#that's me sitting on a bench by the sea

[persephonebutdepressed]

do you ever want to disappear from everyone and just be by yourself bc anything other than that just feels too much?

[lalunanymph]

ΉΣЯ ΛПD ƬΉΣ ЯIVΣЯ

༊ on the most fertile moon of the year, rafayel finally claims you as his true bride and the mother of his future heirs

✯ warnings; sorta sequel to her and the sea but can be read as a standalone, rafayel x fem!reader, established relationship, MONSTERFUCKING, switch!rafayel, switch!reader, rafayel's lemurian form, sex in a bathtub, reader is coded to be feminine (wears a nightgown), mentions of mermaid genitalia, petnames (my little conch shell, my bride, baby, my love, miss bodyguard), size kink, handjobs, mentions of food, breathplay, breeding, mentions of previous oviposition, dirty talk, praise and degradation, language, let me know if i missed anything

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐊𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

Like how mashed kelp with prawn hearts were the perfect antidote to third degree burns, or a particularly nasty cold could be healed with sea turtle soup made from the bales found at the heart of Point Nemo’s trenches. 

Another secret? 

Male Lemurians—specifically those of the Sea God kinds like Rafayel—had a special mating ritual. 

You had no idea what you were expecting when your boyfriend called you over to his studio on a random Tuesday morning. As you had a day off from Hunter duties, you decided to drop by and visit, seeing no harm in meeting Rafayel after the innocent text he sent you.

Miss your face, Miss Bodyguard. Care to indulge me with your presence? I wanna show you something coolio lol 

You highly doubted the ‘lol’ at the end of his sentence meant anything innocent, but you had learned a long time ago to figuratively and literally go with the flow when it came to your mermaid boyfriend.

You kicked your bike to a stop by his gravel driveway, staring at the pearly domes of his studio slash home. His front door was left open and you let yourself in, trailing your eyes across the soaring, pristine white walls illuminated by the natural light coming in from Whitesand Bay. 

“Raffie?” Your voice echoes along the empty hallways.

His huge French doors were left open, the salty sea breeze tugging right at your clothes and hair, bringing a chill into the otherwise sun-warmed room. 

“In here.” 

His voice floated from the bedroom and your suspicions flared, wondering what he was up to. 

Ever since that night in the middle of the ocean when he claimed you in his Lemurian form, Rafayel was growing bolder with initiating you into the practices of his endangered people; from the unique seafood feasts he prepared for you down to the different books in a foreign language he loaned you, it seemed as if your boyfriend was eager to show you the full extent of his world and culture. 

With an open heart and an even more curious mind, you padded to his bedroom where you found the entire space open and bright, the brilliant sunlight nearly burning your retinas. You had to squint and shade yourself from the sudden glare, spotting Rafayel waving at you from his huge bathtub in the middle of the room. 

“My little conch shell. There you are.” 

You padded over to him, smiling mischievously at the sight of his slick, and bare chest. The cool, crisp bath water lapped at throat, droplets of water clinging onto the tips of his lilac bangs.

“Did you call me over just to watch you splash around?” you tease, sitting on the bench beside the tub, dipping your fingers into the cool water.

Rafayel snorted and grasped your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, the skin of his digits slightly pruned from his time spent inside the water. 

“Hardly. I wanted to ask you something… eh, more like, show you something.”

You heard a tremble of uncertainty in his tone which he tried to mask with his usual boyish bravado. Months of dating the elusive Lemurian artist gave you a deeper understanding of his personality, and you could tell behind the breezy invitation to his home, there was a deeper meaning and reason behind his need to have you here.

As if answering your silent, roaring questions, Rafayel turned his indigo gaze to the bright sky opening before the bedroom’s sunroof, the panels pushed to the sides to let in the afternoon heat. 

“Do you know what day it is today?” Rafayel hummed, pressing his lips to the back of your hand. You had to scoot closer to avoid your arm from submerging in the tub, shaking your head with a teasing smile etched on your lips.

“Taco Tuesday?” you joked and he rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding!” you laughed and added breezily, “I’m pretty sure I didn’t forget your birthday or any anniversaries. So, why is today so special?” 

Your boyfriend pointed at the bright sky, and you had to squint to follow the direction of his finger. 

“Do you see the moon there? Looks like a thin piece of cheese?” 

Following his guidance, you noticed the pale circle in the sky; almost see-through like a wisp, close enough to touch the burning sun in the horizon. 

“Uh-huh.”

Rafayel snorted. “Well… today is a very special day for Lemurians because it’s the one time in the entire year when the moon and the sun will collide.” He gauged your reaction, the confusion on your face making him sigh deeply.

“Ugh, humans. Okay, think of it this way—do you know what controls the tides of the sea?” 

A fairly easy question. “The moon,” you retorted, furrowing your brow.

Rafayel nodded sagely, like a professor trying to prove a point. “Okay. And do you know what helps things like plants grow?” 

“The… sun?” You weren’t exactly sure where your lover was going with this, but you played along for his sake.

“Good,” he gets out of the tub and sits on the edge, and you were relieved to find him dressed in a pair of navy blue swimming shorts. Unable to tear your eyes off the water dripping down his muscular thighs, you coughed, feeling your face flush warmly as you mapped the shadows lengthening around the room; a sign of evening arriving.

“What does any of this have to do with the fact that you moved the tub from the living room to your bedroom?” 

Rafayel gently grasped your chin, lifting your face up to meet his sparkling, bright eyes.

“Remember that night when we made love on the cove in Whitesand Bay… when I asked if you were comfortable with me putting my babies in you?” 

You nodded, recalling the night like it was just yesterday. Though a week had passed since your last encounter together with him, you could still smell the sea breeze on your skin, feel the stretch of his mermaid cock almost tearing you apart inside out.

“Well, tonight is what we Lemurians dub the Fertile Moon—the one time of the year where the sun and moon orbit the closest to one another, and their energies are in sync to increase the life force of the ocean and its inhabitants. Do you get what I’m putting down, Miss Bodyguard?”

Your head was spinning, and you’re not sure if you can make out the innuendo behind his fragmented explanations. 

“No… I don’t think so. Can’t you just tell me point blank what it is you want from me?” 

You tried to scowl and sound demanding, but it came off as pouty and petulant instead. 

He grinned, barely able to hide his chuckle when he turned those mirthful, indigo eyes towards you. “What I am saying, my little muse is that tonight is the one night where every Lemurian is encouraged to breed so that… conception and a pregnancy is a guaranteed success.”

The silence after his words rang like the aftermath of a blurted crass remark. 

You blanched, eyes widening when he finally helped you put two and two together.

“Whoa, hold up—tonight is the night?”

Rafayel’s eyes twinkled, and he flickered them momentarily to your relatively flat belly. 

“Remember those eggs I put inside of you? Well, tonight’s their night to shine. I mean, not literally. You’re not going to glow inside out like a pregnant sea monkey. But, if we made love tonight, it’s a 95% success rate of my babies taking...”

He trailed off, letting you absorb this fact. You take in a deep breath, wondering if this day could get any weirder. Though it had been your idea for Rafayel to show you how mermaids bred in the first place, you couldn't help the feeling that you were biting off more than you could chew. 

Absent-mindedly, you touched your stomach, almost as if you were trying to feel the smooth, oval deposits your boyfriend had gifted to you 7 nights ago. But, you could barely detect their outline or their presence, wondering how the biological aspect of everything would work. 

“Hey,” Rafayel touched your cheek, trying to get you to look at him. “Are you alright? Tell me what’s on that pretty mind, lovely.”

“It’s just,” you struggled to speak, and had to take a few, deep breaths to keep calm. “Is this really happening? You really want me to get pregnant with your babies?” 

In response, his violet eyes softened, and Rafayel steps down from the tub, moving towards you and getting to one knee. He grasped your hands, bringing them in his damp ones and squeezed them reassuringly. “You can always say ‘no’, my little muse. I’m not forcing you to carry my eggs if you don’t want to, though I do wish with every fiber of my being that you would. Nothing would make me happier than to know the only woman I’ve ever loved will be the one to carry my heirs and the future of Lemuria inside of her.”

When he said it that way…

The idea of saving an entire civilization appealed to your naturally altruistic nature, and you couldn’t deny the allure of being the one person whom Rafayel trusted to go on this journey with. Besides, your lover would never let anything happen to you—he would be there with you every step of the way to take care of you and the babies, just like he promised before. And you know he will keep his promises till the end of time. 

You nodded. “Alright. The Fertile Moon. Half-Lemurian babies. Let’s do it.” 

Rafayel gently tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, his voice low and gentle. 

“Are you sure? I mean, the choice to decline or accept is yours. I will be gentle, but tonight is one of the nights where I’m afraid nature vs. politeness will not be in play, my little muse.” There was a flash of warning in his eyes. You swallowed hard. 

“What do you mean by that?” 

Rafayel’s grip on your hands tighten, and he exhaled a sigh. “It means I might get… rougher… and if you can bear it, I will make it the most pleasurable night of your life, sweetheart.”

You paused, considering his words. “Will you hurt me?” 

He shook his head instantly. “Never.”

“Will you bite me? Maim me?” 

Rafayel shot you a look of exasperation, shaking his head. “No and no. Absolutely nothing will pierce you… well, not too much.”

The addendum stopped you short, and you gave him a cursory look. Rafayel ups the innocent act, gazing at you with his big, indigo eyes which tug on your heartstrings. 

Eventually, you’re swayed by the look of pure hope in those wondrous orbs and you sigh. 

“Okay. Fine. I’ll do it.”

Sealing the deal and taking him off guard, you lean forward, kissing him fully on his shapely lips. “Let’s make some half-mermaid babies tonight.” 

The chill of the night seeped into your bare skin, the skimpy nightgown you wore barely covering your shins and arms. You had to drive back home and change, returning to Rafayel’s home with your heart in your mouth. 

A part of you considered the repercussions of such a deal—the idea of carrying to term a human baby was already daunting, but now you had to factor in the baby being half-Lemurian into the mix.

The doors swung open, as if sensing you and admitting you within the heart of his space. Once drenched in sunshine and heat, Rafayel’s home was now saturated in shades of night, the windows kept open to let in the illumination of the moon’s rays seeping into the white walls and hardstone floors. You followed a trail of roses he left for you, right to the lip of his bedroom door. Heart thudding a mile a minute, you pressed your palms flat on the intricate wood and pushed it open.

Flickering candlelight danced across the walls, shadows growing with your approach towards the bathtub situated in the middle of the room like a crown jewel. Rafayel is nowhere to be seen, but you felt his presence in this space, watching over you—waiting. 

As per his instructions, you sat at the edge of the large tub, big enough to accommodate one human and one undecidedly non-human person. The warmth of the candles gave you enough courage to lift your head and take a steadying breath.

But, that breath stuttered out into a whispery gasp at the feeling of strong arms wrapping around you. Rafayel’s lips found refuge in the crook of your neck, kissing up and down the delicate column of your throat. His palms spanned around your waist, dragging up and down your sides, committing your outline to his memory. 

“My bride,” he muttered huskily. “You’re here.” 

“Mhm hmm,” your voice trembled, and he could feel the fear rocking you apart. “I’m here… Are you ready?”

Rafayel doesn’t comment on the terror he hears in your tone, or how you’re shaking as if an earthquake is tearing you into two. Gently, he pressed a kiss to your temple, running his hands up and down your stomach in gentle, soothing swoops.

“Relax. It’ll be fine. I’m here and I won’t ever let you go, my bride.”

He turned you around, and you were confronted by the sight of his bare chest peeking from past a pale, purple robe, gossamer thin and clinging onto his muscular torso and arms. A smirk plays on his lips when he realized you were gawking at him, your attention a boost to his ego.

“Like what you see, Miss Bodyguard?” 

Before you could reply, he slipped his fingers in between yours, tugging you closer to the bathtub. Rafayel unties his robe, letting it fall to the ground and you take it as your cue to remove your nightgown, as well. 

Though getting naked in front of Rafayel was something you had done many, many times before, this is the first time you felt a spike of fear run up your spine. Your breathing came out in stuttering exhales, and you managed to slip the diaphanous material off your body, revealing your bare skin to his wandering eyes. The heat of his gaze was like a hot brand, and you could feel it tangibly caressing the expanse of your skin, imprinting your curves onto his artistic eye. 

“You look beautiful, my bride.” 

Rafayel gently guided you into the tub, and you shivered when your toes sank in the water, finding it pleasantly warmed. He got in after you, pulling you close to his chest, hooking his chin over your shoulder. The both of you stayed like this for a little while, holding each other close. The briny scent of the ocean floating in from the wide open sunroof above gave this moment a fairylandish feel, making you think you were in the middle of some fantastical dream.

You felt his lips right on your jugular, kissing over your pulse point and shivered.

“Don’t be afraid,” his voice had taken on a deeper quality, rumbling against your chest. “I won’t hurt you. It will feel good, my bride.” 

Your eyes wandered to the sky, watching the moon burn at her brightest. Rafayel, too, took a moment to absorb the spectacular celestial sight shining from his window, his arms tightening around you.

Something about the romantic and sensual atmosphere finally got to you, and you turned around, straddling yourself on his lap. Your naked cunt bumped against his thigh, and you felt him shiver from the close proximity. 

Tangling your fingers in his hair, you hummed, leaning forward, close enough for your lips to touch, but not fully. “Raffie… I’m not afraid. As long as you’re here, I’m not scared.”

That was his cue to give into his primal, oceanic urges. Hungrily, he claimed your lips, those large hands moving to your waist to drag you flush against his body. 

His quicksilver tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring it slowly; his hands roaming across your body, caressing you with a touch full of desire and need.

“Rafayel…” 

He broke the kiss, leaving a string of spit connecting your lower lip to his, hanging tenuously like a heart about to break. 

Your lover darted his tongue out, lapping at your bottom lip, his teeth following suit to dig into the plush flesh. He repositioned you upon his lap, tangling his fingers in your hair to tilt your face to the side so he could slot his mouth closer to yours.

This kiss under the moonlight, sensual and sweet, stole a part of your soul and refused to give it back. 

Perching you on his strong, muscular thigh, Rafayel dipped his head lower, dragging lazy kisses down your jaw, your collarbone, his warm mouth wrapping around your nipples. His tongue teased them, getting them hard. You squirmed in his lap, getting wetter at his every touch. 

“Feels good, my bride?” He hummed, mouth still latched around your hard flesh and you whimpered, nodding.

Rafayel grinned at your responsiveness, hearing your whispery plea of his name passing your lips. 

His mouth was better than good—it was downright sinful and delicious. It felt like every sensation was amplified tonight, your body keyed up to receive his ministrations. 

Please, you whispered into the dim night illuminated only by candles that bounced off the whiteness of his grin. Touch me more.

“As you wish, my bride.” 

Rafayel paid special attention to your nipples, tweaking them, sucking on them, brushing his thumbs over the hard nubs. Your hips began to drag across the muscular plane of his thigh, rutting and twitching as you struggled to relieve the ache in between your legs.

“More,” you’re desperate to get closer, to feel him deeper in your body; needing to satiate the lust his touches ignited deep inside of you. 

Rafayel hummed, a grin tugging on the corners of his mouth as he tasted your desperation, your need to get off. 

“Mhm, I know,” he mumbled in between sloppy kisses raining down your neck, taking his time to taste your skin. “I know, baby. But, we’re going to take it slow tonight, yeah?” 

Rafayel would be the death of you. His duality would never cease to render you speechless; bratty, pouty boyfriend in one breath and then suddenly, a teasing force of nature determined to get under your skin and leave you begging.

Your whine graced his heated ears, and he chuckled.

Rafayel… no… stop teasing me…

Already begging? Your lover raised his lips to the juncture of your neck, biting down softly to bring the blood up, leaving his mark there. That was quick—thought you’d hold up longer than that. 

Your indignant sounds were masked by his mouth moving back to yours, kissing your protests away.

What was it you wanted to say, my little conch shell? He teased, trailing his fingers down your thighs, igniting goosebumps on your arms. I’m a tease? I’m not giving you what you want? 

He adjusted himself in the tub, the water starting to run cool, sloshing over the edges to dampen the surrounding floor. He lifted you higher into his lap, running his warmed, slightly chapped lips down to your sternum, mapping his way down to the part of you which needed him the most.

You know, I’ve never done this with anyone… Rafayel whispered against your flushed skin, nudging you up further until your pelvis bumped his jaw. You’re always the first one I try new things with… his fingertips glide across your thighs, gently nudging them apart.

You make me feel human—make me feel alive. His words are lost in your skin as he muffled them with his kisses, leaving a trail of heat in between your thighs, leading right to your pulsing core. Rafayel can’t help but chuckle at the sight of your little, twitchy clit, waiting for his tongue or mouth to give her some attention. 

His touches are languid, caressing your knees, your shins and thighs. He moved his fingers to where you needed him the most, focusing his touch on your throbbing clit, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the slick bundle of nerves which seemed to pulse his name with every touch.

“Rafayel,” your moans saturated the air, a blessing to his ears.

“Mhm… yes, my little conch shell? Feels good, doesn’t it?” His indigo eyes looked at you with pure hunger like a deadly current threatening to pull you under. 

Yes, your breathy whimpers boosted his ego, drawing a smirk on his handsome face. The heat that he sets off in your body when he placed his mouth right on your inner thigh was nothing compared to the smoldering flame about to engulf you when he sucked a hickey onto your soft flesh. 

“I can smell you—you’re practically drenched,” Rafayel slurred in between nipping kisses to your thighs, determined to leave his mark wherever he went. I just want to… fuck… he trailed off.

“What?” 

Your breathless question made him laugh.

In answer to your winded curiosity, he brought his mouth closer, right to the apex of your thighs and exhaled, warm breath fanning across your folds.

“I just want to eat you whole.” 

Warmth engulfed your cunt the second he murmured those seductive words, and your head was thrown back, your moan rebounding across the room. 

You were so worked up, it was insane how you haven’t exploded yet. The taste of you saturated his tongue, dripping right onto his chin and Rafayel lapped you up like you were the water of life, drinking you down in desperate gulps. 

Those pretty indigo eyes hazed over, his long lashes obscuring his gaze into half-mast as he worked your pussy over with his mouth. Using a slender finger, Rafayel teased past the tight muscles of your entrance, sinking down to his knuckle, curling it forward in a come hither motion as your hips stuttered and bucked.

Rafayel… oh, fuck…

He grinned at the sound of your trembling moans, and stretched your perfect cunt around a second finger, applying pressure to your golden spots, determined to make you see stars. 

Without warning, you felt the girth of his thigh transforming underneath you, growing slicker, harder. Scale-like. The texture of his wrists you were grasping tightly became harder, the skin toughening and lengthening. 

Water sloshed noisily down the rim of the tub, and from the corner of your eye, you caught the flick of an iridescent tail in mid-air.

Rafayel continued to eat you out, oblivious to your wide eyes and hitched breathing, needing to feel you shatter around his fingers. Latching his lips right to your nub, he traced his name right into your sensitive clit, enjoying how your thighs were tensing and trembling, struggling to hold yourself upright. 

One large palm guided you to ride his tongue, grasping your hip and helping you glide yourself back and forth over the flat of his pink muscle. 

Your fingers curled over the edge of the wide tub, one hand tangling in his hair to hold him closer. 

Fuck, so good, your moans goad him on. So good, Rafayel. More, please… more…

He gave it to you, lapping at your swollen folds, feeling your juices stain his mouth, drip down his jaw. 

The needy twitch of your hips and the tremble in your moans spurred him on to double his speed and precision, racing to get you right to the edge. From the depths of the deep tub, you felt something hard stirring against your thigh, the thick, scaly ridge a familiar rasp as it grazed against your soft skin. 

“I’m close,” your quivering moan made his blood thump harder in his veins. “So close…” 

Your orgasm washed over you like a hot tide, nearly making you buckle and lose your footing. Luckily, Rafayel hurried to clasp his larger, merman hands around your waist, holding you upright and slowly easing you down onto his lap. Your quivering moans go straight to his cock, and he was already hard and ready when you sank into his embrace, the tip of his monster girth poking your lower belly.

Without a second thought, you reached for his length, stroking his Lemurian cock with a loose grip, feeling his entire body constrict under your touch. 

Rafayel expelled a soft groan, the back of his head thumping against the smooth marble of the bathtub’s edge. Scaly and with bumps that felt heavenly between your gummy walls, his cock was a wonder of nature that always left you speechless. Hooded indigo eyes appraised you, and his tongue briefly darted out to touch the corner of his mouth.

“You’re becoming more bold and audacious day by day.” 

Drunk from your orgasm, you managed to give him a grin. “What did you say again—the most pleasurable evening I’ve ever had?” 

Arching a brow, Rafayel snorted. “So, jacking me off is your idea of a pleasurable evening?” 

Your lips touched his ear, warm breath fanning across his skin. “What if I said yes?” 

Putty in your hands and susceptible to your every will, Rafayel had no choice but to let you have your way with him. His hips ticked, pushing his cock further up your weak grip, aching to earn more friction.

“I would say you got me there,” his voice lowered into a husky whisper. “You’re a handful, you know that?” 

“But, I’m all yours to handle.” 

His smooth and low chuckle sparked a shiver up your spine, that hazy grin and heavy lidded eyes making your stomach flip.

“Mhm, that you are, sweetheart.” 

The water rippled from the motions of his hips undulating to match your strokes, a pinch appearing on his brow. Despite having a fear of the water, you felt safe in Rafayel’s arms, letting him hold you close as you continue to pleasure him. 

“Do you want to—”

“I think we should—”

He paused, and you giggled at both your eagerness; the simultaneous need. Rafayel’s eyes twinkled with mischief, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. 

Without another word, your lover guided you onto his lap, gently pushing your hand away from his cock and gingerly lifting your hips. 

It started out slow first, with the head of his Lemurian cock slowly breaching you, pushing past the trembling muscle of your spasming cunt. Rafayel was conscious of not slamming into you, knowing you needed time to get used to the sensation of his longer length stretching you out. 

The sensation of his bulbous head sinking through your walls, and the feel of every ridge and bump hitting your swollen spots was enough to draw full body shivers from you. 

“Fuck,” Rafayel shivered, his eyes darkening. 

Your breath tumbled out in a shaky exhale.

Palms flat on his chest, you struggled to sink down on him, the water adding more lubrication to help ease you over his impossibly huge cock. The stretch made sweat bead across your brow and you gasped, rocking your hips forward, trying to take all of him in one go. 

You okay? His mouth on your pulse point soothed you somewhat. 

Nodding, you felt the bite of pain, your muscles protesting.

Rafayel took this chance to play with your nipples, tweaking and tugging on them; when that wasn’t enough, he decided to use his tongue and teeth to get them wet and hard, leaving your body aching for more. His thumb trailed to your clit, rubbing on it as he continued to suckle on your tits, giving them both his undivided attention. 

Your pussy twitched around him and he murmured, let go for me, sweetheart.

The effort it took for you to calm yourself down enough to take him is tremendous, and Rafayel felt a burst of love and adoration for how much you were trying to please him. The hunger you showed to be perfectly good for him incited his need to spoil you even more, and he quickens the circles on your clit, trying to loosen you up so he could bottom out.

Once you were slick enough, Rafayel didn't waste anymore time, guiding you down on the last few inches, kissing you full on the mouth to quell your trembling moans.

“Fuck.” Your cries were intoxicating, driving him mad with desire when he finally sank down to the hilt, a bit of drool dripping from your parted lips. 

Rafayel didn’t hesitate to lap at it, dragging his tongue from your jaw to your chin, tasting the salt of your skin. The moon bathed your skin with pale, silky light, and the artist swore if he wasn’t trying to put his babies in you, he would’ve taken this moment to paint you from scratch. 

A tick of your hips. Your walls trembled around him. 

Guttural groans softened by his lips pressed to your neck reverberated against your skin.

