#know your escape routes . . . [ REPLIES ]*

[biteofwinter]

alice watched her wander around the party. alice had always been a loiterer. she hung around parties, watching people, but allie didn't. allie seemed to make sense at these things. she was usually full of life and joy. she seemed to have gotten a little lost in it all though. alice could understand that. that was why she called her to her. she could use the company right now, they both could. she reached up with one hand and brushed through allie's hair as she found her place in her lap.

allie's fingers darted around her face, and alice leaned into it. her touch was always so delicate and she loved it. she listened to her, all her attention on the fairy on top of her. when she was looking up at her it was like the whole world around her dulled besides allie. "i love any and all flowers you get me, baby," alice smiled up at her. "you look like an angel up there. you've got a light right behind your head that makes you look so perfect."

REPLY to @enchaentd / allie fleur *

[mythvoiced]

@jeoseungsaja | the GBEP

---

Among the many animals to hop and hunt and run about forest floors, foxes aren't exactly the strongest on the list. Take a red fox, it usually shares its habitat with bears and wolves, or even elks and deer not small enough to be prey, large enough to not be competition but certainly threat.

That's perhaps where the legend of the 'cunning fox' had come from, who knows. A small predator who knows its way around quick, small feet, who slinks and rests its chances of survival on agility, and on needing less to survive than other predators in its area much better at killing, much better at eating.

But, being so small, being so nimble, being up against competitors with larger jaws, larger paws... foxes are easily frightened, too.

At least in Yuri's case.

At least in Rang's case.

A fox' cry has been compared to the pained, terrified screeching of a female voice for good reason.

Yuri is looking at Yeo with the large eyes of a cornered animal, not of a predator who thinks itself at an advantage in a fight. Yuri doesn't believe in her prowess to fight against Yeo because she's arrogant, misguided, but because she needs to win against the bigger threat, because her survival depends on it.

Yuri doesn't stare Yeo down because she wants to take him down but because she has to get him to understand, as subconscious as the urge may be, that she will die in an attempt to remove him, if he threatens what little she has:

Rang.

Rang and her, two foxes, sœur et frère, bones exposed, hinds lame, in the woods somewhere.

She doesn't like his attitude at all. He stinks. Stinks of inhuman blood, of healing wounds, of age and expertise, he looks arrogant in her eyes, threatening for the position in Rang's life he occupies, the spot she doesn't understand. Why care about him at all? He looks like he's just waiting for the right opportunity to die.

Good.

Die.

One less thing to worry about, she thinks, with all the malice of a child who doesn't understand what death is.

I hope you die, the child says, thinking death means nothing at all, only understanding 'oh, how quickly adults pale at the word'.

Her gaze flickers between the door and him repeatedly, chewing his words over. She's not particularly witty, words mean little when she has claws and teeth, she's never used them to fight. She doesn't have a good retort, even if her eyes narrow in understanding that she's being target of mockery.

All the more reason to shoulder past him into his den.

She explores his place with her nose first, two steps in - flowery - before turning to stare at him again.

"I'm not scared. Or concerned. I'm bothered. By you. You sound like far more trouble than you're worth."

[natsaffection]

Request if ur taking them: hella smutty enemies to lovers w nat and female reader… like dom nat is interrogating/torturing r w sex like not letting us come etc unless we give over the information

Interrogation. | N.R

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Sex Machine, Sex as „Torture“, begging, restraints, edging, Clit play, multiple orgasm, overstimulation

Word Count: 2,7k

A/N: Uhm..MAYBE I got carried away..

The battle had been fierce, and the aftermath was a testament to the clash between the Avengers and you. Debris and rubble covered the once pristine SHIELD facility. The air was thick with dust and the smell of burnt metal. Amidst the chaos, you lay on the ground, breathing heavily, your eyes full of defiance and a hint of amusement.

Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, stood over you, her face a mask of determination. She knelt down and pinned your arms behind your back with practiced ease. You struggled, but Natasha’s grip was ironclad.

“It’s over.” Natasha said, her voice deep and firm. You smirked mockingly, your eyes meeting Natasha’s. “You seem pretty confident, Agent Romanoff.”

Natasha ignored the provocation and reached for the handcuffs on her belt. “I’ve had enough of your games. It’s time to put an end to this.”

As Natasha secured a cuff around your wrist, you laughed breathlessly. “Oh, careful, these are kind of my thing,” you said with a mischievous grin. Without hesitation, Natasha tightened her grip, “Come on! You don’t have to be so rough. We could have some fun instead.”

But she pressed your check into the dirt, her knee firmly in your back to prevent any movement. “Keep talking, and you’ll find out how rough I can be.“ Natasha hissed, her tone dripping with menace. “The fun is over. You’ve been causing trouble for too long.”

You writhed and twisted, trying to break free, but Natasha’s hold was unyielding. “You’re no fun..” you muttered, your voice muffled by the ground.

Natasha tightened the cuffs on your wrists. “And if you weren’t so insistent on being a villain, you might actually be worth my time.”

You tried to sit up, looking around as if searching for an escape route or an opportunity. “Don’t even think about it,” Natasha warned, increasing the pressure with her knee. You groaned but stopped struggling, though your eyes still roamed.

SHIELD agents were still securing the area, their movements quick and efficient. Natasha had to wait for the all-clear signal before she could take you to the waiting vehicle. The minutes dragged on, filled with the distant sounds of agents clearing debris and securing the area.

“You really won’t let up, will you?” you said, your tone a mix of frustration and reluctant admiration. “No.” Natasha replied curtly. You sighed dramatically but didn’t resist further. “You know, I was serious about the restraints.. Maybe one day you’ll take me up on that offer.”

Natasha didn’t respond, her eyes scanning the surroundings until she received a nod from a nearby agent. She finally relaxed, pulling you to your feet with a swift motion. Her grip remained firm as she led you to the waiting vehicle.

“Let’s go,” Natasha ordered, pushing you forward. You stumbled slightly but caught yourself, your defiant gaze never wavering.

As you reached the vehicle, Natasha secured you inside before taking a seat herself. The doors closed with a heavy thud, sealing your fate. As the vehicle drove away, you couldn’t help but admire the vie, not of the receding landscape, but of the relentless agent who had finally captured you.

The ride in the vehicle was silent, your attempts at conversation met only with Natasha’s stony silence. Upon arrival at the SHIELD headquarters, you were escorted through a series of sterile corridors, your wrists still firmly bound. Eventually, you were deposited in an interrogation room, the door closing with a resounding click behind you.

Natasha stood outside the room, watching you through the one-way window. Director Fury approached, his expression as inscrutable as ever.

“Anyone getting her to talk?” Fury asked. Natasha shook her head. “Not yet. But I have an idea.” Fury raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“I want to try a different approach,” Natasha said, her eyes never leaving you. “Something that requires a bit more… hands-on work.”

Fury’s gaze followed hers, a knowing look crossing his face. “You think you can break her?” Natasha’s lips curled into a slight smile. “I know I can.”

Fury considered for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. Do what you have to. Just make sure we get the information we need.”

Natasha gave a curt nod and turned to a couple of nearby agents. “Bring her to Room B.”

The agents obeyed, entering the room to escort you to the new location. You, always quick to notice a change, looked curiously between the agents and Natasha. “Tired of the room already?”

Natasha didn’t respond, her expression remaining impassive as she followed the agents and you down another corridor. They stopped before a reinforced door, which opened to reveal a stark, dimly lit room. In the center of the room, chains hung from the ceiling.

Your eyes widened slightly as you saw the setup, a slow grin spreading across your face. “Oh, Natasha, you really know how to treat a girl.”

Natasha stepped forward, her gaze steady. “Keep talking and you will see where it takes you.“ You laughed, the sound echoing off the bare walls. “You almost had me fooled. I mean, you’ve got chains hanging from the ceiling. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to spoil me.”

The agents finished their task and stepped back. Now you hung from your wrists, your feet barely touching the ground. Natasha approached you, her expression cold and calculating.

“You like to talk,” Natasha said, her voice low and menacing. “But now you’re going to listen.” Your smile faded slightly as you saw the determination in Natasha’s eyes. “Are you going to torture me for information?”

Natasha leaned close to your ear, her breath warm against your skin. “Kind of.”

Natasha knew exactly how to handle this situation. She had done her homework and knew your psychological profile. Natasha’s plan was unorthodox, but she knew it would be effective.

With a swift motion, Natasha signaled to a control panel on the wall. A mechanical hum filled the room as a device descended from the ceiling, its purpose unmistakable. Your eyes widened in surprise and something else..anticipation.

“You know, if you didn’t insist on being a villain, you might actually enjoy this,” Natasha said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Your defiance wavered, replaced by a mix of excitement and apprehension. “You wouldn’t…”

Natasha’s grin returned. “Oh, but I would. You see, Y/n, everyone has a breaking point. And I’m going to find yours.”

The device was now perfectly positioned, and Natasha activated it. The gentle vibrations began, and your body tensed in the restraints. You tried to hide your reactions, but Natasha could see right through you.

“Let’s see how long you can maintain that attitude,” Natasha said, her voice a silky purr. “Tell me what I need to know.”

You bit your lip, trying to maintain your composure. “Do you really think this will work? That I’ll just spill everything because of a little… pleasure?”

Natasha’s eyes darkened. “I think you’ll be surprised at how persuasive it can be.” The intensity of the device increased, and your breathing grew heavier. You tried to turn away, but the restraints held you firmly in place. Natasha watched you closely, knowing that your resolve would eventually crumble.

Minutes passed, and the room was filled with the sounds of your labored breaths and stifled moans. Natasha remained silent, her eyes never leaving your face. She knew exactly when your resistance began to waver.

“Ready to talk?” Natasha asked, her voice gentle but commanding. Your eyes met Natasha’s, filled with a mix of defiance and desperation. “I- I won’t… give in…”

Natasha leaned closer, her lips brushing your ear. “We’ll see about that.” The vibrations continued, pushing you closer to the edge. Natasha could see how close you were, your body trembling with the effort to hold back. Just as you were on the verge, Natasha deactivated the device, leaving you gasping for breath. FUCK, you thought. You glared at Natasha, your eyes burning with a mix of anger and desire. “You’re playing dirty.”

Natasha’s expression remained impassive. “All you have to do is talk, and this can be over.” You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “I’m not telling you anything.”

Natasha grinned. “Then we continue.”

She reactivated the device, and the cycle began anew. Natasha watched intently, noting every reaction, every tremble. She knew the female body well, knew how to read the signs of an approaching climax. Every time you got close, Natasha would stop, leaving you teetering on the edge.

“You’re… a real piece of work,” you panted, your body glistening with sweat. “Thank you,” Natasha replied coolly. “Now, tell me what I need to know.”

Your resolve weakened, your body betraying you. You wanted to resist, to keep your secrets, but Natasha’s relentless game wore you down. “Alright..” you gasped, desperation in your voice. “I’ll talk!“

Natasha is stepping closer to you. “Start talking.” You took a shaky breath, your body still trembling. “I… I was hired by HYDRA… to infiltrate SHIELD. They wanted… information on your operations… your weaknesses..“ Natasha nodded, her expression unreadable. “Who hired you? Names, Y/n.”

“Dr. Zola!” you admitted barely audibly. “He… he was the one who contacted me..“ Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “Where can we find him?”

You hesitated, and Natasha reached for the control panel again. „No, wait! I’ll tell you! He’s… he’s in a hidden facility… in the Alps. I can give you the coordinates!”

Natasha nodded, satisfied. “Good.”

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph. You had managed to deceive Natasha and keep your secrets. But your victory was short-lived.

“Did you enjoy your break?” Natasha asked, her voice deceptively calm. Your smugness wavered. “What do you mean?”

Natasha walked towards you slowly, each step calculated. “Do you think I'm stupid? That I would let you off that easily?”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

Natasha grinned, a predatory look in her eyes. “Oh, this is going to be fun for me.” Natasha stepped closer to you, her voice now a seductive whisper. “You see, Y/n, I know exactly how your mind works. Now, you’re going to learn the true meaning of torture.”

The vibrations began again, this time more intense and relentless. Your body reacted immediately, and Natasha watched with a knowing smile.

“I see you’re already close,” Natasha said, her voice dripping with mocking sympathy. “But this time, I won’t stop. I’m going to push you past every limit you have.”

You gasped, your body tensing as the device did its work. Natasha leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. “Tell me, Y/n. How does it feel to be outsmarted?”

Your breaths came in ragged bursts, your body on the brink. “When I get out of here-” Natasha’s smile widened. “Answers.Now.”

Your resolve shattered as you realized the futility of resistance. You spilled everything, your words a desperate rush. “Fuck! The facility is in the Carpathians, not the Alps. Zola… H-He is there, with a team! They’re developing a new Bio weapon!”

Natasha nodded, her eyes never leaving your face. “Good girl. See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” However, she didn’t stop. Instead, she increased the intensity. Your eyes widened in shock. “I told the truth!”

Natasha’s expression was cold and unyielding. “This is for lying earlier. You need to learn that there are consequences.”

Your body convulsed as you were pushed past your limit, your pleas turning into incoherent screams. Natasha watched impassively, making sure you learned your lesson.

She placed her hand on your body, her fingers stroking and teasing expertly, amplifying the overstimulation. Her touch was precise, knowing exactly how to drive you over the edge repeatedly.

“Do you feel that, Y/n?” Natasha whispered seductively. “I can do this all night. You won’t find any relief until I’m satisfied.”

Your eyes begged for mercy, but Natasha’s resolve was ironclad. „God, this Face is so cute..“ She continued her relentless torture, pushing you to multiple, agonizingly intense orgasms. Each time you thought you couldn’t take any more, Natasha found a new way to amplify the pleasure, keeping you on the brink of madness.

“You belong to me now,” Natasha said, her voice a velvety purr. “Every time you lie to me, this is what you’ll get.”

Your body shook uncontrollably, your mind barely holding on. Natasha’s hand moved to your clit, her fingers circling with expert precision. The overstimulation was unbearable, driving you over the edge again and again.

“Please… no more…” you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. Natasha’s smile was one of cold satisfaction. “Remember this feeling, Y/n. This is what happens when you cross me.”

Natasha leaned in one last time, her voice a deadly whisper. “Next time, think twice before you try to deceive me.”

“S-Should I apologize!? Is that what you want to h-hear?” you cried, your voice breaking. “I’m sorry, there y-you have it! Now turn it o-” You gasped, your words cut off by a shattering climax that coursed through you.

Natasha’s smile was triumphant, but she didn’t stop the machine. Instead, she leaned closer, her breath hot against your skin. “You’re so sweet.”

Your body writhed, your mind a haze of pleasure and pain. “N-Natasha!” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper. “Please…”

Natasha stepped closer, her hands now working in tandem with the machine. Her fingers found your clit again. Your eyes widened, a fresh wave of pleasure crashing over you. “No… no, please… I can’t take it…!“ you begged, your voice a hoarse whisper.

“Oh, yes, you can,” Natasha replied, her voice dripping with dark amusement. “And you will.” Natasha knew you weren’t in any real pain, just overwhelmed by pleasure. She knew your body so well, every sensitive spot mapped in her mind. She could sense your inner conflict, your head shaking in defiance while your body responded with undeniable arousal. Deep down, you agreed, unable to deny the raw pleasure coursing through your veins.

Your body arched, your mind a whirl of sensations. Natasha’s fingers and the relentless machine worked in harmony, driving you to heights of pleasure you hadn’t thought possible. Every touch, was designed to break you, to make you completely surrender.

“Say it again.” Natasha whispered, her breath hot against your ear. Your voice was a broken sob. “I’m sorry… Please… Please…” you repeated, your body trembling violently.

“Good girl,” Natasha cooed, her fingers never pausing. “But I want more. I want you to scream for me.” And you did. Your body writhed, every nerve on fire. You were sure you would die from the sheer intensity of the pleasure, your mind shattered, your will completely broken. Natasha’s hands were everywhere, her touch both torment and balm.

Her fingers moved with expert precision, finding the perfect spot that made you jerk violently in your restraints. “Ah, there it is,” Natasha purred, holding your hips steady as she intensified the stimulation. “I knew you had it in you.”

Your eyes rolled back, your body arching helplessly against the relentless pleasure. “FUCK… PLEASE… I’m begging you…!!”

���Beg all you want,” Natasha whispered, her voice deep and sensual. “I love hearing you beg. Where’s your attitude now, hm?” Natasha taunted, her fingers never slowing. “You were so defiant before. What happened?”

“I…I..” your voice was a breathless sob, your body trembling with the intensity of your orgasm.

Natasha’s fingers continued their merciless assault, finding every sensitive spot and exploiting it ruthlessly. Your body arched, your mind breaking under the sheer intensity of the pleasure. You were sure you would die from it, your will completely shattered under Natasha’s expert touch.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Natasha slowed the machine and her fingers, giving you a moment to catch your breath. She leaned close, her lips brushing your ear. “You did good,” she murmured. “But remember, there’s always more to tell, more to give.”

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your body sagging in the restraints. In that moment, you knew you were utterly and completely at Natasha’s mercy. And there was nothing you could do about it.

[rileyslibrary]

Okay okay but hear me out- reader gets assigned on their first solo mission by Price and Ghost is inwardly concerned for them and keeps subtly giving tips to reader about the basics of any mission as way to prepare them

Hi, anon and thank you for requesting this! I made some minor adjustments to the original idea since I got lost in the process once I began writing. Reader is also fully aware of Ghost’s concerns and messes with him.

Fluffy, the usual banter, an emotionally constipated Ghost, yada yada. Enjoy!

———————————————————————

“Again,” Ghost murmurs as he shuffles through the row of tactical knives on the table. He decides on one, picks it up and walks towards you. “What is this?” He asks.

You look up from tying the laces of your boots and redirect your attention at him. He either believes you’re an idiot or doesn’t trust you enough. Either way, it’s not a good sign.

“Good question, Lieutenant,” you reply. “What you’re holding in your hands is a knife. Knives were one of the earliest tools used by humanity to-”

“Cut it out.”

“That’s correct!” you exclaim. “You mainly use one of those to cut stuff.”

A long sigh escapes him, and he throws his head up. He lowers the knife and walks towards the table, scratching the back of his balaclava with the other hand. He takes a few breaths, turns around and lifts the knife again.

“That’s not what I’m asking, and you know it.” He growls. “What kind of knife is it?”

“A sharp one.”

“Stop it.”

“You mean stab it?” you ask and continue tying your laces. “Yes. Yes, you can definitely stab with it.”

He throws the knife onto the table and leans on a chair, holding it with both hands. His brows are tied together, and you can see his jaw tightening beneath the balaclava.

“I need you to focus.” He says firmly. “This is not the right time for jokes.”

You stand up and walk towards him, now standing by his side. You grab his shoulder and squeeze it. He doesn’t budge, yet he slowly shakes his head.

“You’re worried.” You state.

“I’m not worried.” He replies. “I don’t know what Price was thinking; the stakes are too high for this to be your first solo mission.”

“So you don’t trust me.”

“Of course I trust you.” He says and lets go of the chair. “It’s just too dangerous for you to go alone.”

“So you are worried.” You whisper with a smirk.

He looks at you with the side of his eye and picks up a map from the table. He spreads it out in front of him.

“Alright,” he says, “let’s go over the route again.”

“Got it,” you nod. “So, what’s the plan?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s the plan?’” He shouts, turning to look at you with wide eyes. “We’ve been through this-”

“-a hundred times now.” You interrupt. “Yet you still want to go over it again and again and again and again.”

“I just need you to be ready.”

“I am ready!”

“Then go on,” he says, pushing the map towards you, “what’s the plan?”

“Alright,” you begin, pointing to a door on the eastern side of the facility. “I’ll start here, at the service entrance. It’s not heavily guarded since they mainly use it for their occasional smoke breaks.”

“But you’ll still need to be cautious,” He adds.

You ignore his remark and continue to outline the route.

“From there,” you say, moving your finger along a series of corridors, “I’ll make my way through the maintenance tunnels. They’re narrow and dark but should provide good cover from security patrols.”

“And when you reach the central hub,” Ghost continues, pointing to a large room at the heart of the facility, “you’ll need to be especially careful since that’s where the security is the tightest. There’s only one entry point, so once you get to this door you should-”

“Knock.”

He slowly turns towards you and gives you a side-eye. “You’re not taking this seriously,” he whispers.

“On the contrary, Lieutenant,” you jest. “I’m deadly serious.”

“Deadly serious?” he scoffs and shakes his head. “You might end up seriously dead if you don’t pay attention.”

You roll your eyes and let out a sigh.

“When I get close to that door,” you say, pointing at the map, “I’ll wait for Soap and Gaz to manipulate the security systems and set off the alarms. Once the commotion is at its highest, I’ll infiltrate the hub, collect the intel, and escape through the ventilation shafts.”

“Right,” he says and folds the map. “Do you have everything you need?”

You turn your attention to yourself, checking your tactical vest, and he does the same. His eyes scan over every piece of equipment on you. He walks around you, tracing his fingers along the edges of your gear, checking for any signs of damage. He reaches out to adjust a loose strap on your vest, ensuring it’s securely fastened.

“You need to make sure everything is secure,” he says as he continues to search each pocket and pouch on you, ensuring that your supplies are well-stocked and easily accessible. “We can’t risk losing any essential gear during the mission.”

You follow him with your eyes and smirk as he inspects you. “Is that what worries you?” You ask. “Losing gear?”

He pauses for a second and meets your eyes. “You know what I mean,” he says as he tightens a buckle on your waist. He takes a few steps back and nods. “Everything looks good,” he concludes.

“Alright,” you nod back and walk towards the door. “Let’s do this.”

“Stay sharp out there!” he shouts.

“Yeah, yeah,” You shout back as you exit the briefing room, “sharp like a knife!”

———————————————————————

[newobsessionweekly]

Puppy

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

Tim Bradford x fem!reader Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: While you visit Tim at the station, you are too nice to a teenager he just arrested. To your boyfriend's exasperation, you pay the bail for the kid and cook him a warm dinner.

Warnings: don't think so, pure fluff, not proofread yet

Fluff Requested: Yes Words: 2.5k

GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

"So," Lucy began tentatively, stealing a glance at the sergeant. "I saw you the other day. Looking at those rings."

"Chen." Tim warned his aide.

"Are you proposing to Y/N?" she pressed, her excitement bubbling over.

"That's not your business."

