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gubsbuubs · 4 months

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Friendly Cupid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~ 5K

Warnings/Tags: Fluff, slow burn? smut, creampie.

Summary: Despite their closeness, Y/N and Spencer's relationship always stayed within the bounds of friendship. That's until a very fateful Valentine's Day, when a friend decided to play cupid.

A/N: Hi my loves! The "Friends to Lovers" trope won the poll, thanks to your votes. Any thoughts or suggestions for what's next? I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒

My requests are open!

English is not my first language.

The team basked in a mix of exhaustion and accomplishment as we settled into our seats on the jet, heading back home after successfully closing another case. The subtle hum of the engines seemed to echo the collective satisfaction that enveloped us.

We had just finished a case where the unsub targeted individuals with a deep passion for books. Each victim was chosen based on their preference for a particular literary work. The killer orchestrated scenarios inspired by famous novels, challenging us to decipher the connections between the crime scenes and the literary references.

From my seat across from his, at the meeting table in the Nevada police department's, I observed Spencer in awe. His deep concentration, the way his fingers danced over the pages, and the thoughtful furrow of his brow—he looked so handsome, absorbed in the task of perusing a pile of books that would have taken me at least two years to read.

I cherished watching Spencer at work; his intellect, passion, and dedication were captivating. There was an undeniable admiration that had grown within me as we spent countless hours in shared pursuit of justice.

I vividly recall the first time our connection became something more. After a grueling case left him drained, slowly succumbing to fatigue, his head found refuge on my shoulder during the flight back. It was an unexpectedly intimate encounter—his tousled hair brushing against my neck and the faint scent of lemon shampoo lingering close to my nose. Though innocent, the closeness left an indelible mark, and often I think about the weight of his head resting against me.

Fast forward to another sweet moment; it was forever engraved in my mind when I first noticed that he cared for me. Spencer and I were staked out in a park that an unsub used to frequent in Boston. The autumn winds whispered through the colorful foliage, and the chilling breeze made my arms shiver. It was getting cold, and I scolded myself for not bringing my jacket. Spencer, ever observant, noticed how I hugged myself for warmth and asked, "Hey, are you cold?"

"What? No, it's just a bit chilly, but I can take it," I chuckled, my teeth almost clacking against each other as I shivered.

"I can clearly see you're cold, Y/N."

"Okay, fine. I may be a little bit cold; we left in a hurry, and I forgot my jacket," I admitted.

Without hesitation, he took off his FBI jacket and handed it to me. "No, Spencer, I can't accept this. If it's cold for me, it will be cold for you too," I protested.

"Compared to men, women have less muscle, which is a natural heat producer. They also have 6 to 11 percent more body fat than men, which keeps the inner organs toasty but blocks the flow of blood carrying heat to the skin and extremities." He started to ramble while holding the jacket in front of me.

So I gave up, not wanting to hear him talk about this for the rest of the night, and accepted his offer. As the jacket touched my body, I could still feel his warmth, and the scent of his perfume enveloped me. His tall stature made the jacket too big for me, and I struggled with the oversized jacket's zipper. Looking down as I tried to zip it, I felt his hand on mine. "Hey, come here! Let me help you." I looked up to meet his beautiful brown eyes as he held his gaze on mine. His gentle hands zipped up the jacket. "There you go; now you'll feel warm," he added with a sweet smile.

We had a connection—an undeniable force drawing us together. For example, with Spencer and I, the casual "sorry, Y/n, passing through" was never just a phrase; it accompanied the gentle press of his hand on my side.

When shared laughter ensued, it almost always led to a playful nudge against my shoulder, a light and affectionate gesture.

And there were times when Spencer would reach out with a reassuring touch on my arm during tense discussions or a challenging moment. His fingertips, feather-light yet grounding, conveyed a silent reassurance that we were in this together.

I’d like to think that our connection extended beyond the realm of solving cases and catching serial killers, finding roots in those quiet spaces between words, because unspoken sentiments resonated louder than any conversation we had.

These simple and innocent touches left me curious, especially considering Spencer's general aversion to physical contact, often sidestepping handshakes. Each touch, though understated, carried a significance that lingered, prompting me to ponder the depths of our friendship.

Yet, somehow, we were never more than friends. Perhaps because of the lingering fear of disrupting the delicate balance we had, I hesitated to act upon the emotions that quietly blossomed within.

So, Spencer and I stayed comfortably within the boundaries of friendship, keeping the unexplored depths of our connection confined to the realm of what-ifs and maybes.

Rather than risking it all, I chose the simplicity of silent observation and opted for the quiet intimacy of just watching him while he worked. There was an unspoken fascination with witnessing Spencer's mind at play.

The breakthrough came when Spencer uncovered a pattern in the victims' book preferences, his face lighting up at the realization. The Unsub, it seemed, orchestrated his killings based on the ominous narratives found within these chosen novels. Each victim unwittingly acquired a literary prelude to their tragic end as the killer turned the pages of their lives into a haunting script of their own demise.

With this knowledge, we were able to predict the next target and swoop in just in time to prevent another tragedy. The final confrontation took place in an abandoned library, where the unsub attempted to stage his twisted interpretation of a tragic love story. With swift and coordinated action, we thwarted his plans and brought justice to the victims.

So, with the unsub's twisted plans foiled, we found solace in the fact that we had saved the couple from his dark intentions.

Amidst the chatter on the jet, the mood shifted to a more relaxed and celebratory tone. The weight of the case had dissipated, replaced by a comforting conversation and shared laughter.

"Hey, Prentiss, any hot plans for Valentine's Day? Morgan teased, giving Emily a mischievous grin.

"Valentine's Day? Seriously, Morgan? After all the chaos of this week, I just want a quiet night with a good bottle of wine," Emily responded, leaning further into her seat.

"Valentine's Day is this weekend, and I completely forgot! Will and I will have to just stay at home," JJ confessed, sounding a bit bummed.

"Well, Beth and I will be taking Jack to the cinema to watch a movie. Would you like us to also take Henry so you and Will can have a date?" Hotch offered.

"Oh, Hotch, that’s very sweet. If you don't mind, yes! We would really appreciate it," JJ replied gratefully.

"What about you, pretty boy? Got any plans?" Morgan playfully mussed up Spencer's hair.

"Well… I…” He cleared his throat. "I, um… I actually do have a date," Spencer stammered, his face immediately turning a bright shade of red.

"A date, Reid? Come on, spill the details. What's her name?" Morgan proceeded to probe.

“It's a blind date, so I'd rather not jinx it by talking about it.” Spencer spoke with a faint smile.

As I learned about Spencer's date, I couldn't help but laugh to myself at the sheer coincidence—both of us had blind dates on Valentine's Day. What were the odds?

Then it hit me, and as much as I tried to dismiss it, there was a subtle pang of envy that Spencer also had a date. I understood the irony of feeling jealous while I was also going on a blind date this weekend.

Earlier that week, my friend from the previous division I worked in—International Affairs and Counterterrorism—set me up with a guy. According to him, this guy was perfect for me—smart, kind, and seemingly attuned to my taste. So, I've decided to give it a shot and go on this date. It was Valentine's Day after all. So yes, I was also going on a date, and I acknowledged how contradictory it sounded to feel envious of Spencer's date. Nevertheless, a twinge of jealousy lingered.

Yet, in the grand scheme, I genuinely wished for Spencer to have a fantastic time this weekend. After all, we were nothing more than friends, and his happiness was something I truly valued.

Morgan, with a playful glint in his eye, turned his attention to me and chimed, "Alright, Reid's stepping into the world of romance, so what's the deal, Y/N? Any Valentine's plans on your agenda?"

"No, I don't really have plans. It'll be a normal weekend for me." I spoke with a smile, gently sidestepping Morgan's inquiry. I preferred to keep certain aspects of my life private, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

Saturday night came around pretty quickly.

I chose a simple red dress and black stilettos for the occasion—it was Valentine's Day, after all, and opportunities for dates were not a frequent occurrence for me. Since joining the FBI, I haven't had many opportunities to look like this. Typically reserved for pantsuits and white shirts, it was refreshing to see myself look so put-together.

What awaited me on this evening could be a mistake or, just maybe, the start of something unexpectedly wonderful. Despite the flutter of reservations in my stomach, I resolved to push through the uncertainty.

Before stepping inside, I paused at the entrance, reminding myself to take a deep breath; it was just a date after all—no need to be nervous. The restaurant, my absolute favorite, bore the name "Bella Luna," renowned for its delectable pastas. It had become my go-to spot for a delightful meal, offering a perfect blend of cozy ambiance and culinary excellence.

My friend, the mastermind behind this blind date, had given the gentleman a specific directive: reserve the table with a view of the river—my favorite spot in the house. This strategic move not only catered to my preferences but also had the practical benefit of simplifying the identification of my date.

As I stood by the entrance, lost in my thoughts, I almost jumped, caught by surprise, as someone bumped into me. "Hey, where were you goi..."

“Y/N! Hi!” His eyes were widening with surprise as he recognized me.

“Spencer! Hi! I didn't expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same thing. Didn’t you say you didn’t have plans?” He asked in an inquisitive tone.

"Yeah!" I laughed nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I, uh, decided to give in to the Valentine's Day spirit, I suppose." Spencer chuckled softly, his warm demeanor putting me at ease.

"How are you anyway, feeling good about your blind date?" I inquired, genuinely curious about his well-being.

"To be honest," he admitted, "I'm actually kind of nervous."

"What? Why?"

He hesitated before sharing, "What if she doesn't like me?"

"Why wouldn't she like you?" The words left my mouth so fast, a testament to my incomprehension of how someone could not like the guy standing before me.

"Because I'm weird. I slouch; my hair's too long; my tie's perpetually crooked." His words were almost a whisper, revealing a vulnerability I hadn't seen before.

I smiled softly, reaching my hands to fix his crooked tie. "Here, your tie is now straight. And Spencer, you're not weird; you look really good tonight. I think you'll do very well."

He smiled softly, thanking me, and said, "Well, you do too! You look very beautiful tonight, Y/N.” My heart skipped a beat at the unexpected compliment. He blushed slightly before adding, “I should really get going. I don't want to be late for my date.”

“Go get him, tiger,” I encouraged with a smile as I stayed behind, watching him leave.

Fuck, he looked so good; his dark blue suit fit him in all the right places. Though not a radical departure from his usual attire, the effort put into his appearance fueled my jealousy. The realization that he was heading on a date with someone else lingered in my thoughts, intensifying the sting.

