Tumpik
#reader insert
une-femme-de-lettres · 2 days ago
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Imagine Ghost giving you after care
He’s rough with you but as soon as you’re both done, spent and panting in bed, his demeanour changes drastically. He’s so caring it makes your heart melt every time. He helps you up from the bed and into the bathroom. Your legs are trembling from the sheer amount of pleasure you just got from him fucking you so rough.
He dampens a towel in hot water that he carefully passes in between your legs to wipe you clean. He does this a few times, rinsing and dampening the towel again each time. The heat feels amazing against your sore flesh, he does it so gently too.
“Alright, last one and we’re going back to bed, you’re barely holding up on your legs,” he announces in a quiet voice, letting his lips brush against your ear.
“Feels good…” you speak in a soft breath.
“Yeah, I bet it does,” he says with a chuckle, finally draping the towel over the edge of the sink and grasping you tighter as he feels you slowly lose balance. “Come on, Love, you need to go to the loo,” he adds, thinking about it last minute.
“Let’s go back to bed,” you whine, eager to just feel him against you as you slowly fall asleep in the remnant bliss of your orgasm.
“After you’ve gone, come on,” he urges you, his voice still so gentle and quiet.
“I don’t want to,”
“Well you don’t want the consequences of not going either, yeah?” he responds, finishing to convince you. Right…
“Fine.”
“Good girl.”
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tuxstew · a day ago
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prompt ✧ their love languages
characters ✧ scaramouche, zhongli, venti, xiao, aether, kazuha
warnings ✧ gn!reader, none!
authors note ✧ i may do this with haikyuu characters too
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SCARAMOUCHE
giving
✧ quality time.
he really knows no other way to show his love and affection for you other than spending time with you. he enjoys your presence and constantly seeks it out, this lets you know how much he likes you. you know he hates spending unnecessary time with people he doesn’t like (which is everyone but you) , so whenever he asks for your company, it makes you smile.
“there you are, i was looking for you.”
receiving
✧ words of affirmation + physical touch.
whenever you compliment him on absolutely anything, it never fails to make a bright blush spread to his cheeks. the same goes for whenever you hug or kiss him unexpectedly. he always says something snarky when you touch him in a loving way, but never makes a move to pull away or move you. eventually he’ll even lean in further to the warmth and comfort you bring him.
“archons, you can’t go one minute without throwing yourself back into my arms again, can you?”
ZHONGLI
giving
✧ gift giving + words of affirmation.
whenever the two of you go on dates, you’re always met with some sort of gift (not too expensive) and a sincere compliment. he always praises you when you do well on something, no matter how little it is, and smiles warmly at you. his words and gifts always make you blush, and you repay him with a chaste kiss.
“here love, this is for you. you look beautiful, as always.”
receiving
✧ quality time.
he loves spending time with you, but he loves it more when you seek out his company or make plans for the two of you. he finds it so utterly charming whenever you walk around town, going to all his usual hang outs, just to find him and spend the day with him. it makes his heart flutter and his stomach twist.
“you were looking for me? oh, i’m sorry dear, i didn’t realize.”
VENTI
giving
✧ physical touch.
cannot get enough of snuggling into your arms, or wrapping himself around you. he finds so much comfort in the warmness you bring and constantly has to have his skin touching yours. is totally clingy, and isn’t ashamed about it. he’ll shamelessly hang on you in public, kissing you and mumbling something about not caring if anyone sees.
“so what if they’re staring? i’m not ashamed. i’ll shout how much i love you to the sky’s if i have to.”
receiving
✧ physical touch.
he’ll love it if you’re just as clingy as he is. you two are basically inseparable, you’re always right there next to him wherever he is. you can’t count the amount of times you’ve gotten him out of trouble or dragged him home drunk.
“cmon venti, let’s go home now.”
XIAO
giving
✧ acts of service + quality time.
he isn’t very good at expressing his emotions with words, so he does it with his actions. he’s constantly helping you with whatever you need, just say the word and he’s on it. with the need to be there to help or protect you, it means he’s almost always with you. he finds extreme comfort in your presence, and always makes a point to be with you multiple hours a day.
“do you need help? hold on, i’ve got it.”
receiving
✧ physical touch.
he adores when you sleepily wrap your arms around his waist or wrist, stopping him from leaving. he usually stays with you till you fall asleep, but sometimes you get clingy and ask if he’ll stay the whole night with you. when he agrees, which he always does, you’ll wrap your arms around him and snuggle your face into his shoulder. his arms hesitantly wrap back around you once he’s sure you’re asleep.
“wait xiao, please stay.”
AETHER
giving
✧ acts of service + quality time.
he likes to show off a bit and save you from monsters, so he usually lets you join him on his adventures. he makes sure you never get hurt, and if you ever do, he has a bag full of medical supplies at all times. he enjoys your company and likes being relied on.
“hey, wanna come with me on some commissions today?”
receiving
✧ gifts.
he loves when you give him gifts, especially clothes or little trinkets he can hook on bags or belts. he likes to show them off and have them visible. you usually have to end up getting something for paimon too, otherwise she’ll get jealous. and it’ll get even worse if aether were to brag about the gift to her when she didn’t get one.
“you didn’t get a gift? hah, i did. look, isn’t it the cutest? i can hook it on my belt and everything.”
KAZUHA
giving
✧ words of affirmation + physical touch.
he’s constantly writing you poems and reciting them to you with a fond smile on his face. the verses always have a series of compliments and things he likes about you in them. his words always make you blush, butterflies filling your stomach. he thinks it’s cute when you shy away from his gentle and loving touches. avoiding eye contact when he kisses your hand, just so he can grab your chin with his other and make you look at him once more.
“what’s that look for? did i fluster you?”
receiving
✧ quality time.
he likes watching your reactions to things, anything, so it’s nice when he gets to spend time with you. he teases a lot, always trying to gauge a cute expression from you (which is all of them in his eyes)
“you do know you’re the most beautiful being i’ve ever laid my eyes on, don’t you?”
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frogsbtw · 8 days ago
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missglaskin · a day ago
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Yan!Targaryen Men (Jacaerys, Daemon Blackfyre, Maegor, Aegon II, Viserys III) with servant!Darling 
Note- Originally there were meant to be more characters, but I couldn’t think of any other ideas for them and I didn’t want to risk being repetitive. Also I really hope this doesn’t get reported either 
Tags: EXPLICIT/SMUT, Coercion, Power dynamics, Implied noncon, abuse of power, forced marriage/relationship, semi-delusions, forced feeding, mentions of vomiting
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Jacaerys 
At the table where you are pouring wine for one of the lords. You felt a pair of eyes watching. Looking to see it’s the prince. Almost in awe, you see his brows rise and eyes widen. But it’s cut short when the lord shouts at you for overspilling the wine. You mutter your apologies all the while scrubbing the mess you caused. Feeling further flustered when the prince comes to your defense. 
He yearned for you. It was wrong, even dangerous and scandalous for the two of you. Still, you see him making his way through the crowd, through the halls searching for you. And when he’s finally face to face with you, there’s the awkwardness in not knowing what to say. It was almost endearing, in a way. 
Still, no matter how many times you try to push him away, Jace persisted. And not being able to truly deny him, you found yourself indulging in some of his desires. Keeping him in your company in which you hoped remained nothing more than a friendship. But it grew ever more difficult in seeing how he gazes upon you and the glares those close to you receive. 
Though there came a night right before the sunset where Jace brought you to the dragon pit. In what you assumed was to be an introduction to the dragon is followed by a hand guiding you on top of the said dragon. With the wind blowing in your face and the sunset view ahead, your nerves fade. Looking back, you see Jace's face inches from yours. He closes the distance, and you find yourself melting under his touch. 
Subtlety was not one of Jace's strongest traits. At feasts, dinners, meetings, his eyes hardly left yours. He left lingering touches such as when you come to pour his wine or when you pass him by the halls. Times, there are kisses exchanged in dark corners, one where you must pull away before praying eyes find you both. 
At his chambers, where only the night sky is your witness. Your bodies are tangled underneath the sheets. You whimper as his cock slowly fills you up. It being your first time made you feel as if he was splitting you open. Clutching him close and tight, as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. With every slow thrust, you adjust to his size. Moans slipping from your lips as the pleasure begins to numb your senses. 
In one of those nights. Marry me. Was uttered to your lips. There was a glimpse of confusion, but it was quickly overshadowed by the overwhelming pleasure. With his cock disappearing into your cunt. The sounds of skin slapping echoing as you bounce on him. Jace’s mouth moves to your chest, tongue making contact with the hard nubs. And then you hear the same words uttered once more. 
But as you stand in front of the septon. Your mind starts to race. There’s a look of panic in your eyes. Still, Jace ever so gently cups your cheek, saying his vows, even yours when the words cannot escape you. Holding hands with you, he walks you to his chambers or what he considers ‘ours’. And as the two of you consummate your wedding night, you only fear what his family would think.
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Daemon Blackfyre 
The first time he caught sight of you was when he was twelve. Participating in a squire’s tourney to which he won. Watching as the king bestows the steel sword on him. Only to have the crowd watch you as the just knighted Daemon places the crown of roses in your lap. In spite of being a bastard, Daemon's blood is still one of royalty. So imagine the shock when some commoner is crowned as the queen of love and beauty.
To make matters worse, you were a servant. Throughout your wanderings and tasks at the red keep, you rarely passed Daemon. But ever since the tourney, you try to conceal your surprise when seeing him stand in front of you. Simply nodding in greeting before rushing to leave his sight. Though over the years, you have grown accustomed to his presence. 
It was known that he was possessive of you. His mother and him were the only ones you served under. You were safe and well-protected. It didn’t matter to Daemon if it was a commoner, a knight or even a lord that tried to harm or seduce you. You were his. In Daemon’s eyes, you have already been claimed. Even when his gestures seemed helpful and sincere, you knew there will come a day where he’ll expect a favor in return. One quite so intimate. 
Daemon’s violet eyes often stare into yours. His gaze alone tells you of his interest, so piercing, as if he can see into your soul. It leaves you feeling so vulnerable. Still, you found yourself returning his gaze. His face etched with an amused smile in response. Struggling to keep your heart at bay as it pounds so mercilessly.
What starts as a hint of your intentions to one another becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Flusteredness is felt, but not so much of shock. Back pressed to the wall. At times, you envied his charmness, his way of luring you into his arms, into having your lips meet. And most of all, into luring you into his chambers. Like a sailor following the sirens into the deep sea, only to drown and never be seen again.
He saw it within his right to take your maidenhood. In claiming you that day, he came to claim your body and soul as well. In his chambers, the charmingness never left him. Those lips to which you feel trailing your skin. Whisper all sorts of confessions and praises. Further sinking you in his grasp. 
Seeing you in the halls, a smirk curls on his face, his hand briefly roaming your body as he did, all to remind you of the nights you spent together. Daemon proves that the blood of the dragon courses through him in his passion and aggression. With his desire to have you anywhere he can. Grown addicted to the way his cock slides in and out of you, the way you clench around him, the taste of you on his tongue. 
Daemon wanted to refuse his father’s arrangement to the Tyrosh. He desired you. Your place was on his side, as his wife. Daemon didn’t need the king’s promise for him to have a second wife. And when he was legitimized, fighting for his claim to the throne. Daemon declares that any man who speaks against you, makes a mention of your status and the children he hopes to share with you. They will face far worse than a tongue cut out.
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Maegor 
Keep your head down and do your duty. Was all you’re told when arriving at the castle and you did just that. The man you’re serving truly lived up to his reputation. Unleashing such a wave of violence rarely ever seen. As a matter of fact, the building you stand in saw no builders considering he killed every one of them. You were right to fear him, right to avoid him at all costs. But fate seemed to have other plans. 
You hated the feeling of being watched. But it wasn’t as if you could do anything about it. You felt it when you would remove the sheets from the bed, when you’d start his bath, when you would pour him his wine. There was a time where you dared to look, met with a pair of violet eyes. 
At first, you also served his wives. They paid no mind to your presence, as expected. But soon enough, you could feel their eyes watch your every move. There were all sorts of expressions on each of their faces. But it was Tyanna’s that filled you with fear. You didn’t know whether to feel relief when informed you are only to serve the king from now on. 
Deep down, you knew that the king, Maegor, had anything but good intentions for you. That not only he formed an interest in you, but in that he desired you. And when Maegor is driven by his desires, it wasn’t good for anyone involved. What you wanted to know is when he will fulfill these  said desires. 
Day by day, your duties dwindled to the point where you had nothing to do. Only when you are given your own chambers, do you realize what is truly happening. Wide eyes staring at the man that invites himself in-Maegor. Your hair stood on end as he towers over you—not in just height, but in his intimidating presence. Taken aback when his hands carefully undo your dress, allowing it to drop and gather around your legs.
There was hardly any prepping. But even if it was given, there's no way you can fully adjust to the sheer size of him. His fat cock stretching your hole with each thrust. His thrusts are hard and deep.It renders your mind to go fully numb and vision hazy as you cry out. The blunt head of his cock bruises your cervix, and you can feel the pressure of his broad hand on your tummy bulge.
He never wastes his seed. Squeezing your legs around his waist so his cock can fill you to the brim. The angle allows him to pound your sweet spot with ease. The sound of his hips snapping against your skin echoes throughout the dimly lit chambers. And when he reaches his high, dumping his hot load against your cervix. 
Maegor has shown again and again he has no care for what others think of him. He’s the dragon. His word is the law. The faith, the court, they can try but none will stop him from taking you as his wife. And when he finally presents an heir, there’s no care if his mother was a commoner. They had the blood of the dragon coursing through their veins. That’s all that matters.
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Aegon II 
Your first day already filled you with fear. As the rumors didn’t only reach your ears, but they were told to you. The prince being known to pinch or fondle any serving who strays within his reach. Already you felt his eyes on you, but dared to never look at him. Fearing that even a glance will spur him on. There was a relief in only seeing him during dinners and feasts. Until Dyana had to leave. 
No other servant wanted the task of cleaning his chambers. It was only morning you had to see him. The rest of your duties were done in his absence. They assured you. Still, nothing eased your nerves. All it took was one moment alone with the prince. It wasn’t necessarily what he would do to you that scared you. It was the aftermath. There was nowhere else for you to go, no other place to call home. 
True to their word, you only saw him in the mornings. Being as sneaky as possible and leaving safely every time. But in the end, you caught his attention. Normally, you would always clean the bath and leave just before his arrival, but on that particular day, the prince shows up a little early. The worst part of it all was your dress being tucked up to your knees to prevent getting wet. Heart hammering as soon as you saw his gaze on your bare legs. Your saving grace was the knight that entered his chambers and informed the prince he was needed.
For most of his life, Aegon has always gotten what he wanted, and he wanted you. And who could stop him? The knights who are meant to protect the innocent. The queen who was meant to care for the common alike. You had no titles, no lands, no castle. Your name had no value-you were of no value. So you didn’t fight the lips pressed roughly against yours. Didn’t resist when feeling the hands roam your body. 
This was a means of survival. They are to send you away the next morning, and what will be of you? So you allowed yourself to give into the pleasure. To forget the shame of it all. Aegon went still in your arms when you pulled him close to you, almost wrapping him in an intimate hug. Your fingers caressing his cheeks or stroking his silver hair. Even daring to smile at him, all while letting a tear slip down your cheek. 