But Lucy wasn't about to let it go. "Look," she said eagerly, "If you need help picking the ring, I can help. I can – I don't know, have a little talk, find out what kind of ring she wants."

"I've got this, thanks," his voice was tinged with a hint of annoyance.

"We both know you don't." Lucy leaned back, "An engagement ring is not just any jewelry she can hide in a closet if she doesn't like it."

"I think I know what she wants."

"Remember her birthday present?" she reminded him, earning an accusing glance from Tim. "Just saying. Please, at least consider it, for Y/N."

Lucy opened her mouth to say more, but Tim's eyes caught something up ahead. His expression shifted to one of relief, a welcome distraction from Lucy's insistence.

"Hold that thought."

She followed his gaze and saw a young boy attempting to break into a parked car. The kid couldn't have been more than fifteen, his hands fumbling nervously with the lock. Tim pulled the shop to a stop and got out, Lucy following closely behind.

"Dispatch, this is Sergeant Bradford. We've got a possible 459 in progress at the corner of 4th and Main."

"Hey! Step away from the car!" Tim called out, his voice authoritative.

The boy froze, his eyes wide with fear. He turned to run, but Lucy was already moving, cutting off his escape route. "It's okay," she said gently, her demeanor softening. "We're not here to hurt you."

Tim approached, his expression softening just a bit."What do you think you're doing?"

The boy stammered, "I—I wasn't going to steal it, I swear. I just... I need some money. My mom's sick, and we can't afford the meds."

The boy looked down at his feet and Lucy sighed, recognising the familiar signs of desperation. "Look, we can help you. But breaking into cars isn't the way to go."

"You need to come with us and tell us everything. We'll figure something out."

The shop was quiet except for the hum of the engine and the sound of Lucy's fingers tapping on her phone. Tim glanced over at her, his focus shifting between the road and his aide's ever-present curiosity.

"TouristPlanet says that Hawaii is number one for proposals," Lucy broke the silence, her eyes never leaving the phone.

"Chen, I don't need help. I've done it before, I know how it works," Tim replied, exasperated but with a hint of amusement.

Lucy ignored his brush-off. "Oh, but I love Y/N! I just want everything to be perfect for her. I mean, it's huge."

Tim sighed, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "And you don't think I love her enough to make this special?"

"I didn't say that," Lucy replied quickly. "You've done it before, it's not a big deal for you. But it's her first proposal and she loves you."

"It is a big deal," Tim admitted, his voice softer now. "I think I love her even more than I loved Isabel back then. So it's more complicated now."

Lucy’s eyes widened in surprise, a soft smile spreading across her face. "You have a heart after all."

"Chen. Shut up." he shot her a warning sideways glance, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Yes, sir."

As you step into the bustling station, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sugary donuts fills the air, mingling with the sound of urgent radio chatter and shuffling footsteps. You clutch the cardboard tray tighter, a smile playing on your lips as you navigate through the familiar chaos, scanning the faces for Tim's unmistakable handsomeness.

Not finding him among the desks, you make your way to Grey's office, offering a cheery wave before stepping inside.

"Morning, Sarge."

Grey glances up from his paperwork, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Y/N. Always a pleasure to have you around," he responds welcoming.

With a graceful motion, you offer him a cup of steaming coffee and gesture towards the assortment of donuts nestled in the box. The sergeant chuckles softly, accepting the offering with a nod of appreciation.

"Please do come more often," he jests, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I'll keep that in mind," you reply playfully but your attention is elsewhere, your gaze still searching the room for that familiar figure. "You know where I can find Tim?"

With a knowing nod, Grey gestures for you to follow him as he leads the way towards the processing room. As you step inside, the atmosphere shifts from bustling activity to a more subdued intensity.

"Bradford. You have a visitor," Grey announces, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

Tim looks up from his paperwork, his gaze meeting yours, and a soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips. His gaze lifts, his expression softening at the sight of you standing there, a welcome interruption to the monotony of his day.

"Hey," he greets you, a flicker of surprise in his voice. "What are you doing here?"

You set the tray of treats down on a nearby table and close the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. "Hey handsome," you reply, your voice muffled against his chest. "You left early and I thought you could use some coffee."

Tim’s strong arms pulled you closer, the familiar scent of his cologne mingles with the coffee and donuts, grounding you in the moment. You feel his strong, warm body melting in your arms and the steady beat of his heart, a gentle reminders of how much you love him.

Pulling back slightly, you look up into his eyes, which are now filled with a gentle warmth that belies his grumpiness.Tim’s hand finds yours, giving it a gentle squeeze before he releases you.

"You’re a lifesaver."

Lucy wander into the room, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the treats. "Y/N, you spoil us," she teases, reaching for a donut.

Your eyes drift across the room, settling on a teenage boy obediently following an officer's commands, his shoulders slumped and eyes downcast. Concern wells up inside you.

"Tim," you ask softly, nodding towards the boy, "what's with the kid? What's he doing here?"

He glances over at the kid, his expression hardening. "Kid tried to break into a car. Said he needed the money to pay for his mom's meds."

Your heart aches at the sight of the innocent boy, his face etched with fear and worry. "What's going to happen to him?" you ask, your voice soft with concern.

Tim sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "He'll probably get away with bail. First offense, and the circumstances are... mitigating."

Moved by the boy’s plight, you make a decision. “Tim, can I have your card?” you ask, reaching out your hand.

Your boyfriend eyes you warily, his brow furrowing. "Why?"

"Just trust me."

He frowns but doesn't question your request further. He fishes a card from his pocket and hands it to you. As you reach for the box of donuts, his frown deepens.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" he asks, his voice rising with annoyance.

You stop to meet his gaze, "Trust me, please."

Tim watches you walk over to the boy and kneel down, his jaw tightening. "This is ridiculous," he mutters under his breath, his grumpiness evident as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"Can I have a minute with him?" you ask Lucy, who is in the midst of processing the boy.

Lucy looks over at Tim, seeking his approval. His eyes narrow, but he gives a curt nod, though his frustration is palpable. Lucy steps aside, joining your boyfriend as they watch you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Hi, there." you say softly, your voice kind and shooting, "I'm Y/N. What's your name?"

"Charlie."

"Well, Charlie, Sergeant Bradford told me you're in some kind of trouble." you say gently, your heart breaking at his situation.

The boy looks up at you, tears welling in his eyes. "I didn't mean to do anything wrong. I– I just want to help mom."

"I know, sweetheart. You hungry?" you ask, offering him a comforting smile.

Charlie nods, and you hand him the box full of donuts. His eyes widen in surprise and gratitude as he takes it.

You write your name and number on Tim's card and hand it to him. "It's gonna be okay for now. But if you have any other problems, please give us a call. If you don't want to talk to Bradford, you can call me, okay?"

"Thanks. I– I will," Charlie says, clutching the card like a lifeline.

"Where's your mom?" you ask, wanting to understand more about his situation.

"In hospital. She– uh, she has cancer and treatment is expensive."

"You stay with her at the hospital?" you ask gently, your mind already made up to help him.

Charlie nods, tears brimming in his eyes. Determined to do more, you know you'll pay his bail and offer any support you can.

Tim strides over, his expression a mix of annoyance and concern. His grumpiness, which had momentarily melted away, returns in full force. "Alright, that's enough," he says, his voice firm and edged with frustration. "We need to get things moving."

You stand up, giving Charlie one last reassuring smile. "Remember, call me if you need anything," you say before turning to Tim.

He looks at you, his irritation clear. "Y/N, you can't save everyone," he mutters, shaking his head. "This isn't your job."

You meet his gaze, "I know. But I can try to help one," you reply softly.

"You really shouldn't get involved like that," he says, his voice softer now, filled with concern.

"I know."

He sighs, reaching to take your hand into his. "But I love that about you. Just...promise me you'll be careful. For my sake."

You squeeze his hand, smiling warmly. "I promise."

The end of the shift greets Tim and Lucy walking towards their cars, the sky darkening with the onset of evening. The station is quieter now, the earlier hustle and bustle giving way to the calm of a winding-down day. He's itching to get home, to feel the warmth and comfort of your presence, to escape the relentless grind of the day.

"Hey, Tim," Lucy starts, glancing at him curiously. "Did you pay the bail for that Charlie boy we arrested this morning?"

Tim raises an eyebrow, surprised. "No, why?"

"Because someone did," Lucy explains, frowning. "I checked, and he doesn’t have any other family besides his mom. I can't figure out who would have done it."

His eyes narrow, and then it hits him. "I think I know who."

The drive home is a blur as he processes the day's events. When he finally steps through the front door, he’s greeted by the comforting aroma of dinner cooking and the sound of upbeat song playing in the background.

"Sweetheart, I'm home," he calls out, his voice echoing through the house.

You turn around, a bright smile on your face. "Hey, babe. Come, come. Dinner's almost ready."

Tim steps into the kitchen, and his eyes widen in pure shock as he spots Charlie sitting at the island, a plate of snacks in front of him.

"Y/N, a word," Tim says, his voice tight.

"Make yourself at home, Charlie. We'll be right back."

You give the kid a big smile while Tim forces a very strained one, then you follow him to the bedroom. He closes the door behind you with more force than necessary, his frustration evident.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Tim demands, his voice rising in anger.

"I know, I'm sorry. I should've talked to you. But I couldn't let him stay in jail. He's been sleeping in a hospital chair, Babe. God knows when it was the last time he had a proper, warm meal. There's no one to look after him."

Tim runs a hand through his hair, his anger barely contained. "I can't believe you did that. You’ve got ourselves a puppy," he mutters, his tone sharp.

"What?" you ask, confused.

"Nothing."

You place a gentle hand on his arm, your eyes pleading. "Tim, listen to me. This kid needs help. He's scared and alone. I couldn't just walk away."

You step even closer, wrapping your arms around his waist, feeling the tension in his muscles.

"You can't just bring home a stray. This is serious, Y/N. We're not a shelter."

"Charlie is not a stray, he needs help. His mom is in the hospital with cancer, and he's been trying to fend for himself," you explain, "We have the means to help him, at least for one night."

"This isn't just about money or means, Y/N. It's about safety and boundaries. We can't take in every kid with a sob story."

"I get that, but this isn't just any kid. You saw him today, baby. He's not a criminal; he's just a boy trying to help his mom," you argue, stepping closer to him. "We can't turn our backs on him."

Tim's frustration is simmering beneath the surface. "Damn it, Y/N. This is exactly why I worry about you. You have a big heart, and I don't want to see you get hurt."

You rested your head on his chest. "I know. But I can't just turn my back when someone needs help. I get involved because I care," you say softly, meeting his eyes, "And you care too, whether you want to admit it or not."

"I can't say no to you, can I?" he mutters, his voice a mix of exasperation and affection.

You smile up at him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

Tim looks at you, his grumpiness warring with his love for you. "I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," he sighs again, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you even closer, "Just one night," he says, "And then we figure out what to do next."

You nod, relief flooding through you. "I promise. Just one night."

Pressing a kiss to your forehead, his grumpiness is melting away, "You're impossible, you know that?" a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"I know," you reply, smiling back at him. "But you love me anyway."

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. "Yeah, I do," he admits, his voice tender. "Now let's go see how our guest is doing."

[p0orbaby]

Finders Keepers

summary: you’re good at catching things, leah’s eye is one of them

warnings: a little suggestive

a/n: thank you for the request !

word count: 2k

-

You’re the new goalkeeper coach for the Lionesses, which is great, except for one glaring problem: Leah Williamson. She’s distracting, in the way that a house fire distracts you from finishing your cup of tea. You’ve never coached a team that required so much attention to detail, and you’re starting to understand why. You need every neuron firing just to remember how to breathe when she’s in the vicinity, let alone when she’s talking to you.

And she talks to you a lot. It’s not always about goalkeeping either, which is alarming, because you’re really only equipped to discuss which angle to cover or how to improve reaction time. Instead, she wants to talk about where you’re from, what you think of London, whether or not you like Thai food. She asks you about your star sign once, which is bizarre because you’re not sure if she believes in that sort of thing or is just trying to make you sweat. You lie and say you’re a Pisces, mostly because it seems like the least offensive answer, and she nods like that explains something.

You try to keep your interactions professional, but she makes it difficult. For instance, Leah has a habit of “accidentally” bumping into you. She claims it’s because she’s got bad spatial awareness, but you’re fairly certain she just likes the way you flinch when she does it. You’ve read somewhere that “accidental” touch is a sign of attraction, but you’re not sure if that applies when the person doing the touching has the coordination of an european champion.

One day after training, she lingers on the pitch while you’re gathering up cones, which you suspect is an attempt to chat you up. She watches you with a smirk, and you can feel her eyes burning into the back of your head like an exceptionally focused laser pointer.

“You missed one,” she says, pointing out a cone about three feet to your right. You didn’t miss it, but you pick it up anyway because you can’t think of anything better to do.

“Thanks,” you mumble, trying not to meet her eyes, because when you do, it’s like looking directly at the sun. Leah Williamson is a human eclipse, and you’re about to go blind from prolonged exposure.

“No problem,” she replies, not moving.

She’s still standing there when you finish. You’re holding a bag of cones and looking for an escape route, but she’s planted herself directly in your path like she’s grown roots.

“You’re not running off, are you?” she asks, with the kind of grin that makes you wish you’d pursued a career in something less perilous, like bomb disposal.

“I was thinking about it,” you admit, and she laughs, which is a mistake because her laugh does things to you—dangerous, uncoachable things.

“You’re cute,” she says, and now you’re actively searching for the nearest exit, because if she keeps this up, you’re going to do something really stupid, like ask her out for coffee or give her your social security number.

“Uh, thanks,” you stammer, clutching the bag of cones like it’s a life preserver.

She tilts her head, clearly amused by your discomfort. “No need to be nervous,” she says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to relax when Leah Williamson is standing less than a foot away from you.

You’re not nervous, you want to say, but that would be a lie, and you’re not about to start lying to yourself, not when you’ve done such a good job of repressing your feelings up until this point.

“Well,” you say, taking a step back, “I should probably—”

“Want to get a drink?” she interrupts, like she’s asking you if you want to grab a sandwich, and you nearly drop the cones because your brain can’t process the words coming out of her mouth.

“What?” you blurt out, because that’s all your synapses can muster.

“A drink,” she repeats, like it’s the most normal thing in the world for a player to ask out their coach. “You know, alcohol? Liquid courage?”

You’re pretty sure you’ve just suffered a minor stroke, because the world tilts sideways and your pulse goes through the roof. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” you manage to say, which is the understatement of the year, considering the fact that you’ve spent the last three months trying to convince yourself that Leah is just another player on the team, and not the walking, talking embodiment of temptation.

“Why not?” she asks, and you can tell by her tone that she’s genuinely curious, like the idea of you turning her down is as foreign to her as the concept of gravity.

“Because,” you start, then pause, because you don’t have a good reason, and she knows it.

“Because?” she prompts, raising an eyebrow.

“Because it’s unprofessional,” you say finally, as if professionalism is something you’ve ever been good at.

“We’re not at work now,” she points out, and you hate that she’s right. You hate that she’s standing so close to you that you can see the tiny freckle just above her left eyebrow. You hate that you want to reach out and touch it, trace the shape of her face with your fingers.

“Leah—” you start, but she cuts you off by taking a step forward, closing the gap between you. She’s close enough now that you can smell the faint hint of her shampoo, something fresh and citrusy that makes you want to bury your face in her hair and never come up for air.

“I’ll see you later, then,” she says, and it’s not a question.

-

You don’t know why you go. Maybe it’s because you’ve never been particularly good at saying no, or maybe it’s because the idea of Leah waiting for you is too tempting to resist. Either way, you find yourself standing outside the pub, staring at the sign like it’s going to give you the answers to the universe.

Inside, Leah’s already at the bar, leaning against the counter with the kind of casual confidence that makes you wonder if she’s ever had an awkward moment in her life. When she spots you, she grins, and it’s like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.

“You made it,” she says, as if there was any doubt.

“Yeah,” you reply, because what else can you say? I’m here because I’m an idiot? I’m here because I can’t stop thinking about you? I’m here because I’m trying really hard not to fall in love with you and failing miserably?

“Drink?” she asks, holding up her pint glass.

“Sure,” you say, because if you’re going to make bad decisions, you might as well make them with alcohol in your system.

She orders you a drink, something that tastes like it should be served in a coconut with an umbrella, but you don’t complain because it’s delicious and also because Leah’s eyes are twinkling in that way that makes your stomach do somersaults.

“So,” she says after a moment, “why don’t you want to go out with me?”

The question hits you like a freight train. “I never said that,” you protest, but your voice is weak, like you’re already losing this battle.

“You didn’t have to,” she replies, taking a sip of her drink and watching you over the rim of the glass. “But you’re not very good at hiding it”

“I’m not?” you ask, horrified at the idea that your feelings might be more obvious than you’d like to admit.

“Nope,” she says, popping the “p” in a way that should be illegal. “It’s written all over your face”

“Oh.” You stare into your drink, wondering if it’s possible to drown in a pint glass.

“But it’s okay,” she continues, and now she’s leaning in closer, her knee brushing against yours under the table. “Because I’m not really good at hiding it either”

And that’s when you know you’re completely, irrevocably screwed.

-

It’s not a relationship, you tell yourself, because relationships require labels, and what you and Leah have is more like an ongoing series of bad decisions strung together by moments of sheer idiocy.

You try to keep things professional, but it’s difficult when she keeps showing up at your door with that grin and that laugh and those hands that seem to know exactly where to touch you to make your brain short-circuit.

One night, after you’ve spent far too long convincing yourself that you’re strong enough to resist her, she shows up at your flat with food and a bottle of wine. You know it’s a trap, but you let her in anyway, because you’re a sucker for Thai fried rice and bad decisions.

You spend the evening on the settee, eating and drinking and pretending like you’re not going to end up in bed together by the end of the night. You watch some terrible low budget comedy that Leah picked out, and you’re about halfway through when she starts inching closer to you, like she’s trying to be subtle but failing spectacularly.

“You’re sitting awfully close,” you point out, because it’s either that or spontaneously combust from the proximity.

“Am I?” she asks innocently, but there’s a twinkle in her eye that tells you she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Yes,” you reply, but you don’t move away, because if you’re going to go down in flames, you might as well enjoy the heat.

She grins, and then her hand is on your thigh, fingers tracing patterns that make your heart race. “I think you like it,” she says, and it’s not a question.

“I think you’re trouble,” you counter, but you don’t stop her when she leans in and kisses you, soft and slow, like she’s got all the time in the world.

You kiss her back, because you’re weak and because she tastes like wine and because you’re tired of pretending like this isn’t exactly what you want.

The rest of the movie is forgotten as you tumble into bed together, a mess of tangled limbs and breathless laughter. It’s fast and frantic, like you’re both trying to make up for lost time, and when it’s over, you’re left lying there, staring at the ceiling and wondering how you got here.

“Don’t think too hard,” Leah murmurs, her head resting on your chest, and you can feel her breath against your skin, warm and steady. “You’ll hurt yourself”

“Too late,” you mutter, but you don’t push her away, because despite everything, despite all the reasons this is a terrible idea, you like the way she feels next to you.

“We’re a disaster,” you say after a while, because the silence is starting to make you anxious, and you’ve never been good at sitting with your own thoughts.

“I know,” she replies, and you can hear the smile in her voice. “But we’re a fun disaster”

You can’t argue with that, so you don’t. Instead, you close your eyes and let yourself drift off, hoping that when you wake up, you won’t regret this as much as you probably should.

-

You start seeing each other regularly after that, though you both refuse to call it dating. Dating implies a level of commitment that you’re not ready to acknowledge, and anyway, this is more like…mutual self-destruction with benefits.

You try to keep it a secret from the team, but you’re fairly certain they’re onto you. Especially after that time Leah practically tackled you during training because she “tripped” over her own feet, which would be believable if she wasn’t literally the most coordinated person you’ve ever met.

“You’re an idiot,” you tell her later, as you’re trying to pry her off of you in the changing room, but she just laughs and kisses you on the cheek, because apparently she’s incapable of taking anything seriously.

“I’m your idiot,” she replies, and you hate how much you love the sound of that.

You’re not sure how long this can go on before everything blows up in your face, but for now, you’re content to keep making the same mistakes over and over again. After all, if you’re going to screw up, you might as well do it with someone who makes it fun.

And Leah Williamson, for all her flaws, is nothing if not fun.

Even if she is going to be the death of you.

[milswrites]

At the end of the night

~ Azriel X Fem Illyrian!Reader

Based on this request

Summary: They say you never forget your first love. So how could Azriel move on when you were never far from his mind?

Warnings: Gross men, intoxication, injury, blood, talks of wing clipping, talks of Azriel’s past, smut 18+ mdni (p in v), angst, fluff, the whole shebang.

Word count: 8.7k

'Tell me the story about how the sun loved the moon so much that he dies every night to let her breathe, and in return, she reflects his love.'

The hour was late.

Far too late for a young woman such as yourself to be walking through the shadowed streets of Windhaven unaccompanied. The waning moon lost amongst the clouds as you moved under the cover of darkness.

You had no true destination in mind. Rather, your aimless wandering was done on account of you trying to pass the hours until you were able to return home once more. The lurking dangers of Windhaven appeared much more appealing than whatever bacchic activities were currently taking place at your home.

Night becoming your only friend as you spent all your time within its company.

It was now common practice, keeping yourself occupied whilst your father drank himself to oblivion alongside his barbarous friends. Your home no longer habitable, as with each day that passed it began to resemble a dreary tavern more and more.

Yet the streets themselves were just as an unpleasant place to be.

Even in the darkest hours of the night, the camp was still teeming with life. From lousy drunkards to irreputable whores, it seemed as though everybody was searching for some relief tonight. All seeking an escape from what was the hellish day-to-day of Windhaven.

It was therefore no surprise that your presence didn’t go unnoticed as you worked your way through the miserable throng. The sight of a young woman such as yourself, alone and unaccompanied during the midnight hours, was enough to capture the unwanted attention of a nearby group of intoxicated Illyrians.

They moved quickly.

One moment laughing amongst themselves as they stumbled along the uneven paving, and the next, they had you surrounded. Eyes ravenous and smiles sinister, they approached like a predator closing in on its prey.

The male closest to you hungrily trailed his tongue across his lips, taking a sweeping glance of your tense form before speaking, “Not lost are you sweetheart?”