To make matters worse, we´re at the same restaurant, and I would have to endure the evening watching him, attempting to engage in my own date while inwardly yearning for his company.

The challenge would be to keep my eyes from straying towards him, wishing the girl by his side was me.

Shaking my head to dispel thoughts of Spencer, I took a deep breath before entering the restaurant. I traversed the restaurant, consciously keeping my head down until I arrived at the table with the view of the river, and it was only then that I allowed myself to look around.

To my surprise, when I looked at the table, I found Spencer sitting there.

Confusion clouded my mind as I stood there, staring at Spencer, seated at the table, facing away from me. Disbelief hung in the air like a heavy fog. This had to be a misunderstanding; it couldn't be Spencer. My friend John specifically directed the blind date; he arranged for me to sit at this table, but Spencer was here.

The possibilities raced through my mind like a whirlwind of uncertainty. Did the receptionist make an error? Could there be another table with a view of the river where they seated my actual blind date? Could this guy look a lot like Spencer from behind? My thoughts spiraled into a maze of questions, each more perplexing than the last. I was caught in a web of doubt, trying to grasp the reality of the situation.

Could Spencer and John know each other? How would they even know each other? Although we all work at the FBI, they work in totally different divisions.

As I approached the table, just a few feet away, I confirmed my suspicion: it was him—Spencer. Even though he wasn't facing me, I recognized his curls, almost catching a whiff of his distinctive perfume. It was undeniably him. How did this happen?

My heels clacked on the ground, a sound that drew Spencer's attention. His gaze shifted, expecting another woman, preparing for a polite greeting. "Hi, nice to meet y…” His words now caught in his throat.

As I pulled the chair and sat down in front of him, he halted his movements, confusion etched on his face. It seemed like he was ready to stand up, perhaps shake hands, and greet another person. But as he realized it was me, his expression transformed into one of utter bewilderment.

"Y/N, what is going on?" Spencer asked, his face a mix of confusion and concern as he settled back into his chair.

I leaned forward, my elbows resting on the table. "How do you know John Watters, Jonathan Watters?" I questioned, peering at him with an intense gaze.

"What? What do you mean, Y/N?" Spencer replied, clearly confused by the sudden turn of events.

"Spencer, how do you know John?" I repeated, my eyes locked onto his, seeking an explanation for the unexpected twist in our supposed blind date.

"John Watters and I play chess in the park. We met a couple of months ago, and now we play together regularly," Spencer explained, his confusion still evident in his expression. “Y/N, what is going on?” he added, his brow furrowing in concern.

“Spencer…” I began, a faint smile creeping onto my face as it reddened, my hands immediately meeting my face. It dawned on me; John had set us both up, and it seemed he might not have known Spencer and I already knew each other.

I could see the wheels turning in his head, his eyes widening. He seemed to have a eureka moment. "Do you know him?" he asked, his tone still a little unsure. I only nodded, my faint smile hidden behind my fingers, covering how embarrassed I was.

Then Spencer fired questions left and right. "What? How do you know John?” He set you up with me. Like… did you know? You wanted to have a date with me and asked him to do it? I mean, I have talked…." He was blushing like crazy, so I decided to interrupt.

"No, No... I mean, yes, but..." I stumbled on my words as I tried to answer. "I do know John, yes, but I didn't know he set us up... But yes, I wouldn't... I wouldn’t mind a date with you." The last part slipped my tongue way too quickly, the confession escaping my lips.

"Are you serious? A date with me?" He sounded excited but mostly surprised.

"I mean, we're already here, so we might as well do it. He clearly thought we were a good pair," I offered, keeping my head down. My face felt hot, and I was smiling like a stupid little kid.

“I can't believe this; I can't believe this is happening. You don't know how long I've been trying to gather the courage to ask you out, and now this is happening." His head fell back as he inhaled deeply. “Is this real? Can you pinch me, Y/N? You look so pretty, so beautiful. I can't believe this is actually happening. I must be dreaming." His excitement was palpable, and his gaze was fixed on me with a mix of joy and disbelief.

“You're definitely awake; this is real!” I reached out my hand to him and held his hand. “See, this is real—a very strange coincidence, but undeniably real.”

The evening unfolded gracefully. Spencer took my recommendation, and we ordered the Carbonara, complemented by a shared bottle of Cabernet. I couldn't help but savor the moments when our laughter harmonized, creating a melody of shared joy. A subtle warmth spread across our faces, not just from the ambiance but also from the wine. Our laughter became a touch more carefree, perhaps a little tipsy, adding an extra layer of delight to the evening. The restaurant seemed to fade into the background as we continued to enjoy each other’s company.

As the plates were cleared away and the restaurant emptied out, Spencer's gaze remained locked on mine. We sat in silence for a little bit as a warm feeling settled, enjoying the lingering aura of the evening. Spencer smiled softly, leaning closer to me and taking my hands in his. "Let me walk you home," he suggests. "It's a beautiful night, and I'd love to spend more time with you."

As we stepped out into the crisp night air, the city lights played on the surface of the river, casting a gentle glow on our path. Spencer and I began to stroll along the riverbank towards my apartment. The soft murmur of the water provided a soothing background to our conversation, and amidst our banter, our attention was drawn to an old lady with a basket of roses.

"Hello there," the old lady said, greeting Spencer with a twinkle in her eye. "Would you like to buy a rose for your beautiful girlfriend?"

"Oh, but I'm not his girlf..." Before I could clarify, Spencer, wearing a confident smile, chimed in, "Yet..." He told the sweet lady "So yes, I would love to buy her a rose." He turned to me with a playful glint in his eyes.

The old lady chuckled warmly. "Here you go, young man, a rose for your not-yet-girlfriend. May your love bloom as beautifully as this rose," she said, handing the vibrant flower to Spencer.

I thanked him as he handed me the rose, appreciating the beautiful gesture. We then continued our walk, the soft glow of the city lights guiding our way.

"So, a rose for the 'not-yet-girlfriend'," I teased, a playful smile on my lips.

"Well," he began, "I thought a rose might be a good start, but who's to say what the future holds?"

"Fair enough," I replied, a teasing glint in my eye. "A rose is a good start but what's your plan for the rest of our 'not-yet' journey?"

"Well, I've had a lot of time to think about this," he began, a sly grin playing on his lips. "I won't disappoint you, that's for sure."

I felt a subtle warmth spread—a mixture of curiosity and excitement. "Is that so?" I replied with a playful glint in my eye. "I guess I'll have to wait and see what surprises you have in store.”

As we continued our walk to my apartment and reached my doorstep, the night seemed to invite us to linger a little longer.

"I had a lot of fun, Y/N. I regretted every moment we weren't doing this sooner," Spencer confessed.

"I loved this night too, Spencer," I began, a genuine warmth in my voice. "This is not how I imagined my night ending at all; I definitely never expected you to be my blind date."

"I just can't believe this happened. Who would have thought you would go on a date with me?" His soft hand reached for mine; his touch was warm and inviting.

"Well, Jonathan apparently did," I laughed, the surreal nature of the evening sinking in.

"Of course, he thinks I want to date you. I talk about you all the time..." Spencer shyly admitted, his gaze avoiding mine.

"Wait! You talk about me?" My voice lifted with happiness.

"Well, I just tell him about my day... and how I love being by your side. You're so understanding, always listening to me. Your attentive gaze makes my heart skip a beat, and your eyes, Y/N, they sparkle so beautifully. And your smile—oh, it's the prettiest I've ever seen." His words were tender, and his brown eyes never left mine. "Jonathan never told me he knew you; I guess he sensed I was too scared to act upon my feelings and took matters in to his own hands." He chuckled. "And now you're here, and we went on this date—a wonderful date, may I add—and you look absolutely stunning."

As Spencer's words lingered in the quiet night, I felt a soft warmth enveloping us and an unspoken connection deepening.

"I would really to kiss you." He whisperd. His gaze held a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability, mirroring the sentiments that resonated within me.

"You know what, Spence?" I began, a gentle smile playing on my lips. "I'd really like that too."

His eyes brightened with joy, and as if a shared understanding passed between us, he leaned in slowly. His hands cradled my face, creating an intimate connection as he closed the remaining space between us. The world around us faded into a soft blur as our lips finally met.

The kiss was tender, his lips warm and inviting, and the sensation sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.

As we pulled away, a shared smile painted across our faces, our foreheads pressed together in a moment of quiet closeness.

"Wow," Spencer whispered.

"Wow indeed," I replied, my heart echoing the sentiment.

"I've been waiting so long to do this," he said, kissing me again, this time with more force and desire.

The kiss deepened, his lips pressing against mine with a newfound intensity, fueled by the longing we had both harbored for so long. It was a fusion of heat and tenderness, with each movement deliberate and purposeful.

His hands, which had cradled my face so gently before, now moved with a purpose, exploring the contours of my back and waist. The taste of him was intoxicating—a blend of warmth and desire that left me breathless.

"Spencer," I began, feeling our breaths mingle. "Would you like to come in?

Spencer's eyes darkened in response, his nod signaling his agreement.

As the door shut behind us, I carefully placed the rose he gave me on a small side table by the entrance, wanting to preserve the sweet gesture. Spencer, without saying a word, pulled me against him again.

I guided us through the familiar space of my home with an urgency that spoke of unspoken desires. As we reached the bedroom, our bodies entwined again.

I laid back on the bed, letting my body sink into the softness of the mattress. Spencer's body was right above mine, and our lips met in a hot, messy kiss. It was like everything else melted away, and all that was left was us in this moment. I could feel the heat of his body on top of mine, and the rush of intimacy was palpable. I wanted this moment to last forever, clinging tight to his every touch.

Spencer's hands glided along the curves of my body, caressing me with an intimacy that left me wanting more. His lips left mine to roam lower, descending slowly towards my breasts. A shiver of anticipation ran down my spine, and my breath caught in my chest.

Spencer's voice broke through the intensity. "Are you sure?"

A smile played on my lips as I whispered, "Yes, please Spence."

The sudden touch of his finger on my skin sent a shiver down my spine as his hand slowly drifted down my shoulder and pulled the strap of my dress down. As my nipple became exposed, he kissed it gently, sending a wave of arousal through my body.

He looked so pretty like this; his smooth hand cradled my breast as his lips left soft kisses. His slow hums of satisfaction were accompanied by the thrusts of his hips against my clothed core.

Sensing the escalating desire between us, Spencer then took the initiative, smoothly pulling my dress off. I felt exposed as his hands traveled down my body, lowering himself and planting soft kisses on my stomach.

"You look so beautiful and you smell so good." His whispers of admiration filled the air. "I bet you taste even better." He placed a soft kiss where I wanted him the most. I moaned at his words, not expecting them.

