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prythianpages · 9 months ago

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I've Been Waiting For You | Azriel

summary: Azriel finally meets the one he's been longing for. His mate.

warnings: mentions of death (since the suriel & reader are friends); some angst but also fluff because Az deserves to be happy ♡

a/n: This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (: The lyrics kind of reminded me of Alice & Jasper from twilight and how she had a vision of meeting him. This does go back and forth a lot in the beginning between past and present and came out longer than I thought it would. It's 9.6K words (which for me is long lol.) I apologize if there are any spelling errors. I've read this multiple times but somehow, always miss a couple.

As the moonlight dances upon the water's surface, the river transforms into a liquid ribbon of silver, weaving through the city of Starlight. Anticipation fills the air as Azriel walks across the bridge that spans the Sidra, his massive Illyrian wings glistening in midnight hues under the pale moonlight.

Shadows play hide-and-seek as they travel through the night, drawn to the silhouette of a female figure. An intruder. Yet, Azriel's shadows dare to whisper something different into his ears.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your voice, carried by the wind, reaches him like a sweet caress, daring to awaken something deep within him. Beautiful. His shadows respond with a frenzy, a whirl of darkness singing wild tales into his ears, urging him forward. Meanwhile, his brain screams at the potential threat.

More tendrils of darkness dart toward you, ignoring their master’s orders to return. You don’t seem bothered by them. In fact, you seem to welcome them as if they’re old friends of yours.

Azriel swallows, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, unsure what to make of this.

“Who are you?”

Finally, you turn around and Azriel feels like the wind has been knocked out of him when his gaze meets yours. In the midst of the surrounding darkness, your eyes gleam with an inexplicable brightness. Specs of silver glimmer in your eyes, mirroring the stars above, as they shine back at him.

“That’s for you to decide,” you reply with a smile that carries both hope and a sense of knowing as you follow after him and take a step forward.

“But for now, I’d like to speak with your High Lady.”

Months before…

The brilliance of a thousand stars shine down on you and the night seems to hold its breath, as if it too, awaits the whispered prophecies from the celestial expanse above. Like always, you are itching to unveil them with your finely attuned senses. A gust of cool wind brushes through your hair, sending shivers down your exposed skin. Pulling your gaze away from the night sky, you turn in time to see a cloaked figure approaching like a shadow in the night.

Your lips curve into a smile. “Hello, friend.”

“y/n.” The Suriel greets you, hovering beside you. Then, not missing another beat, he says, “I told her Rhysand was her mate.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, a gasp escaping your lips. “You did not.”

“I did.” He grins back at you, flashing you his stained teeth.

You can’t help but laugh a little at your dear old friend. The Suriel lets out a rattled sound you discern as a laugh as he joins you. Always the one for dramatics. You still remember hearing about his first encounter with Feyre Archeron and how he told her to stay with the High Lord.

“I told her she must stay with the High Lord.”

“Did you specify which one?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“I’m sure she handled it well,” you respond but your smile fades, giving way to a wistful expression. “She’s lucky. Not only is she made but the Cauldron has blessed her with a mate. The High Lord of the Night Court at that.”

The weight of his gaze settles upon you. You’re aware that your words carry a tinge of envy, a sentiment that feels unjust when considering everything Feyre has endured. The Suriel, ever perceptive, acknowledges this as well. He chooses not to remind you and indulges you instead.

“The Cauldron has blessed you as well, my child.”

“Have you seen it?”

Hope sparks in your eyes as you turn to face him. His eyes, pools of ancient wisdom, seem to pierce through the veils of time and secrets. You sense one of them unfolding. But he only gives you a teasing glimpse.

“Perhaps.”

With a furrow in your brows, you lift your head back up to glare at the night sky. The stars seem to blink at you in a teasing manner, as if finding amusement in keeping this secret from you.

“How come I haven’t seen it?”

“You will soon.” He reassures, following your gaze upwards. A dance of amusement swirls within the depths of his eyes. “He’s waited centuries for you. Count your stars lucky that your waiting won’t be as long.”

Back to the present…

Velaris lived up to its name. A dream compared to the horrors of the city you grew up in. But as the city sparkles and comes to life at the darkening hour, all your attention is drawn to the male before you. He’s even more breathtaking in person. Everything about him is classically beautiful and the moon seems to agree, shining down on him and casting an ethereal glow on the golden-brown of his skin.

As Azriel continues to approach you, his wings fold gracefully behind him. His gaze is locked onto yours and though his eyes are cautious and analytical, there’s a warm shiver running down your spine. The desire to lose yourself in the hazel depths of his eyes becomes an irresistible pull.

Before you know it, the shadows brushing against your arms rise and come to rest against your eyes in a blindfold. Darkness engulfs you, and the sensation of weightlessness takes hold as Azriel winnows both of you. You land on a soft cushion–a chair. The dark tendrils leave your eyes and wrap around your wrists and legs, binding them together.

“Stay here.” Azriel says, the shadows wrapped around your limbs tightening in a silent warning.

A chuckle escapes from you and when your eyes meet his again, you flash him a mischievous smile. It widens when he’s the first to fold, quickly averting his gaze. He has no clue. You’re exactly where you want to be.

He leaves the room and your eyes finally take in your surroundings. Veiled curtains made of midnight blue silk drape the expansive windows, pulled back to allow moonlight to filter through. Shelves line the walls, housing collections of ancient artifacts and magical trinkets. A large desk, crafted from dark, polished wood rests before you. Your gaze fixates on the wall behind it, where a captivating portrait of the female you seek rests.

The door behind you swings open, and you turn to witness the graceful entrance of the female from the portrait. Feyre, the Cursebreaker and High Lady of the Night Court. She's a vision of night and beauty, her golden-brown hair cascading down her exposed back, revealing glimpses of moon phases etched along her spine.

“High Lady,” you say in greeting, bowing your head in respect.

Surprisingly, the High Lord doesn't accompany her. Instead, it's Azriel who trails behind her. Her calm blue eyes assess you as she takes a seat across from you. Azriel stands guard behind her and you feel his shadows watching your every breath.

"And who might you be?"

“I’m y/n,” you respond, choosing your next words carefully. “An old friend of the Suriel’s. I’ve come to pledge my allegiance to you and offer my help.”

Something flickers in her blue eyes at the mention of the Suriel and her stoic expression falters, if only for a moment. You send her a sympathetic smile, your own heart aching at the mention of the fearsome creature you both held dear.

“Your help?” She echoes.

"She’s a seer," Azriel interjects, his voice setting your heart alight as there's no hint of disgust or apprehension in his tone.

Your kind is often regarded with hostility. He might not know your connection...yet. But he’s paid you enough attention to recognize your abilities and appears to be indifferent about them. If the Suriel were still alive, you know he’d laugh at your slight delusion.

"I am," you confirm. "And I know your sister is one too." You don’t miss the tension in Azriel’s body at the mention of the cauldron-made fae, but you don't dwell on it as you can also sense Feyre's protectiveness. "She has great potential. I can help her hone her skills. Together, we can—"

"No," Azriel growls protectively. His sharp interruption has you startling in your seat and hope deflates as you feel the intensity of his glare.

Feyre raises a hand, signaling him to stand back. “Why should I trust you?”

“Let me show you.”

Months before…

“By the Cauldron, what did you get yourself into?”

The Suriel grins mischievously, his tattered cloak barely clinging to his bony form. He graciously accepts the cloak you offer, a luxurious piece made of the softest velvet in the darkest shade of black you could find. A purr escapes him as he revels in its warmth. "Nothing," he responds coyly, the satisfaction evident in the bounce of his form as he hovers in the air.

You shoot him a pointed look, yearning to know what he was up to. You’re certain it was no good. “Sure,” you retort and then gesture toward the crackling fire you started. “I also made dinner.”

“You spoil me.”

“It’s what friends do.”

"Friend," he muses, the white pools of his eyes burning into your soul, as he turns to you. "As a friend, I should tell you that your dress is absolutely atrocious on you. Cobalt blue is more your color."

With a glare, you playfully throw the roasted chicken over the fire at his face. He effortlessly catches it with his mouth, cackling as he chews on the tender piece of meat.

"What do you know about fashion? All you do is thirst for robes."

“You forget that I am older than the bones of this world. I know everything about everything. I also cannot lie.”

"Doesn't stop you from hiding the truth," you respond cheekily, and he hums in agreement,

Silence falls as he seats himself beside you on the ground. He breaks it a couple of moments later. “Remember what I told you last time?”

You release a deep sigh because you do remember. The mere thought haunts you nearly every night, and you’re often burdened by the heavy weight of it. Your shoulders slump in response. “Why can't you do it yourself?”

“It is your fate, not mine,” he states simply, a reminder of the immutable laws of destiny.

“I’m not ready.”

You don’t think you ever will be and suddenly, you’re that fragile sixteen year old again, who had to run away from the only place you called home to escape a cruel fate. The one who was left to navigate through her new onset of divine abilities alone.

That is, until, the fateful night you had thrown your cloak over a tree branch to dry. It had been stained by blood after a rough and almost deadly encounter with a stray naga so you had spent all morning cleaning it in the river nearby. Completely unaware of the Suriel you were summoning.

“You do not fear me?”

“That is mine,” you had said through clenched teeth with a deep rooted glare.

In the midst of your tug of war with the Suriel, your cloak tore in half. In that moment, you braced yourself for the dark creature's wrath. However, something in you captured his attention that day, and he chose not to unleash his fury upon you. He decided to take you under his wing instead.

He recognized your lineage without a single word spoken about it. He could sense your power coursing through your veins, waiting to be unraveled. After decades of patience and practicing, he was there to witness the formation of stars weaving themselves into the depths of your eyes. The mark of your seer abilities.

As always, the Suriel reads you like an open book. He can sense your insecurity, your hesitancy. But, in equal measure, he can sense your power, your potential.

“You will be,” he insists, his words carrying the unwavering certainty of the all-knowing creature he is. “You must guide and open the eyes of Elain Archeron the same way I did for you.”

Your throat tightens. “When?”

“Soon.”

And when you look up to gaze at the night sky, the stars align for you. A cascade of visions unfurls, pouring over you like a celestial waterfall. Your eyes become a myriad of galaxies and ears are teased with glimpses of conversations and whispers from the stars above. One moment, you’re in a forest, standing before a female figure crouched over a cloaked one.

“The tracking…I knew of it.”

Then, a rattling breath. “Leave this world a better place than how you found it.”

Abruptly, the scene shifts, and you stand in an enchanting city of starlight, gazing at the expansive river before you as anticipation fills the air. He comes for you. Azriel, the shadowsinger. The name resonates in the echoes of your mind.

Then, the final vision envelopes you, drawing you into the depths of mesmerizing hazel eyes. The voice that accompanies it is carried by the enchantment of night, gently caressing against your ears.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

Mate. That is your mate. Azriel, the–

“Do you see it now?”

With a sharp intake of breath, you’re pulled from the downpour of your visions, only to find your senses clouded with tears that pool at the corners of your eyes. How cruel, you think, your heart twisting in agony. And though meeting your mate–your fated companion–was among your greatest dreams, you no longer want it. Not if it means you’ll lose your greatest companion.

You can live without knowing your mate. After all, you’re doing so at this very moment. The Suriel has been your friend for decades. Two souls brought together by their mutual loneliness. An all knowing creature and a seer. Together, you’re a powerful duo, navigating through the fated intricacies of Prythian. You’d be lost without him.

“Please don’t go,” you’re begging.

The Suriel smiles but it’s not his usual mischievous grin. This time, a tinge of sorrow lingers in the curve of his lips, casting his expression in a veil of sadness.

“I have to. It’s my time to go,” he says. “Just promise me one thing?”

“Anything.”

“That when it’s your time to shine, you’ll find Feyre. Help her make this world a better place.”

Back to Present

Feyre blinks back tears as she withdraws from your mind. She turns her head toward the Shadowsinger behind her, and for a moment, fear grips you. You allowed her to see the revelation of Azriel being your mate but only because it was deeply entwined with the other pertinent visions.

“Release her.”

The shadows release their grip on you and you let out a deep exhale in relief. But the inky tendrils don’t leave your side. They linger and hover over you and at this, Azriel’s eyebrows furrow.

Feyre extends her hand out toward you. Her blue eyes are warm, a gentle reassurance that she’d harbor your secret for you. A smile graces her lips, one that you're happy to reciprocate.

“I’ll gladly accept your help but let me speak with Elain first. You may stay here. There’s a spare room upstairs. Azriel will show you around.”

Following his High Lady’s orders, Azriel shows you around the grand estate. He’s a bit reserved around you and you don’t blame him. Both a blessing and a curse, your visions offer insight into his world, yet you're a mere stranger imposing on the family he protects fiercely.

And as he finally shows you to your room, the one right next to his, you can only hope that someday, he’ll welcome you too. After all, he is your mate.

Elain Archeron is infinitely beautiful. Inside and out. She is gentle and sweet and you see why some mistake her kindness for weakness. But it took only days for you to become well aware of the strength and power she harbors deep within.

While your abilities were limited to what the stars wanted to show you, you sensed that hers were limitless. With the right training, she could summon visions at her call, anticipate anyone's move. You wanted to help her achieve that and prove those people that saw her as something fragile wrong. Though reluctant toward your help at first, Elain was kind enough to listen to you and consider the advice you gave. It took some further convincing but you knew she was itching to unravel the depths of her powers too.

But it's proving to be a challenge. A hard and exhausting one. You're not surprised. It took you many years to become attuned to your powers. What is surprising, however, are Azriel's feelings for her. They're obvious and plain to see and could you blame him? Elain is wonderful...and you can't help but compare yourself to her. She's everything you're not.

Upon your arrival, you had been set on making Azriel fall for you. That was, until, you realized he was already entangled in the threads of another's heart. Could it be that the Suriel, in his all knowing wisdom, purposefully shielded you from such revelations about your mate? To delay the shattering of your dreams?

Now, you were just content to focus on your task at hand. To help Elain the way the Suriel did with you, even if Azriel was there as a safety net for her every session. Even if the way he was well attuned to every shift of her expression sent a sharp pain stabbing through your heart. He was blissfully unaware of your connection, clouded by his affection for Elain.

And you were tired of chasing after males. It's why you shot down Feyre's suggestion of confessing to Azriel. You dreamed of having a mate, pleaded to the Cauldron even. Now, you realize, that you want Azriel to like you for you. To chose you too the way Feyre did with Rhysand. If Elain was the person he chose at the moment, then so be it.

"I don't chase. I attract," you told Feyre. The same words you had uttered to the Suriel years ago after he poked fun at you over a failed romance. One of many, unfortunately.

"The only thing you'll attract with that attitude of of yours is a dark cloud of shadows," The Suriel had laughed at you, earning an icy glare from you.

But Feyre is much nicer about it than your dear old friend. She gives you an encouraging smile instead and wishes you luck on your upcoming session with Elain.

Your session with Elain ends terribly–with her screaming in pain and Azriel glaring at you and telling you to go, despite your attempts at apologizing. You spend the following days, weeks even, trying to make up for it. You slowed down in pace in your exercises with Elain, despite her protests. She held no animosity toward you at the dark turn that session had made.

You also buried yourself into any book you could find about seers in the magnificent Night Court library, grieving and longing for the Suriel. He would know what to do, and know exactly how to help. It’s the mere thought of him that fuels your determination to keep trying, despite how much you want to leave. It’s laughable almost, how in the midst of so many people, the sense of loneliness weighs heavier on you than it ever did in the solitude of Prythian's forests.

But perhaps, a break wouldn't be such a bad idea? You think as your gaze lands on an intriguing cover. It's a work of pure fiction. The ideal escape from reality. Retrieving it from its shelf, you settle into one of the plush chairs and immerse yourself into the words etched onto the pages.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty.”

A nudge against your leg startles you awake, and as you blink away the remnants of sleep, your eyes widen at the sight of Azriel standing before you. Sleeping beauty, the words sink in, painting a soft blush over your cheeks.

“You missed dinner.”

“Oh.”

You turn your head, wincing at the dull ache in your neck from sleeping in an awkward position. The soft glow of the moon greets you through one of the library's windows. You don’t know when you had fallen asleep but you must’ve been out for hours. When you face Azriel again, your gaze drops to his hands, where he holds a carefully arranged plate of food. Your stomach growls as the scent hits you and your eyes linger on the generous serving of potatoes–your favorite–in comparison to the other vegetables and meat.

“Is that for me?” you ask, and immediately curse yourself for the seemingly silly question. You blame it on the lingering grasp of sleep, still reluctant to release its full grip on you.

"No, it's for the rats that come out at night," he replies, lips twitching upwards at the reaction it stirs from you. How the Suriel never scared you but a couple of hairy, smaller creatures do is beyond you. He places the plate on the small table beside you.

"Yes, it's for you. A peace offering. For snapping at you."

"That was two weeks ago.”

"Bet you didn't see it coming," he teases, and you find yourself blinking in surprise. The Shadowsinger cracking a joke? It's a sight to behold. At least for you.

Your eyes narrow. "Did Feyre send you?"

"No," Azriel replies simply, his tone carrying a sincerity that sets a flicker of hope alight in you. He then sighs. "I just realized I haven't been the most welcoming, that's all."

You smile in response and shift in your seat as you turn your body towards the food. The movement has the book in your lap falling. His hand reaches the book before yours could and the brush of your skin against his sends a delightful shudder through your body.

His eyes curiously look over the title and when he hands it back to you, you take note of the way he avoids looking at his scarred fingers. So you reach forward and brush your fingers against his again, letting them linger for a beat longer than before. Surprise flickers in his hazel eyes as he meets your gaze, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.

“That book is one of my favorites," he says, his shadows dancing across his shoulders and peeking curiously at you. "I'm surprised you're into the mystery genre."

"Why?"

“Well, you’re hard to read sometimes. Like a mystery that refuses to be solved.”

An arched brow is your response, but the gleam in your eyes gives away more than you'd like. “Maybe I don’t want to be unraveled.”

Azriel's lips twitch upwards once more. “Maybe it just takes the right person.”

Bathed in the glow of sunlight, you and Elain sit across from one another on the soft bed of green grass. Meanwhile, Azriel leans against a tree, a couple of feet away. His gaze is intense as he watches you two. Too focused on not letting it faze you, you fail to catch the way it softens when he turns to you.