To your relief, you weren’t sent away. But instead, your place was on his side. You did everything Aegon wanted. You kissed him where he wanted. You fucked him where he wanted. What once was your days spent running errands, is now waiting in his chambers for hours. Ending the night with your legs shaking, whines and moans shared between the two of you-having you spasming around his cock.
Rarely did you leave his chambers, but if you would. The jewelry that shined under the moonlight will catch the eyes of many. The dresses you adorned resembled the ones his sister wore, to replace the ‘filth’ -as according to him. But hardly did you wear them, the golden fabric on the floor as you lay bare in his bed. 
One day, Aegon asked if you loved him. A simple question, yet one that causes so much hesitancy and fear. You told him you did. And when the day came where you dressed him in his ‘king’s attire’ right before his coronation. To ease his nerves, he had you caged against the wall, pressing your slit with the tip of his cock, before pushing past your folds. Swallowing his ‘fantasy’ as he spoke on how he would take you as his wife-make you his queen.
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Viserys III
The second you stepped into your position, you were warned by the other servants of the man you will serve. To address him as you would do to a king. To treat him with the utmost respect and admiration. Anything less is an insult. Every word, every step, every task was done ever so carefully to avoid his wrath. 
Unfortunately, you are not free from his acts of cruelty. As your behavior was believed to be deserving of such treatment. And what was your act of crime? Plopping a fruit in your mouth. You were unaware of his presence, and he was already done with the food, meant to be taken to the kitchen. Still, it did nothing to subdue his rage, to punish you for ‘stealing’ from him. 
What you thought would leave you being scarred or worse sent to your death. Is instead experiencing something far more humiliating. Forced to eat every single thing on the table, tears streaming down your face as your stomach aches. Your pleadings fell to deaf ears and when you could no longer eat, the food was forced down your throat. Only for you to puke it all out. The voice of Viserys is heard as he demands you to clean up your mess.
The incident has been held over your head ever since. At every chance, you are reminded of what could have been your demise. You can see his sister’s pity, but she fears to utter a word. Then again, she had hardly been his target of wrath. That honor went to you. Becoming his plaything was what you believed to be a fate worse than death. 
Late at night as you run his bath, Viserys asks, no, demands for you to join him. And he doesn't give you a chance to speak before you feel the water seeping into your dress. A pair of hands holding your waist with your hands on his shoulder to support yourself. You gasp when you felt it. Something firm between your inner thighs. Yet you do not muster the willpower to fight it.
With Viserys, you are constantly reminded of your status. How you’re beneath him. There’s the lingering threat that at any moment, he’ll be rid of you. That he has no need for you. Yet almost every other night is spent in his chambers. 
Him pounding in and out of you mercilessly. Hips roughly pressing against yours. Watching your face contort to pleasure and the tears coat your eyes. The pad of his thumb presses against your lower lip when you bite it to hold on to the moans. Grunts and groans seeping out of his mouth on how your cunt belongs to him and only him. 
There’s him also pulling you on top of him, having you ride him as your life depends on it. Lower back gripped as he guides your hips up and down. It’s when you come from your high does he whisper of your shared future. When he will one day claim the iron throne. You pretend to close your eyes. But in that moment there and then, you realize he does indeed have a need for you.
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aokoaoi · 2 days ago
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: 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.
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⌯ two bestfriends, unaware of their romantic feelings for eachother. ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᶠᵒᵘʳ
⌯ pairing : shuri x fem!reader
⌯ warnings : wakanda forever spoilers. someone gets shot.
⌯ author's note : i apologize, again, if the script isn't accurate like what it said in the movie. i nay have made mistakes, but I'm trying to remember half the things that happened in the movie<\3 i currently don't have anything to rewatch wakanda forever on, so i can't watch what originally happened to make it more accurate. so like, just enjoy my own script for the meantime:)
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Staying inside the lab, watching as Nakia shuffle around the interior, trying to get some sort of signal from Shuri's kimoyo beads. The woman insisted for you to just take care of yourself when you suggested to help, saying that she'll do everything herself.
You were starting to doze off on the counter, your eyes feeling exhausted just following around Nakias movements. Until you heard Nakia yell, surprising you.
"Nakia���? Is something wrong?" You stood up hurriedly. The wakandan woman had already jogged towards you, looking at you with such delighted relief.
"I found a signal of Shuri's kimoyo beads. I found her, (name)!" She enthusiastically yells. You gasped out, grinning widely in relief.
"Oh God, you did it!" You cheered, engulfing the woman in a tight hug. She chuckled, caressing your hair slightly.
"I've got to go now. I've got a princess and an American to save." She pulled away from the hug, smiling at you reassuringly. You nod, wiping the small tears that roll off your cheeks.
"Be safe, please." You muttered worriedly, clutching her arm when she placed an arm on your shoulder. She only gave you a reassuring smile, nodding.
She gave you one last hug before she went off, leaving you alone in the lab yet again. You stayed inside, anticipating for the return of your friend.
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"This (name) person sound coooool."
Shuri and the American, Riri Williams were talking to eachother to cure their boredom while they're stuck literally in an underground cave of a literal ocean.
"She is." Shuri agrees, a fond smile on her face.
"Even when you're kidnapped, you still manage to talk about this girl like there's no tomorrow." Riri says, humming in amusement.
"Well there's alot to talk about her. She's interesting and a very supportive friend. Even my mother is very fond of her." Shuri states, shifting in her seat in a more comfortable position.
Riri squints her eyes at the girl, looking at her suspiciously with a brow raised. "Hmm.. you talk to her very fondly with a smile on your face.. you openly admit she's interesting.. your mother practically loves her as her own.. hmm.." Riri hums, humming suspiciously.
Shuri looks at her in confusion. "What? Why are you humming so much? And what's with that look on your face?" She questioned incredulously, chuckling slightly.
Riri tuts, shaking a finger at the princess. "I can't tell if you're really close. Orrr.." the girl trails off, adding Shuri with anticipation, wanting to hear what the girl wants to say.
"Or?"
"Or if you have romantic feelings with her." Riri shrugs. The princess looks at her, shocked by her words. "What—? No, that's ridiculous." She refuses the idea, shaking her head.
Riri frowned, looking disappointed. "Oh, come on. You gave her a necklace." The girl says, throwing her hands up exasperatedly.
"It's just a necklace?" Shuri hums, tilting her head to the side. Yes, she was purposely acting dumb. She's thought about her feelings for you for awhile now, but she's just in denial. It seems wrong.
What if she really does have romantic feelings for you and it's not just some bestfriend thing?
What if she admits her feelings for you? It will ruin what she haves with you. You both are already so close, confessing herself to you will probably ruin your friendship.
She didn't want to give up the friendship you both built for so long just because of her selfish feelings.
"The way your face softens just at the mere mention of her name though? You can't tell me that's just friends to you." Riri shakes her head, muttering a 'nuh-uh' as she shook her index finger side to side.
Shuri let's out a sigh, burying her face on the palm of her hands. "I don't know Riri. Sometimes I feel like I do like her." Riri applauded dramatically at that, but Shuri have her a scolding look, making the latter shut up immediately.
"There's a but, isn't there?" Riri whispered to herself, and the princess continued.
"But I feel like she doesn't feel the same way. And I don't want to make our friendship awkward when I do end up confessing and she doesn't feel the same way." Shuri revealed. The girl listened intently, nodding with a hum.
"I see. I think you should just tell her. I mean, mean there's a possibility that we're gonna go to war with ocean people, so why not just go fuck it?" The girl jokes, earning a light glare from Shuri. Riri clears her throat awkwardly, turning away from the princess' glare.
"I'm kidding. But seriously, if you truly like her, you should tell her. You've been friends for a long time now, right?" Shuri nods at her question, and Riri continues. "I'm sure she'll understand even if she doesn't feel the same. It's better to let your feelings free than keeping it hidden for a long time." Says Riri.
"And if she does like you back, boom! You scored, you can thank me if I make it out alive." Riri waved a hand dismissively, chuckling at Shuri's amused smile.
"Yeah.. I'm gonna come clean and tell her. If I get the courage to." Shuri admits, making Riri let our a cheer of enthusiasm. "Yaass, despite being abducted by ocean people, we out here talking about our love livess." Riri hummed, chuckling slightly before letting out a surprised yelp a shot rang through the air.
Shuri immediately stood up, looking around cautiously until she saw Nakia coming from behind a rock.
"No!" Shuri sprinted into action, coming in between Nakia and the Talocan woman who had been shot.
"Shuri." Nakia calls out. The princess looked at behind her, eyes wide at the wounded talocan woman. "Shuri, we have to go!" Nakia yelled, grabbing the princess' forearm.
"No– you don't understand, this'll cause a war!" The princess yells, distressed. In the midst of her distress, Shuri didn't realize she was slowly being dragged out of the scene, her eyes lingering on the wounded woman with Riri following right in suit.
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You almost jumped off your seat when you saw Shuri show herself just as she stepped inside the lab. The seat flew itself backwards at your action, thudding against the white marble counters behind you.
You embraced her tightly, wrapping your arms around the top of her shoulders, your body pressing against hers as she wrapped her arms on your waist, savoring the feeling of your scent and warmth before you pulled away.
"(name)."
You sniffed when you heard your name roll off her tongue, slightly pulling away to look at her. "You fucking idiot. Why did you keep this mission from me? Did you know how worried I was?" You sniffed out, your throat tightening up when you saw her apologetic face.
"I know. I'm sorry, dearest, I should've told you." She whispers, pressing a long kiss on the side of your forheads temples as you continued to loudly sniffle with your arms around her.
Shuri unwrapped her arms from your waist, a hand coming in contact with your cheeks. She stared down at you with such intense affection and guilt, it made your head spin.
"I'm here now, okay? I'm never leaving your side ever again. I promise." She whispered, pressing her forehead against yours, listening to your sniffles quietly. You just nodded your head, unable to respond from how you were helplessly hiccuping.
Your gaze then landed on an unfamiliar black girl standing far behind Shuri, looking at the interior of the lab awkwardly, as if she was purposely trying to avoid looking at the both of you.
You let out a small chuckle, making Shuri look at you in confusion and turn to where you were looking at. Now realizing where you were looking at, she manages a small smile to form on her face.
Her hand stayed resting on your waist, slowly guiding you to the American.
"(name), this is Riri." Shuri gestured to the girl, watching as she waved at you with a tight smile. "Riri already knows who you are though so I suppose introducing you to her is useless." Shuri says. Riri waves a hand dismissively, looking at the princess blankly.
"Of course. The princess couldn't stop talking about you, (name). Even when we were in the middle of an underground cave of the ocean." Riri tells you. You looked at the princess beside you incredulously, your brows furrowed as Shuri looked at Riri as if it said 'Shut up, girl'.
"You were held captive in an underground cave of an ocean?" You questioned the princess. She turned to you, giving you a reassuring look. "We're fine now, love. I'm back home now."
"I'm not." Riri perks up, her hand raised at the princess' words. Shuri glares at her, hissing at her to stop.
"What? I just wanted to feel included." The girl shrugged innocently, trying to hide her smiles. But it was hard to when your chuckles already filled the silence, making her instantly light up a smile as well.
Riri put her hand she was raising lower, waving it as she began to walk out of the lab, confusing you.
"Well I've got to go. Princess over there still has some things to tell for her 'dearest'." Riri says, looking behind at the two of you with a playful wink. The door behind her shuts as soon as she stepped out, and you glanced at the princess with a questioning look.
"That girl can't keep things to herself, I swear." Shuri mutters.
"What was Riri talking about?" You questioned the princess straight to the point. You didn't want her to keep anymore from you again, but if Riri knows, it's probably not that serious.
Shuri looks at you reassuringly, giving you a closed tight lipped smile. "It's nothing, love. I'll tell you soon, but right now, we've got somethings to prepare for." She says, her comforting aura replacing with something more serious.
"For what?" You questioned again, but this time you were concerned.
"A war."
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who ever created the new shuri gifs, ilysm, may I polish your shoes? part one, two, and three for you all who needs it<3
tagging : @faatxma @romanoftrash @liliana-byers @mikasadirtyscarf @morphomelody @5khannah @luxuriouslokistan-3 @kucingberkokok @aki-ham @skimm0nzz @your-fave-overthinker ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵃᵍ
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niklietwriting · 2 days ago
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Starlit Rules
Dating Vil Schoenheit comes with "rules" you imposed onto yourself for his sake. No public affection, no hand holding, nothing that can possibly ruin his reputation. 
You underestimated how romantic Vil could be with you.
Notes. Vil Schoenheit/GN! Reader, second-person point-of-view “you,” you are not Yuu, blossoming relationship, fluff, Epel is a minor character
~1.3k words
Thanks to my homie @epiphyllous​ for writing the summary for me. I wouldn’t be able to write without you.
It was hard to believe. Who would believe that? Who would believe that you, a regular student at Night Raven College, were dating popular actor and celebrity Vil Schoenheit? You couldn’t believe it either, actually, when you received a bouquet of eleven roses with a poem stating that the last one you would receive would be when the sender would ask you out on a date. You, at the time, had no idea who that could have possibly been from, and your friends teased you that it could’ve been from Vil Schoenheit. You had laughed because the thought was ridiculous. Sure, you adored him far before you came to the school, and the moment he saw you, he decided you were a pet project worth working on, and you’ve been by his side helping him where you could ever since… Maybe in hindsight, you should’ve realized that Vil was, at the very least, interested in you. 
And yet it still surprised you when Vil had approached you in private, single rose in hand, and he asked you out. “It hurts me how oblivious you are,” he had said, passing the rose into your hands. 
And as if to prove how dense you were, you had asked, “Uh, wait, that was you? You sent me the roses?”
“YES.” Vil had placed his hands on his hips and huffed in annoyance. “It’s not as charming when I’m finally asking you.”
You really thought it was some elaborate joke; that perhaps someone had created their perfect Vil disguise and you’re being pranked for some stupid video on Magicam. You had looked around, rather dramatically, looking for any hint of another person holding a camera or phone.
Vil clicked his tongue at you. “Now, why would I risk my reputation for a silly prank that would humiliate the both of us?”
And, after a rush of stammering and contemplating and honestly, you couldn’t even remember all the feelings that rushed into you, you realized that, yes, Vil Schoenheit did like you like that, and, yes, he was asking you out. You recalled that your face felt hotter than it ever had before and you had stared down at his shoes, holding the rose close to your chest. 
Vil had brushed some hair from your face, shocking you back into reality. He had let his hands trail down to yours and he held onto your hands, clasped around the rose, tightly. He reassured you that you didn’t have to come up with an answer so soon if you didn’t want to, and that he could tell that this information and this confession shocked you.
You had shaken your head to his suggestion, already coming to your decision in the time that your mind raced with every feeling and memory you had of him at that time. You had said yes.
And now you were dating Vil Schoenheit, popular actor and celebrity with over five million followers on Magicam. You were over the moon, and still completely in shock everyday when you remembered that the two of you were dating. “Remembered” being the key word here, as publicly (as in around the school where you followed him when you were free, as you always had) the two of you couldn’t do much romantically. At least, you thought so.
As you walked down the halls with Vil, you fidgeted next to him seeing his empty hand. Oh, how you wanted to hold it! But you couldn’t. You imagined what kind of horrible rumors and scandalous headlines would spread if you even showed an inkling of an actual romantic relationship with Vil, so you kept to yourself. Even when the two of you were in a private room (which wasn’t often, what a busy man Vil was!), you hardly did anything more than hug or Vil would kiss you lightly on the cheeks or forehead. All signs of affection were far and few between, but the two of you had barely started dating after all; it couldn’t be helped.