He then proceeded to slide my panties to the side, slowly licking a long stripe. The warmth of his tongue against my skin sent shivers through my body, and the anticipation built with every teasing touch.

“Fuck, it's even better than I imagined." His words were muffled as he spoke from between my legs, looking into my eyes. My moans filled the room, joined by the sound of his mouth devouring my wetness. My hands met his hair as I pulled him closer by his curls.

"Spencer..." My voice caught in my throat.

"What, baby?" The enduring name leaving his lips made my heart flutter.

"I need you," I pleaded.

"Need me to what, baby?" His middle finger breached my entrance. "Use your words," he said, caressing my opening. The sensation of his finger chills of pleasure down my spine. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and I could feel a rush of arousal building inside me. "I need you inside, please," I begged, moving my body against his.

Sensing my urge, he stood, undressing me and then himself. "Since you asked so nicely," he lined up and slowly sank in, his head resting on my shoulder, and his soft moan muffled on my neck.

Our kisses were slow and passionate, our lips brushing against each other with every movement of our bodies. His hands caressed my body, sending a wave of pleasure through me that only increased with every thrust.

Each rhythmic movement brought us closer to the edge, the intensity growing with each caress and whispered word. "You feel so good, Y/N; it’s like you were made for me." Spencer's voice was laden with desire as I moaned into his lips.

The intensity grew with each passionate thrust, and we were both lost in a world of pleasure. Our bodies were tightly intertwined, pressed up against each other as we let our emotions take over. Our moans filled the room, and our breathing became shallow and fast. We both wanted this moment to last forever, clinging to each other with all the strength we could muster.

"Spencer, I can't,” I cried out.

"Can you hold it for me, just a little, pretty girl?" he said, looking into my eyes. My eyes fluttered, closing at the words.

"No, no, no, keep your eyes on me," he said. "Yes, just like that." He kept thrusting with force, and I couldn't take it anymore. “I want to see your pretty face as you cum, baby.”

"Spence... please inside." I begged him, and that was all it took. I didn't have to wait any longer. The tension in the room reached its peak, and I could feel him release, his climax echoing mine.

Our bodies trembled together in the aftermath, the shared intensity of the moment lingering in the air. The room was filled with the sounds of our rapid breaths and the soft rustle of sheets as we came down from the euphoric high.

As we lay there, a playful smile crossed Spencer's lips. "So, about that 'not-yet-girlfriend' situation..." he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I chuckled, tracing circles on his chest. "Well, it looks like we just fast-tracked that process."

Spencer grinned. "Guess we skipped a few steps."

I gave him a playful look. "Steps? Who needs steps when you have Jonathan playing cupid?”.

Spencer gave a playful shrug. "Well, I'll be sure to thank the man.”

#criminal minds #mgg x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #mgg fanfiction #mgg smut #mgg x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #Spence reid x reader smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid friends to lovers

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terra-tortoise · 6 days

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i think ive unfortunately scried the perfect dragon for the wyrm. tragically theres only faes with these colors on the ah AND no copies of this accent </3

#someday #imperials #scribes #flight rising #the skeletal wyrm #pursuit primordial

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cosmic-whispers · 7 months

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Control - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel attacks you after being mind controlled by an enemy with daemati powers and struggles to grapple with the guilt that follows.

Warnings: angst, violence, reader being strangled and attacked, mind control

Words: 6.0k

A/N: Hi everyone! It’s been a while since I’ve posted here, life has been crazy lately and writer’s block doesn’t help. I missed writing and was finally able to get this out. Hope you all enjoy!

Your breath came out in heavy pants and your legs burned as you ran through the thick foliage of the jungle. Eldric, the daemati high fae you and Azriel had been tracking for the last week, turned a sharp corner and you pushed your legs harder, ignoring the burning ache in your thighs. You groaned in frustration after his image disappeared around the corner. He had evaded you again.

You slowed to a stop, knowing the pursuit was pointless. Your shoulders slumped and you ran a hand down your face. The sound of flapping wings filled your ears as Azriel broke through the branches hanging overhead and descended near you. A soft hand landed on your shoulder, the thumb rubbing soft, comforting circles in the fabric of your leathers.

“Should we look for him again?” you asked, looking up at him.

He shook his head, disappointment and frustration shining in his hazel eyes.

“We’ll find him again,” Azriel said.

“He’s good,” you said. And he was. He was cunning, fast, and endowed with the same, rare power as your High Lord. He could be standing right in front of you and you would be none the wiser if he was able to break through your mental shields. He was nearly unstoppable. After a failed assassination attempt on Rhysand—where the male had gotten entirely too close—Azriel and you had decided to hunt him down and eliminate the threat.

“We’re better.” You looked at him. Despite his obvious annoyance, he was confident in his words. You smiled softly at him, admiring his unwavering determination.

“Getting cocky?” He smiled at you, his features lightening up, and he winked at you. You laughed, nervous as your cheeks heated up and your heartbeat increased. You looked away, hoping he did not notice just how flustered he made you.

“I enjoy the challenge. Things were getting too easy.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes at him.

“I have a shadow tracking him. This is his home, we have him cornered. We’ll get him soon.”

Despite his comforting words, the brief thought that you were on Eldric’s playing field crossed your mind. That perhaps he was toying with the both of you. You didn’t dare speak that into existence. You nodded at Azriel and you turned, retreating together through the thick underbrush until Azriel was able to fly the both of you out.

The small inn you were staying at was stationed near the jungle's edge. The flight there was short and you relished being in Azriel’s strong arms as long as possible.

The room was small, the single bed pushed against a wall and a tiny restroom where Azriel’s wings barely fit in off to the side.

“You can freshen up first,” he offered and you smiled, grateful to get the sweat and grime off your skin.

You walk into the dingy, cramped room, grimacing at the tiny tub you had been forced to squeeze into for the past week. You closed the door behind you and your face heated at the lack of a lock. The only thing separating your body from his was one thin piece of wood without a lock. You prayed to the Mother that he could not scent the sudden arousal that flooded you in unrelenting waves, surprised at your own self-control for the past week.

You forced yourself through the aimless bathing, preparing yourself for bed, and trying to distract yourself from the indulgent thoughts of him. You blushed as you slipped the silk nightgown Mor had packed for you over your head, wondering if Azriel had taken notice of the contour of your figure through the thin fabric.

You stepped out of the restroom, eyes immediately finding Azriel’s. His gaze trailed down over your body and you felt every cell in your body ignite. He was silent for a few seconds, causing butterflies to erupt within you.

His eyes met yours once more, intense and unreadable, and heat crept up your neck and face.

“The restroom is free,” you said, needing to break the heavy silence. Your voice was quiet and you hoped he could not hear the quiver when you spoke.

He nodded, gaze still unwavering from you. You stared back until he cleared his throat and made his way into the restroom. You let out a heaving breath, hoping to shake the tense nerves. You distracted your thoughts away from him as much as you could, getting ready and climbing into the bed. The bath water ran muffled through the door and your thoughts wandered. He was naked, with just a wooden door with no lock in between the two of you. You felt your body heating and hoped that sleep would overtake you soon.

The water shut off after some time and he exited the bathroom. He was shirtless, tan skin glistening from the steam of the bath and the hot climate. Your breath caught at the sight of his defined, rippling muscles and the swirls of tattoos adorning his skin. No matter how many times your eyes were blessed by the sight, you found yourself struck dumb every time.

“Are you alright?” he asked, looking at you with his brow furrowed. “You seem flushed.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you hoped he could not notice the bashfulness that filled you.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just tired and it’s warmer here than I’m used to. I’ve been away from home for too long”

You quickly faced away from him, laying on your side and moving as close to the edge of the bed as possible. You focused your thoughts on your breathing rather than the male, trying to calm yourself. There was shuffling behind you and you felt the bed dip as he laid down next to you. Your heart was racing and it nearly beat out of your chest as he shuffled closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer, pinning you against him. Your skin felt electric, set alight by the feel of his rough hands and the weight of his arms around you.

“Good night, sweetheart,” he murmured, his gravelly voice close to your ear sending rippling shivers down your spine. He had to be doing it on purpose. He was the most observant person you knew. How could he not realize the effect he had on you?

You gulped and gently cleared your throat. “Good night, Az.”

Neither of you had ever spoken about it. You were the one that was able to pull him from the dark crevices of his mind. And he was the one who was able to comfort you when no one else could. He was your safe place when your walls crumbled around you. You trusted him more than anyone. The lingering tension was always heavy, but your friendship was sacred and you had formed an impenetrable bond you were unwilling to break.

His arm tightened around your middle, pulling you tighter against his warm body. His shadows swirled around your hands, softly tickling your skin and you sighed, content and finally relaxed as his soft breaths lulled you to sleep.

————-

The bright moon shined through the window, illuminating the dark room in a soft, silver light. His thoughts raced through his mind—barely forming before another took its place. Between the feel of you in his arms in that damn nightgown and the elusive daemati, he knew it would be another sleepless night.

Despite the comfort of you safe in his arms, Azriel couldn’t sleep. The taunting, smug smile of the daemati male haunted his mind and he simmered in anger. It shouldn’t be so hard to catch him. It shouldn’t have taken him this long. The male should never have gotten that close to Rhysand in the first place. He should have never let it happen.

He needed to prove himself—to redeem himself. After centuries of honing his skills, Azriel had an appreciation for his powers. He was confident in his ability to serve his court. He was a capable spy, his shadows giving him an edge over most adversaries. But the whispers in his mind would never be fully silent—he would always be that scared little boy, desperate to prove that he was good enough to deserve everything he had.

And after a week of tracking Eldric, he was still nowhere closer to catching him. It felt like he was chasing smoke. It felt like he was failing.

You sighed softly in your sleep, turning in his arms to face him and you snuggled your face into his chest. His eyes turned to you and softened at your peaceful expression. Your presence always calmed him, centered him.

His heart beat wildly in his chest and soared at having you like this. He smiled softly, memorizing the feel of you and your soft breathing in his ears. The past week had been bliss—sleeping with you in his arms and having you so close to him.

Your sweet scent drifted toward him and he reveled in the essence of you—his best friend. He trusted you like no one else; he was able to confide in you with secrets that not even his brothers knew. He found himself falling for you more each day. He knew that friends don’t look at each other like you did. Deep down, he had strong suspicions about who you were to him, but he never dared to think about it too much—too afraid to be wrong and disappointed. It was wishful thinking to believe that you were fated to him.