Azriel can’t help but frown when he catches you avoiding his gaze. He wonders if you still harbor some resentment toward the way he had snapped at you awhile back, even though he already apologized for it.

"Close your eyes and focus on your breath," he hears you instruct softly. "Feel the rhythm of the earth beneath you. Attune yourself to the heartbeat of the world around you. What do you hear?”

Elain closes her eyes in deep concentration. “I can hear the wind and the tremble of the grass beneath it. I can hear the wind carry all the way to the sea.”

“Good,” you say and though her eyes remain closed, you smile gently at her. A gesture that sends a rush of warmth through him.

“Now feel the whispers of the unseen.”

“I can’t.” Elain’s eyebrows furrow.

“Here, take my hands,” you say as you reach for hers. “Imagine a pool of water within you, calm and reflective. Use me as a vessel to carry you through it. I’ll guide you to where your visions will manifest.”

Elain does as told. The world stills around you two. You close your eyes. As Elain’s eyebrows relax, your own face contorts in concentration. Azriel feels himself tense when he realizes it’s not concentration etching onto your face–it’s pain. In a heartbeat, he’s kneeling before you and prying your hands apart.

“Stop!”

Your eyes snap open at the sudden disconnection, and Azriel is unsettled by the way you shrink back from him, panic widening your eyes.

“I’m not hurting her!”

But it’s not Elain he’s worried about. He hasn’t even spared her a glance. It’s you–you’re the one that’s hurt. Blood trickles down your nose and he’s urging you to lean forward, gently guiding you with his hands as Elain rushes for a towel.

“Are you okay?”

There’s a dull ache in your head but also one in your heart and you’re too disoriented to stop yourself from saying, “If you stop staring at me like that, I will be.”

Azriel releases a soft chuckle, his muscles relaxing in relief at the playful edge in your tone. Yet, his shadows, wanting to confirm you're okay themselves, flutter toward you in a delicate cloud of darkness.

"Like what?”

“Don’t make me answer that.”

And you’ve never felt more relief at the sight of Elain coming in between you with a towel in hand.

A sudden sound has you stirring from your sleep. Your hand instinctively slides under your pillow, fingers grasping for the dagger you always keep with you when sleeping. The sound comes again and your initially alarmed body relaxes as you recognize it as the sound of someone knocking. Wrapping a robe around your night shift, you head toward the door, expecting Elain on the other side.

Upon opening your door, you’re surprised to find Azriel standing on the other side.

“You’re not going to Starfall?”

“Good morning to you too.”

Azriel’s eyes rake over your form, taking in your disheveled state. His lips curl into a faint smile. "It's noon," he observes in an amused manner.

Your eyes widen in disbelief, and you pivot your head toward the clock that hangs on the wall of your room. There, confirming his statement, the hands point a half hour past twelve. You overslept. You didn’t have any plans today and it seems your exhausted body took advantage of it.

“Is everything okay?”

His voice, laced with genuine concern, draws your attention back to him. The soft furrow of his brow and the warmth in his eyes catch you off guard. You hesitate. You don’t want to lie but you also don’t want to burden him with the truth.

So you settle for a, “Why?”

"I've noticed you haven't been sleeping much," he remarks, and before you can interrupt, he gestures toward his room, the one adjacent to yours. A silent acknowledgment that he's been more attentive than you realized. It pulls at the strings of your heart. "Or attending family dinners, and now Feyre tells me you're not going to Starfall?"

The weight of his observations presses on you. You didn’t think anyone had noticed. "Why do you care?" you retort, your words sharper than intended, and a wince follows.

"Isolation is not a good coping method," he responds, his tone steady and unfazed by your sharpness. "Trust me, I know."

"I don't have a dress." The words escape your lips, but even as you say them, you recognize the feebleness of the excuse.

“I’ll buy you one.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, and you feel a telltale blush spreading as the thought of Azriel buying you a dress takes root. He’s just being nice, you tell yourself. His gaze remains fixed on you, hazel eyes bright and gleaming with curiosity, as if daring you to come up with another excuse.

“Starfall is tomorrow.”

Azriel grins at you. It sends a flutter through your heart and you wonder if he can hear the erratic beat of it.

“Better make haste and get dressed then. We’ve got a couple of hours before the shops close.”

You deliberately take extra time getting ready, a mix of anticipation and apprehension swirling within you as you prepare to spend time with Azriel. Half-expecting a hint of annoyance, you finally open the door to your room, only to find Azriel with a welcoming smile that has the bond in your chest humming. Still, you're met with silence at the other side.

You take a deep breath as he gestures for you to follow him. As you step outside, he offers his arm and winnows you, not wanting to waste anymore time. You both find yourselves in the bustling shopping plaza of Velaris, where the fragrance of blooming flowers and the animated chatter of people embrace you.

Elaborate Starfall-themed displays adorn the shops, enticing you inside. Suddenly, the sheer array overwhelms you, and an urge to step back washes over you. Azriel place a hand on your back, stopping you and guiding you towards one of the shops.

“Welcome!” A voice happily chirps. “How can I help you?”

A stunning female enters your line of sight, her gaze immediately fixating on the male standing behind you. Her lips curve into a captivating smile, causing a twinge of jealousy to flicker within you. It’s short lived as Azriel clears his throat, gently nudging you forward.

“We’re looking for a dress for her.” Azriel speaks for you.

“Splendid! What’s the special occasion?”

“Starfall.” Azriel answers.

The female’s eyes widen, her smile morphing into a strained one. “I’m afraid I’ve sold all my best work already.”

“Oh, that’s alright. Sorry for the trouble,” you quickly reply, attempting to conceal the relief in your voice. Turning to leave, Azriel's hands land on your shoulders, directing you back to face the female.

“I’m sure we can find something in here,” Azriel reassures with a polite smile, scanning the aisles of dresses. “Y/n isn't picky. Right?”

“I can be,” you mumble under your breath.

Azriel lets out a sound, what you discern as a muffled chuckle. He gives your shoulder a squeeze and then leans down toward your ear. “If I were you, I’d take advantage of the situation.”

You turn your head slightly and regret it immediately. It takes all your strength to hold back the shudder your body wants to give at his proximity. He’s so close you can feel his breath fanning against your neck and you wonder what it would feel like to have his lips pressed against that sensitive skin.

It surprises you how quickly you find your voice.

“I’m going to pick the most expensive one.”

“Go ahead,” Azriel says and you can hear the smirk in his voice without having to look at him. He doesn’t allow you to get another word in, urging you forward again to where the female patiently awaits for you.

She lightly grasps your arm, leading you toward a rack of dresses in various styles and colors while Azriel makes himself comfortable on the couch by the fitting room. “You are a lucky lady,” she muses, her hands gracefully exploring the textures of her creations. “I’ve had this shop for centuries and you’re the first lady the Shadowsinger has brought to me.”

A blush warms your cheeks as you divert your attention to the array of beautiful dresses. Each one is a work of art, making you question her earlier claim about not having her best work available. If these weren't her finest creations, the thought of what her best work looked like leaves you intrigued.

The female, who’s name you learn is Willow, has you try on a couple of dresses that differ in styles. You’re reluctant to show Azriel each one but given he’s paying for it and the only other one in this shop, you feel like he should have some say.

“Do you like it?” Willow beams at you, admiring her work.

On the fifth dress, your hands run over the tulle of the vibrant yellow skirt. The fabric feels itchy against your skin, and the color is too bold for your taste. You swear you are not trying to be picky, despite what you told Azriel earlier.

“I li–”

“Let’s try another?” Azriel cuts in as if sensing the lie that was about to unfold. He rises from his seat toward one of the racks and pulls out a dress that caught his eye earlier. “How about this one?”

He holds the dress out to you, smiling softly when you take it from him. It’s much simpler compared to the other dress you’ve tried on but still just as elegant. It’s also soft against your skin. Willow guides you back into the fitting room, deftly assisting you out of the vivid yellow dress and into the cobalt blue silk one.

“I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. Cobalt blue is more your color!" Willow says as she gushes over you.

Her choice of words leaves you momentarily stunned. Cobalt blue is more your color. The exact words the Suriel had spoken to you. Also, the exact same shade as Azriel's siphons. The Suriel must’ve enjoyed himself a lot when he said those words to you. That sneaky little creature... You can hear his laugh echoing through your mind.

As you finally emerge from the dressing room, Azriel can’t help but stare. The fabric drapes gracefully around you, accentuating curves he hadn't noticed before. Sensing his prolonged gaze, your eyes meet his. It was him quickly averting his gaze, a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. He clears his throat, attempting to regain his composure.

"This is the one. It looks…good on you," he manages to say, his voice slightly strained.

“It’s 500 gold marks.”

He picks up on the teasing in your tone and the way Willow shakes her head in reassurance at him. Still, he humors you and says, “I don’t care.”

He’d pay more than 500 gold marks just to make you happy.

Azriel battled with restless thoughts that night, unable to find solace in sleep. Each time he closed his eyes, the vivid image of you in that dress invaded his mind. He couldn’t wait to see you in that dress again. Maybe then, he’d have the courage to compliment you better.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the first guests arrived for the Starfall celebration, Azriel's eyes eagerly scanned the gathering crowd, seeking a glimpse of you. Just as a twinge of disappointment crept in, his shadows stirred, signaling your proximity. His wings twitched with anticipation, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. You are absolutely stunning. Breathtaking.

In an instant heartbeat, he’s pushing Cassian, who was ready to fly you up to the House of Wind, aside. With a warning look, Cassian steps away with a chuckle.

"You're here," he whispers, a blend of disbelief and relief saturating his breath.

“Well a very nice male spent a lot of money for me to be here.”

“Well I’m glad.” Azriel chuckles, eyes drinking you in again. Savoring you. “You’re beautiful.”

“So are you.”

Azriel flushes at the unexpected compliment and his shadows to come to life around him. He smiles at you. “Shall we?”

He waits for your nod before carefully hooking an arm beneath your knees, eyes never leaving yours. A thrill courses through him as he revels in the sensation of your arms around his neck, taking delight in the way you feel in his arms. His wings unfurl behind him, preparing for the short flight up. The sound has your eyes fluttering shut, arms tightening around him and face burying into his neck. He finds it absolutely endearing. He never wants to let you go.

Against his wishes, the flight up to the balcony was short. He sets you down, helping you regain your footing, a lingering touch before reluctantly releasing you. There’s still more guests he, unfortunately, has to fly up. It’s as if you sense his internal conflict because you’re turning around to face him, eyes bright and alight.

“Yes, Azriel. I’ll save you a dance.”

The way his name rolls off your tongue sends a thrill up his spine. He opens his mouth to say something but once again, you beat him to it.

"Thought I'd save you the question," you stated, an all-knowing grin gracing your features as you tapped the corner of one of your eyes. Ah, so you had a vision of him. He wonders about the other glimpses you might have seen.

He doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it as Elain is rushing toward you, showering you with compliments. He takes that as his cue to depart. He is determined to finish his tasks in bringing the remaining guests up as fast as he can so that he can return to you and that dance you promised.

Azriel finds himself stealing glances whenever he thinks you won’t notice. The sparkle in your eyes, the way the dress accentuates your features–he can't look away. Caught up in the melody of your laughter, provoked by something Elain said, Azriel and his shadows are too mesmerized in the beauty of you to notice Feyre approaching until she speaks.

"She’s beautiful," Feyre remarks, her eyes following the same path as Azriel's gaze.

A soft affirmation escapes Azriel's lips. "Yes."

Feyre, well aware of the answer, delves further. "You bought her that dress?"

“Yes.”

A mischievous gleam flickers in Feyre's eyes as she delivers her next statement. "You like her."

Azriel's response slips out before he can even grasp the depth of his own admission. "Yes."

He turns to Feyre, his wide eyes betraying the shock of his own revelation. A slight pallor washes over his skin, and Feyre chuckles at his reaction. Sensing the tension in the air, she rests a reassuring arm on his shoulder. “I like her too,” she confesses.

Though, both of them recognize that Azriel's feelings for you run deeper and in more intricate ways than Feyre's own fondness.

“I offered her a place in this court. She said she’d think about it. Maybe you can convince her? The same way you convinced her to come to Starfall,” Feyre says and then with one last pat on his shoulder, she makes her way back toward Rhysand.

Still recovering from the revelation of his own feelings, it takes a while longer for the weight of Feyre’s words to sink in. A mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and a flicker of hope plays out across his features. You weren’t planning on staying? The thought of you leaving–leaving him stirs a feeling in his chest. His eyes seek you out again but you’re no longer standing beside Elain.

In your place, stands Lucien and normally the sight would trigger dark emotions from him. But now? He feels nothing. There’s no sense of envy. His affections have shifted elsewhere.

Azriel’s shadows fall to the floor, slithering against the cool tile like serpents of the night. They lead the way directly to where you stand, by the champagne table. He makes his way toward you and you're downing the rest of the liquid in your glass.

“Azriel.” You smile at him.

“It’s time for you to fulfill the promise you made me.”

“Of course,” you reply, offering him your hand.

Azriel gracefully pulls you into his embrace. One hand wraps around yours while the other rests on your waist. The enchanting melody guides your movements as the two of you glide across the floor.

“Feyre told me she offered you a role in this court.”

Your eyes, wise and mysterious, meet his, and he feels your body tense under his hold. “What else did she tell you?”

“That you’d think about it,” he says, the rhythm of the dance allowing for a moment of ease to settle between you. “You should stay.”

“Why?”

A wistful expression colors your features and the soft glow of stars are reflected in your eyes. The music comes to a gradual end and you free yourself of his hold before the next song begins.

“There’s no one here for me.” You admit and then give a small laugh as you look down. There's a deep, haunting sadness to your laughter, striking a chord within him.

“I’m right here.”

Lifting your head back up, your eyes search his for something with a glimmer of hope. An eternity seems to pass in your gaze. A frown settles over your lips and he feels a tinge of sadness. Whatever you sought, it seems you did not find it.

Suppressing the surge of emotions within him, his hand reaches for yours again. He guides you to somewhere more private, toward one of the balconies that is off limits to the guests. “Talk to me,” he says, his words carrying an invitation for you to unburden your heart.

Your hands grip onto the railing before you and attention is directed up towards the night sky. He mirrors your actions, resting his hands close to yours. So close he can feel your warmth but not close enough to touch.

"It feels weird being here," you sigh deeply. "My mother and I used to sneak out of Hewn City on Starfall just to catch a glimpse of these migrating spirits every year...until she realized what I was. She said I was a curse, said she would turn me into Keir and let him have his way with me if I didn't leave."

Azriel's fingers clench into a white knuckled grip at your words.

"Not that leaving a horrible city such as Hewn was exactly a punishment. It was probably for the best. Still didn't stop me from being scared. It was the first time in my life that I was actually alone. I learned how to survive."

"I met the Suriel a year later. He must've taken pity on me and would visit me without being summoned. Sometimes, it'd be to tease me with some gossip. Other times, to annoy and chide me for my mistakes. Most importantly, he taught me how to not only survive on my own but live alone. I don't know, it's probably silly but I just felt a lot less lonely when I was actually alone than I do here."

“It’s not silly. I used to feel that way too.” Azriel admits and after a moment of silence, he’s turning toward you. “Am I not your friend?”

“I don’t know,” you find yourself saying again, uncertainty clouding your expression. Pausing, you tear your gaze from the night sky to look at him. “Do you want to be?”

“Yes,” Azriel smiles at you. And so much more.

You smile back at him but it doesn’t last long. Turning your head to face directly ahead, you bite the inside of your cheek in hesitation, revealing to Azriel that there’s more troubling you than your sense of loneliness.

“What else?”

“There’s nothing else.”

“y/n.”

“I feel like a failure.”

Azriel's eyes widen, his heart sinking to his stomach. “You’re not,” he reassures quickly.

“I–I just,” you stammer, the weight of self-doubt evident in your voice. “It’s nearing four months since I’ve arrived, and I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface with Elain.”

“How long did it take you to harness your abilities?”

“Decades,” you respond, the admission carrying a hint of sheepishness. “But Elain is different. This is different. I don’t want to disappoint her. Disappoint Feyre. The world we know is crumbling apart, and we don’t have time. If–if we cannot fix it before it’s too late, I will have failed him.”

“Hey, look at me.”

When you don’t, Azriel lightly grips your chin, coaxing your gaze to him. “You’re here, aren’t you? You’re honoring his wish by just being here. Keep trying,” he encourages, wiping away your tears. “I’ll be here with you every step of the way. You’re not alone. We’ll face this together.”

“Together?”

He releases his hold on you, resting his hand once more on the rail. This time, it’s even closer to yours.

“Together,” he confirms, heart swarming with warmth when your hand bridges the gap between you and brushes against his.

And finally, it seems your lonely days are through.

Azriel’s been in love before. Twice. Or at least, he thought it was love. One was unrequited, a silent ache he carried within. The other was forbidden, a love he had clung to with misguided hope. He was beginning to come to the begrudging conclusion that love was simply not meant for him.

Then, you came along. Strange as it seems, you've seemed to have brought back that old feeling to him, awakening something deep inside of him. And though he doesn't know what you did, he thinks--he hopes that you could be the one. The one to possibly release him from the chains of solitude and longing.

You've rarely left his mind since the night he met you. The echoes of your first words to him lingered in his mind long after your encounter, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your voice was cloaked in both mystery and certainty, as though you held the threads of destiny within your grasp. It prompted him to ask who you were but your answer, “that’s for you to decide” only gave rise to more questions.

Then, there was that smile. So beautiful, so hopeful. It etched itself into the recesses of his memory. It was a smile no one had ever bestowed upon him before and one he longed to see it again.

And he almost ruined it all–that day he snapped at you after a session gone wrong with Elain. Your intentions were always pure. He knew this. No one was at fault as everything that transpired between you and Elain was completely consensual. But the scream that tore through Elain sent him in a heightened frenzy. He had sworn to Rhysand and Feyre, his High Lord and High Lady, that he would protect Elain. Before he could properly assess the situation, he had roughly pushed you aside with a growl. The hurt that flashed in your eyes in response haunted him nearly every night.

You began to actively avoid his gaze and presence whenever possible, and guilt gnawed at him relentlessly. Even his shadows, missing your attention, seemed angry with him. Truth be told, he was angry with himself too. You had made friends with everyone. Everyone but him.

