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#so she was giving him a way to “fix things” but that wasn't on him to do so
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Metapost: "The Ascendent"
**this is a meta for my fic, Pieces Still Stuck in Your Teeth, and NOT a discussion of the BG3 game canon in any way. If you try and make this into a disk-horse, I will BITE you**
(spoilers under the cut for Chapters 1-23 of Pieces Still Stuck in Your Teeth).
So... remember in the Chapter One endnote when I said I was a Spike/Buffy fan first, and a person second? x
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In more seriousness, there was a number of fictional seasonings/ingredients that went into creating what I felt was the villain of a Gothic horror, and what I felt could turn the Ascendent into something that was both 'fixable', and something I enjoyed writing.
Those ingredients were:
Spike and the idea of 'soulless' vampires in the BtVS canon - do I like this conceit of BtVS worldbuilding and how it's used in the show? No. I think it often underlines how bad Whedon is at writing romance. BUT I do think it gives Buffy this free pass for which vampires she can/can't like or adopt, and I needed some of that for my protagonist. I need a 'I can fix him' moment - BtVS has those in fucking SPADES.
Howl's Moving Castle (this one was accidental, I'm still mad at myself but I can't deny it's there) - man conducts magic ritual for power, removing an essential part of himself in the process that needs to be returned
Picture of Dorian Gray (the idea of an exterior staying pristine while something hidden suffers and decays)
Curse of Strahd (the soulless in Barovia, which I mentioned in Chapter 23)
The idea of default moral alignments in D&D. I have a whole chapter arguing against this in my thesis (mostly bc it's often applied to entire races) but I was fascinated by creating a set of circumstances where I feel like a default moral alignment is valid, actually. 7,000 deaths seems like a good set up. I wanted to imagine a being that was trapped within a default moral alignment, and the laws of its very being prevent it from being good no matter what it tries, and it knows that (this kind of creates a feedback loop with the Spike/Buffy stuff)
The parts of the BG3 canon I took and REMADE (I'm stressing this throughout, I was making a horror story and a horror monster your honour):
Astarion conducts the Rite of Profane Ascension with scars on his back, but has to scar Cazador's back personally, suggesting that um... the Rite REALLY SHOULDN'T BE CONDUCTED BY SOMEONE WHO'S GOT THOSE SCARS. Cazador wasn't going to do it that way, is all I'm saying!!
The idea that Ascended!Ending Astarion is a concentrated version of certain traits that have persisted throughout his story - his flirtiness, his understanding of sex as a mechanism and expression of power, his use of a façade as a mask for trauma he refuses to acknowledge.
The lines alluding to dissociation in the brothel foursome, post-Ascension.
The idea that Astarion seduced Tav to survive or protect himself- in my case, because I made the Ascendent empty save for Astarion's survival instinct, the idea that he would gravitate towards Tav as one of his default modes to potentially survive made sense to me - this is why it becomes an obsession.
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For me, when writing, the Ascendent is a few things:
An intensification of vampirism in a different, fucked-up direction. Yeah, A!Astarion, you can walk in sunlight and you can eat and drink and don't need blood. But you are still a hungering maw of emptiness that feels like it will never be whole or close and connected to the living - just now in a wildly different, metaphysical/existential direction! Welcome to depression, alienation, and otherness!
A soulless being, that knows it is soulless - that initially was very happy with its life but then as the years passed, increasingly spends its every waking moment knowing there is something innately wrong with it that it can't seem to shake, no matter how much it engages with life and all the pleasures of life. (see the 'every meal without savour' speech)
A magically literal metaphor for Astarion's dissociation in moments of extreme trauma, up to and including the fight with Cazador - essentially, the moments when there is nothing but a performance or an exterior, because the self/soul are suffering and they cant' come to phone right now
Astarion's survival instinct. As I say in Chapter 23 - Mephistopheles thinks it is an empty body, who's performance is trying to deny the reality of it's own existence. Rosalie, who has a bit more understanding of Astarion, sees that the performance is not just a coping mechanism but one of Astarion's main modes of survival. The Ascendent is Astarion's survival instinct/techniques for endurance, without any soul or person behind them to protect. This is how I tried to tie in the flirty, hypersexual persona and wrap it with a bow.
I wanted a monster that was undeniably scary, and monstrous to me (oh? you can't fit in or be happy no matter what you do and no matter how hard you try, and you think there's something intrinsically off? how's that autism diagnosis going Emma) but that I also felt sympathy and true sorrow for. I needed to have motivations for him chasing after Tav that I could write meaningfully from and sympathise with.
Not only has Astarion used Tav as a life-raft once before, they've also proven to be the most secure thing he's ever clung to. Of course a rabid survival instinct Astarion would become obsessed, and see them as a potential solution to the problem (this was then intensified by Rosalie also being a walking, overbearing moral compass, and having bound him in a contract in the first week of living, accidentally - a lawful good immoveable objects meets a default moral alignment unstoppable force.)
...Because I also wanted that moral alignment spice!! Wizards of the Coast, default moral alignment is fucked up actually!!! Imagine something trying so desperately to be good - literally being bound in a pact and having been told to be good - but the laws of the universe and its very essence are like "nah mate, we kind of want to destroy and annihilate everything, we're neutral evil personified". That's scary!! that's fucked up!! that's what a birth from 7000 deaths gets you!!!
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So, now for the actual timeline, for people who aren't interested in my silly musings but mostly just want answers lmfao.
Rosalie makes the decision not to intervene in Cazador's mansion, making it seem like she'll support whatever decision Astarion will make there.
Rite of Profane Ascension happens. Astarion conducts the ritual, rips his own soul from his body, the Ascendent is born with literally zero context. Mephistopheles is fucked in Cania, because a bunch of stuff has just gone wrong.
(oh, by the way, the Ascendent knows Infernal as a default language. Bc it's born from an Infernal rite.)
The Ascendent is now default neutral evil, and feeling some kind of way. Rosalie and him break up. He's supposed to have everything, but the one thing he thought was a done deal - his most stalwart suppporter - just rejected him.
Netherbrain defeat (the Ascendent is not invited. Imagine being an all-powerful, hypersexual survival instinct vampire, and your ex-girlfriend neither wants you for sex, nor your power.)
Rosalie accidentally binds the Ascendent (a soulless devil) in a pact demanding that he never kill anyone, when that's literally what the Ascendent's new existence/new default moral alignment is driving him to do. Then, she fucks off and goes into hiding.
Well. The Ascendent can just get another wizard, to help him learn all of Cazador's secrets to cope [Hemlock is recruited].
The years go by! The Ascendent is doing sooooo well. Everything is great, guys! I'm rich, I'm beautiful, I have lavish parties and lots of sex - why do I feel nothing? I'm a vampire perfected - I have no hunger for blood, I can walk in the sun, I can enjoy all the freedoms of a living, breathing man - why do I feel like I'm starving? Why does everything turn to ashes in my mouth? I have friends - oops, I've sabotaged all those friendships with my innate neutral evil destruction. Why can't I feel anything? What's wrong with me? I'm doing everything right? Why doesn't it feel that way?
Also, I can't kill anything to feel better about it, because my hidden ex-girlfriend bound me in a pact.
In this time, to reflect the gradual degradation of the Ascendent's happiness and it's increasing awareness that it is something Other and innately wrong, the reflection starts going weird. Starts going strange. Starts getting a bit fucked up. Almost as if, when he looks in the mirror and sees a person, *nothing* should be what's there. Imagine being a spawn who couldn't see your reflection, and then a vampire who could see it's reflection, but knows that they're innately empty. Knows there's nothing there. I'd freak out a little bit about it as well tbh, I'd go a bit tooth and claw and elongated jaw about it.
The Ascendent finally admits that's there must be something kinda fucked about it. Life just ain't working out, lads. He starts looking for any and all impossible cures that will help with the malaise in his soul (and that innate essence problem, caused by default moral alignment). These include: more bad decisions, such as a house in Cania bc the Ascendent is hoping he'll feel more at home with devils than he does with mortals. All it does is make him feel more isolated and alone.
But eventually, he settles on two things! - Wish (Hemlock's idea), and Rosalie (the Ascendent's idea). Clearly, we just need Rosalie back! Her leaving is actually what fucked him up in the first place - none of this existential bullshit! She fixed us one, she can fix us again.
But looking for Rosalie hasn't worked out. In order to get a shot at her, the Ascendent goes and bargains for his own soul from Mephistopheles. Mephistopheles, adding a new sheet in excel titled 'what the fuck happens when i give this soulless monster a soul to play with?', agrees and starts tracking his new data.
Obviously, just putting the soul back in yourself will fix you. But the Ascendent, the nothingness living inside Astarion's body, will die. Taking the soul back would erase itself. The Ascendent - who is survival instinct personified - would never do this.
So instead, it starts interviewing and cannibalising the soul. Bc a soul is what it needs, this is the closest it's ever felt to being alive. Bc it's made this all about Rosalie, he thinks he's found his solution. The chase is making him feel alive again. It's true love, lads! not the soul.
Wish auction happens - the Ascendent is beaten to the punch by some unknown (hot) wizard.
This avenue cut off, the Ascendent makes the decision to try and win Rosalie back.
Astarion advises that to make her come back to the Gate, he should murder a bunch of people. Because this comes from the soul, not the soulless devil nothingness, it circumvents the pact.
...The events of Pieces begin!
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And finally - the Ascendent tries to destroy Jar!Starion for many reasons in Chapter 19:
The Ascendent knows that it dies, if the soul and the body get reunited (or is that constant high alert survival instinct just no longer needed, because the problem is fixed? you decide.)
The Ascendent values Tav above itself. Tav is going to fix them. Astarion believes he could never fix himself.
Dissociation - that soul isn't me. I'm here, looking at my soul. If I get too close, it'll kill me.
Self-hatred - that soul isn't me. That man made a mistake, and I've had to live with the consequences. He doesn't deserve to live, for what he's made me become.
The knowledge that Rosalie/Tav will only ever want that version of him, not the one that's living and breathing, that sees itself as the most wretched, fucked-up version of itself. So... give them no choice. They have to deal with me and love me at my worst.
And if the Rite didn't work - if the version of the Ascendent walking around isn't the best one, and the one people want... what was it all for? Why does the Ascendent feel like this? Why does it have to suffer?
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....And, that's my little meta post! If anyone has any questions about the timeline or any motivations at any points in the fic, I'm obviously more than happy to explain things via ask/comment, as always!
TLDR: I just wanted to make a Gothic horror. I wanted a dark romance, fucked up obsession vampire/mortal dynamic, but I also wanted a situation that was scary for both Astarion and my Tav. I personally think an Astarion who is so dissociated and separate from reality that he feels that in his bones daily, is scary. It's the lingering impact of the traumas the Rite and those 7,000 souls embodied.
I was literally just trying to make it a horror, for everyone involved.
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shelaghdette · 3 days
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the mischaracterisation of shelagh turner
this post will be a bit of a ramble, and i promise im not directly attacking any one person or group! i've just seen a few things over the course of my involvement with the fandom that trouble me a bit.
as a disclaimer: i LOVE shelagh intensely. she's perhaps my favourite fictional character in ANY piece of media. of course i have my own fixed opinions, so this makes me inherently biased. take whatever i say with a pinch of salt, im just an internet lesbian.
damselification
there's a common take in the fandom that shelagh left the order just for patrick. i'd like to argue this isnt true. patrick was a massive part of her reason, and i'd even agree that falling for him gave her the final push, but we have evidence to suggest she was considering it LONG before we first saw the turnadette plot.
shelagh wanted to hang out with the GIRLS. shelagh saw jenny, trixie and cynthia's freedom and she wanted it. in the beginning, it had very little to do with a man. when she takes her wimple off and stands in front of the mirror, shes trying to find herself.
shelagh had a desire to be a free woman. being in love with patrick was a part of it, but not the whole picture.
even when she did choose to be with patrick, she made those decisions all on her own. she didn't read the letters he sent her until she was already certain of her choice. she wasn't going to be begged, and she wasn't going to beg him, either. shelagh would have left the order whether patrick really wanted to be with her or not.
in fics, shelagh is often portrayed as a helpless baby who needed patrick to save her from her indecision paralysis. i don't think this is true.
stupification (sex mention ahead!)
shelagh is a MIDWIFE. not only that, she's confirmed to be the most accomplished and talented in her field at nonnatus house. i would argue her intelligence and competence in her job is equal to, if not greater, than her husband's. she has an extensive knowledge of the female anatomy. she's studied it for years. she works with it every single day.
SO PLEASE STOP ACTING LIKE SHELAGH TURNER WOULDN'T KNOW WHAT A BLOODY CLITORIS IS! the amount of smut fics ive read that have been instantly ruined by patrick mansplaining her own anatomy to her is not ridiculously high, but it isnt zero either. and whenever it happens, it does my head in. i'm not saying shelagh's going to leave the order and immediately become an absolute sex goddess, that's also unrealistic. but dear god, she knows what her own bits are called. it's just another way she's infantilized and turned into a weak little angel baby who patrick has to smother and save.
on a less nsfw note, i just feel like some fics don't give shelagh's intelligence the credit it's due. it's hard to fully explain without giving examples (which i don't want to do bc i feel like that's unfair and really mean), but in general, patrick just hand-holds her a lot and explains basic things she'd have no trouble understanding on her own. girly is CLEVER. let her be clever.
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seosracha · 3 days
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Hi again! Now that ik you do song based fics, i must share my idea with you cause i love your writing!. I was wondering if you'd do a fic for ZB1 Hanbin or Zhang Hao (whichever you think fits this best!) based on the song "like you want me to" by Lyn Lapid where reader believes they deserve someone better than them! <3
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୨୧⸻ like you want me to - SUNG HANBIN
genre: angst NOTHING MORE😂🔥🙏 , oneshot
pairing: sung hanbin x gn!reader
wc: 0.6k
authors note: hi nonnie I just want to tell you IM OBSSESED with this song now and also sorry for being lazy and not doing this req 😆😆 anyways requests are open if anyones interested!!!
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You’ve been dating Sung Hanbin for around 8 months now. 
He was everything you ever wanted in a man; kind, caring and wasn't afraid to show his love for you. He was also gorgeous, a smile always decorated his face so perfectly, never allowing you to stay mad at him for long periods of time. He touched your mind and heart so beautifully and delicately. 
That's how he always was. At least at the beginning. He'd be so proud to show you off to his friends, not afraid of being bullied by them for it. He'd take you out practically everyday, glad to even have the oppurtunity to be near you.
And even as embarassing as it was to admit, Hanbin was your every first. You had never been the one to initate romantic interctions with people, and he was the one who truly showed you what it means to love someone deeply.
So it was hard to accept the fact that he no longer was the Hanbin you fell in love with. 
You wished you could go back to the moment he changed. You kept blaming yourself for it, wondering where you went wrong, why was it never enough. If only you knew the exact thing, the exact day when the switch flipped inside of him, maybe you could find a way to fix it all. 
You gave him the world, and would give him more if you ever could. Some part of you didn't want to accept the fact that you did deserve better, because the short moments when you’d see the old Hanbin peek through his new persona, kept you in place. 
Maybe he had noticed, trying desperately to keep you around, but it was all so fake. It was all so incredibly fake, cause it'd never last. 
And you never wanted to ruin the one afternoon you’d occasionally have together, bringing up issues in the midst of a moment you so rarely were a witness of. He’d show up at your house, and even though you knew you shouldn’t come out, thinking that maybe he’d finally understand, still, somehow your heart found a way to open that door. 
You knew you were hurting yourself by doing this. You knew that the longer you continued lying to yourself, the harder it would get to let him go. You needed much more than he could possibly offer you, and yet still you found yourself opening that door, replying to that message, and answering that call. 
Your friend had told you she had seen him with someone else last Wednesday. 
You should’ve realized you needed someone better a long time ago. 
How come it took so much fights, lies and harsh words for you to finally realize your worth. 
And even though Hanbin was practically perfect, you knew deep deep down that even with a spark, it doesn’t mean it’s gonna light. 
You loved learning knew things, absorbing new knowledge, and the one thing you learned so quickly was how to love him.
So you hated the fact that'd you'd never learn how to stop.
You may have loved Hanbin, but he’d never want you like you wanted him to. 
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jewelryhut · 3 days
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Invincible: Mark Grayson x FEM!reader
Firstly, I want to start by saying this: I had the first part written out perfectly, then Tumblr just suddenly exited out to my home screen. I wasn't able to safe it to drafts on time (cause I honestly didn't know that was gonna happen), so if the first part seemed kinda sloppy, you know why.
"I'm glad to see you're back here, Mark." The nurse greeted and gave her best toothy grin to the older male. The man, who had a bouquet of flowers, respond with a low chuckle. So low, you would assume he hadn't heard her. "Those flowers are for Ms. L/N?"
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"Yeah," He rubbed the back of his neck as a nervous smile appeared on his lips. "These are my apologies for not showing up lately. Hope she doesn't get angry at me."
"I'm sure she won't be angry, Mark. Ms. L/N is kinder than you think. Although it's not my place to speak; you should know how amazing your grandma is, Mark." The man flinched at this. It was like a bullet piercing through his soul; It was something he couldn't dodge. He fixed a fake smile on his face to hide the disturbed one he had.
"I know she's kind. Too kind." With that, he bid the nurse farewell to meet with the patient.
His eyes came across many doors, but soon stopped at one he was most familiar with. His face was calm, but his eyes held fear. No, not because he was afraid of her, but because of the future after he leave her behind. What will life be like then? He groaned. He made sure his shirt was tucked neatly in his pants before walking into the room.
"Mark? Is that you?"
"Yeah. It's me." He quickly responded, making his way to the seat that was next to her bed.
"I'm was starting to think you forgotten about me." The older woman joked, which he laughed at.
"I'll never forget about you, Y/N." He leaned over to give the woman a kiss on the forehead. "I bought you flowers. "
The woman glanced at them, lips widen as she took in the sight of the beautiful plants. "Kee getting me these flowers, Mark and in here would be a garden." She joked, but Mark knew that she appreciated them anyways. "So..."
Mark gave the woman his full attention.
"How's Eve?" Mark knew where this was going and he hated it. He stayed silent, refusing to answer her. "Oh, come on. Has your lady magnet vanished? I would've assumed you'd have many women flocking over you."
"Yeah, Y/N, but—"
"But what? You're not thinking that we're still together, right?" The man stayed silent and Y/N sighed at this. "Look, Mark. I'm sixty-four and your twenty-five. It's not going to work out. You have a whole life ahead of you. Didn't you say you wanted kids? I'm sure it's still possible without me."
"Yeah, but I wanted them with you!" He stood up from his chair in frustration. "It's only because I'm half viltrumite that it's impossible to live a life with the woman I love. Dad was able to love mom, why can't I do so with you." Y/N stayed quiet as she listened to his rant. "I just.. I just..." He sat back down in defeat, placing his head tiredly into his hands. "I just really love you, Y/N. I really do."
The woman's eyes started to form tears at the man's words. "I know, Mark. I know." She then closed her eyes as she continued to speak. "But even so, Mark. You have to move on. Who knows when it'll be my last days on earth."
"Don't say that."
"But it's true."
The room went silent. Beeping noise from the machine was the only thing being heard. Mark's sniffing was just as loud as well. He tried to hold his tears back, but it was impossible. He didn't like the direction life was taking him. He didn't want this. At the moment, he wished he was born without powers, so then he and Y/N could live a life without worry.
"Um.. I'm sorry, Mark—uh, Mr. Grayson. Visiting hours are over. You can come same time tomorrow." The nurse from earlier entered the room, a small frown on her face at the sight before her.
"Yeah," The male only muttered. He stood up from the chair and began making his way out of the room. "I'll see you tomorrow." Y/N nodded in response at this and watched as her once in a lifetime lover left her sight.
———
Although it pained him, Mark decided to take Y/N's advice.
It had been a week since he had visited Y/N and during those days, he had went on a date with Eve, which Y/N was very excited about (he had told her during a phone call). Today, he was planning another date with the red head when he had gotten an unexpected call from the hospital.
"Mark? Hi, it's Annise from Silver's hospital and I called to let you know that—"
"Is Y/N alright? It has been awhile since I've last visited her. I hope she isn't too upset." He laughed, but was met with silence on the other line.
"Well, about that." The nurse was hesitant to continue, but she pulled through. "Ms. L/N has passed away. We really tried our best to—" Before the woman was even able to finish, the door to the hospital was bust open. Her eyes widen at the sudden sight of Mark. "M-Mark!"
"Where is she? Where is she?!"
"We've already placed her in the—"
"Let me see her!"
"Mark, please calm down." The nurse was panicky as she wasn't sure how to handle the male, so she opt to call for security.
"Please. You have to let me see her." Mark slouched his body as he allowed the security to take him away. "Please." Annise watched as the group of men took the pained man away. She felt terrible.
———
Mark, now thirty-five, stood before Y/N's grave with a somber look. Many years had past and if there was a way he could rewind time to prevent this from happening, he would, but sadly he can't.
"Daddy, daddy! Mummy told me to check on you." Mark removed his eyes from the tombstone and onto his daughter.
He smiled. "I'm doing good." He picked up his daughter, Terra, and gave her kiss on the cheek. "I'm just giving a gift to the dead."
"Do you know the dead?"
"Only this one." He answered and the girl stayed silent. Soon enough, Eve made her way to her husband.
"You ready to go?" She question, and yet, she knew the answer to that.
