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daydreaming-nerd · 8 days

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The Prophecy (Lucien Vanserra x Rhys! Sister)/(Azriel x Rhys! Sister) Part 3 (Azriel's Version)

Part One , Part 2

AN: "Majesty, Palo is exhausted. Because Majesty only Palo can take this (angst) and this (groveling) and give you...a masterpiece."

No fr guys I put my whole puss into this plz tell me if you liked it

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Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesn’t have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. It’s not wrong if both of your mates don’t want you right?

Warnings: angst, fluff like so much fluff, no editing (I'm so tired omg)

Word count: 9,370

We arrived in the house in silence, the only thing to fill the void was the crackling of the enchanted fire that always sprang to life whenever I walked through the door. My eyes were fixed on the floorboards, studying every grain of wood as I put together what had just happened.

I had told Azriel about the bond, and I did it in anger. I had imagined telling him a million different ways over the past 400 years but never did imagine doing it out of spite. I was just so angry with Elain and her insufferable entitlement that had me seeing red. If anyone should act in such a manner, it should be me, I was a princess after all.

I was furious with Elain there was no doubt about that, but the voice that kept echoing in my mind was Azriel’s. How he yelled at me. I had known him my whole life and I had never once been afraid of him, until today.

As if he was tired of the silence, Lucien brushed his hand under my chin bringing my gaze to his, it wasn’t until then that I realized I was crying.

“Are you okay?” he asked, brows furrowing at my tear stained cheeks.

“Yeah,” I laughed him off, wiping the water from my face.

“I’m sorry I interfered like that, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to speak to him or if you wanted me to kick his ass. But he seemed mad and I wouldn’t stand for him yelling at you.” Lucien apologized leaning against the back of the couch a good three feet away sensing I needed some space.

“I suppose that I wasn’t sure what I wanted either,” I sigh leaning against the doorframe. “Thank you for stepping in. I think it was for the best.”

“Of course, I’ll always be there for you,” Lucien nods before resuming his staredown with the floor, probably trying to make sense of everything just like I was. “Az seemed…concerned for you. I think the bond snapped for him.”

“It did,” I say, running my hand over my chest, as if I could touch the faint glow of the bond that now sat in my chest. “It clicked the moment he saw us in the kitchen.”

“Are you happy it clicked?” he asked, once again asking all the questions I truly didn’t have an answer for, at least not yet.

“I-I’m not sure.” I say honestly, knowing I didn’t need to hide my true feelings from Lu. “I’ve pictured him finding out a million ways, but over the last couple years I’ve kind of given up on the whole endeavor. I felt like I made it clear that I liked him, and he only met me with complaints about other women. First Mor and then Elain.”

“Maybe he’s changed,” Lucien pointed out.

“Even if he had it’s not because he loves me.” I murmured sadly. “You heard him in there. He only wants me because he feels entitled to me. He never once acted like he cared about me beyond being his best friend's little sister.”

“I suppose you’re right, it’s hard to forgive 400 years of cruel behavior,” Lucien muttered, still staring at that little spot on the floor.

I strode across the room and leaned against the couch with him. I wanted to say something, anything to break the silence. But it was as if all the air had been sucked from the room in one foul swoop. I had just let out a 400 year old secret and for the first time ever, our mates seemed to give a damn about us. I look to Lucien who is still processing everything and I recall how Elain was so upset to see her mate with another female.

“Elain…” I started, wanting to tread carefully. “She seemed pretty upset,” I said, only stating the obvious.

Lucien chuckled, “Yeah, I think that’s the first time she’s ever called me her mate.”

“And how do you feel about that?” I ask wanting to give him the same room to speak that he gave me. I knew if he didn’t feel like sharing he wouldn’t, Lucien was no pushover.

“I feel strangely happy,” he says and for the first time since we got back his lip curls into a half smile. “I think that she might be willing to give me a chance.”

My heart warms at the idea of Lucien finally getting to have a chance with his true mate, “I’m really happy for you Lu,” I smile, patting his hand that sat on the back of the couch.

He snaps out of his trance, “that’s not to say that you’re not- you’re a wonderful woman y/n-” he rambles.

“Hey, HEY!” I shout getting his attention. “I’m happy for you Lucien. You deserve this,” I laugh at his attempt to not hurt my feelings.

“Thank you y/n,” he smiles, grabbing my hands and squeezing them.

“What do we do now though,” I sigh looking at his family ring on my finger.

His eyes flit to the ring as well as his thumb brushes over it, “We continue on as normal, we can push back the wedding. I’m not confident in what Elain wants from me at this point and you clearly are at odds with Azriel. If things don’t work out…” he trails off thinking about hsi next words. “If things don’t work out I would still be honored to have you as my wife. I still feel like we could make eachother happy.” he says earnestly.

I look into his eyes of russet and gold and see that he truly means every word, “Okay,” I nod my voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” he agrees, keeping his voice down as well. “Shall we head to bed?” he asks.

“We shall,” I laugh, following him up the stairs.

That night we didn’t make love, we cuddled as normal though, but somehow even that felt wrong, now that the bond I prayed over for so long hummed within my chest.

While the little High Lord in training was typically quite docile, he had just learned to crawl and had begun flapping his little wings, which meant trouble was becoming the new normal. Which is exactly what had happened today…

“Nyx no!” I shouted as he reached for a heavy book on one of the bookshelves, his tiny wings helping him to gain the extra inch or two of ground he needed.

I grabbed him from underneath his shoulders and brought him into my arms, bouncing him on my hip as his eyes caught the shiny necklace I was wearing. His little hands grabbed at it and I figured it was better than a vase or another heavy book.

“Just wait till he can actually fly,” Lucien chuckled, coming up behind me.

“That won’t be for quite a while thankfully,” I laugh, bouncing the babe up and down.

“Are you so sure about that? Cassian seems to already be giving him lessons.” he points out.

“I don’t even want to think about a flying toddler,” I scoff and Lucien chuckles behind me.

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and I could feel his lips curling into a smile.“You’re going to be a great mother one day” he admitted.

“I’ve always wanted children,” I said and a beat of silence passed until I decided to be bold. “Lu, do you think we could ever have children?” I ask, afraid to turn around and possibly see a wary look on his face.

I felt Lucien’s chuckle reverberate behind me, “Of course, I’ve always been fond of children myself,” he laughed.

I whipped around with Nyx to search his eyes for a hint of uncertainty, but he seemed happy about the idea, “Really?” I asked in disbelief.

“Of course,” he assured me.

“I want a million just like little Nyx here,” I smile looking at the babe in my arms.

“Minus the wings of course,” Lucien laughs behind me and I pause.

My entire life I had always pictured my children with wings. Small, delicate little things that I would ‘ooo’ and ‘ahhh’ over. I remembered seeing the Illyrian children in Windhaven growing up, I was always so happy when mothers would let me hold their babies, their wings so adorably small. I looked forward to having winged children of my own, I always pictured them scaling Azriel when they were little like Nyx, and as they got older I would watch as Az taught them to fly.

“What is it my dear?” Lucien asked, breaking me out of my trance.

“Oh it’s nothing, it’s just that when I pictured my children I always figured they would have wings,” I say, pressing a kiss to Nyx’s temple.

As if summoned, Azriel walked in, Rhys and Feyre in tow, signaling that their meeting was over. His eyes flitted to me, no doubt having heard what I had said. Lucien’s hand tightened on my hip.

Feyre’s eyes sparkled at the sight of her son and Rhys eyes sparkled at the sight of Feyre taking their babe from my arms. I reluctantly gave Nyx back, already missing being able to pretend he was my own.

“He was a little angel,” I report to Feyre.

“If by angel you mean hellion,” Lucien chuckles behind me.

“I would expect nothing less from a child raised by this family,” Rhys laughed, wrapping one arm around Feyre and brushing a hand against his son’s cherub cheeks.

A silence rolled over the room as we all watched the little family reunite. I couldn’t help but flit my eyes to Azriel, who looked at them with a grin and a longing in his eyes. His eyes find me and I don’t dare look away.

“Can we talk?” Azriel asked timidly, taking a step away from the doorway he leaned against. Feyre and Rhys take out of the room, no doubt feeling the change in the atmosphere.

I searched his eyes for a hint of aggression but all I found was remorse, “Yes we may,” I say quietly.

Lucien releases his grip on my hip as I follow Azriel into Rhysand’s study and close the door behind me with a resolute click signaling that I was locked in here with him. Az takes up residence by Rhys’ desk, leaning against it like some sort of tortured man. I couldn’t help but notice he was still in his fighting leathers, his wings tucked in tight and his knuckles perched over his lips, like he was contemplating what to say. Even now, when he was at his most vulnerable, he was so beautiful.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted last night. I yelled at you and I shouldn’t have,” he says fidgeting a bit. “Its just… it’s just that I was so pissed when I found him with his hands all over you and you just seemed so happy.”

He sighs running a hand through his hair staring at the ground, still unable to meet my eyes.

“I think that’s what bothered me the most,” he continues. “You seemed…happy.”

“You were upset because I was happy?” I scoff furrowing my brows at him, the fucking gall of this male.

“No, no! Gods y/n,” he corrects me, running his hands down his face clearly upset with himself. “I think I was upset because I wasn’t the one making you happy.” he finally says and I can hear the vulnerability in his voice.

I’m completely taken back by his words, at the fact that he admitted that he wanted to be the one to make me happy like that. The way Lucien did. It didn’t make any sense, given the fact that he never showed me in the last 400 years.

“That’s funny coming from a male who’s been complaining to me about the females he’s been in love with for the past 400 years.” I deadpan, crossing my arms.

“Is that how long you’ve known? 400 years?” he asked me, voice rising a bit.

I nod, “I knew the night you danced with me on solistance in the Hewn City all those years ago,” I confess.

“Fuck y/n,” he groans running his hands down his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you started panting after Mor and the second you gave up on her in walked Elain!” I shouted, it was the most obvious thing ever as to why I didn’t tell him.

“You had to know that you were first,” he says, snapping his head up to meet mine, pleading in those hazel eyes.

I gave him a blank stare not knowing what he was talking about.

“Please tell me you know you were the first, before Mor, before Elain, I was practically on my knees for you,” he confessed.