The following two weeks became a series of futile attempts at groveling, your obliviousness to it all cutting deeper than he cared to admit. The breaking point came when you missed dinner, and he knew it was time to set things right then. So he sent his shadows to look for you and when they reported back to him that you were sleeping in the library, he brought your dinner to you.

After that moment, the atmosphere between you two shifted. He became the chaser, gradually closing the distance between you.

You looked his way more, approached him with a newfound openness, and your conversations became more frequent. You teased him at times, even, with your cryptic words. But rather than frustrating him, it only made him seek you out more. He wanted to be the one to unravel the mystery that was you.

Somewhere down the line, his eyes stopped searching for Elain's. The private moments he sought with her became mere echoes of the past—no more lingering touches, exchanged glances, or pointless conversations. Instead, it was you who occupied the center of his attention, infiltrating his dreams and igniting desires he never knew he harbored.

You eased him like no other, effortlessly coaxing smiles and laughter from him. It was in these moments that the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning—he had never truly been in love during the first two instances. What he felt for you was different. He was unwilling to let his feelings linger in the shadows, as they had done before. He yearned for them to step into the light. To be acknowledged and acted upon openly.

He decided to wait until after Solstice to confess to you and hoped that your visions wouldn't give him away.

Laughter and clinks of wine glasses ring through the air. Azriel knows it’s time to open presents, his shadows singing loudly and overwhelming him with information. Cassian is sneaking a peak. Rhysand is rolling his eyes. Elain got Lucien a present. y/n is holding back tears.

Azriel tenses at the last bit of information, eyes immediately finding you. You’re seated beside Feyre–the two of you exchanging smiles. There’s an unwrapped present on your lap and his shadows dart toward it. It’s a small portrait of the Suriel. He hears you thank Feyre and he swears he can feel your ache of grief. He moves to stand from his seat but Elain stops him.

“Happy Solstice,” she says, holding out a small present. He takes the box albeit reluctantly but politely and opens it to find two tickets to an upcoming play.

Elain smiles at the frown he’s trying to hide.

"Elain, I can't--"

“Y/n mentioned always wanting to go see a play. I thought maybe you could be the one to take her. After you confess."

His eyes search hers for any traces of hurt. He’s relieved when he finds none but the frown in his brow remains. “How–”

“She trained me well," Elain replies, eyes shining with an all knowing gleam he's seen in yours. "She deserves to be happy. You both do and something tells me that she’s the one you’ve been waiting for.”

Gods, you and Elain have been hanging out so much with one another that now she’s beginning to talk like you. There's a tightening in his chest, like a band about to snap at her words.

Azriel looks back at Elain in question but she only smiles at him once more before retreating back to where she was sitting previously. Next to Lucien, who also sends a smile his way.

Looking down at the tickets, he thinks of you again. His shadows stir, mirroring the strange sensation in his chest. It’s almost like a pull and his shadows guide him toward it, turning his head for him. Just in time to catch a glimpse of you quietly slipping away from the festivities. His steps quicken as he follows you, pulling his coat along with him.

The soft flakes of snow flutter down, a delicate dance in the winter night. Despite weeks of continuous snowfall, the enchanting beauty of it never fails to captivate you. It differs markedly from the unforgiving snowstorms you endured while wandering the Night Court's forests. Though just as cold, it prompts an involuntary shiver, a reaction to the biting chill in the air.

As the door behind you creaks open, a rush of warmth accompanies its movement. The scent of cedar invades your senses, growing more intense as you feel a fabric drape over your shoulders, bringing forth an intimate warmth.

"Hey," Azriel breathes, a visible puff of white escaping his lips.

"Hi," you smile back at him, your fingers instinctively reaching for the coat that draped over your shoulders. You can't help but notice the thin sweater he wears. "Won't you be cold, though?"

Azriel stops you, securing his coat back onto your smaller frame with a reassuring smile. “I grew up in a camp where it snowed a lot more than this. I’ll be fine.”

You look back up at the night sky. The stars are shining so bright. It makes you wonder if they ever tire. They seem to answer you as their radiant beams cast a celestial glow upon you. Your vision blurs in surrender.

“What are you seeing?” Azriel inquires, curious. He hopes it's not the confession he's aching to spill.

Your eyebrows knit together, and you close your eyes, immersing yourself in deciphering the messages woven between the stars. Upon opening your eyes, you turn to Azriel, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.

“You're going to get frostbite."

Azriel lets out an amused huff. "I don't care. As long as you're warm."

"We should head back inside," you suggest.

"No," Azriel insists, enfolding a wing around your form, anchoring you in place. His shadows can sense you don't want to go back inside yet. "I like being alone with you."

The wind nips at your cheeks, a sensation you welcome as it gives the perfect excuse for the blush creeping across your face. Tearing your gaze away from Azriel before he can discern his effect on you, you quietly share, "Nyx is going to say his first word in three days."

Azriel leans forward and you can feel his anticipation. A familial bet circulates among his uncles and aunts (save for Elain) regarding what the young heir’s first word will be. “What is it?”

“Cas.”

Azriel can't resist glancing back toward the house, his eyes narrowing with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. There, he catches a fleeting glimpse of Cassian playfully hoisting Nyx in the air, the two engaged in a lively game of chase around the living room. When he turns his attention back to you, mischief twinkles in your eyes.

“You’re lying.”

“You fell for it."

And that smile he’s been longing for since he met you graces your lips as you laugh. A sweet and beautiful sound that warms the winter air. Azriel's gaze dips toward your lips, captivated by the sound, before lifting back to meet your eyes. He leans in even closer.

“I fell for you.”

You also lean in, eyes never leaving his. "The answer is yes."

"What?"

Azriel nearly stumbles back, caught off guard, but you remain close, lifting a hand and cradling his cheek. It's surprisingly warm and he instinctively leans into your touch. His eyes widen. Did you—

“To you taking me on a date,” you reveal, your smile deepening, and he swears his shadows snicker in response. “The vision I just saw. It was of me and you at a theater. Next Friday at seven.”

“Next Friday at seven,” Azriel confirms, a tender affection lighting up his expression.

The air seems to shimmer with the promise of an enchanting future. You reach out, tugging at the bond in your chest. Once again, there is only silence. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. Not when Azriel is gazing at you as though you are the very stars illuminating the night sky.

And then you're kissing him.

The snow crunches underfoot as Azriel moves, his usually keen senses dulled. His mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you. Even as the icy missiles fly past him, Azriel remains lost in the memories of shared glances and smiles and the way your lips felt so perfect against his last night.

For the first time in years, Azriel finds himself on the losing side of the annual snowball fight. Oddly, no disappointment lingers, even after meticulous planning for this anticipated victory. All he wants is to return home—to you.

Amidst the snowy chaos, revelation strikes him simultaneously with a snowball from Rhysand. The snap, the bond—everything falls into place. It all makes sense now. Your words when you first met. Elain’s words last night at Solstice. Why your presence thrilled and delighted him. Why he couldn't shake the feeling of love and adoration for you.

You are his mate.

The one he had been longing and pleading for, and the realization left him breathless. He shakes the snow from his face and Rhysand blinks back at him in surprise. The High Lord had been expecting a glare but he only finds pure shock on Azriel’s face.

“Oh come on, I didn’t hit you that hard,” he teases.

“I have to go.”

“If you leave, you’re forfeiting,” warns Cassian, but the glint in his eye betrays a desire for Azriel to leave, eager for a victory.

“I yield,” Azriel says mindlessly, surprising even Rhysand. Feeling his friend's talons probing his mind, Azriel throws up his shields and disappears into his shadows, abandoning the snow-covered battlefield. He'll explain later.

For now, he has to find you.

His shadows winnow him back to the River house and he doesn’t have to look for long because there you are, making your way down the last step and standing in his path. There’s not much that surprises you but that has changed since meeting Azriel and this moment is no different. Your eyes are widening, mouth parting.

“Azriel," you say. "What are you doing here? I thought you were–”

“It’s you,” Azriel interrupts breathlessly as if he was running, chest rising and falling quickly in step with the erratic beating of his heart. He’s bridging the distance between you. “All this time. It’s been you.”

You swallow thickly. “You know?”

The glimmer of hope that had ignited during Starfall returns to your eyes, revealing a world he hadn’t realized existed. How could he have been so blind?

Azriel smiles at you and it’s as if that’s the last piece to the puzzle as the bond between you both comes to life, singing loudly against your chests. He pulls you flush against him and spins you around, eliciting a delightful squeal from you. Cradling your face in his hands, he kisses your forehead, then the corners of your eyes. He saves your lips for last, lingering in the sweet taste of them for a moment longer.

“You’re my mate,” he says quietly, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yes,” you manage to whisper back, surrendering yourself to the depths of his mesmerizing hazel eyes, just like in the vision from months ago. And it’s not you who speaks again but Azriel.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

a/n: hope you all enjoyed this (: It took me longer to write than I thought because i'm used to writing more angst for Az than fluff but I wanted this to be different. It's canon that Elain found out that reader and Az were mates through a vision around the same time she decided to give Lucien a chance. I just want them all to be happy ♡ in terms of my ABBA x ACOTAR series, I think I'll work on another one for Cas next inspired by Honey, Honey. If you'd like to be tagged, just let me know!

tagging: @hellodarling1357

if you want to read more about Az x Seer reader, I wrote a couple of bonus scenes that didn't quite make the final cut. You can read them here.

#azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #acotar imagine #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel acotar #azriel fluff #azriel angst #azriel fanfic #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #abba x acotar

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harryslittlefreakk · 10 months ago

Text

my policeman

Summary: Harry is the police officer assigned to your case, though you are inexplicably drawn to one another 🤭 this will be the first instalment of a new series (if you guys like it lol)

Warnings: age gap romance, Harry is approx mid 40s and MC is early-mid 20s 🥰 smut!!

A/n: I hope you enjoy!! I really like this idea & the storyline so far for these two

You can join my taglist here! And my masterlist is here!! Happy reading 🫶🏼

“I need to speak to someone please, I’ve been mugged.”

You were panting, having run the ten minute journey to the police station from the bus stop. Someone had snatched the bulky work bag from your shoulder as you walked, then fled down a side street before you’d even had time to comprehend what had happened. Your natural instincts were to just run, and that’s exactly what you did. You ran until you stumbled through the police station doors, your heart still pounding with adrenaline.

“Styles!” the man behind the desk called out, an outstretched arm directing you to a closed door. You shuffled over, legs jelly after your spontaneous sprint. You weren’t sure whether to go through the doors or wait there, and the officer behind the desk had his back to you. But as you shifted awkwardly, the doors swung open, revealing possibly the hottest police officer you’d ever seen. He was old, older than you’d usually be interested in, but there was something about him. He was stocky and toned, grey streaks peppered through his deep brown curls. He smiled at you and extended his hand. "Officer Styles, but you can call me Harry.” Officer Harry Styles, the world’s sexiest police officer. You followed him down the corridor, into a tiny room with only a desk, a chair and a small sofa. It was cold and clinical, four grey walls lit by the same sort of lights you’d find in hospitals. It made you uneasy, but Harry’s eyes were laced with warmth as he looked over at you. "First of all, are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle.

You whispered a quiet “yes”, your response barely audible, but Harry caught it. You felt vulnerable now, having been too close to danger and not realising it at the time. You’d lived in London for years, heard so many tales of rape and mugging but never experienced it yourself, or had it happen to someone close to you. You were lucky to only have your work bag taken and be left otherwise untouched, but you couldn’t help feeling shaken by the encounter. “I was mugged,” you told Harry.

“Did they hurt you?”

“No. Just took my bag.”

“M’sorry that happened to you,” he said. There was a slight northern twang to his voice, the kind that suggested he’d been in London long enough to start losing it, but been in the North long enough for the accent to be stubborn. “Did you get a look at them?” he asked, tapping his pen against the sheet of paper in front of him.

“No, they were already running before I turned around.”

“Where did it happen?”

“The bus stop near Florence Gardens, going towards the station.”

“What did they take? Any valuables?”

“My work laptop. And my lunchbox,” you told him, corners of your mouth turning up slightly at the thought of the thief finding your leftover pasta. “They were in my rucksack, I had my phone and keys in my pocket.”

“What does the bag look like?”

“Black, it’s leather. I can show you?”

You pulled up a picture on your phone and handed it to Harry, watching as he wrote down the details.

“Alright, give me 10 minutes to file this, okay? You’ll be okay waiting here?” He handed the phone back to you and stood up as you nodded, then strode toward the door, the glinting badge on his chest catching the light. You’d never had to deal with the police before, and always been a little bit scared of authority figures. But Harry was warm, he made you feel safe despite the circumstances that had brought you to the police station.

It wasn’t long before Harry was back, a thick puffer jacket now covering his torso and a huge tote bag slung over his shoulder. He reached out and gently placed a comforting hand on the back of your seat. “Come on, my shifts over so I’ll walk you home.” You smiled as you followed him out of the room, grateful beyond words for his company.

“Do you not have worse crimes to solve than my stolen lunchbox?” you asked him as you walked, somehow comfortable in his presence. “Not anymore,” he told you. “Been in the police for 25 years now. Did a lot of that but wanted to settle down the last few years, s’better for me like this.”

“Guess it’s nicer for your wife that you’re not out chasing murderers,” you quipped, earning a chuckle from Harry. "Yeah, m’sure she’d appreciate it if she hadn’t divorced me already," he said with a small smile. “I’m sorry,” you told him, glancing over to try to read his face. Truthfully, you were excited by the idea of him being divorced. It didn’t mean he was single, and it definitely didn’t mean he’d be into you, but it was one less hurdle in your mind. "It's alright," he said. "Sometimes things jus’ don't work out, you know?”

“Mm, I know. My flat’s just down here,” you pointed the way to Harry. He walked you all the way to the doorstep, staring up at the building. “It’s not the best area,” he told you. "Be safe, okay? If you need anything, or remember anything, don't hesitate to call," Harry told you, a touch of protectiveness in his tone as he took out his phone. He sent a text to your number so you could save his, then watched as you opened the front door. “Thank you Harry, for everything,” you smiled. “I’m only a call away,” he said, rubbing a hand on your forearm.

Jesus Christ. You collapsed against your front door as you got inside, heart racing from just a gentle touch. You’d get mugged every day if it gave you the chance to be around Harry more. The thought of seeing him again made your head pound, the fear and violation you felt earlier in the evening long forgotten.

Maybe it was a reaction to the weirdness of your evening, maybe it was a way to work through all the emotions you were feeling, but you found yourself reaching for your vibrator as you stepped out of your work clothes. Harry was all you could think about, his hands trailing down your body, his fingers pinching at your nipple, his mouth pressing hot kisses across your abdomen. You could almost feel him hovering over you, so close and yet not close at all. He would be authoritative, demanding you press the vibrator to your clit, his fingers beginning to pump inside of you as you writhed on the bed.

You were moaning into the ghost of his mouth, his nose brushing against yours as your core tightened, a rush of emotions filling you to the brim. It was too much, your toy working at your clit with the idea of Harry’s ringed fingers pounding at your pussy, your free hand gripping onto his loose curls. You were coming faster than you ever had, hips bucking as you screamed out his name.

It was borderline insane. Coming so fast and so heavily for a man you barely knew, crying out his name as if he were here, riding you through your high. You felt almost dirty as you chucked your vibrator to the side, too mentally preoccupied to even shower or eat before climbing into bed. You just wanted to dream of Harry, try to work through your delusions before you had to see him again.

—

Your thoughts of Harry came and went over the next few days. Your manager had suggested you work from home for a few days, your only route home from the office marred by your mugging. The four walls of your apartment felt too small, too closed in even before you had an imaginary Harry following you around. You’d tried to push him out of your mind, desperate to avoid a crush on a man you hardly knew. You did this all the time, it was a symptom of being chronically single. As soon as a man showed kindness towards you, you fell in love. Harbouring a crush on the police officer working on your case was bad news, and yet as you thought about him, his name flashed up on your phone.

“Hey, y/n. How are you?”

“I’m okay, you?”

“Better for hearing your voice.” You could almost hear the smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Listen, do you have time to swing by? Wanted to update you on a few things.”

“I can come now?” you offered. Working from home was slow, and you’d already completed your tasks for the day. So how could you wait any longer to see Harry again?

You looked over yourself in the mirror as you put the phone down, tightening your ponytail and smoothing a hand down the front of your top.

Harry was waiting in the reception area when you arrived at the police station, a big beaming grin sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks when he saw you. Truthfully, he could have spoken to you over the phone, but he wanted an excuse to see you again. It was silly, childlike even, the way he’d racked his brain for reasons to call or message since he’d dropped you off at home a few days ago. He felt ridiculous, far too giddy over a girl far too young for him, but he couldn’t get you off his mind.

“We think we’ve located your bag,” Harry told you as he ushered you into the same room as before. “Really?” you squeaked. “It’s not 100% yet, but we have had a few more reports of thefts in the area. We’ve tracked down an address, and we’ll be going in this week.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you grinned, throwing your arms around him before your brain could stop you. Harry chuckled, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, before freezing. You’d both suddenly remembered where you were, who you were, and yet neither of you wanted to step away.

Harry gently squeezed you before saying, "It's all part of the job,” a small smile on his lips. There was something unspoken in the air as you stepped back, your gaze meeting his. “Sorry,” you muttered. His eyes were soft as he looked at you, reaching out to gently tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

“You don’t have to apologise,” Harry told you, his lingering touch burning against your skin. You stared at each other wordlessly for a moment, tension heavy in the air, until a familiar call of Harry’s name broke the spell. You stepped further away from him, glancing down at the floor as the professional mask settled back into place on Harry’s face. “Thank you, Harry. I’ll see you later,” you smiled, turning your back on him.

—

You needed to distract yourself, arranging a last minute girls night to take your mind off of Harry. And yet, it was as if the universe was playing a cruel joke on you. The man you were specifically going out to forget was standing on the doorstep of your apartment building, hand poised to buzz your intercom as you opened the door. “Harry-” you started, unable to find any other, better words.

