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foreverdolly · 1 month

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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 3 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. ( need to edit this later because I'm exhausted right now)

word count: 3.5k

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If the intruder had made another noise then hadn’t been able to hear it. Not over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. Dread washed over you, the blood in your veins turning to ice as you were struck with a sudden realization:

Either you fought for your life, here and now. . . or you died.

Your throat locked up, and suddenly you found yourself unable to say anything at all. Shouldn’t you be screaming like a madwoman? Had he seen you undress for the night? Had he been lurking in a corner or a closet as your attendants had run your bath? Was everybody in on this?

Every nervous smile and antsy movement came rushing back to you. Betrayal slapped you in the face so hard that it stunned you back into motion.

The knife that you had hidden away in your room after breakfast was shorter than you would have liked- minimal reach, meaning you’d have to get up close to the attacker. Still, you somehow managed to kick the sheets off of you in order to lurch to the side before he was able to brandish his own blade. You heard it cut through the air, the loud tearing of the pillow where your head had just been perched a millisecond ago echoed through the pitch black room.

You moved towards the door, bare feet against ice cold marble, and finally began to open your mouth to scream for whatever guards were sure to be stationed near the guest quarters.

“I wouldn’t bother,” The man’s voice sneered, a smile evident in his voice. “No one will save you.”

There it was. The truth.

Everyone hated you, but you already knew as much. There was very little you could do in your nightdress- no way you could properly fend off an attacker without any shoes on your feet. Even worse, you had no shield.

“Why are you doing this?” You questioned, raising the knife so that you were holding it defensively in front of you. You hated how pathetic you sounded with your voice shaking like that. Still, your hands held strong.

Under immense trauma and stress like this your body had gone into autopilot. Again and again your training has been hammered into you. You must remain calm. Act with surety.

Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear.

You waited, listening to see if he was getting close to you. The bed creaked, the attacker stepping into a single ray of silver light that had escaped through the blinds.

It was a guard.

So this was planned. You should have known enough. You would have thought that Feyd would have been the one to orchestrate the whole thing, but his earlier warning had made it clear to you that he hadn’t wanted you to perish. At least not like this.

He didn’t say anything else to you before his arm came barrelling down. You stepped to the side, almost tripping over the fabric of your dress in your panic. The cutter blade struck the wall behind you, and in the man’s blind fury he left his side completely defenseless. You surged forward, the knife tightly clutched in your hand, and brought it down hard on his arm. He cried out, the sound nearly deafening you as it echoed off of the empty walls.

“You bitch!” His weapon clung against the ground.

Still, his uninjured arm struck against the side of your face. The world tilted beneath you as you stumbled backwards, your spine cracking against the dresser drawer as your knees buckled beneath you. Pain. It felt like he had just drilled a hole clean into the side of your face. No one had ever landed a blow to you like that. The guard took advantage of your stunned state, moving forward so that he could wrap his meaty hands around your throat.

You needed to use the Voice. He had to stop. . . but his hands were squeezing too tightly. Your lips moved but little more than fearful croaks escaped you. Tears pooled in your eyes at the pressure, at the pain, at the fucking fear that was threatening to swallow you up whole, whole, whole until you were nothing. Your nails scrapped against any bit of skin that you could find. He hissed in pain, using the weight of your own body against you as he slammed you against the dresser where he currently had you pinned.

You kicked out your legs, desperately trying to find a foothold so that you could wrench yourself upwards. If you were in pants then you might have been able to save yourself, but your bare feet slid out against the loose fabric pooled underneath you. The man had struck when you had been most vulnerable. He was killing you.

Your eyes widened, the tears finally spilling past the thick wall of your lower lashes. He was killing you. He was killing you. He was killing you.

With the ringing filling your ears, you hadn’t heard the commotion outside of your door. Only when it slammed open, light from the hall flooding in, did you realize that someone had been alerted. The hands around your throat loosened just enough for you to take a deep, wheezing breath in.

“Help me.” But you couldn’t reach the correct frequency, not when your vocal cords were so damaged.

Still, with bleary eyes you stared up at whoever’s large form filled the doorway. Begging them to save you.

And so they did.

The world just fell away, like ink on wet paper- it all bled around him. All sound and sight ebbed away, the only thing visible in his rage being your tear filled eyes. Feyd had seen looks of pure terror on the faces of men he had bested countless times before. It never meant much to him. The lives he had taken never weighed heavy on his shoulders. He never cared much for anything aside from his own ambitions. He had goals- found minor joy in sharpening his mind and his blades.

He had carried his memories of you from childhood with him into adulthood, each glance and nervous smile acted as a balm that soothed any future traumas or worries. He knew that one day he would be standing exactly where he was right then, with you within arms length.

This wasn’t what he had pictured throughout the years though. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was currently witnessing.

Women bled the same as men did. He never felt overly-noble when it came to protecting them, no matter how weak or frail they looked. Feyd understood that it was survival of the fittest. People lost their lives every day in much crueler ways than suffocation. . .

But the guard had his hands around your throat, and in that moment Feyd no longer saw the proud woman that had managed to nearly knock him off of his feet earlier. No, in that moment you looked just like that six year old little girl he had always cared for so dearly. You looked exactly how he had left you- scared, fragile and innocent.

Feyd-Rautha wasn’t quite sure what love was, but he could imagine that it must be what he felt for you. Losing you was an impossibility, he’d never let it happen. He couldn’t.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

An eerie sort of calm befell the room, the only sounds being your shaky breaths as you tried to fill your aching lungs with air. The guard didn’t answer him, only stared with fearful eyes up at the Na-Baron. He was looking Death right in the face.

“Was it your idea to attack her in the middle of the night like this?” Feyd took another step into the room, which had the guard scooting back awkwardly on his knees. “You were going to kill her in the dark like she was no better than an animal.”

He hadn’t even been brave enough to face you with the lights on.

Feyd, without turning around, used his foot to close the door behind him. Once again the room plummeted into pitch black darkness. There was a shuffling sound in front of him, the man trying to get to his feet as fast as he could to put some distance between the two of them, but it was too late. Feyd followed the source of the noise and reached out, grabbing the man around the stomach before sinking his blade deep into his neck. A sick wet gurgling noise caused you to let out a small cry. Still, the blue eyed man wouldn’t be offput by your disgust.

He had to pay for what he did to you.

And so he dislodged the knife easily, the sharp blade gliding through muscle and skin, and then stabbed again. And again. And again. The guard moaned in pain, trying his hardest to buck and fight Feyd off of him. Even when the man’s legs gave out from under him Feyd followed him, falling to his knees so that he could continue his ruthless assault.

The Na-Baron grit his teeth, eyes wide as his knife continued to find purchase in the corpse beneath him. The bastard had caused you to suffer. He had hurt you. Feyd didn’t stop there either. He stood up and made his way out into the hallway.

The rage had made a home somewhere deep in his chest. He didn’t know what to do with so much anger. He needed. . . he needed to make everyone atone for what they had done to you. Did they think that he would approve of their lame assassination attempt?

“You heard everything and did nothing!” He screamed out at the other guards who stood in the hallway.

His hands were coated in blood, his black shirt and night pants soaked through, clinging to his skin. All they could do was watch him, unable to say anything at all. Feyd knew that they could not deny his claims. They had all been in on this from the start.

And so he raised his blade again and did not stop until every man in the hallway was long-dead.

Not a word had been said since the incident. You didn’t even complain when Feyd had all but dragged you through the halls, rather you followed him as emotionless as a doll. The blood of the fallen marred your arms and crisp white nightdress. It was as if your body had gone into auto pilot. Your mind was lost to you, as you felt as though you were floating off somewhere far away. You no longer existed at all.

You were just a hollow shell now, in a state of shock that had you shutting down completely.

Where was he taking you? You didn’t know, nor did you particularly care anymore.

The guard’s final breaths had sounded wet, probably due to the blood in his lungs. The blade hitting bone. His moans of pain. Those sounds still echoed in your ears, and you were positive that you’d never be able to get them out of your head.

You’d never witnessed anything like that in all of your life. Someone had been killed mere feet away from you. And yet you weren’t sorry for him. You searched yourself for even an inkling of pity and came up short. The bastard got what he deserved.

“Why did you have to do that in front of me?” You managed to mumble out.

Tonight would soon become a memory that would never abandon you. Even in old age you were certain that you would be able to recall every gut wrenching detail of tonights events. When the door leading out to the doorway had opened and illuminated the room, Feyd’s sins had been revealed in full to you.

The guard was unrecognizable. He no longer looked human to you, his insides turned out. Your betrothed had quite literally gutted your attacker in front of you.

Your bare feet tracked blood on the floors, the long skirts of your nightgown soaked with another man’s blood.

“I killed him for you. I wanted you to experience every moment of retribution.” He didn’t turn around to face you as he spoke. Instead he kept his eyes on the hallway, the pupils of his pale blue eyes blown out wide.

You cast a look down at the hand that was holding your arm in a vice-like grip. He was shaking. It was almost as though he could feel your eyes on his hand. His trembling fingers dug into your soft skin.

Feyd released you once the two of you were alone in a room together, closing the door behind him and locking it for good measure. You stood there, motionless as you followed the line of his jaw with your eyes. The muscle there ticked a few times as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. He was still agitated, you could tell.

“You’re starting to bruise.” He motioned towards his own neck.

Your hand flew up to your throat, poking at the tender skin. It felt hot under your touch- sore too. It would serve as a reminder of how close you had come to death. Tonight you felt nothing. . . but what about tomorrow? Would you ever be able to sleep again?

“How did you know that I was being attacked?” Your suspicion was beginning to build back up again. There were just too many coincidences.

“You think I had something to do with this?” He sounded agitated. There was no hint of his usual sarcastic lilt in his tone.

You’d never seen Feyd like this before. He actually seemed. . . offended but your gentle accusation.

“You can’t answer my question with yet another question. How did you know I was being attacked?” You might have been in a state of immense shock but you still had some wits about you.

You were locked in a room with a murderer, and the possibility that he had a hand in your assassination attempt was high. Once again you found yourself utterly defenseless. If he tried to attack you now there was no way that you’d be able to defend yourself. Not only that but your throat was wrecked. You could barely talk at the current moment, meaning you couldn’t even depend on the Voice if you needed to. You were as helpless as a child in the wake of Feyd’s power.

“I see you in my dreams sometimes.”

Anyone else would have called him insane, but you were used to Paul’s dreams. They’d been getting even more vivid as he aged. So Feyd had a dream that you were in danger? You found it difficult to believe that he would go out of his way to come to your rescue. Still, here he was.

“Is that why you warned me today at breakfast?” The pieces were finally beginning to fall into place. He’d known something was going to happen since last night.

“Yes,” He tilted his head, seemingly deep in thought. “Something told me to go and see you.”

You didn’t have it in yourself to question him further. You’d have to be satisfied with his answers. What you really wanted was a bath and a fresh change of clothes. One last look at your soiled clothes had your nose wrinkling in disgust. The smell of blood was thick in your nose- so strong that the iron scent almost smelled sweet. You gagged outwardly, putting your hands on your knees as you suddenly dry heaved.

“You realize that he couldn’t be left alive after what he had done, don’t you?”

Of course you did. That didn’t make it any better though. Your fingers stuck together, caked in blood, as you balled them into fists at your sides.

“Bath.” Was all you said, already looking around the room that you assumed was his living quarters for any sign of a tub.

He didn’t make any complaints as you closed the bathroom door behind yourself. Feyd gave you the time to process everything, didn’t knock on the door even once as the minutes ticked by. You stayed in the water until your fingers pruned and rubbed your skin until it was raw. Blood was everywhere. Under your nails, between your toes- it had even soaked through your dress and now caked your lower legs and thighs.

You threw on a thin cotton robe you found neatly folded on a small towel rack, tying it tightly around your waist before you built up the courage to face your fiance again.

“Take me back to my room.” You were eager to fall asleep.

You’d been through too much. The thought of having to be conscious was tiring in itself. If you could close your eyes and sleep for the next ten years then you would.

You missed your home. You missed your parents and Paul. You missed stability and security. Your life felt lost to you now.

“This is your room now.” He was laying on the bed, already in a change of clothes. He seemingly took a bath himself while you had locked yourself away. There was no trace of gore left on him now.

Your mouth went dry, palms pooling with sweat. Surely you were understanding him incorrectly.

“You can’t expect me to sleep in the same room with you. We aren’t married.” There was absolutely no way your parents would approve of something like this.

“I don’t trust anyone besides myself with your safety.”

You didn’t trust anyone. Especially not Feyd.

“Why should I be expected to sleep with you? I don’t feel comfortable-”

“I will kill anyone that lays a finger on you again. Let that pile of bodies act as a warning to anyone else that tries. That’s why you should be expected to stay here with me. Get in the bed.” He seemed tired. Aggitated.

“No.” You held strong. Never in your life had you slept in the same room as a man, let alone someone like Feyd-Rautha. He’d sooner kill you in your sleep then anyone else would.

“Come here.” His tone caused you to jump.

You had to bite your tongue as you approached him, sitting down awkwardly on the bed before you finally succumbed to his wishes. The bed was softer than your own, which you immediately envied. The soft mattress enveloped you, and all at once the tiredness you hadn’t felt until then finally sank in.

You didn’t put up much more of a fight. Your eyes were beginning to close on their own accord. Feyd was watching you, turned on his side so that he could get a better look at you. It was then, for the first time ever, that you fully noted how beautiful he was. Up close like this he was even more striking. Blue eyes, full lips and pale, flawless skin.

One thing that went unnoticed by you was the fact that Feyd didn’t turn the lights off.

Without having to ask. . . he didn’t turn the lights off.

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ೃ࿔ savage bonds taglist:

@elf-punk @shitfuckeryclownverse @mydarlingelvis @heartarianagran @ohdearmaggie @chalametism @killingboredom @obsessedvibee @avidreader73 @softboo @tedcruzumakii @luminnara @narniansmagic @torchbearerkyle @ziggy-stardust-world @tian-monique @adoxra @zz-snow-zz @tiredsleepyhead @icontrolthespice @itsparksjoyhuh @verveta345 @shegatsby @zae5 @ertepla @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @lotus-888 @meetmeatyourworst @moonchild-artemisdaughter @abswifey @flower-frog @auroranodyssey @forgedfromthestars @moony-artemis @juliskopf @moonsoulk @serrendiipty @atrxidxs @the-ruler-of-death @mintoblobo @just-pure-trash @randominterwebthings @springholland @so-dramatic1 @ashy-kit @aslutforscarletwitch99 @sofia-013 @gamorxa @ricecakeslove @alexandrainlove @selfishlittlebeing @ceres27

#feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune #austin butler #austin butler x reader #smut #dune smut #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune x you #dune fanfiction #feyd rautha fic #austin butler fic

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deadsetobsessions · 4 months

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“Tim. Timmy. Ancients, kid, what are you doing?!”

Danny Phantom smacked away the instinctual terror of seeing an eight year old dangling out of a third story window.

“I gotta go take pictures of Batman and Robin! They’re out tonight!”

Danny thought that his barely healed vivisection wound might bust open from the sheer stress.

“Setting aside how you even know the patrol schedule of honest to god vigilantes, why’d you choose the window? The house is literally empty, just walk out the front door, for Ancient’s sake.”

Tim paused, a motion Danny was overwhelmingly thankful for, and blinked sheepishly.

“Um… for the aesthetic?”

Danny allowed the silence to settle between them before dropping his head into his waiting hands. Tim panicked.

“You- you can’t stop me!”

And yeah, Danny really can’t. In the months he’s been mooching off of the Drakes (not that they’ll notice), Danny’s learned that Tim Drake is nothing but relentless in the pursuit of whatever he sets his mind on. Whether thet might be putting hot chocolate in his cereal (which Danny doesn’t actually mind) or, apparently, stalking a pair of vigilantes.

He wanted to hack into the library cameras? Danny had to hover just to make sure the kid didn’t get caught after arguing for an hour about it.

He walked out of that argument with a loss, yes, but he also let Tim know that Danny cared about him. Danny also walked out of that argument with a new hatred for Janet and Jack Drake and his mind (just as diabolical as Tim’s) whirring with plans to haunt them.