Once again I’m left speechless. Could it be true? That he had wanted me before I even knew about the bond?

I shook my head, even if it was true he was speaking in past tense. I didn’t want him to be my mate because he felt like he had to be, I wanted him to love me, truly love me. I wanted him to choose me.

“I had no idea,” I admit feeling a bit of shame. “But that doesn’t matter anymore, it’s all in the past. I’m not mad at you Azriel.”

“Thank the cauldron,” he breathes, crossing the room to cup my face.

I place my hands on his wrists and pull them away from me, “Az I think that you should be with Elain,” I say, stepping back from him.

“What? No.” he shakes his head and I take another step back.

“You clearly love her and she loves you, the cauldron made a mistake by making us mates, it's as simple as that,” I say trying to hide my tears.

I loved Az, a part of me always would, but I wouldn’t be his consolation prize just because the cauldron fucked up and made me his mate instead of Elain. I couldn’t live with that.

“No don’t say that, please don’t say that,” Az pleads, his voice softening.

“I’m sorry Azriel but I won’t be your consolation prize,” I say before grabbing the door handle and walking out into the living room where Lucien was.

Azriel goes to say more until he hears the hitch in my breath. There, before me, Lucien is tucking a stray hair out of Elain’s face and placing a kiss on her knuckles. A sweet gesture, one I’ve probably read about a thousand times in my romance novels. Lucien’s eyes flit to mine, and I can honestly say I’ve never seen him so happy.

“We’re going to give it a shot,” he smiles happily, putting an arm around Elain.

“Really?” I ask looking to Elain who smiles brightly.

“Yeah we are,” she says smiling up at Lucien.

“Oh I’m so happy for you two,” I cheer before engulfing them both in a hug.

“Congrats you guys,” Azriel mutters from behind me, seemingly abandoning whatever he was going to say to me in favor of praising his friends.

Lucien chuckles at my excitement, “Don’t get too excited, we’re going to have to move my stuff out of your place today, I think it’s time I move back into the townhouse,” he smiled.

“Well what are we waiting for? Let’s get started!” I cheer, grabbing his hands to winnow us away.

In reality I wasn’t excited about the idea of moving, and much less excited about the idea of my little townhouse being empty again. But I needed to get away from Azriel.

One week later:

After the all day affair of moving Lucien’s accumulated stuff out of my house and in the townhouse I was back to loving alone. Which at first wasn’t terrible. I was content to read my book and cook for myself when necessary. But after about a week I began to miss the food Lucien would make, or having someone to lie next to. It was a strange feeling, it felt like a breakup, but I wasn’t sad. I missed having another heartbeat in the house, not Lucien himself.

After a week of getting my affairs in order my brother finally asked me for some help and I was thankful for the distraction. All week I had been in my own head about all that had happened, with Lu and Elain, with me and Az. I needed a break to think of something else.

That’s how I found myself slipping on an old day court dress and getting ready to winnow to see Helion, an old friend of mine. I was leaving the house and locking the door when I ran smack into a large chest I screamed being taken off guard.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you,” a familiar voice apologized, I turn to find Azriel standing before me.

“It’s okay, I should’ve been paying more attention,” I chuckle awkwardly. I hadn’t heard from the spymaster in a week, why would he come to talk to me now?

Azriel’s eyes furrow from where they tower over me, “Why are you dressed for the Day Court?” he inquires.

“Oh well,” I look down at the swaths of white fabric that cascaded down my body, suddenly feeling a bit exposed from off the shoulder dress. “Rhys wants me to go and schmooze Helion a little bit. Something about wanting to get him to agree to better trade deals.” I laugh remembering how my brother agonized over it the other day.

“So he wants you to go and flirt with Helion?” Az cocks an eyebrow at me.

“Well Helion and I go way back, and he’s always been…well keen on me.” I say honestly and I watch as Az bristles just a bit. I can’t even count the number of times the High Lord as tired to get Cassian and I in his bed

“I’ll give Rhys one thing he sure is ruthless,” Azriel chuckles trying to play off his nerves.

“Is there something I can do for you?” I ask, still wondering why he’s here, at my doorstep.

“Oh uh, no,” Azriel stutters. “Well actually I was walking by and I saw this and I thought of you.” he says pulling out a white rose. It looked like he had plucked it right off the bush down the street. “I thought you should have it.” he finished.

I take the rose from his hand and notice that the thorns have all been cut off. I eye Truth Teller strapped at his side and the lingering thorn that was still stuck on its sharp blade.

“That was very thoughtful of you Az thank you,” I tell him sweetly, taken back by his gesture.

“You’re welcome,” he says, seemingly relaxing at my acceptance of his gift.

I check my watch, “Well I really do have to go, Helion is waiting for me,” I wince moving past him on the stairs so I can get past the words my brother has on my place.

“Yes of course,” Az says following me down the steps and out the wrought iron fence. “Do you need a ride?”

“I’m okay, I can winnow,” I chuckle, closing the gate behind me.

“Well I guess I’ll see you later then,” Azriel voices with a hint of a sigh.

“Yeah I’m sure you will,” I reply before winnowing into Helion’s mansion.

How could Az be so calm about all this? It was like he was trying to force himself to have feelings for me, figuring he better learn to love me now that he’s shackled to me for eternity. Part of me wondered if Rhys had given him a firm talking to and convinced him to attempt to like me.

“There she is,” Helion mused from the top of the stairs coming down the stairs dressed in his usual attire. Part of me hated that I found him attractive, in another life, if he wasn’t so promiscuous, I might’ve seen myself standing by his side.

“Helion,” I smile, pulling him in for a hug.

When we pull away his hands linger at my waist and his eyes look at the rose in my hand. “What’s this?” he asks plucking the rose from my hand.

I think about the encounter with Azriel, how forced it all felt.

“It’s nothing,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

Helion tosses the flower aside before throwing his arm over my shoulder and leading me inside, “So, your brother has sent you to convince me to agree to his new trade agreements.” he smirks.

“He’s done nothing of the sort, I came to visit an old friend of my own accord,” I tease, knowing Helion isn’t as daft as Rhys makes him out to be.

“We’ll see about that new treaty after some wine, and tell your brother that next time he wants to use you against me as leverage he should just send you naked,” Helion chuckles.

I erupt in laughter, slapping his arm as he leads us to a white couch with a bottle of wine sitting on the coffee table.

Three days later after successfully getting Helion to agree to a new trade treaty I found myself sitting in my living room with a glass of wine enjoying the fruits of my labors. As soon as I told Rhys about the High Lord of Day’s cooperation he sent me one of his finest bottles of wine as a thank you. Not that I required any thanks, I enjoyed spending time with Helion.

My silence was interrupted by my door opening and closing. I just about jumped out of my skin, the only one who had the key to the place was Lucien and he had given it back a long time ago. My heart pounded as I stood from the couch in my nightgown and robe. I had turned in for the night and certainly wasn’t expecting visitors. I lift my romance novel over my head and step around he couch ready to swing when I see Azriel locking the door behind him quietly.

“Azriel you scared the hell out of me,” I sigh, lowering the book.

He turns from the door looking me up and down taking in my casual attire hungrily. “I’m sorry I guess I’m just used to walking right in, I wanted to give you these,” he says holding out a large bouquet of white roses, exactly like the kind he gave me the other day.”

“Thank you Az, they’re beautiful,” I say wearily, taking them from his scarred hands. “I’ll uh- I’ll just put them in water,” I tell him, padding into the kitchen to grab a vase and fill it.

“I thought since you liked the other one I gave you that you might like those ones too,” he says walking into the kitchen and leaning in my doorway.

I place the two dozen roses in a vase,“Well I appreciate them, it’s been a while since I’ve had fresh flowers in the house,” I divulge to him, remembering how Lucien used to bring them home all the time. He would always ask for Elain to make him a bouquet, his little way of speaking to her in a way that didn’t make her uncomfortable. The thought had me thinking of how Lucien and Elain were probably sitting at a nice dinner right now, had me questioning why the fuck Azriel was here.

A silence fills the room as Azriel sits admiring either me or the flowers, from where I’m standing it could be either or. I walk around the kitchen island to test the theory and sure enough his eyes follow me as I lean my back against the side closer to him. A wave of embarrassment slips over me. Did Rhys ask him to bring more flowers again? Was I really that pathetic?

“Az why are you doing this?” I ask, gesturing to the flowers behind me.

Azriel straightens taking a tentative step towards me, “Because I want what Elain and Lucien have. I want you to give me a chance to be a good mate,” he says softly.

I look to the wooden floors below me, my bare feet messing with a loose floorboard, “You don’t have to do this Azriel. If Rhys sent you I’ll just cover for you and say you came.” I say not daring to look at him.

“I’m not here because of Rhys, I’m here because I want to see you,” he implored and I heard his feet shuffle closer.

“I’m still not your consolation prize just because Lucien and Elain are doing well. I won’t do that to myself,” I say, continuing to mess with the loose floorboard.

“You’re not my consolation prize y/n, you’re my mate.” Azriel states, his voice becoming more urgent causing me to tighten my arms around myself ever so slightly.

His boots come into my line of sight and suddenly he’s titling my chin up to meet his pleading gaze. I’m suddenly all too aware of how underdressed I was. There was a time when I would’ve killed for this. But now? I won’t let myself be hurt again.

“Y/n please-”

“Azriel I’m at peace,” I snap, cutting him off and looking down at our feet once again even though his hand still rested under my chin. “For the first time in 400 years I’m at peace. I have loved, and pined, and thrown myself at your feet for 400 years, and I am finally happy in my exile. So forgive me if I’m hesitant to give that up so quickly because you all of the sudden want a mate.” I bit out.

His shadows dance around my hands and I move my fingers out of their grasp, like their cold kiss was burning me.I wait for him to say something back, for him to breathe wrong, yell at me or leave but he doesn’t move. I let my eyes flit up to his, and I find him staring down at me, like he’s been waiting for me to look at him this whole time.

“I’m not going to give up,” he states, if he was sad or upset by my previous words he doesn’t show it.

I sigh, tossing my head back, “Az please,” I beg.