“Come to dinner with me,” he said, gaze trailing up and down your body. You were wearing your ‘good’ jeans, the ones that sucked you in in all the right places yet showcased your curves in all the best ones. You had more makeup on than he’d seen you in before, though your freckles and beauty spots still peeked through. The oversized leather jacket slung over your shoulders obscured the top half of your body, but Harry didn’t need to see any more to know just how good you looked. “Please,” he added, holding up a single red rose.

“Dinner with you,” you repeated, a little stunned by his offer. “Dinner.. with me. Should we say it once more for good luck?” Harry laughed. “Maybe once more,” you smiled, pulling your phone from your back pocket. need to cancel, something came up x you sent quickly to your best friends. “Where are we going?” you asked Harry, eyes locking back onto him as he walked back down the path. “In first, questions later,” he told you, unlocking his car and opening the passenger side door for you.

“You’re acting very murdery for a man of the law,” you laughed, sliding onto the seat. “It was a test, and you failed. Should never get in a strange man’s car,” he joked.

The drive was mostly silent, except for the rhythm of Harry’s fingers tapping against the steering wheel. You were suddenly nervous, mouth dry and heart pounding as you watched the city become a blur. The sun was starting to set overhead as you drove further from home, street lamps and homes beginning to light up around you. Harry glanced over at you, brows furrowed as he tried to read the emotion etched onto your face. “You okay?” he asked, resting a strong hand on your knee.

“Shy,” you smiled weakly. It had only just hit you that you didn’t know Harry at all, couldn’t even think of anything to say to cut through the silence. You wanted the evening to go well, wanted to explore the connection you felt with him. But if you stammered and stuttered all night long, you’d have to go into hiding before a future with Harry even became a possibility.

You watched him as he drove, brows knitted in concentration as he navigated the busy streets. You hadn’t even paid attention to what he was wearing before, and as your eyes wandered over his body, your jaw went slack.

Harry wore a loose white dress shirt that although slightly oversized, seemed to fit him perfectly. He’d left the top few buttons open, allowing glimpses of his toned physique. As he moved his hands around the steering wheel, the material of the shirt shifted, revealing intricate tattoos that adorned his arms and chest. You’d seen a couple on his arms, but the amount that littered the tanned skin of his torso made your heart race. With each tiny movement, his tattoos peeked through the fabric, muscles flexing underneath the inked skin. He was handsome in a way that was new to you, rugged and yet soft.

There was something about his age that drew you to him, his years on you more a challenge than anything. He clearly knew how to act and had no problems going after what he wanted, a world away from the men you knew who were all still stuck in their fratboy mindsets.

“We’re here,” Harry said, resting a gentle hand over yours to pull you from your daydream. He’d pulled up in front of a quaint pub. The bold blue exterior was littered with bright flowers in hanging baskets and window boxes. A crowd of merry customers had spilled out onto the pavement outside, the warm glow from the pub washing over them. “This is so cute,” you told Harry, following him through the open door. “Officer Styles!” a man called out from across the bar. Harry greeted him with a firm handshake, turning his ear to the man’s mouth to hear him over the music. It wasn’t long before he turned back to you, grabbing a hold of your hand to lead you up the stairs. “I did some work for the owner,” he told you, pulling open another door. “Don’t live far from here so I come often now. Good food and good views,” he smirked, stepping out of the way to reveal the scene set up for you.

The balcony was slim, only just wide enough to fit two small tables. One was set up for dining, a bottle of red perched among ice in the middle. The other was covered in candles, wax dripping around a beautiful bouquet in the centre. It was secluded and romantic, the dream setting for your first date with what could be your dream man.

You talked and laughed for what felt like forever, voice hoarse from giggling at Harry’s jokes. The sharing plates he’d ordered sat cold and forgotten in front of you both, almost empty glasses stained pink from the wine.

A hint of a smirk played on Harry's lips as his eyes trailed over yours. “Quickfire round, since I have a feeling you won’t let me kiss you until we know each other better. Family?”

“My brother’s younger, he’s in uni. Parents live by the coast,” you told him, heat rising through your core at the very idea of kissing him.

“My mum lives up north, got an older sister too. Hobbies?”

“I like painting. Don’t do it as much anymore but..” you let your voice trail off.

“But you’re going to paint me?” Harry grinned, turning his back to you and peering seductively over his shoulder. “Draw me like one of your French girls,” he drawled, a mocking glint in his eyes.

“Nuh uh. Got to answer or you’ll never get that kiss.”

“I don’t have hobbies. I like working out and like puzzles,” Harry shrugged.

“Typical old man hobby,” you laughed. Harry chuckled and shook his head. "Well, maybe I am an old soul trapped in a sexy young body," he replied with a playful grin. "Can't complain about that, right?"

You nodded, still amused by his choice of hobbies. "You’re right, I can’t.”

As your conversation continued, you and Harry discovered more and more about each other. Your dreams, fears, and your favourite childhood memories. You laughed and shared stories, the connection between you growing stronger with each passing moment.

“M’not ready to let you go yet,” Harry smiled, looking out over the river. It was almost totally dark now, the last rays of evening sunshine nearly vanished behind the horizon. You smiled back at Harry. “"I'm not ready to go either," you admitted, rolling your bottom lip into your mouth as you looked over him, taking in the beauty of the scene. He was the definition of a silver fox. You’d noticed heads turning as you left the pub, young (and older) women captivated by just a glance of Harry. Being the girl on his arm felt good, even if it was just for the evening.

“Let’s walk,” Harry told you, his fingers intertwining with yours. You strolled down the riverside hand in hand, chatting mindlessly. Harry shared stories of his childhood, his years working for a local bakery before he moved to London and joined the Met.

You felt so much comfort and warmth as you listened to Harry. His stories painted vivid pictures in your mind, a glimpse into his past giving you some understanding of the person he was. As the two of you continued walking, the sound of the flowing river created a soothing backdrop to your conversation. The setting sun was casting a golden glow over your surroundings, and you couldn't help but feel a growing connection with Harry. It was as if time stood still, and the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in that moment.

You found yourself opening up to Harry, sharing your own stories. He listened attentively, his eyes filled with genuine interest and understanding. It was refreshing to be with someone who truly cared about getting to know you on a deeper level.

As the evening progressed, the conversation shifted towards more lighthearted topics. Laughter filled the air as Harry recounted some of the funnier people he’d encountered during his career. His animated gestures and contagious laughter made it impossible for you not to join in. There was a boyish charm behind his manly facade, and the more time you spent with Harry, the more you realized how effortlessly he made you feel at ease. There was a natural chemistry between you, a connection that went beyond words. It was a feeling of familiarity, as if you had known each other for years.

As darkness began to envelop you, Harry gently squeezed your hand, bringing your attention back to the present moment. You both paused, eyes trailing over the other’s features under the moonlight. Harry tugged on your arm quickly, pulling you towards the wall. Your heart quickened as his gaze fell to your parted lips, his body gently pressing your back into the brick. The light cast a soft glow on his face, lust etched into every line on his face.

You felt as if you were floating somewhere outside your body as Harry leaned in, his warm breath mingling with yours. His lips brushed against your own, gentle yet filled with an insatiable longing.

You responded eagerly, your hands instinctively finding their way to his waist. The kiss deepened, becoming a dance of lust and unspoken desires. Harry's lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, his hands roaming your body. It had been a long time since a kiss had ignited a fire within your core, and yet you were burning brighter with every touch.

The taste of him was intoxicating, warm wine, sweetness and desire on his tongue leaving you breathless. He pressed you further into the wall, your bodies molding together perfectly as if they were made to be intertwined.

It had started to rain at some point, though you were too consumed by the raw passion that existed between you to notice the soft raindrops running down your skin. All you could focus on was Harry’s tongue licking into your mouth, a silent promise of the yearning and desire that he felt for you.

He pulled your bottom lip into his mouth before you both pulled away, breathless and panting. The world slowly came back into focus, but the sight of Harry before you nearly made your heart stop. The rain had soaked through his shirt, the thin material now translucent and dipping and weaving over his toned abdomen. His curls were slick against his forehead, raindrops lingering on the end of his eyelashes. His jaw was tense as he looked over your face, one hand gently grazing your waist. He was mesmerising, powerful and yet vulnerable as he stood soaked through in front of you.

You reached out with a gentle hand, pushing the wet curls from his face. But just as your swollen lips parted to speak, the heavens opened above you. It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of water over you and Harry, raindrops pelting you from every angle. You looked at each other in shock, a laugh tumbling past your lips.

Harry grabbed a hold of your hand and ran, the sound of your footsteps slapping against puddles breaking the silence of the now empty streets. You were barely able to hold yourself upright from laughter, falling into Harry’s body as your legs carried you closer to the car. His grip tightened on your wrist, guiding you through the dark paths.

As you reached the car, Harry fumbled with the keys, his hands shaking from the sudden cold. You stood beside him, shivers of adrenaline running through you. The rain smacked against the roof of the car as Harry unlocked it, pulling open the door for you. Even in the pouring rain, he was still a gentleman. You slid in quickly, the sudden warmth fogging up the windows.

You sat in silence for a moment, eyes trailing over each other as you caught your breath. A smile played on Harry’s lips as he looked at you, his hand coming up to brush your sodden hair from your face.

—

There was no way you could sleep. You’d been tossing and turning for at least an hour, the ache in your core too much to sleep on. All you could do was replay the evening in your mind, wondering exactly how you ended up alone in Harry’s bed.

“Here,” Harry handed you one of his T-shirts and some pyjama bottoms. “Shower’s through there, get yourself warmed up.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead as you headed into the bathroom, a tiny sigh of disappointment slipping past your lips. You were desperate for him to join you in the shower, craving more of his touch. A night of stolen glances and gentle touches had you burning up even before the kiss, but after seeing what Harry’s mouth was capable of, you were dying for more of him.

As the water washed over you, all you could think about was Harry’s lips on yours. The hunger in his eyes before he kissed you, the taste of red wine on his tongue.

—

“Would you not get in trouble for this?” you asked Harry, hands wrapped tightly around the hot chocolate he’d handed you. “Maybe. But once we have your stuff back, the case is over. They can’t say anything then,” he shrugged, turning to lean against the kitchen counter. He got more handsome every time you looked at him, as if that were even possible. Now, standing there with his old man plaid pyjama pants and a T-shirt tight against his muscular frame, you were left pressing your thighs together to keep the heat in. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“Can’t sleep either, huh?” Harry smiled from the sofa. You almost jumped out of your skin at his voice, having tried your hardest to creep silently into the kitchen. He looked adorable, tucked under a thick blanket with his long legs squashed up at the end of the sofa. “Just needed water,” you told him, grabbing an empty cup from the counter.

“Why don’t you want to share a bed with me?” you suddenly burst out, turning on your heel to face him. You weren’t going to beg, didn’t want to whine, but the words came out before you could stop yourself. Harry chuckled, padding over to join you by the sink. He pushed a strand of hair out of your face, cupping your cheek with his free hand. Pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, he whispered, “come on,” his voice low and husky.

You followed Harry out of the kitchen and back up the stairs, watching as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He patted his legs, signalling for you to join him. You straddled his thick thighs, eyes fixed on his as he looked over your body. In only his t-shirt and your tiny panties, you’d never looked more delicious to him. “I didn’t share a bed with you because I try not to sleep with women on the first date,” he told you, slipping a hand under your t-shirt before holding your waist with a firm grip. “And I wouldn’t be able to resist if I were in bed with you.” His eyes came to rest on yours, his pupils blown under thick eyelashes. “You don’t have to resist, Harry,” you replied, your voice small, barely slipping out past your heart pounding in your throat. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, one hand toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. His hand moved further up your body, thumb running over your nipple.

“Y’so beautiful,” Harry cooed, pulling your t-shirt off in one quick movement. He sat back for a second, an arrogant smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he gazed over you. Hunger was written all over his face, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine.

He leaned in, his lips soft as they brushed against yours. Gentle, yet fuelled by desire. His tongue moved around yours, a delicate dance that left you breathless against his mouth.

Harry’s hands roamed your exposed skin, tracing patterns of heat and need. His touch was electric, insatiable as he gripped and groped at every bit of skin he could reach. He moved with purpose, tracing the curves and contours of your upper body. Every touch, every stroke, sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

His lips left yours, trailing a path of fire down your throat, a trail of goosebumps left in their wake. His breath was hot against your skin, his lips smooth as he suckled and nibbled at the sensitive flesh.

You shifted slightly on his lap, his hard cock nudging at your folds through his pyjama pants. The room was filled with a symphony of whispered moans and ragged breaths as you rubbed yourself on him, the soft scratch of Harry’s pyjamas between your thighs only adding to your desire. You needed him in a way that transcended reality, a hunger that went beyond the physical. Your yearning was deep in your soul as Harry’s hands continued to explore you, his touch more than just a physical sensation. It was a language of its own, speaking unbridled passion.

He wrapped an arm under your hips, lifting you up just enough to slip his pyjamas down his thighs. His cock sprang up between the two of you, grazing your entrance. You whimpered as his tip touched you, your head falling onto Harry’s shoulder. He stroked a hand down his shaft, hissing as his thumb brushed over the angry tip. He started to move you, not expecting you to want to ride him, but you wrapped a firm hand around his neck and shook your head softly, pulling your face from his shoulder to meet his eyes. “Like this, Harry,” you whispered, shifting in his grip until his head lined up with your folds. You pulled your panties to the side, your juices warm against his head.

“You’re on birth control?” he asked, voice strangled as he resisted the urge to push into you. You nodded, sinking down slowly until his thick cock was deep inside of you, splitting your walls wide open. A deep cry fell from your lips as you stilled, his shaft throbbing as it settled into you.

“So fuckin’ tight, kitten,” he drawled, lips planting hungry kisses along your jawline. His eyes were fixed on the mirror behind you, watching his hand grip onto the curve of your ass. His free hand slid under you, easing you up ever so slightly. You could feel him everywhere, in your stomach and in your throat as he pushed deeper into you. Your walls were threatening to burst around his shaft, the size of his cock scratching an itch you never knew you’d had. It was pure ecstasy.

“Harry,” you whined, gripping him tighter as you pushed your hips upwards, starting to find your rhythm. The burn was white-hot in your core, tingles of pleasure spreading through your body as you bounced up and down on his lap. Your nails raked down his back as he fucked into you, deep whines and moans being pulled from your mouth every time Harry’s cock hit your sweet spot. His strong arm was guiding your hips up and down, his free hand still exploring your body as he pressed kisses along your throat. You still wanted more of each other, still searching each other’s bodies as if you had been starved of touch for years.

You were as close as you could be to him, your bodies melding together with every push of his hips. Your clit was rubbing against the fabric of your panties with every movement, every slap of your cheeks against his groin sending you further into your spiral.

“You’re mine, all mine, huh?” Harry mewled against your skin, his lips moving down to find your nipple. He sucked and licked around the bud, his lips swollen and hot. “All yours,” you whined, your orgasm creeping up on you after Harry’s dominant ownership. He held you tightly, your trembling legs heavy on his arm despite how light you felt. You were sure you could take flight in that moment, pleasure coursing through you with every buck of his hips. You threw your head onto his shoulder as you came, a strangled cry pushing past your dry lips.

Your walls tightened around his cock, his lips pressing a tiny moan into your skin. He flipped you over once your breathing slowed, the new angle pushing his cock deeper into you. Harry splayed a hand across your stomach, feeling where he was fucking into you. His eyes were dark as he looked down at you, watching the way your tits bounced with every rock of his hips. His thrusts started to get sloppier, his hips knocking into you harder as he came close to his high. You could feel him throbbing inside of you as he panted, jaw slack as he pulled out of you quickly. One hand stroked the length of his cock as he came, his come splashing violently all over your chest. You released the hand gripping his shoulder to swipe a finger through the puddle, licking it from your fingertip hungrily. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he drawled, chest heaving as he watched you.

You were more content in that moment than you’d ever been, silently thanking whoever had decided to steal your bag. If it was all an insane plan to get you here, covered in Harry’s come, you’d thank them every day for the rest of your life.

taglist: @sleutherclaw @slutforcoffein @harrysolaf @opheliaofficial07 @dragonslayersupremacy @nikkisimps @michellekstyles @im-an-overthinker @fangirl7060 @indierockgirrl @palmettogal508 @thereunion1d @hannah9921 @harryshotpocket @daphnesutton @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @mema10 @annageeeezzzz @cicicavill7 @drewsephrry @tswiftsgf @ashleighsss @bikestyles @he6rtshaker @prettygurl-2009 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @teammom4 @chesthairrry @golden-hoax @lilfreakjez @swag13r @cursingatdaylight @s-h-e-l-b-e-e

#harry edward styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles masterlist #harryslittlefreakk

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chilschuck · 8 months ago

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I NEED CHILCHUCK+LAIOS WITH A LANA DEL REY CODED READER!!!!!

Recently I've been listening to Lana del Rey's music and it's just.... Ethereal, ethereal and melancholic.

So, I would like reader to have a similar vibe, you know? She looks ethereal, the type of gorgeous that you doubt if she is real or just a hallucination, but also melancholic. Something about her just always looks a little sad and lost in thought.

She's also gentle, like a mother's embrace, she's soft spoken (bonus if she also sings and has a similar voice like Lana)

But if you had listened to Lana's music (which I think you have) she has a ton of slightly suggestive music, so maybe she's also a bit flirty and playfull.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ anon you have no idea what you have done to me. i hadn’t listened to her music in depth but now i am HOOKED. AND THIS IDEA WAS SO FUN TO WRITE FOR???? god bless you…….. i hope hcs are okay! i went a little ham on them, lol. even put lyrics i thought fit them in a way! i hope this is what you were wanting, and thank you so much for your request!!! <3

— HEADCANONS: lana del rey coded reader.

୨୧ i’ve got my eye on you. (say yes to heaven!)

꒰ charas: ꒱ LAIOS & CHILCHUCK.

꒰ wc: ꒱ 852

꒰ rating: ꒱ sfw + fem!reader.

✦ once again, sorry if anything seems ooc. i had too much writing this and blasting her music, LOL. and a special thank you to my love jackie for reading over it for me!!! WAHH

— LAIOS: “i can see my sweet boy swaying.”

✦ The first time he lays eyes on you, he has to ask himself if he’s dreaming. Certainly he must be, with the way the world just seems to stop whenever you’re around. There’s an air of mystery there, and when your eyes flit up to meet his, he’s captivated.