He sighed, knowing he was too strung up to fall asleep. He gently moved you to your side of the bed, making sure you were comfortably tucked in. His scarred hand tenderly caressed the side of your face, your soft skin feeling delightful against his. He admired your features for a moment, wondering how someone could be so beautiful. He shook the thoughts away, making sure you were safe and snuggled before he stood, slipped into his leathers, and left the room.

The darkened halls of the inn were eerily quiet, the patrons and staff asleep. His siphons cast a light blue light, guiding his way outside. He was too restless and needed to leave, to do something useful instead of lying down and being consumed by his thoughts. He could get some work done.

He made his way through the dense undergrowth, footsteps silent and shadows shrowding him in darkness. They easily guided him closer to where he knew Eldric tended to camp, to where his gray shadow had followed him. He secured his mind shields, building them up, ensuring that the male would not sense him. The moon had shifted in the sky and Azriel estimated he had been walking for nearly an hour when he found the secluded campsite. It was almost impossible to see, his belongings nestled at the entrance of a tunnel in the ground, covered by leaves and branches. He hid in the darkness the massive trees provided, his shadows helping shield any part of him that light would reveal.

It was dark, but Azriel could make out light smoke from a small campfire, and the scent of cooked meat permeated the air. He had been there recently. He watched the entrance to the tunnel intently, hoping to catch a glimpse of movement. Was there another entrance he could use to ambush Eldric? He sent a shadow to investigate and continued his surveillance. He stood silently and immobile for over an hour without even a hint of the damn daemati anywhere near.

The shrouding silence of the night was interrupted by a shrill scream coming from somewhere behind him. His heart leaped into his throat, beating wildly as panic crept up in his chest. He knew that voice.

It was you.

His mind emptied of all thoughts as he took off in the direction he heard you from. Why were you here? He had left you peacefully sleeping in bed. He was panting hard, heart nearly beating out of his chest as pure fear spread through him. His body was sweating and he found it increasingly hard to take a deep breath in as if he was being suffocated.

His legs wouldn’t carry him fast enough and his wings kept getting in his way. He screamed in frustration as he twisted in between a thick gathering of trees. Was he even heading in the right direction? His shadows had been dispersed to search for you, but it was taking too long for them to return to him.

“(Y/N)!” he called out. He knew it was risky and that his position would be revealed if Eldric was anywhere near him. But he was desperate to find you.

“Azriel!”

He bolted to his left, your voice guiding him to you. He reached a small meadow, the lush ground free of trees and sprinkled with vibrant flowers and rock formations. His eyes immediately found you, tied to a tree at the other end of the clearing. Your shoulders shook as tears ran down your face as you looked at him and smiled in relief.

“You found me,” you said softly, teary-eyed and vulnerable.

“Always,” he whispered and rushed to you. His shadows appeared, swarming around him, whispering frantically. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, voices becoming deafening and he ordered them away as he reached you. He kneeled and his hand lifted to where thick rope held your wrists together. As his skin was about to brush against yours, you vanished like mist in his hands. He choked on air, distressed, and confusion filled him as you disappeared from right in front of him.

“It was really too easy.”

Azriel’s blood ran cold and his muscles clenched. He turned, finding himself face-to-face with Eldric. He reeled his shadows close to him, preparing for a fight against the male. Eldric was relaxed, his shoulders slumped slightly and he leaned casually against a tree.

“Where is she?” he demanded.

“Seems like I’ve found your weakness, Shadowsinger.”

Rage was a burning, eviscerating fire within him and he snarled at the daemati, like a wild animal. The male laughed, smug and taunting.

“Where is she?”

“I’m not quite sure. I assume asleep at the inn, right where you left her. Or perhaps she’s woken up and decided to follow you into the jungle. Would not be her best idea–but I suppose that’s why you like her so much. You’re both fools.”

“I will kill you if you hurt her. And I’ll make sure it’s slow.” His fists clenched at his side, his nails leaving deep imprints on the palm of his hand. He fought to stay in control and focused.

“Me? Hurt her?” Eldric laughed, acting offended at the accusation. “I think the one you should be worrying about is yourself.”

In a split second, Azriel had the terrorizing realization of what was about to happen. What he might be forced to do. And no training with Rhysand could prepare him against someone who had honed his abilities for centuries and was willing to destroy his mind.

He tried to resist with every ounce of strength in him, but the talons shredded the shields protecting his mind like a knife through butter. A sharp pain exploded in the forefront of his mind and he screamed in agony as it spread across his entire skull. He was barely aware of falling to his knees and his hands clutched his head, pulling tight against the black strands. His mind was being invaded, the parasitic presence tainting his memories and thoughts and he sobbed. His last thought before the darkness set in was of you.

—-------------

One Hour Earlier

You paced the length of the dark room for the hundredth time, it seemed. You were surprised the ground beneath your feet did not catch on fire. You had awoken almost an hour ago, a brief moment of panic and disappointment filling you as you found the space beside you empty. You cursed the innkeeper for not having a bigger room with another bed. Despite relishing in the feeling of being in Azriel’s arms, you had grown accustomed to his presence and comfort and now were having a difficult time sleeping without him.

You realized pretty quickly that the Shadowsinger had probably gone looking for the daemati alone. He had tried numerous times throughout your stay to go out on his own, claiming he was protecting you or not wasting time. Stubborn Illyrian baby. He was going to get himself killed.

You wished you had daemati powers at that moment. You needed to speak with Azriel, see him, and make sure that he was alright before lecturing him about being reckless. He meant well, you knew that. Yet, the frustration settled low in your chest and you wanted to rip your hair out in distress as your mind dwelled on all the negative possibilities.

You knew him better than anyone. You knew he felt defeated and wanted to catch the damn fae. You knew he felt like he needed to redeem himself, like somehow everything that had happened was his fault for failing to protect Rhysand. He failed to realize that he did protect Rhysand. He stopped Eldric before he could get to the High Lord and has been chasing his tail ever since, getting closer and closer to catching him. Your exasperation with the Illyrian grew like a tightening noose, its relentless grip clutching at you. How could he not see how wonderful he was? Why did he feel like he needed to throw himself into these situations without any backup and risk his own life?

You decided to go looking for him, dressing quickly and grabbing a lantern to light your way. You had to make sure that he was safe.

You hardly knew where to begin searching and figured retracing your steps from earlier in the day was a good place to start. You walked through the dense trees, hoping that a predator was not stalking you in the dark of the wilderness. The soft light from the lantern illuminated the space in front of you and you kept your eyes peeled for anything dangerous you might run into.

You traveled for over an hour, each step spiking your anxious heart and you prayed to find him soon. You find yourself in a clearing, dappled with the flickers of moonlight. Small wildflowers littered the ground, their bright summer colors illuminated by the shining moon above you. You took a moment to admire the scenery before your eyes caught on the soft blue shimmering light emanating from Azriel’s siphons. He faced away from you, but you knew that he was aware of your presence. His spine was straight, body tense and unnaturally still.

“Azriel?” Your voice echoed lightly in the silence of the night, the answering chirps from the bugs and grasshoppers deafening.

He turned to you, steps slow and deliberate.

He glowered at you, a predator locking in on its prey, and you stalled. Fear lit up inside of you for a moment and you took a step back, away from him. You had grown accustomed to his gaze being filled with warmth and softness and the sight of his icy glare sent tremors down your back. He didn't seem to recognize you, his large frame completely still and not a wisp of his shadows anywhere near him.

His gaze remained unwavering, pinning you to the spot for a few more moments until he snarled at you.

“You,” he growled, like a feral animal, his voice dark and coarse. Your eyes widened as he began sprinting full speed towards you, thundering footfalls on the ground bringing you back to reality and you gasped as he reached you. You thought back to all the Valkyrie training and the practice sparring you and Azriel would often engage in, hoping against hope that it was enough to keep you alive.

You swerved to the left as he reached you, using your smaller size to avoid the direct impact from Azriel’s body. While Azriel’s brute strength would easily overpower you, you were agile. He regained his footing, swinging at you and you barely managed to block his arm. Shooting pain radiated down your wrist, and you realized that he had never truly used his full strength against you in training. You would not be able to take him. You knew you couldn’t keep up the cat-and-mouse game for much longer. His Illyrian instincts were intact and he was quick on his feet as he charged at you again, and you were able to avert him once more.

He was much closer to you now, and you took a tentative step away from him. From that distance, you could see his features twisted in rage and the dazed, cloudy look in his hazel eyes. The realization rushed over you like ice water. Eldric. He had broken into his mind. Pure ice filled your veins—his mind was being controlled to hurt you. Your heart clenched and you prayed to the Mother and any gods in the universe that his mind was not lost. That there was still hope of getting him back.

His shadows suddenly appeared, and fear filled you for a brief moment until you noticed they swarmed around his face, momentarily blinding him. He wasn’t using them to attack you–they were attacking him. They were helping you.

You took advantage of his momentary distraction, using the lantern you still had in your hand, and swung, the impact of the metal on his skull echoing in your ears and you smelled the hint of metallic blood. He was still standing upright, trying to fight off the blinding shadows. One wrapped around your wrist, trying to pull you away, but you stood your ground. You could not leave him like that.

You swung the lantern again, hoping to knock him out with the impact, but his large, scarred hand flew out and wrapped around your wrist, the tight grip making you whimper in pain as he squeezed harder. You tried to shake him off, aiming a kick toward his groin, but he growled and blindly tackled you to the ground before you were able to get another hit in.

You heard–rather than felt–your head smashing against the hard rock underneath you. Your ears began ringing, the deafening sound and painful pressure building in the back of your head making you delirious and your vision began to blur. You were going to pass out and that realization made you panic.

You knew he was significantly stronger than you, his Illyrian genetics making him near indestructible. You had no hope. You yelled for Rhysand in your head, praying to the Mother that he could hear you from Velaris. Azriel’s large hands wrapped around your neck, squeezing. You looked up at his face–gorgeous, despite the frigid fury that lingered in his features. His empty eyes looked into yours, unseeing and frightening.

The air was trapped inside you, your lungs burning as they begged for air. A stabbing pain spread across your neck as he squeezed harder and tears escaped your eyes. You wanted to beg him to come back to you. You felt your face heat up as the pressure began building further and further in your head. The pulsing pressure intensified and your vision narrowed, a rushing sound filling your ears like a crescendo as darkness greeted you.

———————

Flickers of light danced across your vision. You felt yourself slowly awaken. There were soft, silk sheets beneath you, the air smelled like the cinnamon buns Elain was so fond of baking, and a soft voice drifted near you, reciting lines from a book you had recently read. You forced yourself to blink your eyes open, the light of the window causing them to ache. You groaned and shut your eyes tight in discomfort.