“No I’m serious, I’m not giving up on you, on us,” he maintained steadfastly, his hands not leaving my cheek as he steps even closer to me and my back hits the cool granite behind me.

“Azriel I think you should go,” I grit out, the second my body stiffens under his he steps back giving me my space.

“Alright I’ll go,” he says, taking a step back.

I follow him to the door and hold it open as he steps out into the cool night air that has me wrapping my silk robe around me tighter, as if it was helping anything anyways.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he assures me before shooting off into the sky.

“I really wish you wouldn’t!” I shout into the air after him before slamming the door and locking it.

I take a deep breath once I’m seated on my couch again, trying to salvage any sort of peace I might still have. But that tranquility was disappearing in my hands the more I chased it.

The following day I head to Rhys’ house to talk over the new adjustments in the Day Court trade agreements. It was supposed to be easy enough, but as things got more and more complex it ended up being an all day thing. By the time I walked up the steps to my own townhouse I was exhausted and starving. I wasn’t looking forward to bread for dinner as I had no time to go to the market today.

I kicked open the door and locked it behind me, the smell of fresh tomatoes and basil wafted through the air causing me to pause in my tracks. Was Lucien here? Had him and Elain gotten in a fight or something?

“Ah shit!” I heard a male cuss followed by the searing of liquid on a burner.

I curiously walk around the corner of the kitchen where I’m greeted with the sight of Azriel, standing in my apron, reading my cookbook and stirring some sort of sauce. His shadows were helping him turn the pages of the book. I see the spilled sauce on the burner that was the cause of his profanity just moments ago.

“There you are,” he smirked, his eyes flitting up to mine before reading the book again.

“Az what are you doing here?” I ask, setting my bag down on the table.

“Making you dinner,” he said, gesturing to the numerous used pans and utensils lying around my once clean kitchen.

I walk over to inspect what he’s cooking. Fresh herb crusted chicken cooks in the pan next to him while he stirs a red sauce. In the sink is cooked pasta sitting next to freshly sauteed green beans. I inhale the smell of the food deeply and I can’t help but feel myself salivate a little, it smells delicious.

“You always dog ear the recipes you want to try but you never make them for fear of not liking them,” he says nonchalantly as he prods at the chicken.

I look down at the cookbook he’s reading, sure enough the recipe he’s making has a bent corner. I had been itching to try it but had never found the time.

“If you end up not liking it there’s take out from Rita’s in the ice box,” he said using the spoon to point to the ice box in the corner of the room.

I look up to fully inspect him. This all feels like a ridiculous practical joke. If someone had told me that my spymaster would be cooking me dinner I would’ve laughed in their face. Upon further inspection I realize he’s shirtless, save for my apron he’s wearing.

“Was the half nudity necessary?” I cock an eyebrow leaning against the counter.

Azriel barked out a laugh, “It took me a while to find the apron, I had gotten tomato juice on my shirt when I started chopping them up for the sauce so I took it off and washed it,” he explained the corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk. “Plus I figured the whole shirtless bit might win me more brownie points with you.”

I rolled my eyes at his cockiness, I didn’t dare let him know how right he was.

He laughed at my reaction, “Why don’t you go sit down, dinner’s almost ready.” he said gesturing to the couch.

I shrugged my shoulders and padded my way over to my favorite reading spot. The one he found me in yesterday. I plop down on the velvet sofa and there in front of me on the coffee table, my book has been left open to the place I bookmarked and a glass of wine sits for me. I raise an eyebrow but decide to just roll with it, I pick up the book and sip on the wine, becoming engrossed with the story.

A few minutes later I feel the cold begin to bite at my toes. I look around for a blanket and see that the nearest one is across the room. I curse at the idea of having to move, but before I can even set my book down one of Azriel’s shadows is scurrying across the room to retrieve the knitted blanket for me. The wisp of darkness arranges the blanket neatly over my legs, tucking me in like a mother would her child. I can’t help but laugh at the care the little thing is putting into the job.

Azriel’s shadows looking out for me was nothing new, the second the bond clicked for me they tended to stay near me. Picking up pens and silverware I dropped on the floor and always twirling around my hair and wrists. There were even times they would try to drag Az near me, like on starfall and solstice, nights I looked especially beautiful. But he would always curse and wave them off until they left him alone.

The little shadow perched itself on my shoulder as if it too wanted to read my book. I could sense it was trying to anticipate any other small need I might have.

“You know he might be insufferable but you guys are pretty great,” I laugh looking at the curious being.

In response the shadow boops itself on my nose as if it was giving me a kiss.

“Don’t tell them that or they’ll get a big head,” Azriel murmurs behind me where he’s leaning against the doorway between the living room and the kitchen, still shirtless and wearing that damned apron.

“In that case I’ll be sure to praise them more often, they’re little angels,” I smile as the tendril of darkness dances around my collar.

Azriel lets out a small chuckle behind me, “Dinner is ready,” he tells me before disappearing into the kitchen once more.

I follow him as the small shadow frantically pulls at my wrist towards the table, as if it’s eager for me to see what it helped its master cook. When I walk into the darkened kitchen and find that Az has set the table not only with our dinner but with candles and another bouquet. This time it’s an arrangement of jasmine, no doubt from the florist down the street.

I sit down and inhale the heavenly scent of the white flowers and hum in delight. Azriel comes in with a bottle of wine and two glasses, pouring us each a bit. He sees me admiring the flowers and smiles.

“Jasmine, like your perfume,” he says, putting down the bottle and taking his seat next to me.

I smile and look down at the plate before me. It looks delicious, the pasta is fragrant with basil, the chicken is cooked to perfection and the green beans are vibrant and green. I lift my fork and dig into the past first. The moment it hits my tongue the flavor melts in my mouth, rich, bold and oh so savory. I let out a moan as my eyes flit to Azriel who is watching me expectantly wondering if I’m going to like it or not.

“This is incredible,” I say, covering my mouth with my hand so he doesn’t see me chewing.

“Thank the cauldron I thought I put too much red pepper in,” he breathes out, seemingly relaxing before digging into his own plate.

��No it’s perfect, thank you really,” I say earnestly.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled, taking a bite of chicken.

We sit and eat our meals in silence simply enjoying the good food. A little shadow flitted up in front of my face to gauge my reaction to the bite of chicken I was chewing. I couldn’t help but laugh as it shifted like it was cocking its head at me.

“Yes it’s very good, you did a wonderful job,” I laugh at the little fella.

My giggle brings Azriel’s attention to me once again and before I know it he’s waving his hand at the little tendril like he’s swatting a fly.

“Hey go away let her eat for the love of god,” he chastises as the shadow slinks back behind him.

“Don’t worry it wasn’t bothering me,” I laugh taking another bite of green beans.

“Yeah well they haven’t been listening lately,” he says looking back at the little shadow that had slinked behind his shoulder like a reprimanded child.

I shake my head at the two of them interacting and take another sip of wine. To be honest I wasn;t really sure what to say to Azriel. Despite his valiant efforts to win me I still wasn’t ready to abandon the peace I had grown so fond of.

“You know it’s funny,” he tells me, playing with the food on his plate. “I feel like my shadows have always liked you. It was like they knew before I did,” he laughed nervously at his confession.

“Maybe so,” I shrug, not wanting to broach the subject, the friendlier we could make this the better.

“I can remember times when they would drag me into any room that had you in it. Most of the time I control them, but when it comes to you? They control me.” he laughs while taking a sip of his wine.

“Thank you again for dinner,” I say, forcibly changing the topic of conversation. “It’s been a while since I had a home cooked meal. I think the local restaurants have my to-go orders memorized now.” I laugh.

“Lucein used to cook for you didn’t he?” Azriel asks, and I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my head as I play with the pasta on my plate.

“Yeah he did, he was a surprisingly good cook too,” I say, recalling the traditional Autumn Court meals he would cook all the time. They were mostly for him, for when he was feeling nostalgic, but he always left some for me as well.

Azriel sits for a moment as if debating whether or not to say something for a moment. “Did you love him?” he asks.

My fork clatters to the plate at the abrupt question and I’ve never felt so put on the spot. It was never something I had thought about in regards to the autumn court male. Love seemed like an emotion that would be reserved for Azriel and Azriel alone, until one day it wasn’t. I didn’t love Lucien, but I certainly stopped loving Az in that way, or at least I think I did.

“No I didn’t” I say honestly turning to meet the shadowsingers gaze. “Lucien and I… it was never like that. We both knew what we needed for each other, it started as just sex. But then he would stay the night, and then we started going to breakfast. His shirts started showing up in the laundry hamper, his books on the coffee table. Eventually I just gave him a key, it seemed like the logical thing to do. We didn’t even label our relationship until he asked me to marry him.”

“I wasn’t sure,” Azriel said, going back to shyly staring down at the table. “I overheard your conversation that one day. When you asked him about the possibility of having children. You said that you always pictured your children having wings, was that true?” he inquired.

I nod shallowly, unable to trust my own words in such a raw moment.

If Az had any other questions he didn’t ask them or press me to talk about the two of us, it was as if he was happy with the answers I did give him. He was perfectly content to let me finish eating my meal in comfortable silence. When I was finished he cleared the table and didn’t let me lift a finger to help clean. Instead those pesky shadows cornered me into reading my book once more.

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that he came in, dressed in his shirt once more to bid me goodnight. He insisted that I stay in my comfortable spot by the couch as he walked himself out locking the door behind him. As the comfortable silence, which I had grown so used to, ensued, I found myself silently wishing he had stayed just a little longer.

The following weeks were spent with little visits from shadows and shadowsingers. Sometimes it would be Azriel showing up at my door with coffee or gifts. Other times, when Rhys had Azriel on missions he would find ways to leave things at my doorstep. The first time it was another bouquet of flowers and then chocolates.

My favorite gift from Azriel had been the books. The first set he got me was the second and third book in my series. They appeared at my door the morning after he made me dinner with a note that read…

I noticed that you were almost done with your book last night so I went out to get you the second book. I noticed it was a short book so I got you the third in case you finished it in one day like you no doubt will.

-Azriel

Of course he was right and I finished the second book by the end of the day. When I opened the third, and much longer book, to begin reading it a bookmark fell out and another note.