Still, you weren’t sure how you felt about all this. You wanted to shout to the world about your love for Vil, but you knew you couldn’t do that. As a celebrity, Vil had to worry about his public image at all times, and announcing that he was dating someone (or letting such information slip) would be social death, especially since the two of you just started dating. You had to keep to yourself for now, but the emotional toll was wearing you out.
You sat at lunch. Having finished a majority of your food, you just played with your juice box, feeling the rough ridges of the cardboard. It was a flavor of juice you didn’t like and had accidentally grabbed during the chaos of the lunch line (as it always was. Why didn’t anyone just grab their food normally and go?), so the juice was mostly full. 
“Hey, wake up. You listening?” Epel, who sat to your left, asked, having stopped his conversation with Rook to look at you after you were uncharacteristically silent for too long.
“Oh, yeah,” you lied, having already told him about your relationship, knowing he wouldn’t let any secrets spill. “I just took the History Exam. My brain is fried.”
Epel nodded in understanding and began complaining about the History Exam and the class as well, and you joined in on the jokes. You stopped momentarily when he nodded to the person approaching your table, and you turned.
“Hi, Vil!” You said in excitement, and possibly with too much excitement as you cursed to yourself, hoping it wasn’t perceived in a way to negatively impact Vil’s reputation.
“Hello, darling.” 
You tilted your head slightly, confused as to when Vil started calling you that. Was this the first time? It wasn’t like you didn’t mind it, but you thought it was strange to start using a pet name in public. But if Vil was using a pet name already, you wanted to come up with one to call him. “Oh, um, hello–”
Your thinking was cut short by a quick and innocent kiss to your lips, and Vil sat down, completely unbothered as he set down his tray and started eating.
You, absolutely hot and bothered, sat there with the same smile you greeted Vil with plastered on your lips, and your juice box laid in your left hand. Your face grew more and more heated, realizing what had just happened: your first kiss with Vil in public. You heard Epel gag in jest as you continued thinking about the feeling of Vil’s soft lips quickly pressing against yours. You felt eyes from other tables look your way. Then you truly realized what had happened: Vil Schoenheit had announced that he was dating someone, and that that someone was you.
Your juice box had no idea what was coming to it. 
You think you must have squeezed the juice box in a panic, because the next thing you knew you were being lifted by the collar by Epel, who smelled sickly of the juice you disliked. You were being shaken like a rag doll, and Epel was yelling at you, but you had no idea what he was saying. You let yourself be shook as your head rattled with the thoughts of the ramification of Vil’s bold declaration.
Eventually, Epel let you down as another, surprisingly kind, student helped get all the juice magic’d away from him, and you sat down next to Vil again. You looked up to him shyly, keeping a wobbly smile on your face, and he smiled back at you as he pulled you closer to him by the hip, then rested his free hand on your thigh as he continued eating.
Ah. You really were dating Vil Schoenheit. 
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brooooswriting · a day ago
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how about like badass biker! nat x reader where nat is a player and always sleeps around with different girls and nat flirts with reader also but it’s different she actually has feelings for reader and is in love with her same for reader and reader thinks they have something going but at a party she sees nat flirting with someone new and reader just storms out mad feeling like a fool to think nat was different with her but nat follows her out and confesses and says she’s in love with reader but shes just scared
Only you
Biker!Natasha x reader
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You knew Natasha, well everybody did, not only because you could hear her exhaust all thru the city but also because a) she and her friends were incredibly rich and b) she flirted (and probably slept) with like every girl that went to your club. But due to the fact that you mostly worked behind closed doors you never truly met, until 3 weeks ago.
Your bartender got sick so you decided to cover, it’s been a while since you stood behind the bar so you thought why not. It made you realize how much you missed this, the new people, the vibe, the happiness around the club.
When a certain redhead in leather jacket, followed by three men entered the bar you were quick to figure out who she was. Natasha Romanoff, Playgirl of the city, Steve rogers, her loyal buddy that was to nice for his own good, and Tony stark, playboy of the city.
“Hey, can we get three beers please?” Steve asked as he came up to the counter. “Right up” you said as you opened the beers and slid them over, he laid down some money nodding before going to the other man of the group. The redhead, unknown to you, was watching your interaction with the blonde, she’s never seen you here before and it made her curious about you, you were hot, there was no denying that.
“Hello pretty, I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. Are you new?” she smirked as she sat down on one of the chairs in front of the bar. “I’m just not behind the bar that often” you answered mixing a drink for the girl next to her. “Well, sadly, it’s a view I could get used to” you were laughing by now which confused her, it wasn’t a giggle or something like that, no you were clearly laughing about her and what she said. “Look, just because you’re good looking and rich, that doesn’t mean that everybody wants to be your toy” you told her openly which shocked her and the girl next to her.
“I- what - you” she clearly didn’t know what to say, as nobody has ever been that honest with her. “Aw, I’m sorry, did that break you?” Now it was your time to smirk as she stood up and walked away with a frown. A couple minutes later she was flirting with various girls around the club.
Later that night, she came back. “Why don’t you want me?” She asked you causing you to look at her rather confused. “I mean, you’re clearly gay and you said it yourself, I’m hot. So why do you not want me?” It annoyed her that she didn’t even know what your problem was, she wasn’t going to force herself on you but she wanted to know. Only then she realized that you disappeared when she wasn’t looking.
Something about you mesmerized her, she couldn’t put a finger on it and she hated it, not once has she been so pulled in by someone. But she didn’t just think that you’re hot, no she thought you were beautiful. So she went back the next couple of nights to see you again but you didn’t show up.
She let Tony do a bit of research about you and it made sense when she heard that you were the club owner, that’s why you weren’t always behind the bar, but it meant that you probably were in the club somewhere.
Turns out your bartender wasn’t sick but he was planning on quitting his job, so here you were at the end of the month doing the job yourself. When Natasha saw that, she came back every night to try and flirt with you.
Unknown to you the flirting that was just for a hookup soon turned into honest intentions. She started to fall for you, so she sat at the bar every night making small talk and listening to your stories. Your voice was one of her favorite things, it was soothing and so comforting that she could listen to you to talk for hours. To you it just seemed like Natasha finally realized that you didn’t want to hook up and that maybe, just maybe, she wanted more than that.
That’s what you thought until today, you came into the club later as you had a meeting before. When you entered you immediately saw Natasha with three girl around her, clearly flirting with them to get into their pants. You rolled your eyes and grumpily made your way behind the bar. It wasn’t really clear to you why you always had to look over to the group or why it annoyed you so much until you best friend, Kate, spoke up. “Falling for the playboy always hurts darling, but you’ll be fine” she kissed your cheek and disappeared.
She left you trying to figure out what she meant, you didn’t fall for the redhead, right? It would be stupid and you wouldn’t do that, you thought and decided to concentrate on work. You were shaking a margarita for a customer as you made a bit of small talk with her, she was here for a visit and you decided to give her some tips for the city. By now it got more to a point where you were flirting with her and things where great until
Until Natasha came up to the counter. “Hello beautiful” she greeted you and leaned over the bar to kiss your cheek. As much as you hated it, it made you blush causing the woman you were flirting with to go. “What the hell? You made her leave” you whined while glaring at the redhead. “I’m sorry, but can I maybe get a beer?” She asked sitting down across from you. “Here” you mumbled as you gave it to her, before cleaning the counter.
“So how was your day sweetheart?” She asked causing you to roll your eyes and ignore her. “Y/n - what’s wrong?” She was concerned by now as she didn’t really know why you were ignoring her. “What do you want Romanoff?! I’m working” you snapped looking up at her. “That didn’t matter before, we’ve been talking the last couple of weeks” she tried to explain but you only shook your head. “You can drop the act and to back to your girl toys over there, I believe they’ll satisfy your needs” you told her accusingly before turning to the other bartender. “Clint, I’m taking 5”
What you didn’t know was that Clint, a coworker and friend of yours, was also pretty good friends with Natasha. “What the hell was that?” She asked him confused. She was genuinely interested in how your day was and she was more than just trying to get into your pants. “You’re really clueless huh?” He grinned as he was obviously enjoying this. “What do you mean clueless? She’s mad at me without a good reason” she argued causing him to laugh. “Without a good reason? The last three weeks you flirted with her and made her feel like you care and one time she comes late and you’re back there flirting with three women at the same time” he explained before walking off to serve another costumer.
Natasha was more than happy to hear that. The last three weeks she fell for you and she was scared that you wouldn’t feel the same. So she made her way to search for you. But her search was interrupted when Tony called out for her, “Romanoff, Peter is in trouble. We gotta go.” You watched as they walked to their bikes and drove off.
The next morning you went to get breakfast with Kate. “I don’t know why I’d fall for her. I mean she is a playboy, why would I do that?” You rambled to Kate who tried to comfort you as much as she could. “It’ll be fine, we all fall for someone like that at least once” she told you rubbing your arm comfortingly.
In the middle of breakfast Kate went to the bathroom so you took the opportunity to check your phone until someone slid into the booth in front of you. Looking up you saw a redhead, “what are you doing?” You asked not really happy to see her. “I saw you from outside and couldn’t walk by without saying hi and tell you that you look very beautiful today” she explained before ordering a coffee.
By the time her coffee arrived Kate was back and stood next to the table looking at the biker confused. “Did I crash a date?” Natasha asked eyeing the brunette. “No, you’re fine. But y/n, darling, I actually gotta go. I’m sorry” she said before she kissed your cheek and disappeared. She felt bad about it but she saw the way Nat looked at you, it was filled with so much love and adoration that she just couldn’t resist.
“Well maybe I should also leave then” you told the redhead who was quick to grab your hand. “Wait, please, come on. Let me take you on a date, if you don’t like me after it, then I’ll leave you alone” she said desperately. It shocked you honestly and you were considering what to do. “Tasha, it’s not that I don’t like you, it’s the fact that I don’t think that I can trust you” you decided to be honest because this may be the only way that this could come to an end.
“What? Why won’t you trust me?” She seemed a bit hurt. “Are you being for real? You flirt with every damn girl you meet and why would I think that you want me? Like for real” Natasha was stunned, she thought she made clear that she was really interested in you.
“Listen to me, since the moment I laid my eyes on you I started to fall for you and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel uncomfortable or anything but I really just wanted to be with you. Give me a chance and if after some time you still think I’m not trustable then I’ll leave you alone” she was being sincere, you could hear it, see it in her eyes and her body language. “Fine, take me out” you told her in a challenging way.
Not even 10 minutes later you sat behind her on her bike as she drove you out of town to do for a walk. Bikes used to scare you but somehow you felt safe with her. Most of the time one of her hands was on your leg, her thumb comfortingly stroking over it. On every red light she turned slightly to ask if you were okay.
When you arrived you walked around the small town for two hours before she led you into a small bakery. She led you to a table pulling out the chair for you and kissing your cheek before sitting down herself.
After the fourth weeks it became a tradition to go to this bakery once a week. Sometimes you’d eat there and sometimes you’d just have a small coffee, but anything was great actually as long as you were with the redhead.
This time you walked into the small place to be greeted by a waitress you’ve never seen before. But something you immediately noticed was her staring at your girl. You both sat down and ordered but you pretty soon wanted to leave the room.
The waitress kept flirting with Natasha, who didn’t even seem to notice, the whole time her eyes were on you, asking you how your days were, what you wanted to do for the rest of the day and on and on.
When you left the bakery you attached yourself to the redhead kissing her fiercely. She wrapped her arms around your waist pulling you impossibly closer to her. “What was that for baby?” She asked when you finally pulled away to catch a breath. “For being you, I trust you” you kissed her again before pushing her to her bike. “Come on, I wanna go home and show the rest of the world that you’re mine”
Nearly every night Nat showed the rest of the world that you were hers, she came into your club, mostly sitting at the bar talking to you and telling you that it was only you. Forever only you.
I don’t really like this but hey, I hope you guys enjoy it anyway
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faces-ofvenus · 2 days ago
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College Aegon starting to fall in love with you modern!
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(I recommend you read this headcanon was very inspired to write this headcanon)
Choose a course "c/c"
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As said Aegon is like a chameleon in the university, he changed courses like a reptile changes its skin, and in one of these changes he found you, so beautiful, so intelligent, so superior to him, don't get him wrong, he didn't want to go w/c, but frankly he was tired of his current course as well as the others, he practically ran the whole university, or almost, and it was there that he found you, so focused on what you do, so beautiful, your professor made you sit together, to his delight and his disgust.
You looked at him like he was an alien, yes he was a hottie, his characteristic white hair, but short, he was just plain hot, yes yes, very hot, but also a drunken asshole who only thinks about where he's going to put his dick tonight, and yes he flirted with you, yes you liked it, and yes you pretended not to care, his voice was so, wow, you had horrible thoughts, but still-you wouldn't let him down, you wouldn't give him the taste, not for him.
It only made him think you were hotter, you were so beautiful, listening to you explain the subject to him was so enlightening, even though he was already hating the whole class the minute he stepped into it, maybe your voice, the way your lips moved, your eyes shining with interest, your hands restless, he felt good, it was interesting, yes you turned him on but he wanted to talk to you, or rather listen to you, and that made him want you to feel the same way.
After that little job you thought, not over, he was going to move on with his life, probably start something else and leave it unfinished, besides finally leaving your thoughts alone, yes you couldn't get him out of your head but who could, he was remarkable in a bad or good way,
You couldn't allow yourself to be fooled like that, not with the bad reputation that haunted you, the evidence was there, and you were anything but stupid to let it go, but he simply haunted you and forced himself to sit next to you in the next classes, you hated him, because you simply didn't move on, and because you were behind it,
Aegon didn't seem to be interested in what was being taught, and he really didn't care, whether it was with account or not, he didn't care, it just seemed that the only thing that caught your attention was your face looking at the board or book, it was annoying you thought, It was embarrassing, you look away and he's leaning his head on your hand, looking at you shamelessly, and when your eyes meet he barely looks away, just gives you an even bigger smile, and gives you a wink, asking what it was about and that he wanted your explanation.
— Aegon, if you paid attention to what the professor said, you would know what we are studying.
— But I only understand with you!!!
From then on it would only get worse, for you of course, because he didn't know why whenever he was going to have sex with a fucking girl your face appeared in his mind, painting your face and what your possible demonstrations of pleasure would look like, whenever he flirted he saw you, and he could only flirt with someone who merely looked like you, when he skipped or skipped class and you thought you were rid of him, there he was waiting for you on the way out, he tried to talk to you, even though you answered him harshly, or only with short and direct lines, he wanted more, he just wanted you not to be so indifferent to his presence.
When he found out that Jacaerys knew you, it was almost the last straw and it became almost a duty to be his cupid, Jace denied it, you were his friend, you were his little childhood crush, and honestly he wouldn't set you up with someone like your uncle, not when he knows Aegon's fame as a catcher, he couldn't tolerate a man like him, being with you.
But Aegon swears to his heart and soul that this time it's not just about sex, he's obsessed, he wants you, and honestly he doesn't see you as just a one-night stand, even if you are the hottest woman he's ever laid eyes on, Jace only helps him when he promises not to break your heart, obviously he doesn't trust Aegon's word too much, but Aegon's desperate, drunken voice annoys him, yes he lost count of how many times he got calls from a drunk Aegon and whatever else he used that night, at 3, 4, 5 in the morning asking about you, and what your type of man is like, and Jace is like, what the fuck, I don't know her ideal type, do you think I notice the men she picks up or looks at (yes when he was in love with you he did, but that's not the point)
And so he would begin his hunt to conquer his beloved.
