but I’ll never get that chance because of you.” You took a step closer, ready to go through him to get out the door but he surprised you by sliding down the white panel until his ass planted on the floor. Charles pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them as he looked down to hide in shame.

The moment of silence dragged on as his breath grew as ragged as yours and you both relived that day in the hospital.

“I’m sorry,” he stressed as he threw his head back, the thud heavy against the wood. “I’m fucking sorry! For all of it. I didn’t deserve the time I got with him, I don’t deserve this career - it should have been his, like you. I definitely don’t deserve you.”

You slumped to the floor too with your back to the kitchen cabinets. This was not how you imagined your evening going. The plan had been simple; stay the night with Charles and arrive at the paddock for his first practice together - hard launching the relationship and confirming all the rumours that you had both started.

“When did this become your pity party?” you asked as you studied the herringbone tile floor instead of the enigma sitting opposite you.

Charles’ jaw dropped and he shook his head as he stammered over his words. “It’s not…I’m not…that’s not what…”

“How do you make it through interviews? One question and you’re a blithering mess.” You rolled your eyes and stretched your leg out to nudge his foot. “You are wrong by the way. I wasn’t meant to be Jules’ either.”

“I know.” He nodded and sighed, wiping his nose that had turned pink. “It probably doesn’t change anything but I finished it. I read him that book before he…before he died.”

You pushed yourself up to your feet and offered him your hand. His palm was clammy against your skin and you barely made any effort to pull him up as he did the work himself, rising to his full height in front of you. “You’re right, it doesn’t change anything,” you admitted, watching his shoulders deflate.

“Figured as much.”

“But,” you said as you held a finger up when he went to move away and he froze, “that was a proper apology that actually felt real.”

“So you forgive me?”

“No, I don’t even know how to do that, but I’m not going to leave.”

He smiled like it was a small victory and enveloped you in one of his spontaneous hugs that you were slowly growing used to. “I don’t know how, but I am going to make it up to you one day. I promise.”

“How about you start with just making dinner?” You stepped out of his embrace and looked around the room with weary eyes. “I’m not going to find any more surprises, am I?”

He chewed his lip as he thought for a moment. “I have his helmet in my office but the door is closed.”

You swallowed deeply and nodded. You were going to avoid that room at all costs. “Keep it that way.”

Panic gripped you as the bike started to wobble. Your feet tangled in the pedals and your fingers slipped from the brakes before the gravel driveway rapidly came up to meet you. The skin on your knees stung with the dozens of little stones that grazed them and your elbows were in a similar state as you lay sprawled beneath the summer sun.

“Up you get,” Jules said as he dusted the stones off and picked you up.

Your bottom lip began to tremble and he shook his head. “There’s no use crying, lapinette, might as well laugh and learn.”

“I don’t want to laugh,” you grumbled, kicking the bike to emphasise your displeasure.

Jules shrugged and picked the bike up, holding it out for you to try once more. “Well, that’s usually when you need to the most.”

You accepted the bike and looked longingly at the trainer wheels he had taken off. The plastic wheels were beside his kart that was propped up on a stand, some of the parts in pieces for him to finish cleaning before he rebuilt it for the race. “Do you think you can win?”

“Absolutely, just like I know you can ride that bike.”

“I fell off.”

He laughed at your attitude and knew you would be a handful when you grew up. Pointing to the driveway he said, “Then you better try again, no? Because if you don’t ride it then I can’t win!”

You laughed at the stupidity of the statement but rose to the challenge, throwing a leg over the pastel pink bike and ringing the little bell on the handle for good luck. “You better win, Jules.”

You took a deep breath and pushed the pedal down, slowly building momentum. The wind blew your hair back and you laughed as you realised you were doing it. You were biking…straight towards the wrought iron gates.

You jolted awake in the unfamiliar bedroom and found Charles sleeping soundly. Though you had woken before the impact came you knew Jules had saved you. The lanky teen had sprinted after the bike and grabbed you from the seat before it careened into the metal, buckling the front wheel. You hadn’t quite mastered bike riding that week but Jules still won his karting race.