I figured you might need a bookmark for this one.

-Azriel

He was right about that as well.

The next book to be delivered was a classic romance with certain pages, and quotes underlined. His notes scribbled in the margins. Clearly he had taken the time to read the novel himself. When I saw the first annotation I expected his further notes to be corny or cheesy, but each one was well thought out.

The most recent literally delivery was a small and short book about different types of flowers. Between each of the pages sat a live flower that corresponded with the page. It was possibly the most vibrant and beautiful bouquet I had ever seen and by far my favorite floral gift I had received.

This week though things had been different. As the colder months were drifting in I started spending more time inside, reading by the fire. But not once had Azriel stopped by. Not a present, not a note to be found. When I subtly asked Rhys were the shadowsinger was he told me he was in the isle of Hybern.

A week had come and gone without so much as a tendril of a shadow to be seen. I sat infront of my roaring fire with a book in hand trying to escape the bitter cold. Outside the first snowfall of the year had taken the form of a blizzard. I pitied the shopkeepers that would have to walk home in it.

Around midnight I heard the scraping of metal against stone from outside my house. I jumped out of my skin and quickly looked at the clock noting the late hour. I set down my novel to wrap myself in a blanket and pad over to the front door. I could already hear the winds outside and feel the cold air seeping in through the cracks in the door.

I open the door to investigate the strange sound and I nearly gasp when I find Azriel outside my house shoveling my walkway with a small shovel from my garden. One meant for digging out plants and trees, not snow.

“Az what are you doing?” I ask, making the spymaster jump a bit.

“I’m shoveling your walkway. I didn’t want you to slip tomorrow morning or hurt your back trying to shovel it yourself,” he said, digging into the snow again with the little metal shovel.

“Oh Az you don’t have to do that,” I coo walking out into the cold pulling my blanket tighter.

“I don’t have to but I want to,” he said shoveling more snow. “It wouldn’t take so long if I had a bigger shovel.” he grunts, frustrated.

“Well why didn’t you take Rhys’ shovel?” I laughed watching as the overgrown Illyrain tried to mangle the tiny thing.

“Well I just got back from Hybern, I saw it had snowed and I came here first.” he explained and my heart swelled. He had come to my place first before he even went home. “I figured if I didn’t do it you would fall and break your head open.”

“Azriel, really you don’t have to do this, I can handle it,” I plead with him feeling bad that he’s subjected himself to the weather.

He stops his shoveling and turns to look at me, “y/n I want to do this. Don’t worry about it.” he says before looking me up in down seeing that I’m in nothing but a short nightgown and a blanket. “Now go inside before you catch a cold.”

“Me? What about you?” I laugh looking around at the snow falling around us.

“I’m Illyrian the snow doesn’t bother me,” he retorts and I can tell that he’s lying by the pink in his cheeks from the cold.

“Well I’m half Illyrian,” I counter, swinging back and forth on my heels.

“Then I’m sure half of you is really cold,” he rebuttals. “Now go back inside and get warm before I carry you inside myself.” he smirks before shoveling up another heap of snow.

I just shake my head and retreat to the warm fireplace awaiting me.

I waltz into the House of Wind where the Solstice party is in full swing. Lords from neighboring courts are chatting and drinking all around and from the corner of the room I can hear Cassian’s booming laugher as he doubles over at something Helion has said.

Like almost every solstice party I arrive fashionably late. I truly never mean to be the last to arrive, but it feels like the whole guest list decides to arrive early just to spite me. I make my way around the area where couples and children are dancing to a small quartet and head toward the bar. My dress billows behind me like liquid starlight. Just like every solstice party before this one, I will get by with copious amounts of wine.

I lean against the bar and watch as Elain and Lucien laugh and giggle across the room. I smile as Elain pops a pastry into Lu’s mouth and I can’t help but feel a warmness in my chest at the two of them. Lucien was finally happy with his mate, and if there was ever someone who deserved such happiness it was him.

My thoughts are interrupted by a shadowy friend making its presence known. Flying up by my face to say hello and then rushing behind me as if it was called. I turn to see Azriel dressed immaculately staring at me. His eyes flit up and down my body taking in every detail of me.

“You look…” He trails off, shaking his head, as if the words he was going to say wouldn’t be the right ones. “There are no words. Even the poets would get it wrong.”

I can’t help but blush at his choice of words, taking a step toward him as the shadows behind me are pushing me to do so.

“You clean up pretty good yourself, spymaster,” I chuckle giving him a once over.

He blushes and then speaks again, “I mean it, you look beautiful tonight y/n.”

I blush again and turn my head to avoid his gaze, like that shade of hazel might burn me from the inside out if I look too long.

“You must allow me to dance with you,” he says, taking both our drinks and placing them on the bar. “Not having you out on that dance floor would be a disservice to everyone here.”

I laugh taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to lead me to the dancefloor, “Alright Az you’ve convinced me, but only because I know you won’t step on my feet,”

We fall into a comfortable motion, swaying back and forth to the slow tempoed song the quartet is playing. The couples around us filter around us, some lost in deep conversation, some embraced closely swaying to the song. I keep my eyes on them, knowing that Azriel’s gaze is on me.

Memories of a solstice much like this one float through my mind. The way my feet ached before Azriel saved me, sweeping me up into a dance. The way the bond felt when it snapped into place for me. I had pulled on it so desperately hoping he might feel it too. I thought of all the years of agony that followed that night. Watching Az fall for Mor and later on Elain. Hearing my brother and Cassian talking about Azriel’s exploits in bedding local women. All of it tore me apart and it took over 200 years to rebuild the part of me that I had lost. I wondered if I would ever be whole like that again.

I hear Elain and Lucien’s laughter once more, the sound breaking me from my thoughts as Azriel and I continue to sway to the music.

“They make a great couple,” Azriel’s deep voice rumbles through me.

I smile watching Lucine place a kiss to his mates lips, “They really do,” I say with a lightness to my voice.

“Do you think we’ll ever be like that?” He asks tentatively and my world comes crashing down.

“Az,” I say and his face falls at the dismissal in my tone.

“Why not y/n? Why can’t we have a shot like they can?” Azriel says starting to get upset.

As if on queue the song that the quartet is playing ends and I hear the musicians flipping through their sheet music to find the next song. I pull my hands out of Azriel’s and take a few steps back.

“I think it’s time for me to go,” I say calmly, trying not to let the damn of tears break. I swiftly move past him towards the door.

“Y/n wait!” I hear him call out behind me but I’m already out the door, my tears falling down my face as I make my way back to that empty townhouse in the middle of the city.

The rain outside my house slams into the window violently. Spring has come early in Velaris and I wasn’t exactly upset about it. At least I wasn’t until this torrential downpour blew into town. I hadn’t seen rain like this in the Night Court for at least a hundred years now.

It’s been weeks since solstice and it seems that Azriel has finally taken the hint and left me alone. I hadn’t heard a peep from him since that dance. Not a flower, chocolate or shadow to be seen and while I should be happy about it I had never been sadder. After all the walls I put up trying to keep my peace it seemed that he had succeeded in breaking them down again.

I sat by the fire staring down at the dancing flames, no book, not even a glass of wine or tea. Just me and my all consuming thoughts. Each one of them led back to hazel eyes and blue siphons.

I jump at the sound of a fist pounding on my door. Pulling my sweater tighter to cover up my nightgown I walk over to investigate who would have the guts to stand out in this monsoon at this hour. When I open the door I find Azriel bracing his arms against the doorframe, out of breath like he ran here. His hair soaking wet and sticking to his brow as the rain pelted him.

“Az?” I shout over the sound of rain.

“I can’t go on like this any longer y/n, I won’t do it!” he shouts over the storm.

“Az it’s pouring what are you-”

“I love you y/n!” he shouts stopping me mid sentence. “From the moment I met you I knew. I wanted so badly to put my hands around your waist and kiss you. And if you’re wondering why that seems like such an adolescent dream it’s because that’s what we both were. I was 117 years old and you were 115 and that’s all I wanted. I knew little of love, even less of lust. All I knew was that I wanted to kiss you,” he hollers over the sound of rain wiping the water from his eyes.

“I’ve made mistakes, and I’ve hurt you, but I swear to you I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, because I love you. And I don’t care that you don’t love me too, because I love you y/n. I choose to love you!” he finishes and I can’t tell if it's rain falling from his eyes or tears that match my own.

I choose to love you.

I take a shaky breath and take in the sheer desperation on his face, “I love you too Azriel,” I laugh feeling another tear slip down my cheek.

He doesn’t waste a moment, stepping through my threshold and cupping my cheek to place a searing kiss on my lips. I melt into him, feeling his clothes soaking my own as my nightgown clings to my skin. His hands are on my waist, scarred and cold from the elements but still so intoxicating. My arms wrap around him pulling him further into the entryway. I hear him slam the door shut with his boot drowning out the sound of rain leaving only the music of our ragged breaths as he kisses me deeper.

He pulls away to press his forehead to mine, his wet hair and skin causing drops of water to cascade down my own face.

“I love you so much,” he breathes cupping my cheek to press a chaste kiss to my lips. “My mate.”

I pull him in deeper at the utterance of those two little words. I had waited 400 years for this male to kiss me, and this kiss right here? Well it made everything all the more worth it.

Epilogue: 5 years later

I stand outside on the lawn of the townhouse. My arms clutching around the sweater I’m wearing as the fresh spring air blows over my skin. My hands drift lower to the small bump of my stomach.

I was only a few months pregnant and barely starting to show. Elain had told me that it would be a girl claiming she had seen it in a vision. I couldn’t have been more excited for Azriel to be a girl dad.

“You’re doing it son!” I hear my mate call from the sky where he teaches our son to fly.

“Dad, I'm flying!” the onyx haired child shouted as he flapped his wings to pick up some speed.

At first I was apprehensive of him learning to fly so early, even though it had always been a dream of mine to watch my children learn to fly. But Azriel had assured me that the youngster was more than ready, and after a few weeks of lessons here he was taking to the air like a natural.

I look around at the townhouse behind me. It had seen some significant changes since the night Azriel stood in the rain and told me he loved me. The front yard was littered with toy swords and shields, and the outside had a fresh coat of paint. The inside had a room addition, a room for our son, Kai, and now we're adding another room for our daughter. All paid for by Rhys of course who was more than happy to give his nephew and niece everything under the sun.