Tim is never ever introducing his new little brother to Tucker. Ever.

“Okay. I don’t want to see you take unnecessary risks, but I’m also aware that I can’t really stop you. So. I’ll go with you.”

Maybe this is like… Tim’s obsession? When he put it that way, Danny lost the fight to prevent this tiny kid from what clearly is the only joy in his poor life.

“But…!” Tim’s eyes darted to Danny’s chest, the vivisection scars still fresh in his mind.

“They’re healed.” Danny pulled his dumbass little brother off the window sill, core settling as Tim follows willingly. “I’ll make us invisible and fly with you behind Batman and Robin so you can get even better shots. You can’t make any noise, though. That camera got a shutter sound, right?”

“Yeah!” Tim’s face brightened and Danny melted. He shoved a bottle of the (incredibly stinky but helpful in a pinch) ecto contaminated tap water into a backpack, along with some snacks and a blanket for when Tim gets cold. Danny’ll be fine, he’s got a Space Core. The cold his kind of his thing.

“Cool. We’ll stay out of earshot. If things starts to get too dicey, we’re heading home, okay?”

“Okay!” The look Tim shot him is full of trust and adoration and it makes Danny’s human heart squeeze painfully. “C’mon! I don’t want to be late!”

“We need to talk about your stalking tendencies later,” Danny said fondly.

“I’m not stalking them! I’m observing them!”

“Uh-huh,” Danny drawled, picking Tim up and making them intangible and invisible. “They’re not a bird observatory and also, even the birds in the observatory knows they’re being watched. Batman and Robin clearly doesn’t.”

Danny felt more than saw Tim’s pout.

He laughs as they fly just below the Gotham-brand of toxic smog. He waves to the City’s Spirit as Tim cranes his head around to catch sight of Batman and Robin.

“There!”

Danny obliged. With Danny’s flight, Tim got much better- much closer- photos than he would have originally.

Danny hung back as the pair of vigilantes swooped down to take care of a mugging.

“Wanna mess with them?” He grinned down at his little brother, canines glinting.

Tim looked up at him, admiration and mischievousness in his gaze. “Yes.”

Gotham parted her clouds in response to their glee.

——

Dick Grayson, AKA Robin, finally understood why criminals are so creeped out by him.

Other than the whole flippy child kicking grown people’s asses and winning thing, obviously (that, and Batman loomed menacingly behind him everytime a criminal even looked at Robin wrong).

Batman had picked up on it first, but the for entirety of their patrol, they kept hearing eerie little giggles and laughter. Haunting them. Never distracting. But persistent. And so creepy. He got goosebumps.

“B, I wanna go home.”

“Hm.” That’s a resounding yes if Dick’s ever heard one.

Maybe Alfred can chase away the giggles and chuckles.

Robin shudders and follows the Bat home.

——

Danny lowered the temperature as he held Tim up near Batman’s cowl so his brother could giggle menacingly. He knew for a fact that any recording device would get completely cram led by the sheer output of ambient ectoplasm he’s emitting. Plus, it freaked Robin out and raised the hairs on the back of the vigilantes’ heads. He tones it down when he noticed Tim rubbing his hands together.

He let out a quiet laugh, enjoying the flight with his brother in his arm and the light of the stars (thanks, Gotham) at his back.

——

Danny: oh, this kid’s got an Obsession, gotta let him do it safely, he’s a liminal from all that tap water

Danny: *forgets Tim isn’t a ghost nor is he from Amity and is therefore extremely breakable*

——

Danny and Tim: doing crime is a good bonding activity

Batman and Robin, who wants to say no it isn’t but they’re literally a pair of illegal vigilantes:

——

Dick as Robin: *cackles*

Tim, learning habits from stalking them: *giggles*

Gotham Criminals: *fear*

#danny phantom #bamf danny phantom #dick grayson #tim drake is a menace #tim drake #baby tim drake #Tim Drake is a little shit #Danny Phantom is a little shit #they’re messing with the bats #and getting away with it #inspired by dick’s iconic Robin cackle #that creepy lil shit #i love them your honor #they’re brothers your honor #Gotham’s F grade tap water #thanks scarecrow #Gotham’s tap water #dc x dp #dp x dc

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writing-fanics · 3 months

Text

don’t mess with the devil

Part ii

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

[warning: angst: mentions of death: death?]

Your movements became sluggish. The wound on your side bleeding more and more with each movement, and swing of your angelic weapon. “Can’t even hold a weapon.” Adam mocked, as she glared at him. Already tired and she looked down at her wound. “Who would’ve thought a fucking human, making a deal with the devil.”

“Was it for dick? It was for dick wasn’t it?” Adam laughed, and mocked. You let out a battle cry flying towards him.

You screamed in pain, as the yellow light shot right through your wing. Your wings started going weak, as you struggled to keep up with Adam’s attacks. He laughed and cackled, taking enjoyment in your struggle.

“Where’s your little boyfriend huh?” He mocked, as more and more yellow shots kept hitting your body. Until you could barely keep your body up, “awe, is he not coming to scared to show his fa-”a fist punched, Adam in the face. Causing him to let go of your chin, but you didn’t fall instead.

A pair of familiar arms held you, “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t be here sooner,” said Lucifer, as he nuzzled his head against his partner. Then lifted his head and glared at Adam, eyes fuming with rage.

“Sorry, for being so stubborn.” You mumbled, knowing this was the reason he didn’t want you to fight. Even though, he gave you some of his powers. You were still a human. He nuzzled, his head against yours once more. “It’s okay,” He said, as he landed on the rooftop.

He handed you off to Charlie, his daughter taking your injured body into her arms. She looked down at you worriedly, as you took shallow breaths. Your face battered cuts and bruises covered your face, and your right eye was swollen. Landing on the rooftop, walking towards Adam.

“Huh? Okay? Seriously?” Adam panted, as he stood up slowly. “How many of you freaks do I have to fight?!” He shouted, glaring at them.

Lucifer rolled up his sleeves, as he walked towards Adam. “Oh, I’m the only one that matters.” said Lucifer, as he looked up at Adam angrily.

“See, you messed with my daughter and my partner.” his eyes burning with rage. “and now I’m toning to fuck you!” he shouted, and everyone went silent as they stared at him dumbfounded.

Charlie leaned over, “It’s fuck you up dad?” Charlie whispered, and he looked confused as he raised his eyebrow, “Wait what did I say?” He said, and then Adam flew towards him sending them both into a wall. But Lucifer transformed into a white snake.

You could barely keep your eyes open, as the pain became worse. You didn’t know how much blood you were losing, but knew it was a lot. You were just a mere human, a human who fell in love with the king of hell. Him inevitably giving you some of his power in an act of love.

Your memories of how you ended up in Hell, a blur. You still figuring out a way to at least see your family again. But now that seemed to be in vain. You wondered if this was how it was going to end for you. You wondered, what would happen to you a human dying in hell?

Would you be dead forever no second life? Or would you just enter purgatory?

“So, this is what you’ve been up to since Eden?” said Lucifer, taunting him.

“Gotta say, you really let yourself go buddy.” He said, as he taunted Adam.

Adam laughs, as he grabbed Lucifer by the tail. “You judgin’ me?” He shouted angrily, as he tried to throw him. But he transformed again, this time into a duck. “You’re the most hated being in all of creation.” Adam shouted, angrily looking at him.

“Well, your first wife didn’t seem to hate what I had to offer.” said Lucifer, as he made a V shape with his fingers and dragged it downward from his mouth.

“or the second.” He said looking Adam straight in the face, “Bow-chicka-wow-wow.” He said, as he backed away making a thrusting motion with his hips. Adam lunched at him, and Lucifer transformed into a horse. Kicking him around, “I’ll fuckin’ end you!!” Adam shouted.

Your vision started to blur, as you leaned your head against the wall You didn’t want to die not like this, not without seeing your parents again. Wondering if they’re worried about their missing child, who they haven’t seen in almost a year.

You’ve been stuck in Hell for that long. Lucifer and You, still figuring out a way to get you back. But you always promised that you’d stay in Hell with him, and visit your friends and family once in a while.

Maybe this was to be your fate, dying in Hell. Where would your soul go? You couldn’t imagine the heartbreak your death would bring to both, Charlie and Lucifer. You couldn’t bear the thought of seeing them cry, you’ve grown to love them so much. Seeing Charlie as a child of your own.

Lucifer your partner. The best thing to ever come out of being trapped in Hell. He was so kind and caring, when he found out about your situation. Wanting to help you anyway he could, which led him to falling in love. How his heart swelled whenever you smiled at him, turning his cheeks red.

How seeing you cry made his heartache, knowing you missed your family and friends back on earth. How when that ‘Red Bastard’ at the Hazbin Hotel, took your hand and kissed him while staring mockingly at Lucifer. Boiled his blood.

A smiled grew across your lips, as you grew tired. You were too tired to even notice the beam of light, heading straight towards the hotel. Towards you. Everything went dark.

Y/n?

Y/n!

who’s calling my name?

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #Hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer imagine #Hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #x reader #fanfic #angst #headcanons #romance #Hazbin hotel x you

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ghouljams · 8 months

Text

Fuck me. Dilf!fae!Ghost.

You watch Simon bounce your daughter in his arms, humming to her quietly as he tries to settle her down for her nap. You're busy transferring his t-shirt to the drier after some hefty spitup earlier, and you can't say you're disappointed he hasn't grabbed a new one. He looks good with a baby and some stubble, very parental. Oh my god.

Oh my god he's a fucking dilf. A dilf that you get to f on the regular.

"I'm gonna put 'er down," Simon tells you, his voice low enough not to wake the sleeping infant in his arms. Coincidentally also low enough to make you shiver. You don't know if he notices but you don't care. You have bigger problems, like how did you not notice such a major milestone in your man's life? You have to make him and award, you have to give him a reward.

He kisses your cheek as he brushes past you to the nursery and you can't not fuck him.

When Simon comes out of your daughter's room you are on your knees faster than he can get the door closed. Your fingers are already working to get his fly open as he scrambles to get a hand in your hair. You push his jeans and boxers down in one well practiced motion. He's not hard, but you still sigh at the sight of him. Perfect as always, fuck you love his cock.

You press your lips to his stomach, lick the coarse curly hair that trails from his belly button to his cock, and stroke his length with your hand. Simon, to his credit, tips his head back to tap against the door with a sigh. You pull back to spit in your hand, watching him as you work his cock. He's so fucking pretty. Scars, fucked up nose, the softness around his middle, all of him is just gorgeous.

You duck your head to give his balls some attention, rolling your tongue over them before pressing sucking kisses to the sensitive skin. He groans low in his throat, his fingers tight in your hair, almost insistent as he keeps you held close. His balls feel so heavy on your tongue, you wonder when the last time you fucked was. It hasn't been more than a week you don't think but with the baby everything has been so busy. This is well fucking needed then.

You drag your tongue up from his balls to his cock, working around your hand to slick his length. You lap at the head collecting his precum on your tongue before wrapping your lips around him and sucking. Pretty fucking boy, you think watching Simon watch you, his long lashes fluttering as you stroke his cock with the bob of your head. You move your hand to grip his thich as you slide your lips down to the base, moaning around the thick cock down your throat. He stretches you out so nicely. You wiggle your head a little to feel his girth shift, to feel your nose drag through his public hair, to feel the suppressed gag that makes your eyes roll back. God you are made for him.

Made to purr around his cock until he tugs on your hair to remind you what you're supposed to be doing. You ignore the throbbing between your legs in favor of bobbing your head up and down his length. Only pulling off to breathe and spit on his cock, more slick to help the slide of your lips. You roll his balls in your spit slick hand, squeezing them gently as you suck his cock until you feel them pull tight. Then Simon presses you back down to take his cock whole as he bucks down your throat.

"Fuck baby, tha's a good girl, take it all," he groans, spilling down your throat. You swallow, try to keep your eyes on him when you'd really love to be staring at your brain, and let him use your mouth to finish. A few shallow thrusts as he catches his breath and he's pulling out.

You stay on the ground, stick your tongue out to make sure he sees you've swallowed everything. Simon gives you a pleased hum, fucking two fingers into your mouth. In and out over your tongue before he thinks better of it.

"What's this about?" He asks, his voice thick. Oh, you love his sex voice, he could still go another few rounds.

"Congrats on your new status as a DILF," you tell him without missing a beat.

"Mm," he hums, "you want me to call you mommy now?"

"Maybe," you hadn't considered that, this does make you a MILF, huh.

"Alright," Simon crouches and grabs your arm, hauling you up over his shoulder as he stands, "Let's go make another baby momma."

That is a very promising statement.

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illyrianbitch · 29 days

Text

What We Make of What We’re Made

Pairing: Acheron!Reader x Azriel

Summary: When Azriel overhears Feyre's concern about your transition to fae life, he agrees to check on you.

Warnings: mentions of previous trauma and hardship, fluff :)

Word Count: 3k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

“I’m worried about her, Rhys. Really worried.”

Although Feyre’s voice was quiet, Azriel could sense the worry that coated it from where he stood down the hallway, the sound of her voice leaking through the cracked door of Rhysand’s office. It was a quiet morning, lazy almost, as Azriel walked around the townhouse. His shadows danced along the walls next to him, matching the pace of his walking as he approached the open door.

“Worried about who?”

Feyre let out a small sound of surprise, turning her head towards where Azriel now stood, a delicate hand flying to place itself above her heart. Even with the time that passed, she never quite got used to how stealthy the shadowsinger could be, how easily he was able to quiet the sounds of his own footsteps with the lively shadows he called his own.

“Oh, Azriel,” Feyre said, giving him a small, soft smile. “Good morning.”

Az gave her a quick smile back, dipping his head ever-so-slightly in a gentle greeting. His gaze bounced between her and Rhys, who gave him a simple raise of his eyebrows in acknowledgement.

“Who are you worried about?” Azriel asked again.

Rhys and Feyre exchanged a meaningful glance, and then Feyre let out a small sigh, turning to look at Azriel once more. There was a small furrow in her brow as she fiddled with her fingers.

"Y/n," she confessed.

Azriel’s face softened, his mouth turning into a small downturned frown. He felt a subtle shift in his shadows, as if they had responded to the sound of your name. Faintly, he felt their airy, cool, touch on his body as their large mass rose up his arms. He felt them settle at his shoulders, perched— alert, almost– as if they, too, were attuned to the conversation.

"I see.”

"Feyre is concerned that she may be having a harder time becoming fae than she has let on," Rhysand explained.

The crease between Azriel’s brows grew deeper as his gaze flickered between the two before him.

"Why?”

Feyre sighed again, giving a small shrug. There was a certain look in her eyes, a look that Azriel traced back to the day the King of Hybern turned you and your sisters into fae— forced you into fae. It was a look he was familiar with, one he often wore himself: guilt.

It was no secret that Feyre felt responsible for what had happened to you and your sisters. Although she spent those first few months away, Feyre felt it in her heart, the struggle you had all experienced. And she felt the guilt even deeper knowing that she wasn’t there to help. She didn’t hide it as well as she thought she did, that certain fear that she clung to of her sisters never truly forgiving her for what she felt was a personal betrayal. Or, perhaps, Azriel was just too good at his job.

"I've barely seen her,” she said, “I know that Nesta and Elain are having a difficult time, but at least I can see them. Be near them—as much as Nesta may hate it."

Azriel blinked. And then an unfamiliar feeling began to gnaw at his heart. Feyre was right. You hadn’t been around recently. Az had noticed, of course, as he tended to keep track of those in his circle, of the people he was expected to protect— at least to a degree. And you had, indeed, been gone more often than you were home.

In fact, he struggled to remember the last time you sat with them for longer than a few minutes before rushing off. With a small exhale, Azriel sent a few of his shadows down his body and out the door, pushing them to check your bedroom and report back to him regarding anything that might be of use.

“Well, maybe we could send Azriel to check on her?”

The sound of Rhysand’s voice called Azriel’s attention back to the conversation, and he cleared his throat in hopes that the motion would clear his mind as well.