"Just.. Yeah. Let's go." He placed his daughter on the ground and took ahold of her hand, soon leaving the sight of the graveyard.
Placed on the tombstone was a familiar bouquet of flowers that Mark once gave to Y/N.
'You are loved and you will be missed.'
——
Let me know what you think?
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I think that Dr. Christina "I was an excellent soldier" Raynor needs to deal with some personal things before she's anyone's therapist, because she strong-armed more of Bucky's autonomy away from him than Zemo did within the series.
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hyunniesgirl · 3 months
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My cat likes you
Pairing: Lee Know x gn!reader
Genre: fluff
Summary: your cat is behaving strangely lately and a walk outside your apartment shows you exactly why.
Warnings: none
A/N: I saw a video on Instagram with a cat rubbing on the floor when they saw a cute guy and I was like "why is this so Lee Know coded?" And had to make something like that with him heheheh
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It's been a few days since your cat started behaving strangely, she'll wake you up early in the morning meowing at your room’s door. At first you thought she did that because she was hungry, but when you put food in her bowl she ignores it and keeps meowing.
You realized then, that she wanted you to follow her as she twirled and rubbed on the floor. She would wait for you at the door and would keep scratching it, waiting for you to open it.
“It's too early for a walk, Bo-mi”, you tell her, shaking your head and turning around, going back to your bed to try and sleep a little bit more before work.
She keeps insisting on the early morning walks, but you don't give in, you can't have her get used to going out when it's still time for you to be sleeping.
After a few days, Bo-mi starts having that same behavior late at night, when you are already in bed, ready to go to sleep. She meows for minutes straight until you get up and walk with her to the door.
“Bo-mi, we can't go out now, I'm already in my pjs”, you sigh, patting her. But she keeps scratching the door and meowing for you to go out. “Tomorrow is Friday, okay? So I can stay up late to take you out for a walk”, you tell her before going back to your room.
You spend the next day trying to figure out why she's acting this way. You think about the possibility of her being sick, but she's eating and drinking water normally and she's sleeping the same amount as she always did. Her last check up wasn't even two months ago, even so, you should definitely make an appointment with the veterinarian.
You arrive at home and Bo-mi comes running to you, purring and rubbing herself on you. After you pet her, she goes back to the couch, getting comfortable there again, she doesn't even try to go to the door. Why does she just want to go out when it's late? Or early in the morning? It’s just strange.
Thinking too much about it won't help you find out what's going on, so you give up on the thoughts and just go to the bathroom to take a shower and put on some comfortable clothes since you have to take the lady of the house for a walk in a few hours.
Everything kind of makes sense when you open the door and Bo-mi goes running to the corridor, however, she stops at your neighbor's door, sniffing a bit. The sound of the elevator takes you out of your thoughts and your cat walks in that direction finding a strange man coming out of the elevator.
He looks at her and smiles, trying to go past her but she throws herself in the ground, showing her belly to him and rubbing herself on the floor.
Before you can speak, the guy bends down, petting and making her meow. You look at your watch to see that he's arriving at the exact time that Bo-mi tries going out every night. The weirdest thing is that she hates strangers, especially men.
“I’m sorry”, you finally get out of your head to say something, “she has been acting strangely lately”
“It's okay”, he says, without looking at you. Hypnotized by your cat's little meows and cuteness. “I actually saw her on the balcony one of these days, but couldn't pet her because of the distance”, he chuckles. “What's her name?”
He finally looks at you when asking that and for a moment it seems like the world stops for the both of you. He's the most handsome man you have ever seen in your entire life, with cute boba eyes and an innocent look.
“It's Bo-mi”, you tell him, feeling your cheeks a bit warm.
He clears his throat, petting your cat for the last time before standing up again, fixing his clothes. He didn't look at you at first, but you are so pretty it actually left him speechless and that is a hard thing to achieve. He was even going to make a joke about cats, but couldn't even manage to get that out while looking at your face.
“I'm sorry to ask, but do you also go out around five a.m.?” You ask out of nowhere, making him look at you suspiciously.
“Yeah, why?”
“Because I think my cat is in love with you”, you tell him, pointing at Bo-mi, rubbing herself on his legs. “She always tries to go out around five in the morning or at this time of the night, I guess she wanted to see you again”
You really understand Bo-mi on that, you would also want to see him everyday if you had the chance.
“Oh”, he smiles, “I'm Minho by the way, I moved here two weeks ago”, he says pointing to his apartment.
“I'm y/n”, you give your hand for him to shake, “I know it's weird to ask this, but can I bring her out sometimes so she can see you?” You ask, shyly, making Minho chuckle.
“Yeah”, he nods, “maybe you can also meet my cats”, he says, feeling his ears warming up. “I mean, in a housewarming party, of course”, he completes.
“I would love that”, you smile and he feels like he could melt just with that, “I'll take her home now”, you catch Bo-mi in your arms even though she struggles to get out of your grasp and go back to Minho, “I'll wait excitedly to meet your cats”
Minho watches you go into your apartment, waving to him before closing the door. Now, how the hell does a housewarming party even work?
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peachsayshi · 3 months
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🩵
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni) - dad gojo x reader
papa's scary face is how your daughter describes it. the difference when her usually bubbly, bright father morphs into somebody else. the expression he makes when she accidentally walks in on you and satoru having a serious argument. when she catches him coming home from work with his shoulders taut and his brows furrowed.
satoru's daughter is the light of his life - his little peace of heaven on earth. that's why he is so terrible when it comes to discipline (a lecture you constantly have to give him). she has never been on the receiving end of your lover's scary face. isn't familiar with the hardened muscles he express when serious, or notices the angry twitch of his jaw when frustrated.
it's rare, but these moments happen. satoru may possess godlike powers, but he's still inherently human. his very essence the same that make up you and your daughter.
you're surprised when you see her quietly tiptoe her way towards the sofa, towards you and her father. her energetic aura dwindled by silence. her bottom lip is tucked tightly between her teeth, her beautiful round eyes varnished with tears ready to fall.
satoru's face instantly drops with concern. his body immediately growing protective with his arm lightly slipping away from around your waist.
"you okay, mochi?" he asks sweetly, his brow quirking at her arms tucked behind her back.
you both know that she's hiding something.
"I did something bad" she says quietly, her worried voice so small it makes satoru spring to his feet to meet her halfway.
he crouches on his knees, his height daunting compared to hers. he lightly tugs at her frosty pigtail, and she sniffles ever so slightly to keep her brave face in place.
always trying to hold a strong front, just like her father.
"what did you do?" he asks with a gentle smile, watching her shift from one foot to the next.
" I..uhm...I was playing with your toys," she mumbles, unable to meet his gaze as she keeps her own firmly on her pattering feet. "I know they're yours. I know I have’ta ask first. I was tryna to be...uhm..."
"careful?" satoru completes, tilting his head in an attempt to make contact with his hesitant daughter who still hasn't figured out all her words just yet.
"yeh that..." she grumbles to reveal what's behind her hands.
you press your fingers against your lips when you see it.
satoru's favorite pair of sunglasses.
a limited edition pair from one of his favorite high fashion brands. he splurged a stupid amount of money of it. even kept the packaging because he hyper fixated on the details. the frame was extremely delicate, which is why he rarely wore it. but he gushed over it for almost a year since it's pre-release was announced.
his daughter, however, has a habit of sneaking into her father's room to steal one of the many pairs of shades that your lover wore. she enjoyed "modeling" them, and would flash poses in front of your bedroom mirror while sifting through his collection like they were treasure.
you and satoru have caught her doing this many times before, and while the both of you found it adorable, you realized that your daughter wasn't very careful when handling things.
she scratched the lens of another pair that belonged to her father. bent the temple of a second, which he hasn't been able to fix.
so, when satoru received these specific shades, the two of you sat her down to try and explain that she couldn't freely just loot around his stuff without asking for permission.
right now, those very shades where split into two in his daughter's hands.
satoru's jaw goes slack when he picks them up from her tiny palms, his cheeks tinting a slight red from surprise.
"im sorry, papa," she timidly begs, bringing her now empty hands to cover her eyes. her body heaves, you can see that she is trying really hard not to cry.
satoru allows the shock to settle for only just a minute, before he places the broken sunglasses by his side. there's something else that washes over him - relief.
he circles his arms around her wrists, tugging them away from her face but she keeps them fiercely in place. he chuckles with ease, shaking his head in disbelief as he loosens his grip to grab her waist and pull her into his frame.
"silly girl," he teases. "it's okay, papa's not mad, I promise..."
"but I didn't listen to what you 'n mama said-"
"I know," he sighs calmly, "and you know that was wrong, right? not to listen?"
she nods her head yes, her hands still covering her face.
"Eyes on me, grabby hands..." satoru lectures but she shakes her head no.
"Don't wanna see your scary face," she awkwardly admits, and you can't help but bite back a smile.
she's far too innocent to understand what those expressions. to young to acknowledge that they weren't always bad. that they were, in fact, normal. and that one day she will bare the cross of these complex emotions herself.
"scary face?" satoru huffs, "you think daddy has a scary face?"
she drops her hands to her side swiftly, revealing her guilt and wet cheeks. she furiously shakes her head no, taking in a large inhale as she wipes her face with the back of her hands.
it makes your heart ache watching her try to comprehend the weight of her small feelings.
"nu-uh," she reassures, "but-but sometimes..."
satoru kisses her plush cheek three times over to interrupt her eyes, "I am not mad at you, mochi," he consoles, "just promise you won't do it again."
"pinky swear!" she yelps as she searches for his long, slender digits. the relief brings the color back into her face, the pale sheet of white bloomed with a tiny blush. she hooks her pinky around satoru's, the size different so prominent, before eagerly wrapping her arms around his neck. "m'sorry, papa"
"it's okay, baby," he coos as he kisses her forehead.
the scene is heartwarming, and while satoru maintained his cool, you can still read the disappointment on his face.
the pair slip away from each other's arms, your daughter picking up the broken shades as she patters her way back down the hallway to give you both some privacy.
satoru gets up, his hand clutching his chest as he turns to give you a pathetically sad expression.
"how much does it hurt?" you tease, watching him drag his feet back to you.
you grumble when he collapses into your chest, burying his nose into your neck as he wraps his strong arms around your waist.
"this is the worst heartbreak of my life," he groans obnoxiously, and you raise your own brows in surprise.
"I thought our break up was the worst heartbreak you’ve experienced," you chide, twirling the strands of his soft hair between your fingers.
"seriously? you want to bring that up now? while I'm in mourning?"
you giggle when he sinks his teeth into the delicate flesh of your neck, nipping at your skin tenderly before exhaling with sorrow.
"ugh, she's got me wrapped around her fingers like taffy," he moans like he can’t believe his own defeat, "did you see her face? how can I even get mad?"
"I know, my love," you coo, consoling your own crybaby.
Minutes pass in silence before satoru finally ponders that, "maybe, I can find another pair online or something-"
"papa!" your daughter chirps, interrupting the moment as quickly as she graced it.
satoru untangles himself from your embrace, sitting upright to see her pigtails bouncing as she scampers towards you both. her steps hit the ground fast. he doesn't even have a chance to answer before she climbs on his lap, her eyes still a little glossy from shedding her tears. she wipes away the rogue strands of feathery hairs that stuck to her temple, before showing off what's in her hand.
"I fixed it for you," she beams, her face hopeful and optimistic.
Satoru picks up the glasses from between her fingers, noticing that she had used one of her washy tapes to stick the bridge back together.
It was blue, and had little ducks on it.
You can feel an eruption of laughter bubbling in your chest, but pure love bleeds through Satoru's eyes, completely moved by her gesture.
"Aww, mochi," he gently replies, tracing his thumb over the tape.
He arches forward to kiss her nose, while she seeks another embrace between mumbling into his ear that she loves him.
You simply melt by their side.
Satoru doesn't wear the glasses anymore, but he still keeps them. Bringing them out every once in a while to show his daughter that he still loves them.
Even though they sit quite lopsided on his handsome face.
[requests are closed]
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vanteguccir · 3 months
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Sleeping inside her | Matt Sturniolo
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Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Y/N wants to be impossibly close to Matt.
Warning: Slightly smut, cockwarming.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
Part 2
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Y/N had an appreciation for all love languages, practicing each one individually with her favorite people, but it wasn't news to anyone that her favorite was physical touch. The girl loves to always be very close physically to the ones she loves, giving tight hugs and kisses on the cheek, valuing moments and people that allow her to act in such a way.
When Y/N fell in love with Matt, her love language was precisely what made her feelings for him apparent, her body always seeming to seek to be next to his, her hands lightly touching Matt's arms or legs as they interacted automatically, and that was exactly what encouraged Matt to take the first step.
After Y/N and Matt started dating and Matt stated many times that he loved the girl's way of showing her love for him, she felt comfortable enough to act however she wanted; Her body began to always look for his, now being able to sit on his lap on specific occasions, place her hand on his thigh or her arms around his waist, caressing the covered or, sometimes, exposed skin with her fingers.
Kisses became frequent, a quick peck on the cheek or forehead, simple pecks on the lips or a war of tongues. For Y/N, the closer, the better.
It is well known that physical touch between a couple increases the feeling of emotional well-being and even strengthens the bond, intimacy and connection, and for Y/N and Matt, it meant many things: love, passion, excitement and rest, too, a way to recharge their energy.
That's why, when Y/N finally entered her house after a long day of work, all she thought about doing was clinging to Matt. She reached blindly for the lock on the front door, placing her key there and locking it, before walking in the dark from her living room and down the long hallway, until she reached her bedroom, which she shared with her boyfriend.
The girl knocked twice on the door, before slowly opening it. Her face lit up when her eyes found Matt sitting at the computer desk located in the corner of the room, his headphones on top of his head, muffled melodies of some Dominic Fike song coming out, while his fingers blindly typed words, his blue eyes fixed on the screen where a Word document was open. Y/N assumed he was writing some video idea for the triplets' channel or his personal channel, which he hadn't appeared in a long time.
Y/N closed the door behind her carefully, not wanting to scare Matt with a loud noise, thanking in her mind that the lights in the room were low. The girl placed her bag on the floor before walking towards her boyfriend, lightly touching his arm to show that she was there, finally gaining the brunette's attention.
Matt lifted his head, lowering his headset automatically, his eyes focused on the girl's face, a big smile stretching across his own.
"Hi baby, I didn't hear you coming." The boy whispered, Y/N smiled back, wrapping her arms around Matt's shoulders and pulling him against her, wanting to be close. The boy wrapped his own arms around her waist, taking advantage of the position created by her, while he laid his head against her clothed belly, being able to close his eyes for a few seconds and rest his mind.
"I came in slowly, 'didn't want to scare you." Y/N whispered back, leaning down a little so she could kiss the top of Matt's head, her hand stroking the area gently, smiling as she heard a contented sigh escape her boyfriend's lips. "Have you showered yet?" She asked, the fresh scent of soap answering her question.
Matt shook his head positively, looking like he didn't want to move, his computer task already forgotten.
"Turn off the computer, sweetheart. I'm going to take a quick shower and then we can go to bed." Y/N asked in a low tone, kissing Matt's head once more before pulling away, laughing at the boy's grumbling.
Y/N walked to the bathroom, taking off her jacket and throwing it on a corner chair on the way, finally being able to undress completely when she reached the small room, throwing her clothes in the laundry basket before getting into the hot shower.
Her shower was quick, her anticipation of finally being able to lie down with her boyfriend getting the best of her, and before Y/N knew it, she was already finishing drying herself off. The girl hung her towel, now damp, in the proper space inside the bathroom before leaving, the cold wind from the room meeting her naked body, making her shiver. Y/N started walking to their closet, but stopped halfway, an idea popping into her head.
She turned around with an lazy smile, walking quickly towards the door, her hands stopping on the latch and turning the key, locking it, finally being able to go to her bed where Matt was already lying under the covers and shirtless, ready to sleep.
Y/N went to her own side of the bed, lifting the blanket and laying down in the cold space from the lack of human heat, grateful to see that Matt was only wearing boxers. The girl let out a low laugh when she saw Matt's confused expression as his blue eyes runned over her body.
"What are you planning, hm?" Matt asked, turning sideways and facing her, running his large, cold hand around his girlfriend's waist, making her shiver, pulling her close.
"I need to feel you as close as possible today." Y/N whispered, looking him in the eyes. Matt quickly understood, cockwarming was not a new thing in their relationship, having discovered that they both liked it when Matt didn't take his cock out of the girl after a rough session, afraid of hurting his girl because she was too sensitive, staying there for a few hours while they talked.
"Are you needy, my love?" Matt asked quietly, lowering his hand that was still on Y/N's body to her thigh, caressing the area, pulling her impossibly close, smiling when he saw the girl sigh and nod, lowering his face enough to capture her rosy lips with his.
Their kiss was simple, just a movement of lips, no tongue involved. Matt knew that if he deepened it, the situation would take a different turn, and he was too tired for that right now.
Y/N smiled in pleasure during the kiss, her hand resting on Matt's chest, loving the contrast between her cold hand and his warm chest.
Matt broke the kiss, sealing their lips one last time before pulling away, appreciating the closeness of their bodies. Y/N took her hands to Matt's boxers, questioning him with her gaze briefly and finally lowering the piece of clothing after receiving a nod from the brunette, who raised his hips slightly to help her with her action, removing the piece completely with his legs.
Y/N opened the drawer of her bedside table and took the lubricant, opening the package and pouring some into the palm of her hand, closing it before bringing her smeared hand to her boyfriend's semi-hard cock, pumping him a few times as she watched his expression, blue eyes closing briefly at the sensation.
When the girl thought she had spread enough, she turned her body, facing away from Matt and stretching so that she put the lubricant back in the drawer, closing it. Matt took the initiative and took his hand to Y/N's leg, caressing the skin and pulling it up, his free hand taking his cock and directing it towards the girl's intimacy, inserting the head of the member into her hole.
A soft, breathy sigh left Y/N's mouth, her eyes closing in sudden pleasure. She bit her bottom lip to keep any noise from escaping as Matt slid his entire length into her.
Once fully inside, the brunette lowered her still raised leg, his right arm passing under Y/N's head carefully while his left arm wrapped around her waist, burying his face in his girlfriend's neck, holding himself back from moaning.
Matt loved the feeling of being inside Y/N, along with the heat of the sticky walls that squeezed his cock so deliciously, pulling him deeper inside, if that was even possible. The girl tried her best not to move her hips, remaining still.
Matt ran his tongue between his lips, wetting them while he also controlled himself by pressing his chest against her back and pulling air through his nose, loving the smell of the body cream and soap that exuded from Y/N's bare skin.
His blue eyes closed, feeling warm and comfortable. The girl pulled the blanket higher, preventing the cold air from the room from reaching their bodies, delighting in the feeling of Matt inside her and the warm bed, finally being able to rest in peace.
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Part 2
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all4yoi · 1 month
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was it just a game to you?
𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw. hyung line , 2nd pov , ︎ poor attempt on angst , lowercase intended , hand holding ( not w u! xd ) , karina mentioned on heeseung's & wonyoung on sunghoon's , not proofread ! part two here !
catching them holding hands with another girl after they accepted your confession 
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confessing to them was already on your monthly bucket list, but them accepting it and liking you back certainly wasn't. feeling ecstatic, you walk towards your university's glass doors only to find him holding hands with a female that certainly isn't you.
★ LEE HEESEUNG
eyes trained on their hands clutched tightly on to one another, you watch silently as the girl smiled up at him shyly, tucking a strand of her hair with her empty hand.
doubt began overtaking you. right, who would choose someone like you over someone like karina? she was everything you weren't. perfect face, perfect body, she's kind, and absolutely beautiful. if you were heeseung, you would choose her too.
you flinched as you made eye contact with the girl holding hands with someone who should be yours. she sent you a smile, a genuine one. not mocking, nor insulting. she didn't have any idea about the conversation last night you shared with the man she's holding hands with.
she didn't know about how he smiled at you brightly, didn't know about the hug you two shared, and absolutely didn't know about how he said he liked you too. so how could you hate and blame her?
before you could even send a smile back at her, heeseung turned around and instantly took his hand back when his gaze landed on your stiff body.
instead of making a scene, you showed them the best smile you could muster despite the quiver on your lips before quickly walking away towards your first class.
heeseung panicked, turning to karina.
"you're a great friend karina, but i don't feel the same. i'm sorry."
with that, he ran after you hoping you would hear him out and let him explain.
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other members utc!
★ PARK JONGSEONG
you felt your mood instantly drop. yesterday he promised he would prove to you how much he liked you back too, now he's holding hands with a pretty girl.
your eyes quickly met his and the way he quickly took his hand back from the girl made you even more upset. you watched as the female said something incoherent to him before he approached you hastily.
he stood infront of you, worry written all over his face. your frowned deepened, betrayal making your chess heavy.
"it's not what it looked like, i promise." jay whispered that only you could hear. he didn't want you doubting his feelings for you, he was merely helping the girl up after he had bumped into her. she insisted on shaking his hand after telling him her name, it was such wrong timing that you saw.
he didn't mean to hurt you.
"it's okay. i'll see you later jay." was all you said before walking away with a small smile. he watched your figure become smaller and smaller until he lost your figure to the students crowding the halls.
despite the smile on your pretty face, jay knew he had hurt you badly and he intended on fixing that. for now, he'd give you space.