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lovely-lynn-writes · 2 days ago
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More Than You Asked For – S.R.
Request: idk if you're doing requests or not BUT IF YOU ARE: "spencer lends his hoodie to reader on one of their adventures. After he's dropped her off, she realizes she forgot to give it back. While folding it up, a few things fall out, including an old iPod. Curiosity getting the better of her, she can't help but look through the music and finds a playlist with her name as the title" — @wherewitcheslie
Pairing: Best Friend!Spencer x Fem!Reader
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CW: Fluff | NO USE OF Y/N | friends to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff, pining, a kiss
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Cases have the tendency to escalate at times; I know that's what is to be expected in this job. What I had not expected, however, was a freaking chase through the sewer system of New York.
By the end of this Hollywood movie cliché, I smelled so bad I actually felt like crying. But the unsub was caught, and the last victim was now asurvivor.
Stepping out of the hotel shower, I blow dry my hair. I brought heat protection and a leave-in conditioner so I don't fry my poor hair to death. Slipping into stretchy, actually comfortable jeans (Yes, those exist. Yes, they were expensive.) I put on an oversized pajama top and stumble out into the hotel room.
Spencer stands there, packing his go-bag, already done with packing mine. I love having my best friend be my co-worker. Fucking hate packing, and it's nice to see that he packed my sewer-clothes into a separate plastic bag.
"Feeling better?" he asks with his boyish grin.
I nod. "I needed that shower."
A chuckle escapes him. "Yeah, you reeked."
I throw my towel at him. "Thanks, cunt."
He catches the towel mid-flight and watches me drop onto the bed. Within a second, the towel is thrown onto my face. I grab it, giggle weakly, and roll it into a ball, tossing it onto the floor.
"You should put on a sweater or a jacket. I know we're just getting into a cab and then into the jet, but you're freshly showered, and it's starting to rain."
I have packed nothing comfortable. The shitty part of looking professional is that professional clothes are professionally uncomfortable. I definitely need to go shopping and buy stuff that ticks off both comfortable and professional.
I let out a childish groan. "I don't wanna..."
"C'mon, you're gonna catch a cold," Spencer tells me in a firm but gentle tone.
I roll onto my stomach, pressing my face into the mattress while complaining about my clothes. I hear him come closer, lean in, and reaffirm my protests with "Uh-huh"'s.
I run out of oxygen and stop whining. That is when Spencer sits down next to me, rubbing small circles into my back.
"Would you want to wear something of mine?" he offers.
I instantly jump up, kneeling on the bed and nodding. He chuckles, opening his go-bag. I know him well enough to know he gets uneasy when I rummage through his neatly folded clothes, so I just look at them.
"So, what do you want?" he asks. "A cardigan, a shirt-"
I interrupt him. "Can I wear your hoodie?" He raises his brows. "The grey one."
"I wore it to bed."
I know that. It's one of his favorite sleeping items when it gets colder.
"I know," I say, making grabby hands. "Now, gimme."
Pulling out his hoodie, he says, "What's the magic word?"
I sigh, trying to reach the hoodie, which he starts holding further up. "Spence."
"Wrong. Try again."
"Please," I tell him and get the soft hoodie placed into my hands.
"Wasn't that hard, now was it?"
I stick out my tongue and then let myself get swallowed by the hoodie. It smells like old books, coffee, and Spencer... or maybe all of that is Spencer. I happily flop with my arms, the way too big sleeves flopping around.
"You know, this is the best thing that came out of your fling with Max," I tell him as he hands me a pair of socks.
"A little harsh, isn't it?" he says, still smiling.
I shake my head. "She was a bitch whenever I tried befriending her."
"Yeah, but that was mostly my fault," Spencer quickly defends the woman who dumped him and moved to New York.
"Not true."
"Very true."
"Why should that have been your fault?" I ask as I put on my shoes.
"Because I constantly talked about you. She felt threatened."
"About what? Us being friends?"
There is no chance Max was actually jealous. I was the jealous one because she was constantly around my best friend, making alone time impossible.
Spencer shrugs, grabbing both our bags and leading me to the door. "Just repeating what she told me when we broke up."
I stop in my tracks. "She broke up with you because of me?"
He quickly shakes his head. "No, no, sweetheart. It just didn't work out with us."
"But- But why didn't you mention it earlier? You and Max broke up a year ago."
Why did my best friend not tell me that I was part of the breakup talk his girlfriend gave him?
"Wouldn't have changed a thing. You only would've bullied yourself into thinking it was your fault." He looks at me for a split second, then smiles. "You're doing it right now."
I shake my head, lying. "No, I'm not."
He leans closer while locking the room's door. "Liar."
I love when his face is this close to mine. It makes it so much easier to see the green specks in his hazel eyes.
"I'm not lying," I insist, but he knows me too well.
Letting go of the key still sticking in the lock, he tickles my side until I'm backed up against the wall.
"Shame on you for lying. Evil little thing," he chuckles with fake appall.
I try to squirm away without actually trying to escape. Because once he stops tickling me, we stand here, his body pressing me against the wall, his face way too close to mine.
We're both quietly staring at each other, and I wonder if he feels it too.
Okay. Maybe just calling him my best friend is hypocritical and dumb and simply not true.
I have been somewhat crushing on him since I first met him. Doesn't speak for my taste in men that it was when Tara had taken me to visit him in prison. I had seen him, he said hello, and my stupid heart skipped a beat so intense I am still recovering from it.
I joined the BAU as Dr. Spencer Reid's temporary replacement for the time being as he went to prison. I had practically jumped at the opportunity to play with the big guns, and when everything was cleared, the dust Mexico and Mr. Scratch had created had settled, Spencer had made sure I was promoted to a permanent part of the team.
He softly whispers my name, and I think he feels it too... this connection that is hunting us while we pretend to just be friends.
We jump apart the second somebody opens a door on our floor. Luckily so, because Emily and JJ come out of their room, joking about something. Spencer and I avoid our gazes until all of us are in the elevator; there, we just smile at each other.
Like...Friends.
*****
At home, I throw my go-bag aside, dump some clothes into the wash, and collapse on the couch. I'm too tired to grab a blanket, so I shove my hands into the pocket of Spencer's grey hoodie, hoping that's enough to keep me warm.
But there is something in the pocket I haven't noticed before.
Spencer's old iPod.
I love that he refuses to simply get a smartphone. It's one of those not-fully understandable quirks that just make you way more fond of somebody.
Turning it on, I decide to snoop a little – Checking out what my favorite doctor likes to listen to... It's only fair. He's all over my stuff too. No secrets; we're best friends, after all.
Putting the headphones in, I go through his playlists and...Oh My God, Spencer is a Swiftie.
But then I stop in my tracks. I need to look twice.
There is a playlist with my name.
Okay. Nothing too out there. This playlist can have a multitude of reasons. Maybe those are songs he knows I like, maybe ones he thinks I'll like once he shows them to me... Or what if they're songs that remind him of me?
I open the playlist and go through the songs. Yes, there are some that I like, but why in the world are most of those songs about unrequited love?
I sit there (rather lay there) on the couch for almost an hour, just having the songs play. As"I Can't Make You Love Me"by Bon Iver stops playing,"Line Without a Hook"by Ricky Montgomery starts...
Why?
Why does it seem like I am not the only one holding feelings that go far beyond friendship?
I sit up and turn off the iPod.
Is Spencer in love with me? Am I actually that fucking lucky?
Do I now just confront Spencer about it? What if I read the playlist wrong, and it's actually just a playlist like any other, and I make myself out to be a gigantic dummy, ruining my friendship with him?
This is stressful. But... Spencer wouldn't end our friendship just because of my little crush. The one I have since I first saw him. The one that makes me want to say"I love you"whenever he makes me laugh.
Right?
No. No, not Spencer. It's not like I decided to fall for him. It simply happened. He'd understand that should he not return my feelings, right?
Yes. Definitely.Maybe.
Maybe I should just stay quiet? Leave this question unsolved.
Is not knowing better than taking the risk? Is it smarter?
My phone rings, the picture of my best friend lighting up on the screen. Sometimes I am worried that he's able to read my mind.
I pick up, sounding so calm and cool I wanna pat my own shoulder. "Hey, Spence."
"Hey. Uhm... Did- I- You don't know by any chance if I left my iPod in my hoodie pocket, right?" he asks quickly.
"Yeah, I have it right here," I tell him.
"Cool. Cool," he answers, still sounding unnaturally stressed.
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. Of course. Listen, sweetheart, would it be okay if I'd come pick it up real quick?"
I frown. "Okay, what secrets do you have on that thing? Nudes? Porn? Homemade porn?"
"What?" he asks back, confused.
"Nobody loses it that much when their best friend has their iPod unless there's something on it you don't want me to see. So, is it nakey pics of you?" I tease. "Because if so, I can't guarantee that I won't be snooping for them."
"D-Don't turn it on. It- It's nothing suspicious. I just want- I need you to. It's cause..." he stutters and stammers until his voice falls silent.
Thinking about it for a second, I decide to take a leap of fate. I can easily play it off as part of the teasing, after all.
"Is this about the playlist with my name?"
The other end of the phone call is quiet. For a solid minute, I wonder if Spencer became unconscious. This silence somehow speaks louder than any excuse he could throw at me.
"Spence?" I ask.
I hear him swallow roughly. "Y-Yeah?"
"Is it about the playlist?" I whisper.
"Yes."
Goosebumps form on my entire body.
"Why?" I ask.
Almost silently, he says, "I think you already know why."
I hold my phone between my ear and shoulder so I can pinch my left hand. "Ouch."
Not a dream. I am wide awake.
I am wide awake, and Spencer returns my feelings.
I should buy a lottery ticket because this was a one-in-a-million chance of ever happening, and I should use the universe's decision to favor me as much as possible before my good luck streak fades.
"What happened?" Spencer asks, alerted by my whimper.
"N-Nothing," I answer quickly and a little dumb. "I just pinched myself."
"Why would you do that?"
Because I'm an idiot, Spencer.
"Wanted to make sure I didn't fall asleep on my couch."
He chuckles softly.
"Hey, uhm, Spence? Can we, like, I don't know... Meet in the park next to the De Luca Bookstore?"
"Of course. Why?"
"Because you asked for your iPod back," I say. "And maybe we could... I mean, weshouldtalk."
"Meet you there in 15?"
I agree. "Meet you there in 15."
*****
I walk through the park, glad that the rain we had encountered in New York hasn't reached DC yet. The sun is setting and casting a beautiful golden light over the little lake full of ducks and their little ducklings.
I pass a couple of benches until I reach the one Spencer sits on, staring at the water.
"Hey," I say, sitting down next to him.
He jumps a little, seemingly having been deeply in thoughts. "Hey."
I hand him his iPod. "Sorry for snooping. Wasn't cool of me."
He chuckles weakly, shoving the iPod into the pocket of his suit. "You know I don't mind when you're all over my stuff."
I giggle childishly. "Dirty."
He joins my laugh, making all of this way less awkward. As he stops laughing, a deep sigh escapes him. "I'm sorry you found out about it like that."
"How else would you've let me know?" I dare to ask cheekily.
"Honestly?" he laughs. "I would've taken my feeling to the grave with me."
"Why?" I tease. "Does being with me sound so bad?"
"You know that that's not the reason," he says, leaning closer and bumping me softly with his shoulder. "What would I've done if you didn't feel the same? I couldn't risk losing you."
Suddenly he jerks upright. "I- You- Do you even feel the same, or am I making a fool out of myself right now?"
"If I were to turn you down, I wouldn't still wear your hoodie," I mumble, amused, pulling the sleeves over my thumbs and feeling my face heat up.
A silence spreads between us, but it's not an uncomfortable one. We both seem nervous, but the good kind of nervous... the kind of nervousness you feel when newness in a relationship occurs.
Suddenly, Spencer's hand reaches for mine. I practically jump at this opportunity and enlace our fingers. He lifts my hand, placing a kiss on the back of it, and my heart skips a beat.
"I want to take you out on a date if that's okay with you," he says, making me nod excitedly.
"You have to pay, tough," I tell him. "Only brought my keys and 5 bucks."
Spencer chuckles. "You wanna go home and change first?"
"If you take me home now, we're staying in," I warn him with a smirk.
His tongue darts out, wetting his lips and a pink blush spreads on his cheeks. "We can always just order and watch TV."
I nod, and Spencer stands up, pulling me onto my feet.
As the night creeps in and the lanterns turn on, we walk towards the park's exit, still holding hands. All of a sudden, he stops his steps and pulls me in for a gentle yet longing kiss that lets me feel just how long we have wanted to do this.
"Sorry," Spencer smiles against my lips. "Couldn't wait any longer."
I peck his lips again, the butterflies in my stomach being the sweetest feeling I've ever felt. Then I grin.
"Look at you; got your iPod back, and it even came with a girlfriend. You really got more than you asked for today, huh?"
Continuing to walk, Spencer laughs. "Now imagine how much sooner we could've had this ifyouhad asked for it."
Giggling, I punch his arm. "Oh, shut up."
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red-jackal · 2 days ago
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Can you do kaeya!sub x Male reader!Dom and kaeya likes to get humiliated
sure 😼
warning (s) ; public sex, anal sex, hair pulling, light degradation
so sorry this is shorter than usual 💔
!FEM ALIGNED DNI, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!
If you press read more, you consent to reading explicit content
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"W-Wait, [Name], they're going to see us!" Kaeya whisper-shouted, seemingly mortified at the prospect of people seeing the grand Cavalry Captain naked in public.
Well, not necessarily outdoors, but in a lonely hallway at the Favonius headquarters.
"They won't if you be quiet," you caressed his hips, snaking a calloused hand over to his hard cock. "Besides, isn't that what a dirty whore like you wants? To be caught?"
He shook his head, but with the way he twitched and throbbed in your hold, you knew it was a lie. That's what he wanted - or, at least, wanted the risk of it.
"That's also why you skipped today's meeting, isn't it?" you continued. "Because you wanted me to fuck you so good you can't think straight?"
"What- No- That's not-" he stuttered, completely unlike his usual self. You'd forever pride yourself in being able to reduce him into this mess.
"Really? So all those glances and touches earlier meant nothing? Maybe I read that wrong, then," you began to pull out of him, erotic squelching noises echoing through the corridor.
"Wait! Fuck, wait," he tensed. "Y-You didn't."
He looked back at you, his cheeks burning red; it was a pretty contrast to his bronze skin. The eye staring at your face was wide with desperation.
You let out a breathy chuckle. "Imagine what Jean would think if she found out how much of a slut you truly are."
He moaned as you thrust back into him, quickly following a steady pace. You kept from going all the way inside to spare him some of his dignity, but it seems as if he didn't really care about that. He adjusted his legs to fuck himself harder on your cock.
You huffed amusedly before obliging, thrusting into him hard enough to get him weak in the knees. He rested his head on the wall in front of him, trying hard not to let out any more noise. You could tell he was biting his lip from the way his moans muffled.
You grabbed his ponytail and pulled, yanking his head to you. One of his hands was on the wall as his back was forcibly arched. He groaned at the sudden ache in his scalp, but couldn't deny that it felt good.
One of your hands snaked down to his cock — it was harder than you thought. You grinned to yourself. He really did get off on having sex where people could see him.