Holy shit, his curses sink past your flesh. Shit, shit—you feel like heaven. 

Please, move. Your begging elicited a hoarse chuckle from the Lemurian.

As you wish, my bride.

Slow, tantric strokes. Rafayel’s grip on your hips was firm and solid. He kept a steady pace, fucking up into you, the tips of his tail flicking past the tub's rim, catching your eye with its iridescent brilliance. 

Every stroke of his ridged cock rubbing against your gummy walls felt like a pulsing nirvana. Throbbing, hot, needy. You were completely Rafayel’s—you belonged fully to the Sea God of your dreams.

Mhm, yeah, he continued to fuck into that same spot, coaxing you with You like that? fuck you like that. Mhm yeah. Uh-huh—good girl. 

The tips of his lilac bangs tickled your neck as he sucked more love bites into your neck, hellbent on marking you up as his own. 

Effortlessly, he turned you in his embrace, encouraging you to press your hands on the bathtub’s edge. This newfound position placed more pressure on your G spot, the tip of his cock nudging that same spot over and over again.

Behind you, Rafayel made it a sport to leave as many hickeys as he could on your nape, your shoulders. The rough scales of his fingertips gripped the plush flesh of your ass, squeezing heartily.

You look so good taking me like this. His rough praise drew goosebumps across your entire body. 

You tipped your head back, dizzy with lust, mouth parting wide open. 

In the dimness of the candlelight, Rafayel’s lilac eyes glimmered like amethysts, his hair shining with an ethereal gleam. 

“My love, do you trust me?” His heated question pressed into the back of your neck pricked your awareness. The stretch and the bite of pain which mingled with pleasure fucked with your mind, drawing you right to the edge where nothing in the world existed beyond you being impaled on his cock.

“Mhm,” your replying moan drew a trembling laugh from him. 

I have something which will make it all feel better… but only if you trust me. 

Rafayel tangled your hair in his fingers, and in this instance, you would’ve done anything for him. 

You nodded.

The pleasure he bestowed on your wrecked body, the gentle way he was asking if he could make you feel even more good, did not prepare you for what he did next. 

One second, your head was tilted back against his chest, and the next, you were plunged face first into the tub water. Your eyes opened wide, your entire body tensing with fear. Eyes burning, you opened your mouth to scream when he yanked you back to the surface, sputtering and crying out his name. 

“Shit.” Rafayel’s movements doubled in speed, fucking up into you like he didn’t respect you one bit. You were panting, gripping the edge of the tub with white knuckles.

“Fuck,” was the only word you could manage to blurt out, the tension in your lower belly tightening.

If it was possible, the sensation of his cock splitting you apart felt even more delirious. Dizzyingly so. 

Your eyes crossed, mouth hanging open, the slick pistoning of his cock in and out of your willing pussy making every nerve ending in your body burst into unending flames.

Raffie… fuck… do it again.

You were pleading for him to hurt you, the taboo nature of such devious desires making your blood pump harder. 

There was no need to tell him twice.

Rafayel grasped the base of your head, and your world disappeared into the bottom of the tub, your body bucking wildly, fighting for oxygen as his cock continued to bulldoze into you. 

He brought you up, and you gasped, coughing loudly. 

Fuck, your voice was gravelly from swallowing some water. Fuck, that was so hot. 

You weren’t the only one who thought so. 

Shit, your lover groaned. I’m close, baby. 

Lavishing you with praise for being so good, Rafayel held you close to his chest, your back bowing to take all of him in. 

You’re amazing, love. My bride, my Queen. You’re going to be the best mother. The best mate. I love you. I love you so much. 

The moonlight scattered across the rippling water, reminding you of that time when he had you right on the seabed and you watched the light breaking above the surface. 

Come for me, my love. His grunts touched the sensitive shell of your ear. Come for me and make me feel good—are you going to be good for me?

Yes, yes. You chant. Yes, I will, Raffie. 

Yes, my bride. Fuck—doing so good. Yeah, yeah. Come, come. Fucking make a mess on me. 

You could never deny Rafayel what he wanted. At his command, you spilled all over him, your muscles tightening, threatening to spit him out of your trembling heat. 

So good, so good for me. Coaxing you through your orgasm, he talked you through it, there for every tremble, every quiver and moan. 

Your pleasure washed over him in waves, and he couldn’t hold back the tide, not when going over and spilling inside of you, claiming you as his, is what he has always wanted since the dawn of time. 

Strings of heat splattered inside of you, filling you to the brim till you thought you could taste him in the back of your throat. 

Rafayel continued to pump his hips, desperately trying to make sure not a single drop goes to waste.

When the comedown hits, it slammed into you hard. The exhaustion mingled with the fatigue of the adrenaline ebbing out of your veins. 

You slumped back into his arms, and Rafayel was careful to slowly ease you off his half-hard cock, holding you close in his embrace. The possessiveness that dripped from his fingertips as they stroked through your hair, the heat of his body, warmed you up in the already cool water. 

The chill permeated through you, though you barely felt it, not when Rafayel was by your side.

A soft kiss was placed on your jaw.

“Was it good?” 

You nodded, hazy and dopey from the rush of hormones. “Beyond perfection.”

Rafayel chuckled at the dopey happiness alighting in your eyes, tightening his grip around your waist, nuzzling his face into your damp neck. Now that his primal instincts were cooling off, he could give your wrecked body the attention it deserved. 

The warmth of his skin seeped into yours. Hard scales turned back to soft flesh, his huge tail transforming into a pair of legs tightening around your midsection, determined to hold you fast to his chest. Languishing in the cool water, you glanced up at the moon, noting a pair of wispy clouds drifting past her luminous facade, reminding you of a couple dancing past a huge celestial spotlight.

Rafayel rubbed your belly with one hand, and you didn’t have to ask him what was on his mind to know his raging thoughts.

Placing your hand upon his, you smile at him over your shoulder. The fall of his lilac hair, the softness in his eyes. It made your heart melt.

“Are you nervous?” 

Your question, seemingly innocent, held a multitude of layers which he could unravel easily enough after having known you for close to a millenia. 

“Of the babies? No,” he answered truthfully. “But, of how will things change between us? Yeah, I’m terrified.”

You readjusted yourself on his lap, facing him, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck. “Are you afraid I’m gonna leave you once I find out your babies are bulging inside of me?” you tease.

Rafayel’s pout was endearing, and you laughed, pinching his cheek. “Raffie… you’re so silly.”

He huffed, his palms drifting to clasp around your hips, pulling you flush to his chest. “Am I so silly or just worried you might still think I’m a freak?”

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. “Ouch. You really underestimate me, my love. You’d think I’d let you do this if I didn’t want it?” 

Knowing full well how independent and firm you could be, his worries abated slightly, a smirk worming onto his shapely and perfect lips. 

“Of course not, Miss Bodyguard. You would never do anything if you didn’t love it.”

Your eyes softened. “Well, there’s your answer.” Under the luminous moonlight, your embrace tightened around him, bridging the distance between 800 years and this moment where you and Rafayel would finally be a family.

“I only do it because I love you.”

— rbs and feedback are appreciated !!

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or translate my work across other platforms.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 36: To The Sea

Summary: It's time to move on. You're not sure where you're going exactly, but anywhere is better than Texas

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7,816 words

Warnings: ANGST, injuries, medical stuff, descriptions of pain and injuries, brief discussion about strangulation, mentions of PTSD and nightmares, so much crying, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, angst, a very little sprinkle of comfort, language, mentions of medications, still very heavy emotionally

A/N: Not actually a lot of warnings for this one. It's a lot of dialogue and inner monologues. Not a lot happens, just mostly setting the scene for the next chunk of the story. Bring tissues though, the last part of the chapter emotionally wrecked me but also might be the best thing I've ever written.

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It’s warm outside. 

Not even the shade from the building can completely shield you from the dome of heat that seems to surround the base. It seeps into the concrete and asphalt that lock it into place, trapping everyone in a bubble that may as well be an oven. It’s always hot in Texas, though. You hate it. You’ve been spoiled by the cold, rainy seasons in England. You’d gladly take that over Texas. 

You’d take anything over Texas. 

The heat prickles at your skin, your arm starting to get sweaty in the sling. It had been Dr. Keller’s idea to keep your shoulder as still as possible so you don’t continue to cause yourself pain when you move. It still hurts, but at least you won’t instinctively try to use your left arm now.

Despite the warmth, there’s still a chill deep in your bones. The warmth of the pain medicine has worn off and you’ve been left with the perpetual ice that has seemed to coat your insides. Dr. Keller says it's the stress giving you a fever. Every nightmare, every flashback sends your body temperature spiking, your heart beating right out of your chest. You’re not out of the woods yet. It can take a long time to recover from that level of distress and the omega taking over. You almost regret it, but there was no guarantee you would have lived either way at that time. You did what you had to do, and it did work out in the end. 

But at what cost? 

Dr. Keller’s phone buzzes in her pocket and she pulls it out, staring down at the screen for a moment. “Kyle wants to come by.” 

You don’t want to see him. You don’t want to see any of them. 

“I think you should see him. Even if it’s just for a moment.” She squeezes your hand. “I’ll be right here.” 

It’s a predicament. Dr. Keller supports your decision to keep them away, putting some distance between all of you for the time being. Yet, she also says being close to your pack will help your healing. Having your pack around will help your omega settle once again. She needs that safety, that security before she finally lets go completely. 

You don’t want to be close to them, but you may not have any other choice. 

You sit there in silence, picking at the fabric of your sweatpants as you wait for Kyle’s arrival. Sweat has started to bead on your back, the day only getting warmer and warmer as the sun moves higher in the sky. You want to go back inside, back into the cool air conditioned building. You want to crawl back onto the hospital bed and lay there for the next few hours. 

You can’t. 

Footsteps approach, but you don’t look up. You know who it is. You don’t want to see him. 

“Kyle.” Dr. Keller greets. 

“Christine.” He says back. It still throws you off, hearing Dr. Keller's first name. She'll always be Dr. Keller to you. Kyle turns his attention to you, still standing a few steps from the bench you're perched on. “Hi, love.” He says. The affectionate nickname almost makes you wince. You don't look up at him. You don’t want to see his face. “I wanted to stop by and see how you’re doing.” 

You don't move, don't give an answer. You don't have an answer to give anyway. You shouldn't have to give an answer. 

He lowers himself onto the bench, sitting as far away from you as he can. “It’s hot today.” He says, adjusting his hat. Always wearing a hat. Maybe that's why he and Price work so well together. 

He stares at you for a long moment but you don't bother moving, your gaze still on your sweatpants. They're starting to get a bit warm, even with your perpetual chill. 

“I’m not here to apologize.” He says, breaking the silence. “You’ve probably heard enough apologies to last you a lifetime.” He shakes his head. “Words can’t fix what we did. Nothing can fix what we did, how we left you there. All we can do is give you what you need, try and make you as comfortable as possible.” 

Tears burn your eyes as you listen to him. He's not wrong, an apology won't fix what happened. No words will ever be able to fix what they put you through. You're not sure there's anything they could do that would make up for it. An apology still would have been nice, despite the fact you know how guilty he is. Their avoidance of you, their willingness to give you such space in an unknown place just proves how guilty they all are. 

That doesn't make things hurt any less. 

You slowly turn away from Kyle, angling yourself towards Dr. Keller. 

He doesn't say anything further in that regard, taking your movement as an answer to his non-apology. He leans forward instead, resting his elbows on his knees. “I just wanted to let you know that we’re getting ready to leave soon. We’ll be heading somewhere safe, somewhere quiet and secluded. I think you’ll like it.” 

Dr. Keller had informed you of that earlier after she went to speak to them. They've decided what to do, what's best for the pack again. You might have protested, except for the fact it meant you were getting to leave Texas. Where exactly they're taking you, you're not sure. You just know it's not Texas. 

“I want you to know that we’re here if you need us.” He stares at you for a moment longer before pushing himself up to stand. 

If, not when. 

Maybe they're finally getting the message. 

Dr. Keller stands, touching your right shoulder gently before she steps away with Kyle, speaking quietly with him, but you can still hear every word in the nearly silent space around you. 

“In an attempt to remain a neutral, professional party in this situation, I feel it would be appropriate for me to tell you not to beat yourself up too much about this.” Dr. Keller says. “The unprofessional side of me has many words I’d like to say to all of you.” She clears her throat. “That being said, on a positive note I can say you’re all doing the right thing for once, prioritizing your omega and fulfilling her needs, even if her needs require you to leave her alone for now. I know it’s hard, I know every instinct is screaming at you to help her, but just take comfort in knowing you are helping her. You’re doing the best thing you can do for her at this time.” Dr. Keller puts a hand on his arm, squeezing it gently. “Even if it is tearing you up inside.” 

“Thanks, Doc.” He says. 

“I’ll see you soon.” She says, patting his arm before she heads back towards your bench. 

You turn your head just slightly, not missing the way Gaz lingers for a brief moment before he turns his back on you, walking back down the sidewalk. 

It hurts. 

You want to cry with every swallow. No matter how much you chew, it doesn’t ease the pain of trying to swallow solid food. Even the worst sore throat you’ve ever had pales in comparison to this pain. Tears burn in your eyes as you eat, unable to refuse this time in favor of choking down some liquid nutrients. Even liquids make your throat ache, but they are easy to chug to get it over with at once. 

This feels like torture. 

Dr. Keller looks guilty as she spoon-feeds you the soup. Chicken noodle, something simple and easy but still something with some substance. It makes you think back to when you were sick as a child, your mother dutifully feeding you homemade chicken noodle soup until you reached the age you could feed yourself. 

You do feel like a child again, unable to even hold the spoon. Well, you could hold it, but it would have come at the expense of some burns from how badly your hand was shaking. 

So instead you sit here, being spoon-fed soup you can barely stand eating. 

“I know.” She says as a tear finally falls, your inhale shaky from the ache in your throat. “You need something in your system for the sedative. It’s a long flight and you’ll be sick when you wake up if you don’t have anything in your stomach. That’s going to hurt a lot worse than eating now.” 

Yeah. You’ve already figured that out. 

“Strangulation is a tough thing to survive.” She says, dragging the bottom of the spoon against the edge of the bowl to wipe off any soup that might drip on you. “Then again, so is getting shot, and distressing to the point of your omega taking over.” She holds the spoon up to your lips, and you’re tempted to refuse. “You’ve survived a lot, more than most could. And to look this good after...” 

You blink up at her, teary eyed and sickly looking, exhausted and bruised. Your left eye is still almost swollen shut, and your hair is tangled perhaps beyond saving, tied up in a bun at the top of your head. All just reminders of what you survived, all reminders of what happened to you. Of what was allowed to happen to you. 

You’re not quite sure when the last time you had a real shower was either. 

“I know.” She says, spooning more soup into your mouth. “You might not feel like it, right now.” 

“I want a shower.” You say, your voice still hoarse and cracking through your throat. A real shower might solve a lot of problems for you right now. It won’t fix much, but being truly clean would make a lot of things feel better. 

“I wholeheartedly agree.” Dr. Keller says. 

You give her a look. You don't smell that bad. She should know, she’s the one that cleaned the blood off of you and the one who gave you the sponge bath this morning. 

She gives you a look back. “I meant it would be nice to take a real shower. Once we get where we’re going, we can work on the logistics of a shower.” 

Right. You can’t exactly stand for a long time on your own, not to mention the problem of only being able to use one arm without bringing blinding pain upon yourself. That’s where the pack would come in handy. 

The thought of one of them seeing you vulnerable like that, putting their hands on you right now makes your skin crawl. 

A shiver runs down your spine, your body shuddering uncontrollably. You grunt as your shoulder screams in pain, another electric jolt burning straight through your nerves and down through your feet. Fuck. You mouth the word, squeezing your eyes shut. It makes your stomach churn, the soup starting to burn a path back up through your esophagus.

“Breathe for me.” Dr. Keller says, putting a gentle hand on your right shoulder. 

In and out. You focus on your breath, the only thing you can do without feeling like you’re going to go insane from the pain. It’s all you can do in this situation. It’s the only thing you can do at all. Breathe. Just keep breathing. 

Sometimes you don’t want to. 

The pain passes as it always does, leaving behind a subtle ache that will linger until the next flare of pain. It’s a constant, never-ending cycle that you can’t escape from. Weeks, Dr. Keller had said. It can take weeks to heal. You’ll be stuck in this cycle for weeks and weeks. What if it never heals? That is a possibility. It’s always a risk with any injury. 

What if the rest of your life is like this? 

You’re crying again, hot tears blazing a path down your cheeks. They won’t stop, they never stop. There’s a constant stream down your face, even in your sleep. You’ve woken to find your face and neck damp from the never ceasing flood of tears. 

How you can’t wait for the time to come when you have none left.

You’d welcome the numbness at this point, greet it like an old friend and invite it in for tea. Anything over the pain and tears that won’t stop. The depression-fueled numbness that had filled you when Price and Gaz left, then Soap and Ghost would be a welcome relief at this point. Anything would be better than the pain. 

You almost wish you were in a coma right now. Then you wouldn’t feel anything at all. 

Dr. Keller puts the spoon back into the soup bowl before rolling the table to the side. She puts a hand on your head, gently stroking your hair as you cry. The room is silent aside from your sniffles, Dr. Keller not having to say a single word. The silence is almost a blessing. You’re tired of hearing words, of hearing people speak. There’s nothing anyone can say that will do anything to help you, to comfort you, to make it better. 

There’s nothing anyone can do to make it better. 

You’re so tired of being like this. 

The sedative is kicking in before you even reach the airfield. She can see the way your head is drooping further and further forward in the car, your body jostling without any complaint. It had started kicking in before you even got into the car, as you offered very little resistance when Kyle helped her mauver you into the front seat. She chose Kyle out of everyone to help her in hopes it would be easiest on you. Your claimed alpha’s beta is a good place to start in rebuilding the bonds within the pack, and his calm demeanor certainly helps. He is a caretaker through and through, that beta trait prominent above the others in him. He would have made a good medic, had he gone that route. 

Your chin drops to your chest as the car comes to a stop in front of the plane, your body slumping to the side against the door. 

“She’s out.” Christine says, unbuckling her seatbelt. 

“Makes this easier.” Kyle says, getting out of the car. 

They maneuver you into the wheelchair, Christine easing your head onto your right shoulder to avoid aggravating the left. The less pain you’re in when you come out of it, the better, though pain will be unavoidable. Kyle pushes the wheelchair up the ramp of the plane, Christine following close behind. She’s glad she gave you the sedative before you left the med center to avoid as much pain as possible. She almost wishes she had given it to you earlier, as getting you into a sweatshirt had been a battle of its own. Though, the longer it stays in your system, the longer you’ll sleep through the flight. The longer you sleep through the flight, the longer they can delay the inevitable emotional storm of being enclosed in a tight space with your pack. 

If you’re lucky, you’ll be out of it long enough for them to reach the cottage without incident. 

John is waiting near the front of the aircraft, his eyes watching carefully as Kyle helps maneuver you into a seat. Even with the turmoil in the pack bonds, an alpha will always feel protective over their omega. There’s some things that can’t be undone, even in such a fragile state. Some instincts can’t be unlearned, no matter what. 

“I gave her a sedative.” Christine explains as she gets you as comfortable as possible in the seat. “It won’t last the whole flight, but it’ll take a while to wear off regardless.” 

“Is that more for her or for us?” John asks. 

“Both.” Christine says. “Mostly for her. It helps with the pain of moving around, but it will also keep her calm in close quarters like this.” 

“Here.” John says, handing her something. It’s a blanket, brand new by the feel of it. “Johnny made a store run this morning. It’s going to get cold in here, so he got the warmest one he could find.” 

Christine takes the blanket, the fabric thick and soft in her hands. It’s a touching gesture, speaking volumes of their desire to still care for you despite everything, their willingness to do what they have to, to keep the pack together. “Perfect.” She says, carefully draping it over you and tucking it around you before John gets you secured in the seat. 

“It’s going to be a long flight.” John says, taking a step back. 

“It is.” Christine says, pulling out her thermometer. She takes your temperature, letting out a hum at the number that pops up on screen. “I need to monitor her temperature.” She explains as John gives her a look. “It’s been spiking when she gets stressed.” 

“She's not quite out of it yet, is she?” John asks.

“Not quite.” She says, putting the thermometer back in her bag. “I’ve only seen two omegas successfully come back from that point, and I know the number across the board isn’t very high. It takes a long time for the body and the brain to get back to normal.” 

“And on top of everything that happened...” 

She stares up at him for a long moment. “She’s very strong. I knew she was a fighter, but to come out the other side even where she is now...” Christine shakes her head. “I didn’t want to say this at the time, but I was expecting the worst. When that call came in about what state she was in...” She bites her lip, holding the emotions back. “Her resilience and fortitude is what kept her alive. That and Simon’s courage to do what needed to be done.” 

“I know.” John says, looking past her. “We all owe a lot to him.” 

Christine puts a gentle hand on his arm. “You’re doing what’s best for her. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how much it goes against every instinct you have, it’s what she needs.” 

“That’s all that matters to us right now.” John says, staring down at her hand for a moment. “There’s nothing else we can do, so it’s time we start putting our priorities where they should have been the whole time.” 

Christine gives him a small smile. “I’m proud of you for that. It takes a lot to unlearn the things you’ve been told since the beginning.” 

The corner of John’s lips twitch before his face falls into the emotionless mask he’s been wearing for the last few days. “It’s about time we get our heads out of our arses.” 

“I can’t blame you totally.” She shrugs. “We were all just doing what the initiative was telling us to do. We couldn’t have known. There wasn’t any room to question it.” 

“I wish we would have figured it out sooner.” He sighs. 

“Things might have been worse if the truth did come out sooner. If you started digging into the initiative too soon, Shepherd might have gotten antsy and taken more drastic measures to stop the truth from coming out entirely.” She glances down at you. “I think this was all inevitable.” She turns her gaze back to John. “What happened, happened. None of us can change that. All we can do is keep moving forward with what we have right now.” 

He stares at her for a long moment. “The more time passes, the more I’ve come to realize why Kate chose you for this position.” 

The corner of her lips turns up in a smile. “Well, I am rather good at my job, which, among other things, involves advocating on behalf of omegas.” 

John huffs. “Wish we would have listened sooner.” 

“You can’t change the past.” She repeats, looking down at you again. “But you can change the future.” 

You woke from your sedation about four hours from Helston. 

Well, ’woke’ might have been too strong of a word for it. Your eyes opened, but you were still hazy, movements sluggish and entirely unaware of the world around you. You floated between sleep and awareness for an hour before finally gaining consciousness completely. Awareness took quite a while to return, though. Not until they were moving you to the car from the plane. 

Even still you’re groggy, slumped against the door in the back seat of the car. You blink slowly, eyes unfocused as you stare out the window at the blur of green passing by. 

“How is she?” John asks from the driver's seat, glancing up at the rearview mirror. 

“Cow.” You say, blinking slowly as the car passes a field of cows. 

“Still out of it.” Christine answers from the back seat where she's sitting next to you. Your response might have been enough to answer that. “Better than being in pain, though.” 

“How long will it take for her to get out of it?” Kyle asks. 

“Hopefully she’ll be more lucid by the time we get there, but it could take a few hours for it to completely wear off.” Christine says, wiping a bit of drool from your chin. “Probably not a bad thing. This is a big change, and with everything that’s happened, it’s going to take some time to settle in.” 

“Things are going to be rough.” Kyle says. 

“Yes.” She agrees. “Being enclosed in a small space with the people you want to see the least in the world isn’t an ideal situation. It’ll be an adjustment for everyone. I trust all of your abilities to adapt, though. Just don't go in expecting things to be the way they were.”