★  SIM JAEYUN
his hand was instantly removed from hers as soon as you saw it. you didn't know what to feel. were you supposed to be glad that he immediately let her go as soon as your eyes met his? still, you don't know for how long he has been holding her hand before you even saw.
but then again, you two weren't together. so who were you to be mad? he liked you back sure, but he wasn't your boyfriend. he could hold hands with anyone he'd like. but was it bad to hope that he'd only do those things with you?
you couldn't help the tears falling down your cheeks. immediately, you felt ashamed. ashamed for crying about something so stupid like this, so you did what everyone would've done.
you ran, ignoring his desperate calls for you. and even when he caught up with you and brought you to his chest, the tears didn't stop. you mentally cursed yourself for being so sensitive.
pushing yourself away from him, you wiped away the tears.
"i can explain, please."
"it's fine jake, really. i just wish you would've been more honest with me." lips wobbly as you attempted a small smile, jake's heart broke as he watched you walk away from him again.
★  PARK SUNGHOON
you didn't know what to do. there he was, holding hands with the prettiest girl in campus with other students fawning over them. exclaims on how good they looked together echoed through your ears.
maybe he only said he liked you back to make fun of your reaction with his friends. maybe it was a lousy bet between him and his friends to make you believe he actually liked you back.
"don't they look absolutely good together? seriously, sunghoon and wonyoung, literally everyone here expected them to get together at some point" a random student told you, her smile wide as she observed the two, who were still holding hands.
the way he stiffened and dropped her hand as soon as your eyes met his brought you back to reality. blending in with the crowd in the halls, you attempted to escape his line of sight, desperate to leave before the tears in your tear ducts escape.
you were forced to halt when you felt a strong grip on your forearm. sunghoon turned you around to face him, his brows furrowed whilst he bit his bottom
"y/n.." he gulped as he saw how your eyes got teary immediately. "i'm sorry, it's not like that at all."
"so why were you holding her hand? with the biggest smile on your face?" he kept his mouth shut, unable to form an answer. this only made you frustrated even more.
pulling your arm back, you cleared your throat and looked down on your shoe. "you could've turned me down instead of making me hope- nevermind.. see you around."
sunghoon watched you walk away from him helplessly, mentally beating himself up for not clearing things up.
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moonbeamwritings · 3 months
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“Nanamiiiinn,” Gojo croons, dragging out the end of that stupid nickname with a knowing smirk. Nanami heaves a sigh at the sound. It's tolerable enough coming from Itadori, sure, but it's insufferable when Nanami knows Gojo is using it to goad him on.
“I didn’t take you for that kind of guy,” Gojo continues when Nanami doesn't answer. He bends at the waist to speak into Nanami’s ear, a hand curling around the back of his chair to trap him in the seat. “Comin’ into work with lipstick smeared all over your face.”
Nanami can't help but roll his eyes. "Ha ha. I'm not whipping out my phone just so you'll say 'HA! Made you look!'" Gojo's attempted the same juvenile prank one too many times for Nanami to have any sort of faith in this new line of teasing.
"Oh?" Gojo's stepped around the table to drop into the seat across from him, a smirk evident on his features. "Don't believe me, huh?"
Before Nanami can stop him, Gojo is pulling out his phone and taking a picture with an audible click. Smugly, he turns the screen so Nanami can see for himself.
The photo reveals a shiny pink smudge across the high point of his cheek and dotted on the corner of his lips. Nanami's nose wasn't spared in the onslaught either it seems, one mark crossing the bridge while the other is perfectly placed on the tip.
"It's a good look for you!" Gojo assures him, smiling down at the photo. "It's not every day I get to see you look so..." He thinks for a moment. "Soft."
Nanami rolls his eyes, again, and rubs the pad of his thumb at the corner of his mouth. "You're insufferable."
Gojo's mouth is agape. "I won't take credit for such a masterpiece, Nanamin. You know me better than that!" The comment seems to spark something in the other sorcerer's mind, and Nanami does not like the look that crosses his face. Not one bit. "But I have my suspicions as to who our little lipstick owner may be."
When Gojo starts marking the possible suspects by counting on his fingers, Nanami decides to quit while he's ahead and see himself out, his quiet time thoroughly ruined. He moves to stand, but Kugisaki and Itadori enter the room before he can get too far.
The teens greet the pair, and Nanami has one foot out the door when Kugisaki's eyes narrow in on him. He feels stuck beneath it, like he's suddenly trapped in quicksand.
She gestures to his nose. "You've got something there." A pause. "And there."
"I'm aware, thank you."
"Is it-" Itadori leans closer to inspect the situation, too. This is nightmarish, Nanami thinks, embarrassed at being so scrutinized. "Is it lipstick?"
Gojo's response is snide. Immediate. "It is."
Nanami shoots him a glare over Kugisaki's shoulder. Oh, if looks could kill.
"I've seen this shade before." Kugisaki says, fixing Itadori with a puzzled expression. "Do you think it's-"
The whole interaction is innocent, Nanami knows. The teens aren't trying to rake him over the coals. They're not intending to prolong his suffering. But with every second of debate, Gojo's grin only grows, the answer to the mystery coming closer and closer to his grasp.
Kugisaki's face alights with excitement when she finally puts a face and name to her thought. "Oh, I know!"
Oh no.
Your name falls from Kugisaki's lips as if in slow motion. Every letter, every agonizing second drawn out in near comedic fashion.
The look on Nanami's face must give him away because Gojo is up out of his chair in record time, an accusatory finger pointing in his direction. "I knew it! I knew you two were a thing!"
Nanami ignores the display entirely, nodding politely at the students. "Have a nice afternoon, you two."
He retreats down the hallway to the echoing sounds of Gojo's elation, making his way towards the nearest bathroom to rid himself of the pink marks. Nanami had noticed your lipstick this morning, had even complimented it, and he was clearly so wrapped up in your kisses that he hadn't thought to check for any evidence of them as he made his way out the door.
You're partially to blame, Nanami decides as his phone starts to vibrate with messages from you – no doubt having already seen the picture Gojo took. You could've, should've, warned him before he left the apartment looking like this.
He reluctantly opens his phone to half a dozen texts from you, ranging from telling him how funny it all was to how cute he looked with little kiss marks all over his face.
This is all your fault.
The three dots pop up, and then: You weren't complaining this morning!
He wasn't, that much he can't deny. Nanami would've stood there all morning accepting kisses if you'd let him.
My reputation is ruined.
It adds to your charm!
Nanami starts to remove the lipstick as best he can, but he knows it won't make much difference. Gojo will still tease him for it, and you'll still pepper his face with kisses every time you see him — lipstick or not.
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arthenaa · 4 months
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my love mine all mine— mizu x f! reader
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synopsis: marriage is nigh for someone your age and with society's expectations of you, how long will you have to keep waiting for him?
content: 18+ nsfw, mdni, angst w comfort, fluff, she/her pronouns for reader, he/she pronouns for mizu, patriarchal views on women, arranged marriage, jealousy, use of sex toys, idiots in love
a/n: part 2 of nocturne (interlude)!! this is for that anon who was on their finals week (ur req got deleted i h8 tumblr) and to those who requested for a part 2 !!! a reward for your hard work
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Your relationship with Mizu was ... interesting.
After what happened that day, your relationship progressed into a deeper sense of connection. He was attracted to you as much as you were attracted to him. A fact that made your fingers tingle with anticipation every time he came down to your village under the guise of getting more medicine.
Your father had no complaints as business is business and provided him with what he needed, although you could see the occassional side eyes that your father gives him every time he stays longer than he was supposed to be. It was a comical sight indeed.
Mizu helped you out as much as he could—whether it be mundane house chores or taxing ones that require hard labor or a change of locations, he was down to accompany you in any way.
While yes, his efforts of providing you aid sent a surge of butterflies down your stomach, what ultimately led you to hammering a nail in the coffin was the subtle touches that he gave you.
You knew he knew and he knew that he was being smug about it. While it didn't show on his face, his eyes told it all. Whether it be passing by and gently placing a hand on the small of your back to excuse himself out of your way as if there wasn't a 2-meter space to your right or the brushing of fingers when he lent you something or if he's being bold enough, especially when your father's not looking, outright pretending that there was a fabric stuck on your hairpin and so he leans in close to you only to place a kiss on your cheek—he always has to have some sort of skinship with you during the day. It often left you struggling for words or having a flushed face.
"Dear," Your father furrows his eyebrows as he eyes your flushed cheeks. You tense in his gaze as he glances at Mizu who appears calm as he takes a sip of his drink. The blue-eyed samurai had done it again—saw an opening and took it like he was meant for it. He fooled you into thinking that your hair was out of place and offered to fix it. Your father had stepped out to get the food and you had hoped that he stayed somehow so that you wouldn't have to deal with all this bullcrap. Mizu took the chance to grab your chin and place a kiss on your lips. Your father came back shortly and you haven't relaxed since. "You don't look alright. Do you want me to—?"
"I-It's fine, Dad!" You intercept, hands raised as you shake no. "The soup was just... hot."
You glance at Mizu who looks at you from the side of his eye. He smirks over his cup.
It was safe to say that Mizu was also mischievous by nature. Despite his usual calm and cool demeanor, you didn't expect the man before you to be quite playful when it came to just between the two of you.
You did all these things, said all those things, looked at each other with things unspoken of and you're quite sure that your relationship was susceptible to the one thing you're quite sure would lead to.
Marriage.
A want for some, a necessity for many. You'd think that in your years of living in this town that you'd find a partner suitable for marriage and you did! Just a little bit later than others.
You had expected that... Mizu would propose. After all, what comes after dating but marriage? Your father and mother did that, your aunts, uncles, cousins, hell, even your friends already got married albeit some of them out of their own will.
You dreamed of having a true love marriage. One that you could be yourself and never have to be ashamed of loving someone despite their stature in life. One that you could coexist with and that could never demean your existence as a woman. You knew those things were far fetched from reality but everyone wishes to dream right?
You had tried discreetly asking about it, curious as to why he barely mentions anything but he only casts you an unreadable look on his face then a soft smile.
He kissed the back of your hand with a gentle touch, softness mirroring that of a snowflake's descent.
"... I can't," He says. You're not sure as to why he sounded in pain, like something was troubling him but you knew better than to pry. "Not right now."
So you let it go.
It was times like this that you felt the other half of the relationship. Like there was still a barrier you couldn't decipher between you. Why he often looks secretive with your father at times or why he falls silent at the most random of moments. There was something you didn't know and it often aches you that you couldn't be able to understand him unless you knew the inner workings of his mind.
The first instance that brought up the onslaught of problems that would soon arise was the arrival of a proposal from the south. It came in the form of a letter, writings neatly imprinted on fine parchment—rolled with the delicacy that of a noble.
You could see your father's nervous glance as the messenger read what was sent to him. You could hear bits and pieces of the arrangement, hands wringing each other in anxiety as your eyes trained on your father's back. Mizu had not arrived that day and normally, you would fret over such things but your father casts a glance at you over his shoulder and suddenly everything seems to have changed its course.
"Father," You pant as you gather the ends of your kimono, trying to match the pace of your patriarch as he travels all over the house. He seems to not be at rest from the talk with the messenger—a perpetual stone-cold look plastered on his face. "Father!"
He enters the part of your house you haven't gone to in ages. Not because you despised it but because you were afraid that the spirit that once dwelled in its abode would arise and look at you with those same eyes that once held all the love and memories when you were but a wee girl. You hesitate at the entrance but decide to follow him through.
"Not right now, Y/N," He mumbles, agitated as he crouches over a chest and begins digging through the array of clothes. Your eyebrows furrow.
"What—What did he say?" You stammer as you stand to his left, eyes watching his every move as he frantically rummages through the fabrics. "Father, I have—I need to know."
Your father pauses, defeatedly slumping against the chest as his fingers tap against the wooden surface in thought. Silence ensues between the two of you and suddenly he turns to you with a sympathetic look on his face. Your blood runs cold.
"Lord Shimizu—" He pauses, catching himself stammering as he looked into those eyes that were fruition of shared dreams and a love he hasn't forgotten in ages. "He asked for your hand in marriage."
You stare at him with a shaky gaze, breath going in and out as you tried to process his response.
"Then-Then tell him no," Your eyebrows furrow. Your father falls silent at your words. "Tell him like you've always told the others."
"I can't, Y/N," He whispers, tone shifting into despair. Your shoulders are low as he lowers his head in shame.
"What do you mean you can't?"
"I can't," He emphasizes his words once more, eyes darting up to meet yours. "I have always tried to protect you but I can't this time."
Your face falls in desperation as you kneel down with him. You grab his hands in an attempt to convince him once more.
"Father, please, I can't—I don't even know him!" You plead as your grip on his callous fingers tightens. He looks at you with sadness. "Please Father, I'll do anything, just don't—"
"Y/N," He cuts you off with a stern voice. You fall silent as you wait for his response. "This man is from Kyoto. While the men here fear my stature as a medic, this man has access to professionals far greater than me. He doesn't regard me as someone important and if I dare raise my voice, we might as well be dead."
Your figure tenses at his words. He grabs your arms in an attempt to comfort you. In a last attempt to get him to decline the offer, you say the thoughts that have been at the forefront of your mind.
"I'm in love with Mizu," Your voice comes out in a whisper, eyes wide and tears welling up. He tenses at your confession, eyebrows furrowing at the implications.
"You—"
"Father, I love him." Your voice comes out in a desperate attempt to get him to see you. Your hands raise to touch his arm but he suddenly raises to his feet, taking a few steps back. Your heart speeds up at his reaction.
"Is that why he—?" Your father whispers out in thought. You're not sure if he was angry or disappointed, but you're quite sure that this was a bad thing. His face contorts into a look of anger as he continues to look at you with a hardened gaze. "When was this?"
"You told me you wanted me to have a true love marriage, Father—This is it!" You look up at him with a defiance so strong that it almost gives your father a whiplash of how similar it looked. He falters in his stance but remains rooted to his cause.
"I know but not to—!" He catches himself at the end of his sentence. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. He runs a hand through his face before sighing. "Not like this. Not to him. Not Mizu, Y/N."
Your eyebrows furrow in anger at his words. "You can't dictate what I feel for him."
There's a moment of silence as your father casts you an unreadable look on his face. You thought that your father might approve of Mizu. They after all started at the same steps and eventually grew to the path they were destined for, albeit in different fields. You're not quite sure as to what led to this defiance against your choice for marriage but it already has you intruiged.
"The messenger talks of praises of Lord Shimizu," Your father diverts the conversation. "I also hear that he is a general and part of the Emperor's Kingsguard. He is of noble stature and earned his keep. He is a man fitting of your deserving."
You fall silent at his words before finally rising to your height and dusting off your kimono. You glance at the chest, eyeing the white fabric that pops out of an array of multicolored ones. You turn back to your father.
"You raised me to not be a hypocrite," Your voice is stone cold. Your father flinches at the tone. "I expected you to not be one as well."
With that you left.
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The days were grueling.
Presents after presents were sent to your doorstep and while you wish that you could throw them all away, your father accepted them and kept them in the storage, still neatly wrapped for you to open.
Mizu had also arrived less and less over the past couple of days. He usually stays for more than an hour but now he leaves within the 30-minute mark. You felt like your time had been severed into bits and pieces after your fight with your father. You saw them talking, hushed in the receiving area. You expected your father to berate him for influencing his own daughter but their relationship remained civil. In fact, after his talk with your father was what prompted fewer visits and only coming for business.
He also became distant. Little to no skinship—sometimes even none at all. He talks to you in that cold tone of his and even grunts in annoyance when you try to bother him into coming with you to window shop in town.
You thought they were being unfair. That they could freely do things like this beyond your knowledge. Watch you crumble into a pit of despair at the concept of what you believed was the essence of true love. How naïve were you.
The final straw came when Mizu stayed a little bit longer than usual. He was swift with his purchase but remained seated at the tree located just outside your humble abode.
You approached him with soft steps, eyes trained on his head devoid of his kasa and the usual orange tinted glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome.
"Why are you like this?" Your voice cuts through the silence, direct and swift as a breeze passes through you. You see the familiar curl on his forehead, swishing back and forth before settling down.
Mizu does not reply for a few seconds before finally responding. "Like what?"
Your breath shakes at his nonchalance. "Like everything's back from the start."
Mizu pauses before turning his head to look at you standing behind him. There's a long duration of silence between you, eyes only locked with each other as the breeze fills in the void.
"Y/N," Your name escapes his lips like a prayer. You will yourself not to fold. "I didn't mean to—"
"Didn't mean to what?"
He rises up from his seat on the ground, grabbing his Kasa in the process. He examines the item, eyeing the material woven intricately to form its shape. You could tell that there were a lot of things in his mind. You could only wait until he decided to break down the walls he built up so high.
"I didn't mean it to be this way." He finally looks at you in the eye, those beautiful shades of blue hidden by a tint of orange. He pauses himself before a change of expression is plastered on his face. "I think it's best if we stop here."
Your breath hitches. "What?"
"I said what I said," He mutters in that neutral tone of his, devoid of emotion. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "I... I am on a journey and I have wishes to accomplish. I operate on circumstances that prove to be unlawful. It's best that you don't associate yourself with me. I was too distracted to begin with."
Distracted? Is that what he thought all of this was about? Your hands shake in anger as your eyes darted any sort of giveaway that he might just be joking with you. The world was pinning its blame on your shoulders and now you have to receive the consequences of its actions.
You purse your lips, stopping yourself from bawling then and there. You can't give him the satisfaction of seeing yourself in a mess. You refuse.
You turn around without responding, making hasty steps towards your home before halting once more. You turn to see him putting on his Kasa, eyes in a daze. Upon feeling your stare at him, he turns back towards you. His gaze falters.
"I'm sorry." He says.
You could never will out the words you should've said.
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Lord Shimizu came on the 3rd day of the week. He wasn't what you expected him to be.
Naturally, nobles of that standing would appear to be egocentric maniacs who dabbled and flaunted their wealth in various entertainment establishments. They act crass and speak crass as if their authority gives them the pass to be an asshole to everybody.
You thought to yourself, this man could have anybody that he wanted. He was a general, a skilled warrior, and a candidate for marriage to Japan's array of elegant and noble women. Why would he pick a humble medic's daughter all the way from Takayama?
Well, the answer finally came to you in flesh instead.
"L-Lord Shimizu!" Your father stammers over his words as a young man, your age enters the establishment. You take a step back towards the panel of the receiving area, slightly shielding yourself from the onslaught of 3-4 men entering the place. "I didn't expect you to be here."
The man does not respond yet, his eyes wander the interior of the establishment before finally settling on you. You flinch back at the intensity of his stare. Your father notices his attention on you before clearing his throat.
"Y/N?" He calls over, eyes meeting with yours as he beckons you over. You grumble under your breath before making hesitant steps to your father's side. "Ah yes, this is Y/N Gojo. My daughter. Y/N, this is Lord Shimizu Kaito."
Your eyes peer up at him underneath your lashes, trying to take a peek at his face. Shimizu flashes you a soft smile before bowing in greeting.
"Apologies for not having been able to meet before. The Emperor had requested me to attend to several cases in various cities. I hope that you and Y/N can forgive my tardy appearance." His voice is proper and elegant but you could only scoff at his words. Apparently, it was loud enough for him, your father, and the two other guards stationed behind him to hear. Your father elbows your waist.
"Apologies for my daughter," He sheepishly smiles. "She seems to have a... cold."
He eyes you with a strict look on his face which you turn to look away at. Just as you wished for all of this to be over, a wave of a hand catches your attention. You turn to look at Shimizu who softly smiles at you once more.
"I know this proposal is sudden but I hope you can give me a chance." He says, voice and tone genuine. You hesitantly purse your lips at his words. "I'll be staying around this time. I hope I can get to know you."
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Lord Shimizu stayed true to his word. The past few days were nothing but him trying to get to know you as an individual. He was nice, accommodating, and even dare say, a proper friend you could talk to.
He helped you out in chores, got you gifts, had tea with you, learned your ways, and walked with you in town. If you were the person you were before, you could've deemed this man the perfect match for you.
While you appreciated his eagerness in wanting to get to know you, you also can't help but be reminded of a certain blue-eyed boy every time he did something remotely similar. He talks of his travels, his blade, his peers, his interests, and you're brought back to the time Mizu let you hold his blade in your palms, brought you trinkets from his previous adventure, talked to you about his annoying apprentice, or that he prefers his soba to have a little bit more soup in ratio to his noodles.
Everything remind you of him.
Mizu had not visited in a while. You tried asking about him to your father if he ever came to get medicine but your father denies every question.
Sometimes you catch glimpses of a familiar Kasa roaming the town streets but is only mistaken by a wandering traveler. You're not too sure how long it would take for you to lose your wits about everything.
Sensing the troubling thoughts that plagued your mind, Shimizu offered for you both to take a stroll in town at night and shop for trinkets that you might find interesting to place in your room. He tried his best to keep you entertained, asking about your interests, making you laugh, all that stuff.
The question that prompted you at the start of his arrival began to urge you to put forth a topic for conversation. You wait for Shimizu to finish his words before finally dropping the question.
"Why me?" You ask, eyes gazing into his as he halts at the question. He blinks a couple of times, not able to process the question.
"What?"
"Why me, my lord?" You repeat, hands clutching your satchel. "I am but a mere servant's daughter. You could have anyone."
He licks his lips eyebrows furrowing. "But you are someone."