Feyre's eyes widened slightly as she brushed a gentle hand across Rhysand’s forearm, turning to look at Azriel with a faint smile. "That's a great idea. You've been so sweet to Elain, Az. Maybe you could help Y/n, too. Would you mind?"

Her voice held a note of hope and Az found himself nodding gently.

"Of course not," He replied, "But if she's struggling, am I really who she would want to see?"

Rhysand frowned slightly before looking down at his mate. But Feyre simply shook her head, offering a reassuring smile as she said, "I think you'd be a breath of fresh air.”

"And you could get a better read of where she's at,” Rhysand added, “Maybe how we can help.”

Azriel nodded once more. In the same moment, he felt a few of his shadows return, slowly snaking up his legs to join the mass near his shoulders. Your room was empty, as it turned out, and the bed was cold. Wherever you had gone, you’d left quite a while ago— and you left no notice of where it was that you were running off to.

"I'll find her," Azriel affirmed. With a final nod to Rhysand and Feyre, he turned and left the room, his shadows trailing behind him.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It was nearing the later months of the year now, and there was a cool breeze that filled the air, not quite chilly enough to make him shiver, but enough of a nip to make the warmth of his leathers comforting. Azriel loved this time of year, loved the way the breeze kissed his cheeks and how refreshing it felt against his wings. It was a good time of year, a time to take a breath and prepare to start new— he quite loved the second part, the promise of a new start, of a chance to be better than who he was before.

Az slowly walked along the Sidra, his wings carefully and neatly tucked into his back. His posture was lazy, a small hunch in his shoulders as scanned his surroundings. He made himself as small as possible, not wanting to take up too much space, or worse, scare those around him. Specifically, he didn’t want to scare you if he happened to come across you.

But that was proving difficult at the moment. In truth, Az didn’t know where to look. His shadows were on alert, told to seek out any sign of you, any indication of where you might have disappeared to. He thought of all the quiet places nearby, of the corners in Velaris that may provide some darkness to shrewd in. But nothing quite came to mind. He let his thoughts wander as he continued his path.

Azriel felt guilty.

Sure, you weren’t his responsibility, but you were part of his family now— a sister of Feyre, of his High Lady. You were his to protect. And while Cassian had been working with Nesta, or attempting to and being shot down, Az had been tiptoeing around Elain when he wasn’t assessing the court for any more help needed for post-war rebuilding. Things had been quiet recently. And he had assumed, apparently wrongfully so, that you and your sisters would be able to properly acclimate now, to learn how to live as fae. He couldn’t speak much for Nesta, as she had distanced herself as soon as she could, but Elain— Elain had made slight progress. She was moving around the house, tending to her garden.

But you. You, he had not truly analyzed. There had been Nesta’s anger, Elain’s helplessness and utter fear, and you…. you had been silent. And ever since, you’d found something to busy yourself with— perhaps some distraction from the pain you’d forced yourself to deal with alone, he thought.

He should have kept a better eye. He had failed you, had failed his family.

He felt the faint, cool tug on his body, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Azriel clenched his teeth in frustration, stopping in his tracks as he looked down at his shadows once more, watching as few slithered towards the edge of the shops that lined the Sidra, the other shadows dancing around his wrists as if enticing him to follow.

He attempted to call them back, reel them in like energetic children, but they refused, continuing to veer off course and drawing his attention to a particular figure seated outside a quaint cafe. He threw the female a quick glance, taking in her sapphire coat and her hair tucked within it. He looked down at his shadows.

Stop it, Az scolded. Stay on track. Find Y/n.

But yet again, his shadows danced in between the cobblestoned roads towards the female.

She sat with her back to Az, her laughter ringing out like a melody amidst the chatter of the busy street. She was engaged in conversation with, who Az assumed was, the cafe owner, her gestures animated as the two talked.

Azriel paused. And then the female was moving her hands to her neck, lifting her hair and freeing it from where it lay underneath her coat. Instantly, a small breeze kissed Azriel’s nose, and he was hit with a scent of sweetness that had his wings falling slightly limp behind him.

It smelled like…you?

He slowly moved forward, brows furrowed together as he approached the female from behind.

The shop owner's conversation faltered as she took in Azriel's approaching figure, the words she had been speaking instantly dying off her tongue. Her eyes went wide for a moment before her face softened, and she offered a polite nod of acknowledgment.

From in front of him, you turned around, your head tilting up to meet Azriel’s eyes instantly.

And then you smiled.

His confusion deepened as he watched you, his previous expectations shattered by the sight of what Azriel could only describe as…joy.

“Azriel!” You said, “What are you doing here?”

Azriel’s eyes flickered between you and the shop owner as he swallowed.

“I-” He hesitated for a moment. His shadows danced around him. Happy, Joy, Content. “Feyre sent me.”

Your face fell into a small frown and you turned your head to face the shopkeeper once more.

“It was so nice talking with you, Liena,” you said softly, “And thank you so much for the treats.”

You motioned to a small empty plate before you, and the female smiled at you, leaning forward to grab it with her small hands. “Please come by anytime. We’re glad to have you here.”

You smiled at her, watching as she retreated back into her quaint little shop. Then, you turned to look up at Azriel once more.

“Feyre sent you?” You asked, “For me?”

Az nodded, eyes quickly flickering down to where his shadows seeped to trail near your ankles, he clenched his jaw slightly as he urged them to return, a sense of heated embarrassment filling his body— a sensation he wasn’t used to. Had never felt before, really.

“She's worried about you,” he finally managed to reply.

Az took a step back as you pushed your chair out, gently standing up and turning to face him. There was a gentle smile on your face, but your brows were furrowed as you stared at him through dark lashes. You brought your hand to your chest, hovering it over your heart. Just as Feyre does, Azriel noted. One and the same.

“She is?”

There was a trace of concern in your voice, but it wasn’t in the way he had expected. You seemed concerned that Feyre was worried— concerned as if she had no reason to be worrying at all. Azriel took a moment to scan your features, taking in your face, the way you stood, the clothes that adorned your figure.

You were beautiful, Azriel knew this. He had noticed it when he first met you and your sisters, standing with his brothers and Feyre. But comparing that female he first met to the one that now stood before him… the similarities were almost hard to find. You were glowing. There was a pink tint that coated your cheeks, the faint blush that painted your skin from the cool breeze. Your skin was full of color that had been missing those first few weeks after you’d been Made, and you wore a gentle smile that held a heavy warmth to it.

Happy, Joy, Content.

“She is,” he responded, “You’ve been gone a lot recently. She was concerned that you were struggling with being fae.”

You blinked, your mouth falling open slightly as you took in his words, and then your brows furrowed deeper.

“Oh my gods,” you said quietly, “I didn’t realize what Feyre might think.”

You let out a small sigh, gently tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. Azriel simply looked at you, his mind drawing blanks of what he could say. He couldn’t form the right words, at least not while his energy was being spent on pulling his shadows away from your body and back into his.

‘I know my sisters are struggling. And I was too,” you quickly added, “but I woke up one day and suddenly the sunshine seemed brighter and its rays were warmer, and all the sounds around me were more melodic than I’d ever heard.”

You stopped for a moment, grabbing a strand of your hair in your hands to twirl between your fingers before you continued. “I don’t know how else to describe it. And I didn’t want to be so happy around them. It felt wrong— like if I was betraying them somehow, for enjoying what we had been forced to become. So I stayed out of the house. At least, at the beginning. But now?”

You stopped again, but this time you made a soft gesture with your hand to your surroundings, too lost in your words to notice how a single shadow managed to hover around your extended hand. Azriel kept his gaze on you, unwavering and focused as you smiled once more, a small laugh leaving your lips. Without noticing, the corners of his lips turned up at the sound.

“Azriel, this city is beautiful. I would have never been able to experience something like this as human. We were unhappy, simply existing rather than living. But here? The food, the music, the energy.”

You fiddled with your hands as you shook your head gently, the smile never leaving your face.

“What happened to my family, to Nesta, to Elain, to Feyre,” you said, moving closer to look up at him. “It was cruel. And it wasn’t beautiful. But what I make of myself after it? That can be beautiful.”

There was something about the words that you spoke, how genuine your face was as you stared at him, that made Azriel’s heart clench. He felt silly, truly, for the sudden rush of emotion that washed over him like a tidal wave. You were happy, thriving even, and you’d been too worried about your sisters to share the joy. It was a different kind of selflessness than what he’d grown accustomed to seeing, a kind that he’d only seen in one other recently— your sister. His High Lady.

Happy, Joy, Content. His shadows sang once again. Happy, Joy, Content.

“I’m sorry Feyre sent you all this way for nothing. “

“No,” Azriel quickly said, much faster than he intended to. His gaze casted down towards the outstretched hand that he had instinctively placed on your shoulder. He quickly retracted it, not failing to notice the small frown that passed through your features. “It wasn’t a waste.”

You gave him a small laugh. “Well, anyways. I’m sorry for spewing that all onto you like some sick toddler. Thank you for coming to find me. It was very sweet.”

You cleared your throat, taking a step back.

“Please let Feyre know I’m alright and that I’ll be back tonight. But I’d like to explore a bit more. The weather is perfect today. Something about how…” You trailed off for a moment, looking up at the skies above you, closing your eyes for a second as a trail of wind swept past your face.

“The way the breeze kisses your cheeks?” Azriel said, his voice quiet and unsure. Where those words came, and what overcame him to say them, he wasn’t sure. But he didn’t feel like questioning them— not now, anyways.

You opened your eyes and looked at him once more. “Yes. Exactly.”

A small cool touch drew your attention down to your feet, your eyes watching as small, opaque tendrils of black shadows danced between you and Azriel. You admired them for a moment, and Az took in how excited your eyes were as you traced their motions.

“Well,” you said, straightening yourself up. “Thank you again for coming to find me. I’ll let you get back to your day.”

You gave a small nod before you were turning yourself around and walking towards the lively streets. As Azriel watched his shadows trail after you, he found himself calling out to your retreating form, “Y/n.”

You stopped. And then you turned to face him, arms now crossed against your chest. You tilted your head as he gave you a small, almost unsure, smile.

“Would you like me to show you around?”

You paused for a moment, as if you were considering the offer. He felt a flicker of fear in his gut, a new sense of embarrassment at the idea of you rejecting him. Perhaps he had intruded on your newfound freedom, placed himself where he shouldn’t be. But it was only an offer, was it not? And-

His thoughts died down as you smiled at him, your cheeks raising at the movement.

“Well then, what are you doing standing all the way over there for? I expect a full tour.”

Azriel let out a small chuckle, a fluttering sensation filling his chest as he followed the trail his shadows led to you.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria

1K notes · View notes

utterlyazriel · 12 days

Text

let me keep you company

a/n: a wee break from the doom & gloom of wtssf! it's unedited so i want no flack for that thank u <3 enjoy <3 wc: 5.1k whoops synopsis: You're studying in Velaris and a certain Shadowsinger catches your eyes in more than one way. It takes a while to realise the shadow keeping you company means more than you expect.

For the record, you had never met a Shadowsinger before.

You'd never even seen one. Sure, you’d read about them briefly in your studies and almost every Fae in Prythian had heard about them in whispers and rumours.

Rumours that increased more so when a Shadowsinger rose to become a hand for the Highlord, his own personal spy. Then became the spymaster of the entire Night Court for the next Highlord.

But beyond gossip and unfinished chapters within the scripts of your libraries, the knowledge of Shadowsingers is far limited. They’re rare. For all you know, Shadowsinger’s are a ghost— moving as a shadow, disappearing in and out of the darkness of the world.

You had never met a Shadowsinger before—so it makes sense that you hadn't an ounce of a clue what to expect.

Staring at him now, 6 feet something of pure muscle, you're a bit embarrassed at your own surprise.

Because he's probably— no definitely— the most beautiful Fae you've ever laid eyes on. His hair is tousled and dark, his glorious tan skin that's mostly hidden beneath the black of his fighter leathers, and his amber eyes that laid on you for only one long moment. Breathtaking is the only adequate word for him.

All that beauty and he's a Shadowsinger.

And it's not like you thought he wouldn't be like, well, any other Fae. But also... you kinda did? Mother, you should've known Freya was tricking you when she said they were all just shadow-y corporeal forms.

But she's also not entirely wrong there. There are dozens of wispy shadows that hover around him in constant motion, dipping and flying around his shoulders and if you look close enough, you can see how he seems to ripple at the edges. Shadows blur the edge of his very being.

You wonder if he can disappear into them all together, if that was one of the abilities granted with them. Does he control them? He must, you think, if the title is Shadowsinger.

But looking at him now, his beautiful face turned to face the Highlord you should definitely be listening to, they flit about almost absentmindedly, as though they have a mind of their own.

One curls up by his ear and you watch it, fascinated, more and more questions springing up in your mind— what do they feel like on skin? Do they make any noise? Is that what they're doing now? Talking to—

A sharp elbow jabs into your side, making you jump.

Your head whips to the side, an instinctive scowl almost overtaking your face before you plaster it over with a smile, realising your mistake. Your mentor, Sergei, clears his throat and smiles awkwardly ahead at Rhysand. You blink and take another moment to realise you've been asked a question.

"I'm— I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" You try not to sound as mousy as you feel but the question comes out as a squeak anyway. He is the Highlord of the Night Court after all. You suddenly feel very foolish for being so easily distracted.

Thankfully, Rhysand regards you with an easy smile. He's leaned back in his chair, relaxed, and his violet eyes dance with humour as he flicks his gaze over to where you had just been staring.

"That's alright. Azriel is a piece of eye candy, I can't blame you for staring," He all but purrs, a hint of mirth pulling at his lips as he casts another glance at his Spymaster. You're taken aback by the casualness of his words.

Rhysand continues. "I was only saying that for the duration of your stay, you'll be hosted in one of my homes, the House of Wind. You aren't afraid of heights, are you?"

A smidge of fear pinches at your stomach because, honestly, you aren't overly keen on the idea. But you know better than to turn down the generosity of a Highlord.

You take another glance at the wings of his Spymaster and General and pray that it's not too high up.

"Not... much." You answer honestly.

There's a chuckle from the side of the room and your head swings around at the noise. It's not the Shadowsinger, though he looks as though he's politely trying not to smile, his chin ducked. It's the General, just as beautiful as his brother but in that more rugged way.

He flexes his wings out a bit, showing off their mighty wingspan. "We'll rid you of that fear in no time."

You try for a smile but it might be closer to a grimace.

"Fantastic." You say, not managing to put all your enthusiasm into the word like you hoped.

Another sharp jab of Sergei's elbow in your side. The Shadowsinger, Azriel, huffs a quiet laugh, his amber eyes flashing up to steal another look at you. You try your best not to fluster.

It's going to be a long two months.

—

As Sergei's apprentice, you're expected to shadow him through his allowed time within Velaris.

Which means if he goes to the library, you go to the library.

There's just one problem; the library is down in the city and your temporary home is up in the mountain. The quickest way down is with wings.

Rhysand— or just Rhys as he had told you to call him— had relayed the information that you could ask either Cassian or Azriel to escort you if you didn't wish to take the stairs.

Cassian, the General, had been the one to fly you down and back the first couple of times you had asked and you weren't in any particular hurry to relive the experience.

Cassian was nice and he was more than friendly but seemingly incapable of understanding any fear of heights. You weren't sure if that was just the only way to fly— swooping and dropping fast enough to make you shriek— but it certainly seemed to be Cassian's way.

Which leaves you with the option of either asking the Shadowsinger or taking the stairs.

You get down about two hundred steps before you start to regret your decision. But, also, how in the Cauldron were you supposed to ask him to take you? (Never mind that you had asked Cassian quite easily, albeit very nervously.)

Oh, hi Shadowsinger who I can't stop staring at for both your abilities and your handsome face—care to sweep me into your arms and carry me places?

As if, you snort to yourself.

You take the thousand stairs all the way to the bottom and trot towards the enormous library, pretending your thighs aren't aching with overuse or that you're out of breath. Thankfully, the library itself isn't too far from the House of Wind, carved into the same side of the mountain.

As expected, Sergei is less than pleased with your tardiness.