John's hands tighten around the steering wheel, his knuckles going white. Kyle cracks his window open, prepared for the thickening of John's scent in the air. Christine knows she hit a nerve, but it needed to be said. Even if you were open to forgiveness right now, even if they had chosen to go after you right away, things still wouldn't be the same. Things won't ever be the same. It is their fault deep at the root of it. Those cameras were put up because of them, you were taken because of them. You were chosen for the “initiative” because of them, because Kate thought you'd fit in well with them. Their decisions shaped your life, and will continue to shape your life. 

Can you ever come to forgive them? Christine likes to think so. She has the hope that they can put in the work and regain your trust and earn eventual forgiveness. She knows you'll allow them to try once the initial hurt and emotions begin to fade, once the two of you put in enough work to start processing the trauma around the events that happened. It will take time. Probably a long time. 

She'll be there every step of the way. 

“Ashley did some shopping for us, picked up some stuff to get us until we can get into town.” Kyle says, looking at his phone. 

“Good.” John says, his shoulders starting to relax. “Should wait a couple days before going. Get settled in.”

“She's still working on cleaning up. Probably still be there when we get there.” Kyle says, putting his phone back in his pocket. 

“That's fine. We’ll probably have to utilize her a bit.” 

“Doubt she'll complain.” Kyle says, looking out the window. “Be thrilled to have something to do besides work.” 

You let out a quiet groan, shifting against the door. “Hurts.” 

“I know, honey.” Christine says, carefully adjusting your left arm. “I’ll give you more pain meds once we get to the cottage.” 

“We’ll be there in half an hour.” John says, glancing up at the rearview mirror again before turning his eyes back to the road. 

The half hour seems to take the longest as you continue to become more and more lucid and aware. The pain sets in first, your brain picking up on those signals before anything else. John’s knuckles are white around the steering wheel as you begin to whine and whimper around every bend in the road and turn he has to make, every jostle of the car. Every instinct in his body tells him to pull over and comfort you, but he can’t. It’s more important to get to the cottage, and there’s no guarantee you’d even let him. It might make things worse. 

The last thing you need right now is for things to get worse. 

Christine breathes a sigh of relief as they pull up to the cottage, glad she can finally get you somewhere more comfortable. You’ve been in far too many uncomfortable positions today, moved around too much. She would have liked to keep you in Texas a couple more days, but she knew as soon as you were able to travel, the better. The sooner they could get off the grid, the better. 

The sooner they could get out of Texas, the better. 

Kyle is getting the wheelchair out of the trunk when Johnny and Simon pull up, not having been far behind. They likely took a turn around the back roads to ensure no one was following and to keep things from looking too suspicious. 

Christine keeps you from slumping out of the car as she carefully opens the door on your side. You’re more awake than you were, blinking up at her with almost startlingly aware eyes.

“Crutch.” You pout when she pulls the wheelchair closer. 

She gives you a look. “Honey I'm not sure you could even stand right now.” You may be more aware, but that doesn’t mean your body is working as it should.

You let out a defiant noise as you attempt to get your legs out of the car, trying to hide your grunts of pain and discomfort. 

She's tempted to stand there and let you try, but she knows all hell will break loose if she lets you fall. She's not willing to take that risk, not to mention it will cause you more pain to get you up off the ground. 

“Come on,” She says, stopping you before you can get your feet under you. “Nice and slow.” 

You let out a quiet growl of indignation but you allow her to help you, your legs trembling as she eases you up. Kyle is there with the wheelchair, getting it as close to you as possible so she can sit you down quickly. 

“Ow.” You breathe, eyes pinched closed as you breathe through the pain. 

“I know.” She says, patting your good shoulder lightly. She's glad she put you in the sweatshirt before you left Texas. It's chilly outside, chillier than it was further inland a few days ago. 

It's hard to believe it's only been a few days since you were taken. Barely even a week. So much happened in such a short period of time. It feels like it’s been weeks since everything started, but then again, it had been weeks since John and Kyle first left. It had been weeks since you had been around your whole pack together by the time you were taken. The deep depression you sunk into before the events of the last week had been draining you slowly for weeks before this. It had started before John and Kyle were deployed, back to that day when you revealed the cameras and the secret you had been hiding from them. 

How long you’ve gone in such turmoil. 

How far you still have to go. 

The path up to the door is rocky and uneven, the wheelchair jostling as she pushes it up towards the door. She can picture your face, the way it has to be screwed up in pain. You're silent though, holding it all in. She almost wishes you weren't being silent about it. 

The door is already open, light shining from inside as she approaches. Kyle is in the house already, having gone ahead to greet his sister. John is right behind the two of you as Christine turns to wheel you up the steps into the house. His eyes are on you, focused and ready should you fall.  

Christine would never let you fall, and from the way your hand is gripping the arm of the chair for dear life, you probably couldn't anyway. 

She wheels you through the entryway, the inside warmer thanks to a fire that's burning. It's a nice cottage, far nicer than she had been expecting judging from the outside. 

Johnny lets out a low whistle as he enters behind John, looking around. “Yer parents own this?” 

“It was given to our mum by our grandparents. They did some...renovations before they passed it on.” Kyle says. 

“Yer tellin’ me.” Johnny says. 

It looks new inside. New wood floors, freshly painted walls. The furniture looks like she would expect to find in an English seaside cottage, though. Kyle’s parents went to France for summer vacation instead of utilizing the cottage, and none of his siblings had wanted to use it, he told them. It looks almost perfect, like it came right out of a home renovation show. Kyle’s sister must have worked some sort of magic to get it this clean. 

It is a very nice cottage. It’s small, the door opening right to the main area. There’s two couches and a chair in the middle of the room around a coffee table. To the left of the couches is a fireplace, the fire already lit and crackling. It looks original, likely having been untouched in the renovations. There’s a door to the left of the fireplace closer to the main entryway. A bedroom maybe? To the right of the front door are two doors, one on the far wall and one facing the front door. 

The stairs are in the middle of the house, leading up to the second floor where there’s likely more bedrooms. On the far side of the main area is the dining area and beyond that is a sliding glass door. Around the corner on the far side of the stairs is likely the kitchen. She can see the fridge from where she’s standing. It’s new. Very new. Makes her wonder just how long ago it had been renovated. 

“Everyone, this is my sister Ashley.” Kyle says, introducing the other woman in the room. 

“Hello,” she says, giving everyone a wave and a dazzling smile. 

She’s dressed simply in jeans and a t-shirt, her medium box braids pulled up into a bun on top of her head. They look a lot alike, her and Kyle. Tall and slender and stunning. They have the same smile and the same soft brown eyes. She's wearing scent blockers, but Christine can imagine her having a soft scent like lavender or something fresh like mint. 

“There's two rooms down here, and two upstairs.” Kyle says. “The main bedroom is through there.” He points towards a door to their left. “I figure we'll give that to our omega. The bathroom in there has a walk-in shower.” 

“Perfect.” Christine says. That will make getting you in and out of the shower easier at least, and you won’t have to go far to use the bathroom.

“You should take the other room down here.” John says, looking at Christine. “So you can be close in case of an emergency.”

And so you don't have to be too close to them, so you won’t feel like they’re hovering.

He doesn't have to say that part out loud. 

“I put new sheets on all the beds.” Ashley says. “I also picked up everything Kyle sent on the list. Food, some clothes, some other necessities.”

You let out a quiet groan, Christine patting your head gently. You have to be exhausted and sore after the day. She should give you another dose of pain medicine like she said she would. You’re going to need it tonight. 

“Let's get you laying down for a bit.” She says, wheeling you towards the door. 

Kyle opens it for her, revealing a spacious room with a big window looking out towards the sea. You're going to spend a lot of time in front of that window, she thinks. The bed is in the middle of the room, and there’s two chairs facing the window. She’s almost tempted to sit you in one of the chairs, but laying down will be more comfortable for you right now. 

You're still too out of it now to care much as she wheels you to the double bed. With Kyle's help they get you horizontal, Christine draping the blanket at the end of the bed over you. It’s not very soft, but it will do for now. She’ll have to get the guys to pick up some soft blankets for you when they go to town. She has a whole list of things starting in her head she needs them to pick up.

She leans your crutch against the end of the bed just in case you might need it for an emergency. She hopes you’ll yell first, but you always have been stubborn. Being mostly bed-bound has only made that worse. 

“I’m going to go look through the things Ashley picked up.” She says, patting your leg gently. “Get some rest.” 

Christine leaves the door open a crack as she exits, wanting to give you a little privacy as you nap, or at least she hopes you’ll nap. It’s going to be a rough adjustment, and you’re going to need as much rest as you can get. 

“I’m assuming you’re Christine.” Ashley says, walking up to her. 

“I am.” She says, giving Ashley a smile. 

She can’t help but get lost in Ashley’s soft gaze for a moment. The Garrick siblings seem to share the same magnetic energy. There’s something almost ethereal about them. She could easily imagine them with glowing halos and angel wings. It’s almost like she’s being blessed with the opportunity to look upon her. She could spend an hour staring at Ashley’s face and not grow tired of looking at her.

“I picked up the items Kyle said you needed.” She says, motioning to the bags on the coffee table, pulling Christine out of her daze. “I couldn’t find the exact nutrient powder you asked for, so I got one that was as close as I could find.” 

Christine glances through the bags. She was thorough, getting at least two of everything. 

“I got warmer clothes for her too, since it can get chilly out here this time of year. Just some simple things for now until you guys get into town.” Ashley says. “I did some research too and I read that omegas like comforting things so I picked up some extra blankets and pillows” Ashley says, motioning to a couple bags sitting on the couch. “I also picked up this,” She pulls a stuffed dog from one of the bags, holding it up. “It was the softest one I could find. I thought it might help.” 

A small smile forms on Christine’s face, her heart fluttering in her chest from the sweet, thoughtful gesture. Ashley doesn’t even know you, nor did she know exactly what happened to you, and yet she went so far as to pick up some comfort items for you. You have nothing right now, only the borrowed clothes on your back. All of your belongings are still on base, all of the things that you had built to make your perfect nest. Would you want any of them still? Or have they been tainted by the events of the last few weeks? 

That Ashley thought to do this has warmth flooding Christine’s body. You can have some comfort now without having to wait for their trip to town. She almost feels the urge to cry. She wants to hug Ashley, thank her over and over for her kindness. Ashley has no idea how much her small act of kindness means, how much it's going to mean. 

A smile forms on Christine’s face as she stares at the stuffed dog. “It’s perfect.” 

You can hear it. 

In the distance, the quiet roar reaches your ears as you’re dragged from the sweet arms of sleep. It must be a dream, or perhaps the sedative is still clinging to your mind, making you imagine things. 

No. 

You’d know that sound anywhere. 

The effort to push yourself up to sit is a momentous one, every cell in your body protesting after a day of being moved and jostled. The last thing you want is to move right now, but you have to. 

The pain meds have done little to help.

The crutch at the end of your bed must be a thousand miles away as you sit there and stare at it. The ache in your body only increases as you become more and more aware of the pain, almost as if it can tell what it is your mind is planning. 

The door is cracked open, letting in a slit of light from outside. It’s dark in the room, the curtains pulled over the window. It’s a blessing compared to the bright yellow light outside the door. You welcome the darkness as your head begins to throb. You could call for assistance. You’d get more help than you needed. More help than you want. 

No. 

You need to do this. 

The effort it takes to get standing nearly sends you back onto the bed. The pain nearly blinds you as your feet touch the floor, your body leaning against the side of the mattress out of desperation. If you fall, you’ll never be alone again. You can’t afford that. You don’t want that. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

The breaths out of your nose are short and sharp as you reach for the crutch, fingers trembling in the effort to fight the pain threatening to blind you. You’re trembling like a leaf in a storm as your fingers finally wrap around the cool metal. The rubber bottom drags across the floor as you tug it over to you, holding it against your chest for a moment. 

Breathe. That’s what you need to do. Breathe. 

In and out. 

Nice and slow. 

The pain is only a memory. The pain is nothing. The memories forming at the edges of your mind will take over and wipe out the pain and the misery. You just have to be sure. You just have to be certain.

You push yourself upright using the crutch, tucking it under your arm. You should go back to bed. You should rest. 

No. 

You need to know. 

You need to be certain.

The first step you take nearly makes you sick. 

It’s like watching a baby deer walk for the first time, knees wobbling, feet shaking. You lean heavily on the crutch, your determination the only thing keeping you from tumbling to the floor in a heap. That might almost hurt worse than forcing yourself to stand upright. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

Inch by inch you move across the floor, silently grateful for the socks on your feet. They allow you to slide across the hardwood, but they also pose a threat. Slide too far and you’ll lose your feet. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

The determination and your desire for certainty is what keeps you sliding inch by inch across the floor towards that strip of blinding light in front of you. It’s hovering before you, threatening you. How do you know there’s not one of them standing guard, waiting for you to try and leave? You can’t know. You don’t have a clue what’s waiting on the other side of that door. It could be nothing. It could be your entire pack. 

Breathe. 

In and out. 

You take a moment at the door, resting your aching feet. Your body is throbbing from the effort to keep yourself upright, the sedative still numbing your brain and your movements. It’s like treading through honey, everything twice as hard as it should be. You can walk. You’ve done it before. You did it in the medical center. 

You can do it here. 

You use the crutch to push the door open more, your free arm still tucked in a sling to keep you from moving it. Reaching for it with that arm would have put you on the floor, would have caused more pain than you needed, would have made you fall. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

Breathe. 

The light burns. Explosions of yellows and whites erupt behind your eyelids as you screw them tight against the sudden onslaught. The sun is in the room, shining its rays directly into your sensitive eyes. Your stomach churns, your fingers tightening around the crutch so tight your knuckles begin to ache. The oppressive light makes you want to recede back into the darkness of the room behind you like a vampire shying away from the light of day. 

No. 

You won’t be defeated by the harsh artificial lighting. You need to know. 

You need to be certain.

The others are moving around. You can hear voices around the corner, voices upstairs with thudding footsteps. The air is thick with a mesh of scents, cleaning chemicals, and the burn of scent blocker. Your nose wrinkles at the sudden onslaught against your senses, your sedated brain making it all seem so much worse. 

You need to know. 

The hardwood floors continue and you use them to your advantage as you shuffle your way across the main area. The fire crackles as you pass, the popping of a log making you startle. Your feet slide again, your body pushing up against the crutch to hold yourself steady. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

Your target is dead ahead, a mile away but so close you can almost taste it. Just past the dining table and straight on till morning. 

Despite your snail’s pace, no one seems to notice you shuffling your way across the house. It should make you upset, the fact that none of them notice you moving around, but instead it makes you glad. They’d try to stop you if they noticed you, turn you around and shuffle you back to bed. Or worse, they’d carry you. 

How easily you could slip away, though. 

Well...in theory. 

Perhaps that’s why they ‘re not paying you any mind. How far could you really go in your current state? 

Why would you want to stray from the only safe space you have? 

The world outside is more dangerous with the state you’re in. Not just because of your injuries and your status, but also because you know Shepherd is still out there, and for all you know Graves is as well. 

He could be waiting right outside the door. 

No. 

They’d know. 

They’d protect you. 

They failed. 

You push past the fear in favor of certainty as you push forward, passing the dining table in your slow crawl towards the sliding glass door. 

It poses an entirely new threat as you stand before it, staring out the darkened glass. You have to get it open. Getting it open takes strength and you’re down to one hand that’s trying to keep you upright. 

You have to know. 

You have to be certain. 

You lean your weight on the crutch, ignoring the way it digs into your armpit as you reach for the handle. You click the lock, wrapping your fingers around the plastic before pulling. Your body screams with pain as you tug, the door sliding in the track as slowly as you had moved across the small living area. It’s almost as if it's mocking you. 

It’s open only as wide as you need to crutch your way through, doing your best not to knock your left shoulder against the frame. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

Breathe. 

You can smell it. 

The salty sea air invades your senses, slipping up through your nose and straight into your brain. Memories come flooding back of childhood vacations back when things were simpler. Back when nothing mattered but the sand and the water and avoiding getting chased by your brothers carrying the piece of seaweed they found. 

Polkadot bathing suits, bright red to be seen easily. Toes in the water, sand everywhere. The nap in the silent car home. 

How simple life was back then. How easy life was. 

Your heart aches for those days again. The days when you could exist without a care in the world, trusting your pack would keep you safe, trusting your family would care for you. Your mind yearns for that sense of safety and security again. 

The world is grey as you hobble across the porch, the grey seeming to go on forever. You missed it, the chill in the air, the gloomy grey overhead. How you yearned for the gloom of England while stuck in the heat of Texas. 

Anything is better than Texas. 

Your forward shuffle pauses at the edge of the deck, your eyes looking out into the grey. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare out into the distance, the ache in your chest intensifying. It blocks out the pain in your body, numbing you to everything else as you stand there, legs trembling from the effort of going the short distance from your room to the end of the porch. 

You can see it. 

Emotions swirl inside of you like a hurricane as you stare out where the grey water meets the grey sky in the line of the horizon. Those emotions threaten to choke you as you stand there trembling at the edge of the porch. There’s a breeze, a cold one that bites through the fabric of your sweatshirt and into the skin below, but you don’t care. 

You can’t care. 

Your legs shake from the exertion, the neverending exhaustion that’s settled deep into your bones. It’s not just a physical exhaustion, but a mental one as well. It’s been a long week. 

Only a week. 

So much has happened in a week. 

You want to sit. You want to sink down onto the porch and rest. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

There’s a pain in your chest as your breath catches in your throat. The emotions are whirling, tightening around your chest, squeezing your lungs until they feel like they might pop. 

Breathe. 

In and out. 

You needed certainty. You needed to know. 

You can hear it. You can smell it. You can see it. 

A single tear rolls down your cheek as you stare out at the sea. 

NEXT ->

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[thou-hast-now-a-bosom-companion]

i don't want to see Wyll cut off Ulder because he sucked as a father and deserved better as a 17 year old who was scared and alone and desperate to do the right thing with the immense pressure of not just his father, the man he idolized, but also The Entire Nobility of the city he loved bearing down on him.

i want to see them sit down on a bench overlooking the sea, somewhere they once spent every spare day (however few they may have been as time went on and Duty Called) Ulder had available bonding over training or fishing or listening to music or whatever else they enjoyed doing together.

i want them to have half-started and never-finished conversations about how Ulder failed, and how he wants to make up for it, and how much grief he holds over everything. about how many nights after his exile Wyll spent crying and screaming about how unfair it was and how "if he'd just listened to me." about how Wyll deserved better and Ulder should've known better but they can't go back and do it over again.

i want them to talk about Wyll's mother and who she was and why Ulder loved her and how he never really recovered from her death. and how bittersweet it is to look at Wyll - not because he blames his son for his wife's death, but because Wyll has her laugh and wears his hair the way she wore hers when they first met and it reminds Ulder of the woman he knew and loved and wishes so so so bad Wyll had also known and loved. of the woman he's certain would have protected Wyll from her husband's misplaced judgement.

i want Ulder to try and fail and succeed and fail and succeed and try over and over again to be the father Wyll deserves Now as an adult who's quite literally been through All The Hells and has the horns and claws and glowing red eye to prove it. and for Wyll to step away and back and away and back over and over again because he knows he wants His Father but he doesn't know what that means after everything they've been through.

i want to see the Ravengards learn to be father and son again and be able to laugh with and cry with and talk with and genuinely trust each other.

Wyll deserves to have a father who loves him and who has the humility and honor to listen to him and respect him and learn How to be the father he needs.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Short Stories:

Limerence (Prequel)

Yandere Rebellion Leader x Princess Reader

TW: Yandere behaviors, mentions of past SA (on yandere’s part), murder, death, blood, a man slaughtering your entire family to be with you, etc

(Your name) quietly sobbed into her knees, her body curled tightly into a ball on the floor of her closet. The loud screams of the servants ring out through the hallways. Not a single doubt in her mind that the castle staff were being slain like cattle by the rebel troops.

When did everything go wrong? Would she soon join the rest of the castle’s inhabitants when the troops inevitably found her? Would they be merciful or would they gut her like a fish?

(Your name) didn’t want to think about it too much… she just hoped her death would be quick and painless.

Crack! Slam! Her door was splintered apart with brute force that made the closet doors shake. (Your name) quickly covered her mouth before she screamed out in fear. She didn’t want to alert the intruder of her whereabouts…

(Your name)’s breath hitched when she spotted a pair of leather shoes that stood outside the closet door through the crack of the door. Oh god… this was it.

(Your name)’s arms flew up to shield her face but strong hands quickly moved her arms out of the way so soft lips could be lovingly pressed against her soft cheeks.

“It’s okay… it’s me.” A smooth voice hummed softly while he continued to pepper (your name)’s face in kisses. “It’s Adonis.”

(Your name) reluctantly peeked her eyes open to see if his words rang true. Adonis’s chocolate curls were wild and his sea foam green eyes were filled with admiration. This was indeed her handsome childhood friend who stood before her.

“A-Adonis?” (Your name)’s brow furrowed in confusion. Why on earth was her stepmother’s personal servant here and why did he press kisses all over her like she was his lover? Didn’t he belong to her stepmother?

Adonis hummed in reply, his actions failed to cease while his hands now cupped her cheeks. “Yes, darling. It’s me… I’m here to get you out of here.”

(Your name) was shocked to be pulled into a warm embrace. Adonis’s muscular body did little to soothe her nerves, quite contrary. Adonis’s hug felt like a cage.

“Where’s my stepmother-“ (your name) nearly squealed when Adonis nipped at her neck. An angry red mark now visible on her smooth skin. “Adonis, what was that for-“

“She’s not in the picture anymore.” Adonis inhaled deeply to try to calm himself before he lashed out any further from the mention of his despicable mistress. “She interfered in our relationship for far too long.”

Relationship? What was Adonis talking about?

“Adonis?” (Your name) then noticed the speckles of blood that covered his tan face in shock. Blood?! Adonis wasn’t bleeding so whose blood could that be… no. Did this mean Adonis betrayed the royal family?

No… Adonis had been with her family for over a decade. They grew up together! Adonis and her were always such good friends! So why would he slaughter her family in the name of love?

“I love when you say my name, darling.” Adonis bent down and pressed his full lips against yours in a tender peck. “We no longer have to worry about what others think. I abolished this unfair system.”

(Your name) felt tears run down her face as Adonis continued to ramble. His sea foam green eyes lit up with madness. “We don’t have to sneak around anymore! You and I can finally be together, the way we were always meant to be.”

Realization sunk into (your name) at Adonis’s words. Did he mean the moments the two of them would run into each other in the rose garden at night? The nights where she’d have nightmares of fire and death while he would be slipping out of her stepmother’s chambers? The times she’d sit beside him on the bench and listen to each other’s woes? Adonis and (your name) always had a friendship since they were children… to think he interpreted her kindness for love was astounding. What on earth made him think she loved him?

“I’m so happy to finally be free. I no longer have to touch that vile woman ever again.” Adonis gave you a bright smile. “You were my shining light through this entire ordeal of my servitude. Without you, I’d be so lost.”

Adonis pulled her towards the window of her tower to gesture to the various fires set ablaze on the castle she once called home. The same scenery she often saw in her nightmares have become a reality.

“I destroyed it all. You’ll no longer have nightmares and I’ll no longer have to be intimate with our enemy!” Adonis gave you a bright smile when he took your smaller hands in his large ones. “This is the biggest gesture I can give you to express my utmost feelings to you. I’d set the whole world ablaze if they opposed us. It doesn’t matter the extreme, because I’m willing to go to any length to be with you.”