You raise your eyebrows, urging for him to continue. The man takes a breath, looking around before finally settling his eyes on you.
"I..." He starts off, words trailing as he gazes into your eyes. He continues. "I came here before. As a child."
Your eyes widen at the revelation.
"People talk of a man named Gojo-sensei who was able to remedy almost all illnesses. I was sickly and my condition was worsening." He responds. The city lanterns glow beautifully behind his figure, laughter of children, men, and women alike provides solace in the void of silence between you. "I remember coming in there and seeing you. Seeing your father then..."
He trailed off like he was remembering something painful.
"I remember a lady," His face softens at the thought. Your eyebrows furrow. "While your father did the aiding, this woman had brought me comfort. I was never really coddled and treated with such gentleness back home. I was an only child—a firstborn son. Being soft and dependent was out of the vocabulary."
You fall silent at his words as he looks down at his hands.
"She... she stayed by my side. Fed me, clothed me, made sure I was okay." He looked up at you. "I saw you sometimes, clinging to the ends of her kimono."
A chilling realization surges through your veins. Your silence prompts him to continue.
"I heard the news that she passed away years ago. I wasn't able to come due to my duties but I am indebted to her." He says. "Then, when I visited a month ago. I saw you—a spitting image."
Your breath shakes at the words. "You proposed to me because I looked like my mother?"
Shimizu looks down in shame, hands wringing in nervousness. "I thought that if I married you, I'd be able to receive that same love again."
You let out a breath of disbelief. While the topic of your mother wasn't something you detested talking about, her memory still was something you were quite hesitant to approach. You remember her sickly figure, her weak smile, the day your father broke. It was as if you threaded lightly along the edges of her carved path, wanting to preserve what was left of her image.
You take a step back, eyes looking at him in disbelief. Shimizu falters in his stance.
"I'm sorry, this isn't going to work." You softly mutter, shaking your head. Just as you take another step back, Shimizu panics and tries to grab your hand.
"Y/N, let me explain I—"
A swift change of air alerts you of a new presence and suddenly you feel deja vu. You turn your head to meet the familiar stance of a man you didn't expect to see again.
"I believe she said no." Mizu's voice is authoritative and deep, hand encasing Shimizu's wrist. The man furrows his eyebrows at Mizu who squints back a glare.
"Who are you?! Your jurisdiction?" Shimizu demands. He tries to pull his wrist away only to be met by a steel force. Mizu scoffs.
"I won't let you go until you promise to stay 10 meters away from her." Mizu threatens. Shimizu sweat drops, eyes glancing down at the hand gripping his wrist to the eyes shielded by tinted glasses. Your eyes dart back and forth between the two, afraid that a fight might brawl out and you're not in the mood to see blood spilled.
Shimizu was also a general and if word comes out that one of the Emperor's trusted military aides got injured by someone lower of his stature, your father will definitely pay for the consequences. You rush towards them and grab Mizu's hand to break them apart.
"Let him go," You say. Mizu turns to you with furrowed eyebrows. Your eyes soften, and you nod softly in reassurance. "Let him go, its okay.
Mizu hesitantly lets the man go and Shimizu stumbles back, holding his wrist. Mizu turns to you in concern, hand grabbing your arm as he examines you. "Are you alright?"
You nod, flustered by his attention. "I'm fine."
Feeling Shimizu's stare on you, you look back at the man to see hurt and a realization spread across his face. Your gaze falters.
He clears his throat and fixes his stance. "Apologies, Y/N. It seems that I have miscalculated my approaches. Forgive me for my behavior."
"It's alright, my lord," You respond. Mizu stands menacingly beside you, eyes trained on his figure. Shimizu glances at him and then at you. He smiles.
"It was nice being your friend," He says. He bows as respect. You curtsy back, albeit shaky. "I'll leave as requested. I wish you luck."
He leaves without turning back. You watch as he gets lost in the crowd, the breeze gently swinging your clothes back and forth. The lanterns dazzle the streets—performing a pretense of joy. You take a breath before finally facing the last of your problems.
Mizu stands there, eyes already looking at you with an unreadable look on his face. Your eyes soften.
"What are you doing here?" You mumble, lacking the energy to even be angry. Mizu shifts in his stance.
"I came back." He answers vaguely.
"For what?"
There a pause of silence before he moves to remove his Kasa. You can see his face clearly now, albeit those beautiful eyes of his still covered by his glasses.
"For you." He says. He gulps as if nervous and your eyes widen at his confession.
"But I thought you said—"
"I was a coward," He says. He heaves a breath. "I have loved before and shown them everything and yet I have ruined them. I was afraid that I might—that I might ruin you with what I am."
You fall silent at his words. You were confused, you had already seen what others claim to be the worst of him—in fact, that was what you loved most about his features. Eyes that seem to hold the waters—a depiction of nature. Just as he is about to continue, cheers erupt from the central town, you flinch as the others begin to gather to watch the amusement happening. Mizu, sensing your uneasiness, pulls you towards a nearby alley—dark and hidden from the public eye. He places you against the wall, eyes watching for passersby that might lurk in while your eyes are trained on his face.
You watch with admiration as his eyebrows furrow in their usual curl, those eyes that squint into a glare, chapped lips, and the glasses that begin to slowly fall down the bridge of his nose. Unable to resist the urge, you give in.
"Coast is—"
Mizu's eyes widen at the feeling of your lips against his. You cup his cheeks, pulling him down as you encase your arms over his neck. Mizu wastes no time in reciprocating the kiss. He kisses back with the same fervor, hand dropping his Kasa in favor of encasing your waist as he pulls you towards his figure. You whine as you feel his tongue intertwine with yours.
After a few pecks and kisses, you both finally pull away. There's a hushed silence of panting as Mizu places his forehead against yours.
"I am not being truthful," Mizu whispers, breath hitting your lips. "But I want to try. With you."
You smile, hands cupping his cheeks as you rub your thumbs across the surface of his skin.
"I want you as you are," You reassure him. "No matter the flaw, no matter what you tell me. I'll be here with you."
Mizu lowers his head and drops it to burrow against your neck. He hugs you close as bells and instruments begin playing. He pulls back softly before facing you with vulnerability.
"I..." He starts off. "I am not what you think I am."
You tilt your head in confusion as you encase his hands in yours. Your thumbs run over the scar that you've bandaged from before.
"I'm not a... a man." Mizu finally reveals. You pause, eyes blinking as you watch his reaction for any sort of context. Mizu purses his lips before pulling his glasses away, tucking in the side of his clothing before reaching up to pull at his top knot. You watch as his hair—no, her hair flows to her shoulders and then suddenly everything makes sense.
Mizu's breath shakes at your silence. "I-I cannot give you what you want—"
She falls silent as you lean forward to take notice of her features. The flush that adorns her cheeks and the eyes that entranced you from the start. A smile bursts from your lips.
"You're just as I dreamed of," You whisper in awe. Your arms make their way to wrap around her neck as you press yourself close to her. Mizu's face flushes at your words.
Your eyes trace the edges of her features, face contorted in a soft expression. There's a moment of silence before you finally continue. "My father wanted me to have a true love marriage. All my life, the idea of falling in love has always been my dream as a child."
Mizu blinks softly at your words, listening to your every thought.
"And now that I have it, I can understand why my father wanted me to do so," You smile, leaning your forehead against hers. "Marry me, Mizu. I just want to be yours."
The blue-eyed girl erupts into a smile, leaning forward and capturing your lips in hers. You reciprocate with the same intensity, fingers burying in her raven locks. Mizu then pulls away.
"I'll always say yes to you."
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"Do we really have to do this?"
Mizu eyes your figure seated on the tatami, eyes peering up at her as she stands in front of you. You giggle at her hesitance.
"Of course!" You grin. "Consummation between man and wife is a must tradition after marriage—well in our case, wife and wife."
Mizu rolls her eyes as she sits down in front of you. She props her knee up and places her arm on top of it. She grabs the cup of tea perched on the small table beside her and takes a sip. "Consummation is done with the idea of children, love. I'm sure you're well aware of that."
You pout before an idea arises in your mind. You lean forward, going on your knees as you crawl towards her. Mizu pauses mid-sip as she watches you with careful eyes. You grab her cup, placing it down on the table as she continues to watch your every move. You settle on her lap, the slit of your kimono revealing your thighs. Mizu's breath shakes.
You take her glasses off and place them on the table before finally focusing on her, arms propped on her shoulders. You feel her hands cup your hips as you stare down at her with a smile.
"What?" You taunt. "You don't wanna fuck me?"
Mizu pauses, eyes widening before she lets out a groan and lowers her head to your clavicle. You giggle as she takes a few moments to calm herself down. Finally, pulling away to face you, Mizu looks at you with her blue eyes clouded with lust.
"You are one dangerous lady, know that?" Mizu leans forward. You grin as you rub your nose against hers.
"Mhm," You say. "My wife told me so."
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"Ah fuck! Fuck!" You whimper as you grab the sheets behind you, trying to find some sort of stability from the onslaught of ministrations Mizu's giving you. "W-Wait—Mizu-Wai—Ngh!"
You're afraid that the toy one of your close friends gave you as a congratulations gift to your marriage would be too crass for your night with Mizu. You only brought it to tease her after all. You just didn't expect how much she'd be turned on by it.
"Where are you going?" Mizu's voice is deep and taunting as she watches you claw at the sheets, trying to get away from the intense pleasure. She grabs your waist and pulls you back down towards her, folding your legs to your chest. "You wanted this, why are you backing out, hm? You wanted to consummate so here we are."
She watches as the thick girth and length of her strap pushes in and out—coated with your essence. The noises from it are slick and noisy, causing you to flush in embarrassment. God fucking damn.
"So fucking pretty, aren't ya?" Mizu chuckles as she pushes her hips. She lets out a moan, feeling the other end of the dildo pushing deep with her. You whimper as Mizu presses deep, the tip of her cock bumping against that spot of yours. "So so pretty for me, aren't you momma?"
You shiver at the nickname, hands coming down to grab Mizu's lean arms—its muscle flexing as she speeds up her thrusts, making sure that it's the right spot.
"You've been adamant about this all morning. Especially, after the wedding." Mizu growls, slamming her hips against yours. "You want my kids that bad?"
You're too lost in the pleasure, moans, and garbles of her name only coming out of your mouth. Mizu smiles, hair falling down her shoulders and framing her face as she props herself up on top of you.
"If you want it so bad, I'll give it to you," Mizu leans down to bury her face on your neck, sucking a few marks as she begins to speed up her thrusts.
"Oh! Oh!" You whine as the spot inside of you becomes more sensitive with each bump. Mizu pays no mind to your sounds, reveling in the way your nails rake through her back. She smirks against your skin, licking down until she encases your nipple within her mouth. You moan at the feeling, hands reach up to bury itself in her raven locks.
"I'm close! I-I—please!" You plead as her constant torture of your cunt begins to teeter at the edge. Mizu pants heavily as she places a soft kiss behind your ear.
"I am too." Her breath shakes as her hips falter. It doesn't take long before you climax, body arching and shivering from the intensity of the pleasure. Tears begin streaming down your face as you twitch with each thrust she gives you. She smiles placing a soft kiss on your lips. "Good girl."
Mizu follows shortly behind, coming in grunts and low moans before slumping down against you. There's a moment of reprieve before Mizu props herself up once more to take a look at your afterglow.
You smile up at her, hand coming up to brush her hair over her ear. Mizu leans against your touch.
"I love you." You mumble softly. Mizu gazes into your eyes with a love so true that it warms your very being.
"I love you too."
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a/n: mwehheheheheeh hope yall enjoyed that <3 not proofread will do it later mwehe
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dcxdpdabbles · 1 month
Text
DC xDP fanfic idea: One hell of a good Bellhop
Danny and Jazz Fenton get a chance of a lifetime after a whirlwind of dimension displacement. It's hard to explain how it happened. One minute, they were visiting Clockwork, having tea with their surrogate grandfather, and the next, they were being attacked by what appeared to be woolly mammoths standing on two legs and carrying weapons.
Clockwork had dispatch to take them head on- timeline pests he called them- but in the confusion Danny and Jazz were taken by suprised, stuffed into sacks and thrown through a whirlpool turned portal that spit them out in a new world.
They tried to call Clockwork for help, but it was as if though the Ghost Zone was blocked by some power. Danny at least still had his ghost powers and Jazz was equipped with the standard Fenton weapons on her person, but that wasn't much help when between the two of them they had sixty dollars and thirty four cents to their names.
Drivers' invalid licenses, phones that weren't connected to any service, and maybe worse of all, no actual identity to speak of.
The Fentons simply didn't exist in this world. Not even their four fathers. The two were at a loss on what to do- for about three months. Then they put their Fenton intelligence to use and hacked into a hotel.
It was a run-down place in the heart of downtown Gotham- the place that the portal shot them to was Metropolis. Still, people paid way too much attention to homeless minors there, so they had to move after dodging a weird underwear guy who kept trying to capture Danny. Apparently, he thought Danny was a "Kryptonian Clone". Fruitloop.
Jazz thought they were the only guests in the Hotel, which is why the owner was so happy to host them for weeks instead of a few days. He was a sweet old man named Charles who was far too old to work but couldn't afford the staff, so he did everything himself.
Jazz felt an awful pity seeing him sit at his counter, staring hopefully at the door for any new guests whenever she returned from her work. It was heartbreaking to see Charles' eyes dim whenever the closing time came, and once again, no one stopped by. At this point, he kept the hotel open in a sad, broken dream.
Where did she work? Danny didn't know, but Jazz made him swear she would handle their expenses. She kept a tight lip on her day, and since Danny had no documentation to go to school with, he found himself helping Charles with maintenance.
He has no license to do anything, but Danny has been installing electricity, water pipes, and anything in between since he was young. FentonWorks always needed something fixed, after all.
He even went out and "borrowed" some paint cans to give the old place a little touch-up. Charles' eyes watered when he saw.
"My wife and I meet at this hotel, you know," Charles tells him one day as Danny patches up some old bricks. He runs to find the old man, gently running his hand along the fireplace. A picture of two young people dancing in the Hotel Lobby—back when it was new and shiny—is hanging right over it. It's easy to see it's Charles and his late wife, Sally.
"Of course, that was back in the forties—a few years after the war and before Gotham was crime-infested. We always wanted to run this place together. We worked two jobs, and when we finally had enough, we bought it from the old owners when they announced they were closing down. We were so happy and ran it together for a year, but then she got sick. Really sick. I was told to give up on the Hotel when I lost her. No one saw a reason when it was obviously failing, but it's the last thing I have of her, you know?"
Danny's lips wobble. He thinks back to hours and hours of tracing the Fenton Works logo on all his new clothes. It looks stupid but, gosh its the last thing he has of his parents since they been sepreated too.
"Yeah" His voice catches "Yeah I know. Did you two ever have children?"
Charles shakes his head. "Salley couldn't have kids, and no matter how many times we applied, we were never approved for adoption. Then we were too old."
"I'm sorry Charles"
"That's alright, my boy." The man's smile is just as heartbreaking and sad as it is soft. "It's something I accepted long ago. "
Danny decided then and there that he would save this hotel if it was the last thing he did. Danny wasn't aware that his Ghost Powers launched onto that oath and sent out a flair, turning Gotham's Fog Lodge into his new haunt.
This meant that overnight, Danny's haunt was carefully bettering itself as a reflection of Danny's happiness. It made it look brand new among all the old and falling apart scenery.
No one knew why or how, but it looked just as Charles remembered it in the glory days.
Danny decided they couldn't compete with large chain hotels, so he made it an experience instead. He did Era events using his experience with the different parts of the Ghost Zone as references.
Soon Gotham was hearing of the Victorian Era Ball—a chance to dress up and dance the old ways with antique clothing of that period.
But Danny didn't stop there.
Disco parties. Nineties garage bands. Murder mysteries nights from the roaring twenties. Even the props were so realistic that people swore they stepped into the time from when arriving for their events.
People started calling, hoping to book in advance, and Charles burst into tears the first night Danny told them they ran out of rooms.
Since it was Danny's haunt, he could complete all the work by himself, having the hotel help him along the way. No one knew why or how, but somehow it was always clean, food was always prepared whenever someone needed it, and bags would be up into their rooms without actually seeing the Bellhop pass getting them at the door.
Not a single staff member in sight, either.
Charles suspected Danny was meta, and he was using his powers to be one hell of a good host. Everyone else thought the place was haunted by staff made entirly of ghosts, and that somehow made it more appealing.
Jazz's new boss thought it a little too good to be accurate, but he was so good at keeping records and organizing that he gave her the benefit of the doubt. After all, she did mention she had a meta brother she was desperately trying to protect.
If there was one thing Red Hood knew, it was that desperate people turned to crime the most. If he could keep someone like Jazz Fenton away from working with the nutjobs of Gotham, he would have been doing one thing better for the city.
As far as Jazz was aware, she was only an assistant/secretary to an obvious front masquerading as an insurance company, and if she pretended not to notice all the crime, she could feed Danny and help Charles.
Charles, for his part, never said it, but he thinks if he and Sally had been able to have grandchildren, they would have been exactly like Jazz and Danny.
He may have let it be implied at one point, and the misunderstanding spreads that he is their grandfather. None of the three make haste to correct it.
Gotham Fog Lodge starts to gain traction around the same time it captures the eye of one very intrigued billionaire. Bruce Wayne keeps an eye on the business but decided to let Jason make the call since the grandduaghter's owner works for him. '
Surely, he would step in if something malicious was going on.
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catxfisher · 5 months
Text
Just the tip
One Shots about our favorite Adult trio and Y/N in different "Just the tip" scenarios.
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Illumi Zoldyck
Her fingers dug into the soft black T-shirt as she gently pushed her hips over his lap. She tried to look into his dark eyes while he tried to avoid her gaze. He knew he couldn't say no when he looked into her beautiful, large eyes. "Please Illumi, just the tip, please..." Damn, now he had looked up. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and the first tears were already welling up in her eyes. She was absolutely enchanting in his eyes. And it was difficult for him to deny her a wish. But they had already talked about it and had come to the conclusion that it just wasn't quite right yet. She wanted to pursue her job as a Hunter for a few more years and, above all, consolidate her relatively new relationship with him before she started planning a family. And it was universally known that "just the tip" never remained "just the tip". And her opinion on the whole child topic as well as the fact that they had run out of condoms and were not using any other form of contraception, was making his life really difficult right now.
But what was he supposed to do when she was sitting in his lap and literally begged him to give her "just the tip"? She was just so damn horny and he found it so hard to stand firm. And maybe he just rolled his eyes and grumbled something quietly to himself that sounded a lot like "needy brat". But deep down he just wanted to throw all resistance overboard, because for him there was no better idea than to finally pump her full until her belly was round and her breasts were heavy and full of milk. He just wanted to give free rein to his breeding kink, which never was allowed to see the light of day until now. His otherwise emotionless dark eyes now seemed almost to blaze as they fell on her full lips, which were slightly parted and from which soft gasps escaped while she was still grinding against him. Faster than she had thought possible, he had rolled her over until her back was pressed against the soft sheets and he was on top of her. He slipped his hand under the old T-shirt she used to sleep in and found two things. Firstly, no underwear and secondly: "You're so wet, love." It was impossible for her not to moan softly as his fingers slid between her pussy lips and teased her lightly. "Want my cock that bad?" She nodded frantically and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched him sliding his jogging bottoms halfway down his thighs, freeing his cock. She couldn't stop her mouth from watering when she finally got to see it. Long and grithy with a slight curve to reach each of her spots perfectly. Drops of pre had formed at his tip, which was already slightly reddened. He pushed her thighs apart to create more space between her legs for himself and also pushed up the t-shirt to finally get a glimpse of what would eventually be his personal downfall. His long, slender fingers travelled back up her thigh to her centre to make sure she was ready for him. But she needed no further preparation. She was so wet that he could see her juices wetting not only the inside of her thighs, but also the bed sheets beneath her. His fingertips brought whimpers to her lips, begging again for more. And he gave her exactly what she wanted from him. The tip of his cock, swollen and reddened and leaking, rubbed against her entrance while he played with her clit. He threw his head back and couldn't suppress the deep humming in his chest. Meanwhile, she moaned loudly and tried to push herself away from the bed and get closer to him to finally have him where she longed for him. His hand gripped her hip and held her in place so that she couldn't move any further. "Stay still," he mumbled softly. But he only achieved the opposite. She braced herself against his hand and tried to push him away so that he would finally come closer.
"So impatient, love." His gaze was fixed on her expression. The way her lower lip was pushed forward because he hadn't yet given her what she wanted. The single tear that ran down her cheek. He didn't even realise that she had wrapped her long legs around his hips and crossed them at her ankles. His cock slid deeper into her and the soft exclamation of his name was like music to his ears. He thrusts into her gently and listened to the soft sounds that escaped her. She was so needy today that the knowledge that only he could provide her with this kind of satisfaction made him feel warm inside. "What me to fuck you that bad love?" he asked. A nod and a few gasping breaths were all she could say in reply. And who was he to deny her that wish. A cry escaped her as he sank completely inside her with one hard thrust. He was so incredibly deep that she felt him push against her cervix. He found a hard and fast rhythm with which he buried himself in her again and again. He watched as her eyes rolled back and her hands eached around until they found his shoulders and grabbed onto them to find some sort of support and brace herself for his pace. He felt her literally suck him in, her warm walls gripping him and making it difficult for him to pull back.