You began jerking him off in time with your thrusts. He tightened around your throbbing dick; it almost made you cum on the spot.
"Fuck!" Kaeya cursed. "I'm gonna cum!"
He let out a loud moan, his cock spurting cum over the wall. You continued to jerk him off before groaning and stilling, gently fucking your semen deeper into him.
You pulled out with a sigh, holding him close to you until his thighs stopped trembling.
"We should probably leave, huh?" you said, taking out a – convenient – handkerchief to clean the cum. "You got loud."
"Oh, shit," his face burned with shame. But he knew he wanted to do this again. "Yeah. Let's go."
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lexsssu · 2 days ago
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Normal (Malleus Draconia)
Flufftober Day 26
Malleus Draconia isn’t all that good with social interactions when it comes to his peers. Not because he didn’t want to, but rather because his mere presence spooked most of the student body to the point that they avoided him outright.
But then…
“Hey, Mal? Can you bend down for me real quick?”
Blinking his acid-green eyes, the tall male nonetheless bends his body downwards, curious about your next course of action when he feels your small hand plucking a stray flower petal that had nestled itself comfortably within his dark locks.
“There we go. I saw this little thing drifting around and landing right on your head for the past few minutes,” you chuckle, blowing the pinkish-white petal from the palm of your hand and letting the faint breeze pick it up on another journey.
The fae felt something from within his chest squeeze at your thoughtfulness, he heard something more primal from deep within the recesses of his mind croon happily.
“You can stand back up, big guy. No more little flowers are hiding in your hair. I promise~” Sticking out your tongue at him playfully, Malleus ignored how parched he suddenly felt at the sight of your adorably small pink tongue.
How you make him feel so normal and yet not at the same time is beyond him.
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gathered-moss · 7 hours ago
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first snow
do not interact with this post if you are under 18.
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When an unexpected snowstorm hits Hawkins one night, you end up in a precarious position: stuck bedding down for the night next to your best friend, Eddie Munson. As the events of the night unfold, you realize it's going to be harder and harder to hide what's making things so complicated from him: the truth, that you are horrendously, inconveniently, insufferably in love with him.
a loose continuation of first frost (but standalone, too)
w.c: 6.1k
tags/content: smut (18+), friends-to-lovers, "and there was only one bed," soft yearning w/ a crumb of mutual pining, oral & vaginal sex
the reader: she/her, wears eddie's flannels well, wears his underwear even better
notes: i'm trying a slightly different smut style here- something I felt matched the tone of this fic a little better. please let me know what you think of it! i hope you like this fic, it's been a lil heart project of mine for the last few days. 💖
[m.list]
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“Yeah, no, we got in alright. Only just started comin’ down an hour or so ago, so…” 
Eddie’s voice drifts from the galley kitchen into the living room, muffled by the carpet but still clearly audible from your perch on the armchair by the back window. You’re curled sideways with the base of your spine pressed to one padded arm and your shins wedged against the other, gaze flipping intermittently between the kitchen, where the phone cord disappears around the corner, and the window, where, in the dull golden light of the park’s lamps, the snow grows thicker by the second. 
Your name, from the shadow huddled in the dark of the kitchen, calls your attention back to him. 
“Yeah, she’s not going anywhere. Don’t worry, her folks know where she is.” Eddie pauses, then chuckles bashfully as his silhouette bows forward. 
“Right. I’ll tell her that. Alright. Back to work with you. Don’t try anything stupid if they don’t get this mess cleaned up by morning. Right. Right. Take care, Wayne.” 
He ducks around the column that divides kitchen from living room and slots the phone back into the cradle before appearing himself, sliding both thumbs into the pockets of his slouchy black jeans. 
“I guess it’s official,” you murmur, drawing your knees in a little tighter as he hovers at the edge of the room. 
“Yup,” he quips as he rocks forward on sock-covered toes. “You’re stuck with me tonight.” He ducks a little, as if through an imaginary doorway, creeping sheepishly further into the light of the living room. He’s avoiding your gaze a little, peeking at you out the corner of his eye, like he should feel bad for something. 
You betray the nerves boiling in your gut and lean forward, resting your chin on your knees. “Is that okay?” 
Instantly, his expression eases up. 
“Course it is,” he promises. He skirts around your chair to drop into the sofa that sits kitty-corner to it, bracing both elbows on the closer arm to prop his chin on them and pull his face in close. “I was only gonna be picking you up in, like, eight hours anyway.” 
“When you said ‘every morning,’ you really meant it, huh?” Warmth bleeds into your belly where the nerves used to be. This has been the cycle of your friendship with Eddie ever since the fall: your feelings are kept at bay for as long as you can stand it, but then he does something cute and you fall into him all over again. He has no idea what being near him does to you, and here, stuck together for the night in the first major snowstorm of the year, is an unfortunate place for a flare-up. 
“’Course,” he assures you, eyes warming with sincerity. “You don’t think I’d go leaving you high and dry for a couple snowflakes, did you?” 
“Mmmno,” you reply. “But I’m more than capable of driving myself every once in a while.” 
“And risk spewing more toxic fumes into the Arctic?” He’s teasing you, raising his eyebrows and drawing the corners of his mouth down in the cutest faux-pout you’ve ever seen. “What did the baby seals ever do t’you?” 
“Cut it out.” You shove at his shoulder, sending a grin to the edges of his mouth that you can’t bring yourself to look directly at. He’s too bright sometimes, too powerful; if you let yourself, you’ll be pulled into his orbit, never to escape. 
“I’m just saying,” he chuckles. “I like picking you up.” He eyes you sideways then, with affection sparkling dangerously in the darkest parts of his gaze. 
You turn your eyes back to the window, peering through your own reflection to find the blowing snow. Eddie takes the hint and, for a moment, falls quiet. 
A dozen heartbeats later, he obviously can’t contain himself anymore. His “well-“ pulls you out of trying too hard not to think, and you turn to watch him slapping his thighs and getting impatiently to his feet. 
“If I’ve got you for the night, I guess we should find something to keep ourselves occupied.” 
I’ve got you for the night, your mind repeats, and the phrase swirls around your mind like the glittering flakes of a snowglobe. 
He turns to face you from the middle of the living room, hands in his pockets again. 
“Any ideas?” 
Your cheeks are warm. Your limbs are warm. Your soul is warm. You glance toward the window one more time. 
“We could take a walk?” 
Eddie’s eyebrows disappear into his hairline. He does not protest, though, and slowly you make your way toward the front of the trailer, bundling yourselves into whatever layers of warm clothing you can salvage from Eddie’s bedroom. You shove double-socked feet into your high-tops and he does the same, clutching the folds of a mile-long stretched scarf between his fingers. 
“How long have you had that?” You ask, taking the scarf from him without thinking. 
“Oh, this thing’s older than me,” Eddie promises, ducking diligently. You lift the middle portion over his head and drape it gracefully against his neck, then he straightens up as you begin to loop the ends around his neck, one after the other. 
“What-“ you sputter when the end in your left hand loops around his neck easily for the third time, and the slack in your right still hangs well past the hem of his jacket. 
“I’m telling you,” Eddie laughs. “This thing’s so stretched out, it’s practically…” He leans forward to duck into the next loop of your right hand, but you’re leaning in at the same time, and as he looks up, his eyes meet yours like flint on steel. He stops suddenly, eyes flicking subtly back and forth under chestnut lashes that are just brushed by the ends of his bangs. You’ve never seen him bundled up like this before- it should be comical, but it’s only making you fall harder. 
“There you go,” you blurt, tossing the last loose end over his shoulder and backing away suddenly. “No frostbite for us.” 
“Right.” Eddie’s quiet suddenly, looking towards the door. He clears his throat and shifts suddenly, like he’s shaking something off. When he looks at you again it’s different, tighter, more contained. He reaches for the doorknob. 
“Ready?” 
He opens the door and the wind catches it, banging it open on rickety hinges as a wall of arctic air forces its way inside, blowing flakes of drifting snow onto the mat. 
You make it as far as the porch steps, shouting yourselves raw over the howling wind. It’s not until Eddie loses his footing and nearly skids down the slippery wooden steps that you abandon ship and fight your way back inside. Even after you’ve made it over the threshold, Eddie has to throw his shoulder against the door to keep it closed long enough to latch it. Once closed, the door still rattles ominously with every gust. 
“Well,” he pants, pressing his back against the shuddering door. “That was an exercise in futility.” 
“Okay, okay, bad idea.” You’re brushing snow from your hair, toeing off your soaked high-tops and taking the first layer of socks with them. When you look at him again, his shoulders are collapsed inward, lips thin. 
He looks cold. 
“I’m sorry,” you brush, swallowing the chilly flood of guilt that races into your throat. You tug slowly at the folds of your borrowed jacket. “I just wanted to smell the snow.” 
It’s true. The gulps of fresh, sweet winter air you managed to take were supposed to clear your head of the nonsense knocking around inside it. But it only seems to have amplified since stumbling back inside. 
“Ah,” Eddie brushes, shaking his head with something close to bashfulness colouring his features, “I was never any good at stayin’ mad at you, anyway.” 
He’s not making it any easier. 
“I can make it up to you,” you promise hopefully. The bashfulness in his expression only thickens, and suddenly he’s raising his eyebrows at you again. 
“Oh?” 
You don’t let yourself believe that he’s making any assumptions, instead plowing straight through to the punchline. 
“Hot chocolate?” you offer, and his shoulders drop- out of disappointment or relief, you can’t tell. 
“If you can find some, I’d be honored.” Eddie hooks his fingers into the folds of his scarf and pulls them loose, hanging it- dripping wet- on the hooks on the back of the door. When he turns back to face you, he pauses, combing his eyes over you from head to toe. He focuses on a spot somewhere between your eyes and your collarbones, then his gaze whips away from you suddenly and he’s in motion all over again. 
“I’ll-uh,” he starts, gesturing vaguely toward the hallway, “I’ll find us some dry clothes.” 
He ducks into the hallway and disappears into his bedroom beyond without another word. If he were anybody else, the suddenness of his exit might irk you. But you’re happy to be left to your own devices for the moment and find your way around Eddie’s messy kitchen. 
There’s a small saucepan soaking in the sink that you scrub out carefully. There’s no milk in the fridge so you settle for water, and by the time Eddie emerges, in low-slung pajama pants and a faded band tee, it’s already come to a low simmer. He’s got some soft-looking clothes draped across his forearms, and even out the corner of your eye, you can see the creases where he obviously did his best to fold them neatly. 
“I wasn’t sure what you’d want,” he explains, holding the small pile of clothes out as you turn away from the stove, “so there’s a bit of everything in there.” 
You accept the pile warmly, letting the soft fabric drop into your arms. A dull waft of scent fills your senses with Eddie, bringing more affection to the smile that touches your lips than you’d care to show. 
“Can I trust you to keep an eye on boiling water while I change?” 
“Probably not,” he jokes, sidling into the kitchen as you step around one another to switch places. “But you won’t be gone long, right?” 
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You’re already disappearing into the bathroom. 
The Munson’s green bathroom provides all the peace and serenity of the inside of a vacuum cleaner, with a shallow little exhaust fan whirring in the ceiling over your head. The lightbulb over the vanity mirror flickers erratically, so much so that you turn your back to it to keep your thoughts straight while you change. 
Eddie wasn’t kidding- he’s left you a little bit of everything, so you pick out a flannel shirt that looks three sizes too big for even him and button it around your shoulders. One look at the jeans he’s offered you is enough to tell you that you won’t be able to get them over your thighs, so you look for the next viable option- and find it, all too soon. 
The boxer shorts are clean, but the implication of what purpose they typically serve is enough to bring warmth spilling across your cheeks and into the tips of your ears. Still, they’re all you have, so you slip them over your own underwear and snap the elastic waistband against your hip, trying not to think about the fact that you’re wearing Eddie Munson’s underwear. As if the warm, Eddie-scented flannel draped over your bare skin isn’t enough. 
By the time you emerge with the rejects draped over one arm and your own snow-soaked clothes drying on the edge of the bathtub, the water on the stove is boiling. A thick plume of steam rises from the pot and Eddie’s posted up beside it, jabbing hesitantly at the bubbling water with the business end of a wooden spoon. He sees you come out of the bathroom and his eyes flick into an expression somewhere between guilt and relief. 
“It’s boiling,” he observes dumbly, glancing back toward the pot as you make your way around the end of the counter. 
“Here.” You hold the bundle of leftover clothes out to him. He abandons the wooden spoon in the bubbling water and takes them gratefully, eyeing your selections with an unreadable look in his eyes. 
“Find everything okay?” he asks, lingering at your side for a long, slow beat. You glance down at your bare legs and press your lips together until it hurts. 
“Uh-huh.” 
“Good.” His voice is absent, distant, like his eyes are when you find them again. For a moment, he seems a thousand miles away, and you watch him, trying to decipher the oddness in his body language. But before you can get a read on him something snaps, and suddenly he’s in the room with you again. He gathers the clothes up a little more tightly in his arms, gives you a sideways look, and then disappears into the hallway once more. 
You know better than to be perplexed. Instead, you turn innocently back toward the pot on the stove, finding the hot chocolate powder you’d fished out of the cabinets earlier. It’s definitely expired, but the smell is still indistinguishable- sweet, chocolatey, pleasantly rich- as you open the cannister, so you don’t think too hard before scooping a couple measures of the stuff into the boiling water. It dissolves instantly, and by the time Eddie emerges again you’ve got a pot of steaming hot, albeit a little watery, prepared hot cocoa ready to serve. 
There’s something off about him as he comes up beside you again, two novelty mugs dangling from two of his fingers. He sets them on the counter, then backs away like you’re a glowing nuclear reactor core. You try not to overthink the gesture and turn off the electric burner, pouring the cocoa in even measures into each mug. The orange Garfield mug is something you’ve seen before, but the other’s new to you- a pinkish-grayish affair, shaped like a hollowed-out yarn ball with “My Yarn and I Unwind at the Same Time,” scrawled lovingly across its faux ceramic “label.” 
“I can find a movie to put on,” Eddie suggests stiffly, clutching Garfield’s head as if it were stuffed with gold, and you think the distraction might do you both some good. 
You’re both right. Even though the only suitable tape in Wayne’s limited collection is Apocalypse Now, the calamity of the Vietnam War, played to the tune of Wagner, proves an excellent diversion. The film’s violent nature forces you and Eddie back into an air of affectionate closeness, and by the time the final credits roll you’re curled up together on the sofa, sharing a scratchy blanket. It would be easier to forget how close you are if your bare thigh didn’t keep brushing the soft flannel of Eddie’s pajamas, but you’ve done a fairly good job of keeping your eyes on the screen and tucking any inconvenient urges to the back of your mind. 
That is, until Eddie reaches up and flips off the TV, throwing the room in to silent darkness. 
Suddenly you are deeply aware of how close he is. It’s not just your leg brushing his. Your sides are practically melded together, trapped under the blanket alongside the shared heat you’ve both generated. Every breath comes with a deep puff of Eddie’s signature soapy-musky-smoky boy smell, and when you make the horrendous mistake of looking over at him, you find his silhouette illuminated by the dull golden light from outside, bouncing off the graceful curve of his eyelashes and the slope of his lips. 
“It’s…” he starts to say, then turns to face you, and suddenly you’re nose-to-nose. You can feel his warm breath fan your chin as he dips his face bashfully away from yours, but you can still see those perfect eyelashes brushing the delicate planes of his face as he casts his eyes downward. 