[thewriterg]

mr and mrs ‘let me do it’

A/n; I haven’t wrote for marvel in so long… anyhow, headcanons because I can and I want to

warning(s): both miles are stubborn in their own ways, mrs independent woman reader, slithers of mama Rio, a little bickering, mentions of social norms, pet names, rusty spanish, and language l

earth 1610 miles! who’s love language is acts of service, —as well as physical touch— in which it literally makes him go insane when you don’t let him do something for you. drastic or mundane you volunteer yourself everytime and he hates it

earth 1610 miles! who has to learn to somewhat bully his way into doing things for you… you guys sitting together during lunch and you forgot to get utensils? before you can even swing your leg over the bench of the cafeteria table he’s already up walking back to the cart that carries condiments, napkins, plastic packaged utensils and things of the sort

earth 1610 miles! where you both turn it into a little competition on who can help the other one more. you ask him to hold your phone so you can tie your shoe? that’s cute, meanwhile he fully gets down on one knee and ties them for you. Oh, his dorm is messy and he can’t find his notes he needed to finish over the weekend back home? meanwhile, your in your own room copying down what you you wrote from your notes filled with scribblings of words onto his semi empty notebook.

earth 1610 miles! who likes to do something to make your life a little easier no matter how big or small. your about to have a study session and you ran to the bathroom? guess who taking all the text books and notes out of your bag so you don’t have to rummage thought it? Well miles of course :)

earth 1610 miles! who loves you because you think about him and your actions really show it. he had to patrol and couldn’t watch the new episode of his favorite super hero, guess who recorded the who thing start to finish so he could watch it in his down time?

earth 1610 miles! who is in a healthy happy competition of completing services for one another with you because “Te amo aunque seas terco, mi vida.”

ミ★ミ★ミ★

earth 42 miles! who is quite literally wont take no for an answer. it got to a point where he would just start doing things for you instead of asking. you look like you’re carrying too many bags on your mini splurge at the mall? welp now you’re carrying NOTHING.

earth 42 miles! where you both grew up around the social norm of ‘the man should pay for dates with a woman’ and rather he knew it or not, miles subconsciously adapted it into his life. you on the other hand couldn’t call bull shit fast enough to save your life. however, while miles really did value your core beliefs he couldn’t really be bothered to break the habit. he wasn’t wealthy per say, but he had enough to simultaneously spoil you with things as well as help his mom with necessities.

earth 42 miles! who mutters a “watch out ma” when you even try and reach for your purse to pay for ANYTHING. total of $8.67 at the bodega trying to get snacks for your movie night? “I got it.” total of $78.92 after having appetizers, meals, and dessert? “I got it.” $250 to go get some self care done “I got it.”

earth 42 miles! that gets you so frustrated that you guys start to have petty arguments that mama Rio doesn’t stand for. yes you’re lovers, but she will still make you hug in the oversized, OVERSIZED, tshirt until you figure it out like you’re siblings.

earth 42 miles! who you have to learn just loves that way and if you want a change you have to force it yourself. the look he gave you when you came back from the “restroom” on your next weekly date having found out when he waived down your waiter that the meal was already paid for was priceless and so was the small twitch of his lips upward at the bright, proud look on your face.

©2024 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[amywritesthings]

press four for more options. | part four.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 4.6k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), sex work, pet names, alcohol, mentions of drugs, jokes about death Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part three. / return to part one. | masterlist

Night comes around.

You do not call.

In fact, you don't call the Scout Services Hotline a single time that whole weekend.

As you scroll mindlessly through social media in your bed, fluttering between apps without retaining a single word or meme, your cell phone weighs heavily in your hand.

Don't call.

Just don't call.

It isn't like you're devoid of things to do.

Going out is an option.

Being around people may help your mood — but you don’t feel like unearthing from your snuggie poncho.

Putting on a movie can be a great distraction — but you know your attention span would barely last through the opening credits.

It was him.

Right there.

Right in front of you.

Levi from Scout Services, alive and in the flesh, holding your phone.

No amount of mental gymnastics can make you doubt otherwise. 

He has a voice like no other; one that haunts your day dreams and soothes your nightmares, one that brings this sudden urge to do better for yourself—

Ironically, to be independent and strong on your own.

Which, actually, really fucking sucks now that you’re stuck with the decision to totally disappear from the gym, too.

(Kind of thwarts the whole ‘new me’ chest-puffing you’d started Friday with.)

So you make a final decision:

You still have to go to the gym Saturday, Sunday, and Monday.

Even if you say nothing, keep to yourself, remain a shadow, you have to go.

(There’s a fragile line drawn in the sands of reality. You can toe the edge, but you refuse to. This is his livelihood. You’re not delusional to believe you’re a main character exception.)

Coincidentally, Levi goes every day, too. 

Your stomach flip-flops with the unsettling realization that your perch on a treadmill actually gives you a perfect vantage point to watch him as he sets his station up every morning.

Meticulously he sets towels down to place his shaker bottle and water thermos down, as if worried the ground hadn’t been cleaned overnight.

He even takes the disinfectant cloths and cleans every dumbbell he lines up neatly before starting his workout.

The dark-haired man truly is less-than-average in height, which isn’t a turn-off to you in the slightest, but his arms — his goddamn arms.

Levi wasn’t kidding when he told you that he could pick you up.

He could probably pick two of you up, one arm each.

They’re so toned, his forearms veiny from morning dehydration.

Training vigorously in his own world, not once does he notice that you’re the bumbling idiot that’s tripped on the treadmill (see: a few times) from dissociating.

Hell, he hasn’t a single fucking clue that you’re close enough to yell across the room to him.

Would he know?

That you’re Scarlet.

His, in some made-up world.

(Does your voice stand out in a sea of lonely people?)

The cleaning ritual extends to his cooldown, where he properly cleans each piece of equipment before nestling it back in its place.

Levi sits on his phone for a second, dropping down to a bench to scroll — text messages.

(Damn it, have you really resorted to minor stalking?)

As soon as he stands, though, you drop your chin to watch your sneakers rhythmically pass one another on the treadmill belt.

He passes like a ghost, evaporating into the men’s locker room without a word.

This is torture.

You miss him.

But you still refuse to call.

Can't — because in another world you may be his, but in this world, he is not yours.

.

.

— —

.

.

    Tuesday night rolls around and you decide you hate life.

Annie, Eren, Reiner, and Mikasa are already there by the time you walk into the downtown hotspot.

The boys as well as Mikasa are still in their suit attire from work, their ties loosened at their necks. Annie’s in a hoodie and jeans, clearly much more interested in having a comfortable evening.

If the emptied shot glasses are any indicator of the plans for this evening, then you steel yourself for one hell of a Wednesday.

You glide through the busy crowds of the bar towards the group.

Bodies upon bodies crowd this place — it’s never not a zoo at this hour, no matter the day. Saying excuse me would only waste breath. 

A live band croons on the far end of the smoky bar, forcing everyone to talk ten decibels higher just to hear the conversation.

(Can’t you turn around and go home while you’re ahead?)

In the sea of people, a pair of emerald green eyes over by a cluster of tables in the right-hand corner catch your movement. They widen, recognizing your face, and a lopsided grin of surprise follows.

“Holy shit, she left her cave!” Eren yells, holding up a cheap beer in salute to your arrival.

(Thanks Jeager, you little fuck.)

You don’t hear what she says, but you can see Mikasa’s lips part in tandem with a sharp elbow jab straight to his ribs.

Eren instantly falters his salute, souring in pain.

“I know. Don’t be so shocked,” you state to your colleagues, leaning up against the circular high-top table. “Am I the last to show?”

“Nah, you’re right on time. Armin and Jean’re on their way,” Reiner grunts, holding onto a comically small cosmopolitan in his rather large hand. “Sasha’s on babysitting duty with Nicco.”

You look around the bar for any other familiar faces.

“And Connie?”

“Passed out,” Mikasa supplies. “Took edibles after work.”

“There’s no chance in hell anyone’s waking him,” Eren snorts. “Fucker’s toast.”

Reiner sighs. “For what it’s worth, Jean tried.”

“No, Armin tried,” Annie corrects, finally piping up. She holds something on the rocks — brandy? Whiskey? You can’t tell. “Jean just laughed and kept trying to draw shit on his face.”

“You didn’t see the Snapchat he sent?” Eren asks after a gulp of his beer.

You shake your head, knowing damn well you’ve avoided using your phone for the last several days. 

Missed texts, abandoned tagged tweets, your streak in your mobile game ruined — anything so you wouldn’t be tempted to click that little number.

Damn it.

Enough wallowing.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink,” you state, disengaging with the table. “Anyone need anything?”

From your peripheral, you see a familiar mop of blonde hair walking towards your group. At his side is a much taller man sliding through the crowd, navigating the shorter one to the tiny table you’ve commandeered from the masses.

Armin and Jean.

Reiner and Annie shake their heads.

“Nope, I’m solid.”

“Good here.”

“Eren’s got the next round of shots,” Mikasa flatly states. “You’re fine.”

“Ha, hell yeah!” Eren exclaims, before he settles into a confused pause of silence. His head whips to Mikasa, blinking twice. “Wait, what?”

You don’t stick around for that aftermath.

Squeezing back into the lion’s den of people, you try not to get hit with any too-full beverages or waving hands.

You manage to weave and duck, eventually finding a small empty corner at the edge of the bar.

Success.

You rush to claim it before someone else can, your forearm on the wooden surface. 

Holding up two fingers to get the one of the three bartender’s attention, she nods once to acknowledge she sees you — she’ll get there eventually.

Two empty stools are available, so you scoot onto the one closest to the wall while waiting for your turn and drop your purse onto the other while you situate yourself. 

It’ll likely take a while if the busyness of the staff has anything to say about it.

An hour.

All you need to do is last one whole hour.

Chat a bit, mingle a little so everyone at work doesn’t think you’re a total goddamn recluse, then you can go—

“Is this seat taken?”

A question sounding to your left breaks your train of thought.

The seat.

The one next to you, where your purse lay.

Way to go, dumbass.

You answer on autopilot, not thinking twice about it.

“Oh — shit, yeah. I mean, no! No it’s not. I’m sorry.”

As your torso turns to grab your purse off of the deep red stool, your eyes drop to make sure nothing spills out of it.

“Hold on, let me just move—”

Your chin lifts to find yourself staring eye to eye with Levi.

Wait.

Levi?!

His cheekbones look even sharper under the warm hue of the bar lights overhead, lips parted like he was interrupted in asking a question.

The whites of his eyes grow more prominent with every passing second, making the blue-gray color of them stand out in stark contrast to the black curtain of fringe falling against his temples.

The realization that you spoke — that he’s seen your face before — seems to be hitting him like a goddamn freight train.

Your blood runs cold as your own eyes round.

“...my stuff.”

Weakly you finish your thought, wishing for nothing but death right now. 

Maybe a stranger, like a secret agent with wicked strength, will simply rush the bar and put you in a headlock and knock you out. 

Maybe your drink will be poisoned. 

You’re happy for anything so long as it’s swift.

Levi grunts in acknowledgement, slowly finding a spot on the empty stool beside yours.

Both of you swivel towards the bar, staring ahead.

Silence.

For what feels like hours, neither of you speak. The noise of the bar becomes overwhelming.

Somehow the surrounding voices feel amplified when you’ve lost your own. 

It’s trapped between a thousand apologies and half a dozen explanations that sound worse than the one before it.

You need to get up.

Excuse yourself out. 

Leave.

You won’t get your damn drink, but that’s fine so long as you’re not here.

“How’s your phone?”

Eventually Levi speaks, and you find yourself wishing he hadn’t. 

The effect of his voice is even worse in person — so buttery smooth, the gravel much deeper in his chest now that there isn’t a phone receiver to dilute it.

“Not… damaged,” you reply cautiously.

“Good.”

Another stretch of silence passes, and you forget about ordering drinks altogether.

Your eyes drop to view his folded hands, how the veins protrude even when resting.

His fingers are slender, strong, and hate yourself for yearning.

You have to apologize.

This is crossing a line.

You need to—

“So—”

“I’m canceling my subscription.”

You blurt a fraction later than Levi, proclaiming your innocence before he can ever condemn it.

When you meet his steely eyes, they squint with curiosity.

From the crown of your head to your chin, he assesses in a serpentine pattern before eventually finding your eyes once more.

“How come?” he asks, leaning further against the bar top.

“I— how come?”

You repeat his question in surprise.

Wildly gesturing towards the space between you with your hand, you snort.

“Uh, because that’s the right thing to do in this circumstance? Because seeing you in person is borderline unethical?”

He hums at that, not giving you much to work with.

“And for the record, I did not stalk you to this bar.”

“Didn’t think you did.”

“I’m actually here with friends—”

“Why didn’t you say something?” 

Levi interrupts, seemingly unbothered by your rambling. 

“At the gym. I can make an educated guess and say you knew it was me from the second I opened my trap, but you didn’t say anything.”

Why isn’t he freaking out?

Shouldn’t he be freaking out?

Just as you open your mouth to continue professing your innocence, the bartender walks over and points to you.

“What can I get you?”

You blanch, no longer remember how to order drinks. 

“I—”

“I got her tab,” Levi interrupts casually, tapping his index finger into the counter. “Two hard seltzers.”

Then he has the audacity to glance your way.

“Pineapple, right?”

Holy shit, he remembers your favorite flavor?

Is this a flex?

(It kind of feels like a flex; a way to say I know you, I was there.)

“...pineapple’s fine,” you murmur in return, hesitant.

The bartender doesn’t waste another second to rummage in the mini fridge on the other side of the bar for two slim cans.

For another agonizing thirty seconds, neither of you say a word.

He raises his chin to watch whatever sport’s game is playing overhead on the television.

You stare at your mirrored reflection in the bar backsplash.

This is real life.

The man you’ve spent hours talking to over the phone to, getting off to, is sitting right beside you, yet he isn’t trying to create distance.

If anything, he’s buying you a damn drink and asking you why.

Why didn’t you say something?

“I didn’t say anything at the gym because that would have been extremely inappropriate,” you finally argue under your breath, keeping the conversation strictly between you. “What would I have said? ‘Oh hey, guy I've paid to talk to on the phone every single night for the past week. Isn’t it crazy that I actually go to the same gym as you?’ That’s so creepy.” 

When he says nothing, still staring at you, you continue to bury yourself into a deeper grave.

“I mean, I thought you lived, like… a billion miles from me. Maybe from another planet.”

His brows pinch with amusement. 

“On Mars, or…?”

Oh.

He’s joking.

He’s actually joking about this.

You turn your chin, brow furrowed. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, and you have to force yourself to maintain eye contact.

“I wondered why you looked so scared of me on Friday. Thought maybe I smelled like shit from my workout.”

No, you want to say. Unfortunately it was the goddamn opposite.

“So you’re not…”

“Worried you’re a stalker trying to dox me because of my job?”

Levi blatantly finishes, and you wince.

Clearly he notices your embarrassment, because he sighs and relaxes his shoulders.

“I’m more pissed that you didn’t call all weekend, but then again, that’s the nature of the job.”

You both watch each other for a moment as the bartender returns, passing you both pineapple hard seltzers to nurse.

He pushes your can to your hand, nudging the icy-cold aluminum against your thumb, then picks up his own.

“The nature of the job?” you repeat, and he nods.

“People get bored. Run out of funds. Novelty wears off fast.” 

Levi shrugs, sipping his drink. 

“Just because you like talking to someone doesn’t mean they stick around. Wouldn’t blame 'em — shit gets expensive quick.”

“I just…”

You trail off, fighting to find the correct words to say.

“...I thought it wasn’t right to call again, knowing I knew what you looked like, so I didn’t.” 

Explaining yourself makes your tongue feel sluggish, like you were caught red-handed in a crime you didn’t know you’d committed until hindsight.

“I can leave you alone,” you decide to add, holding your drink tighter. “Like I said, I’m here with my friends and… after all, you were doing your job. A great job. You’re kind of the reason I’m even here in the first place.”

Levi’s brow knits, and your eyes widen.

“Not like that!”

“Pretty shit at asserting yourself even in person,” he murmurs like it’s a cheeky inside joke, and he sips once more. “So how am I the reason?”

He’s not angry.

Hell, he’s conversational.

Not the least bit worried about how you’ve both managed to get here.

Might as well be honest.

“Because I decided to stop being a little less scared of the world,” you confess softly. “It— That’s why I got to the gym so early on Friday. I wanted to start doing strength training, like how you talk about how much you love it. And… I thought, maybe, I’d spend more time with friends. Get out there more. Be more assertive — beyond right now, obviously.”

The dark-haired man’s expression smooths at that in a mixture of recognition and surprise.

The slide of his brow is beautiful, and your heart squeezes at the sight of an animated Levi in the flesh, just as you pictured.

“Do you have to go back to your friends right now?”

At first you don’t quite register his question, but then it causes butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

He looks left to right, as if trying to find your troop of buddies, before returning his attention back to you.

“You don’t… want me to leave?”

Levi shakes his head.

You feel bolted to your stool, unable to move even if you wanted to.

Simultaneously you sip your drinks, keeping eye contact.

It feels intimate.

Too intimate.

“So, then…” You start slowly. “What does this mean?”

“Well,” Levi begins, mulling it over in his head. “Means the whole provider-client relationship has basically gone to shit. You know my face, now I know yours.”

“Right.”

“Then again, that professionalism was already well into a shit pile way before Friday morning.”

You blink, not following. “Huh?”

“There’s nothing in the company policy about what to do when you stumble into your client at the damn local gym, but there sure as hell wasn’t anything about…”

Levi trails off, clenching his jaw in debate.

“...about crossing the line I practically leapt over. I’m good at my job because of my detachment, but this was the only time I bordered on unethical myself. That wasn’t fair to you, and I’m sorry.”

Sorry.

Levi… was sorry?

The words blurt faster than you can stop yourself. “Why the hell are you sorry?”

His eyes widen with a budding uncertainty.

“I… just said I crossed the line?”

“When?”

“On the phone?”

“Okay, duh, but when?”

“Our last session.”

“So that was real.”

Levi actually got off to your voice.

If you weren’t in such shock about sitting here face-to-face with him at a local bar, then perhaps your ego would have, in fact, made a crash landing on Mars.

He considers his next words very carefully. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be.”

Then he sips more before shaking his head.

“Look. It’s… a job a friend of mine got me. I’m not a real-life Casanova or any of that shit. Hell, most of my time was spent training punks to fight in a boxing ring, so I never had the energy for relationships or dating.”

You can't hide your surprise. “You were a fighter?”

He makes a noncommittal face.

“Loosely. Personal trainer, training in general — fell into it after I got out of the service.”

“Right, you were in the army,” you murmur, and the edge of his lips upticks at your recollection.

“A couple of months ago the gym I worked for went under, money got tight, so I thought I’d try it out. Guess everyone says it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks, but bossing fighters around and fielding horny-ass callers ain't all that different."

Levi turns his chin just so to regard you under a wispy black fringe.

“I can usually predict what someone wants. The people that call this hotline shit, they’re in and out."

He takes a pause.

"You, though — the second I picked up your call, you threw me through a goddamn loop.”

You use your nail on your index finger to absently scratch the side of your thumb, attempting to process everything he’s telling you.

"First night we spoke, actually, I ended up at this very bar to contemplate why the fuck I wanted you to call back. Didn't want you blowing your money on it, obviously, it's overpriced and ridiculous, but — it clearly shook me up enough for me to take then ten-minute walk in the middle of the night in the first place."

Ten minutes.

That length of time strikes something in you.

“So, your… office building isn’t far?” you slowly ask.

Levi shakes his head. “No, no office. I work remotely. Kind of the reason why I took the gig in the first place. I wouldn’t do this shit if I had an audience in a damn two-by-four cube.”

You’re not sure what possesses you to confess it, but you point past your shoulder. 

“My apartment complex is actually six blocks down the street.”

Ten minutes away, is your implication.

His hand had raised to sip from his seltzer can, but it halts immediately.

His eyes narrow. 

“The complex on Junction Ave?”

“Yeah," you say.

“Right across from—”

“The Reiss deli.”

That narrowed gaze shoots wide. “You’re shitting me.”

“You say the word shit a lot.”

“Baby, I live there,” he blurts.

“Wait, what?”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to nearly pop out of your skull.

(You’re too shocked to even process what he called you.)

He huffs in a brief laugh, shaking his head.

“You gotta be fucking with me.”

“I’m not! Wait, you live in the same building as me?”

“You said Thomas was your goddamn mailman,” Levi states. “Do you know how many fucking Thomas the Mailmen there are in this world? I didn’t think we’d have the same one.”

Holy shit.

Oh, holy shit.

You sit up taller in your seat. “Wait, what floor?”

“Sixteenth.”

“I’m on the tenth!” you exclaim in your shock. “Holy shit, so you…”

Have been right above me this entire time.

Your phone buzzes, ruining your train of thought. 

Reflexively you look down to see the preview of Annie’s message over your lock screen.

[A. LEONHART]: Did u die?

Right.

You’re here with friends.

“Friends wondering where you are?” Levi inquiries at the sight of your growing frown.

“Yeah, give me a sec.”

You swipe the screen north and type a reply.

[ME]: Talking to someone. Be over in a bit.

Annie’s reply is immediate, and you turn your phone from Levi’s view in mortification.

[A. LEONHART]: 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆

[A. LEONHART]: WINGMAN??? NEED????

[ME]: NO! Do not come over here!

[A. LEONHART]: ok ok ok noted

[A. LEONHART]: i’ll keep jaeger to the left end of the bar

“Looks urgent.”

“Huh?” 

You shoot a glance back up to Levi, who’s now angled towards you with his cheek squished against his clenched fist. His elbow props him up on the bar top. 

“No! No. It’s just my friend Annie. She — is actually the one who gave me the number to that hotline in the first place,” you confess.

Levi hums in that delicious way you’ve come to crave. 

“I don’t want to derail your evening. I’ve already taken you away from them for a while.”

Your heart is hesitant, but it grows despite yourself. 

“If you want me to stay, then I’ll stay,” you quietly state. “I… liked talking to you. I mean, beyond the whole — you know.”

He nods once, setting his drink down. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t want you to disappear, either. My job’s not exactly corporate. Not many people can separate fantasy from reality. With you, I never had to bullshit what it was, but…”

Levi trails off, sighing heavily.

“...but I also understand if it’s just a fantasy, for you.”

Something nestles itself between the lines of his words. 

Something he isn’t saying outright, sussing out if he has any right to try.

“Do you really mean that, Levi?”

That sigh turns into a curbed huff, smile fleeting but enough to bring your stomach butterflies. 

“Damn. Sounds nice, hearing my name in person.”

Oh, sweet Jesus.

You could scream into your damn seltzer, but you decide to play it as cool as you possibly can.

“So Levi’s your real name?”

He nods.

“Not creative enough to come up with an alias."

Levi shifts, rolling out a shoulder.

"But to answer your question, I’m saying I… yeah, I mean it. I wouldn’t mind asking you out for coffee sometime, given we seem to run on the same gym schedule as it is. Just didn’t know if you wanted to leave it at the hotline and call it a day — no pun intended.”

Are you seriously hearing what he’s saying right now?

Does Levi want to step out of a fantasy and into your reality?

Your lips part with a million questions only to end up blurting a very stupid one: 

“Are you single?”

That earns a bark of a laugh, causing his head to gloriously drop back, exposing his neck.

(All you want to do is sink your teeth into it.)

“Yes. Very,” he promises. “Are you, still?”

“Very,” you promise back.

“And my job doesn’t bother you?”

You haven't quite gotten that far, logistically, but it's only a coffee.

He isn't asking to marry you.

Besides, he talks about it like any other office job. You can't find any ill feeling toward it.

“Work is work,” you argue with a one-shoulder shrug. “Sure, it’s unconventional, but… I’m so used to not knowing what I want, or second-guessing what’s good for me, and I don’t think I’ve ever second guessed a damn thing with you.”

Bringing the seltzer back up to his mouth, Levi smirks against the can, mulling something over. 

You smile in return, sipping your drink.

It's the truth.

He may not really know you, but he knows you.

Just as you're beginning to think you know him.

“Well, if you don’t get too wasted with your friends tonight—”

He steals a ballpoint pen from a dampened closed check from his left side.

Then he snatches a napkin from one of the bartending stations with lemons, limes, and straws.

Hunching over, he scribbles on said napkin, before turning a cheek to you.