✦ It’s not just your beauty that enraptured him; I like to think he saw a depth in you he hadn’t seen before. Maybe he was drawn to the way you always looked almost… wistful, longing… Sad. But there was a beauty in sadness, wasn’t there? The way you still moved about so captivatingly while seeming so far away in those eyes… It was breath-taking.

✦ Laios definitely thinks you’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen. It’s haunting almost, the way your hair frames your face and the silkiness of your voice. The first time you spoke to him, he knew he would beg you to do it again. You’re soft-spoken, a voice that carries so much weight for him. Say the word, and he’s there.

✦ I don’t think anything could’ve prepared him for your playfulness. You leave little ghosting touches down his arms and back when he’s deep in thought, only fueling his speculation that you’re just his imagination. Maybe you even whisper his name, having it bleed from your lips in that way of yours that makes his skin erupt in goosebumps. Press your lips against his ear and hum his name, only to pull away with that grin on your face. Watch as he opens his mouth to say something, anything, cheeks red as he swallows. (I think teasing him would be a lot of fun, especially when he’ll just buckle.)

✦ The first time Laios hears you sing, his head seems to spin. Direct it at him, sing for him, and he might just melt. Maybe you don’t even mean for him to hear you the first time, but now it’s something he longs for.

✦ Aside from the teasing and flirting, you’re gentle. Almost painfully so, your touch too sweet for him to fathom. Look at him with those distant eyes and cup his cheeks in your palms, your sweet boy, and he instantly leans into your embrace. Pull him in, hold him close, maybe even sway just a bit as you hum. I think you’ll really make him feel like he’s dreaming, then.

— CHILCHUCK: “be my once in a lifetime.”

✦ Don’t blame him if you catch him staring. The first time he sees you, Chilchuck falters. Is it possible for someone to be this beautiful? Ethereal seemed to be an understatement, especially when your gaze met his.

✦ We know Chilchuck doesn’t like to let too much show; this man is repressed. Even so, you draw something out of him. You’re deep like an ocean, dark like its depths, strong like the tide. He doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but maybe this is as close as it gets.

✦ He feels like he could drown in you. Your voice, your eyes, your touch. You’re gentle in all the right ways, especially in the way you speak. Chilchuck has heightened senses, and you please every single one of them. When you first decided to talk to him, he couldn’t believe how soft your voice really was. Say his name and he just about can’t take it.

✦ You drive him up the wall when you tease him. You know he loves to hear you speak, and when you let that playfulness bleed into your tone, he’s smitten. Flirt with him and you might just get a red faced half-foot in the palm of your hands. Your embrace is what really makes his head spin. Pull him close to your chest with your addicting touch and he might just never let you go.

✦ Chilchuck longs for genuine affection like this, revels in it. If you give that to him, even just a taste, he comes back for more. It goes without saying that your voice when you sing has him almost gasping for air. How can someone look this gorgeous, sound this breathtaking? Pull him back to reality with you, remind him this isn’t some sort of cruel trick on his mind.

✦ Chilchuck doesn’t like to see your saddened gaze, even if it’s only there in fleeting moments. You’re melancholic, he knows that, and for some reason it just makes him want to dive deeper. Are you hiding things like he is? Maybe there’s an unsaid connection there with that shared knowledge. Chil lets himself go when he’s meeting your gaze, all that emotion he bottles up doesn’t seem to matter when he’s with you.

✦ Going back to your gentle touch, he just about crumbles under you. Imagine how tightly he’s wound, how long he’s craved some sort of connection like he has with you. Chilchuck, when he’s alone with you, lets himself get lost in thought too. But instead of painful memories and the tasks at hand, he drowns in your embrace and wonders how he ever went this long without someone like you.

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿#WHEE I DID IT!#GOT THIS OUT BEFORE MIDNIGHT!#now time to do schoolwork LOL #delicious in dungeon x reader #dunmeshi x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #laios touden x reader #laios x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck x reader #dividers by cafekitsune

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dc418writes · 3 months ago

Text

Welcomed Distraction

Summary🪄: Both you and Frankie need comforting after a tough day

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS, happy adult fun times (be safe out there!), breeding kink, unprotected p-in-v, language, unclothed female-semi clothed male, mention of pregnancy/trying for baby

A/N🎤: Hello🌸 long time no see (*ahem sorry🥴) lol. So firstly, this is my very first Pedro boy fic and I’m v nervous (then again when am I not 🙃). Also, this is my submission for the #hotdilfsummerchallenge by @hellishjoel and I’m hoping you guys enjoy what I came up with, as well as read the other works (or even submit something yourself!✨)

*DISCLAIMER(S)!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they all were found via Pinterest. Although my works are typically imagined with a black!reader, everyone is welcome to read*

At the sound of your sigh as you locked the door behind you, Frankie knew what kind of day you had. Not to mention the way you took off your shoes.

If you gently toed them off next to the others, taking your sweet time, you were exhausted and would more than likely crash on the couch once you eventually sat down. Left them scattered making your own little trail from the door? You were excited about something. He was man enough to admit that although he knew you were very happy to see him, - flashing your bright smile before pecking his lips and updating him on what your day entailed - that excitement was mostly for his son. “How was your day huh?,” you’d ask the adorable eight month old making him giggle from all the kisses you’d leave on his juicy cheeks. “I missed you!”

When you’d kick off your shoes though, not caring when they’d knock against the wall - like you did tonight - you were pissed. And Frankie just hoped it wasn’t something he’d done or forgotten to do.

“Everything alright?,” he asks over his shoulder while he mutes the football game currently on tv.

“I secretly hope that place burns down overnight so I won’t have to step foot in it ever again.”

“So no,” Frankie states as you finally make it to the couch with a beer in hand. A much needed smile curls along your lips - and in turn loosens a bit of the tension still plaguing you from earlier - noticing the boxes of takeout from your favorite restaurant on the coffee table in front of him. Before you can say anything, his strong hands are gripping your hips guiding you towards his lap. Both sets of your lips automatically being drawn towards each other as you settle in your favorite seat.

Well second favorite.

“Francisco Morales I’d marry you right now if I could.” He only chuckles leaving a chaste kiss on your temple.

“Tell me what happened.”

“Well, first it started with a couple calls from patients upset they needed to be seen before getting a refill. Like I’m sorry you haven’t shown up for your appointments in two years!” A grin spreads on his pink lips as he gently shakes his head of envy inducing chocolate curls.

“Then for a while now I’ve been getting calls when the phones are supposed to be on downtime. It’s also happened to the lady that sits next to me a couple times, so she decides to say something. My manager just says ‘well if you’ve given your extension out or if it’s transferred to you, then the phone’s gonna ring’.”

“But if the phones are down in the first place, either way that shouldn’t happen,” your boyfriend finishes practically reading your mind.

“Exactly! But nooo it has to be something I’m doing, it can’t be the shitty phone system.” Frankie knows you’re angry - and reasonably so- but he can’t help the way his stomach flutters at your cute little groan. How he wants to kiss that pout away until you can’t remember why you were mad in the first place. “Maybe he’ll listen to you since you have a penis.”

“Just tell me when and I’m there baby,” he murmurs against your neck trailing kisses from your pulse to your jaw. His mustache prickling your skin and making you softly giggle.

Even if you didn’t say, you wouldn’t be surprised if he made a little visit to the clinic within the coming week. Standard manners and gentle smile to everyone else as if he was just innocently coming by to see his girl when you both knew he was liable to strangle the slender, uptight man once he set his eyes on him at the mere mention of making you upset.

“Then, as the cherry on top, the last call I get today is this guy getting mad at me because his results aren’t ready, which I have no control over since I don’t work with that doctor,” you explain taking a quick pull from the sweating bottle in your hand. “I keep trying to tell him there’s nothing I can really do, but then he has the audacity to say ‘You’re not understanding me. I need this for another appointment and now I’m not sure if I’ll make it!’ Sir I understand fine; don’t insult my intelligence. Still won’t get you your results sooner.”

The stranger’s words and harsh tone repeats in your mind only making you upset all over again. And not only could Frankie see it, but he could feel the effect such a short interaction had on you. Your back practically going rigid with tightness and prompting him to rub soothing circles over your shirt trying to relax the muscles there. That vein near the pulse in your neck on full display as if standing in solidarity with you.

A stream of frustrated air leaves your nostrils trying to remind yourself that everything was in the past now. How tomorrow would be a new day with, hopefully, little to no rude patients. “Sorry, I know that’s probably my ego talking-,”

“Still doesn’t give him, or anybody else, the right to talk to you like that.” So two men he now needed to hunt down. No problem. “I’m sorry you had a rough day.”

You simply shrug - your attempt to brush it off feeling like you need to be strong and just forget - as his lips softly press against your temple. “Comes with the territory. How was your day though? Hopefully better than mine.”

“It was alright. Elaine came by with ‘hot shot’ to get Isaiah.” Hot shot being her new fiancé that was some fancy lawyer based out of Los Angeles. They met a few months after she broke up with Frankie and got engaged not long after.

“And how did that go?”

Now was Frankie’s turn to shrug taking the offered beer from your hand to get a pull. “Fine. Said hello, made sure she had everything, then left a few minutes later. Short and sweet.”

Although they’ve had this arrangement since baby Isaiah was just a couple months old, it always hurt Frankie having to let his son go. The apartment was uncomfortably quieter without the little babbles and gurgles, and no longer felt like home. Given he’d see him again next week, but he’d began to worry if his ex would move away now she was engaged. Wanting to start fresh with the ‘man of her dreams’ and start their own family.

And if that happened, who knows when he’d see his son again.

The thought’s kept him up plenty of nights unknown to you, but his solemn mood is easily read looking into his brown eyes. Your palm caresses his cheek bringing his attention back to you on his lap. Thumb softly tracing over the worry line between his brows before leaning in to tap your nose against his. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

Your boyfriend just nods flashing a glimpse of a soft smile. A quiet, “I know,” falling from his lips after pecking your full, bottom one.

“If it’d make you feel better, I’ll give you one.”

Any time you said that in the past, he’d just chuckle and shake his head. Maybe even click his tongue before he’d reply with, “let’s focus on this one for now.” It’s not that you were trying to give him a replacement kid, you just hated to see him sad. And similar to how Frankie was willing to do anything for you, you were easily as smitten for the former military pilot.

His larger hands - slightly rough from years of work - grip your hips gently moving you so your thighs now straddle his hips. A glint in his darkening eyes that surprises you, but also has a familiar sensation building between your legs. “You mean it?”

The husky way he whispers near your mouth has an embarrassing moan slipping past your lips that even catches you off guard. A wet patch growing in your panties already as you nod nearly dumb just from his voice alone.

His lips crash into yours rhythmically moving together as if one was complimenting the other. Your fingers tangle in his silky strands while his tongue glides over yours and hands knead at your lower cheeks. You can’t help but grind and shift trying to find some sort of friction as your core throbs incessantly.

“Frankie please,” you pant. His mouth descends to your heated neck nipping at your skin while his hand moves to toy with your achy nipple through your top.

“Have to tell me what you want baby.” He sounds nearly gone himself - hardness poking you through his jeans - but he chooses to tease instead. Any other time you might play back with a smart reply, maybe a little edging, but tonight your need is too strong and mind too hazy with lust and the man beneath you for games.

“N-Need you in me..now Frankie.”

A deep groan vibrates in his chest when you bump against the now prominent bulge becoming painful from the quick rush of blood. “Can’t say no to that now can I?”

In a flurry of movements, Frankie’s removing your scrubs and underwear between deep, hurried kisses, and soon you’re bare; quickly unlatching his buckle to remove his stiff and reddened member leaking and more than ready for you. The mess between your thighs makes it easy to slide down, taking him inch by inch until you’re both connected and moaning from the tightness.

“Fuck don’t think I’ll last,” Frankie grits shifting to taste one breast while his hand plucks and squeezes the other making you whimper. “Feels so good baby.”

Adjusted enough, your hips begin to move and bounce filling the living room with slaps of skin and moans. You try to contain yourself - worried about being that couple - but when Frankie plants his feet on the plush carpet below bucking up into you so hard you have to grab the armrest while your other hand grabs his broad shoulder, you can’t control what leaves your mouth.

“Wanna give me a baby huh? Want me to fill you up?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Want everybody to know you’re mine?” His grip on you is sure to leave bruises in the morning. “That I’m the only one that makes you feel this good?”

“Yes!” The faster you both move, you can see and feel stars. Feel hundreds, maybe thousands, of them tickle and prick your skin that have you believing you have to be experiencing something other worldly. Your spirit ascending to some sort of nirvana that you’d never want to come down from.

“Shit - might have to just keep you on my cock. You like that idea?,” he grins biting at your earlobe.

You frantically nod. “D-Don’t stop, please baby! Mm there..Frankie..Frankie!”

Gripping the back of your neck bringing you as close as he can, Frankie buries his face in your neck letting your noises and babbling spur him on. You’re both painfully close - panting and sticky with sweat - just needing that extra push only you could give each other.

“Shit, feel you squeezin’ me. Cmon let go I got you.” Shifting to the edge of the couch, he angles just right where your swollen nub gets the nudge and pressure that has your back arching and toes curling. You feel teeth and curses growled against your neck along with the spurts of his release inside you as his pumps become staggered and slower.

All that can be heard now is you both catching your breaths and holding onto each other as if afraid to somehow float away from the post orgasmic high.

“You okay? Still with me?,” Frankie asks tracing his thick fingers up and down your spine. You merely hum in response making the man you love chuckle. His pride loved how sleepy and clingy you got in the midst of your afterglow.

“Alright let’s get you cleaned up.”

His strong arms easily keep you attached to his sturdy chest as he stands ready to take you to the bathroom. Your nose automatically nuzzling and running along the side of his neck loving the smell of his cologne mixed with his sweat. “Wait!”

He halts just before stepping into the hall. “What’s wrong?”

“The food,” you sleepily reply making him grin kissing your shoulder.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“M’kay,” you yawn comfortably closing your eyes as you’re gently rocked from him beginning to move again. “Have a baby.”

He knew it wouldn’t happen that quickly, especially with you still actively on birth control, but the thought of you carrying his child had a warmth spreading along his bones. He could vividly see you with a hand on your extended belly smiling and glowing like the sweetest angel. Isaiah would nearly be two, but walking around keeping a close eye on his sibling.

Did it also make Frankie nervous? Of course, but he couldn’t lie that his excitement of seeing a bright eyed bundle that looked exactly like you outweighed the fear.

“Yea, we’re having a baby.”

Loosely inspired by the rough day I had at work some time ago🥲 lol. But again I hope you guys enjoy and please let me know if I missed any warnings!

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #Frankie morales x woc #triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #Pedro pascal x woc #hotdilfsummerchallenge

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henneseyhoe · 2 months ago

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Guess Who

Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader

ORDER: Watermelon Lollipop (friends to lovers), S’mores (virginity), Chocolate Kisses (secret admirer), Vanilla Muffin (soft sex), Coffee(smut), Tea (fluff)

SUMMARY: no, lol

💌-mind you, this was supposed to be a headcanon, not a whole one shot and yall can probably tell, but i don’t listen, not even to myself lmfao. hope you enjoy, anon 💋

The Bakery<3

✮✮✮✮

When you and Lewis met, you both were nothing but children. You were younger, but it didn’t matter, both of you were impressionable, soaking up everything you saw. Lewis saw most of the world for what it truly was, you on the other hand, not so much.

You were sheltered by your parents for most of your years, nothing to be shamed about, but you just didn’t know as much as Lewis or any of your other peers when it came to certain things. You felt inexperienced with most things actually.

Because you two were best friends, you followed him nearly everywhere, clinging onto him like your own human safety blanket. Also because being by yourself made you nervous, but that was neither here nor there to you!

There was rarely a time you two were apart! That was up until your own work ramped up and you were forced to separate away from him, keeping busy in Monaco meanwhile he traveled for his work.

Not long after you were forced to separate, you began getting flowers and even poems delivered directly to your office, sometimes waiting there for you when you first clocked in. And not just any poems, sweet ones. Flirty, witty and charming ones. It left you puzzled. Who could be crushing on you? No one in the office, hopefully.

You voiced to your friends about your confusion, each and every one of them either swooning at the idea of a secret admirer falling for you and pulling you out of the shell you called being a grown woman with other things to do than mingle all the time or shrugging with the same confusion as you.

You then asked around your job like an idiot as if any of these grumpy men in their mid forties would give you a real hint, still you felt it was worth a try.

You got turned down three times by people who insisted it wasn’t them and they didn’t know and that left you with nothing to work with! Not even the girl who delivered the notes gave you a hint. yes, even after you bribed her, or attempted, I should say. You found yourself at a dead end again.

It wasn’t until you got yet another note that you had an inkling. One little detail made your thoughts clear from your mind, a bit embarrassment lingering, but mostly still clear. The note contained a secret not even your main circle knew, something you only told two people about in life, two people who you thought were your best friends.

“Did he write this? yes or no!?” You pried, holding Lewis down on the floor of your apartment while shoving the piece of drawn on paper in his face, attempting to get the man to crack. You were the least intimidating person he has ever went up against, so he kept that same goofy smile spread across his face as if he did know something.

“I keep telling you, I don’t know!”

“Then who?! I’ve never told anyone else but you and him! So either you’re lying or one of you snitched and told someone else!”

Lewis sighs and flips you off of him almost too easily, your back coming in contact with the hard floor as your hand still held up the evidence. You made a mental note to hit the weights a little more in the gym.

He pins your arms by your head and huffs, squeezing at your wrists to get you to stop moving, which you protested against by kicking your feet.

“Stop hitting me. If I told you the truth, you wouldn’t believe me” He expresses, an unreadable look on his face now instead of the smile that antagonized you earlier with information hidden behind it you desperately wanted to know. Your brows just furrowed, you already didn’t believe or trust a word he was saying.

“As if it’s so shocking. I know it’s him!”

Lewis rolls his eyes at your stupid assumption and laughs, letting you go with a warning look. “If you think me and him are on the same level of literacy then I need to step my pen up. Cause those poems were some of my best work”

Your eyes widened like a deer in headlights once comprehending what he said.

The bomb he dropped on you in that moment lingered in your head for days, nights even. You refused to dwell on it for long and buried your head in work and books to keep busy, but that damn note found its way into your thoughts at every second. Though Lewis knew casually writing in the fact that you were a virgin in his most recent love letter may have been weird and wasn’t the best idea, he also knew it was the only way he knew you’d knock your options down to only two possibilities.