“It’s, uh, pretty late,” he tries again. 
“Probably time for bed, huh?” 
This is the moment you’ve been fearing all evening. It was inevitable- from the moment the snow began and the light faded from the sky, you’d known you were going to be stuck here. You just hadn’t really thought about what would happen when there was nothing left between you and bedding down with the only friend you happen to be hopelessly in love with. 
“I’ll, uh,” you start, and it’s your turn to pause lamely as you look down at the loveseat you’re currently sharing. It’s the biggest piece of furniture in the living room by far, but still not nearly long enough to stretch out properly on. “I’ll just sleep on this.” 
“No, no,” Eddie jostles, using the momentum of his disagreement to kick off the blankets and stand up. “Don’t be stupid. You take my bed. I’ll stay out here.” 
“On the loveseat?” You can feel the wrinkles in your forehead, the pull of your disapproving lip. “You’re gonna be even more cramped than I am.” 
“Not the loveseat, the…” Eddie trails off, looking around. 
“Where, then? The floor?” 
Eddie shakes out his curls. His chest heaves visibly with the weight of a frustrated huff. When he looks at you again, it’s with something burning in his gaze that wasn’t there before. 
“What do you wanna do, then, bunk in together?” 
His sarcasm pays off. A moment later, you’re standing on opposite sides of his cramped double bed, avoiding eye contact. Eddie thumbs at the hem of his t-shirt, obviously accustomed to taking it off at night, but he leaves it in place- for your sake, you can only assume- and reaches up to pull down the rumpled sheets. 
“Which side’s yours?” you ask. Eddie busies himself with pretending to smooth out whatever fold he’d just neatly laid back, keeping his head down. 
“I usually just, uh… kind of…” He gestures to the middle of the bed. 
“Starfish,” you conclude, and he nods quietly. 
Excellent. 
Eddie straightens, wringing his fingers. As you slowly lower yourself to the edge of his bed, he seems to catch himself and turns away for a second, slipping the rings from his fingers and letting them clatter into a ceramic bowl on his nightstand. Once his hands are bare, he flexes them gently, then the mattress bounces gently as he sits down on the opposite side. 
“What do you mean, you don’t wear those to sleep?” You’re trying to tease him, but he’s too caught up in his own head at this point, offering you nothing more than a bare chuckle and the slightest twitch of his lips. 
“Gotta take ‘em off sometime,” he notes. He changes directions hastily, reaching for the only light left on in the room and flicking it out, plunging you both into darkness again. 
“Snow should be cleared up in the morning. G’night,” he brushes, then curls himself rapidly into bed and pulls the covers up to his chin. 
It’s your responsibility, then, to make the tight space a shared one. You lift your side of the covers and gingerly slot your legs under them one at a time, but as you scoot down to accommodate your torso, your thigh brushes the front of his pajama pants, and he flinches like he’s been electrocuted. 
“S-sorry,” you both sputter in awkward unison. But it’s over. You’re safely horizontal now. You roll over to turn your back to him, put some space between you and those eyes, and that turns out to be a mistake, too. As you roll, he’s shifting sideways, and your backside catches his hips. This time, you both flinch, jumping away from one another with another halted apology. When you finally settle it’s with your back to his front. Putting a safe foot of distance between you means you’re curled at the very edge of the mattress, but that’s a whole lot better than what sleeping closer might imply. 
You lie in silence for a few minutes, waiting to hear his breath even out, waiting to feel his body go slack, but it doesn’t happen. You think about rolling over but remember quickly how badly that went the first time, so you try to busy yourself by counting the stripes on the wall that the light through Eddie’s slatted blinds casts. You lose count four times before giving up and breaking the silence. 
“Eddie?” 
“Mmmhm?” His voice is deep, sleep-sweetened but still very much awake. You take a deep breath to set yourself up for failure and turn yourself over to face him. This time you manage it with little excitement, bumping your knees gently against his as you put yourself nose-to-nose with him. 
“Thanks for letting me stay here tonight.” 
“Please,” he enthuses loftily, “what else was I gonna do? Let you freeze out there all by yourself?” 
“I guess not,” you hum. Eddie yawns, a great, warm thing that sends peace bleeding through your frayed nerves. But then he reaches for you, twining you gently into his arms and fraying them all over again. 
“Hm-“ You plant your hands against his torso, but it’s too late. Your thighs tangle with his and oh, it is comfortable. The blankets drape effortlessly over your tangled bodies as if they, too, are pushing you closer together. You can’t resist any further. You give in and lean into it, slotting your thighs further into his. Something stirs between you and he stiffens suddenly, arching away from you. 
“S-shit.” His voice comes low and tight in your ear. His arms tighten around your body. He twists a little, throwing a glance around the room, but then something snaps and he seems to relent, too. 
“Shit,” he sighs again, longsuffering this time. “You gotta know what you’re doing to me.” 
The words come like a fever dream. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve fallen asleep, respectfully taking up your six inches at the edge of Eddie’s bed and tumbled into some kind of dream. You reach up and pinch the closest skin. 
“Ow!” Eddie flinches. “What was that for?” 
“Making sure you’re real,” you blurt before you can come to terms with how batshit that sounds. 
“Kinda starting to wish I wasn’t,” Eddie mumbles darkly, and that drives it home for you. You are very much awake. This is very much happening. If you were dreaming about Eddie, there’s no way he would sound that depressing. 
“Wait, wait, wait. No.” You reach for him, patting at his plush belly before wrapping your hands in his t-shirt and giving it a little tug. 
“Say what you just said again.” 
“That I’m starting to wish I wasn’t real?”
“Not that. Before that.” 
Eddie groans, rolling onto his back and tugging his shirt from your grip. “Please don’t make me say that again. I already got the wrong reaction once. Just pretend you didn’t hear it and come morning we’ll never speak again.” 
“I don’t want to pretend I didn’t hear it,” you say quietly, staying firmly rolled in his direction. His head drops to the side, eyes finding yours in the dark again. 
“You… you don’t?”
“I wanna know,” you press, reaching forward. Every tendon in your body works to keep your hand to yourself, screaming your folly through every nerve ending. But you’re spurred on by the memory of the way he’d held you, and the desire to be surrounded by him like that one more time. 
Your fingers drift around the edge of his shirt collar, just barely brushing the ridge of his collarbone. He shivers, then reaches up to cover your hand with his. His fingers are warm. Callused. You’ve never felt their touch so deliberately before. 
“Tell me what I do to you.” 
Eddie’s lids grow heavy as he lets a quiet “fuck,” escape on his next exhale. He wraps his fingers tightly around your palm and squeezes. Your hand drifts a little lower, and suddenly you can feel his pulse. It’s pounding against your fingers, hammering erratically between his ribs. The sensation should ground you further, but you’re still kind of waiting to wake up. 
Then he says something that could truly only be uttered in a dream. 
“Can I show you?” 
There’s nothing left for your brain, hellbent on denial, to deny any further. 
“Okay,” you whisper dumbly. Eddie rolls onto his side again, cupping the face-up side of your jaw with all the tenderness of a lamb. He strokes the curve of your cheek lovingly with the pad of his thumb, and even in the darkness, you can see the nerves that flicker in his eyes. 
“Promise this isn’t gonna ruin everything,” he pleads.
“It won’t,” you promise. If only he knew. 
He leans forward after that and kisses you, nothing but the soft press of his mouth to yours. You melt into him, tasting toothpaste as your head swims. You don’t have the heart to break the kiss even as your air supply grows scarce, so you take a deep breath through your nose and let it intensify. It spirals naturally deeper, Eddie coming back to you with more and more force, dropping slightly to suck affectionately at your lower lip, tasting your tongue. 
At some point you give up the charade and he rolls over you, settling between your thighs and descending on you again. This time, you feel the firm press of his excitement, and suddenly it slots into place. Why he’s been giving you weird stares all night. Why he flinched every time your skin brushed his. You start to wonder if it’s been this obvious all along to him. 
Eddie wants you.  
You let him have you, hitching one thigh around his narrow hips to draw them closer to your body, promise him that you want everything he has to give you. He gives a dull little shudder and breaks from your lips, dipping his head with a faltering breath. 
“Just stop me,” he pants, swiping the back of one hand over his mouth, “if I do something you don’t want.” 
“There’s nothing I don’t want from you.” You’re barely even whispering at this point, but he’s so close that you know he’s heard every word. 
He takes it to heart, curling his fingers into the waistband of the boxer shorts he’d given you. You’re already busy wiggling out of the flannel shirt, and in the next instant he has you bare. His touch is hesitant, loving and whisper-soft, but sure and reliable as he gently pins your thighs apart and lowers his head between them to taste you. 
The touch of his tongue is foreign and new, hot and insistent, and quickly all other sensations blur out around you. Eddie’s well-worn sheets seem to rise to hold the weight of your body as all the heat in your limbs draws down, down, down, centering where he presses up, up, up into you, gentle and rhythmic like the ebb and flow of the winter winds outside. 
“Ed…die…” you croak, weak to him, and he leaves you with the lingering press of a kiss at the center of you. 
“You got no idea,” he rasps, crawling up your body and spreading the heat through your limbs again, “how long I’ve been dreaming about this.” 
His fingertips dip in and out of the curve of your side, up the plane of your ribcage and over the swell of your breasts. He lets his mouth follow their path as he ascends you, and suddenly he’s at your peak, eyes hovering over yours again like two dark, glittering chips of garnet in a sea of stone. 
“Take it,” you whimper, helpless to do anything but plead. “Don’t make me wait any longer than I already have.” 
He chuckles warmly into your skin, a shared sentiment. But you don’t need to insist any louder. Your plea is heard, and in the next moment he’s shedding his clothes to join his bare skin with yours. He comes to you again, all warm planes and soft angles, and glides the fingers of one hand from your shoulder to your inner elbow, then down the tender skin of your forearm. He finds your palm at last, joining his fingers with yours. 
“You gotta know,” he whispers, and the hot press of him between your thighs is almost enough to drown him out. But he uses his other hand to gently grip your chin and turn your eyes to his, so you listen well. 
“This isn’t a one-time thing for me.” 
He hasn’t even let you think that far ahead yet. If this is the only touch of his you’ll ever know, you’re ready to make your peace with that. But he’s looking at you so earnestly, with so much real, raw love burning behind his gaze. You’re staring something far, far bigger than either of you in the face. And you have little choice but to marvel at its majesty. Attempting to understand it would be attempting to understand the scope of the skies above you. It is fathomless. Powerful. 
But it is yours. 
“Me neither,” you breathe, and he’s so close the words practically pass from your mouth into his. “I’m here for the long haul, Eddie. I won’t take any less.” 
He stops, and even when you close your eyes, you can feel him smile. He dips his face into the crook of your neck, tracing the line of it with his nose. 
“I’ll hold you to that,” he murmurs against your skin. And then, as you shiver beneath him, he does. 
He presses forward and up, easing into you. You take him in stride, wrapping each limb slowly around him until you are completely joined, bodies and souls twined round one another in perfect unison. You feel completely transparent, under him, all around him, a cellophane wrapper with all your organs exposed. It’s a wonder you ever thought you’d be able to hide from him at all. Now, he’ll see you for all that you truly are: in love with him. 
But he’s torn his chest open, showed you the beating heart of him as well, and you’d be a fool to brush that aside. 
Eddie lets out a breath: shaky, shallow, laboured, and begins to move. He rocks slowly at first, then faster and harder, the fingers of your joined hands tightening further with every change in his rhythm. The winter wind in your mind picks up, drowning out every sound, every sight, every feeling, until you are surrounded by the blizzard with only Eddie, his touch, his warmth, as your guiding light. 
He slides the fingers of his other hand down the back of your thigh, hitching them around the underside of your knee and pushing it upward, keeping you propped against him. His eyes are blown open; the shrapnel pierces your heart. You would bleed out at the mere touch of him and he’s everywhere, staining you colours that no other could. 
The wind howls higher, harder, louder, a gust building in the pit of your stomach that needs to break. When Eddie bends his head low and ducks through the swirling snow of your mind, the shaky whisper against the lobe of your ear pierces the wind. 
“Come,” he pleads. “’M gonna- come with me, please.” 
You let go. The wind takes you. With a swirl of violent pleasure you gasp and clutch at him. His fingers wrench so tightly at yours it hurts, and all of a sudden he’s trembling over you, throwing his body into yours and it’s painful, it’s too much, too vulnerable. 
His limbs collide with yours and then suddenly he pulls away, spilling warm and sudden on your belly. When it’s over he’s suspended above you, sweaty curls escaping the mass of his hair to hug at the curves of his neck, the planes of his forehead, dangle into the shimmering expanse of his infinite eyes. 
For a long moment he simply hovers there, letting no words pass between you. You feel paralyzed beneath him, suspended in a glittery snowglobe, powerless to do anything but watch as time itself seems to still. Finally, he leans down and presses his mouth firmly to yours, as if to punctuate the act, and when he pulls back, he’s Eddie again, flush-cheeked, swollen-lipped, and bashfully red about the ears. 
“I’ll… uh… get you something to clean up,” he croaks. He pauses again, as if unsure, then leans down and presses another kiss to the point of your jaw before rolling away and slipping back into his pajamas. 
In the moment of quiet that follows you stay where you are, letting the weight of the moment crash down around you. In the instant he shed your clothing, your bareness felt obvious, inevitable. Now it feels suddenly wrong. After months of ducking shyly into the bathroom to change, he’s seen all of you in a handful of moments. 
And you him, you remember idly, glancing down at the evidence of your union, cooling in your belly button. 
Eddie returns a moment later, with a washcloth that matches the seafoam green of his bathroom tile spread out over one upturned palm. 
“Here,” he brushes as he comes around to your side of the bed, resting one knee on its edge in a way that subtly leans your weight toward him. “This oughta do the trick.” 
He turns his palm over, and the washcloth falls onto your belly with a warm, wet slap. The absurdity of the situation finally descends on you, and as he reaches forward to cover it with his hand, you burst into tight, throaty giggles. 
Eddie chuckles quietly, but the look in his eyes is pure confusion. 
“What’s so funny?” 
You shake your head. You can’t put words to it. 
“I don’t know,” you beg through peals of laughter. “I just… the…” You cover his hand with yours, lifting the washcloth and dropping it again. It lands with the same slap this time, and Eddie bows his head, shoulders shaking. 
“That’s so stupid,” he laughs. “Shut up and let me clean you up.” He plants his hand over the cloth and scrapes it down your belly, scrubbing in circular motions like he’s waxing the hood of a very expensive car. 
“Stop it,” you gasp, knees lifting, shoulders bowing inward. Eddie’s laughing now, too, cleaning up the rest of the mess and folding the cloth into his hands, straightening with mirth crinkling the corners of his eyes. 
“Last time I ever try and do anything romantic,” he pretends to grumble. He leaves the room again, and from around the corner, you can hear one final slap as he dumps the washcloth into the porcelain sink. That sends you over the edge, and by the time he comes back to you, your sides are erupting with laughter. 
“Jesus,” he laughs. “You- c’mere.” He dives into bed beside you and pulls you into his arms, running his fingertips up and down your sides to tickle you until you’re gasping for breath. When your laughter is finally expended, he just holds you instead, pulling the blankets up over your bare form and tucking you into the crook of his shoulder. 
“What are you still laughing at?” he mumbles, sleep creeping in around the edges of his voice. 