“(Y/N)!” You squinted your eyes open, thankful for the curtains that had just been drawn. You looked up at Feyre as she approached you and grasped your hand.

“We were so worried!”

“What happened? Where’s Azriel? What about Eldric? How long have I been out?” Your voice was raspy, and it felt like needles scraping against your throat when you spoke. You coughed, the burning intensifying, and a sharp headache began forming. Feyre’s hand supported your back as she helped you sit up on the bed and passed you a drink of water and a vial of medication you assumed Madja had left for you.

The cool liquid felt heavenly against your throat and you sighed in relief as the medication began coursing through you, helping clear your mind of the pain-infused fog.

“Please drink it all,” Feyre said. “You’ve been out for two days.” She took the empty glass from your hand and placed it on the nightstand next to you.

“Do you remember what happened?” she asked you carefully. She looked at you, eyes soft and brows creased.

You nodded, Her hand tightened around yours and you swallowed the knot that rose in your throat. “Azriel?” you rasped out, your voice weak and thin.

Tears filled Feyres eyes as she looked at you and your heart raced in your chest as dread filled you.

“Rhys was able to get there in time. Eldric managed to break down Azriel’s mind shields and essentially took control of his mind. His goal was to infiltrate Velaris and go for Rhysand using Azriel. Rhys was able to break the control away from his mind and killed Eldric.”

You stared at her, eyes wide and the blood in your veins had gone cold. You knew damn well the damage that daemati powers could cause. His mind could be obliterated. You quickly shook the thought away, desperate for any indication that was not the case.

“Is he alright?”

“He’s…as fine as he can be. He hasn’t left his room since we returned.” Your heart broke for him–for the selfless, kind male you knew who was being consumed by guilt. You rose from the bed, and Feyre startled, gently forcing you back onto the bed.

“What are you doing? You need to rest,” Feyre said.

“I’ve rested for days. I need to see him.”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “It might not be safe.”

You looked at her incredulously. How could she ever think that Azriel would hurt you on purpose?

“How can you say that?! You know that if he was in control, he never would have hurt me. He’s not some rabid animal you need to keep away. He’s my best friend and I want to see him. It’s not his fault this happened.” You broke into a coughing fit again and she handed you another glass of water.

“I know that; I do. I just worry about you. At least heal up first. And then we can go see him.” You didn’t miss the fact that she said we.

You sighed, your body exhausted and in pain, and decided to follow along for now. “Fine.”

Madja soon made her way into the room, happy to see you awake and you went through her examination without complaining once despite the haunting thought of Azriel in your mind. You fell asleep early in the afternoon, your body and mind fatigued.

—------------------

You heaved a sigh of relief as you found yourself alone for the first moment since you had awoken. Feyre had stayed by your side, perhaps thinking that you would try to sneak away to see the Azriel. The rest of the Inner Circle trickled in and out until Rhysand had to gently persuade his wife to join him in bed.

As dusk settled and darkness started to take over, you gently rose from the bed. The rest you got during the day did you good, you felt stronger. You opened the door slowly, sneaking your head out to make sure that no one was keeping watch of your room. You quickly walked the length of the hallway, making your way to Azriel’s room.

You stared at the wooden door, feeling anxious and scared of the state in which you would find your friend. You took a deep breath and knocked softly on the door. Silence greeted you and you tried again.

You slowly opened the door and looked inside after there was no answer. The room was pitch black, with no slivers of light making their way through the heavy, dark shadows that surrounded the space. Only a soft blue light emanated from the corner of the room–his siphons. You made your way to him, making your footsteps loud and deliberate, although he probably already knew you were there. He sat on the floor, his back resting against the wall. His shoulders were slumped and wings were pulled taut against his body. He had never looked so defeated.

“Azriel.” You managed nothing more than a small whisper.

He turned his back to you and tears began to blur your vision. He didn’t want to face you. “Why are you here?”

His shoulders slumped and they shook as he took a quivering breath in. His shadows swarmed around him, trying to shield him from you. Or perhaps it was the other way around.

“You shouldn’t be here. If you had any self-preservation, you would leave.”

You shook your head, taking a step closer to him. Your hands longed to reach out to him and comfort him, but you didn’t dare touch him, fearing that he would close himself off more. “I needed to see you. To make sure you’re alright.”

He let out a cynical laugh and you frowned. “I almost killed you, and you want to make sure I’m alright. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You knew he was upset and angry at himself over what happened. You did not doubt in your mind he was trying to push you away. And you’ll be damned if you ever let him do that.

“Azriel, I know that wasn’t you. I’m so sorry for what he did to you.”

He shook his head, still refusing to meet your gaze.

“I don’t want to see you, (Y/N).” The tears escaped your eyes, your heart breaking a million times over.

“Well, too bad. Because I want to see you,” you insisted.

His spine straightened and he turned to you, eyes full of rage and pain, and glistening with unshed tears. There were bags under his eyes, pronounced and dark. He had not been sleeping. “How can you stand to look at me?” he growled at you. “What I did to you–it’s unforgivable. I’m not good for you. I hurt you. Just leave.”

His eyes traveled down your face and stopped at your neck. You heard the breath catch in his throat, and his eyes widened, face growing ashen and he took a step back from you. Shit. You should have checked for bruises and tried to cover them up. Being so preoccupied with thoughts of the Illyrian before you, the thought had not occurred to you.

“Oh, gods,” he whispered, his hands coming up to cover his face in shame. “You shouldn’t be here.”

He stepped away from you, silver lining his eyes. You took a tentative step towards him.

“Az, you’re not going to drive me away. You’re my best friend, I’m never going to abandon you. I want to be here for you.”

His eyes blazed as he glared at you and you could almost feel him vibrating in unbridled rage.

“I almost killed you! How can you not understand that?! I almost—“

You cut him off before he had the chance to continue. “You didn’t, though. I’m still here. I know that you weren’t in control. It’s not your fault, Azriel. I could never blame you for what happened.”

He shook his head, dejected. “Why are you here?” His voice was quiet and small, and you had never heard him speak like that.

“You already know,” you said slowly, your voice steady despite the tears flowing down your face. He stared at you, silent and stoic. He was waiting for you to take it back. To turn away and leave him. He knew why you were there despite what he had done. It was the same reason he had promised to always protect you. It was the same reason why you were always so comfortable with each other and why it was always so easy for him to let his walls down when he was around you.

“No,” he whispered, eyes unwavering from yours. “I’m not good for you. And I certainly don’t deserve you. You shouldn’t want that.”

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and slowly walked towards him, closing the distance between the two of you. He didn’t step away, but his eyes followed you, flickering down to the floor in shame when you got too close. Your hand raised, hovering over his face and you paused, giving him the time to pull away if he wanted to. He stayed still and you pressed your palm softly against his cheek and he sighed, closing his eyes.

“You’re not a monster, Az. I know that. You’re a good male—the best kind there is.”

He shook his head and a tear escaped, trailing down his tan cheek and you gently brushed it away.

“The things I’ve done…” He trailed off, unwilling to put his sins into words.

“You’ve done difficult things for your court, but I know that you don’t take any pleasure in it. You do it because it’s what’s best for everyone. To protect the people you love. What happened was not your fault. Someone took control of you—please don’t blame yourself for that.”

Azriel nodded, his eyes slowly moving up and meeting yours. His gaze flickered back to the dark, hand-shaped bruises around your neck. Your fast healing was already starting to fade them. He raised his hand to touch you, but he pulled back quickly. Your other hand grabbed his, intertwining your fingers and you squeezed his hand in comfort. You brought his hand up to your face, pressing a soft kiss against the scarred skin of his knuckles.

He let out a sob, grabbing you and pulling you tight against him, his arms wrapping around your smaller frame and enveloping you in the scent of mist and cedar. He dug his face into the crook of your neck and his arms tightened around your waist.

“I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, and you hugged him tight, trying to comfort him as he cried.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” you whispered, caressing the hair at the nape of his neck.

He shook his head, weeping as he tried to calm his heaving breaths. “Yes, there is. Please.” His voice trembled as he pleaded for your forgiveness and you tightened your arms around him. There was nothing you had to forgive him for, but you knew that he had to hear it. You knew it would help him start to forgive himself.

“I forgive you. I know you would never hurt me.”

“I almost lost you,” he whispered, so low that you almost didn’t hear him. “You’re everything to me. I will never let anything like that happen again, I promise.”

There was something so astoundingly comforting about being held by Azriel, chests pressed together and arms wound around each other. The fact that he let you hold his hand, the feel of his flushed cheeks against your hand. He thought so little of himself and your heart clenched in sorrow for him. You wished he could see himself how you saw him. He brought you peace and relief. He meant more to you than you were ready to admit out loud.

“I know. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be with you.”

It would take so much for him to be able to forgive himself. There was so much you needed to talk about, but you knew the right moment would come along. Azriel needed your comfort and you needed him in that instant.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel

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withwritersblock · 27 days

Text

Morbid Mind

~MORBID MIND by Jack Kays~

Author's Note: requested! Summary: Y/N helps Luke after a tough road trip Warnings: none Word Count: 1,138 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

He was coming back from a roadie where they lost every game. He hasn’t called her, afraid that he was in too bad of a mood to fully be a good boyfriend. They’ve only exchanged brief text messages.

She was okay with that, since she knows that it’s been a hard year. She never took his shortness as anything personal.

She stood in the kitchen, standing at the stove stirring the steaks. She tilted the pan as she began pouring more of the butter, garlic mixture over the steaks. It smelled lovely.

It was well past eleven at night, and she knew he hadn't eaten so she wanted to give him a home cooked meal. She texted him if he had landed from his flight and all he sent back was a smiley face emoji. He was probably waiting for Jack to start driving them back to their apartment.

She was making enough food for all three of them, of course. She turned the stove off as she began plating all of the food, she rested it onto the counter just as the door was being pushed open.

“Please tell me there’s food for me,” Jack spoke excitedly as he peeked his head into the kitchen, seeing three plates on the counter. “Lukey, I love your girlfriend,” Jack let out as he took the plate closest to him and walked towards the dining table. He sat down and quickly cut himself a piece of steak.

Luke peeked his head around the corner, his body covered in a hoodie. His head barely visible as the hoodie sunk his head in.

He walked towards her, holding his arms open. She gladly accepted the hug as she hasn’t seen him in almost two weeks. He engulfed her in a hug, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His cologne filled her nose, filling her chest with a sense of familiarity; she didn’t realize she needed it.