You could barely fathom the fact that he liked you in that way. He knew everything about you, you’d think that would have scared him away by now, but apparently not. He was still consistent with his letters and roses, even apologizing if he made you uncomfortable or ruined the friendship.

You weren’t uncomfortable, you were shocked. Truth be told, you had always had some kind of a crush on him, feelings and emotions you’d starve until seeing him again and having the privilege of being close, passing it off as your same ole’ clinginess. It was obviously not just that to everyone else.

Lewis knew very well about the attraction, his had always been there, he just thought you rather not speak on it. He then grew tired of that.

With that being said, you were reluctant to follow up with him. He talked a good game, but you feared ruining something that had been amazing for years, which he reassured you if nothing worked, then it’d be no hard feelings. Eventually, you decided to throw caution to the wind.

Giving Lewis a chance may have been the best thing you had done this summer. He took you seriously even with lack of experience in certain areas, he took you into consideration with everything under the sun and made sure to go at your pace..With a few nudges here and there, of course. You’d get nowhere if he counted on you 100%.

As the relationship grew, there was an obvious connection missing. It was the elephant in the room when you two were alone and close together. You weren’t a square, damn sure wasn’t incompetent either. You just…had never had sex before.

It was never a need to lose your virginity, you truly didn’t care, or at least that’s what you told yourself on many occasions and days of ovulation.

You two had the conversation about sex multiple times and agreed it’d just happen naturally.. even though he wanted it badly and you found yourself daydreaming and thinking about it more often than you’d ever like to admit to anyone, even yourself.

It was almost unbearable not doing anything. Even though you had never went to second base, your body made it known it had needs. Your skin heated anytime his touches lingered anywhere on you. It started to become painfully obvious too.

When the moment you both had been thinking about for long enough manifested itself in the middle of the night in your bedroom, you felt your heart was gonna jump out of your chest the entire time. The soft caresses of your skin accompanied by sweet kisses along your collar bone left your head spinning and your tummy fluttering with butterflies that seemed to never subside.

Your face was hot and your mind was racing, he didn’t give you time to be insecure about anything.

You watched him go down on you, his wet tongue teasingly gliding between your lips, the tip of it landing on your clit as he completed one lick. You shuttered. Long before you had convinced yourself that masturbation felt the same as someone down there, but you lied to yourself, unaware until now.

The thought of someone pleasuring you, getting off to you getting off was so erotic, so nasty, but damn did it help to get you close. Soft moans flooded his ears in reaction to every flick of his tongue and it had him throbbing in his briefs, a wet spot from his precum darkening the fabric against his tip as he ground himself against your bed while he licked away at your sensitive pearl.

You avoided pulling on his freshly done braids, curtesy of you, and instead went for your fitted sheets.

He began sucking on your clit while two finger circled around your soaked entrance, you pulling at your sheets again so hard that one end popped off of the mattresses corner.

Neither of you gave it attention, too busy to care.

He encouraged you to tell him when it felt good, when you needed more or less, and you gladly followed instructions.

“Just like that”

You mumble out, toes curling. He was doing irreparable damage. You didn’t think you could go back to just self pleasure after this.

Flattening his tongue, he allowed you to buck your hips up into his face to ride his tongue at your own pace while simultaneously slipping two of his fingers inside of you, massaging your walls until they gripped to the point it where it was hard to complete a full thrust. From then, he just made a ‘come hither’ motion, pressing up against your gspot with skill as you moaned out a name you didn’t think you’d ever be moaning, his.

He covered your entire body with his when he entered you. It felt like he held your hands the entire time too, pinning them to the mattress as his hips collided with yours in a rhythm he made up on the spot just for you, customized with what he knew made you tick. The strokes were slow, but long, and deep enough to where it felt like he reached the end of your pussy, pushing the boundaries of the ‘wall’ any time he’d bottom out into you. You felt so full of him, so warm. You felt like melting into the bed just then.

“Look at me, baby”

You hear from above you, your eyes fluttering back open to look up into the honey colored pools he called eyes. You began getting flustered, but it was all too late for shyness. He had already unlocked something no one else had the pleasure of even getting close to. He loved the thought of it.

“You are so fucking beautiful. I could stay like this all night” He confessed, a breathy moan exiting his mouth after. The sound of his voice sent shivers up your spine and tingling to your clit. Your back arched off of the bed, your chest smashing against his as your legs closed in around his hips to somehow pull him deeper, needing him closer than he already was.

He could feel the constant pull of your walls, the muscles spasming and tightening around his shaft as his pelvis nudged your clit, the sensation being deliciously different from your fingers.

Soon enough he was quickening his thrusts just a little, one hand letting go of yours to cradle your face instead, now forcing you to look at nothing but him. You whined.

“Lew-“ Breathless and dazed, you could feel a tug in the pit of your stomach and somehow he could feel it too. He could feel how close you were, you didn’t have to speak. Both of your moans intertwined with each other and you could swear your neighbors hated you now just from the way your bed began knocking against your wall.

By now, he could barely pull out with his hips stuttering, but all you needed was the grinding, you could easily cum off of just that.

“I can feel it-“ You gasped as your eyes rolled back. You only had a small idea of what it really was, a sample from your own late night sessions, but this one felt completely different. Something that had you feeling a different warmth all over, your vision blurring in and out before everything around you except for Lewis became nonexistent. It was just you and him. Him and you.

His arms wrapped around your body to hold you as you came down for your high and he peaked at his, drenching the inside of the condom he put on beforehand. Thankfully, because you feared the mysterious “it” feeling would create a little person that looked like the both of you.

Panting and whispering sweet nothings into your ear, he refused to let you go again.

You two stayed there the rest of the night, bodies pressed together with you tracing his tattoos and him caressing up your sides, thanking you for giving him the chance.

✮✮✮✮

💌- the way i’m sooo sleepy and sooo shocked i got this out in one day? look at me go, oh em geeee!

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nninaa24 · 3 months ago

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When He Knew He Fell For You

bakugou katsuki x reader

could be read as gn reader (i think i hope i didn’t imply any gender 💀)

readers quirk is heat control, basically reader can control the air temperature ig around them for a long period of time and has a very strong hold of said ability and bakugo fangirls over reader. that’s really it lol

He didn’t realize at first when you walked in the classroom on the first day. it was like his soul oddly felt calm for once. eyes glued to you and his face warming up.

When you sat next to him completely ignoring him and in your own world. He thought that was weird, everyone in the class tried speaking to him initiating a conversation with him to get to know each other better. it was funny to him how you didn’t speak at all and people automatically were drawn to you.

When you first displayed your power during your training. It was so intense and unbelievable hot, like actually, the whole class was overheating and the ground looked like it was melting.he thought with the use of your quirk he could most definitely always use his quirk no matter the weather. and that was when he started to admire your, and that was when he first ever initiate a conversation with you. simply asking you about your quirk and the limit to it.

When he learned more about you, he admired how much you trained to be able to control such an intense quirk. He liked how you seem calm and collected, yet once on the battlefield, it’s like a whole new person is born. such an intense gaze with an overwhelming power. oh how he loved it all.

Fast forward towards the time where he got kidnapped 🌚.

By that time you guys have already formed some sort of relationship where you guys aren’t friends but get along and spend some time together ( his words not yours). he recognized how much his friends fought for him to get him back. though, what caught his eye was how hard you fought to get him back.

oh how he felt when he saw the air around you start to heat up and how the air turned into smoke(?), how your hands heated up it might’ve been like 150 degrees hotter than the normal temperature around you, and how fast you were moving towards the league. they definitely regretted not kidnapping you instead of boom boy.

poor boy felt so embarrassed to be admiring you at a time like that. he quite literally had stars in his eye soon enough he snap out of it when he saw izuku he knew it was his queue to leave.

that was definitely the time he realized he liked yo. took him a while lol.

notes

first time writing on tumblr and first time writing a headcannon(?). idk how tumblr works so bare with me guys😞. idk how i feel about this i’ve had this idea in my head for a while now but finally put it in words 😭.

bye guys mwah ( i love him so much im very normal about him )

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miviaceleste · 4 months ago

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A Blackrock Story: A Boy with Turquoise Eyes

Happy 12th Anniversary to Blackrock Chronicle!

This comic ended up being 47 pages long (when I first sketched it, it was only 20 pages long). Since I can only upload 30 images in a post, I had to combine 2 pages into 1 image so hopefully it's still visually fine and not annoying to scroll through!

I wrote this mini-story more than 10 years ago, so I figured it was time to finally make it into a comic (after editing the writing a lot because I became a much better writer since lol).

Be aware of the TWs, and I hope you enjoy this comic!

TW: Violence || Blood || Injuries/Scars/Burn Marks || Kidnapping || (Temporary) Death || Loss of Limb / Amputation

Thank you all for reading one of my most insane projects ever!

Now, here’s another long story:

About 8 years ago, my life became so busy that to stay on top of my studies and activities, I stopped watching a lot of YouTubers, including the Yogscast.

I’ve grown up throughout the years. I had to stop acting like a kid to figure out what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I’m still an artist today, but I haven’t drawn in this way for about 3 years to pursue my real passion. I love to draw, but I didn’t have the time or inspiration to make something grand.

About 3 months ago, I suddenly got curious about how all those YouTubers I stopped watching were doing, so I checked out their channels and watched a video or two before moving on. When I got to the Yogscast channel, on the other hand, I quickly fell in love with the new content and with everyone again.

It was insane to see how immediately my love for them came back. In 3 months, I’ve watched so many videos and streams/VODs. It’s all so comforting, funny, and uplifting. Clearly, I missed so much content in the past 8 years, but at least I don’t have to worry about running out of things to watch for a while.

What made me most happy was that despite changing a lot, I never stopped being that kid who laughed at the Yogscast’s shenanigans. It just goes to show that no matter how much the world tries to push you around, you never lose that sense of joy you had as a child.

Now, about Rythian:

Since I started watching the Yogscast in 2011, Rythian has always been my favorite. I loved his series so much, especially with how he got into character to give us an immersive experience. It was an escape for me as a kid. When difficult moments were thrown at me, I watched Rythian’s series to find a sense of comfort.

So when I started watching his and Zoey’s Blackrock series, my mind was blown. The storytelling, acting, humor, and drama of the series were so immersive and touching that my creativity exploded.

I mainly use art to express myself and my interests because I struggle to talk about it. But funny enough, Blackrock was the only interest of mine that got me to not draw, but to write. I wrote a lot of short stories about the series—even how I envisioned the series would end. I was so inspired to create all the time from this series.

And what’s crazy is that at the beginning of this summer, I found all of those written drafts and notes from when I was a kid. I kept them all for 10+ years and found a very loose (and not that good) draft of this comic and I felt really inspired to finish it.

It was roughly when I was first watching Blackrock too when I realized that I can be creative in the future. The Yogscast helped me understand that I can do whatever I want for the rest of my life. If they could do it, then why can’t I?

What’s also wonderful is that even after so many years, Rythian never stopped being my favorite. When I started watching the main channel again a few months ago, I immediately found myself rooting for him whenever he was in the group videos. I just remembered how much happiness he brought me when I was younger and it makes me so happy that I still get so much joy whenever I hear his voice.

While working on this comic, I watched all of Kirbycraft and caught up on Kirby Farm. I can’t help but smile the whole time Rythian, Briony, and Kirsty interact with one another. The dynamic of these three brings me so much laughter and comfort. A part of me is upset that I didn’t get back to watching everyone when Kirbycraft was still live, but better late than never, right?

I also originally started this comic without the intention of posting it. But then I figured, Hey, it’d be great to share it with everyone who’s also been impacted by this series and the Yogscast in general, so I made this blog to post it here. Honestly, I’m not sure when the next time I’ll be able to draw is (who knew building a career takes away a lot of your energy and time?). But I think that’s what’s so wonderful about my love for Yogscast and particularly Blackrock: I didn’t make this comic for the likes or views. It was just because I wanted to, and I’m so happy to see there are so many people on here who feel the same love for them as I do.

This series and the people who made it, along with the people who supported it and loved it and continued to love it, impacted me for the better. I learned so many years ago that I can be creative for a living, and have been working hard towards doing that since.

Happy 12th Anniversary to the Blackrock Chronicle. To Rythian and Zoey who put a smile on this kid’s face even during the toughest of times.

And to the Yogscast, thank you for being there for me when I needed you all the most and for still being here when I came back. Your ability to inspire me and make me laugh never disappeared throughout the years I was gone, and I’m ready to laugh some more.

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ladyinwriting18 · 11 months ago

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A Loyal Death Eater (Severus Snape x Reader)

Summary: Severus comes home to find he's been left a gift from The Dark Lord--you.

Words: 4901 Warnings: PIV, Human Given As A Gift, Master/Servant, Pet Names, Fingering, Oral Male Receiving, Dirty Talk. Author's Note: Hiiii if you know me then welcome back--WILL I EVER STICK TO ONE FANDOM TO WRITE FOR? The answer is no lol If this is your first time reading my writing then welcome! I hope you enjoy my first ever Snape one-shot!

Severus Snape is tired. So very tired. Tired of living this double life. Death Eater. The Order. Following Dumblerdor’s orders. Secretly protecting Harry. Funneling particular information to Voldemort for the sake of keeping up appearances. All while teaching potions. The vein in his temple throbs at the mere thought of his students. He doesn’t want to think about them now. He doesn't want to think about anything. All Severus Snape wants is to bury his face into a pillow. And that’s exactly his plan as he walks into his home and heads up the stairs towards his room... That is until he notices the piece of parchment stuck to the bedroom door. He’s immediately on high alert. Tension has his spine straight and his shoulders up by his ears. With his wand drawn, he creeps closer, ready to hex whatever intruder has managed to sneak into his home. But the signature at the bottom gives him pause. Why the hell was The Dark Lord leaving him handwritten notes? Dark eyes scan the entire letter. “To my most loyal Death Eater. I’ve left you a gift. A reward for all of your hard work. Use it however you wish and dispose of it when you’re done with it.” Severus raises a brow. It? What exactly was waiting for him on the other side of the door?

There was only one way to find out. With a heavy sigh, he pushes open the door, but what he finds stops him dead in his tracks. A woman sits kneeling on the floor beside his bed. Your head is bowed with your hands placed palms up atop your thighs. But the most shocking thing is that you’re completely naked except for a black and green garter belt on your right thigh. “What is the meaning of this?” he commands, still in a mild state of shock at the scene before him. You, however, do not stir, keeping your body still. “Hello, Master. It is a pleasure to meet you. How may I serve you tonight?” Your voice is warm…feminine…inviting. It draws Severus in and has him stepping into the room. But the closer he gets to you, the more your words sink in. “Forgive me…serve me?” You nod. “Yes, Master. I belong to you now. For as long as you want me.” The realization hits him like a bludger to the face. “You’re…my gift.” You nod again. “From the Dark Lord.” “And why would the Dark Lord send me a human as a gift?” The disgust in his voice isn’t directed at you, but you respond nonetheless. “To use as you see fit. I am yours and any desire my Master has is mine to fulfill.” He doesn’t know a single soul alive or dead who wouldn’t be tempted by such an offer. And though his heart had been lowered into the ground on the same day that Lily’s body was, he is still a man. A man with needs that he hasn’t even dreamt of allowing himself to feel. He’s standing directly in front of you now. “Look at me,” he commands You eagerly obey, and look up at him with large doe eyes. You stare at him with your gaze filled with willingness. He searches your eyes, attempting to find even an ounce of fear or disgust but finds nothing but devotion. As if you truly want nothing more than to serve.

His mouth goes dry and all of his body’s blood supply seems to be traveling south to his cock. This is wrong. Who knows what the Dark Lord had threatened you with…or where he had stolen you from. But everything about you screams submission. It awakens a darker side of himself. One that he hasn’t felt stirring since he was a young, newly appointed Death Eater. Back then Lucius Malfoy would hire girls and throw secret parties down in the dungeons below his estate. It was at these “parties” that Severus found his proclivity for knots…and magically binding girls to the ceiling so he could fuck them until they were begging to cum. It’s a time that he wishes he could scrub clean. Not only from his mind but from the history books of his life. Shame had accompanied him at those parties because he knew this was a part of him that he couldn’t share with Lilly. Even if James Potter had never been in the picture and Lilly had somehow been his. She was too lovely and sweet for that sort of depravity. She would have never enjoyed such things. And he would never— “Master?” Your voice pulls him from his thoughts, his eyes focusing back on you just as you reach out to take his hand. Your grip is so light, almost as if you’re worried your touch will offend him. “I want to please you. Want to give you whatever it is you need. Please? All I want is to be a good girl for you.” A good girl. His cock throbs. How you knew exactly what to say, baffles him. Perhaps you were a skilled Legilimens—allowing you a peek into his thoughts. Either way, you said the phrase that never failed to stop him in his tracks. He grips your hand more firmly and lets his other move to your cheek—to see if you’ll flinch at his touch. But, bloody hell, you lean into his palm and press your lips to the pad of his thumb. Never once averting your gaze. He lets out a breath that he wasn’t aware he was holding. You’re all his. “You said you’ll fulfill any request?” His thumb grazes over your bottom lip, opening it to reveal the tiniest bit of the inside of your mouth. “Anything,” you concur. His mind races with endless possibilities. He hasn’t tapped into this part of himself in years. It makes him antsy to claim you. But Severus Snape is not a rash man. He does not allow his emotions to make him sloppy. He is cunning and calculating. And more importantly, he knows exactly how he’ll have you prove yourself. He slides his foot forward, placing his black leather dress shoe in front of you. “Kiss it.” Immediately, you obey, positioning yourself on all fours before leaning down to press your lips to the tip. But you don’t stop there. In fact, you cover the entire top of his shoe with kisses. With each kiss, you let out a soft, sweet noise–as if this act of obedience is actually bringing you pleasure.

Severus lets out a rough command, “Don’t stop.” You don’t, lowering your upper body further onto the floor, but purposely keeping your hips in the air to showcase the curve of your ass. Your kisses turn to licks, making the top of his boot glisten with your spit. The sight of both almost makes him lose control. “Keep going,” he says through clenched teeth, feeling his cock pulsing within the constraints of his pants. You pull your torso off the floor, moving closer to him so you can start kissing and nuzzling your way up the length of his leg. Not once do you break eye contact. You look at him without fear, without disgust, without judgment.