“—and you end up going to the gym tomorrow morning—”

Levi then sits up taller, folds the napkin, and reaches for your hand resting on the bar top. 

His skin is smooth. 

Heated. 

Your entire body melts to his whim as he turns your wrist over, palm facing up.

One by one his fingers unfurl your fingers, nestles the napkin in your hand, then closes your fist for safe keeping.

“—give me a call.”

Leaving a twenty on the bar counter, Levi lets go of your hand to slip off of his stool.

You say nothing as you watch him give you one last once-over, expression full of admiration, before turning into the sea of people.

A call.

Flexing your hand, you uncrinkle the napkin to read the number etched black on white.

Not the Scout Services Hotline.

No — his number.

Your attention flies back to the original spot where you've now properly abandoned your friends, but you know they'll forgive you for your absence.

Annie knows.

She'll cover for your abrupt disappearance.

On autopilot you yank out your phone, bypassing the texts from your friends, emails from work, and tap the little telephone icon.

Zero through nine appear.

Hastily you type the number, hesitation long gone, and press send.

One ring.

Two.

By the third, it abruptly cuts. You hear shuffling in the background. Cars beeping.

“Hello, Levi Ackerman speaking.”

Levi Ackerman.

Knowing his full name warms your heart.

Standing from your stool, you rise to your toes to search the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Levi stands there on the sidewalk, holding his phone up to his ear.

“Hi, Levi. It’s formerly Scarlet.”

Immediately he turns to the bar, searching the very same window.

Searching for you.

You smile to yourself.

"My schedule just opened up. I know it's a little late for some coffee, but..."

Trailing off, your teeth catch your bottom lip.

Be selfish.

"Are you free for some tea now?”

.

FIN

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

How are we feeling, Hotliner Nation? I teased that this may not be the end of this story. I'm not against writing a sequel, whether to continue the immediate story or time skip, but I wanted to see what people thought before I spoke too soon. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed our hotline journey together.

In the meantime I invite you to follow me here or subscribe to my AO3, as I have other projects in the works (including finishing the final chapters of my canon-based amnesia au with Levi, Silver Underground.)

The last two months have been such a wonderful journey, and I thank every single one of you for engaging the way you have. I never anticipated such a frenzy when I started P4, so sincerely, from the bottom of my heart - thank you for the comments, reblogs, inbox mssgs, etc. Every reblog gives this writer wings.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Toto Wolff with wife reader. Her being mother to the young drivers on the grid, well literally everyone and their son, Jack was adored by them all. He would always find her with the company of drivers and have to steal her away even for a kiss(es). Thanks!! :))

Hii guys I hope you enjoy my take on this request :)

People would often assume that Toto Wolff is the most popular Wolff on the paddock, him being Mercedes's team principal, but they couldn't be more far from the truth.

Toto sighed deeply, rubbing his temples as he scanned the busy paddock. It had been a long day, and all he wanted was to find his wife and spend some time together. But you were nowhere to be found, and that was starting to worry him.

"Jack, have you seen your mom? I can't seem to find her anywhere in the motorhome," Toto asked, his voice tinged with frustration.

Jack, his son, shook his head. "No, Dad. I've also been looking for her. The last time I saw her, she told me someone had requested her on the paddock." Jack’s face mirrored his father’s frustration. “She’s been all over the place today. It’s like everyone wants her time!”

Toto frowned, his brow furrowing with concern. "Alright, let’s start asking around. Someone must have seen her." He put a reassuring hand on Jack's shoulder and they headed towards the nearest person they could find—George Russell, who was chatting with some engineers by the Mercedes garage.

“Hey, George!” Toto called out, his accent thick with concern. “Have you seen my wife?”

George looked up, smiling. “Yeah, I saw her earlier. She was with Alex and Lily over by the Williams motorhome. They seemed to be having a good laugh about something.”

Toto nodded, thanking George, and he and Jack quickly made their way over to the Williams area. As they approached, they spotted Alex Albon leaning against the wall, his girlfriend Lily close by.

“Alex! Lily!” Jack called out. “Have you seen my mom? George said she was with you guys.”

Alex grinned, looking sheepish. “Oh, yeah! We were just talking to her about some fun paddock stories. But then the McLaren boys came over and whisked her away. They said they needed her opinion on something. You know how they are!”

Toto let out a small chuckle. Your friendly nature and warm personality made you incredibly popular with everyone. "Thanks, Alex," he said, giving a nod to Lily as well.

With a determined stride, Toto and Jack moved towards the McLaren motorhome. They were greeted by the sight of Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri playfully bantering by the entrance.

“Lando! Oscar!” Toto called, waving them over. “Have you seen my wife?”

Lando grinned widely. “Oh, Mrs. Wolff? Yeah, she was here just a minute ago. We were showing her some of our latest memes, but then Carlos showed up and said he needed her help with some media stuff.”

Jack groaned playfully. “Ugh, are we ever going to catch up to her?”

Oscar laughed. “Sorry, Jack! Your mom’s just too popular! But if you hurry, you might catch them over at Ferrari.”

Toto thanked them and led Jack towards the Ferrari garage, the bright red unmistakable in the sea of colors around the paddock. As they approached, they saw Carlos Sainz laughing with a group of engineers, but you were nowhere in sight.

“Carlos!” Toto called, a bit out of breath. “Where’s my wife? The boys said you had her over here.”

Carlos turned, a charming smile on his face. “Ah, Mr Wolff! Yes, she was here helping me out, but then Charles came by with Alexandra and asked if she could join them for a bit. Something about needing some advice on their dog, Leo.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Of course, Leo! Mom can never resist a dog.”

Toto chuckled, ruffling Jack’s hair. “Alright, looks like we’re off to find Charles then.”

Finally, they made their way to a quieter area of the paddock where they spotted Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend Alexandra sitting on a bench. Next to them, you were kneeling on the ground, happily playing with Leo, their playful dog.

“Mom!” Jack called out, rushing towards you.

You looked up, surprised but smiling brightly. “There you two are! I was wondering when you’d catch up.”

Toto sighed in relief, a smile spreading across his face as he watched Jack throw his arms around you. "There you are, my love. Do you have any idea how hard it was to find you?”

You laughed softly, standing up and brushing off your jeans. “I’m sorry, Toto! Everyone just seemed to need me for something today. But it was all fun!”

Charles grinned, giving a nod to Toto. “Sorry for keeping her so long. We just got caught up talking about dogs, and you know how it goes.”

Alexandra smiled, giving Leo a pat. “She’s been great company, but we’ll let you have her back now.”

Toto and Jack both thanked Charles and Alexandra, and as they turned to leave, Toto gently took your hand in his, bringing it to his lips for a tender kiss. "I’ve missed you," he murmured softly, his eyes meeting yours with warmth. "I think Jack and I could use some time with you now."

Jack nodded eagerly. “Yeah, Mom! Can we just have some time with you? We’ve been looking everywhere.”

You smiled, squeezing both their hands. “Of course, my boys. I’m all yours now.”

Together, the three of you walked away from the busy paddock, Toto wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and Jack holding onto your other hand. It was a perfect, wholesome moment of togetherness—a reminder that no matter how popular you were in the paddock, your heart always belonged with them.

[xoamiiren]

I SEA YOU, ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 jelly fish vs. goldfish

𖥔 PRECIS. In which, Jungwon realizes he loves you far more than the oceans he studies. PAIRING. marine bio major bf!jungwon x painting major gf!reader GENRE. fluff, friends to lovers WARNINGS. skinship, mild kissing

ren note ୨୧ this was incredibly cute to write.

─────────

Journal Entry O1: July 3rd

There’s something quietly cinematic about the way Jungwon moves through the world, his sneakers worn, frayed laces dragging against the ground, and his sea creature t-shirts thin and faded from too many washes clinging to his skin. His fingers are always curled around the strap of his camera, the weight of it a comforting presence on his chest. A worn tote bag slung over his shoulder carrying scribbled journals and books on marine life., and a different marine creature hangs from the strap on a keychain. His quiet eyes—cat-like and sharp—seem to study everything around him with an intensity he doesn’t speak aloud.

But today, like every day you’re near, his gaze rises — he notices you. You sit on a sun-warmed bench, sketchbook balanced on your knee, your hand lost in a flurry of movements. Y/N, a painting major, a dreamer. You wear flowy skirts that swish gently with the breeze, intricate crochet tops that speak of warmth and softness, your belly piercing always peeking out under the sun. You were always surrounded by a halo of color — paint smudged on your hands, your cheeks, even a few streaks on your pretty clothes.

Today, you were sketching jellyfish. And today, Jungwon feels the courage, unlike most days to approach. Without thinking, shy and hesitant, yet driven by something he doesn’t quite understand.

“Jellyfish actually have...,” his voice is soft as his finger hovers over your sketchbook., correcting a tiny detail with a shy shake of his head. You pause, you blink, and you smile too, wide and beautiful. A beautiful, full smile that makes Jungwon’s heart stumble in his chest. You change the drawing without hesitation, based on his correction, like it mattered to you.

You think he’s cute. Jungwon thinks You’re breathtaking.

⋆｡°✩🪼

Journal Entry O2: July 5th

You cross paths again, in that unintentional, serendipitous way two people bound by an invisible string tend to do.

In the bustling hallway, Jungwon notices you first, again — catching sight of the familiar sway of your lacy skirt. The soft yellow paint smudge on your cheek standing out like a tiny splash of life in the world around you. You notices him too, this time, catching sight of the new little keychain that hangs from his bag. A dolphin.

You say nothing at first, only stare at him until he feels your eyes on him. With the gentleness of someone handling glass, he reaches out and brushes the paint off your cheek with the pad of his thumb, pulling away just as fast. He doesn’t say a word. He never does. He never knows what to say, but your smile says enough for the both of you. Your eyes drop to his bag, noticing the whale keychain.

You exchange no words, but in that quiet moment, Jungwon feels a connection forming, like the pull of the tide. His eyes seem to soften, studying you not as something distant, but something he could grow closer to.

⋆｡°✩🐙

Journal Entry O3: July 7th

“Tell me an ocean fact.”

Your voice comes with the breeze, fluttering toward him as he sits alone on the stone wall, camera resting in his lap. Jungwon lifts his eyes, squinting against the sun, startled, and just… stares. His mouth opens, then closes. He can’t seem to find any words. The moment lingers awkwardly, but you just laugh, a light sound like wind chimes, and walks away with a wave.

He feels embarrassed, even hours later, as the memory of your request gnaws at him. He should have said something. Thinking of all the ocean facts he knows, which would you find the coolest? He wanted to be cool to you.

The next day, as you leave your class, Jungwon catches you by the sleeve.

“Squids have three hearts…” His words are rushed, awkward, but earnest, and he holds up three fingers as if to demonstrate.

You’re stunned. He’s scared. His chocolate orbs were blown wide, studying your reaction with nervous intensity. Your eyes light up, and you find it adorable that he remembered to tell you a simple fact — and that he had chased you down to share it.

Before walking away, he reaches into his tote bag and pulls out something small. A squid keychain. It dangles from his fingers, delicate and clear.

“For you,” he murmurs, his cheeks flushed as he hands it to you. You take it with a soft thank you, attaching it to your own bag immediately.

When you look up, he’s gone again.

Jungwon feels something warm unfurling in his chest.

⋆｡°✩🐬

Journal Entry O4: July 9th

Jungwon doesn’t talk much, but he begins to open up to you, little by little.. You talk enough for both of you. Your stories spill out like paint from a tube, vivid and chaotic. But somehow you're still always charming.

And he listens, smiling quietly to himself as you walk across campus, or when you walk together after class, the squid keychain now dangling from your bag. He likes listening as you speak with your hands. Your hands always smudged with paint, your sketchbook always bulging with papers and doodles. You always lead the conversation with ease.

Always…

One day, as you sit together on the grass, Jungwon notices that you smell like lavender and something sweet, while you notice that Jungwon smells faintly of citrus, and that his soft sandy locks catch the sun in a way that makes your heart stutter.

You like the way he stares out at the world, thoughtful and observant, always just a little bit removed but never distant. Jungwon likes the way your lips curl when you laugh, full and soft, your joy infectious. He likes the way your hands are always working on something creative, bringing beauty into the world with every stroke of your pencil or brush.

He finds himself wanting to be part of your world, even if it means just quietly standing by your side.

⋆｡°✩ 🦀

Journal Entry O5: July 10th

The aquarium was Jungwon’s idea, though he mumbled the invitation, unsure of how to ask.

“Want to go to the aquarium?”

The question came unexpectedly one afternoon, as you parted ways after class. His voice is small, barely there, but you hear it. You always hear him… You say yes. He’s surprised you said yes.

You wander the quiet halls of the aquarium. You walk in silence at first, but it’s the comfortable kind, your pinkies brushing every so often until, near the shark exhibit, Jungwon’s fingers finally curl around yours and you both look straight ahead into the glass covered ocean before you.

Later, under the glass bridge, where the ocean swirls above you, Jungwon kisses you, soft and hesitant, his lips barely brushing yours before he pulls away, cheeks burning. You blush too, but he chases your lips for another taste, a quiet desperation in his eyes that makes your heart leap.

Even later, you kiss again in secret, more firm this time, hidden by the dim light of the jellyfish tanks, your glowing forms casting an ethereal light on your flushed faces.

Jungwon decides he likes kissing you.

You decide you like being kissed by Jungwon.

⋆｡°✩ 🐠

Journal Entry O6: July 12th

Your dates are small and sweet. You bring him to the museum, where you explain the brushstrokes of paintings with the same enthusiasm Jungwon has for sea creatures. Jungwon listens, his eyes always observing, always studying you as you talk, as if memorizing every detail of your face.

In turn, he takes you to the beach, where you roll up your skirt and Jungwon, his pants, splashing through the shallow waves like kids. You kiss in the sand, salt on your lips and in your hair, your head resting on his chest as you lie under the vast sky.

One afternoon, you visit the pet store. A tiny goldfish catches Jungwon’s eye, its golden scales glittering under the light. You watch him, the way he presses his hands to the glass, his eyes wide with wonder. Without thinking twice, he buys the fish, and you bring it to his home together, its little bowl nestled in Jungwon’s arms.

⋆｡°✩ 🦑

Journal Entry O7: July 14th

In his new apartment, you spend afternoons tangled together on his mattress on the floor, you doodle little fish on Jungwon’s arm, your pen gliding over his skin in lazy strokes while he lies back on the thin sheets, watching you with soft eyes. The fan whirs above you, your thin clothes sticking to your skin as the summer heat seeps through the open window.

“I believe in mermaids,” he whispers one day, his voice barely audible over the fan as he rests his head on the plushness of your thighs, staring up at you like the stars in the sky.

You turn from the window, head down to look at him, curious.

“I think you’re a mermaid.”

Your lips part in surprise before breaking into a grin. And for the first time, you lean down to kiss him, with all the gentleness of the tide washing over the shore, your hand cupping his cheek. Jungwon’s heart swells in his chest…

Jungwon loves you.

And you, you love Jungwon too.

[anniflamma]

For the past three days, my mom and I have been exploring Washington DC, and it’s been an experience! We managed to see the major memorials, like the Lincoln, Washington, and WWII Memorials. Then we went to the National Museum of African American History and Culture. We didn’t see all the exhibits, but we caught the most important ones.

The food here hasn’t been amazing—good at best! I got an $8 ice cream that was so frozen to the core, I had to wait for it to melt so I could eat it. Then, knowingly it would be dangerous, tried a bubble tea from one of those neon-colored food trucks. It was mostly milk, condensed milk, and artificial flavoring, not much bubble tea. My mom got sick from it, so we sat down on a bench. But by sitting there, we got to see a sun halo! It was a faint one, but still really cool.

My favorite stop was an exhibit at the Artechouse museum with a theme around the deep sea and the Twilight Zone. It was small but beautiful.

We also visited the National Museum of the American Indian, where we saw all the displays. The setup took us along a timeline showing interactions between different Native American groups and the colonizers, and how the so-called 'peace treaties' came about. It started with a 'we’re all friends here' theme, but it ended with a video showing how colonizers immediately broke the treaties and committed genocide against Native Americans.

One photo really stuck with me. When the state kidnapped children to 'reeducate' them, there was a picture of one of these reeducation schools. Right outside, you could see tents where parents camped outside, waiting for their children to be released and show they hadn’t abandoned them. It was a heavy and powerful image. It will be in my minds for a long time.

But now, we’re off, leaving Washington for the next town!

[jflemings]

— loose lips sink ships

pairing: jessie fleming x reader part 2

synopsis: after portland play seattle, janine accidentally tells you that jessie had been with her ex olivia for most of college after you’d been told that they only dated for a couple of months.

warnings: a lil angst, trust issues (kinda)

a/n: for the sake of the fic, olivia athens is jessie’s ex. took inspo from an ask i got a lil while back

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍁 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

you were looking to break the deadlock when it happened.

one minute the ball was leaving your feet and the next you were on the ground clutching your nose as blood pooled in your hand. you’d gotten an elbow to the nose as you ran up the wing, looking to find sophia who wasn’t too far in front of you.

the tackle had been clean for the most part. it wasn’t mistimed, or malicious, the midfielder had just thrown her elbow back into face after you’d passed it. her foot had hooked around your left ankle as she’d tried to get in front of you and you’d grabbed the back of her jersey. it had been a complete accident. nevertheless, it ended with the two of you on your respective benches, you nursing a hopefully not broken nose and her a badly twisted ankle.

jessie was by your side in an instant when you fell to your knees and leant over into a foetal position, one hand on your shoulder whilst the other tried to gently grasp your hand away from your face. the look of worry in her eyes was enough for you to know that it was bad, or at least that it looked like it was. she’d grimaced when she saw all the blood and soph had gasped from where she was standing behind your girlfriend.

now you hold an ice pack to your nose as you watch both teams shake hands and come off the pitch. portland had won and while you assumed that some form of celebration was in order, you knew that you weren’t going to go.

“swollen face really suits you” janine quips as she walks over to you “she got you good”

you roll your eyes and pull the ice pack off your face briefly “not good enough to break it, thank god” you say stuffily “we got the three points and i’m walking away not needing surgery so i’d say that’s a pretty successful day in the office”

the older canadian nods “i take it you’re not coming out with us?”

“unless you want me to walk around with a cold compress on my face the whole time, no” you deadpan “it’s not a very attractive look”

“i don’t think jessie would mind” she muses with a playful smirk “she doesn’t care what you look like”

“that makes one of us”

janine rolls her eyes and sits beside you, tapping your knee affectionately “kinda funny that jessie’s ex is the one that elbowed you” she says as she half laughs.

you furrow your brows and have the sudden realisation that you don’t actually know where jessie is since she hadn’t come over to you after the final whistle. you scan the area, craning your neck to try to get a better look when you spot her in a sea of deep blue. you spot her easily in portland red and expect her to be talking to jordyn or quinn, but instead find her chatting with olivia athens.

she’s standing over her as olivia sits on the bench. jessie’s hand sits delicately on her shoulder as the two of them talk and laugh in their own little bubble.

the sight of it makes you feel weird.

you tilt your head in confusion “she dated athens?” you question.

“yeah, for most of college. you didn’t know?”

you while your head around to janine, pulling the ice off your face to reveal your swollen nose. she grimaces at the sight before seeing your shocked expression.

“most of college? what does that mean?”

“…that they dated for two and a half years before she moved to london” she answers slowly “you seriously didn’t know?”

“no, i knew that she dated someone in college for a couple of months. not that she dated someone for two and a half years!” you huff

realisation dawns on janine rapidly, her face morphing from confusion to guilt as she thinks over what she’s just said to you. she punches her mouth “jess told you they were only together for a couple of months?”

“and that they’d broken up way before she moved to chelsea”

the canadian suddenly can’t look you in the eye. she attempts to divert her attention elsewhere, trying to find a way out of this conversation before you smack her on the leg.

“janine” you say sternly.

she relents with a sigh “they broke up because of the distance. they both thought it would be better if they split because olivia was going to be playing in the states and they didn’t want— where are you going!?” she cuts herself off abruptly as you stand and make your way towards the tunnel.

“shower” you say shortly, not daring to look at jessie as you pass her on your way.

you staunch into change rooms and grab your shower bag and your clothes before making your way to the showers. everyone was still outside mingling but you knew it wouldn’t be long before your teammates started to trickle in so you took the opportunity as it presented itself and basked in the quiet.

you immediately turn on the hot water and let it steam slightly before ridding yourself of your soiled kit, stepping in and relaxing once you feel the water run down your back. you go through your shower routine almost dazed, the thought of jessie purposefully lying to you lingering in the back of your mind.

when jessie made the move to chelsea you were playing at manchester city with janine. she had insisted that the two of you meet and quickly introduced you to the younger canadian at a small get together at her place.

jessie had made an immediate impression on you. she was a little awkward, yes, but once the two of you got talking you quickly realised that she was incredibly smart and funny. the pair of you spent the whole night chatting and getting to know eachother before exchanging numbers with the promise of meeting up without janine.

a friendship quickly blossomed and you found yourself harbouring secret romantic feelings for the canadian. you kept them under wraps relatively well until janine and lauren hemp spotted you smiling at your phone a little too wide, leaving them to all but squeeze the information out of you. janine promised to keep your secret and to not do any meddling on the condition that you at least tried to make a move.

you, of course, had protested immediately until she started listing off reasons why it was a good idea, accidentally letting it slip that your feelings weren’t one sided in her rushed rant. you did what she wanted and asked jessie out with no mention of the fact that her best friend had been the one to out her secret.

when the topic of past relationships came up jessie had explicitly said that she had dated one person through college and that it had only been for a couple of months, claiming that the two of them really were just better as friends. she told you that they had dated in the beginning of her second last year, that it wasn’t anything serious, and that they had broken up long before chelsea came knocking.

your relationship grew and eventually you decided that it was time to leave the wsl. portland had made each of you an offer that you couldn’t refuse, so the two of you packed up your lives in london and crossed the pond.

replaying that conversation in your head feels like a slap in the face. jessie, to your knowledge, had never lied to you or withheld the truth in anyway, so to find out that she hadn’t been completely honest with you in the very beginning of your relationship had you running hot.

the two of you weren’t a secret in the footballing world, but you knew that it wasn’t something that was well known. the two of you had chosen to let fans speculate about the nature of your relationship whilst being honest with those around you, it was just easier that way.

you didn’t know if olivia knew you were together, or if she knew that jessie was even in a relationship. you didn’t know if they kept in contact, if they still knew eachother well, or if jessie had even thought about her before she clocked you in the nose.

you just didn’t know.

voices interrupt your train of thought and you quickly turn off the shower and grab a towel, drying yourself off and getting changed in hopes that your teammates will be too distracted with themselves to notice you slipping out. as you go to leave to go back to your cubby, you catch janine’s guilty eye. she smiles apologetically at you before turning to get in her own shower, leaving you to what you were doing.

jessie pretty much runs into you on the way to her shower, steadying the two of you as your shoulders collide. her hand squeezes your bicep as she smiles and looks at your nose.

“it’s not broken” you say “it looked worse than what it is”

your girlfriend breathes a relieved sigh “thank god for that” she says as she grabs your jaw gently, moving your head so she can look at your whole face properly “you’re pretty swollen” she observes.

you take your face out of her hand “yeah. i just need to ice it on and off and take it easy and i’ll be fine” you say almost emotionless “nothing to worry about”

the canadian tilts her head and squints her eyes, studying you. even with your nose she didn’t expect you to be so down, your stoic attitude catching her a bit off guard. even if you got injured you were still known to at least attempt to crack a smile if it wasn’t serious. she recalls a time when you had sprained your knee during a city vs chelsea match; you were obviously distraught and in pain when you went down but by the time the game was over you were managing to smile and just be grateful that you hadn’t done your ACL.

your girlfriend squints “are you okay?”