“Go eat,” she whispered as she pulled away from him, he leaned down and kissed her cheek dramatically. He took a hold of one of the plates and followed Jack in pursuit. He sat beside Jack, allowing space for Y/N to sit and eat beside them. He lifted his gaze from his food, noticing that she wasn’t walking over to them.

He pointed towards his food with his fork and tilted his head to the side, “I ate earlier, I’ll eat this tomorrow,” she said as she began covering the food with saran wrap. Luke nodded as he began devouring the food, he hasn’t eaten in several hours. He was weak and desperate for food.

“I’ll pay you to be my personal chef, Y/N, this is so good,” Jack expressed with a mouth full of food. Y/N shook her head as she chuckled nervously.

“You’re just starving,” she mumbled as she placed the plate into the fridge. She walked towards the table, as she glided her hand across Luke’s shoulders before she sat down beside him. He reached his free hand over as he rested it onto her thigh.

“Probably,” Jack muttered as he tilted his head back before he shoved more steak into his mouth. She rolled her eyes playfully as she pulled her phone from her pocket and began scrolling. She let the boys enjoy their extremely late dinner.

“We’ve got an optional skate tomorrow, I’m not going. So if you’re going you’ll have to drive yourself,” Jack said right as he finished his last bite of dinner. Luke simply hummed as he finished his food as well.

Y/N blinked and the food was gone. “Thank you for dinner, Y/N. See you guys tomorrow,” Jack mumbled as he dropped his plate into the dishwasher before he walked down the hall towards his bedroom. Luke followed in pursuit and placed his plate away as he leaned against the counter. He tilted his head to the side.

“Thank you for this,” he mumbled before taking a deep breath. “I’m gonna go shower,” he whispered as he crossed his arms over his chest. She nodded, watching him walk towards his bathroom.

“Want me to join you?” she offered. He spun around, a smirk toying to his lips. He nodded as he reached his hand out. Waiting for her to jog over towards him. She smiled as she took a hold of his hand as he guided her towards the bathroom.

After fifteen minutes, they climbed out of the shower, reaching for towels to cover themselves. He looked towards his reflection, sighing. She covered her body in a towel as she left the bathroom towards his bedroom where majority of her wardrobe lived.

She quickly changed into a hoodie and a pair of shorts as Luke walked out of the bathroom, still holding the towel around his legs. She glanced towards him, admiring his frame. He smiled towards her, rolling his eyes playfully. She laid on top of the comforter, rubbing lotion on her arms.

“Are you going to optional skate tomorrow?” she asked him as she watched him pull up a pair of sweatpants. He shook his head as he walked towards the bed. He looked down towards her.

“I need to sleep, I can’t do that right now,” he mumbled as he climbed over her to lay down on his side of the bed. She nodded as she opened her arms. He stared towards her, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Come here,” she mumbled as if it was the most obvious thing. He rolled his eyes as he leaned towards her, pressing his lips against hers for a few seconds. “Lay down,” she mumbled. He took a deep breath as he dramatically rolled onto her body.

He moved his legs between hers, getting comfortable. He tucked his arms around her body as she slowly began to run her fingers along his bare back. She watched as his body tensed under her touch. Her hand slowly glided up his skin, into his wet hair, rubbing her fingers along his scalp. He hummed as he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck. He pressed his lips against her skin for a few seconds.

“I love you,” he whispered into her ear as she continued running her hand up and down her back. “Thank you for not asking about it,” he mumbled, referencing the bad road trip they experienced.

“I love you too, whatever you need,” she mumbled. He hummed as he took a hold of the comforter, asking her to get underneath the blanket. She giggled as he rolled off of her, smirking. She climbed underneath the blanket at the same time as he did. He quickly manuvered to lay directly on top of her again, letting her scratch his back soothingly until he fell asleep on her body.

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes #luke hughes fanfic #jack hughes imagines #nhl imagines #nhl #nhl x reader #hockey #nhl fic #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes #nj devils #new jersey devils x reader #new jersey devils fic

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meaningofaeons · 1 year

Text

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ emotionally unavailable p.2

⊹ character(s) - gepard landau, jing yuan, sampo koski ⊹ word count - 5.6k ⊹ notes - gn!reader (gepard, sampo), fem!reader (jing yuan, reader is referred to as 'lady'), emotionally constipated/stoic reader (but you're warming up a bit ;), confessions, fluff, love, mushy stuff! ⊹ part 1 here!

sorry this took so long !! (=´ᆺ｀=) really thought I'd have it out sooner, but I wanted to make sure it was planned and edited this time. hope you all like! and please do point out any mistakes, I know sometimes I mix up the gn pronouns with she/her so lemme know if there's any of that （ฅ＾・ﻌ・＾）ฅ

⊹ Gepard Landau

Ever since you and Gepard spoke that day, Serval had been seeing more of you around the workshop.

Rather than lounging as per your nick-namesake, however, you were frequently speaking with Gepard when he was around.

That, or you were at her desk asking when he'd be around.

It was a far cry from your former indifference for sure.

Sure, you weren't overly enthused or anything at the prospect of seeing him, but...

Serval could definitely see the gleam in your eye when you questioned about her brother.

You weren't alone in your affection, either.

The eldest Landau hadn't failed to notice the consistently at which Gepard asked about you, too.

Even though there were reports of Fragmentum corrosion being on the rise and more monsters to keep at bay, things that usually stressed the Captain out, he was in shockingly high spirits

It seems your presence was beneficial to his stress and mood.

Over time, you mellowed out a bit from your usual stoicism as well

You were more inclined to joke and be more open with Serval and Gepard both, though you still retained a bit of your standoffish nature.

This didn't mean you magically became an extrovert—Aeons knows you still treated other people just as coldly.

But to the Landaus at least, things were turning up.

You weren't running into their arms with warm salutations ready for an embrace, but at the very least, you spoke more.

Not to mention, you'd taken on a new hobby—teasing poor Gepard.

It wasn't really your fault, in your defense. He was just too easy, and his blushing cheeks were admittedly cute amusing to see.

Gepard, in spite of your embarrassing new pastime, would often count the hours, minutes, down to the seconds until he could head to the workshop and see if you were around

On the days you weren't (increasingly rare nowadays), it was quite obvious how he'd deflate. But he'd still wait around a little while longer for you

And when you were there? He'd light up immediately.

It's as if you could see the tail wagging behind him—he's like a giant golden retriever.

Eventually, it got to the point where he figured it was about time he confessed how he actually felt about you.

Serval, of course, encouraged and offered to wing-woman for him as she had done before, but he adamantly refused

As much as Gepard appreciated his sister, he wanted to do this himself.

He would find himself practicing singing, drawing, anything artistic he could do to show his affections for you.

It was an earnest, honest-to-good effort, but let's be honest—he's not the best at most artistic pursuits.

Eventually, he settled for a poem (the farthest he could get artistically without completely flubbing it) and a bouquet of the flowers that brought you two together in the first place—Ball Peonies.

He put it off for a few days out of nervousness.

Okay, no, a few weeks. Let's not kid ourselves, he had to buy a few bouquets since they kept withering (thankfully, that Silvermane Guard Captain salary is good!)

Finally, the day came.

Gepard shifted from one foot to the other, a habit of his when anxious. In battle, one always had to be on their toes. Though the matter ahead of him was far from a fight to the death on the front lines, it was a struggle nonetheless.

The brain's fight-or-flight response unfortunately didn't care to discriminate between a war with monsters and a nerve-wracking confession.

Maybe you weren't coming today.

No, no. Serval mentioned you had to swing by. You had an appliance giving you trouble, and she'd fixed it up and prepared it for delivery today.

His sister provided this opportunity for him. He couldn't back down!

However, as soon as sky blue eyes spotted your approaching figure, Gepard had to physically grab hold of his own arm to ground himself and prevent himself from running away.

He settled his anxiety as much as he could by hiding the flowers behind his back instead.

"Gepard?"

No going back now! You'd seen him!

His brain was in overdrive, and he found himself fending off trembles, face already going red. Aeons, he hadn't even gotten a single word out yet!

"That's me."

Okay, good, he'd gotten the first words out no problem.

"I thought you had patrol today. It's good to see you."

"G-Good to see you too!"

And there it was. A stutter, followed by a voice crack on the last word. The poor blonde man could've easily sank into a hole and withered away at that moment, but you only raised a brow, oblivious to his internal misery.

"Well, are you coming inside? I need to pick something up, and then I'm off. Sorry I can't stick around, especially since you're off duty for once."

"Y-Yeah, I'm coming. And it's okay!"

Gepard was far too caught up in his own gut-wrenching anxiety to notice the way you had rushed through your normally-casual sentences. Though your tone was the same, the slightest, most imperceptible tremble flitted after your every word.

When you entered, Serval was nowhere to be seen. You assumed she was in the back, and thus went to pop in and check, but as you did that, said woman snuck past and headed for the door, mouthing at her brother.

'Don't! Back! Down! Now!'

He swallowed thickly as she vanished, ducking outside to hide and await Gepard's long-overdue confession to you.

"Hm. Doesn't seem she's here. Maybe an errand..."

"Y/N!"

You raised a brow, leaning on the counter. "I'm right here, Gepard. No need to shout."

"Right! Right... Um! I just wanted to... I just... Err..."

"You alright? You're burning up, and I haven't even prodded at your singing or drawing today."

Those words only made the flare-up of his cheeks worse.

"I'm fine!" His voice had only increased in volume, and you winced. Your eyes flitted to the clock, and you sighed, taking a deep, shaky inhale.

Shift starts in a few minutes. I can always get the heater later, but... this is now or never.

Before Gepard could continue his train of thought, you interrupted, pulling out a small tin canister and slid it towards him on the counter. His ramblings cut short, he could do little more than stare down at it, calming down amidst his confusion.

"...This is?"

"Well..." you trailed off, glancing away and crossing your arms. Though Gepard was sure your expression was the same, pensive and uninterested, you adamantly hid it from him. "I didn't really know what else to get you."

...Huh?

"I could've gone for flowers, sure, but I guess they didn't seem very appropriate for you. You'd have no use for them."

Oh, but he would place them in the nicest vase money could buy, and stare at them for hours on end every day, thinking about the fact that it was you who brought them to him. No use? What nonsense.

"Then I thought chocolates, or maybe some other sweet, but I didn't know if you liked that sort of thing. I'm sorry I never asked."

What did you have to be sorry for? He'd eat anything you offered up, even if it were burnt or poisoned. And he'd accept it with the biggest smile, content in the fact that you had carefully worked on it for him.