It's an unusual occurrence for him. He’s used to his students being intimidated by the mere mention of his name. Even in his school days, he had never been known as a looker. But this is different. You are different. You look at him with reverence and lust while you continue your path up his leg. However, once you reach his groin, you stop and sit back on your heels. You return to your earlier position, with your feet tucked under you and your hands resting palms up atop your knees. You’re so submissive. It’s perfection. “You’re waiting for my command, aren’t you?” he asks, moving his hand to hover over the bulge in his pants.

Your eyes dart at the movement of his hand that’s now slowly rubbing his erection through his pants. You seem transfixed but still manage to reply.

“Yes, Master. I’m your property. My sole purpose is to please you.”

“My property?” he breathes, freeing his aching cock from his trousers.

He watches with satisfaction when your eyes widen at the sight of it.

You only nod, too busy watching as he starts to slowly stroke the shaft of his cock. He does this more to tease you than for his own pleasure. It clearly works because you fidget ever so slightly. “You’re my property,” he repeats, louder to refocus you. “My beautiful…little good girl.” Severus pants between words, stroking himself with a firmer grip.

“Yes, Master,” you moan with a lick of your lips. “I’m your good girl.”

“Then prove it by sucking your Master’s cock.”

You almost take him by surprise with how fast you rise onto your knees. Gently, you nudge his hand away before wrapping your own around the base of his cock. You hold eye contact with him while tracing your tongue over the veins in his shaft. “You taste so good,” you moan out and drag your tongue along the underside until you reach the tip. You clearly know what you’re doing. Severus swears his heart beats in time with the flicking of your tongue. Your hand and mouth work simultaneously—tugging firmly while playfully licking. That is until your hand falls away so you can swallow his cock whole. “Bloody hell,” he swears, involuntarily bucking his hips forward.

Pleased by his reaction, you hum and tighten your lips around him as you pick up your pace, bobbing your head up and down while sucking him off. He watches you intently. His dark brown eyes burn almost black as you suck him off like your life depended on it. “The good girl is enjoying this, isn’t she?” he hotly whispers, cock stiffening in your mouth. You nod with a mischievous twinkle in your eye. The sounds of you slurping and sucking with such passion sends Severus into a frenzy. His fingers twitch with the need to touch you. Your mouth is warm and so fucking inviting, like his cock was always meant to be there. He wants…no—needs more. No longer able to keep his hands to himself, Severus’ hand grips the back of your head. Long, nimble fingers tangle within the locks of your hair and start to move you up and down at just the right pace. Obeying his physical commands, you allow him to fuck your mouth while you drool all over him. So much so that he can feel saliva dripping onto his balls. Fuck you were messy. He loves it. Almost too much. But you’re looking at him with an affectionate gaze and it only makes him want more. Both of his hands grip onto your head, thrusting his hips forward so he could slam his cock into your throat. Your hands grab his thighs to try to hold yourself steady and not gag. “That’s it,” he grunts, “choke on your Master’s cock.” You groan with brows knitting together while saliva drips from the corner of your mouth. Severus would have thought he was being too rough if it wasn’t for your crumpled, pleasure-stricken face. He allows himself a moment to take you all in, wanting to commit you to his memory. So that when you’re gone, he’ll still have this image of you prettily sucking his cock. That’s when he notices you pressing your thighs together. Fire pools within his rib cage. You’re actually getting off on this. On pleasing him. On gagging on him. On obeying him. Suddenly, having you down on your knees isn’t enough. “Stand up,” he commands and forcefully pulls away, slipping his cock from your mouth. You take a moment to catch your breath and wipe the spit from your chin. Wanting to give you time to compose yourself, he keeps himself busy by stripping fully out of his clothing and casting a quick protection and contraceptive spell with a few flicks of his wand. By the time you’re on your feet, he’s standing before you naked. Your eyes run over his form and take a step forward with hands outstretched as if you want to touch. He doesn’t give you the chance. Instead, he places his hands on your shoulders and pushes you backward until your knees hit the side of his bed and you fall back onto the mattress with a surprised yelp. Your gaze shifts, looking at him towering over you with large eyes. He steps forward, nudging your knees apart with his leg. “Be a good girl and open wider for me.” Your knees fall apart, giving him a full view of your cunt.

“You’re so wet,” he breathes, in awe that you’re already dripping when he hasn’t so much as touched you. Calloused fingertips run up your inner thighs. The skin there is tender so you shiver until they make contact with your cunt and a chorus of sweet melodies leave your parted lips. You greedily grind into his touch, already wanting more. With a grin, he enjoys himself as he plays with you. He prods your opening and watches your eyelids flutter close. “What a needy cunt you have.” He means it as a compliment, but it’s laced with a snark that’s meant to embarrass you. It works, color flushing over your cheeks. “It’s your cunt now, Master. All of me is yours.” It’s clear that being owned is a massive turn-on for you. And if he’s honest, he’s more than happy to play this game. “That’s right,” he breathes, fingers tracing up towards your clit. “Every inch of you is mine. Including your clit.” He applies pressure to the sensitive bud, causing you to whine and twitch. You nearly come undone from how skillfully he draws circles on your clit. But every time you buck your hips forward, his fingers move away. “More Master. Please, give me more.” You whine and twitch, pleading sweetly. So sweetly that it’s impossible for him to continue teasing you. His fingers move to your entrance, and he plunges them inside your tightness. You cry out in surprise, both hands grabbing ahold of the arm pressed between your thighs. His fingers are long and thick, moving in and out in slick quick thrusts. He finger fucks you mercilessly and you love it.

You toss your head back, mouth falling open wide as you moan towards the ceiling.

Severus leans in, caging you beneath his body, and nuzzles his nose along the side of your face. His body is pressed against yours now and you gasp at the feeling of his hard cock leaking precum on your thigh. “Master…” you whimper, and he chuckles before whispering hotly into your ear. “This belongs to me as well. This tight dripping cunt is mine. Is that understood?” he asks while picking up the pace of his fingers. You struggle to respond, tripping over your words but he doesn’t relent—wanting you to work through the pleasure. “Y-Yes. Yes, Master! I-I understand.” He hums his praise, calling you a good girl before falling silent. For the next few minutes, the only sounds heard are the sounds of your desperate cries and the wet squelching sounds of your cunt. Your orgasm is drawing closer, threatening to take you over. “I…I’m going to–” But your words aren’t needed because Severus knows what a woman looks like before she’s about to cum. “I know, sweet thing,” he cuts you off, looking at you and holding eye contact. “But cumming for me is a privilege. One you must ask for.” You nod your head, gripping his arm tighter, “May I cum? Please let me cum for my Master?” With a proud grin, he says the three most glorious words. “Cum for me.” The permission is all you need, the cord inside you snapping.

Your body goes rigid and your ability to speak is replaced with breathy, unrestrained moans. Your orgasm hits you hard, but it’s only when you limply slump back onto the mattress that he carefully removes his fingers from you. They’re soaked in your juices. Severus suddenly finds himself very parched. You’re looking up at him with a flushed face and glossed-over eyes but are clearly too focused on catching your breath. So, he lets you watch as he brings his fingers to his mouth to suck them clean. You make a noise of surprise, mesmerized by his mouth. Satisfied with this small taste of you, he releases his fingers with a soft ‘pop’. “Mmmh, delicious.” “I’m glad Master thinks so. Thank you for letting me cum,” you murmur politely.

And just when he thought you couldn’t be any more perfect. Sitting beside you on the bed, he grabs your upper arms and hauls you towards him. He crashes his lips onto yours, forcing his tongue inside of your mouth. You return the kiss in a flurry of passion as your hands begin to roam freely over his body. Starting from his shoulder, you trail your hands down his bare chest to his hip bones. He moans into your mouth, enjoying the feeling of your soft hands and the way you gently suck at his tongue. Your hands continue downward until your fingertips brush against his still very hard cock. He breaks the kiss with a smirk. “Is there something you want, Little One?” You brush your lips against his with a nod. “I want to help my Master to cum.” He can already guess what you’re about to say, but still, Severus tucks a lock of hair behind your ear and whispers, “And how do you plan to do that?” “However you’d like me to.” Your answer is immediate but something tells him it isn’t the entire truth. His fingers grip your jaw, tilting it so you’re forced to maintain eye contact with him. “Tell me how you want to make your Master cum.” With wide eyes, the truth pours from your mouth like uncorked wine. “My cunt. Please use my cunt.” Your plea is so desperate that he doesn’t waste any more time leaning in closer until you have to shift your position to lay back on the bed. With a nudge to your thighs, your legs part to accommodate him as he places a hand beside your head, trapping you beneath him. He’s settled between your thighs now with his cock pressed against your core. You moan in unison at the contact. As if it’s painful for both of you to not have him buried inside.

Your hands run from his forearms, over his shoulders, and down his chest. “Take me, please. Let me feel my Master’s cock inside.”

He straightens his back and guides your legs to wrap around his waist fully. You continue to plead, but instead of giving you a verbal reply, he plunges balls deep inside of you. You both instantly tense. He, because of the tightness of your walls clinging around him, and you, because of the sudden intrusion of his cock demanding to be taken. “That’s it. Taking me so well,” he breathlessly praises, slowly moving out, then back in so you’d have time to adjust. Severus had always refused to inflict pain on his partners that they hadn’t consented to and begged for. And he isn’t about to start now. So he waits until he feels you relax.

Your head lulls to the side with a moan, feeling beyond stuffed full, but also whole.

You coo, arching into him. Severus knew he couldn’t keep his movements slow for much longer.

“Is this what you want? To be fucked until I own this cunt?” “Yes!” you whine, starting to grind your hips in an attempt to get his cock deeper. “I want my Master to ruin me for anyone else.” It’s the word ruin that does him in. Unable to wait any longer he slams into you. You yelp, grabbing ahold of his forearms and sinking your nails into his flesh. The slight bite of pain only spurs him on, his pace anything but slow. The rough and steady rhythm of his thrusts has you already clenching around him.

He isn’t sure where to look. At your beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure, or at your cunt that’s currently swallowing him whole. You toss your head back, slightly obscuring you from his view. So he settles his gaze downward–watching how his cock glistens from your juices every time he pulls out. It’s an intoxicating sight.

One that threatens to force him to spill himself inside of you. But he won’t. Not yet. Not until he’s done enjoying you for a bit longer. Not until he can make you cum again. He grabs some of your hair and tugs so you’re forced to look back at him. “You love this, don’t you? Using your cunt to please me?” Your legs wrap even tighter around his waist, drawing closer…deeper. “Yes, Master! Feels so good pleasing you!” Pressure builds in your lower belly from the orgasm that’s steadily approaching. It feels like he’s everywhere. In you. On you. All over you. “M-Master I—so close. P-Please.”

You’re struggling to form words but he already knows what you’re trying to say. He reaches between your bodies to your clit and rubs it, strokes it, and draws circles on it until he finds the touch that has you babbling in broken, indecipherable sentences.

“I want you to cum,” he speaks in labored breaths, teasing your clit while still spearing you on his length. “I want you to cum for me now.”

For a moment, you fall completely silent, but then it hits. The unfiltered, beautiful howls that accompany your climax. All the while, your inner walls close around him in the most delicious way. He curses, lurching forward as you gush and spasm around him. It’s too much, and he’s quickly following you over the edge, filling you with his cum. You both tremble through your aftershocks, unable to detangle from one another while coming down from your highs. He feels like a new man after cumming for the first time in God knows how long. But one look at you and your sleep-heavy eyes has him focusing on steadying his breathing faster. Memories from his past return to him, and words like aftercare play through his mind. It displeases him that he doesn’t know what you require right now—space or intimacy? Deciding it’s best to take the middle ground, he slowly slips out of you but sits on the edge of the bed beside you. He takes the utmost care not to jostle you but you don’t seem to notice because you’ve already turned onto your side facing him. You make yourself comfortable, curling up with your eyes closed and a relaxed smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Relieved, he lets out a breath and runs his hand through his dark locks to move it off his face. “That felt amazing. Thank you, Master,” you mumble happily into his pillow. “Call me Severus.” “As you wish, Master Severus.” A spark of warmth emanates from his chest. He likes the way you say his name. It makes him feel things. He reaches for you, tugging you into his arms to help you sit up. At first, you whine, but relax when he pulls you to sit between his thighs and leans you against his chest. He holds you close and whispers, “Will you tell me your name?” You peek up at him with a smile and say it. He repeats it, liking the way your name rolls off his tongue. You nod, your smile widening across your face. He can’t stop himself from stroking your cheek. “I’ll be right back.” He stands, making his way over to his wardrobe. “Get yourself ready for bed, Little One.” He calls from over his shoulder as he uses his wand for a simple cleansing spell. Since you’ve managed to coat even his balls in your slick.

Afterward, he slips on a pair of black silk pajama pants. He’s about to put a shirt on when he turns back to you, expecting to find you dressed, but instead, he finds you sitting on his bed and watching him. “Where are your night robes?” You fidget uncomfortably, looking away. Severus should have known this wouldn’t last. He tries to disguise his disappointment but fails. “If you don’t wish to stay, then just say so.” The ice in his voice is evident and you snap your head up in his direction. “I-It’s not that!” you protest. “I want to stay. I just…don’t have any clothes.” His frown deepens, “The Dark Lord didn’t leave your clothes here for you?” You shake your head ‘no’. This only confuses him further. To have you waiting for him nude was clearly meant to entice him, but to leave you with nothing to wear after doesn’t make sense. “No personal belongings at all? I don’t understand how he expected you to get home after this.” You flinch, once again looking away. “He said…” you trail off. “Never mind, Master.” He didn’t need spells or potions to see the discomfort radiating off of you. With the long-sleeved shirt he had intended for himself in hand, he makes his way over to you. Of course, he could have simply conjured you some clothing, but if he’s being honest with himself— He wants you wrapped up in him for a while longer. “Arms up.”

You lift your head and see the shirt in his hands. You obey, and he slips the shirt over your head to help you dress. “It’s a tad big on you, but it will do until morning.” You pull your knees to your chest while muttering a ‘thank you’. There’s still something bothering you and Severus is determined to figure out what it is. “Look at me,” he commands, knowing you’ll obey. When you do, he continues, “Tell your Master what’s bothering you.” Perhaps it isn’t right for him to pull the ‘dom’ card when you aren’t technically his submissive, but he needs the truth. You stall for a little longer, gnawing on your bottom lip until you finally respond, “The Dark Lord told me that I didn’t need to pack any of my things because he didn’t believe you’d want me after you were through with me.” “I see…What else did the Dark Lord tell you?”

“That I belong to whoever comes into the room, and that I was to serve them until they no longer had use for me. Which he predicted would be just for tonight…Then he–” You falter, bravery abandoning you. He lets out a breath, resisting the urge to scrub at his eyes. Of course, he had threatened you. Placing a finger underneath your chin, he gently raises it. Your eyes flutter, struggling to meet his gaze. “You’re afraid of him, aren’t you?” You only nod. “You have my word that you’re under my protection now. Do you understand?” You nod again and summon your bravery so you can continue. “Then he said that maybe he would pass me around to the other Death Eaters or maybe he’d use me himself.” Severus can’t explain the jealousy that boils within him. But it’s there. Hot and nauseating. Suddenly, he can’t bear the thought of another having you. Not Voldemort. Not anyone. “No one is allowed to touch what’s mine.” The threat of his words hangs in the air, but you look relieved. “You…You mean you’ll keep me here with you?” He hadn’t realized he had said that aloud. Honestly, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. All he knew was that the only hands he wanted on you were his. “Is that…something you’d want?” You smile bright, brighter than the summer’s sun. “Nothing would make me happier, Master.” As beautiful as you are, and as lovely as it sounds to have a warm cunt to bury himself in each night, the cold blade of reality cuts through. “Listen to me, there are still many things we’ll need to discuss—”But you aren’t listening because you’re too busy crawling into his lap. You straddle him and nuzzle your face into the side of his neck.

“Thank you, Severus,” you whisper against his skin, melting against his body as you make yourself comfortable.

No one has ever thanked him in his entire life. He isn’t sure how to handle it.

The longer you lay against him, the more a warmth blooms inside his breastbone.

He can’t deny how good it feels to have you close.

Things can’t be this simple can they?

Nothing in his life had ever been simple.

You let out a small sigh, seemingly starting to fall asleep while sitting up. It tears him from his thoughts and instead has him worried about your comfort. He shifts and lays down on the bed with you still tucked into his chest.

He had no way of knowing if this would work, but bloody hell did you fit perfectly against him.

Years of tension seemingly start to melt away as sleep threatens to take him over.

Voldemort had given you to him for being his most loyal Death Eater.

And while nothing could be further from the truth, Severus Snape can’t help but think.

This was the best damn present he’d ever received.

#lady in writing #Severus Snape #severus x reader #severus snape smut #snape fandom #professor snape #alan rickman

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hangesfavles · 7 months ago

Text

Nerd Hange headcanons

4.1k words. AFAB NB loser! hange x bimbo (ish)! fem reader. <3

Summary: Hange is more of a socially inept lesbian redditor gamer nerd rather than a normal ‘i’m smart’ dweeb :). These are general hcs of how you met loser/streamer Hange, things they like and relationship dynamics including you secretly eating them out on stream. <3

A/N: this is my first ever attempt at nsfw so i’m sorry if it’s bad or nondescript! also i know both of my fics so far have been for afab reader, but going forward i plan to write for a genny nootch reader just because i find it to be inclusive to wider groups of hange lovers <3 lol and last time i posted i said i never wrote fanfiction before but that was a tiny fib because i wrote shitty dumpster fire fanfics in middle school, but i’ve /srsly never tried my hand at nsfw before, but i guess there's a first for everything. pls critique me if u have any thoughts but be nice i’m sensitive. also shoutout to @abbyslev for helping me brainstorm <3 if ur reading my fanfics u probably already do, but pleaaaase follow her if u dont she’s lovely!!!! :3

Warnings: Nsfw content under my 2nd divider, sort of exhibitionism and masturbation. Not all of this is nsfw, but I’d still like for MINORS TO DNI. However, I know that you guys like to ignore those warnings, so I bolded the nsfw sections. At the very least, please don’t read the bolded hcs. Thank you & enjoy reading!