“Just… you,” you sigh, and he snorts before you realize how that sounded. 
“No,” you continue. “I just mean…” You wriggle yourself upward until you can meet his gaze again, settling your head on the same pillow as his. He blinks affectionately across at you and you’re starting to feel like that cellophane wrapper again, too exposed like this, with all your feelings suspended in the air, snowflakes frozen in halted time. 
“You’re the only person I could laugh with like this,” you start, “after doing something like that.” 
Eddie swallows, hard enough that you can see his Adam’s apple bobbing prominently in the dimly lit room. For a moment, his expression is unreadable. Then he screws his mouth up to one side and squints, pretending to mull it over. 
“I… think that’s supposed to be a compliment?” 
You feel the smile brimming on your mouth before you can even supress it. And because you can now, you lean in and kiss him quietly. He accepts it just as tamely, giving you a wide-blown look once you pull away that’s just soft enough around the edges to level you completely. 
“It is,” you assure him, and the snow begins to fall as time creeps forward once again. 
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jadehuntressqueen · a day ago
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Sing For Me
Warnings: hospitals, implied death
Masterlist
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Coughs wracked your frail body as you lay on the stiff hospital bed. The monitor beeped pitifully in the background. A comforting thumb rubbed along your hand. You knew that he was more afraid than you. You wouldn’t have to miss anyone when you were gone. He on the other hand would feel your absence in every moment of life.
“You need to rest,” he murmured when your coughing subsided.
A tear trickled down your cheek. “I don’t want you to be alone.”
A wobbling smile crept onto his face. “I’ll be okay, you won’t hurt anymore so I can be okay with it.”
“Sing for me.”
He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. Pulling his chair closer to the side of your bed he began.
“But you’ll never be alone, I’ll be with you from dusk till dawn. I'll be with you from dusk till dawn. Baby, I'm right here,” Your eyes fell shut.
“I'll hold you when things go wrong,” his voice broke, “I'll be with you from dusk till dawn. I'll be with you from dusk till dawn.”
A shallow breath crept past your lips as a tear splashed onto the tiled floor. “Baby, I'm right here.”
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driftingmoonmenace · 2 days ago
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I can't stop thinking about that Lab Rat AU concept I came up with a while ago so I had to doodle something for it real quick. 🙈💦
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kimjun · a day ago
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Y/n: Hi Alfred
Alfred: Yes?
Y/n: Can a person breathe inside a washing machine while it is on?
Alfred : ...
Alfred: Where's Damian?
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aokoaoi · a day ago
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫.
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֎ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗅 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗅𝖾𝖽𝗀𝖾. || ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ
֍ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : 𝗌𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗂 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋.
֍ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗌𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗂 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇<3 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍:).
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You are a princess of another powerful nation. An only daughter of two fierce leaders. Most people would be upset that they're an only child, but you? No, you were practically glad you're an only child.
And since you're an only child and the first rightful heir to the throne, you were raised, taught, and trained to be a perfect and powerful future leader for the people of Zinandra. You had to admit, it was alot of pressure as a child, but as you grew older, it seemed to me less and less of a hassle, and you got used to it.
Most of the time, kingdoms would want a male to be their ruler. But in your nation, there was no such things as that kind of bullshit. Whoever was the firstborn, automatically gets the throne.
But of course, the regulation of being married before you rule still stands.
Normally that was no issue, but to you, it was. You had no interest in having a partner whatsoever. Let alone a man. Not that you're saying you hate them, it's just that most their mindsets are.. not it.
Finding a decent man to have relationship with was practically rare. It's all love and heart shaped eyes the first meeting, but then the more you see eachother, the more you see who they truly were.
Let's just say you had pretty bad experiences with the men you were 'seeing' back then.
The only person to ever catch your eyes was the princess and protector of Wakanda, Shuri and T'challa. Shuri was a bright and an intelligent woman, as to her brother, he was responsible and regal.
Zinandra and Wakanda had formed a 'peace treaty' way back then. It had been so far back that you weren't even born yet.
You were glad that the peace treaty was a thing. It gave you an opportunity to meet the royal family of the other nation. You were in absolute awe by them. The Queen? Oh lord, she was so beautiful.
Shuri and T'challa would often visit you whenever they wanted. Sometimes you just see them randomly walking around the palace without you knowing they were in your nation in the first place.
In all the dark times Wakanda had went through, your nation was always present to help. Your family have always been in all kinds of gathering in Wakanda. Whether it'd be cultural celebrations. A burial. And, a war.
The war between Wakanda and Talokan really showed you how tough it would be to be a leader of a nation. It even spiked up some worries inside of you that wasn't even there before. But of course, there wasn't you can do about it.
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There was a knock on your bedroom doors all of a sudden. It was already midnight, so you were confused as to why someone was at your door at such an ungodly hour.
"Princess, her royal highness wishes to see you in the great hall." You heard someone call out. You shuffled off your bed, approaching the double doors casually.
You slightly opened it, making the door let out a loud echo in the process. You peaked out and saw one of your most trusted lady-in-waiting standing outside with her usual cheerful smile.
You didn't even know why the hell your mother assigned a lady-in-waiting for you in the first place. You were perfectly fine doing everything by yourself. But you guess having them around would make things much more easier.
You stepped out of the room, softly smiling at her as she curtsied. "Greetings, Zia. You're still up?" You questioned the lady, looking at her in concern. She hums, gracefully nodding her head.
"Why of course. I have duties to attend to, my lady."
You frowned, displeased at her words. "Why don't you get at least an hour nap? I'll assign someone else to cover for you." You suggested, watching as the lady's face contort to something as if she was horrified.
"Oh dear, goodness no. Her royal highness would be displeased at that." She shakes her head, a frown casting on her slightly wrinkling face.
"I insist. Go take a short nap, please. I don't want my people working off stress."
"I—"
"Princess' orders, Zia. You don't want to go against it, don't you?" You rose a brow at her, challenging the lady to speak up once more. The lady let's out a sigh, nodding her head in slight disappointment.
"I'll escort myself too the hall. Have a good night's rest, Zia." You waved at the girl, walking towards the direction the great hall, also known as 'throne room' was.
You finally arrived after a few short minutes of waling around the humongous place, greeting a few guards patrolling on your way to the hall.
Two female guards at the side of the big double doors opened the door for you, their gaze stoic as they never broke their fierce facade. Despite that, you muttered a small thank you before entering.
There you saw your mother standing up, surprisingly not sitting on her throne unlike your father. Your father, looked quite worried for some reason, but your mother looked delighted.
"Mother, what could be so important that you woke me up in the middle of the night for it?" You immediately got straight to the point, frowning as you walked closer to her.
"Ooh, dearest child. You'd be delighted with the news I'm about to state." Your mother cooes, holding your hands with her cold ones delightedly.
Your mother and father were two complete opposite people. Starting by the accents. You see, your mother had an elegant british way of speaking. But your father, he had one that almost mimicked the Wakandans.
You develop your mother's way of speaking, but sometimes, your father's way of speaking would magically leak out of your tone. Like when you're mad or triggered of some sorts.
"She's not gonna like this, my Queen." Your father hisses at his wife, watching as she merely waved at her dismissively. At your father's words, you only grew more worried than excited.
"Mother, what is it?" You questioned, anticipating your mothers words.
Your mother looked down at you with a giddy smile, "(name), we've received a marriage proposal from a very fine prince from another nation!" Your mother enthusiastically let's out. You can visibly hear your father slap his forehead, followed with a groan.
"We're already planning the ceremony. And the prince will be visiting us to meet you tomorrow!"
But Shuri is also visiting you tomorrow.
You were frozen in your place. The moment that you were only experiencing in your nightmares was finally happening and you didn't like it. At all. You let in a sharp inhale.
"Mother. I never even accepted the proposal. Nor was I told about it. Why are you already planning the ceremony?" You gritted out. Your mother hummed with a shrug.
"Listen (name). I know you're furious, but we've been waiting for you to finally have a partner for so long! And when you did show interest, you ended up being disappointed in them and dumped the men!"
"It was for a reason mother. Those men were absolutely atrocious, I couldn't marry them and let them rule a nation I will soon be leading." You state, glaring through your mother through your lashes. Your mother's smile dropped, a frown casting on her face.
"We know you want what's best for Zinandra, sweet child. But we can't bare to let you feel the pressure of ruling a kingdom without someone else beside you." Your mother softly says, her hand coming down your shoulders, caressing it slightly.
You shrugged off the feeling of her hands in your shoulders, taking her aback. You stepped back a few steps. "I was raised to become the perfect leader you wanted me to be, wasn't I? I don't need anyone else, mother. I did everything you asked of me to do, every single pressure as a child."
"We're doing this for you. (name)." Your mother says, her voice slightly raising fiercely.
"For me? Mother, I am just learning now that I'm in a marriage contract! You didn't even bother coming to me if I wanted it or not! Did ever even stop to consider what I care?" You looked at your mother, both furious and upset.
"It has been done, child. Don't mess this up." Your mother states roughly, raising her head high as she looked down on you. You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. You turned on your heels, walking out of the hall.
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eyyy idk what to say eyy || tagging : @skimm0nzz
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redbleedingrose · 9 hours ago
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Always - Part 6
Azriel x Reader
Summary: You and Azriel have been best friends for years after you joined the inner circle as the top healer in Velaris. But with Elain and Nesta’s recent arrival, Azriel has begun to ignore your friendship in favor of being together with Elain. You are heartbroken, and it is Starfall where you will be confined in the house of wind with Azriel and Elain. Everything will be okay though… right?
Warnings: Smut (Minors DNI, 18+), angst, straight up angst, cursing, first time writing Word count ~ 4.8k. Masterlist 
A/N: Hello my lovely readers!!! Thank you so much for your patience and everlasting support. The end is fucking near!!!!! I think part 7 may be your last part followed with an epilogue. I really struggled to write the smut in this chapter, and its kinda shocking considering the amount of smut I read lmfao. But, we got through it. Step 1 studying is keeping me busy, so please send some positive vibes. I love your comments, reblogs, likes, and asks, so please please please keep them coming. I am in constant need of validation as a writer; any interaction means so much to me. I hope that you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I did, and as always (no pun intended), I hope it does the other parts justice. 
Azriel shushes you, kissing away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks, “I will Y/N,” he whispers into his kisses. His scarred hands traveled up your waist from where he was straddling you, up to your hands that lay beside your head, fisting the silk sheets beneath. His fingers gently pull your grasp open before intertwining your hands together, his half-lidded gaze meets yours as he peers into your soul. The only sounds filling your bedroom are the sounds of your breath mixing with his. The only light in the room is coming from the fire cracking in the hearth, darkness swarms the room as his shadows cocoon you both into the bed. Impatience was growing steadily within you, you arched your back, bucking your hips against his, “Az- please,” but he only pressed further into you, stopping any movement. But you felt it, his hard length catching right where you needed him, his membranous wings flared out covering the entire bed. A whimper escaped you as your eyes fluttered shut, remembering the drunk conversations with Morr and Feyre about the correlation of wing span and a not so inconspicuous part of Illyrian males. “Patience dove, We have all the time in the world. You’re mine.” 
You wanted to snark back at him. But you couldn't, not when the smell of his arousal overwhelmed every one of your senses. Gods, you wanted him desperate for you. You wanted him to be frenzied for you. 
Finally, after what felt like centuries trapped beneath him in waiting, Azriel squeezed your hands thrice, “Open your eyes for me, sweetheart.” You forced your eyes open as he dropped his head into your neck, pressing rough kisses into your skin as his fingers moved to play with the waistband of your pants. He kept moving up and down, kissing and licking every inch of your skin, trying to find your most sensitive part that would cause you to shatter beneath him. Breathless. You were fucking breathless. You couldn’t breathe. Every part of you was consumed by him. And he was only fucking kissing your neck. But you never wanted him to stop. You wanted him to kiss you forever. You wanted him to love on you forever. He shuddered against you when he lapped at your skin, allowing himself to savor your taste. Your moan fused with your gasp right when he bit into that juncture between your neck and collarbone, arching your back, trying to egg him on. He shifted swiftly, focusing his efforts onto suckling at the tender spot, soothing it in apology as your skin darkened.
He slowly pulled away, like he was struggling to do so, like he wanted to continue devouring your neck, and turned his half lidded gaze to you, tugging at your pants, silently asking for permission. Puffs of breath between you intermingled as you leaned your head back into the soft pillow behind you, closing your eyes once again as you nodded lightly, the excitement, the anticipation of it all, overwhelming you. That's how it was with Az, overwhelming. Even when you were just friends, every part of him was all consuming. You could never get enough. Azriel, ever the inquisitive one, received your signal almost immediately, tugging your pants off in a smooth motion. 
His breath caught, head falling into your shoulder as he caught sight of your throbbing sex. Every drop of pleasure drips down to your thighs and onto the bed. You shivered when he bit into your shoulder this time, hard, teeth leaving indents into the smooth skin. “Mother above,” he rasped out, “No panties sweetheart?” He let out a shaky breath, the scent of his arousal became much more potent in your bedroom, and he gripped your chin, pulling you forward, “Eyes open, Y/N.” An order from the spymaster that had your eyes shooting open. The tone in his voice to anyone else would have had them trembling at their knees, begging for mercy, but here, with you, that tone. That voice. It told you everything. It told you that he was losing control, quickly, and that he was desperately trying to get a handle on it. 
You smirked up at him, finally having the upper hand. You didn’t need to respond, you had him just where you wanted him, just where you needed him. Every second that passed between you felt more urgent then the next. And he was going to give in. Give in to you.This patient act of the spymaster was just that, an act. Gods, it was practically his job to be patient, but you knew. You were seconds from pushing him over the edge, and you knew that when he would fall over, only carnal desire would be left in him. You hiked your legs onto his hip, giving him full view and access to your cunt. He sucked in a sharp breath as his digits dipped into your folds, stroking up to your clit, circling once, tightly, before pulling away, enjoying himself as he watched you respond to his touch. Gods, you could scream. Rumor has it Az was the darkest and the most relentless in his bedroom activities compared to his brothers. Cauldron boil you, his endless teasing was only proof. And you wanted it to stop. But you also wanted him to keep going, to see how far he could push you into depravity, as shameless as it sounded. 
His grip on your chin turned your gaze away from him and towards his glistening fingers that he had lifted into view, soaked with your arousal as he brought them up to his lips, sucking off the juices as he whined out at your taste. “This all for me, Dove?” 
He sounded… Gods, he sounded intoxicated. Intoxicated off you. You whimpered in response, nodding eagerly, trying to get him to touch you, to fuck you, anything as all the blood rushed down to where you ached. You flung your arms away from their resting place beside you, and reached down to tear his shirt off, desperate for more. Desperate for more contact. Desperate for more skin. Desperate for him. The spymaster’s teasing left you insatiable, you couldn't get enough, you could never get enough. Before you could lift his shirt up past his waist, his shadows gripped onto your wrists, pulling them away and locking them up above your head. Restraining you from another further movement. 
The shadowsinger’s chest rose and fell with harsh breaths, as he tried to collect himself from your admission, his restraint completely lost. He tapped at your thighs, and unlatched your legs from his waist silently, fingers moving to grip your thighs as he lowered himself to face your sex, like he needed some kind of support to keep him from collapsing. He breathed in once, twice, hazel eyes rolling back at your scent, before blowing his exhale onto the sensitive skin causing you to writhe, “Az, please.” You didn’t know how much more waiting you could handle. You felt like you were going to explode. His eyes locked onto yours, the sudden voice knocking him out of his stupor. His swollen lips lifted into a smirk at you, “So needy for me, dove,” before he latched onto your core and moaned into you. 