It was unrestrained. Just reduced to lust and her urges. Messy. Without a condom. She could see it in his eyes, just as he could see it in hers. There was no coming back from this. For both of them, there was no better feeling than this. Without a barrier, skin on skin. He knew that he would never again be able to live without letting his bare cock slide in and out of her warm cunt raw. As quickly as they had brought up "just the tip", they had also thrown it out the window. Forgotten as soon as he fucked her on purpose. Buring his shaft inside of her right down to the hilt. All caution was lost in their lust and need to feel each other and listen to his name slide over her lips again and again like a mantra as her pussy pulsed around him and seemed to literally suck him in. He watched as her back lifted off the bed and her body shook as her orgasm swept over her. "Fuck, shit...!" Illumi closed his eyes as he felt her almost milking him and he tried to penetrate her as deeply as he could. He felt the distinct tugging in his stomach and heard the roaring in his ears that showed him that he was ready too.
The thought of pulling out kept coming back to him and he was determined to maintain at least some semblance of control. Because at least one of them had to remain rational and think about how they had come to an agreement. But no matter how good the arguments were to pull out, it couldn't beat the feeling of finally fucking her without protection. Her lewd noises grew louder and louder as the grip on her hips tightened and the rhythm of his hips became uneven, turning her first orgasm into a second. A hiss escaped him as he tried to fight the stuttering of his hips and pull out. But her pussy just felt too good and while inside him his breeding kink was still fighting against the good reasons of pulling out, she finally made the decision for him. The grip of her legs tightened, not letting him back off, keeping him exactly where her lust-fuelled brain wanted him: Between her legs and deep inside of her. A long drawn-out "fuck" escaped him and echoed through the room while he could no longer prevent his own orgasm from overtaking him and allowing his sperm to flood her pussy.
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Hisoka Morow
She had agreed to accompany him to the event. Her job was just to look nice next to him, smile nicely and make small talk. And she totally regretted going along with it. There were a lot of older gentlemen at this event, who lost interest in her after a few lecherous glances and brief exchanges of phrases as soon as they realised she was here with the crazy magician. She couldn't blame them, really. She could feel the fear spreading through the men as soon as they realised. And it was justified, Hisoka was dangerous. Still, she was disappointed. Without anyone to talk to, she was bored to death. She wasn't close to the few people present who were her age and not that afraid of Hisoka. She had discovered members of the Phantom Troupe and Illumi too. But she didn't have a point of contact to engage them in conversation and they were more interested in talking to Hisoka and didn't give her more than a few quick glances. So she sat next to Hisoka and was bored.
She tried to occupy herself for a while by trying to recognise patterns in the tablecloth in front of her or by counting the tiles on the floor. But she didn't last long before her eyes wandered around the crowded room again, longing for something to do. Hisoka didn't pay any attention to her either. He was far too engrossed in the conversation with Chrollo and Illumi, who had the seats opposite them at the table. She knew that she had to do something if she didn't want to be stuck here. And she knew a method that would definitely help her to lure Hisoka away from this event and get him home. And to get her plan rolling, she first took a quick trip to the toilet, only to return to her seat next to Hisoka just a few minutes later.
She slid her hand under the table onto Hisoka's thigh. She felt the muscles under her fingers tense up for a moment, only to relax again shortly afterwards when he realised that she was merely drawing small, random shapes on his thigh. With her fingertips, she felt the muscle strands of his leg, which were still rock hard even though he was sitting completely relaxed next to her. Her fingers travelled upwards from his knee before pausing halfway up and then finding their way to the inside of his leg. She let her fingertips circle there too before placing her entire palm on his leg. With gentle pressure, she caressed his thigh before venturing further and further up. Her fingertips brushed against his crotch and after a short wait, she dared to slide her hand further until it covered him completely. She could see Hisoka watching her out of the corner of his eye, but without interrupting the conversation with the other two men. She gave him a slight smile that spread into a grin as he sank further into the chair, spreading his legs wider to give her more room. Her hand quickly found a comfortable position as she slid it over his crotch again and again, feeling him slowly harden beneath her. Only a short time later, her fingers slid a little further up until she found the button and zip of his trousers and undid both.
Her hand slipped under the fabric. Now only separated from him by his boxer shorts. As she continued to massage him, she could see him swallowing hard and his breathing was a little faster than usual. If you weren't paying close attention, you wouldn't notice, but she had a feeling for him. She heard the slight excitement in his tone as he spoke to the other two because his words came out a little more stretched. He was telling them about a fight he had coming up in the arena and she chose that moment to slip her fingers under the elasticated waistband of his boxers and finally feel his hot and hard cock for real. Her fingers slid over the soft head, catching the drop of pre that had formed and rubbing him in agonisingly slow strokes. She could feel it pulsating as she continued to massage him. She knew him well enough by now to know that it wouldn't be long before he came into his boxer shorts. And probably to avoid that, Hisoka's own hand slid under the table and grabbed her wrist to pull her away. She allowed it, but before he had a chance to straighten his clothes back under the table, she placed her hand over his and guided it to her own thigh. Just a moment later, she had navigated his hand even further until his fingers were under her dress. The cool satin fabric was a stark contrast to her naked and hot centre. She had taken off her panties in the bathroom so that he now met her pussy lips, wet with her own juices. She bit the inside of her cheek to stifle the slight moan that escaped her as his fingertips finally made their way to her entrance. She gripped his wrist tightly and thrust her hips forward as she pushed his hand towards her centre until two of his fingers finally entered her. She couldn't stop her soft walls from tensing and pulsing as she finally felt something of him inside her. She pushed her hips towards him in small circular movements, holding his hand until she had the feeling that he wasn't going to pull away. Only then did she push her own hand back into his boxer shorts and grasped his cock as tightly as her pussy was gripping his fingers.
Faster than she could react, Hisoka had stood up, pulled her to her feet and positioned her in front of him. At the same time, he turned to the two men, who looked at the couple in surprise: "You'll excuse us for a moment, we have to go and say hello to someone." Before the others had a chance to reply, Hisoka had already pushed her out of the hall in front of him and only stopped at a door down the corridor. He yanked the door open, pushed her inside and then closed the door again behind him. She didn't even have time to look at the room before he had turned her around and pinned her against the door. "Fuck Pet, be good and let me come," he murmured softly as he pressed his lips to the sensitive spot under her ear. She couldn't suppress the smile that spread across her face as she thrusts her hips towards him. "I didn't stop you, did I? You could have come then and there at the table." She could sense that he was getting really desperate, chasing towards his orgasm the way he was grinding against her thigh. "Not in my boxers, you know what I want" he was still panting against her ear. His breathing quickened by now. "How could I, you'll have to tell me Hisoka." Her hand slid between their two bodies, freeing him from the last piece of disturbing fabric before her fingers closed around him again. "I need your pussy, darling. Need to feel you around me, want to pump you full so the old peeping geezers here know you're mine." With slow movements, her thumb circled his slit, playing with the soft head before she pumped him again in slow movements. She savoured his throbbing, the slight desperation she could hear in his voice. "Why should I let you? You ignored me the whole evening and I was bored. You promised me a nice evening and you didn't deliver. So do you really think you deserve my pussy?" Soft moans reached her ears as he thrust his hips towards her to at least urge her to move faster. But she took her time. They both knew very well that he could actually take what he wanted, as he was much stronger than she was. But she had him wrapped around her little finger and made him do what she wanted. "Just the tip Y/N. Please, just the tip, that's all I want." He pressed light kisses on her neck and her collarbone. His warm breath stroked her skin as he gasped "Please" over and over again. She pushed him away from her to turn her back to him. Her fingers dug into the soft fabric of her dress as she pulled her skirt up so that it billowed around her hips. She spread her legs and leaned forward to finally give him a glimpse of her pussy. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she caught his dilated pupils and flushed cheeks. "Okay, just the tip and then at home you'll fuck me properly." She had barely finished the sentence before he had bridged the distance between them and penetrated her with the thick head of his cock. "Anything you want darling," he gasped as the tightness of her pussy mesmerized him and he poured himself inside her.
She had won.
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Chrollo Lucilfer
He knew he had to have her the first time he laid eyes on her.
That day, he had sneaked through the dark alley, looking for someone connected to his next coup. She had walked past him in her white dress with a pretty smile on her face. She was so radiantly beautiful, like a bright light in his darkness. And he couldn't get her out of his head. So he did what he did best. Gathered information and hunted her down to make her his. And so he met her again. He had found out that she was a guest at a charity event organized by one of York New's wealthiest persons.
He had arrived before her, sat down at the bar and watched her descend the stairs. Her hair was artfully tied up and the red dress she was wearing made her shine. He wasn't the only one who had noticed her arrival. Both men and women around him eyed the beautiful young woman and he could hear the murmuring and whispering that went through the crowd. When she made her way to the bar after a while and a few rounds of small talk, he saw his chance. He immediately engaged her in conversation, which was not difficult for him. He was charming and had been told many times before that he had a way with his words. And Y/N was glad that someone had finally approached her who wanted to have a conversation with her that went beyond mere small talk and the exchange of meaningless phrases. Someone who wasn't just interested in her money. Oh, if only she knew what he really wanted from her... She was lively and talkative. And the more champagne glasses he handed her, the more trusting she became. He could probably have asked her for all the login details to her bank accounts and she would have given them to him. Instead, he listened to her as she confided in him about her life and suffering. Among other things, she told him about the upcoming wedding next week. That it had been planned by her parents and that she had only seen her future husband twice so far. That she was very much looking forward to her married life because she wanted to fulfill her duties as a daughter and wife to be conscientiously. She was a good girl who always followed the rules and wanted to make her family happy. Chrollo sensed that the alcohol was slowly making its effect. So he seized the opportunity. "Let's find a quieter room, love, then we can talk better," he suggested as she sipped her champagne. Without thinking twice, she nodded: "Yes, it's really very noisy here." He could hardly believe his luck at how trusting she was. He offered her his arm she smiled and as soon as she hooked her arm around his, he led her out of the ballroom and into one of the small guest rooms at the other end of the corridor.
While he closed the door behind them and locked it inconspicuously, she made herself comfortable on the bed. The alcohol had made her cheeks rosy and her beautiful eyes had become slightly glassy. The radiant smile still adorned her face as she waited for him to finally take a seat next to her on the bed. Slowly, and with a deliberate steps, he closed the distance. The mattress gave way slightly beneath them as he sat down. He leaned his back into the soft pillows and made himself comfortable. The soft laughter that rang out next to him sounded like the most beautiful melody to him. "Tell me more, love," he asked her. And so she made herself comfortable next to him and talked about her upbringing, her childhood and her pets, and then again about the man she was going to marry next week. As she talked, Chrollo listened attentively and casually let his hand wander over her thigh. She only paused her story for a moment before blessing him with her radiant smile again. The way she spoke so passionately, using her hands to paint the picture for Chrollo and how relaxed she sat by his side, made his heart lose its rhythm and it skipped a beat for a moment before he could regain his composure. "I'd like a nice house, it doesn't have to be big but cozy with a little garden where I can grow some vegetables. And then maybe..." She couldn't finish the sentence. Because in a split second he had sat up and turned towards her, then he had already pressed his lips to hers.
Her eyes widened in surprise and she slid her hands between their bodies until she could rest them on his chest. She tried to push him away, but he was stronger than her and didn't give in. But when he held her face with both hands and gently caressed the soft skin of her cheek, she no longer wanted to push him away. She found herself enjoying the gentle kiss. She thought he was a nice and attentive man. And she also found herself wishing that he was the man she would marry. She would like to live with him by her side. A happy life. Images of a shared house with a garden flitted before her inner eye. Maybe a dog, definitely three children. She hesitantly returned his kiss, opening her mouth willingly when the tip of his tongue tapped against her lower lip. She allowed his hands to wander down from her face, his lips following them until they paused at a point just below her earlobe. A shiver ran through her as he pulled the soft skin between his lips. She felt like she was getting goose bumps. She wanted to look, but her body no longer seemed to obey her. Instead, she tilted her head, giving him more space to caress her neck.
She allowed his hand to close around her breast and when he began to knead it lightly, she leaned towards him eagerly. It felt so good. No one had ever touched her like this before and she liked the slight tingling sensation that ran through her body. She liked it so much that she could become addicted and above all didn't want him to stop. So she leaned towards him, pressing herself against him until he pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulders and the soft fabric billowed around her hips. He pushed her into the pillows and climbed over her until his hips found their place between her legs. His mouth never left her body, but he moved lower. So deep that he could suck her nipple between his lips. She knew she was supposed to stop him. Knew she shouldn't be doing this. She wanted to save herself up for the husband she would have next week. But it just felt too good. And when he bit down lightly, she could no longer suppress the moan of his name. He smiled at her as he let go of her breast and shortly afterwards went for the other nipple. Heat gathered in her belly and when he took one hand to gently knead the free breast, her lower body twitched. Her abdomen collided with him and she felt a hardness between his legs that hit that one spot perfectly, sending lightning bolts through her body. She moaned his name again and clung to him. She didn't know if she was trying to push him away or if she was pulling him even closer. All she knew was that she didn't know how this all worked, but it felt too good to stop him. Besides, she wasn't even married yet, she tried to justify the behavior to herself.
She felt his hips pick up her pace, rutting against her. His lips let go of her breast, releasing her nipple with a soft pop. He straightened up on his knees and looked at the young woman beneath him. Her hair had begun to come loose and her hands had moved to her breasts to cover them. She was even more beautiful in his eyes. He knew that the sight was etched in his mind forever. His fingers closed around the hem of her dress, pulling at it, and she helped him take it off by lifting her hips. She was now lying there in just her panties, while he was still fully clothed. He seemed to be able to tell from her face that this bothered her a little and added to her insecurity. So he slowly undid button after button of his shirt until he let it slide off his shoulders and onto the floor. Then his fingers slid down his muscular torso until he came to a stop at his belt. She watched as he undid it and then slipped out of his pants. He stood in front of her in just his boxer shorts, his bulge prominent. He was long and thick, she could tell from the outline. He seemed like calmness personified as he stood there smiling at her.
She knew what that meant. That he wanted to have sex with her. And as much as she liked that tingle inside her, she knew it was something that couldn't happen. She couldn't let herself be tainted like that. She wanted to go into marriage as a virgin, the way girls like her should. Untainted and pure. He could see worry darkening her eyes. Her doubts were clearly written on her face. She sat up, scrutinizing the wicked grin on his face. "Chrollo, you know we can't do this. We can't go all the way." Her voice small as she looked at him through her lashes. She now had her arms crossed in front of her chest and looked so incredibly vulnerable. The innocence she radiated made his cock throb with excitement. "Don't worry, love. That's not what I want" he murmured softly as he climbed back into bed and over her. "There's another option." Her eyebrows drew together, irritation spreading across her face. "Huh?" He knew she didn't know any better. That she would believe what he would tell her next. "Yeah, if I just put the tip in, then it doesn't count," he whispered softly in her ear as he lavished kisses on her neck. Sucking the sensitive skin between his lips again. "It doesn't count?" she asked, still confused. She'd never heard of it before, but she hadn't heard much on the subject in general and had no idea what the options and possibilities were. "Exactly," he confirmed, reaching for the elastic of her panties and sliding them down her legs. She was now completely exposed in front of him. And as he looked at her, she came to the conclusion that he was probably right. He knew his way around better than she did. And he was a nice man, she had no reason not to believe him. "But it'll only be the tip, right?" She wanted him to confirm it again. That he recognized how important it was for her to maintain this status of untouchedness. He looked her firmly in the eyes and smiled at her: "I promise you, my love." After she nodded once more, she watched him take off his boxers. His hard cock slapped against his stomach. Undressed like this, he seemed even bigger. But he was pretty, she hadn't expected that. The head was slightly pink and she could see a drop of liquid glistening at its tip in the light of the room. His fingers slid up her thighs until he touched her pussy lips and felt the wetness that had formed between her legs. Then he moved even higher, massaging her clit and eliciting a moan from her. It felt so incredibly good.
He slid closer to her and then gripped the base of his cock. He navigated it between her legs and lips. He let it slide up and down a few times until it was thoroughly covered with her wetness. She couldn't suppress the string of moans that escaped her. She couldn't understand how it could feel so good when he wasn't even inside her yet and had really started. In the next moment, his tip penetrated her, was practically sucked in by her. A deep moan escaped him as he held the position, just the tip. If just one of them moved a little, he would slide out again. She had thrown her head back and her eyes were closed. Her lips were parted as soft sighs escaped her. "Just the tip Chrollo" she managed to gasp. He began to slide the tip in and out and it felt incredible. But he knew he couldn't leave it at that. She felt too good. He had to know what it was like when she completely enveloped him. He buried his head against her neck, kissing and licking the soft skin there. He knew he had to be clever about it. He had to make sure that she was completely overwhelmed by her lust. So his hand reached between them and he began to massage her clit. Meanwhile, he kept pushing in and out and with each thrust, he went a little deeper. It was barely noticeable, so slow that she only felt it when he was halfway inside her and the burning sensation she felt intensified with every second. "You promised it would be just the tip," she gasped as he continued to stimulate her clit. She knew that she should do something now, push him off her. But she just had to admit to herself that it felt too good to do anything now. The feeling was overwhelming, but he was so unbelievably big that it brought tears to her eyes with every further thrust. His head was still buried against her neck, soft moans and sighs stroking her skin. He had never felt anything that felt so good. She wasn't his first, not by a long shot. But none of the women before had stirred up lust in him this much. She was so warm and so, so tight. "I can't stop, it feels too good love. But I'll make it up to you, okay?" He breathed feather-light kisses on her swollen lips. With another thrust, he buried himself completely inside her, driving all the air from her lungs. "I'll put a ring on your finger," he promised too dazed by the veil of lust. "Okay," she gasped. She had only half realized what he had said and she didn't even care anymore. A knot was forming in her abdomen and it was the best thing she had ever felt. And while he never stopped playing with her clit, she began to push herself against his every thrust, meeting him halfway. This allowed him to thrust even deeper into her. His tip bumped against her cervix each time. His previously styled hair now fell loose in his face as he threw his head back. His pace increased and she couldn't stop her eyes from falling shut as the knot tightened. His name rolled off her lips in a continuous loop of moans and the next moment the knot burst. His hips didn't pause as her orgasm rolled over her and only one thought occupied her mind at that moment: it was worth it. This feeling that had taken over her whole body was worth no longer being considered untouched and not starting her marriage as a virgin. She didn't care that someone might find out and what the consequences might be.
His pace seemed to increase even more, even though she hadn't thought that was possible. Then his hips stuttered and she felt a warmth spread through her. He came inside of her. But even that no longer interested her when she caught a glimpse of his peaceful and almost blissful face. He stayed like that above her for a moment, peppering her face with kisses. Then he rolled off her and slid into the sheets beside her. His gaze wandered over her form. She smiled at him, her cheeks still flushed. There were many small marks on her neck and chest that he had left behind. His gaze slid further, between her legs. Her pussy reddened and his cum flowed out of her. Another image of her that he would never forget. He hadn't intended to come inside her, but he hadn't been able to resist in that moment.
1K notes · View notes
lalacliffthorne · 8 months
Text
📃 the basic rules of friendship 📃
Azriel x Reader
summary: the basic rules of friendship. and how to break them.
notes: oh boy. writing this one was pure and utter chaos. it gave me a headache. it did not want to work out. I changed the whole damn plot like five times, because I just wasn't happy with my ideas; they didn't work, they didn't feel right, but I had this specific part that I really wanted to write around, so I couldn't just give it up and call it a day either. then once I finally had it figured out, it still took ages to finish the whole thing, because my brain just wasn't braining - to sum it up, this lil piece of writing basically fried me. but, the last few days, it got easier, I wasn't just staring at the words anymore and what I wrote finally didn't feel blah - and I made it!
so here are the basic rules of friendship. they are long af, and even though they strongly advise against it, there´s smut. steamy steamy smut.
______________________________________________________________
the basic rules of friendship
no. 1: friends are there for each other (friends also never get jealous).
Staring up at the male in front of me, I hoped my facial expression didn´t convey my current thoughts.
Someone help me.
" - so of course we went in, and even though it was a bit of a struggle, we managed to get them all." The male sent me a grin, and I felt my lips curve, though it probably looked slightly pained.
Mor had decided it was that time of year again where she tried herself at being matchmaker. She had picked me as target of the night, using the festivities as a clever cover to drag me from one male she thought might fit the requirements to the next.
The one I was talking to now was by far the most pleasant one this evening, which was probably why I hadn't bolted yet. He had even managed to make me laugh a few times, while the few males before that had been closer to making me cry in despair. He was fairly pretty too, with a cheeky smile, dimples and warm eyes. And I really should have been interested, because he seemed sweet, and funny, and actually charming.
But it just didn't click.
There was something about him - no, actually, it was something that wasn't there. His humor wasn't dry enough. He was a bit too reserved. He didn't quite get my teasing.
There was just something missing.
The way he smiled didn't do anything for me; no little skip in my chest, no hitch in my breath. His voice didn't send tingles down my spine, the dimple in his cheek was not quite right, he was a bit too hulky -
Something churned a little in my chest, and I almost winced.
Gods, what was wrong with me?
The air behind me shifted, and for a second, I wondered if maybe I had left my mental shields down and either Rhys or Feyre had caught onto my thoughts and had decided to step in before I went down a rabbithole of possibilties of what could be wrong with me.