"Sorry," The word rushes out of you in a wheeze, probably too loud for the library, as you scuttle in the entrance. A few priestesses turn their heads to look at you and you cringe, raising your hands in apology. "Sorry, I'm sorry,"

You focus back on your mentor and try to catch your breath, all while you explain. "I took the stairs and it took—" You huff out a breath. "—way longer than I thought."

Sergei's face softens a bit at your explanation, his face taking on a pitiful smile. "Still not enjoying the flying?"

"You are?" You ask in response. The thought of Sergei, your old-Fae mentor, swept up in Cassian's arms as he dips and dives makes you chuckle just a bit.

Sergei shakes his head as if to change the topic of conversation, deciding you've wasted enough time already. He turns, beginning to head further into the library and you follow behind him closely, eager to brush over your early morning fumble. The cavernous structure within the mountain yawns out ahead of you and you get all of two moments to wonder just how deep down it goes, when—

"You did not ask for a ride this morning."

Azriel steps up beside you, seemingly from nowhere, his steps falling in time with yours with ease. You jump, startled, and your footsteps falter for a moment. You're relieved to say that you only make one embarrassing noise in your surprise.

"I— oh, it's— I mean, I just..." You trail off, feeling flustered. "...like to walk."

You chance a glance up at him. He's wearing that same polite expression from yesterday, as though he's trying not to laugh and you get too caught up in the swirlings of his shadows to remember to be properly embarrassed. Both of you walk in tandem behind Sergei, slowly descending into the lower levels of the library.

"If you insist," He says, his voice low. It sends something warm down your spine and you pray he doesn't notice how your body temperature is definitely climbing.

His amber eyes pin you with another look, his lips twitching into a small smile. "However, if Cassian is giving you trouble, I would be happy to provide a smoother ride."

You flounder for a moment. You don't want to get anyone in trouble.

"I— he's not giving me trouble," You stammer.

Azriel smiles a little wider as if he can tell how polite you're trying to be. He slows to a meander and you realise only after you walk past him, it's because Sergei has stopped himself, turning down one of the many aisles.

You skid yourself to a halt and turn back, praying your flaming face isn't as obvious as it feels. You're not entirely sure if Azriel is accompanying you today but you're sure that Sergei would've mentioned it if he was.

You dip your head in a strange, awkward bow motion. Then point to the aisle Sergei disappeared into.

"I'll be... going this way."

Azriel's smile grows, like you've told a joke, and he ducks his head. He peers up at you through his dark lashes and you wonder if anyone's ever told him how damn beautiful he is. Probably. You're probably the last in a long line of people. Mother, his eyes though.

"If you don't wish to make the hike the other way," He murmurs.

He extends one of his hands and you watch the dozen shadows swarm around it, one of them separating from the pack to dive to the ground. It shoots forward and spins around your ankle, almost happily. "Just let the shadow know. I would be happy to assist."

When you look back up, he’s already gone without a sound. You try not to look so surprised— you’ve seen someone winnow before but you’re almost certain that the way Azriel moved about silently was something else altogether.

“Y/n!” Sergei’s voice echoes down the shelves, reminding you that you’re still late. You throw a quick glance around to check but it's fruitless; you can’t see the Shadowsinger anywhere.

You turn and bustle down the aisle quickly, not wanting to keep Sergei any longer. It takes only a second to notice the sole, black shadow that dances along behind you.

Guess you have company.

—

Okay, so, the shadows are definitely their own little guys.

Mainly because you can’t imagine how Azriel would be controlling them when he’s nowhere in sight.

And this one shadow is being awfully helpful.

The first time you drop your quill, knocking it to the ground as you lean over one of the many intricately carved desks, trying to reach another book, you don’t even notice it fall to the ground.

In fact, you have no idea how many times it’s picked up your fallen quill that you’ve undoubtedly knocked over countless times— only that it had given you the fright of your life to have it hover before your face, gripped only by the wispy shadow Azriel left with you.

“Holy shit!” You gasp, your loud voice echoing in the quietness of the library.

Sergei's head whips up, his eyes narrowing at the intruding sound with evident disapproval. You quickly snatch the quill out of mid-air and sink down in your seat. Gods, the echoes in here were doing you no favours.

“Sorry,” You whisper. Your eyes dart down to the shadow that retreated to your side, flickering around your ankle more wildly. “Er, thanks.”

It feels a bit silly to give thanks to something you’re not sure can hear you. But you figure if it can pick up your quill, you're better off using your manners.

Sergei gives you a somewhat bewildered look and you try to appease him with an awkward smile. It works enough for him to continue his work but not without one more lingering glance of worry in your direction. Great. You're talking to shadows and your old-man mentor thinks you're a bit nuts.

The shadow continues its helpful endeavours, following you when you head down different aisles at Sergei's request. It dances across the shelves, dissolving occasionally just to puff back up somewhere else, pulling your attention this way and that. It's playful. Friendly.

You deduce by the end of the day that you know even less about Shadowsinger's than you had thought. The abilities and personality of just one shadow are uncanny; like a silent friend keeping you company. You imagine that Azriel rarely gets lonely with as many as he has. Maybe you'll ask him.

When Sergei and you wind back up the staircases and he dismisses you for the evening, heading into the city for his own further business, you stand at the mouth of the library and ponder if you'll be brave enough to summon the Shadowsinger.

The shadow is still with you, circling your wrist absently. You peer down at it and think of all those stairs. Somewhat nervously, you raise your hand and try to be as casual as possible about talking to a shadow on your hand.

"Hi." You start, trying not to feel foolish. "Um, well, I guess I'm done for the day. Could— could you, if he's not busy that is, uh, let Azriel know? I don't mind waiting if he is."

The shadow zips off barely before you can finish your sentence and your head swings to watch it go, disappearing somewhere to your left.

You can't help but be a little amazed at its speed—it must be an incredible networking system to have a thousand little spies running around for you. No wonder almost all Shadowsingers tend to end up in the same line of work, you think to yourself, still peering in the direction of the shadow when—

"Y/n."

Even though he's said your name soft and quiet, Azriel still manages to take you by surprise. You jump and turn, all in one motion.

"Mother!" Your hand holds over your chest, relief curling in at the sides as your fright ebbs away. "That was fast."

"You called," Azriel responds, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. He gives you an almost shy smile.

It makes you fluster a bit and you gesture to the exit awkwardly and wordlessly, if only so you don't have to come up with a response to his intense and endearing answer.

Together, you wander out from the library and creep towards the edge of Velaris. It's a beautiful city and more than deserving of its title, especially when viewed from the House of Wind. You turn and cast your eyes up the mountainside, your familiar nervous fear pitching up from your stomach.

Then you look at the warrior beside you, tall enough that he's got what feels like more than a head's height on you, with his wings reaching above even his own head. His jaw is sharp and his eyes are already on you as your gaze trails up his face. Fuck. He's really pretty.

Now you're nervous for an entirely different reason.

"We can still take the stairs if you wish," He says, his hand sweeping back to the path you had followed along this morning. His shadows move with his hands, a black vortex that whirls around and around. "I'd be more than happy to keep you company."

Mother, he's not helping you in the slightest, being so perfectly nice to you. You regard the stairs and think back to how many hours it took before your thighs stopped aching—and that was on the way down.

"No, we can- we can try flying again." You say, nodding to yourself as if it'll help quell your fear. It takes another moment to realise that means you'll be bundled up in his strong arms, held against his broad chest and you feel a little shiver run through your body at the thought.

Azriel notices it too, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "You're sure?" He checks.

You nod, not meeting his eyes, trying to keep your nerve. Flying is already something you're not keen on. Flying whilst being swept up in the arms of a Shadowsinger who you think is the most beautiful Fae you've ever seen? You send a silent prayer to the Mother that you don't do something embarrassing, like puking down his front.

"Let me know if you're uncomfortable at any time," He says softly and then he bends his knees slightly, one of his scarred hands resting on your lower back as the other scoops beneath your knees. He lifts you as though you weigh nothing.

It's impossible not to flush as you get nestled against his firm chest, your hands panicking for a moment as you try to think of a normal place to put them. Around his neck? On his chest? Either of them feels far too intimate for a man you've known only a week.

"You don't have to but I would suggest holding on," Azriel comments with a smile, his chest vibrating with the words. You nod, agreeing with him, but don't make a move to do so, only holding your hands out in front of you to indicate you're not sure where to put them.

The shadows adorning his shoulders move on their own, their friendly presence easing your nerves as they slither down to circle around your wrists. There's a gentle tug and you let them move your hands til they're wrapped around Azriel's neck, moving you much closer in the process.

Gods, your faces are close together. Another couple of inches and you could probably press your lips to his perfect ones—a thought that makes you fluster all over again. Was he getting prettier every time you saw him? For not the first time, you thank the Mother that it was Rhys with the daemaeti gift and not Azriel.

"Ready?" He checks, which is sweet. Cassian had just shot up into the sky the first time, without any warning.

You grip your arms around his neck a little tighter and then nod. "Ready," You say, quieter than intended.

You catch just a moment of Azriel's demure smile, your heart swooping at the sight, before you're both launched into the sky with one flap of his wings.

The noise that escapes you is one you're less than proud of, a squawky sound noise of panic that you bury into Azriel's neck. You expect him to laugh like Cassian had, not meanly but playfully, but instead Azriel's arms just tighten around you. As if he was assuring you that he would not let you fall.

By the time you're up at the House of Wind, Azriel making a far more graceful descent than his brother, you're less freaked out and more ready to point some accusatory fingers in the face of the Night Court's General.

That bastard had been fucking with you! The flight with Azriel proved as much, considering how much calmer and smoother it had been. You couldn't help but say as much as you were placed down from Azriel's hold, glad to be back on solid ground.

"I have some words for Cassian, Mother above," You ramble, straightening out your rumpled clothes from the flight. "Did he think I was kidding when I said I was afraid?"

Azriel smiles at your fieriness, his shadows calmer than they were in flight, moving about lazily. His eyes take a fleeting glance at the house behind you before focusing intently back on you.

"Cassian can have a strange sense of humour at times. He means well." He says. Then he grins. "I should like to see you tell him off— not enough people do."

You hmph. "Maybe I will."

You suddenly realise the closeness between you and Azriel, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. His scent of cedar and mist swirls around you, tantalizing and alluring in a way you've never known before. You take a step back to contain yourself.

"I—uh, well, thank you very much." You say, as sweet as you can. "For the ride."

Your eyes catch on one of his dozen shadows and you smile, observing them for a moment. "And the shadow. It was excellent company."

Azriel brightens, an expression of surprise crossing his face before he schools it away. He smiles, brazen and breathtaking. When he speaks, he sounds a little disbelieving. "You like them?"

You nod quickly, noticing how one of his shadows has snuck off again and circulates your ankle speedily. You laugh at the ticklish feeling of it against your skin.

"They're incredible." You breathe, meaning every word. "I imagine you must've ge—"

"Apologies, y/n." A smooth voice cuts in, Rhys stepping up somewhere behind you and stealing both of your attention. He dressed in more casual clothes than you last saw, but not quite Azriel's fighting leathers. "Azriel here is needed for some brief business. Do you mind if I borrow him?"

The way he poses the question, as if Azriel is yours, does something wonky to your heart. You flounder for a moment, stepping back and waving your hand in the direction of the Shadowsinger.

"Of- of course, by all means." You trip over the words and hope you don't sound too eager to escape his company. That couldn't be more untrue.

You turn back to Azriel and fix him with a smile, hoping it's not as nervous as you feel. "I'll... see you around?"

Azriel steals a glance to the side where Rhys awaits before he nods with another reserved smile. Hold on, is that pink on his cheeks?

"Let me know if you need any more help getting to and from the library. I'd be happy to assist."

And then with a quick nod to you, he walks off to join Rhys, his wings tucked in tight, careful to not nudge you. You watch them go, unable to stop yourself from letting your eyes wander down. Damn, all that training did wonders. What was that saying? Hate to watch 'em go, love to watch them leave.

Ahead, Rhys abruptly laughs and peers back over his shoulder, letting you exactly how well you had shielded those thoughts. You flush and scurry into the house as if it'll save you from the embarrassment of what's just happened. You only hope he won't pass the message on to Azriel.

—

It continues like that for the rest of the week.

Azriel carries you down the height of the mountain and leaves you with a promise that if you need anything, you can tell the shadow and he'll come to find you.

The shadow keeps its usual playful company. Beyond retrieving your dropped quills, it helpfully turns the pages of books for you. When you're focused on what you're writing, it nudges back any loose strands of hair. Once it even brings you a flower from Mother knows where. One single Lily of the Valley, left resting on your desk.

It makes you wonder; are all Shadowsinger's shadows like this? You can't help but imagine these niceties are shaped by Azriel's own soft nature.

Today, whilst you study in the vast caverns of the library, you get an unexpected visitor.

As you take your time scanning through the books in one of the vast aisles, you realise the Fae coming down from the other end of the aisle is none other than the Highlady herself.

"Feyre!" You greet warmly. The two of you had met before when she had taken duties in your home court and if it weren't too bold, you'd say you consider yourself good friends. Feyre smiles, glowing like moonlight, as she realises who it is.

"Y/n," She says your name sweetly and her hug is just as such. She pulls away, ready to inquire about your studies when she spots the trailing shadow behind you.

"Making friends, I see," She comments. Her eyebrows raise almost teasingly as if she's made a certain insinuation. You take a moment to notice what she's referencing.

"It's nice," You say, a defensive lilt to your tone. You hold out your hand and the shadow jumps at the opportunity to skitter around it playfully. "It's like a little friend."

Feyre smiles at your words but chuckles a little. "Except Azriel is anything but little."

You pause at her words, glancing down at the shadow and back up at Feyre. "What do you mean? I thought— they're not- I mean, aren't they...?”

You trail off, unsure of how to word the question you're trying to ask. Feyre smiles, her gray eyes glittering with mirth as she realises what you're figuring out.

"They're all his. Azriel's. He controls them." She tilts her head a bit, watching the shadow that drifts about your hand and wrist. "True, they roam a bit on their own but... Not like this."

"Oh," You murmur, thinking back to that first day in the library.

The playful shadow that lead you back and forth, picking up your quill and turning your pages. It was him, all along.

Something immeasurably warm starts to glow in your chest, a thread that loops through your heart and sends the valves into overdrive. Its warmth grows, something molten hot beginning to bleed in your chest— and it feels wonderful. It feels right.

"Oh," You gasp as you figure it out.

Feyre grins, watching you piece together what the rest of the inner circle has clued together from the very first day. She stands to the side and gestures to the entrance of the library with a tilt of her head.

"Go on then," She urges you.

For a moment, you think back to Sergei who sent you hunting for a certain manuscript Cauldron knows how long ago but the thought is washed away in an instant. You can feel it now, the strong tug in your chest. The connection that binds you to another.

You stride past Feyre, giving a quick thanks! and all but run up the spiral staircases, heading for the entrance. The shadow pings along with you and as you near the top, you look down at it and say through huffed breaths, "You better go get him."

He's waiting by the time you get there.

Against the setting sun, for a moment there's only the silhouette of him— a warrior with tall wings, the edges of him rippling like a mirage. He might just be one; an oasis in your life, the answer that you've been searching for for centuries. You can't believe you didn't notice.

Your footsteps echo on the marble as you march right up to him and Azriel watches you closely the whole time, his amber eyes soft but his expression hinting at his nervousness. Gods, he's wonderful. You can't believe he gets to be yours and you get to be his.

"How long have you known?" You ask because it's the first thing on your mind. You're nearly panting from the exhilaration of your sudden exercise, from the dawning future that's blooming right in front of you. He's your mate. Gods, how could you have missed it?

Azriel smiles, that same tentative one that's been driving you crazy all week. His wings give a little shake behind him, a giveaway of his nerves.

"I... suspected from the beginning." He chooses his words carefully, wary of how you might respond.

You can't help your little gasp, feeling even more of a fool. You curse, ducking your head before you glare back up at him, no real heat in your gaze. You have the urge to give him a little shove, just for keeping you in the dark.