"So, well, this seemed the most practical. Armor polish... for you. Keep up that 'Captain of the Silvermane Guards'-grade armor, and everything..."

Were he any less trained as a soldier for battle, Gepard could've shed a tear. Closed off, stoic, standoffish, yet you still remained the most considerate person he'd ever met.

He took the canister in one hand delicately, as if it were the most precious thing he'd ever touched, and then glanced up at you. A million words of gratitude and devotion were ready to spill from his lips all at once, but his brain fizzed out and he could manage but one.

"Why?"

You sighed deeply, the grip you had on your arm tightening.

"...ike you."

"...Huh?"

"I..." your voice increased in octave, but it fizzled out again at the end. "...eally... you."

"Y/N—"

"I really like you. There." With how loud you projected the words, anyone would assume you were confident and calm with their delivery, but your voice again contained the slightest timbre of anxiety beneath it. Still, with those firm eyes, you turned to look at him, confessing the thing he had taken weeks to even consider bringing up.

Perhaps, though, it had taken you weeks as well.

Gepard was silent, stunned into complete rigidity at your words. You knew he could be awkward, but the reaction he held only furthered your uncertainty, and you eventually turned to leave, somewhat dejected.

Before you could take even one step, though, a gloved hand took your arm as gently as possible, and Gepard was red and sweltering as if he'd just ran a marathon in full uniform to catch you.

"Wait! Wait!"

"Gepard, it's fine if you don't—"

"No, no! I like you, too!" Your confidence gave the Captain the boost he needed to finally blurt out the words, shoving the Ball Peony bouquet towards you. "I swear! That's, um... That's why Serval had me come by today."

It was your turn to be shocked—so shocked, in fact, that you didn't even bother to curse Serval out for setting you up like this.

Still, as Gepard slid his hand down to clasp your own, you couldn't bring yourself to feel too much enmity towards her.

"Um... If it's okay, do you want to go to dinner tomorrow night, then...?"

You tried to hide your delight as best you could.

"...Tomorrow night sounds nice."

Gepard, however, could not hide his.

⊹ Jing Yuan

It only took that one night of trickery, that one moment of Jing Yuan catching you hook, line, and sinker, for a routine to develop.

The General immediately took advantage of your acceptance and took you to the nicest restaurant the Xianzhou Luofu had to offer (and the most expensive, of course, much to your dismay).

As promised, he got his paperwork done on time.

But it wasn't more than a few days before he began slipping again.

Napping around his office, playing chess with Yanqing instead of working...

As soon as you got on his case again, you could see in the way his brow quirked that his mind was quick at work to justify himself.

Then, a wry smile had appeared—one you were both begrudgingly fond of and vehemently annoyed by.

"Well, Lady Y/N, go out to dinner with me again tonight and I promise to have my work done."

And so developed an unlikely routine—as long as you went to dinner after working hours, Jing Yuan would have his paperwork complete.

Of course, there were a few times when he slipped.

But whenever this happened, you vanished from the Seat of Divine Foresight before he could even awaken, and he found that the absence of your presence was punishment enough.

So now, him skimping his work was a rare occurrence. Even Yanqing was surprised.

"General, you've been a lot... busier, lately."

"Only as busy as I'm meant to be, my boy."

Golden eyes were immensely suspicious, and those same eyes watched the General in your presence carefully.

"...It's Lady Y/N, isn't it?"

Jing Yuan choked.

Even still, you'd be lying if you said you weren't enjoying the routine as well.

It was a win on both counts—you get a nice, expensive meal, and Jing Yuan also stops skipping important work!

Surely, it wasn't also a win to spend more time with the General. Surely...

He was still as cheeky as ever, though, especially now that you'd caved to his whims and spent more time with him.

Sometimes, he'd try to pass you alcohol and convince you to drink with him.

Of course, this was with the sly intention of getting you to open up and drop that stoic façade.

It never really worked.

Either you refused, citing work, didn't get drunk enough to become loose-lipped...

Or, in one instance, actually drank the General of the Luofu himself under the table.

Needless to say, you never did that again. Not only did you gain nothing but a raging hangover, the people of the Luofu who were present in the bar wouldn't shut up about it for weeks.

The rumors were even more ridiculous!

Though, you did gain something to tease Jing Yuan about, for once.

Dinner eventually turned into dinner along with a small walk together afterwards.

It took a lot of convincing and taking on extra work for Jing Yuan to get you to agree to the latter.

It was nice, though. Not only were you out in the fresh air, but you were free of the somewhat guilty burden of having the General paying for all your meals out of pocket.

Still, one day... he seemed different.

"General—"

"Lady Y/N—"

You both paused mid-sentence, cutting each other off. However, it was you who ultimately remained silent, gesturing for the man to continue.

Jing Yuan seemed... uncharacteristically nervous today. Was nervous even the right word for it? Perhaps it was, seeing as how his one visible eye darted back and forth.

Strange.

He cleared his throat loudly, reaching out a hand.

"I was only going to ask if you were ready to head to our usual dinner arrangement. I've made reservations."

Well, that was even more strange.

"General, you've never asked me before. You've just dragged me along. Are you feeling well?"

Despite your concern, you still accepted his hand just as naturally as always, allowing him to move your hand into position so that you were holding onto his arm. The first time he'd done this, you had recoiled, embarrassed at the proximity, but now, it was just as routine as your near-nightly dinner dates.

Dates? Were they dates? You pushed the thought as far away from your head as you could to avoid any red flush potentially springing to your cheeks.

"Of course I'm well." Jing Yuan only chuckled mildly, not meeting your gaze. "Shall we be off?"

You eyed him, but nodded slowly. On the way to the reserved seats, you began cautiously.

"...If you slacked off on your work and are trying to hide it from me..."

Honey-gold eyes met yours with a slight measure of surprise, and before you knew it, the General was laughing. A low, rumbling, and comforting sound that emanated from deep within his chest. It caused the dam you held to keep your cheeks from going red to burst.

"W-What did I say?!"

"Nothing, my dear... Absolutely nothing," he chuckled, wiping an imaginary tear. As much as the sight irked you, it also caused you to breathe a small sigh of relief.

He didn't seem as anxious any more.

"I was just a bit surprised."

"Well, I wouldn't be..." you grumbled. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Jing Yuan's smile turned crooked. "Come, now. I think I've been doing rather well at holding up my end of the deal. How long has it been since I last shirked my duties?"

"One week."

Your unimpressed response had his laugh turn nervous, but not in the same way as before. He glanced away at your dagger-like stare, murmuring some sort of excuse before giving up at the squeeze you gave his arm.

"I would say I've been doing well overall, though."

You acquiesced with a sigh. "That you have, General. Better than before, at least."

"Well, that is high praise. Coming from my poker-faced Lady Y/N, I'd have thought it'd take ten decades of work to satisfy your standards and achieve a compliment such as that."

You only grumbled in response, eliciting another laugh from your General.

So caught up in the conversation were you that it took you being seated in a private room to realize where you were.

"...This is where you first took me."

"Correct," Jing Yuan smiled, a hint of unease in his features as he fiddled with something beneath the table. "I thought it'd be appropriate."

"For...?" you trailed off, trying to recall if there was anything special happening today. "Did I forget a holiday?"

"No, no. I'll tell you later, Lady Y/N."

"Very well, General," you sighed, making your choice and setting your menu down. Surprisingly, a comforting silence filled the air until the attendant came to collect both of your orders, and even after that. Minutes passed, and the silence was now... less comforting.

Something was definitely off. By now, the General would be talking your ear off about something—whether informing you about his latest trickery with his and Yanqing's games of chess or teasing you for your uptightness in the latest meeting, he'd have something to say.

But Jing Yuan just sat there, smiling down at his hands, still fiddling. You eventually had enough, clearing your throat.

"...So, are you going to tell me why today is significant for this restaurant?"

The man jumped—did he jump? Did the famous General Jing Yuan just jump over a mere question from his advisor?—and paused, clearing his throat again. You had noticed he was doing that quite a lot this evening.

"Well, I should get it out of the way, shouldn't I? No use dwelling on it any longer, haha..." Finally, he extracted the item he had been messing with, sliding a small velvet box across to your folded hands. "Here you go, Lady Y/N."

"And just what is this?" you eyed it, then raised a brow. A small trinket from one of his expeditions, perhaps? But you weren't much of a collector or anything...

"Just open it."

"Very well." You paused momentarily, but slowly pulled the box towards yourself, pushing up the little hinged lid. In an instant, your hands clapped it back shut, your face turning thousands of shades of red.

Jing Yuan, while still anxious, found himself chuckling as he fiddled with the hem of his sleeve.

"General," you whispered harshly. "Is this some kind of joke?!"

"Well, I'd hope not, considering that little trinket cost me a fair chunk of my prior paycheck."

"General Jing Yuan, I'm being serious!" You were sweating bullets, trying to reign in your flustered state. "Explain yourself!"

The man cleared his throat again, and finally began to lay out his reasoning.

"You see, Yanqing was just getting so terribly tired of hearing me talk about you. In his words, 'You need to do something about it before I go insane, General.'" Jing Yuan was rambling. "So I went to a local jeweler and tried to find something nice, but none of them quite suit you the way I wanted. Then, I figured I should commission something, and—"

His rambling speech had given you time to process just slightly, just enough to cut him off and pose your own question.

"Are you proposing to me?"

Jing Yuan coughed.

"Well, I figured since we'd been to dinner together so many times—"

"—as General and his advisor!—"

"—but if you'd like to start with the label of dating, I'm perfectly fine with slowing it down to that. We do have nothing but time, after all."

You were about to shout some more, say anything, but the sight of Jing Yuan's somewhat flushed cheeks had you reeling, stunned into silence.

He was serious.

The General glanced up at you through his bangs.

"You don't have to give me your answer right now. But I'd be delighted to see you at least try the ring." And oh, when he beseeched you with those pleading eyes, how could you even think to say no?

You hesitantly opened the box, unable to fathom what was happening. In your state, you hadn't noticed Jing Yuan move to your side, taking your hand gently in one hand and the ring in his other.

"Allow me."

Tenderly, carefully, Jing Yuan slid the ring onto you. It fit like a glove, and you couldn't even think to wonder how he got your ring size down to a T. He gazed into your eyes with such adoration that you felt your brain going to mush.

"...It's lovely," you stammered. The General smiled.

"You're lovely."

Surely, the situation was about to escalate into something more.

An embrace? Possibly... a kiss? Just as you felt the very distinct possibility of your eyes fluttering shut in anticipation, the door to your private dining hall was slid open.