The putrid scent of his foul breath was enough to make your wings curl in distaste, nose twitching with disgust as you replied curtly, “No, I’m just looking for my friend that’s all.”

You attempted to sidestep the male in order to continue on you way. Having provided them the false knowledge that someone was waiting for you, you hoped that would be enough to keep the group of inebriated males at bay.

Yet luck was not on your side tonight.

The firm grip of a calloused hand shooting out to meet your arm as the male who first spoke held you in place. “A friend?” he scoffed, knowing smile growing across his face as he made a show of checking his surroundings, lips pouting with faux disappointment as his eyes turned back to you, “I don’t see any friends.”

“Hence the looking” you spat, tearing your arm from his tight grasp as your wild eyes fluttered about in search of an exit route between the ever-nearing group of males.

Dauntingly, the largest of the warriors took a slow step towards you, wicked features half-lost to the shadows as he approached.

“You don’t need to lie sweetheart” he simpered, attempting to bring his hand to rest on your shoulder as you stumbled away from his touch. Flaring your wings in an attempt to appear more intimidating. But your action meant nothing to the male who continued to advance, “We’ll keep you company darling. What kind of gentlemen would we be if we left a pretty girl like you all alone in a place like this?”

Words lost to the rising panic growing in your chest, your gaze continued to fly around in desperation. Begging stare lost upon the disinterested faces of the passer-byers who wanted no part in the troublesome scene brewing.

In one final act of hope, you raised your fists. Ready to make a stand as you ignored the shaking of your wings and trembling of your knees. Yet your courage was wasted, sadistic laughs spilling from their lips as the males continued to move in closer, unphased by your valiant act of bravery.

But then darkness approached.

Lanterns extinguishing as the shadows crawled in.

With the light gone, the menacing grins plastered on your tormentors faces dropped, bodies tense as the dark silhouette of foreboding wings slowly crept towards them. Braced to flee as the stranger began to speak with a deadly air of calm.

“She’s not alone, she’s with me.”

~~~

You’d never had a friend before.

Windhaven had always been a place of strained alliances and disgruntled kinship. It was the last location you’d expect to see anything beautiful bloom amongst the weeds.

And yet, ever since that fateful day when the shadowsinger had swooped in to rescue you before delivering you safely home, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that perhaps the two of you were meant to be more than amicable acquaintances.

Azriel must have shared that feeling. The male having come to find you the next day, and the day after that. Which is why it was no surprise that it didn’t take long for the two of you to become inseparable.

Those somber nights spent walking around the camp with only yourself for company were now far behind you. Rather, the young male sought you out at the end of each workday, whisking you away from your home before your father had even the chance to pick up a bottle.

It was during these nights, where the two of you would sit and talk for hours. Your conversation acting as an escape from the cruel reality of your lives. Each story told and laugh shared working to make the pair of you forget exactly what was waiting for you back at the camp.

Sometimes, the two of you didn’t even talk at all. Simply being within each other’s presence was soon enough for the two of you to be content. You never thought about your troubled father or uncertain future when you were with Azriel, you didn’t need to.

Not when being with him made you forget.

Therefore, it was no wonder that between your riveting conversations and lingering touches, you found yourself pondering exactly what your relationship with Azriel was.

That perhaps the feeling which had sparked inside of you upon your first meeting wasn’t just the need for friendship, but the desire for something greater.

And so for the first time in your life, you allowed yourself to dream.

~~~

Cassian’s frenzied appearance at your door was the last thing you had expected to see in the early hours of the morning. His chest heaving with the effort of catching his breath long enough to be able to get the words out.

“It’s. Az.”

He needn’t say another word, your feet already working to carry you away from your home as Cassian’s exhausted voice called out from behind, “The training rings, he’s at the training rings!”

You ran, feet aching and heart pounding, until you finally reached your destination. Feet dragging to a halt as your wide eyes witnessed the spine-chilling scene before you.

A bloodied Azriel, eye swollen and jaw bruised, was being torn from an equally mutilated male. Eyes savage and tongue bitter as he continued to shout unintelligible nonsense at the grounded Illyrian. Rhysand’s face turning red with the effort it was taking to restrain his hysterical friend.

“Az?” you uttered lowly, mouth parting in disbelief as you took in his manic state. Heart plunging as your eyes dropped to the weeping cuts on his blood-stained fists.

Ears pricking at your voice, Azriel’s head snapped towards you, body slacking in Rhysand’s hold as he noticed your arrival. Dark brows knitting together in shame as he shrank under your disappointed stare.

Mustering the strength to pull himself from Rhysand’s crushing grip, Azriel broke away from his friend. Casting one last lethal look towards the crumpled warrior at his feet before stalking away. Walking straight past you without so much as a glance in your direction.

“Males” you huffed with a shake of your head, struggling to tear your gaze from the macabre scene before you in order to chase after your friend.

It didn’t take you long to find him.

Azriel having predictably fled to the spot where you spent most of your time together. Retreating to the small clearing tucked deep within the forest surrounding Windhaven. No doubt needing a space far from prying eyes to clear his tempestuous thoughts.

You made to clear your throat as you approached, cautious not to startle an adrenaline-spiked Illyrian. Yet Azriel beat you to it.

“I’m not going to apologize” his gravelly voice cut through the silence of your surroundings, hazel eyes failing to meet your own as you closed the distance between you, “that bastard got what was coming to him.”

Lowering yourself to the leaf-littered ground in order to sit by his side, you took a deep breath before moving to rest your head against his tense shoulder. A soft sigh escaping from your lips before you spoke, “Are you alright? . . . Your hands -”

“Have seen worse” Azriel replied, lips twitching with the bare-bones of a smile in response to your concern, “I’m fine, truly.”

Yet his harrowed eyes told you otherwise.

Azriel’s gaze cold and absent as he stared at the forest floor.

“Why?” you simply asked, face a picture of confusion as you tried to make sense of what could have been said to elicit such a reaction from the shadowsinger.

“You wouldn’t understand” he said dismissively, shrugging as he started to pick at the laces of his boots in avoidance.

“Try me” you answered, hand moving to stop his anxious action, pulling his own into your lap to assess the damage that had been done. Hoping that if your eyes were occupied elsewhere, the male might find it easier to speak.

An hour may have passed, or perhaps only minutes, yet when Azriel finally spoke his voice commanded your attention, “He said I was unworthy of being an Illyrian.”

“That’s it?” you question, brows drawing together as you failed to understand how Azriel would let some simple little remark get under his skin in the way it had, “That’s all he said?”

Azriel released a shaky sigh, knuckles turning white underneath the caked blood as he elaborated. “I didn’t -” Azriel paused to allow a harsh exhale, “I didn’t grow up Illyrian.”

You were unable to stop the way in which your eyes left Azriel’s hand in order to flicker to his face in surprise. He had never spoken about his past before. You had always surmised that it wasn’t pretty, his scars had told you that much. But for the sake of his privacy you had never pressed him further.

Yet here he was, offering you a piece of his dark and twisted past.

“I spent most of my childhood in a cage. I couldn’t train, or fly. I didn't even have the luxury of space to spread my wings. And then . . .”

Your grip on Azriel's hand tightens as he struggled to find the words, your consoling touch giving him the strength he needed to continue, “And then my brothers thought it would be funny to test the true extent of an Illyrian’s healing gifts.”

The frigid nature of his fingers in your palm told you all you needed to know about that. Heart sinking and nausea growing as your gaze fell to the scarred contours of his hands, sickened that anyone would do that to a child – to their family.

“Then I was dumped here. Wings weak and hands frail," Azriel's frown of anger morphing into one of shame as he spoke, "and I felt . . . Useless. Eleven years old and I already knew that I was a lesser Illyrian than everybody else. All because I was never even given a chance at life.”

You wanted to speak, to comfort the male and tell him that he wasn’t the same little boy who had found himself stranded in Windhaven all those years ago, yet Azriel’s sharp inhale told you he wasn’t quite done.

“I could barely even hold a sword at training. It took years for my tendons to grow used to the strain. Even now I still have days where I struggle to even move them. . . But I worked too damn hard for anyone to tell me that I am any less of an Illyrian than they are.”

Azriel’s eyes were now swimming with tears, the male sniffling slightly as he finished what he had to say, “And when he told me that today . . . I was back to being that scared eleven-year-old boy with no friends. And I just felt worthless.”

"Never be ashamed of the things that make us” you reason, thumb moving to lightly caress the back of his scarred hand, "That's what determines a person's worth. Not their skill or ability. . . It's how hard a person fights to survive that tells you the most about them."

The shame washes from Azriel’s face, colour returning to his cheeks at your words. Soon your eyes were watering alongside his own as you gently brought your hand to meet the curve of his cheek, a soft smile gracing your lips as you spoke, “You’re not alone Az. Not anymore. You are one of the best things that has ever happened to me, and I won’t allow you to think you’re any less than that.”

Azriel stills, the tension in his shoulders easing as his grateful eyes moved to meet your own, "How is it. . . that you always know exactly what to say to make me feel better?"

You blush at the intensity of his thankful stare, ears burning red as you attempted to casually shrug away the male’s question, "Call it intuition."

Seeking to shift the male's attention from yourself, you hopped to your feet. Dusting yourself off as you offered out your hand for Azriel to take, "Come on trouble, let's go get you fixed up. I don't really think red is your colour."

And as the two of you walked back to camp, Azriel’s face now sore and aching as the adrenaline ebbed away, he wondered if he would ever have the courage to tell you that it wasn't being an Illyrian he was called unworthy of, but your love.

~~~

Spring had finally arrived at Windhaven.

The harsh conditions of winter had subsided, and the once icy camp had now thawed enough to reveal the frozen ground beneath. The shoots of new life, which had managed to outlast the chill of the dark months, now sprang forth in order to grow.

And for the Illyrian recruits, the changing of the seasons could only mean one thing.

The Blood Rite would soon commence.

All of Azriel's time had been given over to preparing for the upcoming ceremony. Hour after hour being spent in the training ring, perfecting his form, and building his strength. Whatever fleeting time you were able to have together was spent planning strategies and developing his survival skills.

You didn't mind, any time spent with Azriel was time well spent. You could even say that it was nice, witnessing the male in his element. The determination which coursed through his eyes whenever he spoke of the Blood Rite was enough to bring a proud smile to your lips.

Yet as the start of the ceremony loomed ever closer, you found yourself worrying more and more about Azriel’s well-being.

It’s not that you didn’t trust Azriel’s skill, but rather the fact that you didn’t trust the other males who would no doubt take great pleasure in besting the notorious shadowsinger.

Their leering sneers told you enough; Azriel was going to have to watch his back if he was planning on making it to Ramiel in one piece.

You did the best you could to help him, acquiring special ointments to massage into his aching hands with the hope of soothing his muscles for when the time came that he'd need to use his sword. You'd even taken to slipping various forms of mild poison into the food of the other males, praying that the toxins would keep their strength at bay long enough for Azriel to succeed.

But no amount of preparation worked to ease your anxiety as the day finally arrived. Your brow creased with worry as you stood in the square where the novice-warriors were beginning to gather, patiently waiting for Azriel to arrive in order to bid him farewell.

His confident smile, one of which he had no doubt worn for you, did nothing to sate your rising panic as he approached. Not even the soothing warmth of his comforting embrace brought you any joy. Rather, the action managed to bring tears to your eyes as you looked up to your friend in hapless despair, "Aren't I the one who's supposed to be doing the comforting?"

"You being here is enough for that" Azriel said lowly, hazel eyes squeezed tightly closed as he did his best to commit the feel of your body in his arms to memory. Not letting you part from his crushing hold until the camp leader had shouted the call for them to make their leave.

"Be safe" you choked through your tears as Azriel pulled away. His faux smile long forgotten as his expression turned into one of worry. Whether it was worry for your well-being or his own safety in the coming week, you did not know.

Azriel placed a parting kiss onto your forehead, hand lightly brushing against yours before he reluctantly began to walk away. "Always" he answered, hazel eyes never straying from you as he made his exit.

"Goodbye!" you called out after him, attempting to stretch an encouraging smile across your lips for his sake, your hand waving wildly as Azriel lifted his own to do the same. But then all of a sudden he stopped, body stiffening as though he had been struck by lightning.

Face drawn blank as he stared back at you.

"Az, what? -"

It took five steps for him to close the distance between you. Five swift steps for you to take in his dark, feral eyes. Five steps to wonder exactly what he was doing before his lips fell onto yours.

You had imagined this, the feel of his lips against yours, his tender hands wrapped around your curves as Azriel pulled you in closer.

But no dream could ever compare to the real thing.

To the feel of Azriel's soft lips molding against your own like they were made for each other. The heated desperation of the kiss working to steal your breath and weaken your knees. Each passionate swipe of his tongue and the salacious tug of your lip between his teeth, working to tell you everything that had until this moment remained unspoken.

And yet it was over all too soon.

Azriel pulling away upon the final call from his superiors, a heated breath of relief escaping from his swollen lips as he pulled away from you for the last time.

Finally turning to face his future, Azriel uttered, "No goodbyes."

This time when Azriel walked away, you allowed yourself to truly smile, eyes full of love as you enthusiastically waved goodbye until he was well out of sight.

The tears that fell, now ones of happiness as you watched the male head towards what he had worked so hard for. Heart full as you knew you needn't to be worried any longer.

Not when you knew Azriel had something worth fighting for – someone worth fighting for.

You.

Yet that feeling didn't last for long, all thoughts pulled from the shadowsinger as a heavy hand fell onto your shoulder.

Alarmed eyes shooting to the perpetrator, widening further still as they fell onto the gaunt face of your father. Eyes hollow and lips downturned as he ominously warned, "It's time girl."

~~~

It was dark when Azriel returned.

Having emerged from the rite victorious, the fortunate victors now arrived back into Windhaven to celebrate. Grins stretched across their lips as they walked towards the blazing fire where the rest of their evening was to be spent in merry enjoyment.

Yet there was no smile on the shadowsinger's face, not as he craned his neck to look past the crowd of well-wishers. Shadows aiding in his hunt by swimming through the pools of surrounding people, searching for the one face their master so longed to see.

Hoping to see the familiar smile which had carried him through the trials.

He needn't search far.

The sound of hurried footsteps filling his ears before a body collided with his own. His arms instinctively wrapping around your waist in order to pull you in closer, nose settling into the crook of your neck as he inhaled your sweet scent for the first time in a week.

"Gods, I missed you" he cried hoarsely, pulling back from the hug so as to be able to see your face again. Beaming as he brought a hand to cup your cheek, failing to notice the way in which your smile didn't quite meet your eyes. Adrenaline still rampant in his veins from the rite, Azriel wasted no time in bringing his lips to meet your own.

Where your first kiss had been rushed and desperate, this was one was slower, softer. Azriel taking his time with sweeping his lips over yours, savoring the moment in which you began to kiss him back. His worn hands working to slowly explore the length of your body as your lips danced together.

"Do you want to get out of here?" you whispered against his lips; words being met with the pearlescent grin of the shadowsinger.

Providing you with no answer, Azriel grabbed onto your hand before eagerly tugging you in the direction of his home. Too lost within his lovestruck haze to notice your unbalanced stumbles as you breathlessly trailed behind him.

"Az, where are you going? I thought we were going to celebrate!" Cassian's voice yelled after his retreating figure. Rhysand grabbed onto his brother's arm as he tugged him in the direction of the fire, a knowing smirk upon his lips as he answered, "I think he is celebrating Cas."

You were a flurry of limbs and giggles as you entered Azriel's home. Lips finding each other's once more as the pair of you became lost to your primal urges. The overwhelming need to be close to one another after only a week apart was almost too much to bear.

Sighs of intoxicated pleasure slipped from your mouth as Azriel began to trail his burning lips along the expanse of your neck. The male smirking as he slowly grazed his sharp teeth across your sensitive skin.

Needing more, Azriel moved to press your back against the wall in order to close the distance between you. Leaning in to seal your lips together once more until he was stopped by the painful cry which rang from your mouth.

It took seconds for the lust in the shadowsinger's dark eyes to fade.

Azriel's once sultry gaze growing panicked as his face contorted into a picture of horror. The amber glow of the faelight finally permissing him to see what the darkness of the night had hidden.

"Your wings!"

A shaky breath fell from Azriel's lips, hazel eyes swimming with tears as they raked over the scarred membrane of your clipped wings. Teeth bared as a low growl rumbled in his chest, "I'm going to kill him."

Fists trembling with rage, Azriel made to leave. Exhaustion after his trialing week long forgotten as the desire for revenge took an inescapable hold of him.

Yet your hands chased after him, holding onto Azriel's wrists in desperation as you looked up the male with begging eyes, "Stay. Please."

Shaking with the effort it was taking to stay put, Azriel sighed as he glances back to your wings. Jaw clenching as he cursed, "I should never have left."

Heart twinging at his self-placed blame, you pulled your lips into a sad smile, hand coming to rest against his quivering cheek, "You had to go Az, and I'm so proud of you for doing so."

A cry of protest slipped from his mouth, Azriel's eyes squeezing shut as he pressed his cheek further into your comforting hand. Voice breaking as he spoke, "They wouldn't have touched you if I was here."

"It was bound to happen eventually" you truthfully stated, "At least I was fortunate enough to keep mine, others aren't so lucky."

Azriel inhaled sharply, pulling you into a soft hug, careful not to disturb your fragile wings, "That doesn't make this any less right."

"No" you agreed, nuzzling deeper into Azriel's chest. His familiar scent a welcoming reminder that you were safe. No one could hurt you again, not whilst you were in Azriel’s arms. Content to stay in his embrace forever, you spoke, "But I have you, and that's all I need for now."

"I'll get you out of here" Azriel promised, loosening his hold on you just enough to allow his serious eyes to meet your own, "I don't know when. Or where we'll go. But I'll get you out. We’ll never have to see this damn camp again.”

"Together?" you asked, needing reassurance that you wouldn't have to face your uncertain future alone.