But then the male in front of me straightened a little, suddenly looking alert, and a familiar scent washed over me, cool and frosty, like pine woods in winter, and something skipped softly against my ribs.
Quickly looking over my shoulder, my eyes moved up, and up, and my shoulders sank a little when they found the face of the male suddenly towering behind me.
Azriel's eyes were piercing, unwavering and unreadable as usual, and they were fixed onto the male in front of me. Shadows were swirling around him, creeping over his wings and shoulders, some gently brushing over my back like a happy greeting.
The shadowsinger's face itself looked like carved from marble, jaw sharp and set, the muscles in his cheeks shifting with what looked strangely like tension.
"Hey." I hoped the relief didn't vibrate too strongly through my voice, quickly turning back towards the male in front of me with an apologetic smile.
I had to give it to him, he had balls: Even though the Spymaster of the Night Court was staring right at him, unsettlingly quiet and brooding, the male hadn't immediately shrunk into himself.
Though he did look very uncomfortable.
"I'm going to -" He pointed over his shoulder, sending me a soft grin, and I smiled back, again hoping the relief wasn't too visible in how bright it was.
One corner of the male's lips curved. Then he turned around, and I felt my shoulders sag.
"Thanks." I breathed out, turning around to send Azriel a relieved, crooked smile.
The shadowsinger's eyes followed after the male for another second before they turned down towards me, and his gaze lost some of that unreadable coolness, softening. His eyes moved over my face, and he seemed to catch onto something, because his gaze narrowed in, and a slight crease formed between his brows.
And because it was Azriel, he didn't even have to ask.
The words just tumbled out before i could stop them.
"Is there something wrong with me?"
Azriel's lips parted a little. Then his eyes sharpened, his shoulders shifting as his gaze moved up over my head, zeroing in on somebody behind me, and something skipped high in my chest at the way his gaze froze over, becoming steely and quietly raging like a rising tide-
Hastily, I widened my eyes.
"No, no; he didn't -", I huffed and breathed out, turning my eyes towards the twinkling night sky in a half-laugh. "It's not because of him, it's - me."
The dangerous promise in Azriel's eyes vanished with a blink, but the light crease between his brows deepend as his gaze returned to my face. The warm lights dotted all over the House of Winds' terraces threw shadows under his jaw and made his amber eyes glow softly, his dark hair tousled and skin rosy from the cool wind.
"It's just -" I exhaled again, furrowing my brows softly at myself.
"There's this male, who's actually not a jerk, and who seems good and funny and interested, and - nothing. Absolutely nothing. I just kept finding things that were wrong, even though I don't even know what would have been right, and -", I shook my head and looked up at Azriel, frowning gently as something churned a little in my chest.
"Is there? Something wrong with me?"
Azriel stared at me before huffing, and something tipped over in my chest when a soft snorted laugh broke from his throat.
I frowned, feeling something tighten a little under my ribs. "What?"
Azriel's lips were still twitching upwards like I had just made some sort of joke only he understood as he turned his face away, shaking his head a little. Then he looked back down at me. His amber eyes moved over me for a moment, and there was something in the way he stared at me that soothed the soft twinge under my ribs.
Azriel blinked, then he said steadily, his low, deep voice gently tickling my spine: "There's nothing wrong with you." His gaze moved over my face, and something I couldn't place shifted in his eyes, tinging his voice when he added: "He just wasn't what you're looking for."
"I don't even know what I'm looking for,", I grumbled under my breath, but there was a soft skip in my chest, that bit of tightness gone when I looked up at Azriel. "How am I supposed to find something when I don't know what it looks like?"
Az blinked again, eyes resting on mine. "You'll know."
I felt my brows furrow gently at the sound of his voice, a little quiet and distant but so, so sure.
Feeling my lips twitch, I raised an eyebrow. "That's sappy."
Azriel huffed, but his lips twitched even as he glared down at me, almost like he couldn't hold back the way they curved at the corners. Then he lightly raised a brow. "Mor looks like she's got the next target."
I cursed softly and quickly slid my hand into the crook of his arm, bumping my shoulder into his biceps.
"Come on, let's go, I need a drink."
no. 2: friends talk about their feelings.
“What the fuck was that?”
The door slammed behind me, and I raised my head just in time to see Azriel turn around, his eyes burning into mine so fiercely, I almost held my breath.
Running a hand down my face, I shook my head, my voice tired when I mumbled: “Can we not –“
“I told you to get out, and you didn't listen, you disobeyed orders –“
“Orders?” I stared at him, feeling something begin to bubble in my chest. “You told me to run and fucking leave you!”
“And you didn't!” Azriel´s voice sounded like thunder, not simmering anger, but loud and deep. Shadows gathered around his feet, and his wings flared when he stalked towards me, blood dripping from the wound in his side, but he didn't even seem to notice. “You came back when I told you to leave, you could've died!”
“You would have died!” My voice was incredulous as I stared at him with wide eyes, and Azriel's jaw tightened as he took one last step forward, his chest almost pressing into mine as he glared down at me.
“Then I would have died.” His voice was quiet again and cold, so cold, but his eyes were whirling with emotions I couldn't decipher as they burned into mine. “But you would have been safe.”
Staring up at him, my eyes blown wide, I felt my breathing pick up as I tried to fight against the way my chest grew tighter with every second. Then I exploded.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
Azriel blinked like I had slapped him across the face, but it felt like some kind of dam had broken, because the words just started falling, becoming louder with every second.
“I don't give a shit about being safe if it means you try and sacrifice yourself! You asshole! What the fuck is wrong with you?! I couldn't just leave you because I will never leave you to sacrifice yourself like your fucking life means nothing, because it does, it means everything!” My voice broke as my voice rose into a scream, and I felt tears well in my eyes as the ache under my ribs grew and I hit my fist against his chest.
“You're hurt, you would have died!! What the hell is wrong with you that you think I could just leave you for death, you moron, what would I be living for if you died, especially because of me; it wouldn't mean a thing!” My vision blurred as tears streamed over my cheeks. Azriel stared at me like he had never seen me before, frozen in place as I heaved with quiet sobs, my whole body trembling as I tried to fight for air.
“Don't you get it? You're –“ My voice broke.
Everything.
Azriel's eyes pierced mine, emotion whirling in them, jumbled, indiscernable. Then he blinked.
“Come here,”, he mumbled, his voice hoarse, and I breathed in shudderingly, tears streaming over my face when his hand closed around my elbow and he pulled me forward, not caring a bit that he was still dripping blood onto the carpet as he dragged me into his chest.
“I'm sorry.” I could feel his low voice vibrating through my body, quiet and rough when he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and buried his nose in my hair, and I hiccuped, feeling tears stream over my face as I slid my own arms around his middle and clung to him.
“Never ask that of me -” My voice broke, and Azriel tightened his grip, the tension not leaving his frame as he slipped his hand up my back to tangle his fingers in my hair, his thumb slowly brushing over my skin when he raised his head a little to press his lips against my temple.
“I'm sorry,”, he mumbled against my skin, soft but hoarse, and I pressed my face into the crook of his neck, my body trembling with silent, heaving sobs as I held onto the male who held me.
no. 3: friends might engage in the occasional amicable teasing.
That was it.
Stopping in the middle of the street only a few feet away from the entrance to Rita's, I barely kept myself from wincing as I leaned forward, trying to balance on one foot as I started unlacing the straps of my high heels. They were murderously high, and, together with the cobblestone streets and the drinks I had, that meant mortal danger for my ankles and my dignity.
Plus, they were beginning to hurt like shi-
I almost lost my balance, feeling myself tip to the side and how my eyes widened. But then a hand slipped under my arm and steadied me, and my breath hitched a little when my gaze darted up.
Azriel raised a brow at me.
“Oh, shut up,”, I grumbled quickly under my breath, trying to ignore the soft skip in my chest at the way his golden eyes were twinkling almost indiscernably as I slipped out of the first heel.
Groaning happily in relief as I rolled my ankle, I carefully placed my foot on the cold ground, trying not to wince at the ache jolting through it when I shifted my weight onto it.
Azriel kept his hand under my arm, his scarred skin warm in the cool night air, even as I balanced a lot easier, undoing the laces of the second heel.
Slipping out of it, I straightened, breathing out and trying not to squirm at the soreness of my feet when I shifted on the cold cobblestone. Then I raised my head, and my heart skipped softly.
Az was still staring down at me, brows drawn together a little as he narrowed his eyes at me.
I frowned back at him suspiciously. “What?”
Azriel huffed, but his lips twitched upwards as he shook his head and stepped forward, and I felt my eyes widen when he leaned down.
“No, wait –“
The shadowsinger slipped his arms under my thighs and lower back, and a soft squeal broke from my lips when he straightened back up, easily sweeping me off my feet.
My hands gripped his back, and my heart jumped into my throat when Azriel hoisted me up a little to adjust his grip, the motion causing me to slide up and down in his arms. I hastily clung to him and stared at him desperately.
“Are you serious?”
Azriel's eyes were twinkling a little when he threw me a look. “You looked like you were going to hobble the way home.”
I huffed, scowling at him, but it probably looked more like a pout, because the shadow of a crease formed in Azriel's cheek. Then he raised a brow at me.
“All set?”
Grumbling softly under my breath, I leaned forward a little to gather my shoes in one hand. Azriel changed his grip to hold me steady, his breath brushing over my temple and causing something to flutter gently against my ribs, and I tried to ignore the sudden dip in my throat.
Wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, I pressed my forehead against his shoulder and squeezed my eyes shut.
“Alright, ready.”
There was a soft, amused huff that made Azriel's body vibrate. Then he started moving, setting down the street, every long, steady step sending a soft jolt through my body.
I blinked before cracking open an eye and furrowing my brows in confusion.
“We're walking?”
From my position, I saw only one side of Azriel's face as he looked ahead, but there was a curve to his lips that caused something to swerve sharply in my chest when he threw me a look.
“Unless you want to almost throw up again.”
I raised my head quickly to glower at him.
“That was one time."
"I wasn't actually aware anyone could turn that shade of green before you did." One corner of Azriel's lips tipped upwards.
I scowled at him. "Are you ever going to let me live that down?”
Azriel still looked ahead, but I saw the crease in his cheek deepening.
“Unlikely.”
I scowled, trying to bite back the stupidly wide smile that was suddenly threatening to break out over my face as I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don't like you.”
“I know. You want to hold on any tighter?”
I lightly bonked one of my shoes against the side of his head and earned myself a glare.
Breathing a soft giggle that bubbled in my chest, I exhaled, slowly melting into Azriel's hold as I loosely draped one arm over his collarbones and propped my chin onto his shoulder. Staring at his profile, I felt something flutter softly against my ribs, my heart skipping steadily as my eyes tracked over his straight nose, the sharp line of his jaw illuminated by the warm light of the lanterns and his soft looking lips.
The shadowsinger threw me a look, and I could see the amusement flashing through in his eyes.
“What?”
I shrugged.
“You're pretty.” I sent him a bright, cheeky smile.
Azriel blinked, and it almost looked like the top of his cheekbones started to darken a little, like the lightest shade of pink dusted his skin –
One corner of my lips slowly quirked as I softly narrowed my eyes.
“Are you blushing?” I started to grin widely. “Azriel, are you –“
The shadowsinger's grip shifted, and I squealed softly when I could feel myself being dropped for nothing more than a heartbeat.
Hastily clinging to his shoulders, I raised my head to glare at Azriel incredulously only to find him smirking, just the tiniest bit.
I huffed, something flutter harshly against my ribs as I scowled at the shadowsinger.
“I really don't like you."
no. 4: friends spend quality time together.
Diving, I avoided a swing of Azriel's wing, sliding over the mats and raising my head.
My heart skipped high, and I barely ducked out of the way, Azriel's wings almost translucent in the light of the sinking sun when he flared them to keep his balance, shadows whirling around him as he dodged a blow, a strand of dark hair falling into his forehead, muscles working under his sweaty, glowing skin -
Something caught against the back of my heel and ripped me off my feet.
My back hit the mats with a thud, and all the air was pressed out of my lungs, causing me to grunt softly. My heart skipped in its race against my ribs, and I relaxed into the mats with a huff, scowling when Azriel appeared above me, lips curving upwards as he squinted down at me, barely out of breath.
"Didn't we just talk about never letting your guard down?"
Huffing, I rolled my eyes, feeling a bead of sweat run over my temple and how my hair stuck to my skin when I just laid flat on the mats for a second before holding out my hand with a grumble.
The second Azriel's fingers closed firmly around my wrist, I pulled, my foot catching against his chest and using his own momentum to send him flying over my head.
The shadowsinger crashed onto his back with a heavy thud and a grunt, and I whirled around, using his hand to pull myself up and onto his torso, thighs clamping down next to his hips and my whole weight pressing down onto his chest as I pinned his wrists onto the mats right above his head and smiled widely.
But my remark along the lines of Right back at you, pretty boy got stuck in my throat.
Azriel's eyes were barely an inch away. I could count the golden spots in his amber iris, and the dark lashes framing them under dark brows between which a little crease sat that smoothed over slowly. And they were staring up at mine. I could feel his breath, warm and a little uneven as it brushed over my skin, could feel the steadiness of his piercing eyes as they stared into mine and how solid his chest was, pressed against mine.
My heart fluttered wildly; I hastily moved back a little, and suddenly, something in Azriel's eyes shifted, his body going still beneath mine.
I needed a second until I realised why; why suddenly, Azriel's gaze burning into mine looked different, why he had tensed and his lips were standing just a little agape. But then I shifted again, and Azriel grunted softly, his hips twitching.
Right under my ass.
My breath caught in my throat, my eyes widened a little, and I grew still, staring down at the male pinned onto the mats who'd completely frozen beneath me as my heart suddenly thumped in my throat and something twinged tightly in my lower stomach.
"Sorry,", I whispered, my voice soft and a little breathy, and a spark flashed through Azriel's eyes.
The next second, I was pushed around, all the air escaping my lungs when I crashed onto my back again, and my heart simply gave out when my body was pressed into the mats, hips lodged between my thighs keeping me down and Azriel's face only an inch away, dark hair falling down onto his forehead as his eyes twinkled and one corner of his lips rose.
"Got you."
I blinked, something pounding and fluttering harshly against my ribs as my breath hitched and I stared up into Azriel's golden amber eyes, his lips curving and fingers loosely wrapped around my wrists, just lightly holding them to the ground next to my head as shadows whispered, slowly swirling around his shoulders. Then Azriel's lips twitched, and his hands slipped away, pressing into the mats as he pushed himself up and his weight disappeared.
I stared up at the soft blue sky high above, the first stars twinkling down at me while my heart was skipping, missing beats in my chest until Azriel offered me a hand, the twinkle still in his eyes causing me to huff.
no. 5: friends are comfortable with each other (but not overly).
Grumbling softly, I buried deeper in the cushions. There was a heavy weight resting on my waist, and something warm pressed into my back, a body, tall and solid, wrapped around me. A familiar scent surrounded me like a blanket, engulfing me and filling my lungs, and something started to flutter softly against my ribs when I tiredly cracked open an eye.
My sight was blurry with sleep as my gaze slowly tracked over the coffee table and the open doors leading into the garden, the sun already sinking and dipping everything in a golden light -
My heart jumped softly when the tall body curved around mine shifted, the arm closed around my waist tightening, and my gaze slowly focused on the hand wrapped around my wrist, laying on the cushion of the couch right in front of my face.
My mind was still tired and foggy with sleep as from under half-closed lids, my gaze dragged over the long, slim fingers, a palm far bigger than my own, veins running up a tanned forearm and the marred skin, scarred tissue rough but warm against my skin.
A soft, tired sound vibrated through my body, the thighs lodged between my calves shifting. Then I felt warm breath brush over my skin, and as I shivered softly, Azriel buried his nose at the back of my neck and grumbled lightly. Something skipped high in my chest at the deepness of the sound, how raspy it was.
There was a soft tap against my mental shields, and with a huff, I let them down.
"Please don't tell me you two are still napping."
Rhys' amused voice vibrating through my head made me grumble softly into the cushions, and from the way Azriel's lips curved upwards as he huffed softly against my neck, sending another shiver down my spine, the same question had sounded through his mind as well.
"Weren't you the one who told me that with less than ten hours of sleep, I get unbearably grumpy?", I thought.
There was a light snicker in my mind. Then Azriel growled softly. I didn't know what Rhys had said to him, but it made his grip tighten as he scowled into my neck.
There was one last chuckle in my head followed by a gentle sensation resembling a friendly headbutt before the familiar presence disappeared, leaving everything quiet again.
Breathing out, I squinted tiredly, the haze of sleep slowly dissipating.
Shifting on the spot, I started to wrestle myself around. Azriel grunted softly when I accidentally kicked his shin, and a breathy, sleepy giggle broke from my throat, then I buried myself in his chest. Exhaling, I felt Azriel slide his arm around my waist, his hand coming up to tuck my head under his chin. His fingers slipped into my hair, scratching gently over my scalp, and I groaned happily, causing the shadowsinger to huff in amusement.
His thumb lightly brushed over my cheek, and something skipped gently against my ribs, fluttering lightly.
no. 6: friends don't stare at each other (for too long).
Moving down the stairs, I slipped my fingers under one of the thin straps of the black silk dress softly swishing around my legs, pulling it up my shoulder. I could feel the hilts of my knives gently press against my thigh where they were tucked into the legs of my boots, the heavy heels thumping softly on the steps and the golden earrings Mor had lent me clinking softly. The heavy black leather coat Cass had gifted me a few years ago was draped over my arm, daggers hidden in the specially constructed lining.
It was time to charme some people. Maybe kick some ass.
Hopefully the latter.
Turning to walk down the last pair of stairs into the entrance hall, I grinned when Feyre tapped against my mind's walls, and when I let her in, her voice echoed through my head.
"Are you ready?"
Ready as ever.
"Alright, we'll be there and pick you up in a second."
Feeling my lips quirk as I sent an enthusiastic mental thumbs up her way and hearing her laugh, I raised my head.
My eyes met amber ones, and my breath hitched a little, my movement faltering for just a second.
Azriel stilled. Went completely quiet, head turned back to look up at me, eyes flickering over me, and his lips parted. Just a bit, nothing more than a little gap as his gaze slowly dragged down and up again, and he blinked, the crease between his brows smoothing over into nothing as he simply - stared.
"What?", I mumbled, feeling my lips curve in a soft, sheepish smile as I moved down the last step.
Azriel blinked again, gaze sliding over me, and something shifted in his eyes, something I couldn't decipher but that made my breath hitch.
My gaze flickered over him, and there was a strange little hop in my chest. He was wearing his fighting leathers, nothing unusual, black shoulderplates making him look even broader, daggers strapped around his lean torso and onto his thighs.
Tearing my eyes away from his chest, I tried to ignore the way my heart performed a double flip when I found Azriel's gaze still pinned onto me, piercing my skin.
The shadowsinger blinked, and his throat worked a little like he was suppressing the urge to swallow. Then he slowly turned and stepped towards me. Wordlessly, he held out a hand, and I needed a second before realising what he wanted.
Huffing at myself and cracking a grin, I handed him my coat, and Azriel unfolded it, holding it open for me to slide into the sleeves. The lining was cool against my skin as Az slipped it over my shoulders, and I barely suppressed a soft shudder when his fingers, still out of his gloves, brushed against my neck, carefully pulling my braid out from under the heavy leather.
Turning around, I straightened the lapels and raised my head, and my heart fluttered up, getting caught on in my throat like my breath when Azriel reached out.
His fingers brushed against my waist as he pushed the coat to the side, and a small crease formed between his brows when his hand ghosted over an empty sheath. He straightened a little, and my lips parted, something suddenly rising in my chest when he pulled a dagger from one of the sheaths strapped to his chest. The silver blade flashed in the warm light when Azriel carefully pulled my coat to the side and slid it into the lining. Then his fingers brushed over the hilts concealed by the black silk, checking every single one of them as my heart thrummed into my throat and I stared up at him, his face a lot closer with his head dipped for a better view of the lining, brows drawn together in concentration, amber eyes clear and focused.
Sliding his hand against my waist to check the other side, Azriel raised his head; his gaze found mine, and my breath hitched when he slowly straightened back up a little.
With a soft swoosh of air, Feyre appeared in the middle of the foyer, and somehow, I managed to tear my gaze away from Azriel's to look over at her. She was wearing a silky dress similiar to mine, dark like the night sky and with high slits very practical for any sort of well-placed kick.
Feyre stilled for just a second when her eyes moved over Azriel, standing so close to me that his chest almost touched mine and yet not making any move to step back, before finding mine, and something like a light twinkle flashed through her iris. Then she blinked and raised her brows. "You two ready?"
Blinking, I looked back up at Az, and my breath hitched.
The shadowsinger was still staring down at me. I wasn't sure he had even looked when Feyre had winnowed in, and he didn't react when Mor appeared next to Feyre either, wearing a dark red dress with a deep neckline. Both of them looked ready to smile charmingly and, if necessary, press a knife to someone's throat, but Azriel didn't even cast them a glance.
His eyes were on me, and suddenly, it felt a little hard to breathe.
Azriel's gaze cleared just a little, and he shifted, shoulders straightening.
"Give me a sign if you need me." I knew his deep voice was directed at the other two as well, but his eyes didn't stray away from mine, waiting until I nodded lightly. Then he took a step back, and shadows swallowed him.