Sleep was as distant as the memory that had resurfaced so you quietly slipped from the room and found yourself at the bookshelf. Sometimes you wished you had no memory, then you couldn’t be reminded of how happy you had been. But, on the flipside, if you didn’t have the memory you feared you would never know what happiness was at all.

When Charles woke to an empty bed he wondered if you had left after all despite watching you fall asleep beside him. It was only the sound of the balcony door sliding open that let him breathe a sigh of relief and he climbed out of the bed to check on you. A cool breeze left a chill in the air of the living room and Charles grabbed the blanket that hung from the back of the sofa before he stepped outside.

“You’ll catch a cold like that,” he whispered to the night. The Ferrari shirt you wore fell halfway down your thighs but curled up on the outdoor settee had the red material barely covering your underwear and Charles covered the bare skin with the blanket.

“Bad dream?” he asked as he took a seat beside you and noticed the book in your hands.

“Worse,” you replied. “A good memory.”

Charles draped his arm over the back of your seat, his fingers softly touching your shoulder, and he tucked his legs under the blanket too. “Want to talk about it?”

You gave him a look that made him chuckle before turning your attention back to the page. You were halfway through the story and you could finally appreciate the action thriller now that you understood the vengeance Jack Reacher felt and the way he fought but even that wasn’t enough to distract you from the dream. With an irritated sign, you closed the book and took to searching the stars instead.

“Charles?” He hummed quietly and you looked across to see his relaxed state watching the dark sky too. “If I ask you something, can you just do it without reading too much into it?”

He tore his eyes away from the brightest star in the sky and frowned. “Uh, I guess it depends on what you ask me.”

“I want you to kiss me.”

His lips curled up in a slow smile and his fingers danced across your collar to the base of your throat as he leaned in. “You don’t have to ask me.”

“It’s not because I like you, I just need something to stop me thinking,” you clarified.

“Again, you don’t have to ask me.” His lips brushed against yours before they teased your jawline and his breath warmed your ear. “You can use me however you want.”

It was already a messy situation and adding sex to the mix was only going to end badly but you needed it. You needed to forget the thoughts racing through your head and you needed the high of an orgasm. Charles was more than willing to give you both when he carried you back to his bed.

The next time you woke you were in a far better headspace.

You felt the ghost of a kiss on your cheek before Charles left to get ready for the day but you buried your head deeper in the pillow and tried to ignore the sweet ache in your body. It was impossible. Your core throbbed with the memory of how he had filled it and your thighs pressed together in search of friction only to feel the beard burn he had left between them.

“Fuck,” you groaned as you realised you would not be getting back to sleep.

“Regretting your life choices?” Charles asked from the doorway, two mugs of coffee in his hands and not a lick of clothing to be seen.

“On the list of my regrets, this doesn’t even register,” you said as you sat up and accepted the hot cup, your state of undress not much better. “But it would have been easier if you sucked in bed.”

“How’s that?” He lifted his pillow up against the headboard and took a seat with an amused grin at the compliment.

“For starters, I wouldn’t want to do it again. Things are already complicated enough and now I have technically been fucked by my boss.”

“If you want to get technical, you fucked me,” he pointed out with a smirk. “You were in control, babe.”

You took a deep breath and told yourself it was too early for violence, even if he was right. Charles had been quite clear on the fact you were in control, especially when he sat in much the same position against the headboard and let you ride him into oblivion. “Maybe it will make it on my list of regrets after all.”

“You can worry about them later,” he said after a few mouthfuls of his coffee. “We should start getting ready to head to the track and your hair screams ‘sex’. Bathroom is across the hall, there’s a new toothbrush in the top drawer if you need.”

“Wow, a spare toothbrush? That screams manwhore.”

“I’m just being a gentleman, you’re the one that swallowed.”

You nearly spilled the coffee with the laugh that bubbled out of your mouth unexpectedly. “Ah, there’s the regret. I knew I should have snowballed you.”

His nose wrinkled with the idea and you laughed darkly. Next time he would probably hesitate and remember this conversation. You froze. You were already thinking about the next time you would fuck and that was enough to stun you silent so you busied your mouth finishing the drink.

It was hard not to fall in love with the atmosphere of race week in Monaco. Arriving hand in hand with Charles had the desired effect and you were still feeling the ripples of it as the day ended.