"Together" Azriel smiled.

~~~

"Stop peeking!" Azriel chided, unable to stop the smile of contentment which spread across his lips as you giggled at the sensation of his warm breath tickling the skin of your neck.

"I'm not!" you promised, chuckling as Azriel's palm moved to better cover your lightly closed eyes.

The shadowsinger hummed in disagreement, his free hand coming to curl around your stomach. Pulling you closer into his chest as he led you deeper into the forest.

"You're going to make me fall" you warned with a laugh, stumbling as Azriel's legs bumped against your own. The male's arms moving to hold you tighter still, soft lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "So long as you're in my arms, I will never let you fall."

Thankful that Azriel couldn't see your rising blush, you allowed him to walk you towards whatever surprise he had planned. Satisfied the shadowsinger would keep you safe, you tightly squeezed your eyes shut.

Putting your trust into the males loving hands.

You needn't walk much further, Azriel gently pulling you to a stop as the warmth of the evening breeze began to kiss your cheeks. The heat of the setting sun working to banish the chill that had settled in your bones as you moved through the shadowed forest.

"Ok angel," Azriel purred, the hand covering your face moving to your shoulder as he placed a swift kiss upon your temple, "take a look."

Your eyes fluttered open, squinting as the amber glow of the evening flooded into your vision. Heart pleasantly aching at the view that greeted you once your gaze came into focus.

"It's beautiful Az" you softly gasped, mouth parting in awe as you took in the picturesque scene before you. The slowly setting sun, inching ever closer towards the horizon. The ghostly silhouette of the towering mountains in the distance. The woolen blanket, carefully laid across the ground before you.

"It is" Azriel answered, tender eyes never leaving your delicate features.

Reluctantly tearing your gaze from the breathtaking view, you turned back to Azriel with a crease between your brows, "But why? . . . I've not forgotten something important have I?"

"No, not at all. I just wanted to do something nice for you" Azriel reassured. His hands moving to gently cup your cheeks in order to pull your loving eyes to meet his own. But you didn't fail to miss the rising pool of sadness which swam amongst his affectionate gaze.

"What is it?" you asked, your once peaceful expression now morphing into one of worry, "What's wrong?"

A low sigh fell from the male's lips, Azriel's forehead gingerly coming to rest against yours, "I've been given my orders, the High Lord asked for me himself. . . I am to leave tomorrow."

Your heart sank, mouth growing dry upon the realization that this would be your last night together for a while. But this was what Azriel had always dreamed of, having a purpose. Having worth. And so you would not allow yourself to be selfish and ruin that dream.

"T-that's great Az" you exclaimed, forcing a proud smile onto your lips, "You've worked so hard for this."

"But you-" Azriel contested, ever the selfless Illyrian.

"Will still be here when you return" you reassured him, moving to place a sweet kiss onto his forehead.

Azriel's eyes softly closed at your gesture, a shaky breath drawing from his lips before he quietly spoke, your heart aching at his solemn words, "I just wish we had more time."

"We have time now" you soothed, blinking away your tears before taking Azriel's hand into your own, gently pulling him towards the waiting blanket, "Let this night be our forever."

There, wrapped in Azriel's embrace, the two of you sat and talked as though you had all the time in the world. Because there, sat within the comfort of his arms, the fading amber of the setting sun before you, it felt as though you did.

"Azriel?" you quietly ask once the conversation had dwindled into a peaceful silence.

"Hmm?" he replied, hazel eyes sweeping over your face in question. His hand moving to lovingly tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"Kiss me."

Wordlessly, Azriel brought his thumb to slowly brush across your lip. Hooded gaze growing dark as a radiant smile crossed his face. Leaning in to huskily whisper in your ear, "How lucky I am, to have been blessed by an angel as beautiful as you."

And then his lips crashed to yours.

It was a heated battle of tongues and teeth. Azriel biting back a groan at the softness of your lips as they worked against his own. Your intoxicating scent delectably filling his senses until Azriel's thoughts were consumed only by you.

Moving to sit in his lap, you desperately pulled at the top of his leathers. Azriel aiding you in removing the item before your warm hands instantly moved to explore the vast expanse of his muscular chest. Mouth coming back to meet his own as you playfully nipped at the shadowsinger's lips, eliciting a soft whimper from the male who found himself entirely at your mercy.

Skirt bunching at your hips, you broke the kiss to slip your dress from your body. Nipples pebbling as the cool evening air hit your breasts. Azriel's hands froze, hovering over the curves of your waist, lustful gaze turning hesitant as his touch shied from your unblemished skin.

Seeking to quell his hesitance, you brought your hands to meet his own, lightly kissing the scarred flesh before whispering a soft truth, "You're perfect, Az." Hips moving to grind against his hardening member as you reiterated, "Every last inch of you is perfect."

Slowly, you raised Azriel's tense hands to rest against your breasts, the supple skin working to ease his trembling until the dark cloud of desire pooled in his eyes once more. His once stiff fingers relaxing as they began to work your breasts, the male smiling softly as cries of pleasure began to spill from your lips.

Unable to help the way your hips were bucking in desperation, you moved to unlace Azriel's pants as his swollen lips came to gently suck the sensitive skin of your neck, tongue working to trail over each of the purple marks left behind. A low groan escaping from his mouth as you pulled his aching cock from his leathers, twitching as you moved to wrap your hand around his length.

Azriel's hands flew to your waist as he made to flip you over. However, unwilling to hand over your control so easily, your firm hands moved to keep him beneath you. The smoky tendrils of his shadows creeping in to hold their master in place.

Eyebrows knitting together in protest, Azriel made to argue. Yet your teasing words beat him to it, "Poor Illyrian baby." Hand coming to rest on the center of his chest, you languidly rolled your hips against his leaking cock, "Relax, Azriel. Let me take care of you."

Moaning at the sound of his name on your lips, Azriel settled with placing his hands on your hips. The shadowsinger lifting you up in order to allow the head of his cock to slip between your soaking folds.

Inhaling deeply, you lower yourself onto him. Your soft whimper meeting Azriel's guttural cry as you sunk until he was fully sheathed inside of you. Allowing you the time to adjust, Azriel placed sweet kisses along your collarbones. Whispers of how perfect your heat felt wrapped around his cock tumbled from his lips, distracting you from the twinge of pain which had risen from the unfamiliar stretch.

Only when the ache had subsided, and your desire for more had become all too overwhelming, did you then move your hands to Azriel's shoulders. Clutching onto the shadowsinger for support as you began to move. Slowly raising your hips before sinking back down onto his cock once more.

It didn't take the two of you long to find a pleasurable rhythm.

Azriel's bruising grip on your waist working to pull your body down in time to meet his forceful thrusts. Incoherent mumblings of pleasure slipping from your lips as Azriel fucked you with a brutal pace.

It was only when you were nearing your high, and you wanted Azriel to ride the wave of pleasure alongside you, did you stretch your hand out to rake a teasing finger along the sensitive membrane of his wing. Azriel's cock pulsating inside of you as the male stilled, a strangled shout falling from his mouth at your action.

Pleased with the male's reaction, you repeated the motion, nail brushing against his twitching wings once more. A low growl rumbled in Azriel's chest, eyes blown black as he moved to flip the two of you over. Your own wings stretching out in order to allow you to comfortably lie on your back.

Azriel's cock never leaving your heat for a moment as he continued his unforgiving pace. Stars blurring your vision as his relentless pounding pulled you nearer and nearer to completion.

And then the wave crashed over you, vision turning white as a scream of pleasure tore from your lips. Azriel continuing his merciless thrusts as he chased after his own high, hands falling to your hips to try and steady your spasming body.

It wasn’t long after that Azriel followed suit, thrusts faltering as he came with a hoarse groan. The male exhaling a soft sigh of satisfaction as he withdrew himself from your core, arms caging your body as he rolled over in order to pull you on top of his chest.

Panting, Azriel raised a hand to brush the stray wisps of hair from your face. Eyes blowing wide with realization as he found himself unable to stop the words which fell from his lips next, "I love you."

Your breath caught in your throat, teary gaze looking to Azriel as your lips parted wordlessly. You had waited years for this, to hear the words you thought you would never be fortunate enough to hear. And now the moment had come you found yourself utterly incapable of expressing the undying devotion you felt for the male in front of you.

"I love you" Azriel repeated, unphased by your lack of an immediate answer, "I always have, from that very first day. All it took was one look and I knew you were it for me."

Tears welling in his hazel eyes, Azriel takes in a shaky breath before he continues, "I love you like the sun loves the moon. So much so that I would die every night, so only to let you breathe."

A sob escaped from your lips, your hand moving to rest against Azriel's cheek in order to allow your thumb to gently catch each falling tear. "Shadows" you corrected with a small smile, Azriel's expression morphing into one of confusion, "I love you like the sun loves the shadows. That I would give up my light, so only to see you dance."

Softly, you brought your lips to his. And even with the smallest of kisses, you were able to show the eternal nature of your love.

"I don't want to go" Azriel weakly cried, his words bringing you back to the unfair reality you had been dealt.

It was your turn to lovingly brush his dark hair back, matching tears falling down your own cheeks as you answered, "It's not forever. We'll see each other again."

"I'll come say goodbye tomorrow morning" he promised, sorrowful voice cracking as he spoke.

"No goodbyes, Az" you said with a bittersweet smile, moving to rest your head against his chest in order to savor your remaining time together.

As you watched the night crawl in, and the warm hues of the day had long since melted into the inky darkness; you wondered if the sun yearns for the comfort of night. In the same way you yearned for the comfort of his shadows.

~~~

Azriel's absence took a toll on you.

Your joy-filled days once spent in his company were now long forgotten as the mundane reality of life without the shadowsinger had finally come to pass.

It was as though Azriel had taken all the warmth with him when he left. The absent presence of his comforting embrace allowing the bitter chill of Windhaven to permanently settle into the marrow of your bones.

The arrival of each new month a cruel reminder that you had been left behind. Spite festering within your heart upon realization that your fate, alongside that of every other female's here, was forever bound to the camp.

Yet the dark clouds brewing overhead signaled a change in the wind.

War was coming to Prythian.

Whispers of skirmishes arising between the faeries and the mortals travelled like wildfire throughout the camp. All eyes warily looking up to the approaching storm which was steadily growing above the shadowed mountains of Illyria.

It was the males who left first, called to action by their High Lord.

You watched them leave through your frosted window, wondering if Azriel would be waiting for them at their final destination. Pondering what life would have in store for them now that they were free from the burdensome shackles of the prisonous camp. Ultimately knowing that they would fare no better in the future that awaited them at the frontlines.

The next sign that the war had finally arrived was the diminishing supplies. Even miles away from the nearest frontier, the conflict didn't leave Windhaven untouched.

Wartime Illyria was not a place for luxuries. Materials were growing scarce and food even more so, all your valuable recourses having been sent to the warriors in the mortal lands. Your father growing increasingly insufferable as his forced sobriety from the rationed drinks plagued him like an unquenchable thirst.

And then a stranger arrived at your camp.

A male from Dawn, skilled in the art of medicine, seeking aid in healing the countless victims left wounded from the violet acts of war.

Unsurprisingly, the hostile inhabitants of Windhaven all turned their noses up at his cry for help, unwilling to risk their lives on the battlefield for the sake of another's. Yet to you, the call for aid was a blessing. An invitation for you to do the one thing you've always wanted to.

Leave.

So for once in your life you allowed yourself to be selfish.

You didn't think about whether Azriel would return for you - far too many years had passed for you to still think that was a possibility. You didn't even think about your hopeless father, who without your help would surely succumb to his toxic lifestyle.

You only thought about the little girl who used to dream of seeing the world. Bright-eyed and unbroken as she spent her days wishing for someone to come and save her from the iron cage she called her home.

But no one was coming for you, you understood that now.

And so, longing to make a name for yourself in a kinder world, you answered the call.

Walking away from Windhaven without so much as a glance at the life you were leaving behind.

~~~

Azriel was dreaming again.

Dreaming of you.

Of moonlit encounters and sun-kissed embraces.

Glowing smiles and heated kisses.

And at the center of it all, you.

Yet when he wakes the sheets are cold and bare.

But the ghost of you never strays far from Azriel's mind.

~~~

His mornings always started the same.

Azriel rudely torn from his sweetened dreams by the coming of a new day. Chest unnaturally empty as he gathered the will to crawl out from the security of his sheets.

A stranger in his own home, he drifts downstairs.

Spending breakfast alongside the beaming faces of his brothers and their equally contented mates. The shadowsinger a silent observer of their animated conversations, only ever sparing a grunt of acknowledgement whenever the discussion turned his way.

Their gleeful smiles a glaring reminder to Azriel that he still hadn't found the missing piece of his soul. Tender heart aching as he longed to find the same overwhelming sense of happiness that his family shared around him. Unaware of his brother's concerned stares as they watched him slowly turn into a shell of the male he used to be.

Their worry growing, as with each passing day Azriel became more and more like one of his shadows.

Silent and unyielding.

Yet Azriel found himself helpless when it came to fighting the crushing feeling that he was to forever remain alone. Unable to sit there and watch his friends fall in love without wondering why the cauldron hadn't dealt him the same blessed fate.

Your haunting presence never failing to return to the forefront of his mind as Azriel feared that his first love was also bound to be his last.

~~~

Wallowing seemed to be Azriel's new favourite past time.

Even in the company of his friends and family, the shadowsinger failed to ever truly let the lines of his smile meet his eyes. Mind numb and heart aching, Azriel's increasingly glum attitude did not make for the most pleasant of companies.

Yet, unable to sit around as her friend slowly became half the male he used to be, Feyre decided that she wouldn't allow the Illyrian to pull away without putting up a fight. Adamant that the Azriel she used to know was simply hidden away, the Lady of Night wondered if perhaps the soothing touch of a woman was all that the male needed in order for his depressive episode to lift.

And so, having ignored Rhysand's warnings that trying to force love onto the shadowsinger would be a bad idea, Feyre began her master plan.

She started small.

Testing the waters by suggesting to Azriel that it would be nice for him to step into Velaris's dating scene. Casually mentioning that a friend of hers was looking for a partner and she thought the pair of them would be well-matched.

Much to her dismay, her efforts were met with no result, Azriel's gruff reply being a crude remark that if her friend were so desperate for a partner then she may have better luck searching in a brothel.

However, not one to give up so easily, Feyre persisted.

Each passing day bringing about new opportunities for her to share the news of a potential love interest that she believes the male should indulge in.

In the beginning, Azriel found amusement in Feyre periodically showing up at his door. He'd even feign interest as the female listed off the attributes of yet another young maiden she claimed would be perfect for him. Smiling along encouragingly as she spoke before ultimately shutting his door in her face.

But what the male hadn't predicted, was just how far Feyre would go in order to secure the happiness of her friend.

Determined that Azriel would find love so only he tried, the High Lady had neglected to tell the shadowsinger about his evening plans until the hour of his date was already upon him.

Feyre merrily bouncing on her heels as she broke the news to the male, excitable grin plastered across her lips as she waited in bated anticipation for Azriel's appreciative reaction.

But it never came.

Instead, Azriel's face turned deathly pale as his eyes briefly flickered over to the young woman standing besides Feyre, a shy smile gracing her face as she waited for the shadowsinger to greet her.

"What is this?" Azriel asked roughly. Taking the time to swallow the rising storm of anger which had settled on his tongue, the male well aware that Feyre's friend was just an innocent victim in the Lady of Night's game.

"This is your date, Az" Feyre said encouragingly, "It's time to put yourself out there."

The thundering whispers of his shadows were impossible to ignore.

Not her, they cried into his ears. Not her.

Azriel willed himself a stretched smile, chest tight and breathing difficult as he turned to Feyre's friend, "I apologize miss, my High Lady has chosen to lead you here under false pretenses, I'm not looking for a partner. Please allow me to walk you home."

Feyre's face fell in dejection, lips parted in surprise as her bewildered gaze fell upon Azriel's unrevealing expression, "But . . . I thought-"

"You thought wrong," Azriel interjected, hurt shining through his furious stare, "We'll discuss you and your thoughts once I've taken your friend home."

Feyre was still there upon Azriel's return, her face a picture of fury as the male walked through the door, "What was that?"

"What was that?" Azriel scoffed, his booming voice echoing against the hollow walls of the house's entryway, "What the fuck were you thinking Feyre?"

The female shrunk under Azriel's burning gaze, ears turning red with embarrassment as she quietly answered, "I was just trying to help. . . I thought you wanted to find love."

"I had love!" Azriel shouted in response. His outburst enough to have gathered Rhysand's attention as the High Lord winnowed into the room, rushing towards his teary mate's side.

"I had love" Azriel repeated lowly, voice cracking as he spoke, "And look how well that turned out for me."

"That's not Feyre's fault Az" Rhysand answered in defense of his mate, tone calm and steady as he worked to ebb away his brother's rising anger, "She didn't know."

"No, she didn't" Azriel replied solemnly, accusatory stare turning to the High Lord, "But you did and yet you still let her do it. . . But it's fine! Let's all play with Azriel's heart because we need some entertainment."

Rhysand's mouth dropped open, failing to find an answer that his brother deserves to hear. A cold laugh of disbelief fell from Azriel's lips, the male shaking his head as he began to walk away, "You know why I can't move on Rhys. Why I never will."

It was in that moment, whilst Rhysand watched Azriel's retreating figure, did the male then realize what all this was about. That it wasn't love that Azriel had been searching for all these years; it was you.

~~~

He came at night.

The firelight cowering in his presence.

Its amber flames licking at the darkness which had arrived alongside him. Those familiar violet eyes twinkling through the shadows as your High Lord slowly stepped into the light.

"My, my" Rhysand crooned, lips pulling into a cheshire smile, "You are a difficult woman to find."

"Rhys?" you ask in disbelief, resisting the urge to pinch yourself. Afraid of waking up from whatever strange dream your mind had conjured, "What are you doing here?"