My thoughts are interrupted by Azriel slamming into the ground before me. I turn to see him walking over to me with a smile on his face.

“Az shouldn’t you be up there with him?!” I fuss looking to where our son swoops and dives through the air.

Azriel laughs and picks me up bridal style, pressing a kiss to my lips.

“It didn’t feel right being up there without my girls,” he smiled nodding to my bump.

Without warning he took off into the sky meeting Kai up there. We must’ve spent hours flying around the city, stopping by every uncle and aunt's house to show them Kai’s new skill. Everything was perfect, and for the first time in my whole life, I finally knew peace.

(Do you guys want a smutty bonus chapter of what they did after he confessed his love???)

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justauthoring · 4 months

Text

too early.

you wanted him to live a long life, even if that meant without you

a/n: whos ready for some angstttt woop woop!

tw: minor spoilers for the manga(?), death

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

“Satoru.”

“I know.”

with barely concealed tears, you glance up at him through blurred vision. your shoulders feel heavy, and your heart hurts and Gojo knows that—of course he knows. Yet, there isn’t a single thing he can do.

He can’t change what’s happened.

“I didn't want you here.”

And he just smiles. in that way that Gojo always has. It’s bright, despite the darkness that swallows you both, and it’s genuine as his eyes sparkle down at you. He smiles even as everything hurts, even as everything else is nothing but a cold, dark space that you’ll never leave and now, neither will he.

“But I'm here.”

Biting your lip, you step towards him.

“You’re insufferable.”

“I know.”

“And annoying.”

“Yup.”

“And you never know when to shut up.”

“But…” and he pauses for effect, face in yours so you can’t look away as his bright (and unfortunately, beautiful) eyes stare back at you with a twinkle of mischief. He’s leaning to meet your height, and he’s grinning far and wide, lips stretched out as he barely contains his own enjoyment. “You love me.”

And, regrettably, you do.

Rolling your eyes, you press a hand to his cheek, pushing him away as you groan.

“As if.”

The words are a blatant lie and both of you know that.

But you’re not ready to admit yet that your feelings for your fellow classmate are anything other than platonic. You think, maybe, hopefully, he isn’t either.

(He isn’t).

So, you’ll continue to deny it. Feign annoyance and disgust when really your heart beats madly within your chest, showing no sign of stopping anytime soon, and your cheeks burn, dusted rose across the apples of your cheeks. It’s all there, plain to see, but you plead obliviousness and Gojo does the same.

Obliging to you, he steps back, chuckling to himself.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, more to himself than anyone. “As if.”

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

Blinking, you turn to Gojo. “You mean when you laughed at me… to my face.”

Frowning, Gojo shakes his head; “that is not what happened.”

“That is in fact what happened,” you correct, shaking your head at him. He’s sitting in front of you, sitting the wrong way on a chair as he leans on the corner of one of the legs dangerously (and you swear he will end up falling soon). You’d been trying to catch up on some homework when Gojo had found you in the empty classroom and had promptly decided you were to occupy him for the time being.

(Geto was out on a mission).

But, he’s brought with him some candy and even if he whined every time you did, you still proceeded to invite yourself to a couple gummies every once in a while.

So, his annoyance is forgivable.

(And really, you don’t mind, if you’re being honest.)

“I introduced myself to you, you took one look at me, called me ‘weak’ and laughed.” You explain, sending him a deadpanned look.

Gojo continues to stare back at you like you’re lying (the audacity), before he blinks, as if thinking back. The grin on his face falters somewhat as the memory resurfaces, and he blinks back at you, looking oddly apologetic.

Not a look Gojo wears very often.

“Well, I take it back.”

You’re halfway through stealing one of his gummies when you pause, hand left stretched out before you as you stare back at him.

“What?”

“You’re not weak,” he shrugs, “and I shouldn’t have laughed at you. Obviously, I’m still stronger than you,” you roll your eyes, “but I take it back.”

Raising a brow, you squint at him. “Are you trying to apologize?”

“Maybe?”

“The answer is yes or no, Gojo.”

“...Yes.”

It’s more honest than you’re expecting. If you’re being truthful, this whole conversation is not what you’d expected at all.

But still, he’s apologizing, in his own way, and he seems to mean it. It didn’t really bother you all that much all that more–it was a long time ago and Gojo was just like that, though you’ll admit he’s lessened his smugness a little bit through the time you’ve known him. At least when he’s with you, he does, and he doesn’t make you feel like a infuriable piece of trash next to him, so, you know, he’s making the right steps.

(All the right steps).

“Well,” you settle on eventually, grabbing your gummies. “Apology accepted.”

And really, his grin is bright enough to forget that his apology was pretty lousy.

“Ow.”

“It’s not my fault you got hurt.”

Pouting, you turn away from Gojo, not wanting to look at his face currently because if you have to see his smirk one more time you swear you’re going to strangle him—

“Lift your arm,” he’s calling, a hand wrapping around your wrist to guide the motion. Your lips part at the touch, hating the flutter of nerves that hits you, letting your head rest in your other hand as you listen to him, lifting your arm, and letting him move it until it’s resting on his shoulder.

You stare back at him then.

“You should’ve let me come with you.”

Huffing, you roll your eyes. “I thought you said I’m not weak.”

“You’re not,” he says plainly, pulling at your shirt to place the bandage at your side. Your cheeks warm when you realize he’s seeing skin he’s never seen before, swallowing thickly at the feeling of his fingers ghosting across sensitive skin. It’s enough to pull goosebumps, and you hope he doesn’t notice them.

(He does).

“I’m just the strongest.”

Shoulders falling, you decide to watch him. “It’s not that bad.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“That’s why I said I should find Shoko.”

“She’s not here.”

“Oh.”

(She is–Gojo wants to take care of you).

“Still,” you say after a moment, “it doesn’t hurt.”

He glares at you. “You were hissing not a minute ago.”

“That’s cause you pressed on it!” You argue, shifting in your seat as you ignore his heavy gaze. “You’re very heavy-handed, I’ll have you know. And no skill in cleaning wounds either. I swear, it hurts more now then it did before so–”

You stop rambling when you realize he’s finished patching the wound and is simply staring at you.

“So… yeah,” you finish lamely.

(You can’t think all that well when he looks at you like that).

“Don’t push yourself too hard,” he says after a moment. His voice is oddly serious in a way it rarely is with Gojo. Though, it feels like recently, Gojo sounds more worried and serious with you than he had before.

You don’t want to think about what that could mean.

(You don’t want to get your hopes up).

“You shouldn’t go on missions where you’ll get hurt.”

“It’s my job, Gojo.” You remind, “I don’t have much of a choice.”

“You do,” he says sharply. “I’ll make it so.”

Licking your lip, you stare at the worry in his eyes. Gojo was very rarely expressive in his emotions and you’ve come to learn that he often hid the way he really felt; but sometimes it felt like you were the only one who really saw how he felt. Because he’d look at you like this, with a furrow in his brow and concern in his gaze and it’d leave you stunned.

Stunned in the way you couldn’t speak.

“Okay,” you whisper, forcing the words out because that’s what you settle on. That’s all you can settle on. “I won’t.”

“Gojo–!”

His back is turned to you, shoulders tensed, his hands clenched by his sides. Whatever you’d been about to say dies on the tip of your tongue because what do you say?

How could you ever say something that would be enough to fix what’s happened?

But still, you want to try. You can’t just leave it alone. Not after what had happened. You couldn’t even begin to think how he must be feeling, the confusion and hurt and rage that must be flooding through him.

And if you could in any way soothe that, you had to try.

(Little did you know, you’d done just that the second you’d called for him).

“I’m…” You hesitate, stepping towards him with a hand stretched out uselessly before him. Even if you wanted to touch him, you couldn’t–not with his infinity… “I’m so sorry.”

Gojo stays still. The slight rise and fall of his shoulders as he takes even shallow breaths is the only inclination that he’s alive and breathing and listening.

“I heard about… about Geto–I was called away on a mission so I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier,” you explain, your words rambling as you try to sort through the chaos of thoughts in your mind. You’d never had to comfort Gojo before–did he even want to be comforted? Did he want to be comforted by you?

You doubted it.

(He did).

“I’m so sorry.”

And you truly are even if the words mean nothing to him. Even if he doesn’t care that you’re sorry.

You still are.

You blink, eyes falling to your feet, and you’re starting to think you should just leave. Gojo clearly didn’t want you there or to hear you ramble, and it was silly of you to think that you of all people would be able to help someone like him.

Then, there are arms wrapping around your shoulders and you’re pressed flush against a strong chest.

“Gojo–”

He just shakes his head, holding you tighter and understanding, you close your mouth, letting the words you’d been about to say die out.

Because Gojo didn’t want you to speak and he surely didn’t want to either. It was easier to be silent but better to be silent with you. You made it all a little more bearable and if he was honest with himself, you always had.

He just hadn’t known how much until now.

So, instead, you let yourself ease, moving to wrap your arms around him in return, and his head is moving to cradle into the crook of your neck, his nose pressed against the skin as he lets out the faintest, softest, shuddering breath.

You move to press a hand against the back of his head, and squeeze in the hopes it helps even just a little (—it does and more).

“Can I just–fuck it.”

Before you can even realize, his lips are pressed against your own.

Warm, soft lips against yours, his hands finding purchase on your waist as you tense at the contact, stunned, your brain lagging as you try to process what’s happening. A second ago Gojo had been chatting your ear off as normal, the two of you alone in your dorm as you often found yourselves now, because Shoko rarely had time now because of her role in Jujutsu High and Geto… well, Geto just wasn’t there.

Gojo was busy too. Really busy. And you were too. Maybe not as much, but in your own way.

Gojo made sure any free time he did have was spent with you though. You return the sentiment with ease.

It felt natural, after all.

And yeah, maybe you’d admit the two of you had been dancing around these feelings for a long time. You can’t count on both hands the amount of times Shoko has begged you to just kiss the man already if you were going to make love eyes at him all the time (her words).

There were other instances too, but they were too painful to remember.