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

One of his shadows spins up unexpectedly, dancing across your shoulders and tickling your cheeks gently. You startle in surprise but something sweeter curls up in your chest at the tenderness of its touch.

"Believe me," Azriel says with a quiet chuckle, his amber eyes darting over your face intensely. "I've been trying."

You melt. Eyes locked with his, you move slowly, letting your arms drift up to drape around his neck like they've done every morning and evening since he began flying you around. You realise acutely that Cassian's behaviour, his shoddy flying, had likely been on purpose. You laugh a little, eyes creasing shut in pure euphoria.

Azriel's hands find your waist and you can feel the slight tremble in them.

"In my defense," You murmur, pushing up on your toes. You're close, so close, your lips hovering just an inch from a kiss—his shadows go wild around you both. It makes you grin. "I had never met a Shadowsinger before."

"Yeah?" Azriel breathes shakily. "Disappointed?"

He says it like a joke but you can hear the note of sincerity in his tone. His hidden worry that he isn't all you dreamed of. It's nearly laughable how wrong he is.

This close you can see his long lashes and every shade of brown in his eyes. You wonder if you'll ever get used to how beautiful he is. Part of you hopes you never do.

"Not in the slightest," You say, nearly a whisper.

Then his lips are on yours, pillowy soft skin against yours, and it feels like coming home. He kisses you, kisses you, kisses you til you're breathless and the glow in your chest could rival the sun in its warmth.

He kisses you and every atom in your body hums and fizzes and comes to life — and all you can do is hold him tight and kiss him back, just as fiercely.

Breaking the kiss to catch your breath, you pant and grin brazenly at Azriel, at your mate, happier than you've ever been. Faintly, you realise that you won't be heading home when the two months of your study are up after all.

Not when you have a man who looks at you so reverently, who kisses you like there's oxygen hidden in the plush of your lips, who holds you like there's nothing more precious in the world.

Not when you know that home is right here, in front of you.

#YIPPEE! written in like... 3 days #no editing less go #love it or leave it #a break from all the doom and gloom of wtssf #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x you #acotar fanfiction #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger x you #sloane writes

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ravenslvt · 2 months

Text

why does your best friend's older brother have to be so hot?? :(((

☆ suna rintarou x fem!reader (pt.1) ☆

cw: smuut! p in v, v fingering, fluffy, lowk sweet, implied virgin reader, unprotected sex.

pt. 2 pt.3 pt.4

you sigh at the empty water bottle on the nightstand. you look over at your best friend, ami. she was fast asleep. you smiled, glad you were able to visit her on your break from university. you were grateful her parents let you stay over while they were out of the country for some sort of work meeting.

back to the important matter, your thirst. you slowly get up, trying not to wake your dark haired bestfriend. grabbing the tin water bottle and tiptoeing downstairs, making sure to close the door to her bedroom quietly on the way out.

you walk through the familiar halls of the house you’ve known since you were young. all the lights were off except the kitchen light.

walking in, you notice your bestfriend’s hot ass older brother, rintarou, leaning against the kitchen island on his phone. he was wearing his usual loose sweatpants, and a tight fitting t-shirt from your old highschool. it used to be loose on him, it was clear he’s been working out more and gained more muscle. his head perks up, he pauses whatever he was watching and speaks.

“hey, didn’t think anyone was still awake.” his voice is low and a little hushed.

you don’t notice the way his eyes go to your attire, small little sleep shorts and a tank top.

you notice he’s heating something up in the microwave as you reach the fridge, unscrewing the cap to your water bottle to refill it. you watch as the bottle slowly fills, talking to him.

“ami fell asleep and i was thirsty. she always passes out so fast” you softly chuckle. she was always the first to fall asleep at sleepovers, even in your childhood. girl was a deep sleeper.

“mmm” he simply hums, returning back to looking at his phone.

you turn back to face him, taking a refreshing sip of water.

“whatcha watchin?” you lean on your elbows against the counter, peering over at him.

your relationship with suna rintarou was…. friendly to say the least. he was only a year older than you and ami, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a (fat) crush on him since middle school.

you remembered the exact moment your crush on him had started. you and ami were twelve and rintarou was thirteen. you were at the suna’s family beach house for summer break.

you and ami relaxed in the sun, reading your assigned reading books together and laughing over how dumb you guys thought the plot was.

“seriously, this guy is so lame. he just mopes around and smokes cigarettes all day. dude’s gonna have lung problems” ami rolled her eyes at a certain line of the book.

you giggled and opened your mouth to say something to agree. until a volleyball came flying at you full speed. your eyes widened and you just froze. you two were aware rintarou and some of his friends were playing a game of beach volleyball a few feet away.

you flinched and put your arms up quickly in defense, but never felt impact. you look up to see a teenage rintarou who dived to grab the ball before it hit you.

“you good?” he called your name to get your attention. you just nodded, hiding the flushed state of you face with your book. he made a comment on how he read it in english class last year and if you needed any help on the work, he had your back.

“go away, rin. she doesn’t need your c- average help” his sister retorted as he walked back to his friends. he turned his head to give a small chuckle. you never forgot his smile since then.

back in the present, he takes his eyes off his video for a moment to look back at you.

“my game replays. hey, come watch this and tell me if you think furuhashi fucked us over with this serve” he did a ‘come here’ motion. you were at his side within a moment.

you peered at the phone screen over his shoulder. his phone looked so small compared to his large hands. he replayed the video for you to watch. you focused on the teamate he pointed to and it looked like he did a purposefully bad set, aiming right at the opponents head.

“ouch. seemed like he had personal beef with number eight….” your face scrunched in the way the opponent immediently fell to the floor from such a powerful blow.

“yeah, dude let his emotions get the best of him and got the rest of us in trouble with the ref for it” he shuts his phone off, sighing.

“you have another game next week, right? ami wanted me to go check you guys out.” you grab your bottle from the counter.

taking another sip of water, a small droplet spills past your mouth, down your neck, and disapears into the curve of your breasts. you notice the way his eyes follow the bead of water.

his eyes meet yours. and before he can open his mouth, the microwave beeps loudly. he quickly gets up to take the food out with a quick curse, hoping the obnoxious beeping didn’t wake anyone up.

he takes the steaming plate out of the appliance. you notice he heated up some cold pizza you guys ordered earlier in the night.

your eyes go back to his broad shoulders and arms, down to his large veiny hands. he’d matured a lot more since you’d seen him last.

you caught yourself staring, starting to feel a little awkward. you suddenly start to get a little hot, despite what little clothes you wore. you step away to leave the kitchen. your thoughts ran rampet of his hands. you pictured them touching your hair, your arms, your-

“where are you going?” his eyes are only on you now, his arms leaning against the counter to look at you.

“i- um should probably get back to ami” you gulp.

“why? isn’t she asleep? come hangout with your real favorite suna” he smirks, taking a peice of the hot pizza into his mouth.

you roll your eyes and fake scoff.

“don’t let your sister hear you say that, she might believe it” you cross your arms, eyeing him.

he swallowed, wiping his mouth with a napkin and smiling.

“i mean, it’s the truth. isn’t it?” god he was so cocky today. but you loved it.

“and what makes you think that, rin?” you played along. you step a little closer, this time you lean your elbows on the counter facing him. accidentally giving him a front row view of your cleavage through your thin top.

you see the way his eyes drop to your tits. oh you had him.

“cause, you think i’m cuter” his eyes flicker back to your own. he shrugs casually, a smug smirk on his face. his food now forgotten in his mind. only thing he wanted now was you.

“sure, whatever you want to think.” you sarcastically remark back.

he laughs, circling the kitchen island so now you had nothing between you except about a foot of space.

“oh i don’t have to think it, pretty. i know it” shit, he was getting closer and your heart was only beating faster.

“you’re delusional, rintarou.” you aren’t laughing anymore, smile fading to a more serious demeanor. you were nervous and he could tell.

he smiles, running a calloused finger down your arm. it left a trail of fire down your skin and your breath hitched.

“is that why you’re always staring at me. you think i don’t notice?” his voice is lower now, quieter.

fuck. he knew.

“as if you don’t oogle at me whenever i’m in a swimsuit.” you refuse to look away from his gaze.

he lets out a small chuckle. it was hypnotizing.

“i ‘oogle’ you no matter what you wear” he admits, almost proudly.

you eyes widen for a moment. you try your best to hold it together. his hand played with the ends of your hair. you two had never stood this close before.

you felt the flimsy fabric of your panties start to dampen.

“what’s got you all quiet?” his hand moves from your soft locks to hold your chin, forcing you to look right at him.

“screw you, rin” you retort, flustered. he snorts.

“you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” his face only got closer to yours.

you guys were so close, you had forgotten you weren’t the only two in the house.

“in your dreams-“ you start.

“knock that shit off. admit you want this as bad as i do” he says your name. your faces were now inches apart. his eyebrows furrowed and he just looked so attractive. he was studying your expressions, his eyes never leaving your face.

“rin i-“ you start again. this time his lips hover over yours, ghosting over your own.

“tell me to stop and i’ll go back up to my room and we will never speak of this again.” his hand moves to cup your cheek, his forhead resting on your, giving you a chance to pull away.

but you didn’t want to pull away and he didn’t either.

finally, after what seemed like years of tension, you snapped. going up on your tipy toes to crash your lips on his.

his hands immediately draw to your waist, holding you as close as possible while your hands wrap in his soft dark brown locks.

years of unresolved feelings and tension all poured into one heated kiss.

his hands gripping your waist moves down to your hips, he turns you so your rear is against the counter. how convinient his hips are the perfect height for the kitchen island.

you let out a soft gasp as he bites your bottom lip, he smirks and gently prods his tounge into your mouth, seeking permission first. you lean your head back to let him kiss you deeper.

he was fully addicted to your lips.

he pats your hip and you take it as a sign to hop on the marble counter, he helps you jump up. he slots himself inbetween your thighs, your lips never pulling apart.

“fuck. i can’t believe i haven’t tasted you sooner” he says in between kisses. you giggle at the way he refuses to pull apart from you.

he just grips your waist tighter, his cold hands slipping under the fabric of your tank top. you gasp as he reaches for your bare tits, lifting the fabric to rest above your breasts. you never wore a bra around him. and of course he always noticed.

he gave your perky tits a firm squeeze, you mewl into his mouth as he gently pinches your hardened nipples. his cold fingers adding an extra chill.

rintarou’s hips press gently into yours. you could feel his erection through his pants. you grip his hair tighter at the feeling of his clothed member rubbing against your clothed clit.

you unlatch a hand from his hair and bring it straight to his hardness. he hisses as you rub him through the pants. he could feel a small wet patch forming in his boxers.

“shit, take these off” he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of your sleep shorts, you lift you hips for him to shimmy them down your legs, you didn’t even notice where he put them. you didn’t really care.

you were left in your little lace panties. he gave a lopsided smile at how prepared you were. it was like you knew he was gonna fuck you tonight. or maybe you wore these all the time around him, just waiting.

“this wet already?” he sucks in a breath, running a finger over the growing wet patch on your panties. you just nod and focus your gaze on his long fingers. you wanted them so bad.

“rin, please” you grab at his hand that was teasingly brushing over your clothed clit.

“stop teasing” you pout at him. he looks up at you and gives you another kiss.

“you’re too cute not to tease.” he pulls away and pulls your underwear to the side, spreading your legs more. he curses at the sight of your glistening pussy, knowing it was all for him.

he runs a long finger down your folds, causing your grip on his wrist to tighten.

“so worked up, aren’t you? no one ever touch you like this before?” he asks, continuing his motions up and down.

“n-no rin, just you.” you breathily admit, a bit emberassed. it was the truth though, he was the only one you really wanted over the years.

he lets out another curse at the thought of being the first guy to touch you in this way. he was straining against his boxers, his loose sweatpants suddenly feeling so tight on his hips.

“tell me if it hurts and i’ll stop, okay?” he looks you in the eye, serious. you just nod.

“wanna hear you say it, baby” he pulls his hand away from your cunt.

“yes rin, i swear” you assure, shimmying to the edge of the counter to be closer to him.

he smiles, giving you a peck on the forehead before prodding his middle finger into your tight hole, spreading your wetness to make sure you were ready.

he slowly enters you and you grip onto his shoulders for dear life. he gives a few slow experimental pumps of his finger before you were asking for more.

“this ok?” he whispers in you ear, kissing your neck.

“god yes. more please” you plead in a quiet tone, trying your best to keep silent.

he chuckles and adds his ring finger. just two was enough to stretch you out. it was a delicious pain of his large digits splitting you open. you couldn’t even imagine how good his cock would feel.

you bite your knuckles to muffle the sounds of pleasure you were making. but nothing could cover the wet noises coming from him finger fucking your pussy.

his wrist started to ache, but it was worth it to see the way you were taking it so well. he curled his fingers, doing a ‘come here’ motion inside of you. you let out a muffled curse as your legs started to shake.

he kept pumping and curling his fingers over and over. his long thick fingers reached places your little hands just couldn’t.

“i think i’m-“ you cut yourself off with a soft moan, still trying to be quiet.

he just kisses you through your orgasm, groaning into your own mouth. your pussy squeezes around his fingers and he swallows up all your noises. he imagines how you’d feel squeezing his cock like this, while his other hand groping your tit, pinching your nipple. you arch into him and pull away from his lips to breathe.

you pant and look at him, face completley flushed, he slowly removes his fingers. his hand was coated in your cum. he gives your chest a few small kisses, accidentally leaving faint marks on the skin. not an accident at all.

he was panting too. you looked at him, curiously. your eyes go down to his pants. there was an obvious wet stain in the front.

“did you….” your eyes go wide as he flushes with emberassment.

“m’sorry you were just so fucking hot i couldn’t-“ he starts, but you cut him off with your lips. you were immediately aroused again, but this time the only thing that could satisfy you was his cock.

you paw at his sweats, shaky fingers clumsily trying to untie the drawstring. he grips the back of your neck with one hand while the other helps take off his pants. he starts to stroke himself until he’s hard again, still recovering from blowing his load in his pants.

you swat his hand and give his cock long strokes. you finally get a good view of it. he wasn’t small by any means, but not obnoxiously large. it was a delicious size that made your mouth go dry. there was a certain blue vein that ran down from his tip, your finger running over it, making him hiss.

he noticed you staring and encourages you to continue, his thumbs rubbing your thighs in comfort.

you swipe your thumb over his slit making him shiver like a small dog. his tip was so sensitive. you move to try and hop off the counter to get on your knees, but he stopped you, gripping your hips.

“if you do that i won’t be able to last.” he pets your hip sensually. you pout.

“don’t give me that look. next time, i promise” he pecks your lips and your heart flutters. so there will be a next time.

his head rests on your shoulder as you continue to stroke up, switching from pumping it to teasing his tip. he stopped you once his hips started to sputter. he was like putty in your hands at this point.

“p-please” he says your name, panting.

“i need to be inside you. i need to feel you so bad, baby please” he begs, kissing your neck, leaving darker marks in his wake.

you whine at his words, using your legs to wrap around his hips, his cock sitting right above your needy cunt.

“fuck me already, rin” you give his cock a few more pumps before lining him up with your wanting hole.

he does as yous say, slowly pushing in, his mouth gaping wide and his head falls back once he’s fully inside of you.

now your head rests on his chest as you encourage him to move. he slowly pulls out then back in with a powerful thrust. you bite his shoulder to keep from screaming out. surley leaving a mark.

“ohmygod rin” you can’t help but chant out his name as his thrusts quicken. you were praying ami was still asleep or she would totally hear the sounds of his hips slapping into yours.

“shh. gotta be quiet, kay? don’t want your friend to hear you getting fucked by her big brother do you?” he clasped a hand over your mouth, you unconsciously squeezed him tighter. your eyes screwed shut tight.

“fuck. you’d probably like that wouldn’t you? want everyone to see how badly you want my dick?” he groans in a hushed tone, his thrusts getting deeper and deeper. he was loosing control.

he gripped onto your hips to stabilize his pace. you guys never broke eye contact as your mouth hung open silently, trying so hard to keep quiet. he smiles at how fucked out you already looked.

“rinnn” you whine.