Feyre cleared her throat lightly, and when I looked over at her with a blink, one corner of her lips had curved upwards, her iris twinkling. But she just raised her brows, and Mor held out her hand, her eyes bright as she beamed at me.
Staring at the two of them for a moment in confusion, I then blinked and shook my head lightly, moving towards them. Mor sent me a wink.
"You look hot."
I nodded. "As opposed to how I usually look."
Feyre lightly rolled her eyes and Mor flicked my forehead, and snickering, I took her offered hand.
no. 7: friends don't kiss.
Closing the bathroom door behind me, I raised my head, and my heart skipped softly against my ribs when Azriel raised his head.
He was sitting on the edge of my mattress, wearing only soft looking pyjama pants, his hair tousled and a little damp, like he had taken a shower earlier.
Sending him a soft, cheeky grin, I felt my brows furrow gentle. "Hey."
Azriel's eyes tracked down my body, over the large soft sweater and the too big pyjama pants that both had probably belonged to him at some point, and I shifted a little on the spot. Then his gaze turned back towards my face, and one corner of his lips rose into a small, crooked smile.
Slowly starting to walk towards him, I let my gaze flicker over his face, feeling the curious crease between my brows deepen.
"What are you doing here?"
Azriel blinked. His eyes tracked over my face, slow, a little tired but warm in the soft light.
"Just -" He broke off before huffing and shaking his head. "I don't know. Can´t sleep."
I felt my lips curve and sent him a cheeky smile. "I could read something to you."
Azriel's lips curved, and his gaze moved over mine. "I doubt that would help."
"Hey, my reading skills aren't that bad, alright?" I grinned.
Azriel raised his brows, and I lost the fight against the soft giggle building in my throat.
"Oh, shut up."
The shadowsinger's cheek creased a little. He was still staring at me, and I caught something shifting in his eyes as a muscle in his jaw tightened and relaxed again.
Something shifted in my chest, and before I could stop myself, I quickly moved forward and hugged him tightly.
I could feel Azriel freeze a little. One second. Two. Then his shoulders sagged a bit, and his arms slowly slid around my waist, squeezing lightly. It was funny, like this; with him sitting on the edge of the mattress, the size different was reversed for once, me dropping my head to press my nose against his shoulder and Az burying his face at my collarbone.
Holding onto him for another second, I slowly moved back, feeling my lips rise softly. Azriel's arms slipped off my waist, and his muscles shifted when he turned his head. Then he went still, and when I looked up in confusion, my breath hitched.
Golden eyes stared into mine, lips opened just a bit. I could see the shadow of a few freckles on a straight nose, the softness of his lips. And suddenly, my heart was quiet.
The tip of my nose softly nudged against Azriel's, and his eyes fluttered, the muscles in his jaw working as his fingers dug into the cotton of my pants. Then he lightly raised his chin, and his nose brushed past mine again, causing a tingling shiver to travel over my skin, down my spine and into my fingers, making them tremble as I curled them into his shoulders.
I didn't know if I leaned down or Azriel up.
Didn't know if my hand slipping to the back of his neck was first, or his fingers closing around my hips, dragging me forward a little.
All I knew was that his lips were warm and soft and that they were pressed against mine, gentle but soon almost a little feverish.
That his breath was harsh, trembling when he exhaled against my skin.
And that suddenly, my heart wasn't quiet anymore. That it was rising in my chest like a storm, fluttering more violently with every second until breathing was difficult.
Slowly, Azriel broke away, just far enough for his nose to bump against mine again and his unsteady breath to hit my lips. When I forced open my eyes, something flipped against my ribs, because his were still closed, his chest moving quickly as his finger dug into my hips and he swallowed harshly. Then Azriel opened his eyes, and all air I had managed to get left me. Because the gold in his iris was melting together and his lids were heavy and for a moment, he looked a little bit like he wasn't quite there. But then our noses brushed and his lids fluttered and a soft sound broke from his chest that made the world tip over.
"You -" His deep voice sent a shiver down my spine, uneven and more hoarse than I had ever heard it, and Azriel's jaw worked, brows drawing together like he was forcing himself to focus as his eyes found mine, something in them that was strange and pleading and burning when he mumbled raspily: "If you let me kiss you again, I won't be able stop."
My heart skipped once and high and harsh. Then I whispered, soft and a little shakily: "I don't think I want you to stop."
Azriel's cheek muscles shifted and he shuddered, like the thought alone -
His fingers dug into my hips, tugging me closer as he pressed his forehead against mine and mumbled roughly: "If you kiss me again -"
I leaned forward and kissed him breathlessly, and Azriel's grip slipped before tightening as a deep rumble built in his throat and he pushed forward and kissed me back like he'd been waiting for centuries.
no. 8: friends never, ever, under no circumstances - well, you can probably guess where this is going.
My breath tumbled when Azriel dragged me closer, closer until my body curved into his sitting one and he kissed me like it was the only thing keeping him afloat, deep and desperate and causing my heart to tip over in my chest when his tongue dragged over mine and his hand slipped under my soft sweater.
A soft shuddering breath left me when his rough fingers ghosted over my back, trailing up my spine, and my fingers curled into his hair, causing a deep sound to rumble through Azriel's body. His other hand closed firmly around my hips, then he pulled back, and my heart skipped into my throat at the sight of his eyes, glazed over and hazy.
Azriel's lips parted just a little and his throat worked when he slid his hand from my back to my front, fingers pushing up the hem of my sweater, up until it was bunched up under my breasts, and my spine turned to jelly when Azriel turned his burning gaze away from my face and dropped his head to press a slow, open-mouthed kiss against my ribs.
My hand flew up to tangle in the soft hair at the back of his head, my eyes fluttering, and Azriel groaned softly, deep in his throat as his hand slipped up to press against my back, pushing me into him until my thighs were pressed against the inside of his and he leaned forward, lips dragging over my skin as he began to trail hot kisses over my stomach.
My head fell back as something rose in my chest, wild and madly fluttering. My lower stomach tightened, quivering, causing my breath to hitch.
It felt like with every kiss, Azriel pulled the floor out from under me, over and over again, the whole world swaying around me whenever he got closer to where my sweater was bunched up under my breasts, my fingers digging into his hair when he dipped down again.
It seemed like he was trying to taste every inch of my skin, breath heavy and uneven, grip tightening around me when his teeth grazed over the skin right under the seam of my bra, and I whimpered.
A small, guttural sound built in Azriel's chest, and he attacked the spot, dragging my body into his, kissing and biting until I could feel my skin pulse. My eyes fluttered as my head tipped back a little and I felt my lips open, and the shadowsinger pressed a scarred hand flat against my spine, running his nose over the bruise like a breathless apology. Then he raised his head, and my heart skipped, tipping over at the sight of his hazy eyes, honeyed iris clouded, lids heavy and soft lips swollen. A strand of dark hair fell into his forehead, and the way he was staring at me caused my breath to stumble, hitch and flutter, his throat working as he swallowed and tugged me forward, slowly pulling me with him as he leaned back, and my heart tipped over in my chest when he dragged me down into his lap.
I could feel Azriel's grip shift, saw the flutter of his lids as my chest pressed into his, and everything under my ribs coiled when his hot, unsteady breath brushed over my lips, his nose softly nudging against mine.
My fingers curled into his shoulders as I tried to breathe, even though it felt impossible with his scent invading my senses, his chest against mine and his arm heavy on my waist as his palm pressed against my back, gently urging me forward.
My hips rolled down, and Azriel's lids fluttered the same second my lips fell open as I felt his hard cock press against me, his hands slipping down to close around my hips, and I almost expected him to push me away, bring distance between us -
Azriel dragged my hips forward, and I inhaled softly, sharply, something hot zipping through my lower stomach and pulsing when I ground down against the bulge in Azriel's pants. His lips were parted just a bit, his breathing harsh as his nose nudged against mine, lids heavy. Then his grip around my hips tightened, fingers digging into my skin, and my breath hitched and stumbled when he started guiding my movements, his eyes fixed onto my face like they were burning through me, hazy but piercing.
I barely bit back a soft whimper when Azriel's hot, unsteady breath grazed over my lips, my fingers digging into his hair as I rocked against him, tantalizingly but deliciously slow. Azriel's nose brushed over mine, his hands shifting on my hips, rocking me down harder, and something twisted harshly in my stomach, a wave of heat washing over me.
Before I could stop myself, I pulled him towards me, and Azriel's lips crashed onto mine.
My heart rose into my throat, fluttering as I felt myself twist around nothing, and I whimpered, curling my fingers into the back of Azriel's neck when he kissed me like I was his last breath, devouring, desperate. His tongue slid against mine as his hands slipped under my sweater, curving around my waist, and something swelled in my chest when his rough warm skin pressed against mine, his thumb brushing over my ribs, up against the underside of my breast.
I moaned softly into his mouth, causing his grip to tighten and drag me closer like I wasn't already pressed flush into his chest. His hands closed around the hem of my sweater and pulled it up, up until I had to break away for him to tug it over my head. My arms slipped back over his shoulders, and Azriel leaned forward, into me, kissing me again, deep and hard as he threw my sweater carelessly into the room.
My fingers dug into Azriel's shoulders when his hands slipped under my thighs. Then he lifted me up, turning to place my back on the mattress, his warm, solid body between my legs pushing my knees apart and causing something in my chest to rise and flutter madly, and a soft groan broke from his chest when his body pressed down into mine.
My fingers curled into his hair, and Azriel broke the kiss to drop his head, his hand sliding to the nape of my neck, tangling in my hair and dragging my head back as he began to press slow, hard kiss against my throat, his heavy, uneven breath hitting my skin as his teeth grazed over my skin. A whimper fled my throat, and my eyes rolled back lightly.
A deep, rough sound rumbled through Azriel´s chest, and his lips brushed lower, kisses growing more deep, more desperate the lower his rough hands slipped on my sides as he slowly made his way down my torso. My body arched into him as he breathed harshly, kissing and nipping at my skin as he pulled down my pants. Then his nose grazed the rim of my panties, and my head fell back as my insides twitched and Azriel groaned deep in his chest.
His hot, harsh breath brushed over the soaked material, and his nose nuzzled against my hip like he was trying to reign himself in, the tension in his shoulders looking unbearable as his lips ghosted over where my thigh and middle met. Then Azriel's fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties and pulled them down, and a soft groan left him, almost desperate.
Raising my hips to help him shimmy the material down my legs, I expected him to move back up my body. But Azriel didn't. His shoulders pushed my thighs apart, and my heart stilled, simply stopped when without hesitation, Azriel sank to his knees.
My breath caught when his hands closed around my hips and dragged me towards him, and a whimpering sound left me when I felt his nose gently nudge against my skin, an ache spreading through my lower stomach like a weight.
My hips bucked, my fingers digging into the sheets, and with a soft rumbling sound leaving him, Azriel pushed one of my legs over his shoulder and dipped his head.
My lips fell open, my heart stilled, and my whole body became weightless when Azriel slowly ran his tongue through my folds. My eyes flew down, finding his, heavily lidded and hazy, a strand of dark hair falling into his face between my legs, and a deep groan rumbled deep in his chest. Then he dropped his head and dove in.
My head fell back against the mattress, and my back arched.
Azriel moved like a male starving devouring his last meal. His warm tongue lapped at me, running over my clit, pressing down and flicking before his mouth closed over it, and my eyes rolled into my head as breathless moans spilled from my lips.
Azriel's fingers dug into the top of my thigh, his other hand slipping up to press onto my stomach as his eyes fluttered and a moan vibrated in his chest. He sounded more enthusiastic than I had ever heard him; like right where he was, settled between my legs, his nose brushing over my skin as he dipped his head to lap and suck at me eagerly, was exactly, precisely where he had always wanted to be –
His tongue flicked over my clit, and my hand flew up to press over my mouth as a loud whimper broke from my lips. But Azriel's fingers slipped around my elbow, and something flipped in my chest, rising and fluttering violently when he gently tugged my hand away from my mouth, his own sliding down my arm until his rough, scarred fingers slid between mine, lacing them together as his eyes pierced my face, clouded and lids heavy like he wasn´t quite there. Then he ran his tongue firmly over my clit, and I moaned, breathily and drawn as I curled my fingers into the sheets above my head.
The weight in my stomach grew slowly, twisting tighter and tighter, and my back arched as a deep groan left Azriel, like what he was doing right now, fingers laced with mine, eyes hazy and hair dishevelled, was the best satisfaction I could give him. The muscles in his cheeks worked as he sucked eagerly on my clit, pressing his tongue against the sensitive spot, eyes never leaving my face even as they fluttered, and I felt my lips fall open at the sight of him.
My fingers dug into the sheets as I could feel myself pulse around nothing, the pressure in my lower stomach slowly building as whimpers left me and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as whispered curses broke from my lips and my breath heaved, and Azriel's hum vibrated through me. Then his tongue ran over my clit and he sucked, hard, obscene sounds filling the room as he kept pushing and pushing –
The knot in my stomach collapsed and my back arched off the mattress, hips bucking as waves of pleasure crashed over me, my insides twisting and exploding like stars and loud whining sounds breaking from my lips as my eyes rolled back.
I felt Azriel's soft moan more than I heard it, sending vibrations through my body and causing my hand to fly down and dig into his hair. My hips jerked and rolled as my thighs twitched, sharp twinges of pleasure causing my whole body to spasm, but Azriel didn't stop. His tongue lapped at everything he could get, eyes fluttering as another groan rumbled through his body, making me whimper, and he moved, fingers digging into my thigh, keeping it wrapped over his shoulder as he pushed closer, sucking harshly, tongue swirling, and I could feel my stomach twist and turn as another knot built, even tighter and bigger than before.
My mouth fell open, my head pressing into the mattress; Azriel gave a soft sound, maybe an encouragement or a plea, and the world simply slipped away, bursting into a million pieces as the knot exploded, crashing down into a wave so violent, my body shuddered.
My insides tightened, tightened with pleasure so blinding, I couldn't breathe, no sound leaving me as I twitched and writhed, and Azriel kept going, kept sucking my clit into his mouth, tongue pressing against it and flicking over me until my trembling fingers curled deeper into his hair, because it was too much, too good, too much -
My insides twisted, twitching as my knees shook and a breathless whimper left me, and I dug my nails into Azriel's scalp and tugged, tugged harshly until with a soft rumble, the shadowsinger pulled away.
My heart missed a beat, another.
Azriel's pupils were blown, eyes heavily lidded and a little far away when he raised his head, licking his swollen lips. His mouth and chin were glistening as he slid his hands off my thighs, and my breath hitched.
The bed dipped when Azriel pushed himself to his feet to move up my body, his arms pressing down next to my head, his bare chest brushing over mine and his knee pressing into the mattress between my thighs. His nose softly nudged against mine, like a silent question of you alright, and something tipped over in my chest, rising and fluttering.
Quickly, I slipped my hands into his hair and pulled him down, and Azriel groaned softly when I pressed my lips feverishly against his. His body sank into mine when he kissed back, deep and desperate.
My heart skipped against my ribs, and I wrapped a leg over his back, because he still wasn't close enough, not where my middle was pulsing -
The shadowsinger went rigid under my touch when I dragged him down, down until his whole body pressed into mine and I could feel -
Azriel caught my hand, grip tight around my fingers as he breathed heavily, his voice hoarse as he mumbled against my lips: "Are you sure -"
A moan slipped past my lips, soft and pleading as my insides turned, something hot washing over me as I nodded into the kiss, maybe a bit too frantic, too eager, but it didn't matter, not with the groan leaving Azriel's throat, rumbling through his body in what felt like pure relief and desperation.
I tugged at his pants, feeling them slip down his hips and over his legs as Azriel pushed my thighs apart. His lips dragged over mine, then I could feel the tip of his cock nudging against my folds.
My breath gave out, an ache spreading through my body as I whimpered, and Azriel's jaw shifted as he moved in the spot, trying to find an angle with him kneeling on the side of the mattress -
A soft, impatient sound left him; his hands slipped under my backside, and Az lifted me up.
My breath hitched, my arms quickly sliding over his shoulders when Azriel straightened, lips crashing against mine as my chest pressed into his, and I moaned when I could feel him rub up against me as he turned around.
My back hit the wall, and I whimpered, Azriel's tongue dragging over mine as he pushed closer, dragging my thigh up his side as his tip brushed through my folds, way easier like this for him to -
My heart got caught in my throat. My lips fell open, and my heart rose into my throat as I felt myself stretch around Azriel's cock, his hard length pressing at my walls he slowly began to push in.
Azriel dropped his forehead against mine with a strained grunt, his back muscles flexing as my fingers dug into the back of his shoulders, harsh breath hitting my skin as he slowly began to work his way in.
Whimpering softly, I shifted my hips, because he was big and I felt too tight and -
My eyes fluttered, a quiet sound leaving me when my walls closed around him, pulling him in, and Azriel's grip tightened when his hips settled against mine. His hand pressed against the wall over my head he breathed heavily against my lips, nose nudging against mine, and I whimpered, tugging him closer.
A soft groan left Azriel, and his hand slid down to the side of my neck, tilting my head back to kiss me. It was messy and breathless and I whimpered when his tongue slid against mine, his teeth sinking softly into my bottom lip and pulling lightly. His nose nudged against mine, then Azriel slipped his hand down to grip the back of my thigh, pulling it higher up his side, and I felt my lips open when it caused him to slide inside of me.
Azriel pressed his forehead against mine, out of breath as his throat worked, and I curled my fingers into his hair, nodding frantically as my insides tightened, and my head tipped back against the wall when Az slowly pulled out. Then he thrusted back in, and my lips fell open.
Slowly, little by little, Azriel took me apart. His lips dragging over my throat, heavy breaths hitting my skin, hot and ragged, his fingers digging into my thighs as his slow, deep rhythm shook me to my very core. With every thrust, the world seemed to tip a little more, until there was nothing anymore, nothing but him, body rocking mine into the wall, his cock hitting deeper with every thrust. His arm gripped me tighter, then his hand tugged down one strap of my soft bra and his palm closed over my breast, causing a whimper to break from my lips that turned into a moan when Azriel's lips latched onto my nipple, a groan rumbling deep in his throat when he bit and sucked on my skin, rough palm squeezing and tugging at my breast until my insides tightened around him, squeezing as I shuddered and dug my fingers into his hair, dragging him back up, and Azriel moaned hoarsely into my mouth as our lips crashed together. His hips snapped forward, and my hand flew out to grip the mantlepiece as my own rolled down to meet his next thrust.
Azriel's shoulders trembled as his fingers almost slipped off my thighs, and a sound left him that caused my chest to rise when his cock hit a spot so deep inside of me, I lost my breath. Lost my grip, felt my stomach pulse, and Az groaned against my lips when I dug my fingers into his neck and started meeting his hard, slowly quickening thrusts.
My lips fell open, my eyes fluttering as little by little, that familiar tightness began to form in my lower stomach. Only it felt even brighter, hotter and more pulsing than before, with Azriel buried deep inside me, hitting that spot that made my body writhe with every hard snap of his hips. And I knew he could feel it too, the way my insides wound tighter with every thrust, fluttering and pulling him in, his grip bruising as he breathed harshly against my neck, deep, hoarse sounds leaving him somewhere halfway between moans and whimpers, and maybe those sounds alone would have done me in. But then his nose dragged up my cheek, and Azriel pressed his forehead against mine as my fingers scratched over his scalp, his ragged breath hitting my lips as his lids fluttered over his eyes that looked like melted amber.
His hand slipped between us, and my breath caught. Simply stopped when Azriel's rough thumb brushed over my clit, slow and hard, and the world fell apart. Became exploding galaxies and stardust as waves of pleasure crashed over me so intensely, I felt my body tremble and shake beyond measure, my eyes rolling back as my sight went blurry, and Azriel's thrusts faltered. His hips snapped once, twice before pushing in deep, then his head fell forward and lips opened soundlessly as his body shuddered.
no. 9: friends don't fall in love with each other.
When I woke up, Azriel was gone.
Something tightened a little in my chest, and I quickly sat up, my gaze moving over my clothes haphazardly strewn over the floor, the crinkled sheets and the window behind which, the sky was still a deep black, with galaxies twinkling in the far, far distance.
I couldn't have been asleep for long.
A little bit of pressure built in my throat, a gentle ache forming in my chest, and I quickly slipped off the mattress, picking up my sweater and tugging it over my head as I padded towards the door.
The townhouse was submerged in peaceful silence, the moon shining through the windows onto the stairs the only source of light as I soundlessly moved down the steps.
On the third floor, there was faint light shimmering out from under the door to the library, and my breath got caught in my throat.
Swallowing softly, I carefully opened the door and slipped through. Gently closing it behind me, I started to quietly move past the shelves until I caught movement over at the window, and my heart did a flip against my ribs when I came to a slow halt.
Azriel was with his back to me, slowly wandering from side to side, his bare feet making no sound on the hardwood floors, his shoulders tense, wings shifting and muscles working under his skin as he ran a hands through his hair. Shadows were pooling around his feet, completely quiet for once, just gently brushing against his ankles when he leaned forward, pressing his palms onto the window sill and dropping his head.
Something tightened a little in my chest, and I pulled up my shoulders, whispering softly and a bit hesitantly: "Az?"
Azriel stilled for a moment. Then he looked over his shoulder, and his eyes found mine, amber in the warmth of the fae lights.
I tried to fight against the soft skip in my chest and stared at him.