❥Loser! Hange who is in the same math course as you. When you walk in on the first day, you’re drawn to them, but not for the reasons you’d initially think. You were almost positive that they would be a decent person to cheat off of. I mean, they seem to look like they know what they’re doing, right?

❥Loser! Hange that can hear their pulse in their ears when they see a pretty girl take the spot beside them. They feel their heart rattling around in their chest as they sneak glances at you whenever they get the chance.

❥Loser! Hange quickly figures out the reason why you decided to sit next to them, rather than the other isolated chairs inside the lecture hall. But don’t worry, of course they’ll let you cheat off of them. Unfortunately, their performance starts to dip a little when they realize what you’re doing. They’re frequently under your gaze, and they can’t help it that you make them nervous :c

❥Loser! Hange that is unaware that your eyes aren’t only looking down at their answers. One class when you were copying off of them, you started noticing the way their fingers hold their pencil. How slender their digits are, that their nails are surprisingly short, neat and cleaner than expected. You also started to notice how their veins protrude slightly and move up their arm... You feel yourself biting your lip as you observe their side profile. Their cheeks look soft and pink, similarly to their kissable lips. Your eyes continue to trail over their face: their thin, ovular glasses are slightly pushed down on their hooked nose, and their long eyelashes flutter as they continue to take notes beside you.

❥Loser! Hange can’t not listen to you getting called out by the professor when they notice you copying off of your seatmates’ assignments and notes. It was rather embarrassing, but you’re just happy the professor didn’t catch you cheating on an exam and risking academic misconduct.

❥Loser! Hange nudges your arm lightly after that incident, their voice low so you both don’t get caught by the professor. "Hey, um... I've noticed you've been using my notes and uh... answers. Do you need any help with the material? I mean, like, we could study together or something! If you want." They ask you with an excitement in their eyes and voice.

❥Loser! Hange can’t even feel proud of the fact they managed to talk to you because they barely even got that sentence out, and they couldn’t look you in the eye for more than 2 seconds. But it seems like all that is forgotten when you actually agree to meet up with them. They feel a rush of giddiness, but they try not to make a fool of themself in front of you. “Right! Yeah, so here’s my number... We can plan something, er- sometime.” They write their number down, sliding you the ripped end of their notebook page.

❥Loser! Hange who feels their heart in their throat as they lead you into their bedroom. The study session started off a bit rocky and awkwardly, but the tension in the air decreased as time continued on. As much as you would like to actually learn this material to earn good grades, you find yourself wanting to earn their attention much, much more. I mean, you obviously wore your lowest cut shirt and a pleated skirt for a reason. You look up at them, calling out for them. “Hey, Hange?” You ask, smiling as their head shoots up from their notes. “Can you explain this question to me?” You ask quietly, turning around your notebook to face them. You lean closer to them, purposely displaying your breasts for them to (hopefully) ogle.

❥Loser! Hange who starts to feel like they’re being tested by a higher power. They have to physically stop themself from glancing down and making a fool of themself. They try their best to focus on explaining the math problem to you as you watch their every movement like a hawk. You notice their eyes fall on your chest for a split second, and you pounce on your opportunity to tease them further. You reach up to their face, flicking their nose up so they’re forced to look at you. “My eyes are up here, silly.” “I- Uh- Sorry, just-” Hange trips over their words as they try to formulate a cohesive sentence on the spot. “Don’t worry about it, I’m just teasin’. It’s not so bad to be stared at if it's you.” You say with a playful wink.

❥Loser! Hange folds immediately. “O-Oh... Me? Really?” They ask, their eyes widening and pupils dilating. You can’t help but chuckle at their disbelief and nod your head in confirmation. “Yes, you. Is there anybody else in the room with us?” You joke. They stumble over their words as they think of a response. “W-Well, no, there isn’t, but- y’know- I didn’t think you-” They stutter, pushing the notebook aside and gesturing their hands between the two of you. They feel their cheeks growing warmer from embarrassment as they struggle to coherently voice their jumbled thoughts. “You know, you should at least take me to dinner before looking at me like that.”

❥Loser! Hange doesn’t need to be told twice. They grab your hand with a cheesy smile, practically dragging you to their car while suggesting all sorts of restaurants that you might agree to. “Is there a certain restaurant you had in mind? We can try something totally different, like a little hole-in-the-wall joint. Ooh, but picture this: hibachi. The whole watching people cook in front of me thing usually makes me feel awkward but the food is always soooo good. Oh, or maybe we could go to a steakhouse! No matter what you choose, I’ll be fine with whatever! What do you think?" GOD they are just so excited and you find it utterly adorable. They remained true to their word and took you to whichever place you decided and paid for both of your meals. (They would have done this even if you didn’t joke about it bless their heart.) But then that first date turned into 2 dates, which quickly became 3, 4, 5, then suddenly you both forgot because anything the two of you do together is a date in your minds.

❥Loser! Hange definitely asks you out after only the second date. But in their defense, you’ve been hanging out after class as well as coming over to their house for “study sessions” that alway turned into watching tv or movies, ordering ubereats, going to the movies, walking around their neighborhood, anything but studying. You even took them to a party once. (You guys left after a half hour because Hange got overwhelmed, but you were still happy they tried something for you.) So by the time you guys went on your second “official date” they definitely felt confident that you would say yes.

❥Loser! Hange who loves talking to you about whatever game they’re playing. If it’s a story game, they’d love to explain anything you missed or don’t understand. They also would voice their predictions about how the game will end or where the story will go. If they see something predictable, they’ll definitely tell you what they think will happen, trying to impress you so when/if it does they’ll look “cool” to you. In reality though, you just find them to be geeky in the most endearing way. “Look, there’s a bunch of ammo in this room. If there’s a boss behind this door, you have to give me a kiss.” They say to you with a sly grin on their face. If it’s a PVP game, they will explain everything about what skills and powers each character has and who their favorite to play is. They’ll talk about what they like and dislike about the different mechanics, their favorite characters, parts they find tricky, etc. And of course, you sit there with a dopey smile while you listen to their rambling without interrupting, even if you don’t understand a word of what they’re saying because they’re just too cute when they’re passionately rambling.

❥Loser! Hange who loves inviting you over, even if you two are doing absolutely nothing. They adore when you watch them play all sorts of video games. If they’re playing a console game, Hange lays next to you with your head against their shoulder, your arm splaying across their stomach while your hand rests around their waist. You tend to get pretty invested if the game is story based, insisting that they can’t play it without you around to watch the next part of the story unfold. If they’re playing a PC game, you’re sitting in their lap with a skirt that does absolutely nothing to cover your body once you’re seated on top of them. You prefer to face away from them, occasionally squirming in their lap so they can feel your ass pressed against their thighs and stomach. However, you do occasionally enjoy facing them, your arms wrapped around their shoulders as your legs hang off of their gaming chair at either side of their body.

❥Loser! Hange who also loves when you’re sitting in their lap, even if they struggle to focus on the game in front of them when your warm body is pressed against their own. It doesn’t help that they can smell the perfume coming from your neck, tempting them to lean in and kiss you there.

❥Loser! Hange that can’t resist the urge to rest their hands on your thighs during a cutscene, between rounds, during any sort of loading screen or when they’re respawning. They’ll use your thighs to push your ass back and closer to their body.

❥Loser! Hange kisses your neck from behind, causing you to tilt your head and expose more of your neck for them to kiss. You let out a chuckle at how you effortlessly turned them on just by sitting on their lap and looking pretty.

❥Let’s just say... Loser! Hange finds the opportunity to quit or pause the game as soon as they can. When they eventually return to whatever game they were playing, they find it much easier to focus after you’re both satisfied. ♡

❥Loser! Hange who is also a small streamer! They probably get a few hundred people to watch them game each stream. They may not have a huge community, but their fans are consistent, funny, and always welcoming to new viewers! It’s a comforting little community. Because of this, Hange responds to their chat quite a bit and they’ve made quite a few friends with their mods and regular viewers.

❥Loser! Hange had to explain to you what streaming was. They decided that they would show you what it's like by doing a short stream while you silently watch them game and listen to them talk with their viewers.

❥Loser! Hange never technically introduced you to their fans. Not because they didn’t want to, they just knew that the internet wasn’t always kind, even if their fans are 99% supportive. They wouldn’t mention it much, but they are a little insecure about themself. They know that they treat you like an absolute princess, and they know that you adore them, that’s not the problem. The problem is that they don’t know if they’ll ever feel deserving of you.

❥Loser! Hange only mentions this to you at late hours of the night when they feel vulnerable and slightly sleepy. You spend countless late nights at sleepovers holding them in your arms and reassuring them just how attractive you find them and that no one has treated you better. They start to feel reassured more once you mention to them that you don’t feel deserving of the endless love they give or of the many ways they spoil you.

anyway back to streamer hcs

❥Loser! Hange didn’t expect you to surprise them one day in their room with their favorite takeout in the middle of a stream. You didn’t know that they were streaming and you wanted to sneak up on them and scare them >:). You slip into their room as quietly as possible, slowly tiptoeing to their form slouched over their desk. Because of the slight delay of their videocam to their viewers, Hange doesn’t get the chance to read all of the different messages of the chatters who spotted your presence and are questioning about it. You silently place the bag of food on the floor, wrapping your arms around their shoulders and kissing their cheek roughly.

❥Loser! Hange practically jumps out of their chair, yelping from the shock. They realize that it’s you pretty quickly, because no one else would hold or kiss them like that. They pause their game, swiveling around to face you with a wide smile. “Hi, baby!! What are you doin’ here?”

❥Loser! Hange immediately forgets the world around them, forgetting they’re literally live as they try to grab at your hips while they talk to you. “Mmmm,” You hum and giggle. “I just wanted to surprise you. It’s been a few days, I missed you.” You mumble before stepping back so that their hands disconnect from your waist. “Let me get some plates and napkins real quick.” You tell them before you leave the room again.

❥Loser! Hange remembers that they’re streaming, facing their viewers again to read what they missed from chat. “Chat, what do you mean ‘how did you bag a baddie?’” They say, reading some of the messages out loud. “‘How come Hange can get a girlfriend and I can’t? Life isn’t fair-’ WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?” They cut themself off, their jaw dropping a little from the comments they read. The chat starts to go crazy after seeing you. Most of the messages are asking who you are, if Hange is dating you, or simply encouraging Hange to stream with you sometime officially. But of course, it’s much easier to take note of bad comments people say rather than nice ones.

❥Loser! Hange pouts when you return with plates in hand, ignoring their chat again in the blink of an eye. "I'm charming, right? and cute?” They look up at you with puppy eyes as you stand in front of them. “I'm desirable." They say those words like a statement, but it sounds like they’re trying to convince themself rather than state a fact. You hear the insecurities dripping from their tone. You promptly climb into their lap, placing a tender kiss to their cheek while your hand cups the opposite one. You progressively start kissing all over their face, and they close their eyes, giggling and getting lost in the moment. When you eventually begin moving down their neck, their eyes snap open as they remember the audience. "AAAAHHHH, I'M LIVE, I'M LIVE!" They warn you frantically, suddenly remembering again why they were a bit insecure in the first place. This causes you to jump a bit from their yelling. They swivel their chair around to face the monitor, looking at it from over your shoulder. "S-Sorry chat, ending stream a bit early today..." They say quickly, turning off their game and switching tabs to end their video. You chuckle, turning to face their camera. "Oops." you say only a few seconds before they end their stream.

❥Loser! Hange decides that they might as well officially introduce you after that incident, since they know they’ll be getting teased for it for the next few streams.

❥Loser! Hange never thought that they would be in this situation with anyone, no less you. This exact scenario had been nothing but a fantasy in the corners of their mind. A fantasy that would fog up their mind in the late hours of the night, prompting them to slip their fingers under their boxers and lightly circle their clit with their fingertips, eventually slipping them inside of their warm body. Their back would arch up off of the bed, trying their best to picture that their own fingers were instead yours.

❥Loser! Hange that noticed a sort of glint in your eyes when they asked if it was okay to stream while the two of you were still hanging out. They hadn’t been active in the past handful of days because they’ve been spending all their time with you. They just can’t deny you, especially when you both want to spend all your time with the other.

❥Loser! Hange who has to resist the urge to drool as you carefully and quietly crawl under their desk, looking up at them through your long, mascara coated eyelashes as your knees hit the slightly dusty floor...

❥You aren’t sure what came over you, but when you were watching them put their headphones on and start welcoming people into their stream, you missed the attention being on you. So decided to tease and torture them and force them to give you attention still.

❥Loser! Hange is forced to pretend you aren’t under their desk and spreading their thighs and pulling down their boxers while giving them that signature sultry smile with your matching lustful look in your eye. You bite your lip as you part their legs, moving in closer to their folds. They can feel your hot breath on their legs as you kiss, lick, and bite the plush skin of their inner thighs. For a few moments, you feel their hand rest on top of your head and stroke your hair approvingly as you start to rile them up. They can feel their face heating up a little, but if anyone in chat mentions it they just explain that their AC isn’t working properly. Even from just your breath and kisses teasing their thighs, they can feel themself getting wet, the stickiness spreading around their groin.

❥Loser! Hange melts under your touches, but they quickly become needy and desperate for more. Their resolve is always weak when it comes to you, and your teasing will be the death of them. They’re trying so hard not to whine and plead because they have to act normal and play their game. Even when your tongue finally reaches out to meet their pussy, you keep teasing them. You give them as little as you possibly can, spreading their folds with the tip of your tongue, only occasionally flicking up to their clit. You also kiss their puffy pussy lips and their clit, showing how much you love them while simultaneously subjecting them to such sweet torture. When they feel your tongue finally giving them what they wanted, their legs start to twitch slightly from the stimulation. They try their best to regulate their breathing so nothing seems out of the ordinary.

❥Loser! Hange doesn’t know how to act when your mouth starts to move faster and faster between their legs. They’ve stopped looking at their chat entirely, just trying to focus on playing the game somewhat coherently and occasionally talking about it or making a random comment without stuttering or sighing from pleasure.

❥Loser! Hange’s pussy is dripping onto their chair from all of your teasing. The combination of your tongue and their pussy makes an audible squelch as you suck, kiss, and lick up their slit and their hips move slightly, trying to keep up with the rhythm of your tongue. At this point, they’re starting to feel the knot in their stomach tighten, and they’re struggling to hold back their sounds. “Chat, I’ve gotta use the bathroom real quick-” They say, closing their webcam and muting their mic as fast as their fingers let them.

❥Loser! Hange’s hand finds its way back to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pushing you as close to them as biology allows. Their head falls back as they let out a shaky moan. “Ahhh.. F-Fuckk... Please, please more.” They whine, encouraging you to eat them out without fear. You can both feel how their pussy throbs with desire for attention. They’ve been impatiently craving this, so they plan to take full advantage of the fact you’re right where they want you. You pick up the pace, sloppily making out with their pussy and sucking their labia between your lips. They toss one of their legs up onto your shoulder, allowing you more access to them as the knot in their core is almost ready to release. You look up into their eyes, slurping up their juices. The way you look up at them with devotion makes them feel even better due to how much desire is in your expression, adding another layer of eroticism for them from your enjoyment.

❥Loser! Hange feels the tension in their lower stomach releasing. They sigh and moan out into the air lightly as they feel white hot pleasure take their entire mind and body. They arch themself off the chair, trying to meet your mouth even more than already possible. Their body grinds against your tongue as they shiver from the intensity of their orgasm.

❥Immediately after their orgasm subsides, loser! Hange pulls your head up by your hair, kissing you deeply and not caring that they can taste their sticky cum on your plump lips. Their free hand slides down to the back of your thigh, guiding your body to sit on their lap. Their hands are protective and possessive while you make out. They are such a softie, always wanting to cuddle, hug, and kiss after sex. They love you so much and need to let it show, it’s like a warm blanket of warmth and affection covers their heart. They see the world with rose colored glasses for an hour or two after you make them cum, honestly.

❥Loser! Hange holds you for a little while, their face nuzzled against your neck as they whisper sweet nothings to you. They’ll pepper your neck, collarbones, and face with kisses while telling you how good you made them feel. “I- love- you- so- much- sweet- heart- thank- you-” They’d say between pecks to your skin, causing you to giggle from the slight tickle of their lips moving around your upper body. They only stop their barrage of kisses when you start to push at their shoulders playfully, begging them to stop. “I love youuuu!” They say in a drawn out tone, giving your body a tight squeeze. “But duty calls, so we'll have to continue this later. Don't worry, I'll be thinking about you the whole time!"

❥Loser! Hange loves aftercare, giving and receiving, basically. They’re happy as long as you’re physically close to them <//3.

❥Loser! Hange also used to have inappropriate thoughts about you before you two were officially dating. They knew it was a bit weird to do so without you having any knowledge of it, but they couldn’t help themself. The two of you had exchanged Instagrams after your very first study session and since then, they can’t help but fuck their fingers to your posts. They try to refrain from doing so each time; they attempt to scroll past your stories as if the sight of your face hadn’t already turned them on. Each time it always ends the same, inevitably retyping your name in the search bar to revisit the photo. At this point it had to be some sort of conditioning, the way their body would react to you like clockwork. But they still feel so embarrassed to be so obsessed with you simply because you gave them an ounce of attention.

❥Loser! Hange used to imagine you in all sorts of different positions for them. You name it, they’ve probably thought about it once or maybe even twice. Sometimes they would imagine you sitting on their face, other times they could imagine you under them as they would fuck their strap into you. When Hange feels extra desperate, they like to picture the ways you would take them, perhaps you would trap them against the bed, fingering their throbbing pussy while making out with them to ensure that they weren’t too loud. A favorite daydream of theirs surrounds the different types of faces you would make as they eat you out. They yearn to see how your eyes might look down at them, pleading for them to make you cum, or how they may be shut entirely, your lips parted to sigh out with pleasure from how good they’re making you feel. They’d wonder what kind of sounds you would make. Were you loud? Quiet? Shy? Breathy? Are you the type that moans, or are you the type that whimpers? These questions had plagued their mind until they finally had you for the first time after 4-5 dates. <3

i miss hange rip hange you would’ve loved being the most nerdy loser dork the geek world ever saw.

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