“m’right here, pretty” he kisses you once again. one of your hands takes purchase in his (now) messy hair, the other one gripping onto his strong arm. you were sure you were clawing into him with your nails, but he didn’t seem to mind.

you were getting close already. he moaned into your mouth as you tightened around his cock. he fed you simple praises from his pretty mouth, encouraging you to cum.

your thighs tightened around his hips, wanting him to be even closer, if that was even possible.

“i got you, baby. let go” he whispers inbetween kisses.

he bites your lip as you cum on his cock, squeezing him in every possible way. you whine into his mouth, the kiss now turned so messy a bit of drool fell from your mouth.

he fucked you through your orgasm as you shake in his hold, he was holding back his own until you were satisfied. you started to mewl from the overstimulation of his veiny cock pounding into you.

he pulls out, pumping himself until he finishes on your thigh, letting out a hushed moan of your name from his lips, making you squeeze around nothing. both of you breathing heavily.

after you both cool down from your highs, he looks at you, full of admiration.

“you did amazing” he kisses your cheek.

once your mind fog clears, the realization hits you. you just fucked your childhood crush, your bestfriends brother. a part of you feels a little guilty, but the other part of you wants nothing more than to do it again.

he notices your hesitation, placing a gentle hand on your hair so soothe it down.

“hey, you okay?” he asks. you didn’t even notice when he had pulled his pants back up, or when he put your top back in place over your tits.

you give him a soft smile.

“i’m okay” you assure him.

“good” he smiles back, he grabs a nearby kitchen cloth and wipes off his spend from your thigh.

“gross, rin. people use that towel” you scold.

he just shrugs “i’ll throw it in the wash”

you both knew in your heads you couldn’t tell anyone about this.

it was your little secret.

suddenly, rintarou’s phone lights up from across the counter. he puts your panties back in place, grabbing your sleep shorts and putting your legs through them so you could put them back on. he snatches his phone for you both to see.

‘WEATHER WARNING: all schools in the area shut down for another two weeks’ the notification read.

your eyes widen. looks like you’d be staying at the suna’s house for a lot longer than you thought.

the next morning

“ouch, looks like your girl maimed you” ami laughs over her waffles. you sit next to her, pouring the syrup over your own. rin almost chokes on his food and your head snaps up.

“what?” he says with a mouthful of bacon. ami points to the scratches on his arm and the literal bite mark on his shoulder. your eyes go wide. you made sure to wear a hoodie to cover your own marks.

“aww rin hooked up with a wolf!” you add, trying not to raise suspicion. he squints his eyes at you, swallowing his food.

at least he had the decency to wipe down the counter before we ate.

“something like that” you eye eachother before turning back to your breakfast.

this was gonna be a long stay.

masterlist

a/n: i kinda wanna make this a mini series lollll lmk of you’d like a pt.2 (this is highkey ooc but idc!!! its fanfiction!!!! i love my fake man fr)

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localkiss · 2 months

Text

Heavenly sin

virgin pastor's son!leon kennedy x virgin fem!reader

cw: guilt!! p in v, porn watching (has some "intense" sex ig??), needy sex, virginity loss, creampies, thinking about god during sex, humping (dry at one point), oral (f receiving), awkwardness, CHECK-INS!!!, dirty talk, begging, soft ish dom!leon, pet names, mentions of daddy kink but only once, pregnancy mentioned a couple times, Leon's a sweetheart, goofy ending, rough ish treatment only once, confessions!!

wc: 6k...🧍🏻‍♀️

note: barely proof read and I don't know shit about church or anything like that... Lmk if I missed any tags! Also inspired by @moolvn's bot!

@valkyrurr @rigorwhoring @marymustdie @tatumrileyslover @frostywintersnow @queenofstresss haii yall ! :3

It's around 10 in the morning, and you're dressed in a flowy black dress with flower patterns on it. Perfect for church and for this wonderful spring weather. Pulling your hair back into a low ponytail, you get out of your parents car. They have already gone inside the church.

Walking briskly to the entrance, you take note of the flowers that are planted on each side that're beginning to bloom in the glowy sunlight. You make it in time to sit next to your parents before the prayer begins.

You bow your head and begin to listen to it. Soft shuffling is heard, and then there's a warmth on your right side, as if a heater were turned on.

Peaking out of your right eye, you see the pastor's son, Leon. Dressed in dark wash jeans and a white button up. He tilts his head towards you and smiles, mouthing, "Hello."

You smile and shake your head, closing your eyes to listen in on his father recite a prayer, so that the Holy Spirit will help us all understand God's words.

Despite trying to listen to him preach, your mind wanders off to the boy next to you. How his muscles ripple underneath his shirts. (which are always fitting for him. Like how?) And the way his beautiful oceanic eyes shine with purity. Especially when he's preaching about how God is constantly saving and bettering him and how important he truly is in his life. The way his brown hair flows in the wind and how it falls into his eye whenever he looks down.

It's all beautiful to you. You'd rather worship Leon than God. Would it be a sin to worship man instead of the Lord? Probably.

Every time you spoke with Leon, you felt dirty. You were filled with these disgusting, sinful feelings. You were afraid of it rubbing off on him and getting into trouble. Getting called the devil. Shunned and kicked out of the house for having feelings you didn't know how to fucking handle.

After all, you were only human. One with needs, thoughts, feelings, and insatiable cravings for a certain man beside you.

Once the pastor stops the prayer, everything else goes by quickly. You try not to stare at Leon while his father is reading aloud hymns. But it's impossible.

He catches your eye and flashes you a boyish smile. You look away. It's quite embarrassing to have been caught staring at him. You couldn't help it.

A couple hours later, the service ends. You get up and stretch your limbs, ready to leave.

A large hand grabs onto your forearm. Warmth surges through your veins, all the way up to your midsection.

Turning your head, you see that it's Leon.

He lets go of you with a smile. "Are you busy today? I was wondering if you'd like to come over."

Biting your lip, you think for a moment. Looking over at your parents, they give you a nod of approval.

"I'm free. I can come over today."

Both of you walk towards the exit, and he opens the door like a gentleman. You mutter a small "thank you" and step outside.

The cool, light breeze washes over your body like a cold shower. It feels refreshing after being in a stuffy room for more than an hour. Breathing it in and letting it out, you turn towards Leon.

He squints at you with a small smile, motioning to follow him. You oblige, putting your hands on the bottom of your dress and bunching up the fabric so that it doesn't fly up.

By the time you guys make it to his house, your feet are dying in the black flats you're wearing. Rubbed raw on your heels by your pinky and big toes.

You sigh in relief as you enter his house, slipping your shoes off by the door.

The both of you walk into the kitchen and grab a cup of water. Heading upstairs to his room. You try to push down the nerves and excitement bubbling in your guts, but it's so hard.

All you guys ever do is read, listen to the radio, and talk about your guys's jobs. Not all exciting, but laying in his bed and being so close to him is what gets your panties soaked. Maybe you are the devil's spawn. Getting aroused by just being in Leon's vicinity. It's bad. Real bad.

He opens his door and walks in, laying down on his plush queen-sized bed. His hair falls to the sides of his face as he closes his eyes. Breathing in deeply and then exhaling slowly.

You sit on the bed, eyeing him up while his eyes are closed. Noticing the way his veins on his hands are popping out, the small little freckles that paint his face and neck, and the way his lips look so velvety.

Wondering what it would feel like between your legs, your calves, and your neck. You shouldn't be thinking about him like this. It's wrong. But it feels so right.

"So, uh, what are we going to do?" You mutter quietly, tearing your gaze away from the white man beside you.

"I thought that we could just hang out."

"Okay." You scratch your head for a moment, looking at one of the posters on his wall. It's a poster for The Legend of Zelda, Ocarina of Time. It's probably one of the only games his parents approve of.

"Actually, hold on." He sits up slowly and begins to walk towards his desk, fishing something out. He holds up a CD with a grin. "I found this lying around on the bookstore floor. I thought that we could check it out."

Motioning with a nod of his head towards his computer. The thick monitor has the circular silver Dell logo on it at the bottom. Paired with his grey and black mouse.

Popping it into his PC as it whirrs on, you snatch his swiveling chair, making him sit on the uncomfortable wooden chair next to it. Maybe you should get a new best friend, thinking about how you come over so much that he has gotten another chair just in case you guys get on his computer.

You take over and open the Windows Media Player, then double-click on the CD's name. Spice it up in the bedroom! What an odd name.

Turning up the volume on his mini speakers that're alongside his monitor as you wait for the media to load.

A woman and a man appear in the frame, with a messy bed behind them. She's hardly wearing any clothing, only her undergarments and stockings are on her figure. Meanwhile, the man is only dressed in his briefs.

You feel your cheeks burn red hot, swallowing thickly at the video. Afraid of what's going to happen next and afraid of looking at Leon after this surprise of a CD, you continue to look straight ahead.

They don't even introduce themselves, but they say one thing: "Here's how to spice things up in the bedroom. Watch and learn."

Shifting in the cushiony chair, you unconsciously grab onto the armrests.

The next part shows the woman lying down with her legs spread open. The man walks into the frame and sits on the floor next to the end of the bed. Putting his face in between her legs, he kisses her thighs. Trailing up to the bend of her knees and then to her ankles. Repeating the same for her other leg.

Then he begins to leave small bite marks and bruises on her inner thighs. With each of them, her hips jump, and small moans leave her lips.

You squeeze your thighs together, feeling your most sacred parts ache with need. Hoping Leon doesn't notice it.

But he did, just didn't want to point it out and embarrass the both of you even more than you guys already are. He's always staring at you subtly. He's not doing any better on his end, cock filling out in his jeans, begging to be freed from its confinement.

He's just thinking about the kind of noises you'd make if he kissed you there. But he shouldn't think about that. His heart sinks into his stomach, feeling guilty for even having those sorts of thoughts about you from time to time. He wanted to baptize himself again and again until those thoughts clouded him no more.

Leon always had to shower in cold water to make all of the pent-up need go away from his dick. He was afraid to touch himself. Especially to the thought of you. He thought you didn't deserve to be sexualized. How wrong it is to even imagine your lips on his! How soft and plush you'd be against his body.

Feeling like the devil has made its way into both of your bodies. Lust coats both of your frontal lobes, coaxing you into continuing to watch this sinful CD.

The man begins to lick and kiss her panties which makes her noises grow louder and breathier. You hope to God that his parents don't come home anytime soon.

He slips her panties off, and her precious parts are exposed to the camera. Leon makes a small gasping sound, and you snap your head towards him.

"Leon, I.. I don't know if we should watch this. This is... wrong. I feel dirty, Leon." You search his eyes, hoping he'll agree, but he just blinks slowly at you.

"I-I think we should continue. Don't act like this doesn't pique your interest," he mutters back. His eyes are slowly beginning to darken.

Turning your focus on the screen, you hear him noisily slurping away between her thighs. The woman begins to get louder, and her fingers slot through his hair and pull him closer.

She yells out, "I'm cumming!" And soon her legs squeezed shut on his head, her body convulsing and lunging forward to curl in on itself.

"Fuck baby, that was so hot," He comes up and kisses her, grabbing a fistful of her hair and flipping her over onto her stomach. Fumbling with his black briefs, tugging them down and stepping out of them.

You squirm uncomfortably, not sure if you can handle seeing a random man naked. But you gulp down the bile crawling up your throat, mixed in with sickening guilt.

His cock stands up to attention, the tip as red as a tomato. A patch of hair surrounds it, leading down between his legs. He strokes it a couple of times, lolling his head back with a loud groan.

"You ready, slut?" Tapping himself against her folds.

"Y-Yes sir, I'm ready." The woman frantically nods and pushes up on her elbows, watching him sink into her hole.

He grips her hair as soon as he's fully sheathed inside, pulling her towards him. Making her see how they're connected. You bite your lip as you watch this couple go at it for about five minutes. Watching them change positions and get louder and louder with each minute that passes by.

He puts his hand on her throat and slaps her face, breasts, ass, and privates. It all makes you feel fuzzy inside, like you drank too much alcohol. The world is slowly starting to spin, with all thoughts going straight down between your thighs.

But the way he talks to her is what really gets you.

"You like that slut? Fuckin' taking daddy's cock so well, fuck."

"Good girl. I know you can take it."

"Yeah, cum on me, baby, squeeze this fat dick."

"Stupid fucking whore, practically crying for me to creampie this tight little pussy. Isn't that right, baby? God, you know you want my cum stuffed in you."

Her punched-out moans—the way she's clawing at the bed and sometimes at him—is what gets Leon excited. The way she can't even say anything remotely coherent to the man gets him so hard, it fucking hurts. Leon's boxers are practically stuck to his cock.

Leon's hand drifts towards his groin, shifting it so it doesn't press against the zipper of his jeans. He lets out a soft hiss, putting a hand to his mouth as he slumps back against the wooden chair. Leaning onto the left armrest.

Your ears pick up on Leon's strained noise, and you pull your knees up to your chest, breathing heavily between them. It's almost over, you think to yourself. Just a couple more minutes, and we can do something else. Forget about this, and maybe read the Bible to cleanse our minds.

The guy on the screen pulls her up so her back is flushed against his chest, his arm wrapped around her throat to keep her there. Her body is shaking uncontrollably, and he groans deeply, thrusting a couple more times before he comes to a halt.

"Fuck, baby girl, fuck. Take it. Mmhh, I want to get you pregnant so bad. Gonna suck on those fat tits until they're squirting milk into my mouth. I'm gonna love seeing you so swollen and full of my seed. God damn."

That's it. He pulls out of her, and you can vaguely see a white liquid pooling out of her and onto the bed. Her body is so red and bruised. It makes you take a deep breath.

By clicking out of it, you eject the disk and put it on the desk. Quickly shutting down his PC.

Both of you sit there in silence for a little while. Afraid to look at one another.

The air is so thick and hot, as if someone turned a heater on. It would make sense, as both of you have red faces and sweaty palms.

Leon's the first one to clear his throat and shift in his seat. "So, um. What did we watch?"

"For heavens sake, we just watched two people make love, Leon!" You whisper-yell at him, looking directly into his eyes.

He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and looks to the side, clearly embarrassed. "Right."

You get up and flop onto his bed, face first. The coolness of his sheets is washing over you like an ice pack.

Leon sits next to you, practically burning his gaze on your thighs. Lost in thought of the possibility of doing something like what you both saw just mere moments ago. His hips are bucking upwards, seeking relief. Looking like a damn fool for humping the air.

"Do you think that felt good? Would God like...allow them to seek pleasure like that?" You mumble into the bed.

"I think so, but I don't know if God would be happy if they were to continue..without repenting for their sins and asking for forgiveness."

Yeah, you figured he would respond like that.

"I feel gross, Leon."

"Me too."

You turn on your side and look him up and down slowly. "Are you... aroused?"

Leon gulps and tilts down to meet your gaze with a small nod.

"Me too." Your voice is soft and hushed. Rubbing your thighs together for some relief.

At this point, you don't even care. God this. God that. Those women at the church don't seem to care when they get pregnant. They just pray and repent for their sins and move on with their day like nothing happened. So, God doesn't fucking care if you have intercourse or not. So long as you ask for forgiveness.

His baby blues drop to your lips and back up, licking his own lips. Then, he leans down and boxes you between his firm body and the plush bed.

Your breath catches in your throat as you feel him tremble above you. Heart thumping wildly in your ears, wondering if he can hear it too.

Unconsciously, your legs spread open to accommodate his hips. He shifts his weight nervously, his groin settling on top of yours.

Both of you moan and buck your hips towards one another, wanting more. Becoming insatiable beasts filled only with lust and need. Logic? God? Who needs that when you have horniness on the brain?

Leon groans and buries his face in your neck, panting hotly against your skin as he begins to dry hump you. "Please... It-It hurts. I'm sorry." He stops himself from rambling on, nosing up to your earlobe.

"Leon, it feels really good. Don't—don't stop, please."

His hips stutter, and he lets out a soft whimper, touching his forehead to yours. "May I... may I do what the video showed, to you?"

"Yes," you say as you connect your lips to his, tangling your hands into his thick locks of brown hair. Lightly pulling on it, earning you a groan into your mouth and a thrust against your clothed mound.