"I have the orders for one General Jing Yuan and one Lady Y/N—"

The waitress stopped short, eyes wide at the proximity between you and the General. Then, her eyes fell to your hands, the ring—

"Wait—"

"Ma'am, it's not—"

"Please forgive me! I'll leave you be!"

Without giving either of you even a moment to explain, the now beet-faced woman dashed away, shocked out of her poor mind. You exhaled shakily, and then whipped your head around as Jing Yuan laughed boisterously.

"General! The rumors!"

"Oh, they always spread some rumor or another. It's happened since we first started this little routine, and it won't cease now. But if you aren't interested, I will always happily have them dispelled."

You huffed another sigh, glancing away.

"...Who said anything about me not being interested?"

It was Jing Yuan's turn to be stunned, but he recovered annoyingly quick, immediately wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him.

"Really now? Well, I'll take that as your acceptance of my proposal. I will be stuck to your side from here on out."

"I'm accepting the dating proposal, not marriage, General!"

"For now."

"General!"

⊹ Sampo Koski

The man who formerly avoided Natasha's clinic like the plague out of intense fear for Wildfire's motherly leader now found himself frequenting the joint more than the Fight Club.

Who would've guessed?

Well, you might've.

Ever since your run-in with the infamous Sampo Koski only a few weeks prior, it seems he'd made it his personal mission to only appear when you were working.

Of course, you only really worked night shifts, and Sampo was quite the night owl himself, but who's counting?

He still annoyed you to Hell and back.

The only edge you really had over him was when Natasha was in, helping you with the patients.

Sampo would stare at you from outside the window like a puppy left out in the rain—you could practically hear the whines and see the sad droop of metaphorical ears.

Natasha always knew he was by, and she'd always tease you about it, so in a way, you were both now avoiding her.

"Y/N... Your ol' buddy Sampo Koski got himself a booboo! Won't you fix me up?"

"Get lost."

"But it really hurts!"

"That's a flesh wound. Here's some ointment. Scram."

"Ouch! You're as cold as ever... Your words sting more than this egregious injury..."

A small, tiny voice inside your head was always thankful that he was never really as injured as he exaggerated, but he still found ways to negate even that tiny bit of mercy you held for him with his antics.

Usually, he'd just swing by to hop around you and ask for attention.

Really, he didn't want anything more than a few words from you or a few minutes of your time, but you didn't have much of either to spare with your work.

To catch your eye, he'd try to ham up his pain, but it never really worked.

A bandage there, an ointment there.

Sampo never failed to notice how you would always entertain those requests at least, giving him what he needed to care for himself.

Though he did long for your tender loving care again. Even if it meant being on the receiving end of your unimpressed stares.

Then, there was the time he asked for you to kiss his wound better.

That earned him a harsh clobbering to the head.

While you hated the distraction Sampo brought while you were actively trying to cure real patients, he wasn't all bad if he came at a good time.

Not that you'd ever admit it, though.

You'd given him enough ground with your little "For me" comment last time, and he'd never let you forget it as long as you lived.

When you were packing up your supplies and getting ready to trade shifts with Natasha, it was kind of... nice to see him around.

He'd bring you small doohickeys and trinkets from his latest scams expeditions, or talk your ear off about his adventures.

Scratch the dog analogy.

Sampo was more like a crow, squawking your ear off and delivering small, seemingly-insignificant, shiny treasures.

Somehow, his unending positivity and boisterous attitude was a nice contrast to the dreary place you were stuck in.

You were begrudgingly—with harsh emphasis on that word—becoming fond of Sampo Koski.

You weren't sure if this was a good thing.

"Y/N!"

You heaved a sigh, stretching out your weary limbs as Sampo came barreling into the clinic, thankfully uninjured. You kind of wanted to hit yourself for thinking of that first, rather than how obnoxiously loud he was being, but you digressed.

It seemed as though ever since your little run-in with him while he was badly wounded, he had taken your demand to stay out of harm's way to heart. Now, he rarely got anything more than a small bleeding cut or a sizeable bruise.

"How many times do I have to remind you to be quiet in the presence of my other patients? They're sleeping, Koski."

"Some things never change! Just like your painfully frostbite-y words, Y/N~"

You only grunted at that, collecting your tools and cleaning off your table. You always did like to leave Natasha with a neat workspace when she arrived.

"Sooo, I was thinking..."

"Sampo Koski, thinking? The Overworld must be crashing down on our heads as we speak."

"Yeesh, uncalled for..." the man grumbled, his energy bouncing back fast, though. "Let me take you somewhere nice. Think of it as a reward for working so hard and helping me out so many times, yeah?"

You raised a brow at that, and the conman clasped his hands together, that familiar grin sneaking onto his lips.

"After all, Sampo Koski always repays his debts! Never leaves a friend hanging!"

"You know the clinic's services for mild cases are free, right?"

"That generous heart of yours just makes me swoon, Y/N! But I can't possibly let you do me all this kindness without doing something in return!"

You sighed raggedly. "If this is you roping me into one of your scams..."

Sampo slapped a hand over his heart and clasped his chest as though mortally wounded. "You wound my poor soul, my heart, Y/N! Would 'lil old Sampo really do that to you?"

Your utterly deadpan glance sent him into nervous chuckles as he amped up his attempts to get you to come along.

"Come now, Y/N! You can trust me! Just this once, and if I wrong ya, you can toss me to the automatons! Honest to goodness!"

You were already yanking on your coat to follow when he crossed his finger over his heart as if to swear his undying allegiance to getting you back in one piece, sweeping past him out the door and grumbling something about being in your right mind to toss him to the robots anyways. The Sampo Koski looked a bit stunned at that, staring at you from within the clinic with wide emerald eyes.

"Well? Are you going to lead me there or no?"

"Ah, yes! Of course!"

Shockingly, it didn't take long to get to where the conman wanted to go. You had to duck past a few bots and avoid a few Fragmentum monsters, but really, that was every day in a place like the Underworld.

Yet, the bright glow of the huge Geomarrow vein caught your eye at once, sending you into awed silence.

Sampo smiled at that, dragging you along by the arm to a better vantage point. You stared up, admiring the rare beauty in a place as dreary as the Underworld.

As a doctor, especially an assistant to the only other doctor in the whole of the Underworld, you didn't really get the opportunity to go out and explore much beyond Boulder Town. Sure, there'd be patients you had to go to that couldn't make the distance to the clinic, but they were rarely beyond the walls of town.

The sight before you was truly something magnificent. Something you had never seen before.

"Well, like it?" Sampo nudged your arm, snapping you out of your trance as he grinned at you. "Told you it was cool! Thought you could use some time out of that stuffy clinic."

"It's..." You didn't quite know what to say. Words escaped you as you glanced between Sampo and the marvel of mineral. "It's really something. You weren't lying."

Even though you were too awed to realize you had admitted to his truth, the man beside you still hooted with laughter at his 'victory'.

Only when his joyful whoops calmed down did you manage to fully tear your eyes away from the sight, looking over to see Sampo trying to fiddle with something in his pocket.

"Sampo?"

The man jumped, and if you were any more alert to his antics, you would've assumed he was plotting something. However, he only hid his hands behind his back, beaming.

"What's up?"

"...Thank you."

The words were quiet, begrudging, but you managed them anyways. You expected immediate feedback from your so-called friend, only to be met with thick silence. You once again called his name, and he once again jumped.

"What's the matter with you? You've not got something criminal planned, do you?"

"Nope, Sampo Koski is always loyal to his word!" His chuckles were nervous, contradicting his statement. Just as you raised a brow and were about to speak up, however, he handed you a small chain.

"Haha, almost forgot!" Lie. "I had this for ya, too."

The item was placed in your hand before you could even protest, and you nearly leapt in shock when you realized what it was, were it not for your ability to keep on your stoic disposition.

A beautifully crafted, decorative Geomarrow wrist cuff sat in your palm, a nice rustic design to it that would compliment your outfit, surely. It looked more expensive than everything you owned combined.

"...Sampo—"

"See, an old buddy of mine owed me a favor from way back when. He's a jeweler nowadays, not super useful here, but I got my hands on a chunk of Geomarrow and he worked his magic! Cool, huh?"

"Sampo—"

"And that chunk isn't stolen, no siree bob! Got it completely legitimate this time! Paid out of pocket!"

"Sampo, are y—"

"It wasn't easy, but—"

"Sampo!"

The man finally stopped rambling, pausing to glance down at you with wide eyes.

"Haha, erm, yes, my dear Y/N?"

You would've felt your face flush—in fact, you were still actively staving off the heat to your cheeks—but you had to get one question out of the way first, a hardened expression on your face.

"You stole this, didn't you?"

"No!" Sampo's insistence was so adamant that it sent you aback. "Didn't you hear what I said? Honest, I didn't steal! Not a single part of the process was made with thievery or swindling! 'Cause you don't like it, and I wasn't about to confess in a way you don't like—"

"Confess?"

The conman stopped short, scratching his cheek and whistling inconspicuously, glancing anywhere but you. You weren't having much better luck with maintaining eye contact.

You glanced down at the cuff again, reluctantly sliding it on, but unable to deny how much you were taken by it. It was also the only way to distract yourself from the shock you felt, from the warmth now prominently displayed in your cheeks.

"So... yeah. Um. I did this all. For you. To confess, 'I love you' style and all of that, if that's how ya want to put it..."

"That's how you put it."

"Can you have some mercy on my poor heart?! Sampo's trying his best here!"

At that, you snorted. Then, you giggled. Eventually, you devolved into shaky, small laughter, chuckles that couldn't be hidden even by your typically impassive countenance.

For the first time in his life, Sampo found himself utterly dumbstruck. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, in a trance as he listened to your laughter, as sweet as the chime of a bell.

To Hell with confessions and acceptance, the man was fairly certain he could die happy just hearing such a sound and seeing such a look on your face. Even if you were laughing at the notion of him being in love with you, Sampo was confident he couldn't care less.

And then, for the second time that evening, the conman was struck speechless.

"Well... fine. I suppose I can graciously accept your feelings and your heart, Sampo Koski."

His eyes lit up like the Overworld sun.

"But only if you stop getting hurt. Period."

It wasn't enough to extinguish the light in his eyes, but it was enough to get him to droop, slinking over and hanging off your shoulder pathetically with a pout.

"Aw, then how am I going to see you?! Sampo Koski needs his Y/N time, or he'll be lost! I'm lost without you!"

It took everything you had not to clobber him—but this time, you were sure that twinge of annoyance was strong-armed aside by pure fondness.

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