You’d known for a long time the way you felt about Gojo, but you didn’t want to mess up what the two of you had. And that had been at first, before it had developed into this comraderie you only could find in him—and you definitely didn’t wanna mess that up by letting your emotions get in the way. So, you just… didn’t. It was comfortable, this bond the two of you had developed and the idea of losing that was too heartbreaking.

Chances were scary when it could destroy everything.

So you didn’t take any.

(Gojo was tired of not taking any).

He’s pulling back before you can move, slightly breathless as he smiles faintly down at you. “The point is to kiss me back, you know.”

And you blink, once, twice, before his words register and you gape up at him.

“I-I–!” You can’t find the words, feeling like your mind is short-circuiting as you stare up at him. Because it was so like him to be so smug when he’d just kissed you without confirming how you felt in return. It was so like him to just know that you were completely and wholeheartedly in love with him.

(Probably because he was too).

His hands are still on your waist and he’s close, more close than he’s ever been. You can feel his breath against your cheeks, and you’re sure you’re bright red, but you don’t want to pull away and you desperately want him to kiss you back.

Reaching forward, you decide Gojo’s words are all too fitting and to fuck it—you tug at his shirt, leaning to meet his lips.

He chuckles as you do, laugh warm and husky and it makes your knees feel weak as your lips meet his once more, eyes fluttering shut.

(It was, truly, everything you’d ever dreamed about).

And as you both pull away once more, breathless, he leans his forehead against your own and you run your fingers through the hairs on the back of his neck, laughing lightly.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you confess, turning to glance up at him.

Gojo grins; “me too.”

“So we were waiting for nothing?”

He shrugs; “guess so. But it doesn’t matter now.”

Your brows furrow, shaking your head as he shuffles closer, squeezing your hips.

“Because now I can kiss you whenever I want.”

“I’m gonna go speak to that Megumi kid tomorrow.”

Pausing at Gojo’s words, you close the book you’d been reading, shifting on the bed next to him to face him better. He’s already looking at you, tired eyes focused on your own as you nod at him. “Okay.”

“Just okay?” He asks, as if almost hesitantly. “I could end up with a kid depending on what he says.”

You nod. “I know.”

Gojo seems puzzled, head tilting as he leans over to his side rather than his back. His hand falls on your arm, grip gentle. “You’re okay with that?”

“I am,” you answer. “I want you to do what you think is right.”

“Even if it means bringing a random kid home?”

Snorting, you nod again. “Yes, Satoru. Even if it means bringing a kid home.”

“We’d have to… raise him,” he explains, the words sharp and uncomfortable on his tongue. “Or, at least, pay for him to live. Something like that.”

You laugh, reaching forward to cup his cheek. “Whatever you decide, I’m okay with.”

Gojo still seems skeptical. He eyes you like he’s sure there’s some hidden meaning behind your words or worried you might change your mind suddenly.

(You’d decided long ago you’d follow him to the ends of the earth if that’s what he decided).

“...You’re sure?”

Smiling, you hum; “yes.”

“Okay…” He says slowly, eyes flickering back to you once more just to make sure.

You just giggle, leaning into him and letting your head rest on his shoulder.

“Remember I have that mission tomorrow, too,” you remind him. “Whatever you decide, I’m okay with it but I won’t be there to help you until I come back from the mission. So, you’d be on your own with him for a while.”

Gojo guffaws next to you; “you’re acting like I’ve already decided.”

You raise a brow, glancing up at him through your lashes; “haven’t you?”

Frowning, Gojo squints down at you. “Maybe…”

Shaking your head, you just laugh. “I look forward to meeting him.”

“...Me too.” Gojo agrees, “if he wants to come.”

“He will,” you shrug. “I’m sure.”

Gojo doubts your certainty, but he doesn’t argue against it either. Instead, he shifts to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer against his side. You’ve got an early mission tomorrow, after all, and he doesn’t want to waste every last second he has with you until he’s torn apart from you for a whole weekend.

(Truly, the worst hell those higher up can subject him to).

You feel the same, of course. So you lean into him with ease, relishing in the feeling of his warmth and familiarity.

Thinking to yourself that your whole world will be different when you return—you and Gojo and a… kid.

(It’s crazy, but you still love the idea of it).

You don’t come home after that mission, though.

You don’t come home ever again.

And you don’t see Gojo until ten years later.

Setting your hands against his cheeks, you frown.

“I wanted you to live a long life.”

Gojo shakes his head. “Wasn’t worth living without you.”

You sniffle, swallowing back the tears that just continue to fall relentlessly. It was wonderful to have Gojo in your arms once more, but… but you’d wanted him to live forever… raising the new generation of Jujutsu Sorcerers and protecting them. Live a life, even if it meant without you.

You’d been content just watching.

But he was here now, regardless, and it would be silly to deny the fact that a part of you was happy to have him with you once more even if it broke your heart all the same.

“I missed you,” Gojo whispers against the top of your head, pulling you close into a hug. He holds tight and long, savoring the fact that he can have you in his arms once again after years of being forced to live without you. “I missed you so much.”

“Me too,” you agree, pressing your face into his chest and breathing in his familiar scent. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it home.”

Gojo just shakes his head, a hand pressing to the back of yours.

“It’s okay,” he assures, “because I have you now.”

#.justauthoring #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff

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greentrickster · 20 days

Text

It occurs to me that, in light of his discovery about Shang Qinghua's true nature and relationship to the world, and of his own place within all this, Mobei-jun's probably going to become just a touch insufferable, though not in the way he usually is. Like, the biggest hurdle to the Moshang relationship from his perspective is that he's never, ever been able to get a solid read on this weird servant of his. Mobei-jun can't figure it out for himself, Shang Qinghua refuses to explain himself or ask for anything other than his own life even as he makes himself indispensable and pulls off these amazing acts of service, but he also seems terrified of Mobei-jun a lot of the time, and, frankly, yeah, I'd be confused and irritable as heck after a couple decades of mixed signals like this too. And that's on top of having some very well-founded and (given his life experiences) extremely understandable trust issues.

(Because, while Airplane is genuinely my favorite, I can also acknowledge that, from Mobei-jun's perspective, he probably looks shadier than Reigan from MP100.)

Except now? Now. Now Mobei-jun knows why Shang Qinghua's always been so squirrely and secretive, why he's always been devoted to Mobei-jun even while terrified of him, why he never responds to Mobei-jun's overt courting tactics in spite of seeming to find him attractive... he's got all the pieces. Including that absolute, most important of pieces:

Shang Qinghua loves him best. Shang Qinghua has always loved him best.

I think that knowledge makes him melt a bit. Not because of who or what Shang Qinghua is, but because Mobei-jun finally, finally understands this strange little man, and that means it's finally safe to trust him, fully and completely.

Of course this makes our favorite popsicle melt a bit. And, when popsicles melt a bit, it's only natural that they get a little sticky.

Which is to say Airplane is never going to have to worry about touch-starvation again, because he's going to be getting all the hugs and cuddles and pats (and affectionate (and very careful) slaps and pinches, because Mobei-jun's doing his best to respect boundaries but he's still a demon and this is part of their culture, society, and nature (and also because Airplane has come to the conclusion that if Mobei-jun gets to have a go at his cheeks every now and then, then Airplane gets to smack the butt in retaliation, and Mobei-jun has yet to disabuse him of this notion)). Also just picked up and carried around sometimes, because Qinghua's legs are so short and he works so hard, it is unfitting to make him work extra to keep up with Mobei-jun (which is definitely the only reason he's doing this, not because he just wants to carry Qinghua around like his favorite cuddle toy just because he can, really).

There's at least one Peak Lord meeting that Shang Qinghua arrives to via Mobei-jun carrying him there bridal style. This is also the meeting where everyone has to deal with the fact that Shang shidi has a demon king hugging his waist while laying his head in Shang shidi's lap, because Qinghua needed to attend this meeting, but Mobei-jun wasn't ready to stop cuddling yet.

And when everyone makes extremely reasonable noises about maybe not having a demon king in attendance while they went over private sect affairs and maybe Mobei-jun should leave, the giant brat just looks at them all with one eye and says, "No, I'm his favorite." And then closes his eye again and proceeds to ignore them all in favour of sticking his face in Qinghua's stomach and having a nap.

Meaning now they all have to live with the knowledge that Shang shidi is the most important being in the world and what his taste in men is like.

Shang shidi going, "I mean... he's right, and also I've been telling him stuff about these meetings for years and also, like... you can't really stop me." does not help.

#svsss #scum villian self saving system #shang qinghua #mobei jun #moshang #great god airplane

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padfootagain · 4 months

Text

Blackout

Hi everyone! Here comes another fic for Hozier! Hope you like it! It isn’t an enemies to lovers, honestly, more like an… annoyed to lovers.

Hope you like this! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x reader

Warnings: none, it’s cute! Adorable even. Lots of interrupted kisses. Annoyed to lovers instead of a real enemies to lovers

Summary: Your new neighbour is insufferable with his music-making and his pretty face and his unbearably tall frame. Or is he? Maybe a blackout through your neighbourhood will make you change your mind about him.

Word Count: 5568

Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

It wasn’t that you hated him, really. You reckoned that you didn’t know the guy enough to hate him.

It was just that… he simply… got on your nerves.

Why? Well, the fact that your new neighbour was blasting electric guitar and wailing at 2am was a good start. And then there was just… something… something off. You couldn’t explain it. You just saw him and you went nope.

And that was probably mean, and uncalled for, to be fair. He seemed nice enough, during the day, when he was not waking you up at an ungodly hour. He was good-looking too, and he had a nice soothing voice, quiet and surprisingly gentle considering that he was a fucking giant…

Still, you couldn’t forgive him for ruining your nights and never even apologising. Or actually, he did apologise. Every time. And then, he went ahead and did it all over again the next day. The fact that he was a famous musician (that you had obviously recognised, you did not live under a rock, after all) was no excuse to bother your neighbours when they had jobs to go to in the morning.

What a jerk…

Still, you did need some flour to bake these cookies due for your friend tomorrow, now that your little demon of a black cat had dropped the whole thing on the floor… and then decided to roll in it so he could paint your entire kitchen with powder.