Tongues uniting sloppily, moans spewing out, and desire floating in the air. A perfect recipe for disaster.

He sits up on his knees, his eyes blown out, his lips red and glossy with spit. How can he get even prettier? It's not fair. It really isn't. God really gave him the best of the best, honestly.

Leon quickly made work of his button-up, throwing it across the room. His wife beater is the only article of clothing shielding you from seeing his chest and abdomen. What a shame. Though you do see a small silver chain, most likely it is his cross that he always wears, no matter what.

Breathing out of his mouth like his nose is fucking clogged, he hesitantly reaches up to the hem of your dress. "May I?" He whispers, pushing it up to where your shorts stop at your waist.

You nod, your hips lifting up to help him get rid of your dress. It soon hits the floor next to his shirt. Immediately feeling embarrassed, you cover your black bra with your hands.

Leon just stares in awe, his hands slowly trailing up your sides and tracing every contour and bend in your body.

"So beautiful," he mumbles. His thumb feels nice and is also ticklish where the sun doesn't see your body. He carefully removes your arms away from your bosom, kissing the inner parts of your wrists and making eye contact with you for the entirety of this undressing.

You gasp as he kisses down to your clavicles, making sure to take his time mapping out your figure with his lips now. Dipping down to your cleavage, his hands grab ahold of your waist, thumbs rubbing against the wire of your bra.

Leon presses his lips across your entire chest, making your skin buzz and your soul leave your body.

Never in your life would you have imagined Leon doing this to you in his own bed.

He fumbles with pulling your cups down, trying to get rid of the bra. "Can you, um.. take this off?"

You lean forward and unclip it, letting it fall forward into your lap. Getting your arms out of the straps, you are now topless in front of him. Topless in front of someone for the first time ever.

God is getting ready to punish the both of you for sinning, and you know it. Closing your eyes tightly for a few moments as you try to battle with continuing or just leaving Leon to deal with his own battle. That would be just mean. And if you were going to sin, why not together?

Gulping down the acid that clawed its way up your pipes once more, you shake off the guilt as much as you can. Opening your eyes, you see Leon getting closer to your chest. Ready to plant his love on them.

He slowly kisses around your areolas, nosing his way from breast to breast. You let out a nervous giggle as he makes eye contact with you as best he can.

Finally making contact with your nipples, he dips his tongue out and swirls around it. Pulling away with a soft 'pop', you card your fingers through his hair.

"Did that feel good?"

"Yeah, it felt really nice." You give him a shy smile, and he returns it.

Leon does the same to the other one before leaning back and admiring you once more. "You are honestly beautiful."

Covering your face with your arms, you push him with your knee, mumbling an embarrassed "thank you." You still have your manners, even for being the devil's best friend.

Some shuffling, and you peek through your arms and see he's taking off his white wife beater. You bite your lip and shift to your haunches, running your hands up his abdomen. Mesmerized by the way his muscles tense under your fingertips, dipping down to a small patch of hair trailing down beneath his jeans.

Smiling up at him, you wish to return the favor. Putting your lips near the belt of his pants, kissing each of his hip bones softly. His body twitches towards you, and he lets out a broken moan, putting his hands on your shoulders. You decide to be experimental and graze your teeth all the way up his stomach, stopping at his chest. Leon's sounds are going straight down south; you'll be surprised if your shorts aren't completely wet by now too.

"Can I?" You grab ahold of the button on his jeans, toying with it. Asking him for permission to undress him as well. He shakes his head, yes, and you immediately start undoing his fly. With a soft gasp, you see his bulge with a wet spot near the tip, staining his dark blue boxers. You continue to tug his pants down to his thighs so he can do the rest himself.

Leon's pants join the rest of your clothes on the floor. You shimmy your shorts and tights off. Both of you dressed in your undergarments.

You lay back, eyes on his cross necklace, hoping that God will accept you both as you are after this experience. Making love before marriage isn't acceptable, and you've been told your bodies are sacred temples and to not let anyone in or touch you inappropriately. Both of you would be shunned, and God knows what else would happen.

Leon begins to kiss his way down to your ankles and back up between your thighs. Slowly breathing in the scent of you. Pressing a few on your clothed mound, making you squirm, your thighs daring to close on his head. He gently pushes them away and up as he leaves little love bites where your legs connect to your most sacred spot.

Moaning softly, you cover your mouth. Your eyes dare to roll back into your head as you try and watch Leon explore your features before he removes the last article of clothing, keeping him away from seeing you completely bare. He moans into your panties, kitten-licking to taste your arousal. He is doing his best to try and copy the video from earlier.

"Please, Leon.." you whine, your hips pushing against his face, aching for more.

Leon nods his head and nuzzles against you, his nose stimulating you even further. He pulls away to remove your panties to dive back in.

Getting messy with it, he drools onto your folds, pressing open-mouth kisses all over. Paying attention to where you moan and squirm the most.

He dips his tongue down into your pulsating hole and groans, his eyes rolling back at the taste of you. "Tastes s'good, baby," he continues to ravage your poor, sensitive pussy, iron grip, keeping your thighs open.

You squeak and grab ahold of his hair, trying to push him away as you feel an unfamiliar warmth spread throughout your body. "Leon! Wait, wait, I-I—"

Leon moves his mouth up to your little pearl and begins to suck and nibble on it. That's what truly sends you over the edge.

Back bowing, legs shaking, head thrown back with your mouth open in a silent scream. You can't even feel your lower half; pins and needles are crawling down your legs and into your feet. You're sure your legs snapped shut on his head, as you feel him so much more now.

Soon you come back into reality with Leon hovering over you, his dick freed from its prison, poking your thigh. "You okay? Did that feel good, my love?" It's so sweet how he's checking in with you after giving you the best time of your life!

"Y-Yeah," you breathe out heavily, pulling him closer by his silver cross. Toying with it between your fingertips. "That felt amazing. Thank you."

Giving him a soft, sensual kiss. Tasting a bitter liquid on his lips. He chases you as soon as you part, dipping his tongue between your lips and asking for more. You oblige, and his thick muscle is invading your cavern, touching each tooth and swirling around your own tongue. It's turning hot and heavy as he presses his hips into yours, putting weight on you.

He starts humping your leg, his cock pulsating and leaking transparent sticky fluids on your skin. He is moaning and panting into your mouth as he cups your breasts. Slowly pulling away as he takes you in once more, completely infatuated with you, it seems. And it also seems the feeling is reciprocated by yours truly.

"Can I put it in, please?" Leon grabs ahold of his dick and clumsily strokes it over your cunt. His body is stuttering forward, and his grip on your breast is tightening just slightly.

Biting your swollen bottom lip, you nod slowly. Bracing yourself for the intrusion down there. It doesn't even look like he'll fit inside of you; you're afraid he's going to somehow rip you apart down there. But you push down the fear with a shaky sigh.

"Just, um.. let me know if it hurts," he swipes through your folds a few times before sinking into you gradually.

Your body tenses up, and you grab hold of his hand, squeezing it as you let out high pitched breathy whimpers. Squeezing your eyes shut as you try to get used to his size. You can't believe he's taking your virginity.

"W-wait, stop, stop, please... It hurts." You feel tears forming in your eyes, and Leon immediately halts.

Pressing chaste kisses to your eyes and one on your lips, his body bucks forward. With a groan, he murmurs, "God damn. I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, baby."

Your pussy flutters around his length, and you breathe in and out, getting used to him. Canting your hips up to get more of him on your terms, you roll your hips with a gasp and say, "Leon."

He takes that as a sign to push more of himself into you, filling you to the brim. Shifting to lay down on his forearms, next to your head, you wrap your legs around his waist. Your nails dig lightly into his back, eliciting a low growl from him as he tries to calm himself down. Too aroused with the feeling of you wrapped around his shaft so tightly that he can't even begin to think properly.

Taking a quick breather so that he doesn't accidentally fall on top of you. Lazily humping against you, stimulating your clitoral area while being so goddamn full of him.

"Baby, god," Leon starts to clumsily push in and out of your sopping heat. Barely even disconnecting himself from you. If anything, he doesn't ever want to pull out of you. You feel too good; it would greatly upset him to stop now.

It feels so intimate as he continues to hold your hand, sloppily kissing you as his dick slowly penetrates you deeper and deeper. Swallowing each other's noises, afraid of getting caught by his parents, is always lingering in the back of your mind.

"Mmnn, you're so tight, it's hard to move." Leon drops his forehead onto yours, staring at you intensely. His eyes are soft yet lustful, carrying love in them, you see.

Maybe you just hope that he loves you because you've loved him all your life. Having known him since you were 4 and he was 6, you couldn't have asked for anyone else to take your virginity but him. Even though he's the pastor's son.

"I love you," you can't help but blurt out. Biting your lip as he speeds up his movements for a few thrusts before going back to his lazy ones.

"You mean it?" He pants heavily into your mouth, feeling you nod your head against his. "I love you too. God, I really, really do. I promise, baby."

With those heartfelt (sort of) confessions, he begins to pick up his pace.

Growling softly when you clench around him or make squeaky noises that can't be discerned by a whimper or a moan. He loves you and all your little noises. The freckles that paint your body. The way your body curves and your stretch marks—everything about you is so gorgeous to him. He wouldn't want to do this with anyone else. He's tried giving you signs and hints that he wants to be your boyfriend, but he is always too scared to say it outright. But now he's glad about how things turned out. Including giving you his virginity.

You claw at his chest, grabbing ahold of his necklace as he fucks you harder. Looking down at his member, you see a white ring around his base. Throwing your head back into his pillows, you feel another orgasm creeping up your body.

"I'm gonna—it's gonna happen again, Leon, mmphh," you whine out as your legs try to close up, only to be blocked by his body.

Leon lets out a pained whimper, and then all of a sudden he grips onto your hair and starts to gently bite under your jawline next to your earlobe. It's syrupy and slow this time; your mind goes fuzzy and blank. No thoughts, just Leon. And his manhood bumps into your cervix.

"Please, let me... inside—can I?" His words are all jumbled up, and you can't help but say yes.

He speeds up even more, which seems impossible, but it really isn't. It has your chest bouncing with each thrust, and soft cries are leaving your lips. He keeps on holding onto your hair and hand, bringing your face up to meet him halfway to make out with you. Drooling into your mouth and his eyes rolling into the back of his head. With each thrust, his necklace bumps into your neck.

Hips stuttering into yours, he almost collapses onto your figure. Threatening to bury you into his mattress as he lazily thrusts a couple more times.

A hot liquid squirts into your womb, and Leon lets out a strained moan, dropping his head into your neck. Slowly letting go of your hair and letting your scalp relax after such harsh treatment. Your cunt clenches around him tightly.

His hips continue to jerk into yours, almost making sure his cum stays inside of you. It's like his body already knows what to do after watching one video of people making love.

Leon presses soft kisses up to your temple before getting off of you. Shifting back to his haunches, he hesitantly pulls out of your hole. Watching your cunt flutter around nothing, his seed slowly drips out of your hole. His dick jumps, hitting his toned stomach, almost ready to jump back into action for round two.

"Baby, just so beautiful. I love you."

You can't help but giggle at that, making more of the sticky white liquid squirt out of your hole and onto his sheets. He quickly notices that and grabs a few tissues to wipe it off, leaving you and himself clean.

"I love you too, pretty boy," you sigh deeply, truly enamored with the way Leon just is. He's so sweet without even trying.

You go to sit up and grab your undergarments, but your legs are too shaky to even stand up, and you almost fall over. Leon maneuvers you back onto his bed and fetches it all for you. Getting himself dressed as well.

Hell, maybe it wasn't so bad to become a sinner. It was definitely a heavenly sin, that's for sure.

You two stare at each other, lips swollen red, eyes swallowed by the black and flushed pink faces. Your hands interlocked as you slowly began to kiss. But this time, it's much sweeter and softer. No rush to feel skin on skin; just relaxing in the now.

"What're we going to do?" Mumbling into the kiss, you pull away.

"What do you mean?"

"You.. you did it inside of me. What if I get pregnant? I can't be a mother right now, Leon," you frown, looking down at your stomach.

"I'll figure it out, okay? And—And if you do end up carrying my child, I'll be there. I'm not just going to leave you."

And with that, your worries washed away, nodding alongside his words as if they were God's words. In a way, he is God to you. Constantly saving you, bettering you, loving you unconditionally, and listening to you. You'd get on your knees any day for Leon. He'd just have to say the word, and you'd do it.

"Was I too rough? Are you hurt anywhere?" He presses a few chaste kisses on your forehead and temple.

"No, but I am hurting... down there. It feels a little sore. But everything else is fine." You give him a thumbs-up with a goofy grin. He returns the silly smile, nuzzling your jawline.

"I can see if there's any ibuprofen; I'll be right back, okay?"

Shortly, he returns with two pills and sets them in your palm, bringing your water over to you. You take them with a gulp of water.

"I think I've got to use the restroom as well. I'll be back." You let out a breath and walked into the bathroom across the hall. Doing your business, flushing, and then washing your hands before returning back to him.

Joining him on his bed, under the covers, to snuggle up close to him.

"You're so warm. I love it."

"I'm glad you do, sweetheart."

You both end up talking for a few more hours about work, your friends, hobbies, and, lastly, how long you've liked one another.

"Wait, wait, wait," you giggle and lay on your elbows, resting your head in your palm. "You've liked me ever since elementary school? Why haven't you told me?"

"I tried. I tried giving you hints; I even brought you a flower that one time, remember? And, like, I always let you borrow my shirts and sweaters. I thought that was enough, and you saw that, and, uh, just didn't like me back." Leon rolls his eyes and pulls you into his arms. Attacking you with kisses on your ear and behind it.

You squeal and squirm in his grasp, letting out a breathy, "Okay, okay! I see it now!"

"What about you?"

"Since middle school. Remember the time on Valentine's Day when I gave you like all my candies? And then, when we did bingo at church, I gave you my prize and said I didn't want it. Yeah, well... I wanted it, but I gave it to you instead."

"So cute. I love you, baby bug," he mumbles into your neck.

"I love you too, handsome," you answer into his shoulder.

It is safe to say that you both fell asleep holding onto each other. With smiles on your faces. You both are dreaming of the day that you both get married and have the whole white picket fence, dog, children, and everything in between.

You'd risk your relationship with God again if it meant that you'd be with Leon forever.

He would absolutely risk being called a devil's spawn if it meant that he'd get to be your lover forever.

Maybe God would forgive you if you decided to sin again and again. As long as you are happy, it doesn't matter what happens. If and only if, you have Leon, the pastor's son, in your arms, everything will be alright.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #pastors son!leon #leon smut #leon kennedy smut #re2 leon #localkiss

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cy-cyborg · 8 months

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Tips for writing and drawing Wheelchair using characters: Your character's wheelchair can tell us a lot about them

When you first start learning character design, you'll often be told something to the effect of "use your character's outfit to tell us more about them" - and this same principles can be applied to a disabled character's mobility aids.

Mobility aids like wheelchairs, to many disabled people, are a part of us. They can be an extension to a person's body and chances are, if you're going to be using this piece of equipment every day for the foreseeable future (or at least for a good amount of time for the foreseeable future), it's going to start reflecting some aspects of your personality, your interests, your passions, especially when you remember, a lot of people get their wheelchairs custom built for them.

You can use your character's wheelchair to tell us a lot about them without ever needing to show/describe them directly.

Let me show you two examples:

Take a look at these two wheelchairs. they're similar in shape and build, but still pretty different to each other. Can you make some guesses about their users based only on what's shown here?

intended answers below:

Please note, the following points are all generalisations and the real world is rarely this simple. This is to demonstrate how to use disability aids to contribute to your character's design, not how to make assumptions about real people in real life.

So here are some similarities between the chairs:

Both wheelchairs have ridged frames, this means the wheelchair can't be folded in any way. These kinds of chairs can imply a few different things depending on the person. They are typically lighter, sturdier and more durable, and indicate the person probably will be using the wheelchair for a long time and/or has the money to get something built to last (or lives in a place where cost not an issue due to universal/subsidised access to healthcare). They are also typically better to travel with when flying, as they are less likely to be broken by airport security/staff.