"What I should have done centuries ago. . ." Rhysand answered, his charming smile failing to hide the worry which danced in his telling eyes, "I'm taking you home."

~~~

Azriel had grown up listening to the tales of men who claimed to have seen the Mother.

Their stories full of mighty wonder as they spoke of a being so perfect that her beauty alone was enough to drive even the strongest of males to the brink of insanity.

He had never believed them of course. Having laughed at their foggy eyes and lovesick expressions, believing their drunken words to have been no more than what they were. Fairytales.

But there you were.

Smile just as warm as he remembered, features just as soft.

Standing there in ethereal beauty as you waited for the shadowsinger to approach. Yet all Azriel could do was stare, wordless mouth parted in shock as the realization dawned on him that this was the closest he would ever get to seeing the Mother herself.

Azriel's hand flew to his chest. Never having imagined that after all this time your beauty would still have the power to disarm him just as it had done the day you first met. Unable to stop the cry of joy which fell from his lips as his dormant heart sparked to life. Eyes closing in relief as he felt the familiar comfort of its rhythmic pounding once more.

His love reborn as your two souls reunited once more.

"Hi Az" you beam, hand coming to rest against his tear-stained cheek, your voice coaxing the trembling male to open his hazel eyes, "I've missed you."

Stunned speechless, all Azriel could do was cry.

Weeping as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, the two of you sinking to the floor as he fell into the comfort of your loving embrace. The recognizable scent of your sweet aroma finally spurring his words into existence, "I came back for you."

You inhaled sharply at his words, pulling away from the hug in order to meet his sincere gaze. "After the war" he explained, stumbling over his words in an attempt to get them out, "I wanted to bring you to Velaris. . . But you weren't there. They told me that you were gone, that you were never coming back."

Hushing the male you moved his head to rest against your chest, running your fingers through his dark hair in attempt to calm him. Your own tears running down your face at the realization that Azriel had come back for you.

That he hadn't forgotten you.

"I'm here now" you promised softly, gently placing a kiss atop of the shadowsinger's head, "And I'm not going anywhere-"

You barely managed to get the words out before Azriel's lips crashed onto yours. Whimpering at the familiar sensation of his soft lips against your own. Five hundred years, that's how long you had yearned for this. For his mouth, his touch, his warmth.

Azriel pulled away, lifting his hands to your face in order to wipe away the stay tears which remained. "I love you" he blurted, hazel eyes sparking with life as he said the words, "cauldron I love you."

An overjoyed laugh tumbled from your lips, your tender smile wide as you listened to what Azriel had to say.

"No more waiting" Azriel begged, "I've already wasted five hundred years that should have been spent by your side. But not anymore. . . I'll spend the next five hundred years telling you just how much I love you. . . So long as you still want me that is, if there isn't anyone else."

"Want you?" you asked in surprise, "I'm already yours Az, I always have been. So just as they were the first, let your lips be the last to ever kiss mine. Because you're it for me Az, there is no one else."

You didn't need to ask again, Azriel bringing his lips to meet yours once more. Taking his time to pour all of his love into the action before pulling away to whisper a promise against your parted lips, "I'll never leave you again, not as long as I live."

"I won't let you" you answer, pulling the male into another crushing hug, "I'm never letting go of you again."

It was there, wrapped within your embrace on the floor of his home, that Azriel finally allowed himself to believe that everything was going be ok. Because how could it not be when his happiness had finally returned. The shadowsinger safe with the knowledge that at the end of the night, the sun will rise.

[leilanihours]

# I'LL DO ANYTHING YOU SAY IF YOU SAY IT WITH YOUR HANDS

pairing: paige bueckers x reader

word count: 642

warnings: none !

summary: sleepy paige doesn't want you (her favorite pillow) to leave.

⭑ from lani: heres a super duper short fluffy blurb before i drop "imgonnagetyouback" tmr ! also this was not proofread so it might suck a bit..

masterlist !

THE WARM SPRING sun spills into your room, hugging you and your girlfriend as you lay entangled underneath your white comforter. paige's off-season has been treating you both so well.

with finals being over and graduation right around the corner, the two of you finally have a breath to relax and truly focus on each other.

you've been spending countless hours together, some of your friends commenting that they miss your appearances at their casual hangouts. regardless, you and paige have been all over each other, savoring the calm before the inevitable storm that is graduating.

when paige announced her decision to stay at uconn for a fifth year, it rocked everyone's worlds, including your own. not only did this mean that both of you would be separated, but it meant that you would have to leave her. the stressful thought has been stuck in your mind, and it is currently what keeps you from falling back asleep in the early hours of the morning.

anyone with eyes could see how much you truly loved each other. whether paige is picking up coffee for you in the middle of the night or you're rebounding for her as she practices on weekends, your relationship has never been so rich in affection.

but of course, there's nothing you love more than having your arms wrapped around your favorite person. gazing down at paige, you observe her soft features illuminated by the sun peeking through your blinds. her smooth skin, slightly pink cheeks, and fluttering eyelashes all adding up to make her undeniably beautiful profile.

gently, you place a kiss on her forehead and begin to slowly twist out from under her. she stirs from the sudden movement, snuggling even further into your frame.

"paige," you whisper.

"mm.." she mumbles, still fast asleep in your chest.

“i have to get up, baby.”

“no you don’t.”

“how do you know that?” you tease.

“because you belong in this bed, with me, sleeping,” she replies in a raspy voice, still not fully awake.

“i have to meet up with nika.”

“cancel on her.”

“sorry?” you laugh.

“y’heard me,” she says, adjusting her position so that she’s now fully on top of you.

“paige.”

“hi.”

“you gotta let me up, babe.”

“but i’m so comfortable. you’re so comfortable. so warm and soft. like a pillow,” she breathes in your scent and sighs in content, bearing the most adorable sleepy smile. she’s practically drunk on sleep - on you.

“c’mon, i’ve already canceled on her once,” you beg, “she’s gonna hate me and you if i cancel again.” 

after a beat of silence you tilt your head down only to be met with paige being knocked out again. you wrap your arms around her large frame as you roll the both of you to the empty side of the bed. now paige is underneath you, giving you the perfect escape route. you carefully retract your arms and sit up to head to the bathroom.

you failed.

“where do you think you’re goin?” the blonde’s arms are secure around yours, preventing you from moving at all.

“paige.”

“hi.”

“nope, i’m not doing this again.”

“then just stay here.”

“paige-“

“please?” you falter as her cold hands work their way under your hoodie, softly rubbing your bare back. you release a deep breath as you feel her hands begin to massage your shoulders gently, closing your eyes from the feeling.

“hand me my phone, will you, babe?”

she removes one of her hands from your skin to reach for your phone on the bedside table. she hands it to you with a confused look on her face as you raise your head from her chest to scroll through your contacts.

“hey nika? i’m gonna have to move our hike to tomorrow morning,” you feel paige squeeze your shoulders at this, “maybe next week.”

— leilani signing off ! 📁

[rosesareredrosa]

There's a Difference

Mattheo Riddle x fem reader

Summary: Mattheo thinks he is not worth it and thinks he will hurt y/n because of his past but y/n doesn't think so shes ready to take a risk

w/c: 924

You shouldn’t love me.

Mattheo’s voice was laced with a mix of defiance and resignation as he spoke the words that had been haunting him for weeks. The dim light from the torches cast flickering shadows across his face, accentuating the hard edges of his jaw and the turmoil in his dark eyes. He stood just a few feet away from you, his usual confidence faltering as he forced himself to look away.

You crossed your arms, refusing to let him slip away so easily. “Well, why not?”

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder as if he could find an escape route hidden in the stone walls of the Hogwarts corridor. The silence stretched, thick with the weight of everything unsaid, before he finally turned his attention back to you. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, one that he rarely let anyone see.

“I’m not worth it,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “All I’m going to end up doing is hurting you.”

You could hear the sincerity in his words, the fear that drove them. But you weren’t one to be easily scared off, especially not by Mattheo Riddle. The boy who was always so confident, so untouchable, now stood before you with all his walls down. You took a step closer, refusing to let him push you away.

“Is that a promise,” you challenged, “or are you just afraid?”

The question hung in the air between you, daring him to confront the truth he was trying so hard to deny. Mattheo’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides as he struggled with the emotions he usually kept locked away. No one had ever called him out like this before. He was used to people either fearing him or idolizing him, but you… you were different. You saw right through his carefully constructed facade, and that terrified him more than anything.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he finally confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “But that’s all I know how to do. It’s in my blood, Y/N. It’s who I am.”

You shook your head, refusing to accept that as the end of the conversation. “That’s not who you are, Mattheo. It’s who you think you have to be. There’s a difference.”

His eyes searched yours, looking for some sign that you understood the darkness he carried, that you knew what you were getting yourself into. “You don’t know what you’re saying. My father… the things I’ve seen… the things I’ve done…”

You took another step closer, until you were standing directly in front of him, your eyes locked onto his. “I know who you are, Mattheo. I see the way you fight against what you think you have to be. I see the good in you, even if you don’t.”

His breath hitched, the walls he had spent years building up around his heart beginning to crumble under the intensity of your gaze. For a moment, he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, you were right. But then the fear crept back in, reminding him of all the reasons why he had to keep you at arm’s length.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice shaking, “I can’t let you get close. If something happened to you because of me…”

You reached up, gently cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I’m not afraid of you, Mattheo. I’m not afraid of what could happen. What scares me is the thought of you shutting me out, of you letting your fear dictate your life.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch as if drawing strength from your words. “You’re crazy,” he muttered, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Maybe,” you replied softly, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “Or maybe I just see something worth fighting for.”

Mattheo’s eyes fluttered open, and in that moment, the battle within him finally reached its peak. He could keep fighting against his feelings, pushing you away until you had no choice but to give up on him, or he could take the risk and let himself be vulnerable, let himself love you the way he so desperately wanted to.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Mattheo closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and fierce, as if he was pouring all of his fear, his hope, his love into that single moment. You responded immediately, your hands sliding to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as if you could hold him together by sheer force of will.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, but the tension that had been hanging over you was gone, replaced by a sense of calm that neither of you had expected.

“I can’t promise I won’t hurt you,” Mattheo said quietly, his forehead resting against yours.

You smiled, your heart swelling with a fierce determination. “Then we’ll hurt each other. But we’ll also heal together.”

He let out a shaky breath, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close as if afraid you might disappear if he let go. “You’re too good for me,” he whispered.

“Maybe,” you teased, a smile playing on your lips. “But you’re stuck with me now.”

Mattheo chuckled, the sound rich and warm, and for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he was worth it after all.

[sturniluvr]

Love in the sun

Lando Norris x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

warnings: none other than a few mentions of children (if you don’t like kids😭) possible spelling mistakes(?)

summary: Lando and Y/N go on holiday together during the summer break and come home engaged.

A/N: Keep in mind throughout that I have no idea how the luxury life works im broke asf so it may be inaccurate😭and sorry for quite a few time skips I had a bit of writers block😭

❗️semi proof read❗️

Y/N and Lando were currently halfway through their flight en route to Mykonos for a week while Lando had the summer break. The couple had a few things pre planned for the week in Greece such as a party boat they had booked prior to the holiday and Y/N was hoping for no more injuries on Lando's end after the incident in Amsterdam and going to a few tourist attractions, but they mostly just wanted to spend time with each other, they didn’t care what they were doing as long as they were together, and of course they were staying with Hilton as the couple always had the best experiences with Hilton hotels and being a sponsor of McLaren, it was only right they chose Hilton. 

Lando was scrolling on his phone and he felt a weight on his shoulder, he looked to his side and saw his girlfriend asleep on his shoulder. The love of his life, his best friend, his girl and hopefully, soon, his wife. She had been by his side since before he made it into f1, he remembers vividly how excited she was when he told her he was offered a seat with McLaren, she seemed more excited than he was, and she hadn’t left his side since. He smiled at the memory. He had a whole plan set in place to propose to Y/N, he couldn’t wait to propose to her, he had brought the ring around 2 years into the relationship when he was out with Max and he saw the perfect ring that just screamed Y/N to him and he’d just been waiting for the perfect moment, which was this holiday and also their 5 year anniversary. 

time skip to landing

Lando was looking out the window in his own world when he heard the pilot over the intercom. 

“Mr Norris, we will be starting descent in Mykonos in about 10 minutes so please get ready to fasten your seatbelt sir.” On cue, he saw the little seatbelt light come on above his head. He gently shook Y/N to wake her up. 

“Darling, we’ll be landing soon, you need to put your seatbelt on.” He spoke quietly as he knows she doesn’t like loud noises when she first wakes up. She stirs and slowly opens her eyes and lifted her head off Lando’s shoulder. Lando looked at her with a soft smile and a little chuckle escaped his lips at the sight of the woman’s messy hair.  

“Hey sleepy head, pilot just said to put our belts on we’ll be descending soon.” She nodded at him as she fixed her hair and put her belt on, Lando doing the same next to her. 

As they got closer to the ground, Y/N grabbed hold on Lando’s hand to comfort herself as landing was probably her least favourite part of flying and he rubbed her knuckles in a comforting manner. 

After landing, they grabbed their luggage and made their way to the chauffeur who led them to the car provided by Hilton to take them to the hotel.  

small time skip cus I’m lazy

They arrived to their room in the hotel and unpacked their suitcases and got changed into some clothes more suited to the warm climate of the island they were on for the next two weeks as they had an early flight and when the couple arrived it was only early afternoon After changing, Y/N and Lando left the hotel and went for a small walk around the town and get anything little essentials they may need while on holiday like bottles of water, snacks for the hotel room etc. 

“Don’t forget we need to buy sunscreen aswel, since somebody left it behind being the clever clogs he is.” Y/N said, giving Lando a cheeky smile.  

“Ha Ha, very funny cheeky.” Lando replied sarcastically, pinching her side softly. The couple laughed as they continued to walk in and out of shops and buy the essentials. 

Later on that day, Y/N was relaxing on a sunbed reading her book and Lando was next to her on another sunbed with his hat over his eyes. About half hour later, Y/N was now lying on her stomach so she could tan her back aswel as her front and she felt a pair of hands smack her bum. She looked behind to see her boyfriend with a boyish smile on his face, she smiled back at him and rolled her eyes jokingly at his actions. 

“Do you want another drink baby? I'm going to the bar.” Lando stated and she nodded. 

“Same again please Lan, I'm going to head up to the room for a little siesta, it’s getting pretty warm out here.” He nodded in understanding knowing how easily the heat got to her sometimes, that’s why he always made sure she was well hydrated and was taking care of herself. 

“Okay baby, I’ll grab our drinks and I’ll come up aswel and have a quick shower or something.” She nodded at her boyfriend before he left to go get their drinks from the bar. She packed up everything she had brought down to the pool with her and made her way into the hotel and up to their room. 

couple days later

Y/N was relaxing on the balcony of the hotel room while waiting for Lando to get back, he’d told her he was going out to get some more water for the room when in reality he was sat in the hotel reception talking on the phone to the manager of the restaurant he was planning to take Y/N to on the last day of the holiday, their anniversary, to finalise any details about the proposal and the booking details.  

“So, you’ll tell her you’re going to the bathroom and one of our waiters will lead her out to the beach? Is that correct Mr Norris?” the manager asked Lando over the phone.

“Yes, that is correct. Thank you again for helping me with this. It means a lot.” Lando replied, the manager smiled at the idea of young love.

“It's quite alright sir. Right, that's all booked and ready for you for a few days' time.” 

Once everything was finalised, he thanked the manager and hung up the phone and left the hotel with a small smile on his face at the thought of him proposing to the love of his life in the next couple days and made his way to the little shop 10 minutes from the hotel and grabbed the bottles of water like he had told Y/N he was doing. 

He walked back to the hotel and into the hotel room where he was met with the sight of Y/N asleep on the sofa in the living area with the balcony door open to let a breeze in and her book covering her face. He smiled in amusement and put the crate of water bottles down and he made his way over to the sofa. He crouched down in front of her and took her book from off her face, keeping his thumb on the page so she wouldn’t lose her page and quickly put her bookmark in place before closing it. He gently shook her awake.  

“Wake up sleepy head. We need to go downstairs for lunch soon.” She opened her eyes lazily and looked at Lando with a sleepy smile which he returned with a smile of his own. She slowly sat up and picked up her half drunk bottle of water off the table in front of her. 

“Hey pretty girl, the sun tired you out huh?” He joked, stroking her thigh. She nodded softly before speaking. 

“Yeah, and it didn’t help next door had a crying baby and I couldn’t focus on my book, so I just came inside.” Lando chuckled at her response.  

“We’ll be heading down for lunch in a minute if you wanna go freshen up a bit beforehand.” The curly haired boy spoke, Y/N nodded and made her way to their bedroom to put a clean top on as she had some sweat stains that didn’t look flattering at all and touched up the small amount of makeup she had on which consisted of just concealer, mascara and some lip balm. 

The couple both headed down to lunch, indulging in conversation about the most random topics causing them both to start laughing. The couple were suddenly interrupted by a little girl, who looked no older than 5 and had a little bunny stuffed animal in her arms, who came up to them and tapped Y/N’s arm softly. 

“Excuse me miss, can you help me find my mummy. I was with her and my older brother and now I can’t find them.” The older woman’s eyes softened at the sight of the tears in the little girl's eyes. She nodded at her. 

“Of course, sweetheart. What’s your name?” Y/N spoke in a gentle tone. 

“Emily, I’m sorry for interrupting you two, but I recognised Lando because Jack my brother is a formula one fan and I’ve seen him on tv, so I thought you two seemed safe rather than a complete stranger.” Emily admitted shyly, Lando nodded at her with a smile before the couple stood up to help her find her brother and mum. 

“You did the right thing sweetie. C’mon we’ll help you find your mum” Lando spoke, he held the little girl's small hand in his and the three of them made their way over to the front desk at reception. 

“Excuse me, this little girl has lost her mum. Do you have any idea where she could be?” Y/N asked the lady on the front desk. She nodded and made her way around to the front of the desk so she could talk to Emily. 

“What does your mum look like sweetheart?” She asked as she crouched down to her size. 

“Brown hair, green eyes, she had a long blue dress on, she was with my older brother who was wearing red swim shorts and a Minecraft t-shirt” the receptionist nodded at her. All of a sudden, they heard the voice of a woman, Y/N looked up to see a woman matching Emily’s description of her mother.  

“Emily! There you are baby!” She ran over and gave her a quick hug. Emily pointed to the three other adults before she spoke to her mum.

“The helped me mummy. Lando and his girlfriend helped me find you and the nice lady on reception!” Emily walked over to Y/N and gave her a hug which Y/N reciprocated. 

“Thank you.” Emily muttered smiling up at the couple. They both smiled at her. 

“Thank you for helping my daughter, we were so worried!” Her mum exclaimed.  

“It’s fine honestly! I can’t imagine how worried I’d be if I’d lost my kid in a resort this big.” She replied, the two women chuckling at her response. Lando looked to Jack and smiled. 

“Hey buddy, I hear you’re a formula one fan? Do you want a photo?” He asked and Jack nodded quickly, the children’s mum pulled out her phone and Jack walked over to Lando and the pair took a photo together. Jack said a quick thank you to the driver before the little family headed off and the couple went to their room to get ready for the party boat they were going on later, which thankfully did not end in any injuries on Lando’s part this time.

 

the last night of the holiday

Tonight was Y/N and Lando’s last night of the holiday, and it was their anniversary. After a morning full of cuddles, kisses, some less PG stuff and exchanging cards and gifts, the couple had spent the rest of the day walking around visiting little landmarks around Mykonos and getting gifts for family members.  

They were now currently getting ready to head out to the Italian restaurant Lando had booked for them. Y/N was wearing a flowy white dress that came down to just below her knees and Lando was wearing a plain white dress shirt and some khaki shorts that Y/N had brought him just before they came to Mykonos. 

“You ready sweetheart?” Lando shouted to Y/N from the bedroom. She walked in and smiled at him. 

“Yup. You ready?” She replied walking into the bedroom smiling at Lando who was sat on the bed. He reached out to her and rested his hands on her waist and pulled her into him, he pulled her down slightly and planted a kiss to her lips. 

“You look stunning baby. An absolute princess if you ask me.” he expressed with a small smirk on his face. She grabbed her bag off the bed and grabbed Lando’s hand and the couple made their way out the hotel and to the restaurant.  

Once they arrived at the restaurant, the waiter took them to their seats and took their orders, coming back shortly after with the drink orders which was some red wine for both of them. When they had their food brought to them around 20 minutes later, they ate their food while talking about anything they could think of. There was never a dull moment with Y/N and Lando’s conversations.

After eating and having paid the bill. Lando was about to put the plan into motion. 

“I’m just gonna head to the bathroom before we leave gorgeous. Won’t be long.” She nodded at Lando, what she didn’t realise was Lando was actually leaving through the back entrance of the restaurant to get to the beach across from the restaurant without Y/N realising. 

Shortly after, the waiter came over to Y/N and held his arm out for her to take. 

“If you’d like to close your eyes and follow me miss.” he requested. She skeptically complied and took his arm as she closed her eyes, and he took her across to the beach where Lando was waiting by the ocean.  

Once she was in front of Lando, he silently thanked the waiter and he left and went back to the restaurant. Lando grabbed Y/N’s hands in his and she took that as a sign to open her eyes and her and Lando were the only ones on the beach and the only sounds was the water crashing onto the sand. Lando began to speak. 

“Y/N, from the moment I made it home after our first date when we were 19, I knew you were the one. You’ve been with me through the ups and downs of not only my life, but my entire career and I could not thank you enough. You experienced my first podium with me and my first win and every other milestone in my career and I’ll forever be grateful to have you by my side for everything. My mum always told me as a kid that when I meet the one, I’d feel it. You’re the one Y/N. You’re my person.” Lando announced. Y/N’s hand flew over her mouth as Lando got down onto one knee and pulled out a red velvet box, opening the box to reveal the most stunning diamond ring, tears were welling in both of the adults’ eyes. 

“Y/N M/N/ L/N, will you make the happiest man ever and marry me?” He spoke with a hint of emotion in his voice. She vigorously nodded her head, tears flowing down her cheeks. 

“Yes Lando! Of course I’ll marry you” she replied. He grinned up at her and placed the ring on her left ring finger as he stood back up, hearing distant claps from people passing by and sat outside the restaurant who had witnessed the proposal. He then cupped her cheeks and pulled her into a passionate kiss full of love. The newly engaged couple pulled out of the kiss and smiled at each other, eyes filled with just as much love as the day they met. 

“I love you so much my darling girl. I can’t wait for you to be my wife.” He grinned ear to ear at his now fiancée.  

“I love you too my love. I can’t wait to be married to you and spend the rest of our lives together.” She replied, smiling back at her fiancé. 

They made their way up the beach, walking along the shore in a comfortable silence. Y/N was first to break the silence. 

“Oh my god I just realised I can now put my Pinterest board to use!” She exclaimed in excitement, clapping her hands together with a beaming smile on her face. Lando let out a laugh at her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and Y/N wrapped her arm around his waist. 

“I knew you’d say that you muppet” Lando joked. She smiled softly up at him. 

“We’re both muppets but we’re each other's muppets.” She corrected the driver. He just smiled at his girl. 

“That we are beautiful, that we are.” He softly chuckled as they continued to walk down the beach. 

Once they got home from Mykonos early the next morning, Y/N and Lando had announced the proposal on social media and rang their families, who were all very happy and excited for the couple. 

y/user

Liked by: landonorris, maxfewtrell, pietra.pilao, mclaren and others

y/user: Mykonos with my favourite human, swipe to the end for a surprise👀 (hint: he’s now completely off the market ladies🤭)

tagged: landonorris

comments:

landonorris: had the best time with you beautiful, love you forever🤍

liked by creator❤️

y/user: right back at you my love. Love you more❤️

pietra.pilao: congratulations you two!! So happy! Love you both🫶🏻

liked by: landonorris, y/user

y/user: thank you p! We love you too🫶🏻

mclaren: congratulations to you both!🧡

liked by: landonorris, y/user