Azriel blinked before straightening slowly, his deep voice sending rushs of soft tingles down my spine when he mumbled: "Are you okay?"
I nodded, feeling one corner of my lips rise carefully as I fiddled with my sleeve and my eyes flickered back and forth between his.
"You?"
Azriel's gaze wandered over my face as he slowly turned to look at me, eyes moving over mine, almost like he was looking for something. Then he nodded lightly.
Feeling the curve of my lips deepen, I shifted a little on the spot, mumbling softly: "You don't look like it."
Azriel blinked again, and his throat worked a little, something shifting in his jaw. The tightness in my chest grew a little as I stared at him, feeling my throat close up.
I knew that look, knew how it meant he was in his head.
"Th-this doesn't have to change anything." I quickly shook my head, taking a step forward as I stared at him. "We can just forget about it, if you -" My eyes darted over his face, something tightened sharply in my chest, and I blurted hastily: "I'll get over it; I can push it away, I mean I think I have for centuries, I can pretend, and it'll go away, and we'll just -"
I broke off, my eyes darted up, and my heart did one mighty flip.
Because I had just realised what in my hurry to make Azriel's doubt go away had slipped from my lips.
And because Azriel had straightened. His lips parted as his eyes rushed over my face, and I barely suppressed the urge to swallow.
Shit.
"What?" Azriel's voice was hoarse as he stared at me, and I nearly winced.
"I don't know;", my voice rose to a panicked, high tone as I widened my eyes and quickly raised my shoulders, "you looked so in your head, and I know we messed up, but I can't lose you, and if you think this was a mistake or you don't like me like that, I -"
The shadowsinger stared at me, and suddenly, his eyes brightened. Started to shine like amber held into the sun, and his shoulders sank like a tension of centuries had flooded from his body. His lips parted a little more as he stared at me, and suddenly, the shadow of a crease formed in his cheek.
"Push what away?"
Something started rising in my chest, fluttering wildly as Azriel's eyes pierced mine and the golden spots in his iris started to dance.
Azriel stared at me. Then he began to slowly walk towards me, iris bright and twinkling. My heart tipped and tilted, and I swallowed, my gaze darting around the room.
Rough fingers gently closed around my chin, and my breath got caught in my throat, simply stopping when Azriel mumbled: "No, no, come on, sweetheart." His thumb and forefinger gently forced me to look up, up until I met his bright eyes flickering over my face, his deep voice tickling my spine and something shifting through his gaze, careful, anxious, when he said softly: "Push what away?"
I felt my lips open, my heart pounding harshly against my ribs, and my brows arched on their own accord.
"Oh, come on; really?" My voice rose desperately, and in any other situation, it would have been hilarious.
"What do you want to hear; that kissing you made the fucking world stop? That you probably ruined me for every godsdamned male out there, because there's no way anyone could ever make me feel that way again? That I was too stupid to realise I've fallen for my best friend like a complete idiot, even though you make my heart beat out of my chest everytime you just look at me? That you're everything? Tha-"
Azriel leaned down, and the world tipped off its axis when he kissed me, his hand slipping to the nape of my neck to tug me closer, fingers tangling in my hair. Then he started to smile against my lips, slow and wide, and my breath caught when he dipped forward and kissed me deeper.
Digging my fingers into his sides, I tried to keep my heart from fluttering out of my chest as something rose so violently under my ribs, a soft sound broke from my throat when Azriel's tongue slid against mine, and a slightly shaking exhale left him.
Gently brushing his thumbs over the side of my neck, Azriel slowly pulled away, his nose nudging against mine when he mumbled roughly against my lips: "If it makes you feel any better, you definitely ruined me for everyone I'll ever meet."
A trembling breath left me, and I pulled my head back to stare up at Azriel, that flutter in my chest growing when I saw the light in his eyes when he stared back down at me.
"You -" My voice gave out, and one corner of Azriel's lips quirked a little.
"I?" His voice was a little hoarse as his eyes tracked over mine, and he swallowed softly. "Am in love with you."
My breath caught in my throat.
Azriel's eyes moved over my face, and I could feel a gentle exhale leaving him as his hands pulled me closer until I gently bumped into his chest and he dropped his head, staring at me, looking like he was trying not to swallow as he mumbled lowly: "I've loved you for as long as I can remember. And I'll probably still love you when we're nothing but dust under the sky. The only reason I didn't tell you sooner was that I was scared to lose you if you didn't feel the same."
I breathed out and closed my eyes as my heart rose in a wild flutter and a warm thrum built in my chest as my lips started to curve into a ridiculously wide, desperate smile. "We're so stupid."
I felt Azriel's soft huff more than I heard it. Then his breath brushed over my face, and the next second, his hands slipped under the underside of my thighs and lifted me up.
My legs locked around his waist like instinct, my breath hitching as I held onto his shoulders, and my heart skipped when my nose almost bumped into Azriel's, his eyes bright as he stared at me.
"Remember when you asked me how you're supposed to know what you're looking for and I said you just know?" His low, deep voice sent a shiver down my spine, and I swallowed and somehow managed a nod.
One corner of Azriel's lips curved, then he dropped his head, and my breath caught in my throat, my eyes fluttering close when he leaned his forehead against mine.
"I was thinking of you." Azriel's quiet voice vibrated over my skin. "Because you became all I ever wanted, all I could see when I realised you were what I had been looking for my whole life."
My fingers curled into his hair, and a soft sound left Azriel's lips the same moment my heart rose into my throat.
"Sappy,", I whispered, my voice breaking a little, and Azriel chuckled against my lips before he pulled back, and something tipped over in my chest at the way he stared at me.
I blinked before looking down at his arms holding me up, chest pressing into mine, and something rose under my ribs.
"Now what?"
Azriel's lips curved, and my heart stumbled and skipped at the way his golden eyes twinkled when he raised a brow.
"Now I'll take you back upstairs and we'll do some more things that will ruin just thinking about anybody else."
no. 10 - the golden rule: friends make their own rules.
(and occasionally realize they aren't friends at all and they're idiots.)
@waytoomanyteenagefeels @ailyr92
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cupid-styles · 29 days
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omg bestieeeee i so need hocker h nd ballerina to talk and smooch !!!!! ngl i’m a sucker for protective and jealous h 🤭🤭🤭🤭 🐱
I feel like ive made you guys wait way too long for this one gvkdfjgkf
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a continuation of this blurb! (and sort of this one)
word count: 2.3k (we had a lot of ground to cover)
content warnings: minor mentions of smut, slight angst but all is fixed by the end, not ramadan friendly
main masterlist | hockey h masterlist
talk to me
. . .
Two weeks.
Two weeks of radio silence from Y/N.
Two weeks of over-thinking everything he did that night.
Two weeks of Harry drunk texting her on lonely nights.
please just tell me if you hate me
im so sorry
ill leave you alone if its what you want, I just need to know
Each and every time, Y/N read his messages, eyes scanning over the words, and locked her phone.
The truth is, she doesn't know what she wants from him, if anything. She doesn't know why she felt so attracted to him that night — she was tipsy, not drunk, and in complete control of her actions. She never hooked up with people in public — no messy makeouts, but she certainly never let anyone finger her in the hallway of a bar.
The entire thing was completely unlike her. Maybe that's what scared her the most.
Deep down, she wanted to reply to him, but she didn't even know what to say. She didn't want him to leave her alone — maybe that was selfish, but she liked knowing he was at least a little okay. She'd even been keeping secret tabs on the hockey team. They had won their past two games, but Harry had been thrown out in the most recent one for unsportsmanlike conduct. Apparently, he'd gotten into a fight with one of the players on the other team.
Admittedly, that worried her, but she didn't want to be his babysitter. On top of that, the spring showcase was this weekend, and she'd thrown every last bit of her energy into rehearsing and practicing to make sure her performance would be absolutely flawless.
She didn't have the time — or mental capacity — to worry about Harry right now.
. . .
"You look like an idiot."
Harry rolls his eyes as he adjusts the collar on his button down for the third time. James and his girlfriend Melanie had helped him with ironing it out so it looked presentable enough on his body. Anything he ever did rarely called for slacks and button up shirts, but Melanie advised him to look polished and put-together for tonight.
He wasn't in a place to reject her advice.
The other teammates that James lived with weren't quite as kind. Stephen, a sophomore defenseman who was only on the team for the perks of sleeping with every girl he could get his hands on, wouldn't stop throwing sarcastic comments Harry's way.
"Shut up, Stephen!" Melanie calls from the living room. She marches into James' bedroom as Harry smoothes out a few leftover wrinkles in his slacks, swallowing tightly. "When's the last time you cared about something besides fucking random girls? At least Harry has some direction in his life."
"I'm just saying, the girl's been ignoring him for weeks. She's gonna laugh in his face."
"Leave!" Melanie exclaims, batting him on the shoulder. Stephen lets out a yelp of pain and Harry smirks, despite the anxiety throbbing in his chest. "You're not helping! Get out!"
Reluctantly, Stephen rolls his eyes as he follows Melanie's orders and leaves the room. She sighs and comes up from behind Harry before flashing him a hopeful grin.
"You look great, H. I think this is a really sweet gesture."
He nibbles on his bottom lip as he turns to face her. "Okay, but what if Stephen's dumbass is right? She could call security on me and have me removed."
Melanie gives him a sympathetic look, "Yeah, it's a possibility. But isn't it better to go down fighting?"
He shrugs.
"You said ballet is her everything. It's her entire life. Show her that you're willing to integrate yourself into that."
"Yeah," he breathes out, nodding slowly. "Yeah, you're right."
"I know I am." she grins. "Okay, let's get you over there. Don't forget the flowers you picked up!"
. . .
30 minutes later, Harry can't stop shifting uncomfortably as he sits in an aisle seat in the campus auditorium at Y/N's spring showcase.
The massive bouquet of flowers in his lap keep making his nose run and he feels like he's being suffocated by the buttons on his shirt that go all the way up to his neck. Best of all, according to the show program, Y/N isn't scheduled to go on until the very end. She mentioned to him once that being placed as the finale act is the best and biggest compliment, and he can't fight the bit of pride that thrums in his heart.
For an hour, he sits there, fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt and pinching his bottom lip between his fingers as he waits for Y/N to go on. He sits through mediocre singing showcases and even a violin solo that almost puts him to sleep, if not for the older man clearing his throat next to him. Melanie and James even text him during the intermission to see how it's going, but he doesn't have much to report back.
Finally, the show comes to a close and her name is announced, following by the title of the French piece of music she's dancing to. His heart throbs in his chest — he's so nervous for her, especially knowing she hurt her ankle just a few weeks back. But the second she graces the stage, she's a vision of beauty, strength, and delicacy all at the same time. It's enough to take Harry's breath away.
As he sits there watching her, he doesn't move a muscle. Not for a single jump, spin, or step. He doesn't know anything about ballet — not aside from what Y/N has told him — but in that moment, he realizes that he'd be willing to learn every little thing there is to know if it meant she let him back into her life.
She's gorgeous. She offers a flawless performance and the second she's finished, a look of relief washes over her face as she takes a subdued bow, her pretty eyes widening when she sees all the people — Harry included — standing and applauding her.
For Y/N, the hard part was over. For Harry, it had just begun.
. . .
Y/N is elated to have a moment of silence after her performance.
With the dressing room door shut behind her, she lets out a long, deep breath. The dance she'd been driving herself crazy over for months was finally over.
And yet, for some reason, she feels empty.
She shoves it down as sits, eager to get her pointe shoes off. She's ready to shed her costume and get into sweatpants and head home. She knows the rest of the performers are heading out to a party tonight, but she's exhausted.
She's sorting through the bag of clothes she brought when there's a soft knock at the door. She knows she only has around 20 minutes to get out before the janitorial staff starts cleaning, so she rises with a sigh, unlocking the door and opening it.
"I'll be done soon, I just need to change—"
It's not the janitor, though.
It's Harry. Standing there stiffly in a starchy button down with a huge bouquet of flowers that almost encompass the width of his broad shoulders.
"What are you doing here?" she blurts without thinking.
"I came to watch you perform," he replies gently. His throat bobs as he hands her the flowers. "These are for you."
"You didn't watch me." she snorts with a shake of her head. She hasn't accepted the bouquet yet.
"Yes, I did," he instantly fires back, "What, do you wanna see my ticket for proof? I was in seat F34, next to an old man who kind of smelled like soup, and he kept clearing his throat and it was really annoying but I didn't care because I came to see you, and I'd sit through hours of bullshit to watch you dance."
Harry can't read the blank expression of her face, but he takes it as a step in the right direction when she takes the flowers from him. She blinks as she glances past him and then steps aside, motioning for him to come in.
"I have to get my shit together and leave soon, so... just sit in here."
He nods. He's hesitant to allow himself to relax since he's not sure if he's in the clear yet. She closes the dressing room door behind her and places the bouquet on her vanity.
"I need to change," she says, spinning around to face him. "Close your eyes."
He chuckles until he sees the serious expression on her face. "Wait, really?"
"Yes, really."
"But... I— y'know—"
"Just turn the fuck around, Harry."
He does as he's told, shutting his eyes as he listens to her roll her tights down and step out of her leotard. One day, if she let him, he'd be more than happy to do that for her — not even in a sexual way, but he knows how tiring it can be to take off his own gear after a long game. He thinks it would be nice to be there for her.
"Okay, you're good," she murmurs. She's stuffing her things in her tote bag when he bats his eyes back open.
"Are you meeting up with anyone after this? I'm sure your friends came to see you, but I just wanted to maybe talk and... y'know, clear the air a bit." Harry says, wringing his hands nervously in his lap. Y/N furrows a brow as she analyzes his body language. She doesn't think she's actually seen him look anxious before.
"Um... no," she says with a shake of her head before quickly revising her answer, "No, I mean, I'm not meeting up with anyone and no one came to see me. Except you, I guess."
"Wait, really?"
She sighs as she pauses the process of gathering her things. "Really, Harry."
He swallows tightly. They're silent for a moment as she grabs her jacket and throws it over her shoulders.
"Come over and we'll talk. I borrowed my friend Matt's car for the night but— yeah, you can follow me to my place or whatever. And I can't promise I'll be awake for much longer but I think clearing the air could be... good."
A rush of relief makes its way through Harry's body.
"Okay. Yeah, let's do that."
. . .
"I never said it, but you were flawless tonight."
Y/N laughs breathily as she settles onto her couch, a cup of sleepy time tea in her hand. Harry rejected her offer for one (his response had been, "Y/N, do I look like someone who drinks tea with a sleeping bear on it?") but he'd be lying if he said it didn't at least smell good.
"I fucked up on one of my jetés — I'll get yelled at for it on Monday, but otherwise I'm decently content with the performance."
"Well, you couldn't tell," Harry replies, "Seriously. You were perfect."
Her cheeks warm and she stares down at her tea. Her legs are sprawled out in front of her while Harry sits on the other edge of the couch, giving her plenty of room to stretch out.
"So... clearing the air."
Harry clears his throat and nods, prepared to embark on the speech he'd been practicing in his head for weeks. But then, she speaks.
"I'm sorry for running out on you and ignoring you," she says, keeping her gaze down in her lap. "That wasn't... I'm not the best person. I'm bad at feelings and I use ballet as a crutch. I figure it's the one thing I'm really, exceptionally good at, and that should give me a pass in life but I know that's not true. I can't just go around treating people like shit because I'm... scared."
"What are you scared of?" Harry asks through furrowed brows. "I'm sorry if I stepped out of line that night, I should've been better—"
"You didn't. You were great. You did everything perfectly," she replies with a shake of her head. Her response surprises him, but he tries to hide the shock on his face. "I'm scared because you're you. You're a hotshot hockey player and, besides this showcase, you're the only other thing I've thought about these past few weeks. That's horrifying for me."
"Is this...?" Harry attempts to roll his lips into a thin line, preventing a smirk from bursting onto his face. "Is this a very Y/N way of telling me that you like me?"
She groans, as if it's the worst thing to ever happen to her, and it makes Harry laugh.
"Don't laugh at me!" she exclaims. That only makes Harry cackle even louder as he slowly crawls over to her, taking her warm cup of tea out of her hands and placing it on the coffee table.
"You're cute when you're exasperated." he murmurs. She pouts and his eyes crinkle with a grin as he peels her shaky hands away from her face.
"You're the one exasperating me."
"I know," he replies lowly, licking his lips as his face hovers over hers, "I like it."
"This isn't us agreeing to date, by the way." she quickly tacks on. He issues out a mhm as he leans forward, testing the waters, and pressing a light kiss to her nose. "We need to take it slow. Like, painfully slow. Or else I'll freak out and run away again."
"Whatever you want." he mumbles, kissing her right cheek. "I mean it."
"And you can't just overwhelm me whenever you feel like it."
He laughs and kisses her left cheek, then her forehead.
"Okay. Any other demands?"
He stops pasting kisses to her face then, instead choosing to simply loom his lips over hers. He can feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest and watches as she swallows nervously.
"No," she finally whispers. "Just kiss me."
And so he does.
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reveluving · 5 months
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SHY WIFE AND PRICE....ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDING ME!!!!!Imagine this Adonis of a man spoiling her from the first date and even her being shy, the 141(plus Kate) KNOW who's the boss( he ALWAYS have a photo and a story about Mrs.Price and it's just the cutest thing how his eyes light up that they also love her)
CUUUUUUTE AAAAAA!! GNAWING ON MY BARS RN!! And thank you for specifying the Adonis of a man bit! Can't forget about that!! ☝🏼😌💗
Includes: tooth-rotting fluff!
COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌
Come & check out my COD m.list!
In any case of our beloved shy!wife fics, especially with his line of work, just expect your husband to have a polaroid or five of you ready.
And John is no different.
You must be a special one if you managed to catch the eyes of the captain, and to clarify, you are!
John knew there was no going back to his mundane yet chaotic lifestyle the second he asked you out. It took everything in him not to chuckle at your look of disbelief, your lips parting just a tad bit. He didn’t want you to think he was making fun of you, you were genuinely adorable with your expressiveness. And though had told him you were open to anything, even specifying that you wouldn’t mind anything small and simple, he didn’t let you.
He took you out to dinner on your first date, nothing too fancy, though that couldn’t be said the same on the later dates, gifted you a small but beautiful bouquet and the rest was history. 
And amazingly, he gets even better at spoiling you after he puts a ring on your finger. As if he wasn't already good since your first date!
Kisses or cakes, hugs or huge bouquets, he'll always find a way to spoil you. Because you—your smiles, giggles and laughs, your time and your love for him means so much.
More than you can imagine.
A sweetheart, a gentleman. You couldn’t ask for a better man to fall for you, though, like him, you were mind-blown to even think a man, no, a hunk like him showed interest in you. Made you feel wanted, special—someone he wanted to be with with zero hesitation. 
He wouldn’t be able to forget your shy smile, how you’d mindlessly trail your fingers across the table or your lap out of embarrassment, how your fingers curled around his hand, despite averting your gaze from his cheeky smile many dates later.
And though the wedding was small, to him, it felt like a sweet fairytale.
To finally be able to call you Mrs Price.
Laswell had the privilege to meet you first before everyone else. She enjoys the sisterly moments you’d have, a breath of fresh air from the craziness, to say the least, that she has to witness in her lifetime. Always appreciates you checking in on her via messages or if she’s lucky, a quick call. And it becomes a tradition of hers to jokingly remind John to take care of you and not to drive you crazy.
And then, there were the boys.
Johnny was the one who asked about you, catching the man looking at one of the polaroids of you with nothing but love in his eyes. Longing to get it over with and come home to you. Johnny didn’t think he’d be willing to talk about you at all, let alone more than a few sentences, i.e. privacy reasons or he just prefers to be on his own. Take in the quiet moment before any hell breaks loose later on.
Understandable, so imagine not only his surprise but also the rest of the 141 when he talks about you. First, with pure endearment in his tone, then the story gets romantic, cheesier even, but all three of them listened to his stories like no other (read: a father telling his kids how he met their mother), even if they acted like they were just casually fixing their weapons or thinking to themselves.
C’mon, he knows them!
Like John, you treat the boys like your very own. If Johnny, Kyle or Simon wanted to be doted over—to be cared for, something they haven’t felt in a while even if some of them wouldn’t want to admit it, then you’d give them millions! Even something as little as a handwritten message or passing them a few words i.e. take care and good luck via John.
Visiting the Price’s house now feels like a family thing. Again, it’s cheesy, it’s corny, and maybe even childish to some, for a bunch of men to be looking forward to these visits like a child being away from their parents at a dorm during college, none of you cared. Not you. Not John. And most importantly, not his boys.
None of them could have imagined your words to stick in their minds in dire times. A little motivation to return safely. Back to the base, for John, and back the Price’s home, for you.
“Johnny, I’m out of a few things in the kitchen. Could you drop by the store and get these for me, please?” “Can do!”
“Simon, have you seen John’s car keys? I can’t find them anywhere.” “I can help look for it w’you.”
“Kyle, I told you I can handle the fireplace.” “S’not that hard. Don’t worry!”
Home.
Bonus: A lil’ story I’m still working on with the COD men + dogs includes John with an American Akita. Similar to Phillip and Kai, John’s gigantic pupper tends to prefer listening to you to him.
His intolerance for certain people or animals drops in an instant the second he sees you, turning into a baby (your baby, might John add) but he also knows when duty calls. Ears tilting back and growling at a stranger who doesn’t know, or worse; ignores that you're taken.
And in John’s words: good boy.
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
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