You jerked against his lips, panting out his name, trying to squeeze your legs shut at the sudden electrifying sensation. You almost fell apart right then and there, you whimpered at him, “Fuck baby.” His fingers clenched at your thighs, his grip tight enough to leave light bruising for you to deal with in the morning, and his shadows wrapped around your ankles, pulling you apart to hold you open for him to feast upon. He gave you a long broad stroke through your folds before he swirled his tongue around your clit, over and over and over and over again. He pulled back for just a second to blow a whisper of air on it, the cool air caused your entire body to shudder, before going back in to lick, suck, kiss at the flesh. His scarred digits brushed against your opening, circling it a couple of times as his tongue flicked his name onto your mound before pushing in. 
Your jaw dropped, as he stroked one finger, and then two, and then three, into your silky inner walls. Pounding his fingers in and out, in and out, with no mercy. His fingers curved and hit the spongy part of your inner wall spontaneously, a strangled noise left you as he adjusted his focus onto rubbing right there. He huskily purred into you, “taste so good f’me sweetheart.” Your cunt clamped down at his words, trying to keep him inside, begging him to keep going, begging him to never stop.
Your heart was racing out of your chest, every part of you was burning from the heat, as you felt your core tighten. The coiling tension in your abdomen was building at a steady pace. You were trembling, nerves on fire, his name coming out in gasps. Only his name and nothing else, nothing could come to mind. “Cum for me, dove.” His command was so strong. So powerful. “Cum for me,” he groaned again. Your eyes squeezed shut, and a golden thread snapped into place, as the tension in you broke, choked sobs leaving your lips, waves of pleasure racked your entire shaking body, as your walls began to spasm and contract around his fingers. 
Pleasure. Jaw dropping pleasure. Mind-empty pleasure. Tears slipping down your cheeks pleasure. Colors bursting around you pleasure. Unimaginable pleasure. Coursing through you. Coursing through that thread, down to the other end. Sinking to your pores. Slipping into the very cells that make you up. You couldn’t think. Nothing had settled in. Only Az. Everything that ever was, everything that is, everything that ever will be is him. Is the spymaster. Is the shadowsinger. Is Azriel. 
The aftershock rocked your body as you slumped over, trying to catch your breath for the first time in what felt like hours, Azriel’s whispers came to the forefront of your mind, “So good for me, sweetheart,” dulling out any attention to the recent thread that had appeared within you. He continued as he pulled his fingers out of you tenderly, “You did so good for me, I’m so proud of you.” He slowly kneaded at your thighs, kissing gently into the taut skin trying to get you to relax. His shadows release you from where you were held, as you continue to pant from the aftermath. Your eyes stayed shut, trying to focus on the sound of your voice when it hit you. 
The thread. The fucking thread. You tried to stay calm, not wanting to give anything away to Azriel. You gave a slow tug at the thread, expecting for nothing to come back, but to confirm that it was there. That you were not imagining it. Because if you were imagining it… well you don’t think you could handle that. What you weren’t expecting was the yank back, the pleasure and happiness and worry streaming down back at you. What you weren't expecting was the silent words that Azriel mouthed into your skin, “I love you mate.” 
You barely heard it, locked into focus on the bond that had appeared at your climax. He mouthed it into your skin so quietly, you literally almost entirely missed it in the haze of it all. But words like that, they weren’t ones to be missed. They weren’t ones to be ignored. No. Those words were more. They were more than that. They- They rung. They rung in your head. They rung loud as your body froze. Ice water poured over you, as if a bucket of it had been flung onto you by Azriel himself. And suddenly, your breathlessness wasn’t from pleasure anymore, but from confusion. Any remaining bits of pleasure in your body were flung out by the words, replaced by the strain of trying to comprehend. Trying to comprehend the words he had just uttered. Trying to comprehend that your mating bond had snapped. Trying to comprehend that Azriel had felt it and tugged back. Azriel had tensed with you at the realization of what he had just admitted. Words that he probably never meant to slip out. His shadows suddenly flung around, the cool darkness of them covered him up as if he was trying to hide himself from you. 
It felt as though you had been stung by him. You shoved him off of you, your eyes darting back and forth between his pleading ones, as you scrambled to pull the comforter that had been shoved aside by your earlier activities to cover yourself. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know what to say. After all this time, the words that you had craved for, the words that you had prayed for day in and day out, left you feeling stung. “What the fuck did you just say?” you blurted out. You couldn’t understand. You didn’t understand. You wanted to make sure you heard correctly, even though you were one hundred and ten percent sure of the words he had just uttered into your thigh. 
“Y/N,” Azriel's voice croaked as he murmured out your name, he reached out to touch you? Hold you? But your body jerked back. You didn’t want him to hold you. Not until he explained himself. Not until he told you what was going on. Not until he… well… you didn’t even know. The thought of him holding you right now made your skin itch, only seconds ago your body was shattered beneath him in pleasure, and now? Now, you couldn’t even think of that. Now, all the pain from this past week and month was coursing through you, through your bond, straight into him. His face fell at the sensation, and he dropped his arm back to his side, clenching his fists as he did so, staring at them with disgust. You repeated yourself again, voice louder, almost hysterical this time. 
His eyes shut tightly, and he took a couple of breaths before he throatily replied, “I love you Y/N. And I am your mate. And you are mine.” The last bit was so quiet, it muddled with the crackling of the embers and wood in the fireplace. You were completely and utterly stunned. This was not how you expected for your night to go. This was not how you expected for all this to go down. In fact, you had almost thought to yourself a couple of different times that any feelings you had towards Az, were unrequited. Especially when Elain had come into the picture. The thought of Elain brought on a whole shitload of questions to your attention.
Exhaustion threatened you, it made you want to collapse and tell Azriel to leave. Your heart had fallen deep in your chest, the knot in your throat paralyzed you. But you knew, gods you knew, the only way you and Az were going to get through this, was to talk it out right now. Selfishly, you didn’t want to. You wanted to go back and rewind time to a couple minutes ago and live in it forever, and forget that this had ever happened. You wanted to stop this moment from continuing because you were scared, and you were angry.  The flames of anger towards Azriel shot out, dread filled you because now everything that had happened these past few months was made worse. 
The thought of not knowing why Azriel pushed you away had become a thousand times heavier in your chest, he had known you were mates. He had known you were mates, and yet he still pushed you away. You hissed out, trying to maintain your composure, trying to not let him see how much this was effecting you, trying to build distance between you and on top of that a wall to separate you two, “How fucking long have you known?” Any intimacy that you had held for him during this night, was lost into the darkness of his shadows. You silently hoped that the bond had just snapped for him as well, but his reactions to your anger and sadness were only pointing you in the other direction.  His wings tucked tightly into his back, he almost cowered at your tone and hesitated, “I’ve known since-,” you interrupted him, throwing any mental shields up, trying to block him out from the bond, and already impatient with his slowed response time, “Since when Spymaster?” He flinched at the name as though he hated hearing you call him that, a pained whimper left his lips at you distancing yourself from him, “A little before under the mountain.” 
Hell had fucking frozen over. You laughed breathlessly in shock, it wasn’t funny. No, this was the most confused you had ever been. Since before Amarantha’s reign? That had been more than half a century ago. A mix of emotions were flooding through you, as you tried to process what Azriel was saying. A mix of happiness because mother above, how you were in love with Azriel words could not describe, but also pain because of the loss of time you could’ve shared together, pain because of his recent acts of pushing you away, pain because he had hid this from you, confusion as to why he hid this from you. 
Why hadn’t he said anything? In all your years of knowing him, Azriel was the kind of male who obsessed after mating bonds. He had told you himself, many different times: whenever he was drunk, whenever he was sober, whenever he was jealous of his brother's bonds, how he wished and prayed for a mate. How he wished and prayed for his equal. How he would adore her and love her. “Even if she’s a fucking worm, Y/N,” he would reply, grinning at your ridiculous questions. Was he upset or disappointed by our match? Was he going to reject you for Elain? Was he ashamed? The ugly doubts all reared its head at you. All of your doubts. All the devastating emotions you had felt in the past couple of months, slammed back into you. 
You couldn’t think straight, all these thoughts and doubts were overwhelming with the pain. And you couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t deal with it any longer. It was stifling. “Were you even going to tell me before you slept with me?” The question was spit out, the knot in your throat was nearly choking you. You didn’t let him respond, “Please get out of my home Azriel.” You were the kind of person who said things they didn’t mean out of anger. And you were sure that if he stayed in your presence any longer, those words would come tumbling out. And there would be no way to fix the already existing damage. The damage that he had fucking done on what was supposed to be a beautiful and sacred bond. 
His gaze snapped to yours, tears were streaming down his cheeks as his face twisted in agony. You needed to come to terms with everything. Come to terms with the fact that he hid this bond, what was supposed to be a beautiful and happy thing, from you. Come to terms with the fact that he had pushed you away for months, knowing that you had been bonded with him. Come to terms that he might want to reject this bond, this beautiful, wonderful bond that you had prayed for. The thought made you shudder, heart dropping even further than it already had, but you had to come to grips with reality. Why else would he push you away? Why else would he focus so much of his time and attention on Elain, rather than focus on you and building your bond? None of it made sense. 
Azriel jostled, pulling you away from your thoughts, as though he could hear them and was hurting at them, he leaned towards you and grabbed onto your hands tightly, squeezing thrice.“No, no, no. Please Y/N. I am not letting you do this again. I am not letting you shove me out-” 
“You pushed me away Azriel,” you screamed with only venom in your voice, hysteria seeding through every part of you as you mentally placed bricks between you and him, blocking him off from reaching you through the bond. You didn’t know if you wanted him to remove his hands and never let him close again, or if you wanted him to hold on and let his warmth seep into your freezing flesh. You continued, “Even now, even after everything, you still don’t see where you went wrong, Az.” Panic oozed from him, draining the scent of arousal from your room, the bitter scent of his fear surrounding you. His eyes tried frantically to meet yours, begging you to look at him, begging you to see him. But you had seen him. For several months. As he ignored you. As he let you believe your friendship meant nothing to him. As he let you believe that you were being replaced. 
Even when Azriel was obsessed with Morr, he never let you doubt your place in his life. He was always there with you. He was always so reassuring of your presence, always so wanting of you. Anytime you were busy with patients, he would wait, hours upon hours, for the chance to speak with you. Anytime you were busy with paperwork, he would rush to help you so he could get even the slightest bit of your attention. And you could handle that. Because you loved him, and even though he longed after another, a small part of you knew that he loved you. Even if his love was platonic, it was enough. But with Elain, Gods you didn’t want to go through this again. You didn’t want to think about it again, you had been mulling over it for the past week, for the past couple of months, and you were sick of it. 
His mouth dropped open before snapping shut, several times, trying to let the words spill out, but all of them seemed to be stuck on the tip of his tongue. You had never seen Azriel so speechless, so stressed. Every part of him, the tight wings, his straightened back, his scarred hands gripping tightly onto yours, his shadows darting around the room screeching at him to say something, anything to rectify the situation pointed towards his distress. Part of you felt sorry for him, but you couldn’t let your love for him, your devotion to him, stop you from knowing the truth. The truth about why he had hidden this from you and had acted the way he had. Even if Azriel was your mate, you knew that it is important that you didn’t let him treat you this way, didn’t let him get away with what he had been doing. Because best friends don’t do that to each other. Mates don't do that to each other. 
You rambled out your sorrow, filling the silence between you, “Azriel, I can’t. I can’t do this if you don’t see what you did to me. You hurt me, to the point where I couldn’t breathe for a week. To the point where I couldn’t get myself out of bed for a week. I deserve better than that. And…  and I think you know that. And to now hear that you knew? You have known all this time, that we were mates, that you could feel my pain and had known about it. So I guess… I guess I don’t understand what it is that you were trying to do. I-... I don’t understand. I don’t understand you, Az.” You feel broken. You didn't want to admit it, but even if Az gave you an amazing apology or explanation for the way he had acted, you weren’t sure it would be enough… enough for you to move on from this. You didn’t know how you were going to come back from this. How you both were going to come back from this. “All I know for certain Az, is that I would’ve never done this to you. Never.” Your voice broke as you leaned back to stare at him, listening to what he has to say, giving him the chance to speak. 
He brought his hands to yank at his hair, his eyes were squeezed shut as tears slid down his cheeks, uncontrollable sobs escaping him, racking his chest. Ebbs of his regret reached you through the bond despite the mental block you had set up, which only meant the force of his regret was all consuming to him. His shadows swarmed you, trying to pull you in closer to their master, their cool touch leaving goosebumps on your naked skin. He took deep breaths as he tried to block out the ache in his chest, to concentrate on finding the right words to tell you everything that he had been thinking this past week, these past months, this half century he had lived in silence. 
At this point, you desperately wanted him to defend himself, you wanted him to explain, you wanted him to take the pain away, you wanted him to show he adores and loves you, prove he wants you. Because you were scared he didn’t. His earlier confession meant nothing in the face of your new reality you were coming to grips with. 
You had left the ball in his court. And you both knew that. You both also knew that this was the moment, the defining moment which would decide whether or not you would even allow the chance for Azriel to make up for his mistakes. He knew that this would be the moment you would decide if your relationship would move forward, or if you were going to let him go. And cauldron boil him alive for all he cares, he never wants you to let him go. He would rather burn alive a hundred times, heal over and over, just to be burnt alive again, knowing the pain already, his scarred hands bearing the evidence, rather than you letting him go, rather than you moving on however undeserving he is to have you, rather than you rejecting the bond. 
The tears continued to streak down his face, he gasped out in between his sobs, “Please Y/N. I am begging you, if you want I'll get on my knees. I promise you one hundred percent honesty, no lies, no deception, only the truth. Just… just don’t let this be the way we end tonight. Please. Please.” He reached his hand out again, hoping, praying on all the gods in the stars, on the mother above, on the cauldron, on whatever existed out there he didn’t know of, that you would hold onto it, that you would give him some semblance of reassurance that you would listen he knew he didn't deserve. 
And your traitorous hands reach out on their own volition to latch on, squeezing tight, trying to calm him, trying to reassure him, your love for him going beyond any description. “Okay,” you whispered out knowing he would hear you over his sobs. You weren’t sure that his explanation would be enough. But you wanted to know. You wanted to hear what he had to say. A big part of you that you buried deep within you wanted to forgive him. The feeling of hope snaked through you, as you prepared to listen to him. This time, without any interruption, without any judgment.  
He shuddered in a heavy breath, silencing his sobs. He had one chance to make this right, and he knew his fate was resting on his shoulders. “I want to start off by saying, I am sorry Y/N. I am so unbelievable and unimaginably sorry. I cannot express enough how sorry I am, but if you give me the chance, I will show you, every day, for the rest of our lives how sorry I am. I mean… I-,” he paused, and you squeezed his hand again, urging him to continue, “I want you to know that you have a choice here. You have a choice to accept the bond or reject the bond.” He shuddered as he whispered it out into existence, “I promise I won’t get in the way of whatever decision you want to make, and I promise to accept it, no matter the outcome. I… I don’t know where to begin.” His hazel eyes lifted to yours, pleading, he was floundering in fear. Tears brimmed at your eyes, you squeezed his hand once more, “Start at the beginning Az.”
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