What a day…

So, that was the reason why you were now knocking on your neighbour’s door. It was a small building you lived in, with only three flats, and you knew that the couple upstairs were away, gone on vacation somewhere hot and sunny to drink fancy colourful cocktails, the lucky bastards. Meanwhile, you remained in your small town, while it was freezing cold outside, sky as grey as your mood, forced to see this unbearably annoying neighbour of yours…

You knocked a second time, perhaps he had not heard you. You knew he was in, there was light coming out from underneath his door. The shop in your village was closed today. He was your only hope to get these cookies of yours, sadly…

Finally, the door opened. Or well, it was flung open, actually. A grumpy look on handsome features appeared, towering you with his full height, long brown curls messily tied in a bun.

“Hi!” you forced a smile. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow, but nodded anyway.

“Need anything else?” he asked, and his voice was softer than the look on his face would have suggested.

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He seemed unsure of what to do with his long limbs for a moment, staring at you before he turned in a jolt, hurried back inside. You noticed that he hadn’t bothered with a hello.

What a je…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour with a smile. It was pretty, even if it was unmistakeably polite more than anything else.

Why on earth were you thinking that, by the way?

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise.”

He merely gave you another smile, clearly uncomfortable.

“Okay, bye!”

You spun around before he could do anything but mumble a ‘goodbye’, and disappeared in your flat, just across the hall.

Leaning against your front door after closing it, you tried to remember how much of a jerk that man was. How annoying he was. And most of all, you tried not to think of how gorgeous his hazel eyes were…

There was a noise before you, and when you lifted your eyes, Salem was staring at you, paws and fur still partially covered in white flour.

Damn…

It wasn’t that he hated you, really. Andrew reckoned that he didn’t know you enough to hate you.

It was just… simply that you… made him nervous.

There was something about you that just made him struggle to breathe all of a sudden. The fact that the first conversation you had was you not-so-politely telling him to shut up already might have something to do with that. The fact that your cat had been peeing right before his front door on several occasions also played in your disfavour. And perhaps there was also the fact that he found you breathtaking, that he loved the sound of your voice, and that every time he saw you he was torn between an urge to snap at you and another to kiss you to finally make you shut up already. He also sometimes wanted to throw your cat out of the building, but he was too kind-hearted for this to ever fall into the ‘feasible’ category.

The other ones of his urges though…

He shook himself, focused on his guitar again, reached for the cup of tea by his side, sliding the two teabags to the side to take a sip. He needed to focus. He had a song to finish, damn it…

But then again, writing in this small flat he was renting wasn’t ideal. The roof of his home needed to be fixed, he couldn’t stay there for several weeks in a row while people were working on it. And as he was in desperate need for a place to stay while his roof was being repaired, and unwilling to simply stay at a friend’s house for weeks, he wasn’t picky when it came to the choice of flat for this short rental. He would be staying only for a few weeks anyway. He saw the flat on Air BnB, figured it would do, and moved in for six weeks.

The paper-thin walls were a challenge though. And being the night-owl he was, it was tough working only throughout the day.

He took a look at the clock on the wall. 9pm… surely he could make a little bit of noise still. No adult was going to sleep so early these days, lives were too busy for that, workdays too long.

He started recording, trying to get a few back-up vocals in. He could record some guitar quietly later, but he did need some strong vocals to get a feeling of the song. Perhaps it would help him finish this bunch of lyrics he was stuck with.

He had been working for around twenty minutes when he heard someone knocking on his door.

He stopped mid-note, cursing at the interruption. Your interruption, without a doubt…

He needed to work, it was still early, and you were getting on his nerves so fucking much…

He opened his door a little too hard, a dark expression adorning his features. And he was even angrier at you when he found you wearing casual clothes, a warm oversized hoodie and some sweatpants. He was infuriated by your messy hair and the way he wanted to run his fingers through it. He was so frustrated by the white traces of flour splattered across your cheek and sleeves and fingers, and how adorable they made you look. Cosy and comfortable and making him feel lonely like this, on his own, recording alone and singing to no one, making him want to hold you through the night…

“Hi!” you spoke first, but he noticed at once how forced your smile was. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

He was so surprised, he had to raise an eyebrow at that. No complaints about his singing? No… complaints in general? Were you alright?

He wondered why he was so surprised by that, anyway. You seemed to be lovely. He simply had never had the occasion to properly talk to you, that was all…

He nodded.

“Need anything else?” he asked, making his voice softer, knowing he had been a little rough as he had opened the door.

And for God’s sake, he had not even said hello! You would think he was an absolute knob… Was it too late to say hello? Yeah, of course, it was too late, he was pathetic, and there it was again, you were making him so damn nervous, staring at him with these beautiful eyes of yours…

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He wasn’t sure what to do. For some reason, he was reluctant to walk in again. He didn’t dare question why.

Eventually, though, he did hurry to his kitchen, foraging for his flour. He had barely half a bag left…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour and forced a smile. He hoped you wouldn’t notice that his hands had turned clammy, that he was struggling for breath a little… or a lot, actually. He didn’t know what to make of his long limbs, of his tall frame, he didn’t know what to tell you…

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise,” you told him, smiling too, although yours was more relaxed and he found it a little too bright, it made it dangerous.

He wondered if he should tell you about the white streak on your cheek, but decided against it. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, he was awkward enough for the two of you. God, it had been years since he had been that shy in front of someone.

Before he could find something to say (and he was trying hard to find something interesting to say), you were pressing your lips tightly together.

“Okay, bye!”

It was over already? Andrew was a little stunned by it, he mumbled a ‘goodbye’, brain functioning at full speed to find an excuse to make you stay, but found nothing, reaching to grasp only at air. A second later, you were spinning around, hurrying across the corridor and back to the safety of your door. He watched you disappear, and walked back inside with a sigh.

He sat back in his chair, picked up his guitar again. Damn, he needed to get a grip. He was supposed to hate you, for God’s sake…

“Oh, this got to be a joke…”

Andrew mumbled under his breath, heaving a deep sigh. As if things weren’t complicated enough already in this tiny flat…

The light had just gone out. In this wintery season, even though it was still fairly early, the sky was already wearing its nightly colours, although any traces of moon or stars were hidden behind heavy clouds. Without electricity, the whole room was drenched in darkness…

Andrew checked the battery level of his laptop, resting before him on the small desk where he had been working on a new song. Luckily, none of his music equipment was plugged in, so no damage from a power surge could have happened. He had about 35% battery left…

“Great…”

He saved his files, and used the light of the screen to look for his phone. He checked the battery there too, at the corner of the screen.

12%...

“Fuck…”

He turned the torchlight on anyway, having no other source of light in the room but for his electronical devices. He headed for the cupboard by the door, feet making the wooden floor creak quietly in the dark. He checked the fuses on the hidden electrical panel there, but everything was normal.

It wasn’t coming from his flat. In fact, it wasn’t coming from his building. As he peered into the street, all the streetlights had gone out. It was complete darkness, except for the distant lights of a car, that disappeared after a few seconds.

Andrew heaved another sigh, wondering what to do. It was 6pm, he had not eaten dinner, he had not showered – both vital needs that could not be fulfilled without electricity, unless he wanted to opt for a freezingly cold shower, and he was clearly not in the mood for that – and his phone, aka only source of light, was about to die.

Great… fucking great…

He reckoned that he had a few biscuits tugged somewhere, that would make dinner. He could still quickly wash up with cold water and take a proper shower tomorrow. He only needed a proper torchlight, or at least a candle to see something.

He foraged through the cupboards, drawers and every corner of the flat. No candle, no light, nothing…

His phone was down to 7% battery.

Damn…

There was, however, a solution to his problem. He could go and ask you if you could lend him any source of light…

God, he hated his bloody romantic brain for the line that immediately popped into his head.

She’s a source of light…

“Oh, just shut up, already…” he cursed at himself out loud.

He still opened the door, and walked over to your flat. He only hesitated once he was facing the wooden surface, hand raised in a fist and about to knock. He could feel his throat tightening, and some excited butterflies mingle in his stomach with something anxious and not quite nice. He could feel his palms becoming clammy. He bit down on his cheek.

Did he really want to do that? Knock on your door? See you? You could tell him to fuck off. You could be mean. Or worse, you could give him an earnest smile, what would he do with himself if you did?

But Andrew shook himself and finally knocked. He wasn’t a bloody teenager to be this intimidated by someone. He was an accomplished musician, in his thirties, who owned a home, bees and an awful lot of guitars. He had talked to many people who were way more intimidating than you, including the fucking president! He had sung in front of thousands of people! Tens of thousands! He could totally ask you for a torchlight and be cool about it.

His breath staggered when your face appeared, opening the door and looking up at him with these gorgeous eyes of yours, and his heart skipped several beats, and his brain simply ceased to function altogether…

Bloody hell…

“Oh, hi!” you spoke in an annoyed voice, but he somehow knew the feeling wasn’t aimed at him. “I was about to go over to your place, Andrew. There’s no power in my flat.”

“None in mine either. And nothing in the street. It seems the whole area is in the dark.”

You heaved a frustrated sigh, a long exhale through your nose, and Andrew couldn’t help but find you adorable like this, all frustration and annoyance. He wanted to kiss that frown of yours away…

But he shook himself instead.

She’s annoying as fuck. And you’ve interviewed your fucking president, you can ask your neighbour for a candle…

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, his voice more hesitant than usual, but steady all the same. “But there’s nothing we can do to get the lights back on, and there’s no candle or torchlight in the flat. And my phone is about to die. Do you have anything you could lend me for the night?”

But you shook your head.

“Sorry, got only one candle, and I’m using it. My phone is about to die too.”

“Oh… okay, nevermind then. Thanks anyway.”

“Oh wait! Your flour!”

You rushed inside, reappeared seconds later with the bag you had borrowed that morning.

“Thanks,” Andrew gave you a smile, one that he tried to make brighter than the ones he usually offered you. “Hope the cooking went well.”

“Yep! I now have lots of cookies! Luckily, they were finished before the power went out. The oven runs on electricity.”

“Yeah, mine too. Everything in the flat does, actually,” he answered with a wince.

“You’ve got some food for tonight?”