“aside from the nose? yeah, fine.” you say as you pass her.

jessie’s quick to grab your hand and pull you back, her voice minimising to a whisper “y/n” she says

“i’m fine jessie” you falsely assure as you take your hand back “just tired”

she lets you go without much protest, her eyes following you until you’re out of her sight. her mouth flattens into a line and she shakes her head, gripping her jeans and t-shirt tightly as she makes her way to the shower.

janine watches the interaction from across the room and feels the overwhelming urge to go after you, or to at least explain to jessie, but she knows that she’s run her mouth enough for one day.

you walk into your shared apartment and immediately drop your things onto the kitchen bench whilst you raid your freeze for a bag of frozen peas. jessie trails behind cautiously. the car ride had been pretty much silent despite her best efforts to make conversation, leaving her feeling like there was something else that was wrong with you.

she watches you place the peas on your face and close your eyes with a sigh. she’s unsure how to bring up the obvious tension between the two of you, especially since your patience seems to be wearing thin already. she doesn’t like to fight with you but she also doesn’t like feeling the need to walk on eggshells.

she leans her forearms on the kitchen counter “babe” she says into the silence “what’s up? you’ve been frosty since after the game”

“i got an elbow to the face jess” you sass “i’d say that’s a reason to be frosty”

jessie rolls her eyes “that’s not what i meant”

you wave her off quickly and release a deep breath in an attempt to rid yourself of some of the tension “i’m tired and i’m sore, jess, that’s all. seriously”

“okay…” she says slowly “i was going to go out with the team but—”

“no, go” you cut her off as you place the bag of frozen vegetables on the bench “have fun, i’ll be fine”

she stands up straight and runs her hand over the back of her neck “are you sure? because if you don’t want me to i won’t”

the truth was that you kind of didn’t want her to go. you knew that while jordyn and quinn would be there, olivia probably would be too. you heard a few of your teammates say that some of the seattle girls were going to join your team for drinks, and you weren’t too keen on having your girlfriend’s ex hanging around without you there.

it was stupid. really, it was. jessie adored you and you trusted her immensely, but knowing that she had told you something that wasn’t true in the beginning of your relationship had planted small seeds of doubt. you were left wondering what else she could’ve possibly lied to you about, and how it would affect your relationship if any of it was made known to you now.

your need to keep the peace overrides the need to find out the truth. “i’m sure. tell jords and quinny that i say hi” you say softly, walking around the bench and placing a soft hand to her cheek.

she leans into you and kisses the palm of your hand before you walk to your living room and turning on the tv, hoping to find something to take your mind off of everything.

jessie, on the other hand, goes straight to your bedroom to start to get ready. you can hear your wardrobe doors and drawers open and close as she looks for what she wants to wear before she walks out and past you to go to your laundry dressed in just a plain shirt, boxes and socks “have you seen my light wash jeans, babe?”

“which ones, you’ve got a million pairs” you ask as you flick through your streaming services.

jessie goes through dirty and clean laundry as she answers you loudly “the more loose fitted ones. i wore them last week to dinner with sinc and janine”

“bottom left drawer under your dark blue ones”

she’s quick to rush back into your bedroom and grab them, stumbling back into the hallway as she puts one leg on. you watch her struggle before she does up her fly and comes back over to you, kissing your cheek firmly “sam and soph are coming to get me, i won’t be home late and i’ll call a cab if i need to” she says into your skin, kissing you again.

you shake your head “i can come get you”

she brushes your hair back “no, it’s okay. you just try to get that swelling to go down. i promise i’ll only be a few hours”

all you can do is nod as you watch her grab her things and walk out the door, the pit of doubt only growing in your stomach as she shuts it behind her.

[yyawnjun]

hello! hehe can i req how piwon would act with s/o who have lower body temperature on average? like wydm you're shivering... it's autumn. tqvm babe!!!! 😆

PIWON with a s/o who has lower body temperature on average

AYY!! first piwon ask, it felt so special, tysm for requesting it. I hope I get it right, like his s/o is actually" feel the cold"(tell me if I didn't get it, I will change and rewrite). I hope you will like it <3 ; I also wrote hcs for the first timee, how are we feeling !!

fluff ; @sobun1est MY FAAAVVV PROOFREADER even during my phone cb </3 ; 1.7k wc ; @kflixnet

YOON KEEHO

☆ i feel he'd be confused at first, like wdym you mentioned that you needed to take your jacket when your going out during a SUMMER night for your date.

☆ if there would have been a little breeze, it should not have been THAT cold. anyway he remembered what you said, and when you were about to leave your place to go out for dinner he noticed that you didn't take your jacket.

☆ he was about to remind you, but he saw first HIS jacket lying on the sofa. so he opted to bring it…so you'd be forced to wear his

☆ even though you had warned him that you were more sensitive to the cold than the others bc of your low body temperature, he was still shocked when he noticed that you were starting to feel cold while you were walking near the sea.

☆ he was holding your hand and he noticed it getting colder, and you were shivering while looking for your coat.

☆ “were you looking for this” he'd say in the most cheesy tone ever while handing you his jacket

☆ you'd be confused at first bc you were searching YOURS.

☆ but then you'd accept it after realizing the sweet gesture, and he just laughs a bit, trying to be cool but internally feeling so proud while seeing you with his jacket!!!!

☆ I feel this would happen so many times that you'd just start always using his jackets instead of yours. they still smelled like him and reminded you of him, plus his style is fire; a total win for you (and for him)

☆ I also think that you'd have to remind him a few times about your low body temperature, and even so, he'd have trouble remembering, but it would become like a tradition for him to ALWAYS bring an extra jacket to give you 😭😭.

CHOI TAEYANG

☆ here me out. third date with theo, and you're sitting on a bench in a park. It's like late evening on an autumn day, so it was a bit colder than usual and a light wind was moving the leaves.

☆ while he was talking, you'd start shaking a bit, trying to keep it cool for as much as you can while doing your best to not look too mesmerized by the big jacket he was wearing.

☆ he had immediately noticed that your outfit was too light for the evening (but in your defense, it was too cute to be covered up!) but he hadn't said anything (except how pretty you looked)

☆ he would notice how cold you were, but he would also be quite cold because of the weather.... so in the first few minutes, he would be torn between offering you his jacket or not (you did not dare to ask him for it…)

☆ BUT IN THE END OFC HE GAVE IT TO YOU, without saying anything…just in time for you to not catch a cold.

☆(he would then feel guilty for doing it so late when you explained to him that bc of your lower temperature, you felt much more the cold,,)

☆ he would scold you a little because you were dressed too lightly!!!. and you needed to take care of yourself (otherwise, how could you have gone out on dates again!).

☆ but I promise he'd BLUSH so hard after hearing that you cared so much about your outfit for him that you choose it over your own good😭😭

☆ in the end, I also feel that it would be you two sharing his jacket on the bench (on one hand bc he wanted to be closer to you, on the other bc you needed more warmth!)

☆ and he was getting cold too, but he'd never admit it </3.

☆ it would be just the two of you, sharing the same jacket as a comforting warmth spread.

HWANG INTAK

☆ I feel intak would be the exact opposite of you

☆ he'd be like a warm heater all of the time. I think that just being around him would warm you up.

☆ and oh boy, how much he'd use this excuse to stay closer to you.

☆ “we need to sit next to each other! bc what if you start getting colder and we are far away” - cit intak after moving his chair next to yours in a romantic restaurant just bc he wanted to eat next to you.

☆ he'd be your personal giant hotpack 24/7, and when he isn't w you, he'd give you some of his hot packs/hoodies to use in case you needed

☆ how much he'd brag about your different "perception” of temperature. he would use this excuse to grab your hand ALWAYS, no matter if you were actually shivering or not

☆ like imagine you're mad at him, and hes just like a super sweet golden retriever that came closer to you and take your hand

☆ “otherwise you would be cold” he whispers while not looking at you.

☆ and HOW can you stay mad at him, while his hand is warming up yours and you two are walking together..and your gazes keep meeting..

☆ or imagine sharing a blanket with him during a cold winter; while watching TV you'd have not only the warmth from the cozy blanket but also from the heat of your boy!!

☆ (And I picture him wearing only a light shirt and short pants while being a heater for you without even noticing but LOVING the closeness to you).

CHOI JIUNG

☆ I feel he'd be the most WORRIED and so the most caring between all of them <3

☆ not only hotpack, but also scarfs, jackets, hats, etc. his backpack would always be so full of things to keep you warm anytime😭

☆ I can see him even find out about the “causes” and what he could do to help you in all situations; esp at first he'd keep asking how you wereand if you needed something

☆ imagine being at a party with jiung, maybe you were there with your friends now sitting somewhere while laughing and drinking

☆ and you suddenly feel something or someone putting his arms around your shoulders and his head on yours.

☆ “your face is cold” he said after kissing your cheeks. “wanna go home?” he'd ask you. and after you asked for five more minutes he'd RUN to bring you his jacket <3

☆ and the way he'd giggle and smile when he sees how helpful he is everytime.

☆ this boy would ended up forgetting to bring his own things to always have yours, and you'd force him to wear your sweaters

☆ and now you'd be the one giggling and smiling for his new style. <3

HAKU SHOTA

☆ silently helping you ALWAYS. I imagine it while you were waiting for the bus to come and you'd start shaking a little, maybe complaining out loud how cold the weather was getting

☆ the boy wouldn't wait a sec before taking you by the hand and bringing you to the nearest coffee shop. hot chocolate? hot tea? yes. you'd have that in front of you before you could even REALIZE where you were.

☆ “put some sugar, it will help to your temperature to come back to normal”

☆ I feel that in some magic way he'd already known that you were getting too cold outside. and no matter how important it was to take that bus, your health was more important anyway.

☆ and i feel he would start memorizing some coffee places to bring you in case you were out and you were feeling cold all of sudden.

☆ i am so sure he'd always have hot packs with the funniest decorations for you

☆ and he'd always remind you to bring your coats, you two would even have like one specific emoji and you'd just remember to bring it

☆ “we should hold hands, so mines can warm yours” he'd say naturally while taking your hand (and blushing a lot but w/o adding anything or looking at you)

☆ so you two would just start walking hand in hand, saying that it was for your own good!(And you and you have never denied this…)

KIM JONGSEOB

☆ I feel he'd find it funny how you were always cold while it was so hot outside. he’d tease you at first, "c’mon it's autumn and you are already so cold..this winter might be the end of you"

☆ but as soon as you'd take five minutes to explain him how the affects you the fact that have lower body temperature on average he'd feel bad for joking about it and he'd start taking you more seriously 😭

☆ still, it would take him a while to get used to it. and there would have been times when you two would be forced to run a bit bc you were starting to be really cold. and he had no other options other than “run a little to warm up”

☆ i can't stop picturing seob and his s/o while walking together during an early morning(maybe going to school together!!) and by chance seeing a cat on the street.

☆ you would immediately get closer to the cat and seob would follow. you two would slowly try to get closer to pet the cat and you'd magically succeed!! you two would start petting the cat and he would feel how cold your hands were.

☆ “yn are you cold?” he says while gently stocking your hands.

☆ and one slight nod was enough for him to take your hands and try to use his to warm you up. he would take your hands and caress them, while bringing them closer to his face to give you hot air and warm them up.

☆ and if this isn't enough he'd have the perfect idea after remembering how cats were able to warm themselves thanks to their fur.

☆ and now there is two options for how it goes

☆ OPTION ONE: he manages to take the cat and gently put it on your legs. so now you just sit with him next to you, while the warm of the cat would warm u up too <3

☆ OPTION TWO: you two would ended up running after that poor cat, and you would inevitability warm up bc of the run (run method never fails)😭

[thisreadswhatever]

Only Mine

find my masterlist here

[description]: jax teller x fem!reader

[wordcount]: 2.4k

[cw]: 18+ only, smut, jealous overprotective Jax, angst, short fight scene (if you can even call it that), car sex, oral f receiving, teasing, unfinished sex

[authors note]: I had this idea floating around for awhile and then this request inspired the rest! thank you!

“I’m sure you say that to all the ladies.” 

You were along the bar, chin in palm, blinking your lashes at the man sitting beside you. He smiled back wryly. He was pretty perfect. Clean cut, slightly muscular, no tats covering him from top to bottom, no bike sitting in the parking lot. He was a little cocky, aware of his good looks, and in all honesty, any other day he’d be the type of guy you’d usually find pretty boring. But for tonight, he’d be a welcome distraction. 

“So you’re really here alone?” the man asked, looking around as he took a sip from the glass in front of him. 

You smiled back, twisting a strand of hair into your fingers as you sipped your beer, “that surprise you?” 

“Someone like you doesn’t come around here often. Can't imagine you haven’t been snatched up yet.” 

Technically, he was right. Jax and you hadn’t spoken in days, and although the mutual silence was a regular occurrence, you somehow always found a way back to each other. It never had been made ‘official’, but it never really needed to be. You both stuck to each other like the end poles of magnets, impossible to keep apart yet impossible to stay together. You and Jax were a burning flame amongst a sea of trees condemned to an endless drought. Your love was toxic and infuriating, and it pained you both how hurtful you could be to one another. Yet for some reason, you always went back. You’d reconnect, one of you would fuck up, and then it was back to square one all over again. 

“Haven’t found the one yet”, you teased. 

He gestured to the bartender with his hand, “can I buy you another beer?” 

You smiled politely back at him, “you can buy me as many as you want.”

You picked up your drink and pulled his hand with your other as you led him to one of the quiet booths settled at the back of the bar. You spent the next hour cosying up to your stranger, soaking in the attention he gave you. He was overly attentive and extremely polite, almost a little too nice for your liking. No roughness on the edges, no fight in him. Just a gentleman through and through. You sat inches from each other, tension building as the drinks continued to appear. 

“Can I kiss you?” The man asked as he leaned in, hovering above your face. It wasn’t often you were asked to be kissed. You stared into his eyes through your long lashes, nodding in approval.

He smiled shyly into your lips as they pressed against his. He was gentle, his hands slowly moving to your waist, never straying further. 

He laid back into the bench, taking a sip from his beer. “You know I never did catch your name.” 

You didn’t want to share anything with this stranger, the anonymity bringing less questions and expectations. 

“Later.” 

You cupped his face in your hand, grazing his jaw with your fingertips as you brought his mouth to yours again.

He was nice, but the longer you spent kissing your gentle stranger, the more you yearned to be in the hands of your depraved biker. Jax was urgent and desperate for you each time you were in his arms. There was a mutual desire that turned you both into crazed maniacs when you were together. It was something you’d searched for every time you were with someone else, because nobody you’d ever come across had given you that same feeling. 

Jax had a way of turning you into the only girl in the world. Until he was fucking the next croweater who threw themselves at him the following day. 

Tonight, you were going to allow yourself to enjoy the gentlemen in front of you. You leaned back into the bench, trying to edge him on top of you as you sunk into the bench against his lips.

You were so entangled in your stranger that you never even noticed him arrive with half of The Club. It wasn’t until you were interrupted by the break in your lips as he was pulling the man off you by his shirt, forcing him to the floor as he was knocked flat on his back. 

“Jax!”

“Dude! What the fu-“ he tried to stand up, but Jax placed his shoe directly on his chest, crushing him to the ground. The man grunted under the weight, failing to pry the shoe off of him. “What the fuck are you doing!?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” He pressed down into the man’s chest harder, restraining himself from crushing his rib cage all together. 

The stranger looked at you with wide eyes, trying to speak through the force compounding his lungs, “she said she was alone!” 

Jax smiled at him as he laid spread out on the dirty bar floor. 

“I don’t give shit what she said. Your time is up, pretty boy.”  

You were ashamed to admit that you thoroughly enjoyed watching Jax furious with envy over you, but you did feel bad for the innocent guy beneath his sneaker. 

“Get the fuck off him, Jax.” 

He glanced up at you, taking a long look at your flushed pink cheeks and swollen lips.

The crowded bar was now zoned in on your table, watching and entertained by the drama unfolding. Chibs, Juice and Bobby guarded the table, ensuring no onlookers got in the way of Jax’s jealous fuelled rage. 

He picked the man up by his collar, pulling him to his feet as he threw him against the wall. Jax gripped at his jaw, lifting his chin to force his eyes towards you at the bench. “I suggest you apologise for bothering my girl.” 

“Jax don’t be ridiculous-“ 

He ignored you, glaring at the man in his grasp, tightening the grip on his collar. 

“I’m sorry, okay!” 

“Not to me, asshole. To her.” 

You rolled your eyes, watching as he tormented the innocent stranger you had set yourself upon.

“I’m sorry I bothered you.” His voice cracked from the hold Jax had on his collar, draining the circulation from his neck.

Jax shoved the man off the wall, releasing him as he was once again flown across the laminate. He stumbled to regain his balance before he started running, bolting for the exit. He disappeared at the speed of light, chuckles from Juice and Chibs echoing through the bar as he ran. 

You stood up from the bench, storming off in anger for the door. 

Jax followed you into the empty, dark car park outside the bar. His hands stuffed into his pockets as he watched you slump against the brick wall, sliding down to sit on the pavement. You put a cigarette to your mouth as you searched for a lighter in your bag. You hadn’t felt tipsy until the air hit you, realising your head was spinning.

He paced over to you, crouching forward with his lighter, igniting the cigarette between your lips. 

“You’re such a prick sometimes, you know that?” 

Jax slid down the wall beside you, his legs bent slightly at the knees as he sighed to himself, lighting his own cigarette. “Not gonna argue with that.” 

He exhaled a large cloud of smoke as he spoke, “but you were basically fucking that guy in an open bar, y/n.” 

“First of all, no I wasn’t.” 

He chuckled, amused by your irritation. 

“And second of all, what the fuck has that got to do with you? You’re the one who decided to get knee deep in Ima last week, again.” 

“I told you I was drunk.” 

“And now I’m drunk too”, you protested.

He shook his head as smoke escaped his lips, fingers twirling the silver lighter in his hands. “That isn’t going to happen again.”

Your head fell back as you groaned at his promise, leaning against the hard brick behind you. “Yeah, ‘cause I haven’t heard that one before.” 

He smiled, nudging your leg with his playfully. “You know I mean it. Doesn’t matter who I’m inside, there's only one face I see.” 

You turned your head towards him, leaning your face on his shoulder. “I’m tired of this, Jax. You and your mommy issues are giving me whiplash.” 

“Yeah, well your baggage ain’t so easy to handle either.” He placed a hand over the back of your head, stroking your hair as he spoke.

You responded with a punch to his knee, swaying his leg. “You can’t just keep beating men up because they’re interested in me. That guy was actually sweet.” 

He threw his cigarette across the pavement before he grasped his hands into your hair, entangling his fingers between the strands. He crushed his lips against yours, his tongue lapping into your mouth. His fingers smoothed against your face, the feeling of his cold rings brushing against your cheek. Your foreheads connected as your eyes closed, resting silently along each other. “I can be sweet too.” 

You chuckled, playfully biting his lip. “You’re a sweet, jealous prick, Teller.”

He pulled into you once more, pecking your lips slowly before escalating into your lips, pulling you on top of him. You straddled him there in the lot, surrounded by empty parked cars in the dead of night. His hands gripped at your waist, pulling your body tighter to him, the feeling of his erection pressing into your jeans. Your hands twisted into his hair, holding his head against yours. He smirked against your lips, trailing his hands lower to your ass, as he secured his hands in your back pockets. He stroked your cheek with his nose, kissing the pink tinted skin.

“I just don’t like sharing what’s mine.” 

Your mouth found his as you raised your eyebrows, mumbling into his lips, “then take what's yours.”

He grinned, lifting you in one swift motion from his lap, standing you up against him. He pulled you across the parking lot as you stumbled drunk, trying to keep up. He led you to your car, opened the back door and pushed you flat against the back seat. 

Jax laid above you, planting himself between your legs. He angled himself between the seats, crushing his mouth against yours. His touch was ravenous, ripping the buttons from your jeans waistband as he pulled the denim from your ass. You giggled as he struggled to get them off entirely between the leather of the flat seat. You lifted yourself up, helping as he removed them. He pulled at your shirt, lifting it higher to expose the skin around your stomach as he leaned into you, gnawing at the skin in short pecks from your navel to your now exposed panties. You grasped at his hair as he claimed you with his warm mouth, suffocating himself into the fabric that covered your mound. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking soaked for me.” He groaned at the taste of your slick pooling into the cotton, pulling your panties to the side. He circled his tongue against your clit, watching you, utterly mesmerised as you whimpered at the sensation. He rolled his thumb against your dripping fold, “this pretty cunt is mine.” 

Vibrations filled your entire being as he nuzzled into your mound, lapping his tongue repeatedly against your slick, his hands lifting your ass to push deeper into you. You tugged at the roots of his blonde hair, drunken moans of his name filling the car park as you struggled to keep quiet. He pulled away, his face glistening from your juices as he smirked at you, caressing his fingers against your pussy. “You want your sweet guy to finish you off?”

Your head fell back at the taunt, “c’mon Jax, don’t- stop-”

He pulled your panties down your ass, exposing your cunt entirely. His tongue stroked you, prodding at your swollen nub, before hesitating again. “Tell me you’re mine.” 

“Fuck, Jax- I’m- yours. I’m only yours.” The words trailed slowly from your gritted teeth, your head swirling from the feeling and the beer. You chased for his mouth, drawing your hips up closer to his face.

“Look at me when you tell me.”

You used all your might to lift your head from the seat, finding his eyes staring into yours, fire blazing within them. You spoke between your sharpened breaths, trying to form a coherent sentence. “I said- I’m yours.”

“I can’t hear you, darlin’. You’re only what?” 

Your head collapsed into the leather seat, cries escaping your lips as you squirmed your hips higher to find his mouth again. “I’m yours- Jax- shit-”

“That’s my pretty girl.” 

He stoked his tongue against your clit, enjoying every moment as you pleaded through your moans for him to take you to your climax. He was revelling in your anguish as he teased at your cunt. He played with your folds again, his fingers caressing the soaking skin. 

“No other man comes near my pussy, isn’t that right?”

You groaned in response, his claim on you sending you further into spiral. “No- no one else.”

His lips reconnected to your cunt, whimpers of desperation pouring from your lips. His fingers finally found your entrance, rewarding you as he slid into your seam, pushing you towards your release. 

He muttered into your mound, “you only cum for me.”

Your body exploded at his instruction, collapsing onto his fingers as they curled against your sweet spot, his mouth soaking in your orgasm. He delighted at your unravelling, his hands travelling your body as he found your breasts, kneading into the soft skin.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Let go for me.” Your thighs shook around his face uncontrollably, squeezing his head into your cunt.

He released his hand from your mound, hovering over you as his lips laid flush against yours. He danced around your mouth, forcing you to taste your slick that covered his tongue. Jax straddled over your hips, holding himself up against the headrest of the seat as his throbbing cock found your entrance. He positioned himself, sliding between the folds, a squeal escaping your throat as he filled you entirely. 

Before he could fuck you senseless, a loud repeated bang was heard against the hood of the car, startling you both.

“Jackie boy! We gotta go!”

Jax collapsed against you, groaning in frustration. If you weren’t so drunk from Jax and the beer, you would’ve been furious. Instead you giggled, amused by the interruption, “Chib’s and his impeccable timing.” He sighed, his head resting against your chest. 

He pulled out from you, as you rushed to put your underwear back in its place. He smirked against your mouth as he kissed you one last time, parting your lips between his, "guess I’ll just have to finish claiming you later.”

read part two here

[parkerslatte]

Finding Home || Part Eleven

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings; attempted sa. violence. blood and injury. smut.

Summary: After a night spent at the theatre, Y/N finally sees what Azriel is capable of and that she has a violent streak of her own. When they return to the Inn, feelings Azriel had kept to himself come to light.

Finding Home Masterlist

•••

The concert came to an end and Y/N sat there in awe. Two hundred years had passed since she had seen all of the musicians perform and it was just as beautiful as she remembered. Y/N continued to sit in her seat even as the curtains were drawn and everyone began to leave the theatre. 