Both wheelchairs also lack anti-tip wheels, which are a third set of wheels that extend from the back of the chair. Them not being present could indicate the person is likely pretty confident in their ability to use the chair without worrying about tipping out. It could also indicate they are in an environment where the anti-tips could be more of a hazard than a help, such as on rough terrain.

So lets look at some specifics for the green wheelchair:

Take a look at the wheels. The front wheels are pretty small and appear to be solid, while the back wheels appear to be quite narrow (compared to the orange chair anyway). This indicates the user likely lives somewhere with decent accessibility like a (well funded) city where they are unlikely to encounter unpaved/dirt roads/grass. Small front wheels and thin back wheels are good for manoeuvrability and a smooth ride over even terrain, but they will get stuck as soon as bumps appear, so this probably isn't an issue for this person.

While its a bit hard to tell unless you have seen other similar wheelchairs, this wheelchair is very long in the front, meaning the footplate and front wheels are further away from the seat than most. There could be a few reasons for this. One either indicates the person has very long legs, or a lack of motion in their knees, making it harder to bend their legs. This is moves the chair's centre of gravity forward by a decent amount, making it harder to tip back, which could indicate the person's legs are very light. You tend to see this most often in the wheelchairs of bilateral leg amputees, who are at a greater risk of tipping backwards due to a lack of weight at the front of the chair (even if they wear their prosthetics).

The colour of the chair is bright. This could simply be the character's favourite colour, or maybe this colour has some significance to them?

There are stickers on the side of the chair relating to the Paralympics. This could indicate the person is a fan, or perhaps had some involvement in the games?

The wheelchair has handles on the back, but they are able to be folded down. This is a popular feature for people who are independent enough to go out on their own, but still want to have the option for some help. folding down the handles also deters random strangers from grabbing at you (an unfortunately common experience for wheelchair users).

There is some mild paint scratching to the front of the wheelchair, but nothing too noticable. This is typical of older chairs and people who are a little rough on their chairs. Maybe they've had a few stacks and falls throughout the years, probably going a decent speed.

Ok, now let's look at the orange chair

This wheelchair has very large, inflatable front wheels, and very thick back wheels. This will make the chair slower and less manoeuvrable on flat/even surfaces, but much, much easier to push on rough terrain. This is supported by the amount of mud on the wheelchair.

The seat on this wheelchair tilts upwards slightly. This is called a bucket (or according to an old basketball teammate of mine, a dump-truck lol). This is a feature you typically see in wheelchairs made for people with spinal injuries who are unable to move their legs and engage their lower bodies or core to help keep them stable.

The back of this chair is very low, indicating that if this wheelchair user has a spinal injury, it's probably pretty low on their spine, likely fairly close to the hips, making the person a low-level paraplegic. Higher-level paraplegics and quadriplegics usually need a higher back to help support them and keep them from flopping over, since all the muscles below their place where their spine broke either doesn't work, or is significantly weaker. Higher backs though can get in the way of pushing and reduce mobility, so people who need less support will likely opt for a lower back rest.

This wheelchair has no handles, which indicates the user is probably very independent and doesn't need a lot of help getting around.

The paint on this wheelchair is very scratched up, showing the person is very tough on their wheelchair and doesn't care to get the paint touched up.

This wheelchair has no breaks. This is very common on chairs with larger tiers as they don't tend to be as effective, but also on many outdoor wheelchairs, for two reasons. One is because they are made for rough terrain, so chances are, you aren't going to go far without a big push to get you moving. The second reason is that to get over large bumps and obsticals in a wheelchair, it can be helpful to do very large pushes using the top and front of the wheel. When pushing a normal chair, most people will only use the top section of the wheel to push since it's closest, but these big pushes that use the front of the wheel make it easier to push, since you can benefit from downwards momentum. However, this is also where the breaks are located on most wheelchairs, which can create a hazard. I've lost entire fingernails by them getting snagged on the breaks when pushing this way. So if you live somewhere where the breaks are not going to be helpful to you often, it makes sense to not get them.

And here are the characters who own these wheelchairs

The owner of the green wheelchair is an amalgamation of a few people I knew from when I played wheelchair basketball. They're a bilateral leg amputee, and judging by their outfit (The Official National Wheelchair Basketball uniform for Australia), they're an elite athlete. This wheelchair is not the one they play sport in, but it still needs to be durable enough to withstand the rough treatment of airport staff when traveling, as well as heavy day-to-day use that comes with being an active person. While it needs to be rough, the person also seemed to want to prioritise speed and manoeuvrability, and likely doesn't need to worry about rough terrain too much, so they probably live in a major city.

The owner of the orange chair was inspired by a family friend of mine. They live on a farm, and need a chair that can handle life in those conditions, rough terrain and all. This comes at the cost of speed and manoeuvrability on smoother terrain, but honestly, anyone who's lived in the country knows you won't find many of those around there anyway, so that's not too big of a sacrifice. They are paraplegic, are very confident in their ability to use their wheelchair, and probably doesn't need help too often, but still benefit from some extra stability support from the raised seat on their chair.

Conclusion

Once again, these are generalisations, and in real life there are always exceptions, but I hope this helped demonstrate what I meant when I said you can use your character's wheelchair to tell us more info about them if you're smart about it.

I originally planned to do a whole series of these, showing a wider variety of wheelchairs and the people who they belong to, but I guess I kind of forgot because they've been sitting, abandoned on my hard drive for the last 2 years 😅. If that's something you folks would be interested in seeing though, let me know, I'd happily revive the series lol.

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reiderwriter · 16 days

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I’ve watching the episode where Reid kisses the actress. Could you write a fic where the reader is in the BAU and is best friends with Reid but has a secret crush on Reid which is obvious to everyone on the team but Reid and she is so jealous of the actress and the teams teases her about it?

A/N: Hello! Thanks for the request, I hope you enjoy it~♡

Warnings: none, hints of bi-reader, but like...come on.

Masterlist

Your “too obvious, plain as day, nearly embarrassing” schoolgirl crush on Spencer Reid was taking too long to fizzle out naturally.

When you'd met the man, and your heart fluttered, you knew you'd have to go through the motions: you'd hope, grow fonder of the man, dream about him, then cringe, get ick, and ultimately you'd achieve the ultimate crush death.

You were stuck somewhere between hope and dream, still, and had taken a wrong turn somewhere leading to nearly Hozier-levels of desperate longing.

5 months assisting the BAU as a press liaison, working as JJ's assistant on more public facing cases had landed you here.

And what better case for you to spread your wings on than one in Los Angeles itself, starring the famous Lila Archer.

When Gideon and Reid had called the case in, you'd been eager not to seem too eager. You'd never been out of Quantico on a case before, usually shacking up in an office to shout down phone lines as reporters on the press room floor telling them they were scum of the earth for sensationalizing murder. JJ had obviously taught you to have a more nuanced conversation that that, but your inner thoughts were still allowed.

But LA was a different kettle of fish, and Hotch appreciated that. It didn't quite help that you visibly perked up when you heard Reid himself had a hand in calling it into the team. A high-school classmate and a jet ride later, you were excited and ready to greet Spencer Reid. And Lila Archer.

She was so pretty it was intimidating to even breathe the same air as her, a magnetism that drew everyone in the room closer to her just as Spencer drew you towards him.

You tried not to see the obvious attraction the two had to each other, but the bile rose in your throat every time you thought about the case. The sour twinge of jealousy became a constant on the case, as your efforts to save Lila from her stalker also pushed her closer and closer to Spencer.

And that wasn't even accounting for the fact that you'd suddenly become tongue-tied around them.

Spencer had asked you multiple times how you were enjoying your first time out in the field, and the most you could muster was a nod and a stammered “it's been good, I guess.”

With Lila, it was worse. You couldn't even tell her your name, and had overheard her politely asking Reid for it a few times every time you'd dropped coffee off in their vicinity.

Your school girl crush was hitting the first heartbreak road bump at full speed, and dear god, you were not ready for the car crash.

You tried to psych yourself out of it, to clear your mind and remain professional, but one tabloid cover after wrapping the case ended that for you completely.

“Whooo, Spencer, my man! I knew you were a pretty boy, I didn't know you had game like that!”

The tabloid had been dropped on his desk by Derek loudly and had quickly drawn a crowd when they'd seen the resulting red flush from the man of the hour.

He'd snatched up the gossip rag pretty quickly, but not before you'd gotten a glimpse of the cover. You recognised Lila’s pool, then Lila herself, then the man she was passionately making out with as you felt your heart crack in two.

You'd stuck like a fly on the wall and quietly joined in the teasing as you swallowed all of your ugly emotions at once.

“And in the pool, too, Spencer, that's crazy. Look at Y/N. She can't believe it herself!” You forced a small giggle past your lips and hoped the others couldn't tell how fake it was. You stuck out a few more minutes of conversation before nearly running back to JJ's, thankfully empty office.

The tears were silent.

You berated yourself for even letting them fall. An unrequited love wasn't the end of the world - especially considering you had to work with Reid, see him every day.

It took you months to get over it. Not that you ever fully managed it.

You simply told yourself that you'd never felt that way in the first place, gaslighting yourself into believing there was no feelings and thus no heartbreak.

After a month of haunting the office with your general gloom, you got into the flow of it and truly convinced yourself you were over it.

And you were until everyone started talking about it all over again.

“Spencer, I heard your lady friend is going to be in a real blockbuster soon. Congrats!” Morgan clapped the man on the shoulder as he walked past, discarding his coat at his desk as he arrived for work.

You gripped your coffee mug slightly tighter as you wished the conversation would blow over.

“Reid has a lady friend? Oh, please do not spare the details,” Emily jumped in, eager to integrate herself into the team now that she was in it.

“You know that actress, Lila Archer? We babysat her on a case a couple of months back, and she took quite the liking to our little genius-”

“Morgan, stop-” Reid groaned, flushing yet again at the mention of the whole scenario.

“Okay, I'll back off,” the older man said quickly. “If you can tell me honestly, you don't still have that tabloid cover in the second draw of your desk.”

You tried to stand and walk away from the conversation without drawing any attention to yourself, but the tension in your body left you stiff and less than graceful. You tripped on the corner of your desk on your way out but didn't pause to even listen to the others' call after you in your haste to clear the venom burning in your throat.

You were fine and happy to ignore your emotions, but you realized then that kind of tactics would only work if everybody else managed to avoid them, too.

You calmed your pace to a wall and took a series of deep breaths, trying to rationalize your departure to yourself.

“I'm busy. There's some files I need to pull anyway, so I'm just going to file storage. That's why I left my desk. That's all, I'm fine.”

Your small pep talk didn't rewrite history, though, and you still felt a cloud of envy following you around.

He kept her picture. In his drawer.

Truth be told, you weren't expecting it to hurt this bad.

You heard footsteps come up behind you, so you quickly ducked into the empty elevator, not quite ready to face anyone yet. A hand caught it just as you were about to be left alone, though, and Spencer joined you in the elevator.

You weren't exactly shocked to see him. He'd been just as uncomfortable with the topic of conversation as you had, if not more so. You just wished you hadn't been in the same place now.

“Sorry, I need some files.”

Great, you were going to the same place as well. You just nodded slightly and gave him a tight-lipped smile as you travelled down to the place you'd both chosen as an escape.

“Back there, you left…” Spencer started, fidgeting awkwardly next to you in the elevator.

“You left pretty abruptly.”

“I remembered I needed some files.’

“Right, right…”

The silence that stretched between you was thick and suffocating, and you begged the elevator to move faster.

“I don't, by the way.” He spoke up again, awkwardly clearing his throat before continuing. “I don't still have that tabloid. There is a picture in that drawer, but it's not…that one.”

“A different picture of Lila, then?’ You tried to keep your tone light, but even while trying your hardest, you couldn't keep the bitterness out of your tone.

The elevator reached its destination, but you both held back for a few seconds, and neither of you was quite sure what to say anymore.

“She kissed me, you know.” Spencer said, facing you now, pinning you in place with his attention.

“Yes, Spencer. Well aware, I saw the photo, too.”

“No.. no, I mean, she kissed me.”

“Loud…loud and clear,” you said, raking a hand through your hair as you tried to drown out all of the noise.

“Y/N, I don't think you're hearing me.”

“Oh, and I should be paying attention to you recounting the time an actress decided you were worthy of your time and tried to mount you in a swimming pool? I need to hear about how her tongue felt being pushed down your throat?”

The words jumped out of you, and you had no way to stop them once they started. Instead, you simply shoulder checked your way out of the still elevator and marched your way to the file room.

“Y/N, I'm sorry, please just hear me out,” you heard Spencer calling out to you, but you didn't stop or turn around.

“Y/N, I'm trying to explain, please just-” You heard him groan in frustration as you kept up your pace and felt slightly satisfied that he was having such a hard time. A solid hand on your wrist pulling you back wiped any smile you had on your face clean off, especially as you were pulled into a somewhat solid chest and a hand tipped your head up to meet his own.

To say you hadn't imagined the moment that Spencer Reid kissed you for the first time would be a lie. You thought it would be sweet and small, an awkward peck if nothing else that led to giggles and more innocent chaste kisses and possibly an illusive hug.

Instead, you were pushed back against the nearest wall, pinned up by your wrists, and robbed of all of your breath as Spencer kissed you until you were seconds from passing out.

Even after you both came up from air, he released your wrists so he could angle your head back up to him, allowing him to deepen the kiss the second time around.

Stunned was not the word.

And though you were completely taken unaware by the kiss, that didn't mean you weren't eagerly reciprocating.

You kept your wits about you as his tongue parted your lips, leaning into him as you savored the moment.

It didn't stop the confusion after you finally broke apart, though.

“What…the…fuck, Spencer?” You said between gasps, chest heaving. He let your wrists go awkwardly, hands trailing down to your waist as you rested yours on his shoulders.

“You weren't…listening. Needed a different strategy.”

“Well, I'm all ears now.”

He nodded and then took another moment to catch his breath before relinquishing you from his hold and putting a bit of space between you.

“I didn't kiss Lila Archer. I didn't particularly want..to?” He cleared his throat and continued.

“She kinda just grabbed me? And did it? There was a pool too, so I was trying not to choke on water and chlorine and hair everywhere. Like, she just grabbed me-”

“Like you just did?”

“Like I just… did, yeah, like that.”

You weren't sure what to do or say anymore. So you just nodded and stood there, and so did he.

“That's not to say that I didn't enjoy this kiss. It wasn't just to illustrate the point. It kind of was, in the sense that it helped you understand what happened before, and that I hope it will help you realize the point of this conversation-”

“Which is?”

“I like you.” He said, finally pausing his rambling to look you in the eyes.

“I like you, and I didn't want you to misunderstand.”

“Oh. Oh right.”

You both stood there looking at each other and looking away in a loop, neither talking or breaking the silence until you both tried to.

“What about y-”

“Kiss me again.”

Reid blinked at you a few more times, trying to work through your words.

“Kiss me again” you repeated, stepping away from the wall and closer to Reid as he still just stared at you.

“We're still working, what if someone walks past?”

“Didn't stop you the first time.”

“But-”

You cut him off quickly, grabbing his tie and pulling him down to your level, locking lips with him again.

When you again came up for breath, possibly much longer after the time a second kiss should last, both of you just laughed again.

“I was jealous.” You said, looking up at him, ready to bare yourself to him now that he'd given a confession of his own. “Of Lila. Of you for being adored like that by someone so cool. But mostly of Lila.”

“Because?”

“Because I like you, too,” you said, rolling your eyes at him.

“Nice. Cool, that's great. I like that you like me, too. I like you, hey, I like us,” you cut off his rambling quickly with another small kiss and pulled away.

“So the picture?" You asked, backing away down the hall as he stood and watched you.

"Hmm?"

"The one in your desk."

"Oh," he said, scratching the back of his neck as the tips of his ears turned bright pink.

"Penelope gave me this picture from the Christmas party. It's, uh, me and you."

You smiled brightly before turning to leave, the bile of jealousy that had been consuming you turned magically to butterflies in the space of two kisses.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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