lilyzneimer: omg!! Congrats you guys🤍(I better be your bridesmaid y/n/n😉😂)

liked by: landonorris, y/user, oscarpiastri

y/user: thank you lils! You already know you’re my bridesmaid babe!😉😘

liked by lilyzneimer

load more comments

landonorris

Liked by: mclaren, y/user, oscarpiastri and others

landonorris: Lando Norriz who?😏 here’s to forever with you my darling girl I can’t wait for you to be Mrs Norris🥂I love you endlessly🤍

tagged: y/user

comments:

y/user: I love you my boy🤍can’t wait to be mrs Norris🤍 (and to use my Pinterest board😝)

liked by creator❤️

landonorris: 😭😭😭 I do love you baby😂❤️

oscarpiastri: congrats mate!👏🏻Love you both!🧡 (Y/N and Lily have already been messaging non-stop about dresses😭)

liked by: y/user, landonorris, lilyzneimer

landonorris: thanks osc!🧡 and trust me mate, I know😭

y/user: watch it you pair, lily will be just as bad when you finally grow a pair and propose osc😌😘

lilyzneimer: yes I will😉😘

oscarpiastri: 👀

maxfewtrell: congrats you pair! Lots of love❤️

liked by: y/user, landonorris

landonorris: cheers mate we love you too❤️

user3: omg my parents!!😭🫶🏻also trust Lando to wear a jumper in Mykonos😭

load more comments

🏷️: @allywthsr @idathereader @moonlight-girls-posts @saturnbloom77 @scar-005 @barcelonaloverf1life @shellybee456 @meandjoemama @wellwellwellsposts @charli123456789 @timmy-wife1 @m4rt10ne @tellybearryyyy @hc-dutch @nocoolusernamesavailable-blog @neo-teenkidz @landosgirl97 @promenadewithme

If there’s a line through your name, it wouldn’t let me tag you😭

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

41 / 3k / soap soulmate au, part 10

...

Gaz's bullet slides neatly into the target's head, folding into his frontal cortex, his hypothalamus, and lodging to a satisfying stop in his brain stem.

Your job is done.

Ignoring the radio chatter between Gaz and Price, you slip away from the dead man. Your boots grind blood and broken glass into the carpet as you go. You should vanish before Soap's team can catch up to you. You head for the opposite corner of the mansion. They don’t have eyes there.

You slide the ground floor window open and pull Soap's radio collar from your neck. You’re about to remove the earpiece when it crackles in your ear. It's Ghost's voice.

"They got Johnny."

You pause. Your teammates are rough, but they won’t kill Johnny. Right? They won’t kill a soldier.

"Where is he?" Price's voice crackles back.

"Basement lounge," Ghost mutters. The radio catches shouting voices in the background.

"Can you get to him?" Price asks.

Gunshots crackle through the earpiece. Ghost curses. "Negative, sir. Too many mercs and he's agitatin' 'em as it is. Might be able to fish him out, but I'd need a better vantage point.”

“Is he in immediate danger?”

“Don’t think so.”

"Then keep yourself hidden, Lieutenant. Kyle and I are en route."

Your stomach twists. Price doesn't sound like he plans to negotiate. You switch the radio's to KorTac's frequency. "Horangi, what's going on?"

There's a long pause before he replies, and several other voices echo underneath his. "Where the hell are you? SAS is fucking up our whole job. The cargo is gone."

You force yourself to get a grip on your own cover story even as you slip through the window and drop silently to the ground. Snow squeaks under your boots. "How did he know about the cargo?" you ask, your voice careful and even.

"I don't know. Shit, maybe someone fed him information. Military dogs love their rats." There's a pause. Horangi's voice sounds more distant as he speaks away from the mic. "Oy, shitbag. Who gave you the intel?”

You let out a breath of relief. Johnny will have no choice but to give them your name in exchange for his freedom. You'll be far, far away before your teammates know you're gone. KorTac won't bother with trying to track you down. It'd be a waste of money. Even if they did, you've disappeared before. You know how not to be found.

It’ll be a clean break for you both.

Then Johnny's voice crackles into your ear through Horangi's mic.

"No rat," he says. You hear him smirking, but a snarl edges the bravado in his voice. "Your security's piss-poor."

What? No. Bad, that's bad. Johnny’s playing at taking the blame. Of course he is. He thinks he's protecting you. Stubborn idiot.

Horangi chuckles. “You want to die here? That can be arranged.”

Something under your sternum clenches. This is your fault. You stare down at the fresh snow in front of you. You can still leave. Your plan never involved seeing him again, and it certainly didn't involve helping him if he got his ass in trouble. But you're the one who told him where the hostages were. He's only in the basement lounge because of you.

With Price and Gaz in the way, and with Ghost seeking a higher vantage point, sniper in hand, your teammates don’t know how much trouble they’re in, either.

Goddamn him. Why can’t he just rat you out? Why can’t he just be as heartless as you are?

You turn and retrace your trek back to the mansion. You don't know what you're going to do to avoid the confrontation at hand and make a clean escape, but maybe you'll come up with something on the way.

...

You slip into the lounge behind your teammates. Soap is on his knees, hands ziptied behind his back with the barrel of Horangi's rifle to his head.

Every last one of your squadmates is here. With you, that's a dozen mercenaries. You check the upper corners, the catwalks—Ghost is nowhere to be found. Of course. There'd be no way for Ghost alone to snipe enough of your teammates in one go to pull Johnny out of this mess. Nor is there any alarm you can pull, no authority you can leverage to get your soulmate out of the position you put him in.

You switch your radio frequency back to 141's secure channel. "Ghost, don't shoot. I can talk them down."

But it's Price's voice that echoes back. "Stay put, love. We'll get it sorted."

"Listen to me--"

"You in position, Ghost?" Price asks calmly.

"Affirmative, sir."

"Good. Gaz and I will be there shortly. When I signal, you take out as many as you can. We'll clean up the rest. Until then, stay hidden. We don't need a body count of our own."

You ease your finger off the comm, hands shaking. A fucking bloodbath? That's Price's plan? You think back to how he stared across the interrogation table at you, his eyes crinkling in amusement at the barbs you threw back at him. He'd have killed anyone else.

No, focus. You pull the earpiece out and rip the radio unit, cords and all, away from you. It clatters to the ground. A few of your squadmates glance over. You push your way through them until Horangi's eyes fall on you. Johnny’s do, too, but you refuse to look at him.

"He's obviously military,” you say, pinning Horangi with as severe a look as you can summon. “You can't just kill him. You know what would happen."

Horangi scoffs and looks back down at Soap. "He could be impersonating a soldier for all I know. Besides, military mutts bark." He presses the muzzle of his rifle harder into Soap's skull. "So bark, or I shoot."

"If you let me up right now," Soap growls, "I won't rip your goddamn hands off. How about that?" 

Horangi tuts. "You're in no position to be making threats, mutt. Answer me or I'll shut you up permanently. Who gave you the intel?”

"He's not the only one," you interrupt again, talking fast. "He's... His team. They're looking for him."

Horangi’s gaze rises to you again, a strange look in his eye. You've said too much. "Where have you been?" he asks you with a hard stare.

"With the protectee."

"And where is he now?"

Silence swells between you and him. You feel your teammates' eyes on you now. This is your last chance to walk away. If you do, the path ahead of you will be free and clear. And whatever blood is spilled here in service of this stupid mission will be on your hands.

Soap sees the look on your face. "No, hen, don't--"

"I'm the rat," you say. "I fed him the information. The protectee is dead."

Soap curses and tries to lunge to his feet. Horangi pushes him down with the heel of his boot between his shoulder blades. Soap grunts in pain.

"How interesting," Horangi says. "And why would you do that?"

"Don't listen to her," Soap growls. "She's lyin'."

He's still fighting the cuffs around his wrists. His shoulders jerk with every tug, trying in vain to break the plastic tie. A horrible feeling clutches at his chest. He knows what you're doing, and everything in him rebels against the idea. He's so close to finally having you, so close to saving you from yourself.

He never wanted you to come here. He wanted you safe, far away. The thought of something happening to you is far worse than any of the pain he might have endured if you hadn’t come back for him.

You risk a glance at Soap. He looks stricken. You almost wish you could explain, but it wouldn't make a difference. He should know better. You do your job. That's who you are. Even if it means there’ll be hell to pay.

You force your eyes back to Horangi's. "The bastard deserved it," you say simply.

Horangi scoffs. "Obviously. And we deserve our paychecks.” He watches Soap struggle under his boot. "You know him?"

You glance down at Soap, taken off guard. "He's..."

Soap meets your gaze, his eyes still burning with fire despite the situation. “Hen,” he says. “You are makin’ a mistake.”

Horangi leans onto Soap’s shoulder, pinning him flatter. Soap grunts.

Horangi smirks. “He seems to know you. You know, if it were me, I'd just keep my mouth shut and let him take the blame. That's what he wants, isn't it?” He jabs the barrel of his rifle against Soap’s spine.

Soap’s jaw clenches. He doesn’t take his eyes off you.

"In fact," Horangi muses, "I might be more inclined to believe him than you. Not to mention our employer would be very disappointed to know someone on payroll sabotaged a very well-paying job. I don’t think you’d do that unless you had a good reason.”

You hear your teammates murmur behind you. Horangi is giving you an out. Your teammates will know what you did, but KorTac won't. Plausible deniability brings back the possibility of escape. You're shocked Horangi would offer at all, knowing now what you did.

But you steel yourself. You know what you have to do. "Check his left arm," you tell him.

Horangi examines you, but there's no skepticism in his eyes—only intrigue. He gestures to a few of the mercs behind you. Two push past you. They hold Soap down, and Horangi grabs Soap's cuffed wrists and pushes his sleeve up his arm. It's there plain as day—the soulmark bearing your name.

Soap grits his teeth. You're giving yourself up for him. You're going to take the fall in exchange for his freedom. Why can't you just do one goddamn thing he wants you to do? It should be him protecting you.

He tries to catch your eye again, but you look away from his furious glare. Deep down, a part of him understands you. That infuriates him even more. You're doing this out of some sick sense of duty. Just like everything else.

Horangi is impassive. "Ah. Guess that explains it."

A hand comes down hard on your shoulder, and you're pulled back hard as two of your teammates take you by the arms and ziptie you. You don't struggle. One of them kicks out the back of your knee and forces you to kneel. 

Soap snarls as he tries to shake the mercenaries pinning him down. "Get your hands off her!"

Horangi smirks down at Soap. "You really do like each other, eh? Cute."

Soap's blood burns through him. All his systems are haywire. He's angry at you, but he's more furious than he's ever been in his life at the men holding him down. He jerks again, taking one of the mercs by surprise. He manages to get to one knee before they're on him again, joined by two more of your comrades who stream in to help.

They force him to the ground once more. Horangi digs his knee into Soap's back and jabs him with the butt of his rifle. Another merc kicks a boot into his gut. But Soap doesn't stop. He's not going down without a fight. He won't sit there quietly and let anyone walk away with his woman.

Horangi looks down his rifle at Soap and rests his hand on the trigger, his smirk gone. "Careful," he says, voice low. "I still might just shoot you."

"Then you'd better kill me in one shot, because when I get my hands around your fuckin' neck--"

"Johnny, stop," you interject.

"Why?" he growls. "You think I'm just gonna sit here and watch you give yourself up?"

"You don't have a choice."

"The hell I don't."

Horangi pushes his rifle harder against Soap's skull. "Listen to her, mutt."

"Hey," you snap at him. One of your comrades behind you pulls your arms back, and you realize you're unconsciously fighting to get close. "Let him go."

When Soap sees you straining against your binds, trying to reach him, his heart clenches. He lets out a stream of expletives and throws his body weight against the mercs trying to hold him down.

"You care for him that much? Then again, I guess you don't have a choice."

"Horangi—"

“Yes, yes. Relax,” Horangi says to you, keeping his rifle trained on Soap. “I don’t plan to kill him. But we're not uncuffing him. Because we're not fucking idiots," he mutters. He steps off Soap and nods toward the back of the lounge where the bar and kitchen are. "Put him in the walk-in."

The mercs pull him roughly to his feet, jerking his arms behind his back. His gaze flicks to you, and he opens his mouth to say something, but you won't meet his eyes. It's like you're trying to shut him out completely, closing yourself into some emotional void. Just like in that interrogation room. He can’t fucking stand it.

Soap growls in frustration as he's hauled backward. He's torn between anger and desperation, wanting to make you understand how much he needs you. But you're so stubbornly set on building your stupid walls and keeping him out.

"This never would've happened if you'd just let me handle it," he snaps at you. "But you had to go runnin' off by yourself instead of listenin’ to me."

You stare at him in disbelief. He's still arguing this? How headstrong is he? "You're the one who refused to rat me out!” you retort, unable to stop yourself. “I was out the fucking window when you went all heroic and forced me to come back and save your ass!"

Soap's temper flares hotter. "Oh, I'm the one who went all heroic?" He yanks his arm against his captors' grip, but it hardly slows them down. “You’re the bloody martyr, aren’t you? Couldn't just let me handle it. Had to go sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong."

"You with a fucking gun to your head? That was you handling it?"

"I've been in worse situations," Soap shoots back, bristling. "I didn't need your help. And I damn sure don’t want you throwin’ yourself into danger like you've got a death wish."

You swallow. You were right to step in and take the fall for what you did, you realize. As rough-tempered as your soulmate is, he's just trying to protect you. He deserves better than you.

"This is... it's what I deserve," you say finally.

Soap's eyes widen in disbelief, his expression going from anger to shock to cold fury. "What you deserve?" he hisses, his voice low and enraged. "What you deserve is a good smack upside the head. You think you deserved to throw your life away for my sake? That's how little you think of yourself?"

"I betrayed my teammates and ruined our contract. I have to pay for that."

He's so fucking over it. You’re letting yourself be ripped away from him because of—what, a mistake you made? Loyalty to your team? Some misguided sense of penance and responsibility? Empty excuses. None of that should matter. You’re meant to be his.

"I don't give a damn what you think you deserve,” he says. “You're not the one who gets to decide that."

"And you are?"

You're looking at him like you don't believe him. It makes something in him snap loose.

"You still think you're expendable," he says, his voice hard. "As long as everyone else is safe. As long as you've done your bloody duty." He jerks his shoulders, angry and desperate to have you in his sight for a few more seconds. "Whatever you tell yourself, you’d best remember you made your goddamn choice to take what Iwanted most away from me. I swear to you, darlin’, when I get out of these cuffs, I will find you and make sure you never leave my sight again. That’s what I deserve.”

You say nothing. Your heart is in your feet as they wrestle him away.

You’re not worth this. You can't be. You've shown him—all but told him you were ready to abandon him mere minutes ago. He just doesn't care. Regardless of what you think, he keeps deciding you're worth the fucking trouble.

You're just trying to do one thing right by him. One thing. But he has to go and tear your heart in two about it anyway. Bastard.

"Let go of me!" Soap barks, voice echoing behind you as they drag him out of sight.

The sound of the large, industrial steel walk-in freezer banging open echoes through the basement, followed by clattering and Horangi barking orders. Then it slams closed.

That's it, then. The last time you'll see him.

You believe him when he says he'll never stop looking for you. You might be stubborn and set in your ways—he happens to be worse. But you know your employer, and you know what happens to traitors who kill the charges they're paid to protect. Regardless of what seemed right at the time.

You know there are prisons with which the CIA won’t interfere.

You're going to live the rest of your life in a cell. Because of your own damn sense of responsibility for some twisted form of penance for your past.

The moment you hear the lock on the walk-in click, whatever solemn self-assurance you felt turns to ash in your mouth. Penance bears a strong resemblance to empty self-righteousness and self-hatred. Worse—it feels a hell of a lot like you're condemning your stubborn bull of a soulmate to a lifetime of searching for a woman who refuses out of spite to be found.

Horangi and the others return, and the two mercenaries at your sides haul you away. You stumble along with them, numb. They drag you out of the building and push you toward the back of a bulletproof KorTac panel van.

What have you done?

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / [part 10] / part 11 / part 12

more Soap / masterlist

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act II, Scene II: The Crazy Idea)

After being cornered by your friends, you find yourself in an even more complicated position due to your impulsive decision.

Part warning: none, just my bad attempt at crack humor Words: 2.6k A/n: If you paid attention, I've been using his gifs from season 9 so the timeline is somewhere along there. And while writing half of this, I realized Emily wasn't even on that season, but for the sake of fanfiction and pure imagination, let's ignore the human error of this stupid author. Thank you. Let me know what you think!!

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

It took you exactly seven hours and fifteen minutes to finally gather the courage to head to Penelope's lair. The morning had been a blur of paperwork and reports, leaving you mentally drained and chained to your desk. But no matter how much work you plowed through, your mind kept drifting back to last night's disaster and how your friends had planned the whole thing.

Frustration wasn’t enough to describe how you felt. You found yourself gripping your pen so tightly it threatened to snap in your hand, and your fingers pounded the keyboard harder than necessary as you typed out reports.

Eventually, you found yourself daydreaming about ways to get back at them. You imagined a dozen different ways to plot your revenge, each more elaborate than the last, and although it provided a temporary sense of satisfaction, it wasn't enough. 

By the time you wrapped up your last report, your frustration had reached its peak. You decided you couldn't wait any longer. You headed to JJ's desk first, hoping to catch her and get some answers, but it was empty. With no sign of her anywhere and your patience wearing thin, there was only one other person who might have the answers you needed.

You made a beeline for Penelope’s office. The moment her door came into view, you knocked sharply and then entered without waiting for a response. You weren’t surprised when you found Penelope and JJ huddled over a monitor, their heads snapping up in sync at your abrupt entrance.

“There she is!” Penelope exclaimed, turning around in her chair. “We were just talking about you.”

“Oh, really?” you replied, crossing your arms. “I wonder what could possibly be so interesting about me.”

Penelope and JJ exchanged a quick look, barely suppressing their chuckles. 

“How did it go last night?”

You groaned at the memory. “I can’t believe you guys tricked me!”

JJ laughed and turned to you, her expression almost apologetic. “Look, we’re sorry, okay? We just thought it would be…” she looked over at Penelope, trying to come up for a word before settling with, “Fun.”

“Fun?” You exclaimed. “Manipulating your friends into awkward situations is your idea of fun?“

Penelope waved her hand dismissively. “It couldn't have been that bad. Did you guys talk it out?”

You stared at her pointedly as if the idea of you having that conversation with him was absurd.

“No.”

“Did he apologize for anything?”

“No.”

“Come on, there had to be some deep, meaningful conversation,” JJ chimed in, trying to hold back a grin.

You scoffed. “No.”

“Did he walk you home?”

“No—wait, yes, he did,” you admitted, recalling the memory. “But he complained the whole time about how inefficient my route was and how there were, and I quote, statistically shorter paths to my apartment.”

“How sweet of him,” Penelope observed, deciding to ignore the last part of your rant. Then she wiggled her eyebrows. “Did he lean in for a goodnight kiss?”

“What? No!” You sat on the only empty chair in the room, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Nothing happened.”

“Did he at least say something sweet when he walked you home?” Penelope prodded, trying to dig deeper.

You shook your head, a resigned sigh escaping you. “No, because it was nothing like that. We talked, we ate, he walked me home. That’s it.”

“Sounds like the start of something to me.”

“Totally the start of something,” Penelope nodded enthusiastically.

You rolled your eyes. “There’s nothing to start because we can’t even stand each other.”

“Well you know what they say,” Penelope sang. “There’s a thin line between love and hate.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, trying not to show how unnerving her assumptions were. "That's ridiculous."

“But he walked you home,” she pointed out.

“So?”

“So that’s got to be something,” JJ joined in. “Spencer’s not exactly known for going out of his way unless he wants to.”

“He was just being polite,” you insisted, feeling cornered. “He walked me home because my apartment was on the way to his place.”

Penelope tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, on his way, or making a way?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache brewing. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Maybe he’s being subtle about it,” JJ suggested, trying to sound reasonable. “He’s not that forward when it comes to expressing his feelings.”

“No, guys, it wasn’t anything like that,” you insisted, your voice rising slightly in frustration as your eyes moved between the two of them. The room felt smaller with each passing second, the walls closing in as they stared at you expectantly. They were enjoying this way too much.

“Oh, but it could be,” Penelope persisted. “You’re both single, smart, attractive people who spend a lot of time together.”

“You two are unbelievable.”

“It’s okay, you can tell us,” she continued, her voice softer now as she reached out to pat your hand. “We’re your friends, and if there’s something more, we’d love to support you.”

“Or if you prefer to keep it a secret, we won’t tell anyone.”

“Exactly. You can trust us. We’re really good at keeping secrets.”

“So good.”

“So good.”

Your patience snapped, frustration and pressure boiling over. “Fine! Yes! We’re going on another date!” You blurted out, the lie spilling out in a moment of desperation before you could stop. “Happy now?”

Silence fell over the room as Penelope and JJ stared at you, stunned. Then slowly, realization dawned on their faces, and a chorus of excited squeals filled the air.

“Oh, I knew it!” Penelope exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight.

JJ grinned at you. “Really?”

The weight of your words hit you like a cold splash of water.

What had you just done?

“This is so exciting!” Penelope gushed, her enthusiasm mounting. Then she turned to you. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

You suddenly felt a wave of panic. You scanned their faces, seeing only genuine excitement and curiosity, no hint of doubt and discomfort swelling inside you. How could you explain that there was nothing to tell because there was no second date? That it was just a knee-jerk reaction to their relentless teasing? You couldn't possibly confess now, not without making everything infinitely worse.

But how were supposed to tell him? The idea of deceiving not just your friends but also involving Spencer in this lie made you feel sick. The room seemed to spin as you tried to come up with some way to ease the damage.

“I... I wanted it to be a surprise?” You managed to say, although the words sounded more like a question. Your lie felt hollow even to your own ears, but Penelope and JJ seemed to buy it, nodding and exchanging excited glances.

“This is going to be amazing,” Penelope said, practically bouncing in her chair. “So when’s the next date?”

Your mind raced. For there to be a next date, even a pretend one, you needed to talk to him. The realization hit you hard, the full weight of the lie you'd just created sinking in. You'd have to involve him in this deception and the thought made you feel queasy. You imagined the awkward conversation, the look of confusion—and likely frustration—on his face. This was going to be a mess.

You opened your mouth, then closed it, scrambling for a response. “Uh, soon. I-I’ve got to go talk to him about it, actually.”

Penelope’s eyes lit up even more. “Oh, planning it together! That’s so sweet!”

You forced a smile, slowly rising from your seat. “Yeah, super sweet,” you mumbled, your voice barely steady. You could feel your cheeks burning as you stumbled over your lies. “I, uh, better go find him now.”

Without waiting for a response, you bolted out of the room, your heart pounding in your chest. You mentally kicked yourself with every step. You had let them get to you, allowing their teasing to push you into this mess. You couldn’t believe you had let yourself get caught up in this lie.

You paused in the hallway, briefly considering turning back and telling them the truth. The thought lingered for a moment, the idea of ending this charade before it spiraled further out of control. But you quickly shook your head, knowing that backtracking now would only make things worse. You could already imagine how unbearable the teasing and explanations would be.

No, you’ve gone too far to back out now.

Continuing down the hallway, your steps quickened as you searched for him. You finally spotted him by the pantry, absentmindedly pouring too much sugar into his coffee. You walked up to him and leaned against the counter, watching him stir his coffee with more force than necessary.

“I did something stupid,” you blurted out, catching his attention. He looked up before glancing back down at his cup.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“No, listen.” You leaned in closer, lowering your voice. “It’s about last night.”

He finally looked at you, eyebrows raised, clearly surprised as to why you would bring up anything from last night.

“What about last night?” He asked, bringing his cup to his lips.

The words tumbled out in a rush. “I was with JJ and Garcia, and they were teasing me about us, how we supposedly have this… thing going on now. I couldn’t take it anymore. So…” You watched him take a sip of his coffee. “…I told them we’re going on another date.”

He choked, the drink catching in his throat. Coughing, he set the cup down with a sharp clatter, his eyes watering slightly as he regained his composure.

“You told them what?”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” You rushed to explain. “They wouldn’t stop pushing and I just wanted them to shut up. I thought if I said something like that, they’d just leave me alone. But now they expect details, and I… I need your help.”

He took a deep breath, trying to process what you were asking of him. “Let me get this straight. You, of all people, told them we’re going on another date, knowing full well how we—” He paused, searching for the right words. “How we don’t get along. And now you want me to help you keep up this lie?”

You nodded, and he called out your name in frustration.

"Last night wasn't even a date!”

“I know! The words just… came out.” When you saw him shake his head disapprovingly, you let out a groan. “I’m not thrilled about it either, okay? But I’m kind of… desperate here.”

Spencer took another sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving yours. After a moment, he set the cup down, gripping it in his hand.

“No.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “No?”

“No,” he confirmed before turning around, walking back to his desk. “I’m not going to help you.”

You shuffled along, trying to match his pace. “Why not? This could actually get them to stop.”

“Do you even hear yourself? This is crazy. You can’t just spin lies and drag me into them because you want to avoid a little teasing,” he retorted, sitting down and starting to shuffle through some papers on his desk, clearly trying to end the conversation.