“Y/N,” Azriel said, nudging her arm. “Are you ready to go?”

“Oh?” Y/N said as she was snapped out of her trance. “Yes, of course.”

Azriel stood first and offered Y/N his arm and the two walked out of the theatre together. Adrenaline was still coursing through her veins as she rambled on to Azriel about the performance. Despite that he was sitting directly next to her through the entire performance, she described everything in great detail. 

As they left the theatre, they picked up two glasses of wine on the way out before making their way to the harbour. It was quiet as the tavern was closed. The only sound was the sea just beyond the wall. 

“Shit,” Azriel muttered. 

“What is it?” Y/N asked. 

“I left my jacket in the theatre,” Azriel said. 

“Go back and get it,” Y/N said, sitting down on a bench with her drink. “I’ll wait here. It’s quite peaceful.”

“Are you sure?” Azriel said. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” Y/N said, taking the wine Azriel had out of his hands. “The only thing in danger here is your wine.”

“I won’t be too long,” Azriel said. 

“I’ll be here,” Y/N said and took a sip from her drink. 

Y/N watched until Azriel was out of sight before turning her attention to the large stretch of sea. It was beautiful even in the dark. Y/N decided that she wanted to return to the Summer Court more often. 

A whistle was directed Y/N’s way as two fae males sauntered over to her. Y/N rolled her eyes. 

“Look what we have here,” the shorter one of the two said. “We haven’t seen you around here before.

“For good reason,” Y/N mumbled and took a sip from her drink. 

“Would you look at that, Aerin? She has bite,” the taller one said, getting uncomfortably close to Y/N. “I like that.”

Y/N looked over her shoulder but couldn’t find Azriel anywhere, not even a sliver of his shadows. Panic rose within her, she only knew basic self defence and she was sure that wouldn’t work on the two males standing before her. 

“Would you two imbeciles mind leaving me alone?” Y/N snapped as she spotted a shadow dart into her view then out once again. 

The shorter male, Aerin, slid into the seat beside her. “Don’t be like that. All we are doing is being friendly.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and stood from her seat. “I think you and I have different definitions of friendly.”

Y/N didn’t know exactly which direction Azriel was in but she began to walk regardless, wanting nothing more than to get away from the two males. Just as she thought she was far enough away, a hand gripped onto her upper arm tightly, pulling her back. 

“Get the fuck off me!” Y/N exclaimed, attempting to pull her arm away. 

“Come on, have one drink with us,” the taller one said, pulling her back to his chest. “We’ll show you a good time.”

Y/N continued to struggle but despite her attempts, the grip the male had on her was like iron. She did the only thing she could with the limbs she had free. She stomped her heel into the male's foot repeatedly. And she did it again. And again. And again. Until the heel of her shoe plunges fully into the male’s foot, blood spraying on her foot. 

In her fit of rage, Y/N had failed to notice the steel grip the male had on her was no more. Y/N let out a long breath of air as she looked at the male’s foot, mangled and bloody. She felt a grim sort of satisfaction at the pain on his face. 

“Y/N!” Azriel’s voice cut through the silence. 

“Az,” Y/N said, turning to the direction of his voice, still panting. 

“My shadows told me…” He trailed off as he noted the blood covering her foot and the man slumped against his friend. 

“What did he do to you?” Azriel asked, his eyes darkening. 

“This isn’t my blood, it’s his,” Y/N said, taking a step away from the male. 

Azriel’s gaze trailed down to the man’s mangled foot and it was as if he pieced together the information. 

“A wound like that can only come from one direction,” Azriel said darkly, stalking towards the males. “You must have held her to your chest if the faint bruise on her arm is anything to go by.”

“We didn’t do anything,” the taller one begged, holding onto his injured foot.

“Try again,” Azriel said, his voice eerily calm. Y/N could only stand there and watch. 

“The bitch was asking for it!” Aerin grunted. 

Before Y/N could comprehend anything. Azriel shot across the street and pinned the male against a wall, the wall cracked from the force. Y/N couldn’t hear what Azriel was saying but the petrified look in Aerin’s eyes spoke a thousand words. 

The shadowsingers forearm was pressed against Aerin’s windpipe, cutting off all oxygen as Aerin struggled to breathe. Y/N slowly walked closer to the scene. Aerin’s feet dangled from the floor as he tried to kick Azriel away from him but the shadowsinger was an unmoveable wall, prepared to take any brunt of damage the desperate male would try to inflict. 

Aerin’s eyes began to glass over and that was when Y/N decided to step in. 

“Azriel,” she said softly. 

Azriel’s head snapped in her direction, a look in his eyes she had never witnessed before. It was at that moment she realised that before her stood the shadowsinger, not the Azriel she had gotten to know– gotten to love. 

Love. 

Y/N had never admitted it to herself before. Of course she had felt this pull towards Azriel since they met and she only thought it was friendship at first. But the more she got to know him, the deeper in love she fell. 

It was easy. Despite his hardened exterior, Azriel was someone who loved deeply and fully and cared about those close to him. Y/N was lucky to be one of the few who were allowed to see him relaxed, see him smile and joke– feel his touch. 

Most others would be intimidated by Azriel’s role in the Night Court and Y/N didn’t blame them. Seeing only a portion of what he could do right before her eyes was shocking and a contrast from the Azriel she had gotten used to. However she wasn’t scared, not in the slightest. Of course she never thought she would be, she knew what his job consisted of. She knew what she was possibly getting into when she befriended him. And she loved him more for it. Now Y/N had seen all sides of Azriel and she loved him more for it. 

“That’s enough,” Y/N said softly, stepping closer to Azriel. 

The crushing pressure Azriel had on Aerin’s windpipe faltered before he dropped the male to the floor, his neck badly bruised. If Y/N had stopped him even a few seconds later, the male would be dead. 

The hardened look was still in Azriel’s eye as he turned his body to fully face Y/N. Despite his intimidating exterior, Y/N detected a hint of insecurity in his posture as he faced her– as if he wished she hadn’t witnessed what had just happened. 

“Y/N,” Azriel whispered. 

“Azriel,” she said as she stepped closer and reached out to him. Azriel flinched away. 

“I wish you didn’t see that,” Azriel muttered. “I never wanted you to see me like that.”

“Why?” Y/N asked.

“Because I didn’t want to scare you off,” Azriel replied. 

“I’m still here aren’t I?” Y/N asked. “I am not scared by you, Az. I knew what I was getting into when I befriended you. I knew what you did as a job. I knew you were not just simply the spymaster of the Night Court. I know that you kill people when necessary. I know that you commit acts of violence. That never scared me away because you are so much more than that.”

Y/N gestured to the taller male who had passed out on the ground. “I just did that to a male’s foot. I could have stopped at any point after he had let me go, but I didn’t. I committed an act of unnecessary violence. Does that mean I should be running scared from myself?”

Azriel slowly shook his head. “No.”

“Then why should I be running from you?” Y/N asked, she attempted reaching out again and this time he didn’t flinch away as she took his hands in hers. “Come on, help me wash the blood from my leg.”

Y/N led Azriel to the harbour not too far away and walked down the steps to the water. “I liked these shoes.” Y/N took the blood-stained shoes off her feet and threw them onto the dock. “Someone can deal with those in the morning.”

This caused a quiet huff of laughter to emit from Azriel. Y/N smiled. “There’s those dimples I love to see.”

Azriel shyly looked away. 

The sound of the gentle waves lapping over one another was all that was heard as Y/N washed the blood off of her legs and feet, luckily her dress was spared from the blood splatter. Even once Y/N had finished, she didn’t say a word as the two watched the gentle waves. 

Y/N looked at Azriel out of the corner of her eye and fought the urge to reach out to him. She always needed to fight that urge around Azriel. Just a simple touch could make her calm, more content.  Now as that sat side by side, she waited until he made contact first. 

“Thank you,” Azriel finally spoke up.

“For what?” Y/N asked. 

“For not running away,” Azriel replied. “I have had lovers in the past that have been uncomfortable with my job or run away at the first sight of violence. I have never had a meaningful relationship with anyone my entire life, mostly just flings or time spent in the pleasure halls.”

Y/N didn’t know if Azriel had realised that she had compared her to his past lovers, but she did and she hid her smile as she looked at the water. 

“I knew deep down that you wouldn’t abandon me, but it was still a small fear of mine,” Azriel said. “I don’t want to lose you.”

They both turned to one another and Azriel gently held Y/N’s hand in his, squeezing it as if assuring himself that she was still there and not a figment of his imagination. 

“You will never lose me, Azriel,” Y/N said firmly. “You are stuck with me for life.”

Azriel took in a deep breath and fully turned his body to hers. “Listen, Y/N, there is something I need–”

A sharp scream cut through the peaceful atmosphere like a knife. Someone had found the two unconscious bodies. 

Y/N looked at Azriel wide-eyed. “What shall we do?”

“I can speak to Varien and explain the situation,” Azriel said. “He will smooth everything over. I doubt Tarquin will allow males like those to walk freely in his court.”

“So we won’t be banned from the court?” Y/N asked. 

Azriel quietly chuckled. “No, we won’t. If I were to be banned from the court then I am sure it would cause Rhys to age another hundred years considering Cassian is already banned.”

Y/N laughed. “What is the story there?”

“It’s a long one,” Azriel said as the two stood up from the steps, creeping away from the scene of the crime and back to the Inn they were staying in. “Perhaps another night.”

“Another night then,” Y/N agreed. “Now, you wanted to tell me something?”

Azriel suddenly looked down at the ground. “It is best I tell you back at the Inn.”

Y/N noticed his shift in mood again. He was hoping to tell her something important, she could tell. But what Azriel didn’t know was that Y/N also had something to tell him. Something she never thought she would say to anyone with so much meaning behind it. 

Azriel’s hand slipped around her waist and pulled her tightly against the side of his body as they walked. She felt more protected and comforted than ever. Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked and Azriel’s wing wrapped around her, encasing her in his warmth. 

***

When they returned to the room, Azriel immediately felt hot and couldn’t open his mouth to articulate a sentence. He shouldn’t have waited to speak to Y/N. He should have told her that he loved her when they were sitting by the docks. If he could rewind time, he would. There was nowhere to escape to if his feelings were not returned. He couldn’t easily walk away or leave Y/N to her own thoughts. They were trapped together in the room. 

Azriel quickly took his jacket off and threw it on a chair and let out a sigh. Y/N had disappeared into the bathroom to change leaving Azriel alone with his thoughts. All he needed to say were three words. Three extremely simple words. 

Azriel scoffed at himself. He had fought in wars. He had tortured people for information. He had killed more people than he cared to admit. But saying ‘I love you’ was where Azriel struggled to complete a task. 

“Az,” Y/N called before stepping into the bedroom. “Can you help me unlace my dress? I can’t get it untied.”

Y/N turned her back to him and let out a soft breath. Slowly, Azriel stepped towards her, the scent of her perfume consuming his senses. The shadows that were once resting upon and around his shoulders and ankles had flowed forward to caress Y/N’s body. For the first time, Azriel didn’t even attempt to pull them back. He watched as goosebumps appeared on her skin and her breath got shakier. 

With slow steps, Azriel approached Y/N until he was so close that whenever he inhaled, his body lightly brushed against Y/N. She leaned back into his arms as Azriel’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. Y/N took a sharp inhale of breath and pressed her hand against Azriel’s. 

“Azriel…” Y/N whispered and her voice was like music to his ears. “This doesn’t look like you helping unlace my dress.”

Azriel huffed out a laugh. “I suppose it doesn’t.”

Reluctantly, Azriel pulled back from Y/N and his hand found the ribbon lacing her dress. The whole ordeal reminded him of the time he laced her dress up when she went on her date. Azriel was still livid at the male that stood Y/N up. She had unfortunately not given away anything about the male so Azriel couldn’t do anything about it. Of course he only wanted a ‘civilised chat’. 

Azriel tried to stop his hands shaking as he unlaced the dress. He wanted to seem confident, but he wasn’t. Everything about Y/N made the quick and easy smooth talk he had perfected over five centuries to fly away. The air was thick and Azriel already knew that this situation would go one way. The sweet scent of her arousal lingered in the air and it had only begun to get stronger. 

The moment Azriel unlaced Y/N’s dress he sucked in a breath. Her bare back was facing him and Azriel lightly caressed the soft and smooth skin. Y/N clutched the dress to her chest and slowly turned around. Azriel kept his gaze on her face which looked the smallest amount flustered. He couldn’t help but think of how beautiful she looked at that moment. Azriel wished that there was some way he could capture this moment for eternity. He supposed he could with Feyre’s ability to paint but he never wanted anyone else to see Y/N the way he was now. Never again would anyone see Y/N in this situation apart from him. 

Beside him, Azriel’s hand twitched and he longed to reach out to Y/N. To caress her soft skin and take her into his arms. He wanted to explore every inch of her skin with his lips, leaving behind goosebumps in his wake. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t muster the courage to initiate anything. 

“Azriel,” Y/N whispered, taking a small step closer to him. 

That small step had brought them chest to chest and Azriel could feel the heat radiating off her body. He was desperate to pull her toward him and worship every inch of her body. Y/N still clutched the dress close to her body and she just looked so beautiful. The dim lighting made her eyes sparkle brightly. 

“I–” Azriel said, feeling himself unable to speak. There was so much that he wanted to say but he couldn’t put any of it into words. 

“What do you want, Azriel?” Y/N asked, the grip on her dress faltering for a moment. 

Azriel’s hand twitched and reached out to caress the hand hanging by Y/N’s side. Instead of pulling away, Y/N laced their fingers together. Azriel felt his heart jump.

“You,” Azriel breathed. “I want you.”

Before Azriel knew it, Y/N had dropped her dress and it pooled at her feet, leaving her in only her undergarments. Azriel sucked in another breath. His eyes dipped down her entire body and it was absolutely perfect. 

“Then have me,” Y/N said.

That was Azriel’s invitation, though he didn’t take it. There was nothing more Azriel wanted than Y/N. He wanted her so much that it hurt. 

Instead of Azriel taking the lead, Y/N leaned up and captured his lips with her own. The meeting between them sent shockwaves through Azriel’s body, no other kiss had made him feel this way. No other kiss seemed to melt away his surroundings. Even his shadows seemed to still as they kissed, more gentle than last time. 

As Y/N cupped the back of Azriel’s neck, he melted into her, wrapping his arms around her waist, securing her body against his. His nerves were set alight everywhere her body touched his. 

Azriel’s mouth dominated hers the more comfortable he got and the more his reality set in. None of this was a dream, he was really kissing Y/N again. This kiss felt different, however. Their kiss in her apartment was a drunken error, a welcome error but not the way Azriel would have wanted to kiss Y/N for the first time. Their second kiss at the bottom of the stairs was in the heat of the moment, rushed and sloppy– it felt like an age ago despite only being a few hours. 

The moment she walked down the stairs in that blue gown– currently discarded on the floor– that seemed to hug her in the right places, he had stilled when he had first seen her and he was sure that he had never seen anyone more beautiful. Azriel once thought Elain was the most attractive female he had set eyes on, but she did not even hold a candle to Y/N. No one could ever compare to Y/N. She was a goddess and Azriel wanted to worship her for all of eternity. 

The way Y/N’s eyes glimmered as she looked down at him from the top step, her hair styled in a way that it was pulled away from her face, showing off her beautiful features. Even in the way she descended the stairs held a sense of beauty to it. Her movements were so carefree and relaxed and it made Azriel’s heart sing as that was his doing. When he had first met her, he could tell that there was some tension in her shoulders that she tried to hide, not none of that resided and it was all because of him. 

The moment she was in front of him, everyone else seemed to vanish. Azriel was looking at the most beautiful being in existence. The soft dusting of colour on her eyelids, perfectly contemplating the colour of her eyes, making them even more alluring. 

Now as Azriel pulled away to look at her he couldn’t help but smile. Wide and bright. It seemed to start a chain reaction as Y/N smiled in response. 

“You really want this?” Azriel asked. 

Y/N nodded her head, the smile on her face never vanishing. “I do. I want you, Azriel.”

Azriel melted. It was as simple as that. “I want you too. I need you.”

Y/N surged forward and pressed her lips against his once more. The sound that left Azriel was one he would be embarrassed about under any other circumstance, but with Y/N, he was fully comfortable. If he were with anyone else but Y/N he would be embarrassed at how needy he was, typically he had control and dominated the fae he was with, but with Y/N, he would happily lay back and allow her to do whatever she wanted to him. 

He was hers to control. 

The shirt Azriel wore was now completely unbuttoned as Y/N rested her hand on his bare chest, tracing his tattoos. Azriel shivered at her touch. Behind him, Azriel’s wings twitched and this did not escape Y/N’s notice. As she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, bringing her chest flush with his, she reached until her fingertips grazed his wing. Azriel moaned into Y/N’s mouth just before he pulled away. 

“I knew Illyrian wings were sensitive,” Y/N whispered as her fingers pressed down onto the sensitive wing. The very place where Azriel knew could reduce him to a whimpering mess. “But I never realised how sensitive they were.” Y/N pressed down more on that sensitive area.

Another loud moan slipped past Azriel’s lips as his grip tightened on Y/N’s hips as he pulled her until his front was pressed against her. Azriel was not sure he could have gotten any harder than he already was, yet he was proved wrong. 

“Y/N, if you keep that up, I will…” Azriel cut himself off as a rather loud whimper left him as his hips thrusted against her unwillingly. 

In his centuries of living, Azriel never allowed just anyone to touch his wings during sex. He needed to have a sense of trust with them before he even brought them into the equation. Many had tried before that trust was built up and Azriel would always stop and change back into his clothes immediately, all sense of lust evaporating from his body. 

“You will what, Azriel?” Y/N asked, continuing her torture on his wing. 

A breathy chuckle left Azriel as she looked into Y/N’s eyes. That teasing attitude glimmered in her eyes as well as another emotion Azriel couldn’t place in his pleasure clouded state. “You know exactly what.”

While her left hand continued to drag across his wings, her right trailed down his body until it reached his belt. With ease, Y/N unbuckled it, along with his trousers. Azriel bucked his hips into his touch as small gasps left him. He needed her touch more than anything. “Touch me,” Azriel said, chest heaving. “Please touch me.”

Y/N pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. “I was planning on that.”

Y/N pulled Azriel out of his boxers and he swore loudly as her hand immediately began to move up and down his length. The pre-cum allowed for a smooth movement. Small high pitched moans left Azriel as he unconsciously thrust up into Y/N’s hand, wanting more friction. 

“You are beautiful,” Y/N whispered.

“You should look in a mirror, my love,” Azriel panted as he covered her lips with his own. 

The kiss was sloppy as he continued his movements in her hand. The moment Azriel had kissed her, the hand on Azriel’s wing, flung to the back of his head and Azriel whined.

“My wings,” Azriel said. “Please touch them. I need it, Y/N.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N said. “I know it can sometimes be violating for some Illyrians.”

Azriel thrust up into her hand as he moaned. “I will get down on my knees and beg you to touch them again, Y/N. I trust you more than anyone. Now please touch them, I am so close.”

That was all Y/N needed as she gently pushed Azriel back until his knees hit the back of the bed. Y/N released her touch on him as she gently pushed down on his shoulders so he sat down before her. Azriel watched her movements, wanting nothing more than to pull her toward him. 

Finally Y/N placed her hands back upon him. But not on his burning flesh, no. She placed her hands on his trousers still around his hips and slowly began to tug them down. Azriel lifted his hips and allowed Y/N to pull them off completely leaving him completely bare, matching Y/N. 

As Y/N’s eyes met his, Azriel shivered under her gaze. It was a look he had never seen upon her face before and he wished to see it everyday, and when he was not conscious, he wished to see it in his dreams. 

“Y/N,” Azriel whispered, pulling her close to him by her thighs. He only broke eye contact for a brief moment to look at how Y/N clenched her thighs together. However he could still see her inner thighs glisten despite how much she tried to hide how affected she was by the situation. Even without the sight before him, Azriel could smell her arousal in the air, beckoning him, enticing him. 

“Please,” Azriel begged. No one had ever reduced him to this state before. Now before Y/N, he would happily beg for her, even for a simple touch, he would get down on his knees.

Y/N smiled brightly and straddled his lap, careful to keep her core away from him. Azriel gripped onto her thighs and tried to pull her closer but Y/N remained firm on her position, hovering above him. 

“Not yet,” Y/N whispered into his ear. Her voice sent shivers down his spine. 

As soon as her hand connected with his wing again, his hips jolted from the bed, eager for her to touch him once more. The feeling within him was heightening once more and he needed to reach the peak soon or he would go mad. 

It was as if Y/N could read Azriel’s mind because as soon as he opened his mouth to beg, her hand connected with his length and resumed her movements, faster and harder than before. From where his tip had been leaking furiously over the past few minutes, it provided the lubrication for Y/N to do so. Azriel rested his head on her shoulder as shameless moans fell past his lips. He did not care to hold them back anymore. 

“My love,” Azriel panted. “Please…”

Azriel did not know what he was begging for. His pleasure was almost at its peak as his chest moved up and down in quicker succession and his sounds of pleasure grew louder. It wasn’t until Y/N leaned clothes to his wing. Azriel could feel her hot breath upon it. The moment Y/N’s lips connected with the soft skin, the tip of her tongue darting between her lips, Azriel came– hard, releasing over Y/N’s hand and partially on his own chest. The bruising grip Azriel had on Y/N’s thighs gradually subsided as his breathing began to even out. Despite his pleasure hitting its peak, Azriel still wanted to keep going, he wanted to make Y/N feel as good as he did. He needed to feel her wrapped around him desperately. 

The moment Azriel came back to reality was the moment Y/N began to pull away from him. He only reached out pitifully to get her to stay. Y/N chuckled. 

“I’m only going to find a rag to wipe my hand,” Y/N said. 

“Just use my shirt,” Azriel replied and passed it to Y/N. 

Azriel watched Y/N as she wiped his come away from her hand and gently away from his chest. 

“It has been a while since I have felt that way,” Azriel admitted. 

“Has it?” Y/N questioned, tossing the shirt to the floor. “And did you enjoy it?”

Azriel gently gripped her hand and pulled her closer. “More than you know.”

Y/N softly smiled at him. “How long has it been since someone has taken care of you during sex?”

“A long time,” Azriel replied. “No one I have been with in a while has really cared about my pleasure.”

Y/N hummed before straddling him once more. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her upper body against his. “Well I care,” Y/N whispered, her lips grazing his ear. “And I want to make sure you feel amazing, and make up for all the time no one has cared.”

“Oh yeah?” Azriel replied, raising an eyebrow. “And how will you do that?”

“Like this,” Y/N said before she pushed Azriel down onto the bed with as much force as she could muster. He landed amongst the soft bedding. 

“And what else will you do?” Azriel asked. 

He wanted to see how far Y/N would go. He had no problem letting her take control of the situation but at the same time all he wanted to do was roll her over and take her then and there, eliciting many sweet noises from her lips. 

However as soon as Azriel made eye contact with Y/N, all of those wants to take control evaporated as she slowly began to reach for his wrists and Azriel allowed her. He gave up complete control and allowed Y/N to pin his wrists to the bed. Azriel knew he could easily overpower her, but he didn’t, he liked where this was going. 

Azriel could feel the heat from her core over him and he bucked his hips to try and get some friction. If he looked down and saw how wet she was, Azriel was sure that he would simply finish once more at the sight. Knowing that his pleasure had that effect on Y/N made his desire deepen. 

“What will you do now?” Azriel whispered. He tried to keep the desire out of his voice but by this point it was nearly impossible, and from the way Y/N was looking down at him, he was sure she felt the same. 

Y/N shuffled until her core was directly above his cock. With a simple movement Azriel would be able to drive it into her but he refrained. He liked Y/N having control, he liked the way she controlled his pleasure. For once he enjoyed letting someone else take charge. 