“I’m exhausted and I didn’t even do anything,” you admitted through the headset as the private helicopter whisked you back to Nice.

Charles flexed his hand that had furiously signed autographs right up until the moment he stepped inside the helicopter. “It gets like that sometimes but I only feel it after everything goes quiet.”

“Are you sure you want to come to this dinner? You can go home and rest. Jacques can fly you back.”

Charles reached across the seat and took your hand even though there was no audience to witness the touch. “And leave you alone with your parents?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s not going to happen.”

“I have managed to survive 25 years on my own.”

“That’s a miracle in itself. I probably wouldn’t be trusted with the steak knife if that was me.”

You grinned at the joke and rested your head on his shoulder. “I like this dark side of you.”

“I suppose that’s a start.”

Your good mood was brought down the moment you spotted the mansion before landing. Too many cars lined the driveway for the simple family dinner your mother planned and you fell quiet as the helicopter touched down in the backyard.

“What is this?” Charles asked, looking down at his casual jeans and sweatshirt.

“The tenth circle of hell,” you muttered.

Veronica was practically vibrating with excitement when you arrived at the patio door and she held out two tickets for the opera tomorrow night, as requested. “Silly girl. You have dinner with Prince Albert, you can’t even go.”

Charles knew better after seeing the many masks you had adorned to hide your thoughts but it still amazed him how quickly you could become a woman he didn’t recognise. A sneer grew, twisting your smile into a cruel mockery of the one he knew and your eyes narrowed as you swiped the tickets from her hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“I tried, but that’s what you get for being a spoiled little brat.”

“Alicia! My room, now!” Your voice carried through the mansion and you stormed up the stairs with Charles following behind, his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. The maid was already waiting outside your bedroom door when you arrived and you barrelled inside, slamming the door shut in Veronica’s smirking face.

The dress hanging in the closet was still wrapped in the garment bag and you took it off the hanger, holding it out to Alicia. “Get this dress out of my sight! I never want to see it again.”

Alicia looked a little shocked at the outburst you needed to be heard through the door. “But it is McQueen.”

“I don’t care!” You lowered your voice to a whisper and reached into your pocket. “Here’s two tickets to La Bohème, take the dress and go with Javier. You didn’t think I forgot your anniversary, did you? Go.”

Tears filled Alicia’s eyes and she threw her arms around you. “Thank you.”

You shook your head and sincerely said, “You deserve more than this.”

Alicia dipped at the waist and delicately hung the dress over her arm as she walked to the door. Veronica saw the tears in Alicia’s eyes and shook her head as the quiet maid rushed down the stairwell.

“Your father will hear about this tantrum.”

You tipped your nose up and crossed your arms smugly. “I’m his only child, that makes me his favourite by default. Now run along and tell him.”

Veronica turned on her heel with a scoff and you closed the door before sighing heavily. You would probably pay for the insolence in one way or another but it was worth it.

“Why did you do that?” Charles asked as he reached past your hip and locked the door.

“I couldn’t pay for the tickets myself and they already think the worst of me, might as well play the fool for a good cause.”

Charles opened his arms and you stepped into the embrace. He could see how draining the act was and couldn’t wait until the day you left Nice. “You’re a good person,” he said quietly before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I don’t think the guests downstairs would agree with you. I don’t even know why they are here.”

You found out soon enough when you emerged from your room dressed in more appropriate attire. Just as you suspected, it was punishment and you would play the fool once again for your mother’s entertainment. You felt sick seeing the grand piano in the dining hall and your fingers stiffened at the thought of sitting in front of the guests to play at her whim.

“Are you okay?” Charles asked as he saw your pallor fade.

Forcing the discontent away, you smiled in time for the first guest to spot your entrance into the room. “Just peachy, Charles. Ready to act lovesick?”

He didn’t need to act, and you found it all too easy that maybe it wasn’t acting either. Your body fit perfectly into the curve of his arm and you moved together through the room making introductions. But all too soon your mother dragged you away and snapped her finger at the piano.

“The Economy Minister favours Beethoven,” she whispered with a look to the man your father was for lack of a better word, schmoozing. “Don’t fuck this up.”

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