“It’s not a little teasing! They’re relentless,” You pressed, leaning against his desk. “Come on, don’t you ever get tired of them trying to set us up?”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to pretend to date you. What’s next? A fake wedding?”

“Don’t be dramatic. We just need to show up together a couple of times, act mildly interested in each other, and then we can break up. We fake it, we tell them it didn’t work out, and we move on. It’s simple.”

“Of course, because nothing says ‘simple’ like faking an entire relationship.”

You crossed your arms and took a deep, calming breath. “Look, I know it’s not the greatest plan, but can you think of a better way to get them off our backs?”

Spencer stared at you, his eyes narrowing as he considered your words. “You realize you’re trying to deceive a team of profilers, right?”

He had a point, but you weren’t about to back down. “Wasn’t this your whole idea in the first place?”

“My idea was for us to act like we get along, not pretend that we’re in love.”

“It doesn’t even have to be convincing,” you argued, leaning in slightly. “Just enough to make them back off for a while. Besides, if you start laying it on too thick, they’ll never believe it. They know you don’t have much experience to begin with.”

Spencer looked offended, his brows knitting together. “I have experience,” he countered. “Just because I’m not flaunting it doesn’t mean I’m completely clueless.”

“Oh, yeah? When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and when you noticed the sudden change in his demeanor, you realized what you had just implied. There was a tensed pause as you both stared at each other. You both knew the answer to that question, and you both knew you were treading dangerous territory.

But before either of you could break the silence, a voice cut through the tension. “What are you two lovebirds fighting about now?”

You turned to see Derek standing by his own desk, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. And then you saw it, an opportunity. If Spencer wasn’t going to agree to help willingly, you were going to take matters into your own hands.

You straightened your shoulders and faced Derek. “We need to tell you something.”

Spencer sensed what you were about to do and quickly stood up. “Wait—“

“Reid and I are dating.”

You heard Spencer take a sharp inhale. There was no turning back. The nerves in your stomach tightened, but you decided to ignore it and focus your attention on Derek instead. His eyes widened in surprise, looking between the two of you.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, crossing your arms and standing your ground, while Spencer remained silent beside you, his expression unreadable. “We decided to give it a shot.”

“At dating? As in romantically?”

“I don’t think there’s another way to describe it.”

Derek stared at you both for a moment longer, then his shock gave way to a broad grin. “Finally.” He let out an amused laugh “Took you two long enough.”

He approached with a playful swagger, clapping Spencer on the shoulder and ruffling your hair, which you quickly swatted away. “Can’t say that I’m surprised, but congratulations.”

Spencer looked at you, and you glanced back at him. Derek, oblivious to the tension between you two, grinned widely.

“I guess all that tension was just unresolved passion, huh?”

Your eyes snapped at him. “Morgan!”

“Alright, alright.” He raised his hands in mock surrender, still wearing a broad smile. “I’m just happy for you both. Seriously.”

You stared at him, bracing yourself for more teasing, perhaps a joke about what supposedly happened last night, or worse, something embarrassingly inappropriate. But to your surprise, Derek didn’t press further. Instead, he simply nodded with a genuine smile and returned to his desk, resuming his work.

You and Spencer stood there, dumbfounded, not quite sure how to process the sudden shift. You both were so used to his relentless teasing that his quick exit left you momentarily speechless.

You slightly leaned towards him as you continued to stare at Derek hunched over his desk.

“Do you hear that noise?” You whispered.

“What noise?”

“Exactly. This is the sound of peace,” you replied with a slight grin, turning back to Spencer. “See? This is already working. If we keep this up, we can finally get them off our backs.”

“I still think this is a bad idea,” he muttered, giving you a pointed look.

“Do you have a better plan?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Because I’m all ears if you do.”

Spencer sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He studied you for a moment, his eyes searching your face as if weighing the pros and cons. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this…” He trailed off, looking genuinely conflicted. “This is going to backfire, you know that, right?”

Sure, he could be right, but at the same time, you believed this plan was harmless. It seemed like a simple solution: a fake relationship played out convincingly enough to appease your friends. It was supposed to be straightforward—an act, a performance without real consequences. Nothing could go wrong if you controlled the narrative.

You finally looked up at him. “Don’t worry,” you said, trying to sound confident. “It won’t.”

But as the words left your mouth, you realized, you weren't entirely convinced.

[notjustjavierpena]

Public

Main Masterpost | Series Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Written for @janaispunk ‘s 1500 kisses challenge where I had to incorporate a cheek kiss and a French kiss. This was so fun to do and made me able to do a very requested scenario! I’m pleased Jana allowed me to use hubby (even if he isn't hubby yet here)🥰 and it turned a lot more smutty than intended (not that i’m sorry)

Summary: You play the perfect part at Javier’s office party.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, established relationship, they’re so in love, domestic, banter, lots of kisses, dirty talk, praise kink, exhibitionism, clit stim, fingering

Word Count: 3.6k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56618974

Public

Work parties in your office are always a dreadful thing; ugly and over-the-top decorations on the walls, tedious conversation with people higher up than you, and terrible music that seems to be played by the worst DJ in history. That’s why you giggle, a hand covering your mouth, the first time Javier mentions that he has to go to one of these schmoozing events at the police station. Police station and party are words that do not belong together. 

Javier raises a brow as you continue giggling about it, “What’s so funny about that? You don’t want to go?”

“God, no!” You shake slightly from the laughter, reaching down to cup your mug of coffee with both hands again so it doesn’t spill. Javier looks slightly hurt by your reluctance, so you force yourself to stop snickering and tilt your head with a genuine smile, “Hey, of course, I want to go with you. For moral support at the very least. It’s just… I know exactly what you’re in for and that’s very funny.”

“Don’t remind me. I’ve endured enough so far,” Javier groans. He reaches up to run a hand over his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose like he has a headache already. 

“You haven’t endured one with me though. I’m great,” you grin cheekily over the top of your mug, taking a sip when you earn a little smile. It’s the first party he’s going to after you started dating and it seems like a milestone in your relationship; there’s something about showing you off to the people he spends time with every day and thus involving you in his work life. It’s getting more and more serious each day. 

“You’re right about that,” he replies and you know that he is thinking the same thing. He crosses the room where you are standing against the kitchen counter in his apartment, looking so much like someone he wants to marry one day. Gently, he takes the mug from your hands and places it on the counter, only to lean in and not quite kiss you yet. He talks with his lips hovering just above yours, “If you’re so good at them… Any survival tips?”

You scrunch up your nose to look like someone having a think, constantly on the brink of a snicker when he traps you between his arms by placing his palms on the table behind you. You hum and then light up, “Oh, I’ve got plenty but the most important one is to plan an exit strategy - seriously, Javi, weren’t you in Colombia? You should know this - anyway, we need to secure a safe escape route and come up with a plausible reason to leave early. Involve me, if you like.”

Javier’s eyes soften as he looks at you. He can barely believe how fantastic you are, “¡Dios mío (My God)! And here I thought you were going to say something like ‘grin and bear it’ but you’re a woman with an evil plan.”

“Right? You think you know someone…” you lean in for a kiss that he teasingly avoids. His breath ghosts across your face and you pout from how much you want to put your lips to his and how much he doesn’t let you, “Javi.”

“I know, baby,” he tuts and bumps your noses together, “But we need an excuse for the party. Any ideas from the mastermind herself?” 

You place your forearms on his shoulders and decide to tease him right back, “Oh, I don’t know. We could just sneak out the back when no one’s looking. You could make an arrest against the back of the building.”

Javier makes a noise in the back of his throat. He tries to hold himself back, only just succeeding, “We could do that, yeah, definitely, but I think I’ll stick around a bit longer if you’re there to make it bearable.” 

“Okay okay,” you stop your teasing, “How about we stay for an hour tops, mingle to make you seem like the best colleague in the world, I’ll charm your boss’ pants off…”

“And then I’ll say we have an urgent… situation that we need to attend to,” he suggests. 

“And what would that situation be?” You smirk. 

Javier’s voice drops to a suggestive tone, “Hmm, I dunno. A personal situation that requires my full attention and… immediate care.”

You link your fingers on the back of his neck, teasing his hair there with your fingertips, “Funny. I think one of those situations might just be happening right now too.”

With that, he cannot go on any longer. He pulls you in and behind you, your coffee grows cold. 

—

The police station looks ridiculous while Javier looks nervous. It’s a contrast you want to gawk at because as far as you know, nothing seems to rattle the previous DEA agent turned sheriff of Laredo. However, social interaction in the workplace appears to be his kryptonite and with his donut-eating and domesticated lifestyle colleagues, he seems very much out of his element compared to who he tells stories about from Colombia.

“You know, you have to point out the guy I have to schmooze with. We need a signal,” you whisper close to his ear as you enter the bullpen and a few heads turn. Your hand is in his and when you squeeze it, he seems to relax a little more in his step. Your eyes scan the room for faces that might match the names you’ve heard in passing conversations. Most of them stare back with a subtle look of respect and admiration, eyeing you at first and then nodding at each other in approval. You should feel on the spot but you can barely concentrate as Javier lets go of your hand to rest his palm against the small of your back now that his confidence is slowly coming back.

“No need, he’s coming towards us right now,” he says quietly and smiles in his boss’ direction. 

“Tell me his name,” you say with a little smile of your own, “Quickly.”

“Uhh, that’s Commissioner Martin Lopez,” he manages before he receives a slap on the back from the man approaching you. 

“Peña! Glad to see you joining the festivities. Always good for moral support,” Lopez greets and gestures to the room of deputies. He is a large, square-shouldered man with a booming voice and a mustache even more impressive than your boyfriend’s. He looks like someone who laughs from his belly and you’re surprised that Javier is still standing upright after his large hand has clapped his shoulder. 

Javier is just about to introduce you but then you hold your hand out and interrupt, “Commissioner Lopez. You’re a frequent name in our conversations; Javier admires you a whole lot.”

“You should hear how much he talks about you around here, ma’am. I’ve been hearing about you all night because everyone’s itching to meet you,” Lopez replies with a huge smile. He shakes your hand which disappears inside of his huge one. 

You look briefly at Javier with a raised brow. On your back, he rubs up and down as a hidden ‘thank you’ while sporting an embarrassed smile. 

“Said too much?” Lopez questions teasingly. 

“Not at all but really? Ma’am? You’re making me sound so old, Martin,” you charm and give him a playful roll of your eyes. 

His eyes light up as you match his energy and he lets out a hearty laugh, “Apologies, miss. ‘Fraid it’s a bit of a habit. Should we expect to hear Mrs. soon?”

“Sir,” Javier tries to interrupt, horrified by the bluntness. 

“My God,” you theatrically clutch at your chest and turn to your boyfriend again, “Sheriff Peña, how much do you babble on about me here?”

Lopez holds up both his hands, seeming to love your display, “Now now, we need to let him keep some sort of authority here. Can’t be too hard on him in front of the others, so you best be off mingling. I still have a few rounds to make to make sure everyone’s enjoying themselves.”

“It’s good to see you, sir,” Javier says and earns a squeeze on his shoulder. 

“Glad to see you finally brought her,” Lopez looks in your direction and you share a smile. He turns to leave afterward, heading in the direction of a larger crowd and as he greets them, you hear his voice echo through the room. 

You turn to Javier, linking your arms around his neck and smiling at him with tenderness in your eyes, “You have nothing to worry about here. They all love you.”

“Suppose it’s nicer than some of the shit I got in Colombia,” he murmurs, staring over your shoulder as the crowd discreetly watches you embrace. He rests his hands on your hips, smoothing them around your waist until they entwine on the small of your back. You want a kiss and he pecks your lips when you make an impatient sound. 

“Much nicer,” you eventually say, twisting around to lean against his chest. Your gaze goes over the crowded room, a few smiles meeting yours, “They look at you like you’re the sun or something.”

“And you are doing fucking great, by the way,” he squeezes you in his arms, “Making friends faster than I ever did.”

You tilt your head to look up at him, your eyes meeting his, “What can I say? I’m a natural, Sheriff Peña.”

“And modest too,” he shakes his head with a fond expression. Then he leans in to kiss your cheek from behind with a tenderness that tells you how much he appreciates you being here with him, going public in front of his colleagues for the first time. It’s not a quick peck but rather a lingering, heartfelt kiss that makes your heart sing for more of his affection. You feel the warmth of his lips against your skin, and it sends a shiver down your spine. 

The room fades for the moment it goes on and when you come to your senses again, when your heartbeat has slowed down enough to notice your surroundings again, you realize the intimacy of the moment and feel the heat in your cheeks. However, you don’t let yourself feel anything negative towards it when you also come to the point that Javier Peña is not embarrassed to be affectionate with you in front of others. 

“That was nice,” you whisper as you still look up at him, feeling your cheeks hurt slightly from how much you are smiling.

He says nothing but instead just adds a quick peck to your hair. There’s no way he’ll describe this party as anything close to unbearable now. 

The night goes on after Javier reluctantly releases you from his arms. You circle the room together, all smiles and laughter, but sometimes you even separate and it doesn’t feel as frightening as you thought it would. Joke aside, maybe you are a natural. 

You end up in a group of female deputies. Julia, a woman with an impressive winged eyeliner, asks you how on Earth you caught yourself such a man and managed to hold him down. You reply with an embarrassed laugh, fidget with your dress strings on the front, and look in your boyfriend’s direction as you receive yet another compliment on him. Much to your delight, you catch a glimpse of Javier seeming to relax and enjoy himself. It makes you return to the conversation with newfound joy. 

“Honestly, he’s the one who caught me,” you say with a grin, earning a round of knowing giggles from the group, “I mean… He’s pretty hard to resist.”

“Well, the two of you make a great couple,” Julia says while the rest nods and hums. You reach up to cup your burning face, the ache in your face really hitting you.

“Not giving you a hard time, are they?” Javier interrupts and slides an arm around your waist. He catches your eye and gives you a quick, reassuring smile that makes your heart flutter.

“Just the opposite, Peña,” Julie jokes with a wink. “We’re giving her the lowdown on you.”

Javier groans playfully, “Shit, I’m doomed.”

“Better find out now than later, so I know what I’m in for,” you laugh genuinely, leaning into his side and feeling his arm tighten around you. 

“How are you feeling? Tired?” Javier checks in. 

“A little,” you falsely admit. This seems to be Javier setting the exit strategy in motion, so you go with it. 

“Do you wanna head home?” He continues, rubbing your side affectionately, “We could go back to my place.”

You hear the women make an “ooh”-sound. You nod while chewing on your bottom lip, “Yes, please.”

It doesn’t take long to say your farewells and even less time to exit the building and walk towards your car further down the street. It’s nice and cool outside, stars above you blinking occasionally. You like feeling him so close without him touching you as you walk, noticing quickly that he keeps gazing at you. 

“Why are you staring at me like that?” You look back over your shoulder as you approach the car. 

Javier is just about to reach for the keys in his pocket when he pauses. He waits a moment before striking, “It’s nothing. I just couldn’t believe how sexy you were playing the good little wife.”

You whirl around with your breath caught in your throat, your heartbeat quickening in your chest at those words. His eyes burn on your skin, an intensity in them that you can’t ever resist. You decide to say something back, “Yeah? You like me as your wife, huh? Cooking in the kitchen and cleaning the floor on my knees?”

“You don’t know what you do to me,” Javier says, his voice having dropped an octave. He steps forward and maneuvers you before you can protest until he has you firmly against the side of the car. The cool metal is nice against your electrified skin, creaking slightly as he pushes you further into the vehicle when his lips crash against yours. 

You instinctively reach up to cup his face, mouth falling open in a moan as he settles a knee between your legs. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue past your lips, and as you respond by allowing him to practically eat from your mouth you find that he is tasting like himself so thoroughly that you can’t get close enough. 

Your hands slide up into his hair, tugging slightly as you continue kissing him so messily. He makes a noise, pushing his pelvis into yours to make you whine for him. 

“Not here,” you say without pulling back, knowing there’s no way you are stopping this. Between another string of lingering kisses, you try to protest some more, “We’re on a public road.”

“I know,” he seems to be under the same spell, velvety tongue against yours, “Spread your legs.”

“Javi,” you scold mid-kiss.

“I’m gonna put my hand underneath that dress and make you come because you deserve it,” he tells you with the kind of tone that lets you know he has already made up his mind, “And then I’ll take you home, and show you how much I appreciate you.”

Javier’s hand lays flat against your thigh, going upwards until it teases the hem of your dress. Despite the protest you have just voiced, you find yourself spreading your legs the second he slips his fingers underneath it. You don’t make it too obvious for others if they were to walk by, only just giving him the access he demands while your heartbeat takes over your whole body and your panties start to soak, “Fuck, okay. Okay.”

“Good girl,” he whispers against your lips and catches your mouth in another fervent kiss. You lay your arms on his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he makes your knees weak. He places his hand flat against your stomach and then slides it down into your panties, never once ending the kisses he is giving you. 

The second his fingers press against your slit, you breathe in sharply through your nose and moan his name softly with the result of breaking the kiss. He chuckles a little, says you’re unbelievable under his breath and goes to work on you. He doesn’t slip his fingers inside of you just yet, just strokes your cunt the way he knows you like. 

You mewl. Your eyes flutter closed, eyebrows scrunching up as you concentrate on the pleasure he is giving to you. He seems conflicted by wanting to stare at you while he touches you but then decides against it and leans in to let his lips find yours again, capturing them in another kiss that makes you dizzy even in the fresh night air. 

His fingers slide through your slick folds, two fingers finding your pulsing clit to go back and forth over it until something starts building below your belly button. You gush a little when he collects more wetness, dripping obscenely into his palm. 

“Estás tan mojada para mí (you’re so wet for me),” he praises in a whisper during the few seconds he pulls out of the kiss to get a proper mouthful of air. You grab the back of his neck and pull him back to your mouth, panting softly into him whilst nodding. 

“I know… Please,” you say breathlessly as his fingers work their magic. 

“What do you need, mi amor (my love)?” He asks against your mouth, knowing better than to break apart again. 

“More, please,” you clutch at him, the hand that’s not at the top of his spine digging its fingers into his shoulder, “Inside, baby.”

Finally, he slides his middle- and ring finger into your awaiting heat. Pretty little wife, wasn’t that what he’d called you? You clench around his digits at the idea that it will mean that he’ll make you come with his wedding ring on his finger one day. 

“What happened there?” He asks in awe, referring to the way you just choked his fingers. He curls them inside you, repeatedly hitting that perfect spot that makes you see stars. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, unable to keep kissing him, and look to the sky, “Nothing, just thinking of you as mi esposo guapo (my handsome husband).”

Javier pushes his hips forward to let you feel his hard cock against your thigh, “Watch it or I’ll fuck you right here on the street. What a mess that’ll be.” 

Those words spike your arousal. Mixed with the way he fucks you open on his fingers, your peak nears faster than normal. You partly blame it on the danger of the situation too; the excitement of maybe getting caught even if the streets are pretty much deserted at this point. 

“You like that idea, huh? That what makes my baby come?” He asks with a hint of a condescending tone. His thumb finds your clit, pressing down in tight circles while he drives you wild with his fingers in your twitching cunt. 

You shake your head but your pussy clenches again, betraying you. His snicker is dark and he speeds up his hand’s thrusts, “Then you better keep quiet for me. I don’t think you can though, can you, baby? Fuck, you are gorgeous and good for me.” 

Teetering on the edge of release, you curse yourself as you moan despite your best efforts to keep your lips zipped tightly in public. Javier’s eyes flicker with mischief and self-satisfaction and his free hand comes up to cover your mouth. He holds your gaze intensely, “That’s right. You’re so loud for me, baby. Can’t help yourself when I make you come.”

You start to tremble. He smirks, “Come for me. Right here, right now.”

With a final thrust of his fingers, you come undone, your body shuddering against him as waves of ecstasy crash over you. He catches each of your cries in the palm of his hand, successfully muffling them so no one will look out their windows to see what the racket is about. But then again, is the sheriff going to arrest himself for indecent exposure? 

When you come down, he has you mewling feebly as his fingers are still inside you, now moving gently to tease out a few aftershocks. He smiles softly at you, eyes locked onto your tired ones, and removes his hand from your mouth when you’ve calmed completely. 

“Jesus,” you chuckle and inhale sharply as he withdraws his hand from your ruined underwear. He admires the shine on his fingers underneath the moonlight, watching the way the slick coats his fingers in pearly white. You feel beyond flustered as he cleans them with his mouth, keeping his eyes fixed on yours in a hungry and obscene display. 

“You taste so good,” he licks between two fingers and reminds you of how his tongue also makes you come like no one else ever has. 

You smile lazily and lean against the car, still trying desperately to catch your breath whilst your legs shake beneath you. When you try to straighten your clothes, he bats your hand away and helps you with a gentleness that makes your heart ache for this intimacy to be forever. 

“Your place?” You ask as he straightens out a fold on your hip. The night screams for more of this, more of his hand touching you. 

“Yeah, get in the car,” he replies and unlocks the vehicle for you, “Let’s go home.”

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[natsaffection]

OOOOH I HAVE A REQUEST could you do nat x reader where reader is nat’s stress relief (Natasha is a mob leader or ceo or something powerful) and our whole job is to be ready for nat to take, punish, degrade and use whenever she pleases. Top/mean nat super smutty 🫣

Mine to use.

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Using body for own pleasure, begging, strap on, rough sex, oral (n receiving) spanking, power use

Word Count: 2,1k

A/N: ups..💆🏻‍♀️

Natasha Romanoff, known in the underworld as the Black Widow, sat at the head of a long mahogany table in her luxurious office. The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Her presence commanded respect and fear, a combination that had allowed her to rise to the top of the criminal hierarchy.

Dressed in a tailored black suit, Natasha exuded power and control. Her red hair was neatly tied back, emphasizing her sharp features and piercing green eyes that seemed to see right through any deception. She leaned back in her chair, listening intently to the reports from her lieutenants, each of whom vied for her approval.

“Our shipment from Eastern Europe has been delayed,” one of her men reported, his voice tinged with anxiety. “The authorities have tightened their inspections. We’re looking at a two-week delay, at least.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, but she remained silent, her fingers drumming on the table. She had little patience for delays and incompetence. “And the situation with the East Side gangs?” she asked, her voice cold and measured.

“We’ve managed to secure a temporary truce,” another lieutenant responded. “But it’s fragile. They’re demanding a larger cut of the profits.” Natasha’s lips curled into a predatory smile. “Demanding? They’re in no position to demand anything from me.”

As the meeting continued, Natasha’s mind drifted slightly. Beneath the table, hidden from the view of her subordinates, you knelt quietly. You had been summoned earlier, your presence required for a different kind of service. Natasha’s hand found its way to your hair, tangling in the strands as a silent command.

You knew what was expected of you. You leaned forward, your movements careful and deliberate. Your tongue traced a path along Natasha’s inner thigh, your touch light and teasing. Natasha closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Her men exchanged glances, shifting uncomfortably in their seats, fully aware of Natasha’s reputation and her ways with girls.

“How do you plan to handle the shipment delay?” Natasha asked, her voice steady despite the pleasure coursing through her.

“We’re exploring alternative routes,” the lieutenant replied nervously, trying to maintain his composure. “It will cost more, but we can avoid the increased inspections.”

Natasha nodded thoughtfully, her attention divided. “Do it. I want that shipment here within the week.” Your tongue worked skillfully, your movements guided by the rhythm of Natasha’s hand. Sometimes you really wondered how you ended up in this situation and could still remember exactly the first encounter with her:

“Over my knee.” she commanded, her voice sharp and unyielding. You hesitated for a moment, confusion and fear clouding your mind. “Miss Romanoff, I don’t understand—”

“Did I ask for an explanation?” Natasha snapped, her eyes flashing with anger. “Over my knee. Now.”

Swallowing hard, you complied, draping yourself over Natasha’s lap. The position was humiliating, but you knew better than to protest further. Natasha’s hand rested on your lower back, holding you in place.

“Do you know why you’re being punished?” Natasha asked, her voice icy. “No, Miss Romanof..” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“One of my so-called colleagues made a mistake,” Natasha began, her hand coming down sharply on your backside. You gasped, gripping Natasha’s knee to steady yourself. “And I don’t tolerate mistakes.”