“Azriel,” Y/N said, her voice shaky. “I just want to make sure that you want this.”

“Y/N,” Azriel said with complete sincerity. “I want nothing more. I am desperate for it.”

Y/N nodded and leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. The grip she had on his wrists faltered and Azriel took it as an opportunity to wrap his arms around her body as they kissed. His hands gripped her behind as she slowly pulled away. 

“You look gorgeous,” Y/N muttered and it only caused Azriel to blush and smile, which in turn, caused Y/N to smile. “There’s that smile I love.”

As Y/N lowered herself upon Azriel, she let out the most beautiful sound Azriel had ever heard. Her warmth surrounded him and caused his fingertips to dig into her behind. He gritted his teeth at the pleasurable feeling of her tight heat. It was as if she were made just for him. 

Once he looked at where their bodies were connected, Azriel let out a loud moan, bucking his hips a little into Y/N. The grip she had on his shoulders only tightened. 

“Az…” Her voice was breathless as if she had been running miles. 

“Y/N…” Azriel sounded the same. He could barely form a coherent thought. He was so focused on the pleasure he was experiencing. No other female had ever made Azriel feel this way. No one had ever made him lose his mind after only sinking into them.

“If you don’t move, my love, I am sure I will be a dead male soon,” Azriel breathed, his hands roaming wherever he could touch. 

Y/N smiled before rising until he was barely sheathed inside her before sinking down once again. Just from that one movement alone, Azriel felt incredible. His hand easily found her breasts, gently circling her hardened nipples. Y/N only arched into him as she picked up her pace on top of him. With each movement, it sent shockwaves through Azriel’s body, he was sure that he would not last long at all. He knew that he should be embarrassed that in only a couple of minutes, he would most likely have his second orgasm of the night and it had not even been an hour. But he didn’t. He didn’t care if he lasted another thirty seconds, the only thing that mattered was that he was sharing this experience with Y/N. 

Azriel’s hands roamed around her body as she rolled her hips on top of him, trying to find the perfect pace. The soft moans slipping past Y/N’s lips was beautiful but he wanted more. He wanted to hear her lose control. 

Azriel sat up from where he was laying down and pressed his chest against hers as she continued to move. With their closeness, Azriel could feel her nipples grazing her own chest with every movement. 

“You sound beautiful,” Azriel panted, feeling her clench around him. “So fucking perfect for me.”

His left hand pushed between their bodies until his fingers could circle the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. As soon as he made contact, Y/N’s movements faltered as she moaned loudly. “Azriel.” 

There was something about the way Y/N said his name that made him want to worship her. It was like a prayer on her lips. A sinful prayer. 

The hands on Azriel’s shoulders pushed him back once more as Y/N moved her hips faster and harder on top of him, sending him deeper in her than before. The movements on her clit didn’t subside, they only increased as Y/N chased her pleasure. 

“I am so close, Az,” Y/N said, blissed out on top of him. 

“So am I,” Azriel replied. “Take what you need, Y/N. Take it all.”

Azriel was not sure he could take anymore but as soon as Y/N hand brushed his wings once again, his orgasm crashed down upon him. It was more intense than before and he loudly cursed as his hip bucked up into Y/N. 

He could feel Y/N clench tightly around him as she came. The most beautiful sound came from her lips. If Azriel could hear it on repeat for the rest of his life, he would. Y/N seemed to chant his name as her pleasure reached its peak. And in that moment, Azriel decided that he never wanted to hear anyone say his name like that ever again. Only Y/N.

“More,” Y/N demanded. “I want more.”

Azriel’s own heart beat rapidly and he wasn’t even sure he could handle another orgasm himself but the way Y/N begged him had something within him stirring. One more. 

Y/N was limp upon his chest so, without pulling out, Azriel flipped Y/N onto her back. She groaned as he shifted within her. 

“Can I move yet?” Azriel said. 

“Give me a second,” Y/N replied, her eyes glazed over as she looked into Azriel’s.

Having Y/N underneath him was not what he ever expected when he first met her, but it was a welcome surprise. And a surprise he wished to have more than once. 

“Please move,” Y/N said quietly. 

Azriel obliged happily and slowly pulled out only to thrust back in slowly. 

Y/N only whined. “I’m not going to break, Azriel. Fuck me harder than that.”

Azriel was surprised by her tone but gladly abided by her request as he thrust into her harder and faster. Drawing out more sweet sounds from Y/N. 

“My love, you feel incredible,” Azriel muttered in her ear, picking up his pace even more. “You were made just for me, weren’t you?”

Y/N gripped onto his shoulders, her manicured nails dug into him. “Just for you, Az. Just for you. I love you” 

Azriel’s movements faltered for a brief moment before he groaned into her neck, kissing the area just below her ear. “I love you too.”

“I’m going to come again, Az,” Y/N nearly shouted as his hips pistoned into hers. “Please let me come again!”

“Do whatever you wish, Y/N,” Azriel muttered, knowing that the moment Y/N came, he would be extremely close behind. 

“Fuck,” Y/N whimpered. “I’m coming, Az. Just for you.”

The moment Y/N began to clench around him was the moment Azriel lost control completely. The sound that left Azriel as he reached his climax was unlike any other sound he had made before. It was high and needy as if he had been deprived of pleasure for centuries. And for the most part he had. This pleasure coursing through his veins was unlike any other and Azriel needed it more than anything. If he could remain buried within Y/N forever he would. 

“Fuck, Az,” Y/N whimpered as she came down from her high, panting hard. 

Azriel still couldn’t form words. He simply pressed a kiss to the hollow of her throat and trailed his lips up. Her skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and Azriel could taste it. It only made him want to taste all of her. 

“Y/N,” Azriel muttered, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “My Y/N.”

“Yours,” Y/N mumbled and Azriel felt her arms slacken from where they were wrapped around his neck. 

With a great reluctance, Azriel pulled out, feeling Y/N’s body stiffen and then relax once more. Her chest still heaved up and down as she caught her breath. 

As soon as he laid down on his side, he pulled her to his chest, lips brushing her forehead. It had been a while since anyone had made him come more than once in one night. And he was not sure how he survived before. His heart was racing like he had been working out for hours. 

“Was that okay for you, Azriel?” Y/N asked. 

“Okay?” Azriel questioned. “Y/N, I have never felt so good in my life.”

Y/N chuckled, it was breathless and Azriel wished to hear it again. “Well that makes two of us.”

Azriel pressed another kiss against her forehead as Y/N’s arms wrapped around him. The two laid there for a while, slowly catching their breath and allowing their bodies to relax. 

“I haven’t allowed someone to take control during sex in a long time,” Azriel said, interrupting the comforting silence.

Y/N tilted her head to look at him. “Why did you allow me?”

“Because I trust you,” Azriel replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I trust you more than anyone.”

“That cannot be true,” Y/N said. “You have only known me for a few months.”

“That is true but you must know, Y/N, that around you I have been happier than I have ever been. Even before my brothers found their mates and started their own families, I always felt like there was something missing.” Azriel tenderly caressed her cheek. “And you were that missing thing. You were destined to be in my life.”

“That means a lot to me, Azriel,” Y/N said. “When I spoke to you on that bench, I never thought that you would become the most important person in my life.”

At that confession, Azriel seemed to melt. Was this what he had been missing out on all these years? The affection and words that would be tattooed on his heart for the rest of his life. 

Azriel smiled. “I’m the most important person in your life?”

“Of course you are,” Y/N replied. “Why wouldn’t you be?”

Insecurity began to fill up within Azriel as she avoided eye contact. “I was sure that I have never been the most important person in somebody’s life.”

Y/N gently cupped his cheek and forced him to look at her. “Well you are in mine, my love.”

The two laid wrapped in each other's arms for a while longer. Azriel wasn’t sure about how much time had passed as he willed his body to relax but it was as if his senses were in overdrive. His mind was also racing. Y/N told him that she loved him. Did she mean it? Or was it just in the heat of the moment. 

It was as if Y/N could read Azriel’s mind when she suddenly sat up. “I did mean it by the way. When I told you that I love you.”

Azriel followed her movements and sat up.

“I didn’t plan for it to come out like that,” Y/N said. “I wanted to tell you in a more romantic way than a pleasure-fueled one.”

The smile that brightened Azriel’s face was one one of beauty and pure relief. Y/N gently cupped his face and smiled back at him. 

“I hope the feeling is mutual,” Y/N mumbled against his lips. 

“The feeling is mutual,” Azriel replied. “Y/N, I love you so much. It always makes me wonder how I could love someone as much as I love you. I only realised it after that night we kissed for the first time. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, every waking moment, I am consumed by you. My shadows seek you out constantly. I am in love with your smile, your laugh, your kindness. I never thought I would have such a strong feeling for someone before until you came into my life. Y/N, before you I was simply existing, now I am living.”

Tears sprung to Y/N’s eyes as she held onto Azriel a little tighter. “Do you mean that?”

“I do,” Azriel replied. “Y/N, you own my heart and you have ever since we met.”

“You know, I never thought I would find someone who loves me,” Y/N admitted. “My father always told me that there was someone out there but I never believed him. When he told me stories about him and my mother, I always dreamed of having a love like theirs.” Y/N leaned her forehead against Azriel’s. “And now I do. I love you, Azriel. It took me a while to work out what these strange feelings I was dealing with were. It turns out that they were love.”

Their lips met in a gentle, passionate kiss as Azriel pulled her back down to the bed, pulling him close to him. He felt lighter. He felt as if he had accomplished everything he wanted to in his life. 

After all this time, Azriel could finally say that he was happy. 

TAGLIST:

@justdreamstars @thesunloveschips @hijabi-desi-bookworm @mischiefmanagers @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @nightcourt-daydreaming @pinksmellslikelove @schultzlindsey5 @mell-bell @we-were-beautiful @fightmedraco @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @luvmoo @daily-dose-of-sass @applerubyy @tonysttank @just-a-social-casualty-1 @scatteredstardustt @i-m-in-loki-s-army @katlyndawn51 @witchymomfrien @tele86 @sfhsgrad-blog @judig92 @prettylittlewrites @mybestfriendmademe @aria-chikage @phoenix666stuff @acphengene @tothestarsandwhateverend @littlelunatica @darkbloodsly @impossibelle @mysticalfuncollectorus @books-and-lit @acphengene @mindofthescattered @loving-and-dreaming @shakiraa-a @lilah-asteria @krowiathemythologynerd @rcarbo1 @bugg06 @darlingoftheshadowss @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @lsminddump @badgerstorms-art

TAGLIST CLOSED

[ode-to-melpomene]

"Everyone's a Critic"

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader Synopsis: Art is in the eye of the beholder... Word Count: 1861 Warnings: None. Art gallery meet cute. A hint of awkwardness and embarrassment!

Jason was used to being overlooked.

In a sea of bodies he often found himself standing still. A lone rock in the middle of a raucous tide that slipped around him, dousing his cold, weathered face with seafoam. It wasn't so bad, being a rock–especially at events like these. Jason stood, like a rock, in the center of a crowd, and watched the crowd part around him.

Why would they look at him? He had mastered the art of appearing smaller than he really was–broad shoulders drawn into a tight hunch, obscuring his height. Eyes to the ground and his back to the wall. Ignore me, his presence seemed to say.

Why would they look at him when Dick fluttered about the crowd with a broad smile, a proverbial halo above his head from the soft, golden light of the venue? Why would they look at him when Tim's cleverness and etiquette outshone his? Why would they look at him when Damian spoke so maturely for his age, or Cass reveled in her most recent ballet performance, or Bruce existed?

Sometimes it was better to be the dead Wayne.

Sometimes.

The venue could have been worse. The Gotham Museum of Art was familiar to him these days, after Cass’s numerous performances and Bruce’s subsequent donations. Jason had lost track long ago of how many grateful galas had been hosted in thanks for his father’s contributions. They even had a plaque posted somewhere for Bruce–or was that Gotham General Hospital? He couldn’t remember at this point.

It was easy to hide in the shadows between the paintings, the spotlights above them only spanning the canvas’s borders. Hide at the edge of the crowd, his head ducked down, shoulders drawn tight- it was what he always did.

Until a tittering couple pressed too close to him, admiring the painting he stood beside. Ivory nails tangled in a suit jacket, heels clicking against the parquet floors. Too loud. Too close. He pushed off the wall as they approached, ignoring the side-cast glances. He felt judged at events like this. He could handle being ignored, or even ostracized. But criticism hurt. He lifted his head for the first time in what felt like ages, taking in the crowd.

There. A quiet spot in front of a broad painting, its oil surface unmarred by the demanding gazes of the gala’s attendees. Jason pushed through the crowd with his head high, watching as the chattering sea parted around him. His long stride carried him through the throng as he fled his once barren spot and approached his newfound haven. His lips parted in a soft exhale at the sight of a bench–he could sit with his back to the crowd and-

Jason’s stride faltered. There was already someone sitting on the bench, a figure with their back to the crowd. How had he not noticed them before?

The spotlight on the art cast a soft glow across your front, blanketed in a warm haze that brightened the dark clothes you wore. A deep-gray blouse fading to black, well-ironed slacks. Jason’s eyes dropped to your shoes–old and worn compared to the rest of the outfit. Tired, and scuffed, the black finish faded with age and wear. A cocktail server on break, it seemed.

When Jason lifted his gaze, he found you already staring. He jumped slightly, blinking once, twice. You smiled softly–it was a bone-tired smile that eased the tension in your brow and smoothed the hard look in your eyes. 

“Sorry, I…” he started, frozen like a deer caught in headlights. He rubbed the back of his neck and hunched his shoulders. “Didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not,” you answered quietly. “Did you want somewhere to sit?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t.”

Jason bobbed his head in a half-hearted nod and rounded the bench. He sat at the opposite side, putting as much space between the two of you as possible. He leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees, eyes fixated on the ground for a moment. After a long pause, he lifted his head to take in the painting in front of him.

It seemed to come to life the longer he took it in. The background bustled with liveliness. Parents talking–maybe arguing, he thought–in a doorway. The preoccupied cat ignoring a mouse that went otherwise unseen. Children’s toys scattered at the edges of the canvas. His eyes roved over the child at the center of the canvas’s foreground, alone on a couch, gaze meeting the viewer. It was a modernized oil painting, vastly different from the Renaissance-like pieces that lined the wall–maybe that was why this piece went ignored throughout the night.

“It doesn’t really fit the theme, but I still like it,” you spoke up. What he first took as timidity now seemed contemplative as he turned to see you gazing up at the painting. “Seems I’m one of the few.” You shrugged, a tender smile across your lips.

Jason took in the muted colors of the background and the quiet intensity of the scene. “It feels very… isolated.” You turned your head sharply to look at him, brows raising in surprise. He quickly looked between you and the painting. “It’s… the kid feels really alone, you know? Like the whole world is-”

“Moving on without him?”

Jason clamped his jaw firmly shut as he tipped his head to meet your gaze. Your eyes sparkled with warmth and excitement, chasing away the exhaustion that once clung to you.

“Moving around him,” Jason answered, holding your intense stare, his brows furrowing slightly. “His parents are just-” he gestured to the painting, “ignoring him, I guess. I mean, he’s alone in the center of the painting, while everything else is distracted. Look, even the wallpaper looks busy, and he’s just… wearing muted clothes and sitting on a gray couch.”

“It’s ivory and phthalo blue.”

“What?”

“The couch. It’s ivory and phthalo blue, and a little bit of brown umber mixed into the shadows. Not gray.” You cocked your head to the side and offered him a crooked, toothy grin. His eyes dropped to your lips before moving back to your eyes. “I… like your interpretation a lot. ‘Moving around him.’ You’re the first person tonight to give it any thought, honestly.”

Jason narrowed his eyes as he studied you, his brows pinched together. His usual scowl sat on his lips, the one that tended to drive people away. Instead, you smiled sweetly and turned your attention back to the canvas. You didn’t stare through him–you stared at him. For once, it didn’t make his skin crawl. It didn’t feel like you were forcibly filling the silence.

“I was hoping for some exposure tonight, really. You know, big Wayne event, good time to show off,” you said with a melodic chuckle that sent goosebumps down his arms. “But no one seems particularly interested in my work. Everyone’s a critic, right? Except you. You get it.”

Jason blinked owlishly as his brain raced to catch up.

“You painted this?”

You hummed in the affirmative, gazing up fondly at your work.

His eyes snapped up at the painting and then back down to you. “I’m sorry, I- I just assumed you-”

“You’re not the only one,” you answered quickly. His shoulders eased. You picked up on his meaning so quickly without an ounce of offense in your tone. “I don’t really care how people do or don’t, in this case, see me. At least one person took the time to look.”

The tension in your shoulders eased with a visible sense of relief. Tonight wasn’t a total loss. Sure, you hadn’t received any commissions, and had been asked to refill someone’s drink one too many times, but there had been some success in the end. It only took one admirer to make hours of labor worthwhile.

“I think it’s beautiful.”

You jerked your head to stare at him, starved for feedback. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I… don’t know much about art–I prefer reading, honestly, but, uh, I think you did a great job with the colors. It does a really good job of framing the kid, y’know?” Jason glanced at you, his cheeks warming at your dazzled expression before looking back at the painting. “He’s muted, so it kind of draws your eyes to the middle instead of the super bright background. It’s like the opposite effect of some of the others.” He gestured over his shoulder at a few of the other paintings. “It definitely gives that… isolated vibe. I just… I guess it makes you wonder how the kid is feeling in all of this. He feels lonely.”

He could feel your heated stare grazing his skin. You weren’t leering at him like some of the others did. He held on to the reverent silence and fought to quell the warm blush that dusted his cheeks.

“You have a nice nose.”

Jason’s face flushed scarlet. He snapped his gaze to yours, brows furrowed in confusion.

“What?”

“Sorry, I-” His gaze dropped to your lips as they pursed in embarrassment and then parted with a shaky inhale. “I just- sorry, I do some sculpture on the side–not very well, I think, but I’m trying–and, well, I’ve been working on this one piece and I just can’t get the nose right, and you- you’ve got a really nice nose and I was trying to… memorize it… for when I work on it later…”

Jason held your gaze for a long moment. You shifted nervously in your seat at the way he straightened his back and regarded you closely. Your mouth opened and closed, tongue feeling tacky against the roof of your mouth.

“I’m sorry, that was-”

“Do you have a picture of it?”

“Of… what?”

“The sculpture. Can I see it?”

Your eyes widened as you blinked slowly at him, your mind racing to catch up. You tilted your head slightly to the side, staring at him in awe. “Yeah, I… um, I don’t have a picture, but- uh, my studio is only a couple of blocks away. Technically it’s the gallery’s studio-” you gestured widely to the gala venue. “But I use it for some of my projects. You could- do you want-?”

He smiled. The stone-faced, impassive, wall of a man that you had been sitting beside for who knows how long actually smiled a full, toothy grin. The crooked scar that crossed over his cheek and jaw danced with a subtle grace. Crow's feet decorated the corner of his pretty green eyes. You wondered if you could maybe match their shade.

You took in a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then breathed out a soft sigh. His gaze dipped to your lips at the movement, then back to your eyes.

“Would you… want to come to my studio?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

[bones4thecats]

Could I request Azul, Silver, and Jamil with a baker reader?

What If Their S/O Was A Baker?

Type of Writing: Request Name: What If Their S/O Was A Baker? Characters: Azul Ashengrotto, Silver Vanrouge, and Jamil Viper Requester: Anonymous

A/N: This is slightly shorter than my average piece, but I have like 6 other requests to get through so, bite me😑

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🐙 As we all know, Azul loves to eat sweet foods. It falls into the category of unhealthy foods (which he loves) vs healthy foods (which is canonically his least favorite)

🐙 When he had first seen you bake, he had come back from a housewarden meeting and smelled both a sweet and a more fungal-like scent lingering in the air, and that mix made him slightly fearful but more curious

🐙 He had walked into Mostro Lounge's kitchen and saw that you and Jade were cooking together while Floyd sat down and slept at the counter

🐙 You had looked up from the cookies you were frosting to look like small underwater creatures such as stingrays, clownfish, sea slugs, and even a small bundle of eels like Floyd and Jade, and smiled

" Azul! Come here, I made you something a little bit ago! You came right on time too, it's still a little warm. "

🐙 Walking up behind you, you had reached into a basket with a sea-shell printing that Azul had gifted you a couple weeks prior for your personal usage, and you had pulled out a small cookie

🐙 But not just any cookie, one that was molded at the bottom to look like small tentacles. And as if led upwards, it began to form a small body, the body of a slightly purple and blue octopus

" Since I was making little sea creatures and I thought that you'd be tired from the meeting, I figured I could make you something to heighten your mood! " " Well, you did your job well, my Pearl. "

🐙 Before Azul could actually take a bite of the baked good, you had shook your finger in a 'not-so-fast' way and lifted the rest of the basket's cloth, revealing a small litter of baby octopus in various positions. One even was spilling ink!

🐙 Chuckling at the gesture, Azul laid the sweet inside the basket and hugged you before kissing your forehead with delicacy

" I love you, Y/N. " " And I love you, my little octopus~ "

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⚔️ Let's be honest here; Silver definitely falls asleep when the aroma of your sweets enter his nose. No doubt.

⚔️ Whenever you had started baking and your boyfriend began to catch a whiff of the baking items, he would close his eyes and begin to let his mind wander as his eyes began to close

⚔️ But, when you had baked while he was out training, you had taken a small bag of them outside and noticed that he was sitting on a bench, sleeping of course

⚔️ He wouldn't be your boyfriend if he didn't catch his 29th nap of the day

⚔️ Holding the bag as you smiled at the silver-haired male you called yours, you heard your name being called out by a familiar voice; Lilia Vanrouge, Silver's adoptive father

" Y/N~ I just so happened to notice that you have a bag of delectibles. If I may ask, who are they four? They better be for my son. " " They're for Silver, I noticed that his naps seemed to be getting in the way of having literally any kind of food in his stomach, so I decided to just make these and have him get something in during a break in training. "

⚔️ Looking at your resting boyfriend, you chuckled;

" Though, it seems I was a hint late for that. "

⚔️ Lilia smiled and thanked you for considering his son's meals in balance with his training, as he held that in high regards. And as he floated away to train Sebek for the time being, you laid the treats in your boyfriend's bag and kissed his forehead before walking away

⚔️ Unbeknownst to you, Silver had opened his eyes once you left and smiled. What did he ever do to deserve such an amazing S/O as you?

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🐍 This guy. This guy- he literally does everything in his dorm. And it drives you insane whenever he has to start rushing around to bake and cook for a surprise party that Kalim decided to throw

🐍 So, when you had spoke to Kalim and learned hours prior, while Jamil was away grabbing stuff from down the mountain, Kalim got news that one of his siblings was dropping by and he wanted to throw a party

🐍 And at that party, he wanted a lot of baked goods. His sibling, he said, had a very large sweet-tooth

🐍 You took this opportunity and told Kalim that you were going to bake up some stuff and wanted some recommendations from the person closest to the guest, making him smile and ramble for a little while

🐍 So, when Jamil came back into the dorm and smelled a strong scent of sugars and spices, he had thought that Kalim tried cooking again... or maybe Lilia came back to destroy his kitchen

🐍 Speed-walking to the area in particular, Jamil stood in shock seeing you wearing Scarbia-branded oven mitts as you took out a small tray of freshly baked pistachio baklava

" Y/N? What are you doing in here? "

🐍 When you smiled at him and told him that you had taken care of all the long-time desserts and began to time the long-time main courses and sides for the impromptu party for the Al-Asim sibling, Jamil both sighed in annoyance at Kalim and he slightly chuckled at your appearance

🐍 You had flour on your pants and some batter on your face with frosting and a few sprinkles, and seeing the normally clean you look like such a mess made him laugh. This must be why you laugh when you visited him in the kitchen week prior during the last large-serving party of Kalim's