The spanking continued, each strike harder than the last, each one a release of Natasha’s pent-up frustration and anger. Your body jerked with each blow, your cheeks burning both from the pain and the humiliation.

“M-Miss Romanoff, please!” you cried out finally. “I didn’t do anything wrong!” Natasha’s hand paused mid-air. “What did you just say?” she asked, her voice dangerously low.

“I—I’m sorry, but I didn’t do anything w-wrong..” you repeated, your voice breaking. Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “Talking back, are we?” she hissed. “You will learn not to speak unless spoken to.”

With renewed fury, Natasha continued the spanking, her strikes even harder than before. Your body jerked with each blow, your cries filling the room. You clung more to Natasha’s knee, desperate to keep yourself from crying out too loudly.

The office door opened suddenly, and one of Natasha’s colleagues stepped inside. He froze, eyes wide as he took in the scene.

“I’m sorry. I—I didn’t realize you were busy..” he stammered. Natasha didn’t pause in her actions, her hand continuing to come down on your backside with methodical precision. “What do you need?” she asked coolly, her eyes never leaving your quivering form.

“I, uh, have the reports you requested.” he replied, trying to maintain his composure. “Leave them on the desk,” Natasha instructed, her voice steady. “And close the door on your way out.”

The man did as he was told, his face pale as he quickly exited the room, closing the door behind him. Your grip on Natasha’s knees tightened, your knuckles white as you fought to keep silent.

“You see,” Natasha continued, her voice a low growl. “I expect absolute obedience. No talking back, no excuses.”

Natasha’s breath hitched slightly, but she maintained her composure, her eyes never leaving those of her subordinates.

“And the truce?” Natasha continued, her voice betraying nothing of the sensations she was experiencing. “Make it clear that any breach will be met with swift and severe consequences.”

One of the lieutenants dared to glance under the table, curiosity getting the better of him. Natasha caught the movement and her eyes snapped to his. “You.” she barked, pointing a finger at him. “Out. Now.”

The man paled, scrambling to his feet. “Y-Yes, Miss Romanoff.” he stammered, hurrying from the room. Natasha’s eyes followed him until the door closed behind him, then she returned her attention to the others. “Anyone else being distracted?”

Her men shook their heads, clearly intimidated. Natasha’s reputation for ruthless efficiency was well-earned, and none of them wished to test her patience.

As the meeting wrapped up, Natasha gave one final command. “Keep me informed of any changes. Dismissed.”

Her men filed out of the room, each offering a respectful nod as they left. Once the door closed behind them, Natasha’s facade of icy control slipped slightly. She looked down at you, her eyes dark with desire. “Good girl,” she murmured, her voice a low purr. “Finish.”

Your movements became more fervent, driven by Natasha’s praise. The mob boss leaned back in her chair, allowing herself to fully enjoy the sensations. Her control over you was absolute, extending from the boardroom to the bedroom, and everywhere in between.

As Natasha reached the peak of her pleasure, her grip on your hair tightened momentarily before releasing. She leaned forward, breathing heavily, her eyes softening as she looked at the woman beneath her.

“Look at me,” Natasha commanded gently. You obeyed, lifting your gaze to meet Natasha’s. “Come here.” Natasha instructed, her voice soft yet authoritative.

You rose to your feet, your legs unsteady. Natasha stood as well, pulling you into her lap for a brief, tender moment.

“You did well,” Natasha said softly, her lips brushing against your ear. “But remember, your debt is far from paid.”

“Yes, Miss Romanoff.” you replied, your voice a mixture of submission and affection. Natasha’s smile was predatory yet tender as she held you close. “Now, leave my office.” She commanded.

As you turned to go, Natasha’s hand came down in a sharp smack on your ass, a final reminder of who held the power. You gasped, a flush spreading across your cheeks as you left the room.

And it had been like this for several months. You owed Natasha a lot of money but could never pay it on time. Until you begged her to forgive your debts and you would do anything to make it happen. Natasha didn't have to think about it for a second and since then you have been her personal toy. She was feeling bad? You were there. Her coffee was too cold? She took it out on you.

One day had been a disaster from start to finish. Natasha’s meetings with the criminal elite had gone awry, with deals falling through and alliances crumbling. Her temper was on a knife-edge as she stormed back into her office, slamming the door behind her. She needed an outlet, and she needed it now.

She grabbed her phone and sent a single, commanding message: “My Office. Now.”

You arrived quickly, your heart racing as you stepped inside. The tension in the air was palpable, and you knew tonight would be different. “Miss Romanoff?”

Natasha’s eyes were dark with anger as she stalked towards you. “Strip.” she ordered, her voice a dangerous growl.

Your hands shook as you hurried to obey, quickly discarding your clothes. Natasha wasted no time, grabbing you roughly by the arm and dragging you to her table.

“Bend over.” Natasha commanded, her voice sharp and unyielding. You complied, your body trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation. Natasha’s presence behind you was overwhelming, her anger radiating off her in waves.

“Do you have any idea how infuriating it is to deal with incompetent idiots all day?” Natasha spat, her hands gripping your hips tightly. “To have every single plan fall apart because of their stupidity?”

As she let the meeting enter her mind again, Natasha pulled something out of her drawer and you heard her strapping something on.

“Answer me.” Natasha barked, her hand coming down in a sharp slap on your backside. “No, Miss Romanoff..” You gasped, the pain mixing with an unexpected rush of arousal.

“That’s right,” Natasha hissed, positioning herself behind you. “You can’t possibly understand the level of frustration I have to deal with.”

With that, Natasha entered you roughly with her fake cock, her movements harsh and punishing. You cried out, unable to suppress the sound as Natasha set a brutal pace.

“That’s it,” Natasha growled, her grip tightening. “Scream for me.” Your cries filled the room, your body responding despite the roughness. The more you screamed, the more aroused Natasha seemed to become.

“Do you know how much I love hearing you like this?” Natasha murmured, her voice dripping with dark satisfaction. “It kinda makes me feel alive.”

“Please..” You whimpered, your body responding despite the roughness. “It’s too—oh my god!”

“Don’t hold back..” Natasha commanded, her voice a low growl. “I want to hear every sound you make.” You cried out, your voice filled with both pain and pleasure. “Oh, please!”

Natasha’s pace increased, her movements becoming even more forceful as she fed off your reactions. “You’re mine.” Natasha snarled, her breath hot against your ear. “And you will take everything I give you.”

“Y-Yes, Miss Roma..noff..” you sobbed, your body shaking with the effort to hold on.

Natasha’s grip tightened further as she reached around and pulled your arms behind your back, holding them firmly. The new position allowed Natasha to thrust even deeper, each powerful movement driving you further into the bed. “Stay still,” Natasha ordered, her voice harsh. “I don’t want you moving an inch.”

“I can’t,” you gasped, your body at Natasha’s mercy. “It’s too deep!”

“Good.” Natasha growled, her voice filled with dark pleasure. “P-Please..”you begged, your voice breaking. “I can’t hold it!”

“Then come.” Natasha commanded, and your body obeyed, the release overwhelming and intense. But Natasha wasn’t done. “Again.” she ordered, her voice leaving no room for refusal. “And this time, scream for me.”

“F-Fuck!!” you cried out, your body trembling with exhaustion and pleasure. “Please, it’s too much!” Natasha brought you to the edge and over again, her control unwavering. Each climax was a release of Natasha’s pent-up frustration, her anger dissolving with each wave of pleasure.

When it was over, Natasha leaned back, her breathing heavy. She looked down at you, who lay panting on the table, your body marked by the roughness of their encounter.

“Get dressed.“ Natasha ordered, her voice softer but no less commanding. “And remember, you are mine to use as I see fit.”

“Y-Yes, Miss Romanoff, thank you..” you replied, your voice steady despite the exhaustion. You dressed quickly, your body aching but your heart full. You knew you would be summoned again, and you would be ready, as always, to pay your debt in whatever way Natasha demanded.

[lucrezianoin]

So, I wanted to rant about ascended Astarion a bit. I think a lot of people try to look at it and maybe only see some of his dialogue, and decide that because his decision was to ascend, then this is the best one for him, or for the romance. This is specifically for a romance perspective. Btw, ascend him away, do it, I am not saying it is a bad choice, I am saying that it is an interesting one that should be seen clearly because it is written so so well.

First of all, I want to say that the core of this path, in my opinion, is confirming his fear. The world is NOT kind. The world is cruel, and the only thing that can protects him is power.

The note on him wanting more vengeance is that he is scared, deep down. He will also refuse to say Cazador's name, something that spawn Astarion can and will discuss with player character.

By letting him ascend, you did not see him. You did not see the moments of guilt and hesitation that he showed to you in his journey through the palace, or through the game in general. You did not see that he could be something else or that he did not need power to feel safe. I know some people do not like the "persuasion" choice, but the sentence is so short, it is just a moment, where the MC will show him that he CAN be something different. It is not easy returning to a place of such horribly long abuse, be surrounded by such violence, and remember that just a few seconds before... well, he was admitting that he saw himself in the spawns in the cells, as something pathetic that needs to be destroyed.

LOVE

Something interesting in the vampire ascended route is how much you can talk about love. Two of the options in particular are at the first night, if you can ask him what he learnt from this experience.

If you select that you hoped he would learn to love you, then this is his answer, which makes it seem like the game almost calls out the player: Is this not enough? Then this is not the route for you.

He is offering you this eternity and power and that is love for him. Later, he will also tell you "I love you, isn't this what you want to hear?". He knows what you want, and he is giving it to you, but how much of this is what he wants?

Differently from spawn Astarion there is no way to ask him here, no way to complete his arc with the third and last "What do you want?" question.

The other is related to love, you can tell him that you hoped he would learn that sex and relationships are not about power, to which he angrily replies that EVERYTHING is about power. By letting him ascend, you confirmed to him that this is true. Power is what he needed to be safe, power is what he needed to escape. Power over others is the only thing that can work and basically... exists. So even sex and relationships are about power.

In the talk just after you let him ascend, you get something similar, where he looks at you and says that you, like all the lowly creatures who desire to serve, are also awaiting his command. He sees everything as a power struggle, now.

The third mention of love is actually after you break up with him. You can see it here in this video. He pronounce the word "love" with disgust, and says that that is the game he knows, so he will play it, but that he respects you for not allowing him to destroy your love.

SELF HATRED

As I said at the start, this choice of letting him ascend is based in reinforcing the idea that the world is dangerous, sex and relationships are power struggles (and he WILL turn yours into one too), and that there is no kindness, that he should be scared.

There is also a deep level of self hatred and disgust. He wants to cut ties completely with his old self, so much that if you tell him you miss his former self he will be shocked. The dialogue in screenshots is not enough to convey the emotion so I'd recommend checking a video:

Here too:

Instead of embracing the journey and continuing, the cuts himself from his past self completely. This is quite heartbreakingly realistic.

A TRANSACTION

Another thing that is easy to notice is the transactional feel of this relationship. After he expresses surprise that you let him kill all those people, he asks you what he can do for you, what you desire. One of the options is "I want your body", to which he answers "You earned it."

This is the character who had gone through a whole arc about how sex used to be transactional (he offers you his body in exchange for the bite, if you get him to proposition before the party, he seduces you for protection), and had to ask to the player to go slow, because he never really knew what intimacy really was without sex as something transactional being involved.

Here, he is offering you his body as something you earned, as a reward.

Regarding the sex scene... seeing both this and the spawn one with the free camera mod, I could see that the movements are the same - the difference is that ascended continues to show sex, and they are naked... and spawn is more hesitant. You can see it in the way he hesitates after he pushes Tav down.

You can compare the videos (ascended here, THEY ARE NAKED use caution, and spawn here). The scenes are like NIGHT AND DAY.

Ascended Astarion does not push you, he does not crawl over you, he does not even seem to make much eye contact (images of ascended is from the video I posted the link of).

Look at the eye contact in spawn Astarion.

The whole scene is completely different.

OWNERSHIP

"How is being beholded to one another too different from being enslaved"

This is one of the things ascended Astarion tells the player if you break up with him, after a couple of nights. He will reveal that he would have used your trust and love until you were nothing. There are many MANY ways Astarion expresses ownership over you.

One example comes from meeting Araj:

Here he is referring to the fact that Araj thought him your slave, but now it is you who belongs to Astarion.

Another small moment is when you can ask him "Are you going to compel me like Cazador did with you?" He doesn't even reassure you, or deny it, he tells you "Why would I need you, you are going to be obedient." The key word here is obedient.

This is reminiscent of one of Cazador's rules "Thou shalt obey me in all things".

Coincidentially, a few lines after, Astarion even tells you his version of Cazador's third rule "thou shalt not leave my side":

And "Thou art mine":

Notice that you can ask him in game "you made me a spawn, what will happen to him" and he won't reply, he will just correct you on the word, saying that consort is so much better. There is another two occasions where he will talk about his desires to what will happen with you. One time he mentions that he wishes he could sequester you in his palace, but that will have to wait, and in another occasion you can remark (after break up) that he would have treated you like furniture and he does not deny. If you play as Durge and you choose Bhaal, he will laugh about you sitting naked in his lap, while he gives order to his horde, from HIS palace.

There is an ownership in the whole dialogue choices of this path that is really hard to miss.

BREAKING UP... 4 days later

Another interesting thing is that if you choose the harshest break up options he will say "There you are, the real you shows himself at last." And yet, indipendently from it, any kind of break up will end up in an aftermath scene.

This scene will trigger three nights (or two?) after, and Astarion will say some very interesting thing. I posted the whole scene here, but basically... he will reveal that he respects you for breaking up with him, he did not think you had it in him.

The difference with the wisdom check is glaring:

Keep in mind that Ascended Astarion (pre-sex) has SO MANY options to break up with him. Almost 4/5 options are confrontational. While for spawn Astarion you have no option at all to break up with him at least not until after the final scene (while Ascended Astarion has both).

CAZADOR's WORDS

I already talked about how Astarion's words kind of betray the start of his intentions to almost adopt (maybe unconsciously) Cazador's rules. This is not surprising given that the game explicitly calls his story a cycle of abuse and power, and like Cazador's got his rules from his previous master, Astarion did from Cazador. I also noticed in other moments that Astarion uses similar words to Cazador's.

Pet. One of the things Astarion will often call the player is pet. This is something similar to using "pup" in act 1, during the party, but as far as I remember never repeated (Cazador also calls Astarion a "disobedient pup"). The important thing is that you can call him out on it "I am not your pet". He says he is just joking, life is a joke!

Little wretch, cattle, stupid. There are all things that Cazador called him or used in general. I will need to dig deeper to find them all, but the most interesting one was for me "pet". I might be wrong, but I think this is something Astarion uses only post ascenscion.

KARLACH

I don't want to talk too much about Karlach because I did not play as her yet, but I know that she has a whole new path for this... and it is not a good one. Astarion's first sex night with her has him horribly aggressive and nasty, because of his own insecurities (confirmed by the devnotes). And Astarion's sex night when he ascend is even worse.

He will be so overcome by his new power to believe that he can bite her anyway, even with her engine. He will end up hurting himself and immediately accusing her of being broken, not normal, of reuining everything. Even after Karlach tries to tell him that it is not her fault.

Absolutely horrible. Given Karlach is the player character, the same would have happened to any Tav is something had prevented Astarion from biting them.

You can see the video here.

WHAT DO YOU WANT?

To conclude, Astarion's character goes through a complete arc of finding out what he wants and being seen as spawn Astarion, while ascended Astarion goes through a complete arc of finding out that power is the one thing that can save him and protect him, and obtaining it, so much that he basically owns you too.

It is two completely journey, and I think both with a satisfying conclusion.

One follows the trails of asking Astarion "What do you want?" and the other follows the trail of Astarion asking you what you want and telling you this is what you might want.

In the case of ascended Astarion, the final "what do you want" (after act 1, where he deflects, and act 2 where he says he doesn't know, he never tried it before) is "You, this", this being the safety you offered, being seen. He remarks about being seen, in particular.

For ascended Astarion, there is no option to ask him "what do you want" again, but the character still concludes the arc by using the same words he used in act 1. "This is what you want, isn't it?", where he offers the player this fantasy and the player just has to accept, and say yes.

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

Hi! I love how unique your works are there’s nothing like them on here!

I was wondering if I could request an ot8 reacting y/n finding a stray black cat and begging to keep it and then spoiling the cat! I thought this was a super cute fluffy request

Thanks love! Don’t forget to drink water !

P.S do you have anons ?

𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕛𝕖𝕔𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕥-𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕒𝕔𝕜

Warning: fluff

Summary: Request!

A/N: no i currently don't have anons but i'm open to it!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Psst, Lix,” she whispered towards the blonde boy. He quickly looked over at her, confused, before she yanked him off the couch with a yelp.

“What are you doing?” he whispered back. “And why are we whispering?” he asked, still puzzled.

“Shhh, not too loud. Follow me, and I’ll explain.” She grabbed his hand and slowly pulled him along, making sure to avoid everyone else in the hallway.

“I don’t like this,” he grumbled quietly. They arrived at her room, and Felix mentally prepared himself for the worst.

“Come on,” she rolled her eyes playfully before opening her door just enough for them to slip through. When they were finally inside, Felix gasped.

“Oh. My. God.”

“SHHH!” Y/N giggled, trying to keep quiet.

“Chan and Lee Know are going to kill you,” he whispered back, quickly making his way to the bed, where a ball of black fur lay.

“It’s so cute!” Felix squealed, petting the cat. “Where did you even find him?”

“Yes, it’s a him, and I found him on the way back from class,” she smiled.

“Does anyone else know?”

“Nope, you’re the first. Please don’t tell anyone,” she begged.

“I won’t, but you’ll have to tell them sooner or later because Lee Know knows everything,” Felix warned her.

Felix knew the two oldest of the group had the best instincts in the house, so by the evening, when he was playing video games with Changbin and heard Lee Know yelp, he wasn’t surprised.

“Y/N! Get in here now!” Lee Know’s loud voice echoed through the house, and Felix stifled a giggle.

“What did she do now?” Changbin asked casually.

“Brought a stray cat home,” he laughed again, trying to get comfortable on Changbin’s lap.

“Damn, she’s gonna get it,” Changbin chuckled, not even surprised at his girlfriend’s antics.

“Told her not to hide it,” Felix said, glancing up the stairs, trying to hear the conversation.

When Y/N heard her name being called, she knew she was in trouble. Lee Know had three tones when he called them:

The “dinner is ready” tone.

The “hurry up, we have to go” tone.

The “you’re in big trouble” tone.

Right now, it was the third tone, and she knew she was in deep trouble.

“Coming!” she replied, getting off the stool and collecting her books from the library.

When she stepped into the corridor, she saw her door was slightly ajar and gasped. She was busted.

“I can make a run for it,” she whispered to herself, looking for an escape route.

“Don’t even think about it,” Lee Know’s head poked around the corner of the door. “Don’t you dare.”

She sighed, defeated, before slowly making her way to her room, where she found Lee Know pacing back and forth.

“Tell me why I come to drop off a basket of your laundry and find a creature sitting on your bed?” he demanded, clearly upset.

“I—I... okay, so basically—”

“And don’t you lie to me, Y/N Y/L/N,” he said, furrowing his brows.

“I was walking home, and he wouldn’t stop following me, so I decided to keep him,” she frowned.

“You didn’t think to ask us first?” he huffed. “He was probably following you because I made you tuna wraps for lunch today.” He huffed again, crossing his arms.

“Oh... but—”

“We can’t keep him. We have too much on our plate to take care of a cat, and knowing you, you’ll end up making me take care of him,” Lee Know said, returning to put her laundry away.

“But baby... pretty please? I’ll do anything,” she whined, walking over to cling to him.

“Let go of me before I stuff you with tissues,” he grumbled, but he didn’t push her away.

“Babe, baby, the love of my life,” she pouted, trying not to laugh at his miserable expression.

“I’ll give you head for the next three weeks,” she said, knowing she rarely gave head because it wasn’t her thing.

“Make it four, and it’s a yes,” he smirked.

“Fine, deal.” She sighed, getting off him. He grabbed the laundry basket with a satisfied smile.

“You better tell Chan, or else I will,” he said before walking out, proud of the head he would be getting.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute,” she whispered to the cat, who looked back at her, puzzled and confused.

The next day, everyone had a busy schedule—everyone except Chan, who had to work from home due to an upset tummy.

“I wonder where she put it,” he muttered to himself while going through cabinets.

“Could it be in her room?” he wondered before quickly making his way to Y/N's room, hoping to find his drive.

“I really need to get her her own drive; this can’t—” He stopped in his tracks when he fully entered her room. A small cat was casually strolling around, meowing.

“What the—” he exclaimed, confused. Why was there an animal living in her room, and how long had it been there? Had he been so busy that he didn’t even notice his girlfriend sneaking around behind his back?

“Hey there, little guy,” he crouched down and started petting the cat.

“Your mama is going to be in big trouble when she gets home, yes she is,” he said in a baby voice.

“You must be very hungry, huh? Come on, let’s go make you something to eat,” he cooed at the cat before slowly picking it up, forgetting all about his search for the drive.

“Lee Know’s going to love you, hm?” he chatted with the cat as they made their way downstairs to the kitchen.

“I wonder what she named you—probably Pebble or some silly name like that,” he laughed to himself before pouring a bowl of milk.

Satisfied, he watched as the cat happily started to drink the milk while he sent a quick text to Lee Know about the new addition.

“Your other parent is going to be home in a few hours, so you better behave because I have a lot of work to do,” he said before leaving and making his way to his office.

“I'm home!” Hyunjin was the first to arrive.

“Oh, hi there!” he said, startled when he found the random cat lounging on the couch. “Aren’t you the cutest?” he cooed, stroking the kitten.

“Hey, babe?! Do you know there’s a cat in the house? Did you get it?” Hyunjin called for Chan, who quickly made his way to the living room.

“Hey, my love,” Chan said, giving him a quick kiss before laughing at the sight of the cat trying to cuddle in Hyunjin’s lap.

“I found him in Y/N's room,” he chuckled.

“Not surprised,” Hyunjin sighed. “Remember when she tried to get you to buy her a chicken?” He laughed at the memory.

“Or the pig,” Chan added, shaking his head. “I swear this cat is the closest thing we can get to normal.”

“Yeah, I overheard her telling Han how she was going to convince you to buy her a horse,” Hyunjin said, laying his head on Chan's lap and continuing to coo at the kitten.

“Please don’t tell me you’re being serious,” Chan huffed. “She’ll be the death of me.”

When the boys finally got home and were properly introduced to the new addition, Lee Know had made sure to bring some cat food, and Felix had bought some cat supplies. It was confirmed that the cat would be staying for a while.

“I’m home!” Y/N called out as she entered the house and removed her shoes.

“In here!” Han called back. She made her way to the living room, excited to greet her boyfriends, but was quickly startled to find her cat sitting on Chan’s lap while I.N. and Seungmin were petting it.

Oh no.

“I can explain!” she said, quickly putting her hands up in defense.

“Yes, you can, and you will,” Chan replied. He didn’t look mad or angry, though.

Why didn’t he look angry?

“I was walking home, and he followed me. I tried to get him to leave me alone, but he wouldn’t,” she pouted.

“I’m not mad that we have a cat now; I’m just upset that you didn’t tell me, babe,” he said, handing the cat to Seungmin to hold.

“I know, I’m sorry, but I thought you wouldn’t let me keep him,” she replied.

“We can keep him. I think it’ll give you a chance to learn what it feels like to be responsible for another life,” he said, pulling her into his arms for a quick kiss.

“Just make sure you actually take care of him and don’t do this again,” he added with a light warning.

“Thank you! I won’t, you’re the best!” she squealed.

“Oh, and Y/N,” he said before leaving the room.

“I’m not getting you a horse,” he smirked, exiting before the argument could begin. She looked at Han, feeling betrayed.

“I didn’t tell him, I swear!” he said, holding his hands up in defense while laughing with the rest of the group.

“Snitch,” she rolled her eyes. “Come on, Pebble, let’s show you around the house.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3

A/N: Thank you anon!

Taglist: @ihrtlix@bowsnbang@katsukis1wife@thegingerthatwaited@thicccurls

@xxeiraxx @paleangelsweets @klaydohart @eastleighsblog @ivrespace

@galaxy4489 @purplepursepaint @catlove83 @sillystormsstuff @iwuberic

@cocofia143 @royal-shinigami @virluna148 @galaxycatdrawz @memersanonymous

@skz-stay13 @seungminsbest @hogwartslife64 @sinfulfic @hyunnesblog

@maisyyyyyy @cluelessred3 @leezanetheofficial @cocofia143 @lemonn015

@kkamismom12 @mei0packet @igetcarriedawaywithyou @hyuneyeon @iris-iiridescent

@mbioooo0000 @newbbystay @hanniemylovelyquokka

(open: i believe i've added everyone but if you don't see your @ please comment down below)