“Some snacks, yeah. It will simply not be a night for my infamous pastas.”

Andrew didn’t know how to react when you actually chuckled at his joke, a genuine smile now adorning your lips. It was all butterflies and leaping heart and air leaving his lungs.

Fuck… this was so much more intimidating than talking to the president…

“I’ve got some stuff ready, if you want. Nothing fancy, just a salad.”

You opened your door wider, a silent invitation, one he was too surprised by to seize right away, too busy raising an eyebrow.

“Oh… erhmmm… thanks… you don’t have to bother, though…”

“I’m not! I prepare most of my meals in advance, during the weekend. I have enough for you, if you want.”

“Erhmmm… it won’t bother you?”

“No, I…”

But you were interrupted by sudden darkness as Andrew’s phone decided to give up on life…

“Fuck! Bloody hell…” he cursed under his breath, tapping on the screen, but to no avail.

“Wait, the candle…”

You walked back into your flat, a dim light coming from the other end of the hall. He could only guess your form in the dark, but he noticed that you were stumbling as you cursed.

“Bloody… Salem! No! Andrew, close the door! The cat!”

Andrew didn’t think. He didn’t fully realize what he was doing as he stepped inside your flat and closed the door in a hurry. A soft brush against his ankle told him that your cat had not managed to escape.

“Did he run off?” you asked, reappearing with the candle in your hand, your features bathed in the warm light; something so ethereal, Andrew thought he was dreaming all of this.

But then he felt claws digging into his jeans in an attempt to climb up his leg, and he was reminded that he was not dreaming, indeed.

“No, he’s decided to use me as his personal tree instead,” he joked, bending to gently push the animal away, who mewed in discontent.

You laughed at that, sound clear and blinding, making him a little dizzy.

“For his defence, that’s an easy mistake to make.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Very funny…”

Still, he couldn’t refrain an amused smile, and yours brightened too.

“So, now that you’re in… want some of my brilliant chicken salad?”

You had no idea what had gone through your brain when you invited Andrew to come in and share a meal with you.

You were supposed to hate the guy. He was supposed to be the annoying musician next door who kept on yelling into some microphone when you tried to sleep.

It was difficult to remind yourself of that though, when the annoying musician turned out to be so soft-spoken and sweet. Sweet. Yeah, that was the most fitting word to describe how your evening was going with him so far. He seemed nervous as well, an unexpected reaction to your modest flat and perfectly ordinary self. The guy had sung in front of audiences of thousands and probably met an awful lot of people who were everything but ordinary… and yet he was shifting his weight now from one foot to the other, as if he didn’t know what to make of his long limbs. You found that adorable…

The fact that he looked stunning in the warm light of the candle, with his hazel eyes looking almost black in the dimly lit room, his hair held in a messy bun, the photons caught in his beard and long eyelashes… yeah, that was not helping at all, either.

You cleared your throat while handing him a glass of water, which he quietly thanked you for. There was nothing special about your meal, but he complimented you anyway. He stole a couple extra cookies for dessert, and you smiled at the sight.

“Sweet tooth?” you asked, nodding towards the crumbs in his plate, the last remnants of the fourth cookie he had been devouring.

He looked sheepishly at you.

“Kind of… sorry…”

“Don’t apologise! I’m glad you like them.”

“Well, you did make them with my flour, so I guess I’ve partly paid for them,” he joked, successfully making you laugh.

He was funny, which didn’t help you reminding yourself that you ought to despise him either.

If you had both struggled a little to start a proper conversation at the beginning, you were more relaxed now, and Andrew seemed to be feeling the same. You had barely talked to each other before, your interactions limited to polite chit-chat typical of neighbourhood, and you being annoyed at him, and him being annoyed at you.

It turned out that he was nice, that he was kind, that he was funny and smart and that he had an awful lot of anecdotes to tell. Time flew by, the night deepening faster than expected, and you remained sitting around your dinner table even after your plates were empty, talking about your lives and discovering that you had quite a lot in common, after all.

Alright, he wasn’t as insufferable as you had first thought, and for sure your heart leapt every time he smiled, and you couldn’t deny that he was gorgeous…

… still, you were supposed to hate him.

He helped you wash the dishes, joking and making you laugh, and hell, it was hard to stop your heart from beating too fast.

Out of annoyance, of course! You were annoyed… that was why your stomach made some crazy flip-flops when he bent closer to you to secure a plate in the cupboard above your head. It wasn’t at all because his shoulder was touching yours, because he stood so close you could smell his earthy perfume and it made you dizzy…

Nope! None of that… of course…

And when he looked down at you, remaining just as close, and you caught him staring, caught the bopping of his Adam’s apple and the tensing of the muscle in his jaw, the sudden urge you felt to reach up for his collar and pull him down until you could kiss his lips was a reflection of your frustration against him, nothing more.

Nothing more…

His eyes left yours, blinked a couple of times and landed on your lips, and you were certain that the sound of his breathing had disappeared. And you both remained there, standing still, staring at the other and you wondered if he was thinking the same thought as you did, having the same surprising longing to close the space between your bodies. You weren’t sure why you had invited him when you thought you disliked him. But then did you really dislike him? Or did you simply smell danger in his bright smile, saw risks in his pretty eyes, and the fear of falling in his deep voice? Yeah… yeah, perhaps there was a little bit of that, too… You tilted your head up, and he lowered his head, just a little bit, the ghost of a movement, you could almost have dreamt it…

But then he moved away, in a jolt, blinking and clearing his throat as if catching himself doing something mad and wrong and stopping before he actually performed the sin. You disliked him once again, then, hating that he elicited disappointment…

You finished washing the dishes in silence, and you hated the feeling of discomfort that suddenly replaced the warmth he had brought before. He was back at shuffling around, clearly uncomfortable. And yet, when he looked at you again and caught your gaze with his, his expression softened.

“Can I confess something?” he asked out of the blue, but you nodded in encouragement despite your surprise.

He sounded serious all of a sudden, and he took a moment to look for the right words. His eyes seemed to search for something in yours, and you couldn’t look away while he looked so intensely at you.

“I… I’m sorry we kind of… hit it off in a bad way. Cause I… you’re not as bad as I thought you were,” he added with a tinge of humour and lopsided smile, which made you smile too.

“Yeah… you’re not as insufferable as I thought you were either,” you admitted despite yourself. And yet, as soon as the confession passed your lips, you couldn’t deny that you truly meant it.

He grinned, the sight making your heart skip a few beats.

“Is there a way that I can repay you for your amazing chicken salad?” he asked, his tone more playful again, eliciting warmth across your frame.

You couldn’t refrain a laugh.

“I mean, it was an amazing salad,” you leaned into his joking tone.

“Spectacular. It deserves some kind of retribution, somehow…”

“Well, you’re a musician aren’t you? I’m sure you can find something.”

He laughed at that, clearly taken aback by your answer, but if he blushed and rubbed his neck in a mark of sudden shyness, he didn’t back down.

“You’re aiming straight for the serious topics,” he teased.

“For the free concert tickets, if we’re being fully honest…” you joked, making both of you laugh.

“Oh, I see! That’s where the sudden kindness comes from! You want to exchange a chicken salad for a show!”

“Absolutely! Do you have any idea how much time and energy I’ve put in that salad?!”

“A tremendous amount, no doubt! Well… sorry to disappoint, but I’m not on tour at the moment.”

“Good, cause I was aiming for that other artist you might know.”

He broke into a loud laughter, one that filled your apartment and your frame alike with joy.

“What a well-thought plan! I’m afraid you might make me more important than I truly am, though.”

“If I give you an extra-cookie, I’m sure you’ll find a way to get me the show I want.”

“And here you go, using my weaknesses already, you clever lass!”

“A genius, that’s what I am!”

You laughed again, before you would grow more serious again.

“Seriously though, don’t mention it. It was nice to have dinner with you.”

His smile grew more tender, his gaze softened.

“Yeah… it was nice for me too. And perhaps you… perhaps we could do that again? Next time I could be doing the cooking.”

“And with actual lights on, that could be good too,” you joked, making him chuckle as he nodded.

“And well… I’ll have my guitar with me, perhaps I can repay you with some music then.”

“Wow… are you offering a free concert, or a form of serenading?”

You were joking, but you noticed the way his cheeks reddened, and he averted his eyes for a few seconds, before capturing your stare with his once more.

“Rather the second option, I reckon.”

You tried very hard to hide your reaction: the way your heart skipped a few beats and then became absolutely erratic, so much so that you wondered if it could beat hard enough to break your ribs and escape your chest altogether; the butterflies that flew across your stomach; the breath that got caught in your throat…

Damn, you hadn’t felt like that in years…

He averted his eyes once more to speak again.

“Ermmm… unless you wouldn’t like that, of course.”

“I… Actually, I think I would like that. Quite a lot.”

He looked at you then, his smile turning into a grin. And he blinked, eyes falling to your lips a second time this evening…

You reached for your kitchen counter, hesitating in taking the first step and leaning into your urge to pull him down to kiss him. How crazy was that thought? That you could be kissing Hozier, of all people; that you wanted to kiss the neighbour you had categorized as annoying for weeks; that you felt exhilarated like a teenager at the mere thought of touching his cheek…

He seemed to be hesitating too, and you heard him take a sharp intake of breath, blink again, and then he slowly leant down…

… and then it was complete darkness in the room, as the candle died out.

You jumped in surprise, taking a step back involuntarily and letting out a squeal as you felt your heel brushing your cat’s tail. Salem hissed, although you stopped your step before you could hurt him. You started to lose your balance though, when a pair of hands reached blindly in the dark for you, grabbing both of your upper arms and pulling you forward. You collided with something warm, hard and steady, and the earthy scent that enveloped your senses and made your head spin told you that you were pressed against Andrew’s chest.

“You’re alright?” he asked, worry audible in his tone.

“Yeah, just… almost stepped on my cat.”

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah, I almost stepped on him.”

He let out a low hum, almost a rumble, the vibrations echoing through your cheek and you had to close your eyes at the reassuring feeling. You reached up to hold him without thinking; there was something so safe and soft about his embrace…

His left hand moved from your arm to your back, a soothing caress as he pressed you closer. Meanwhile, his other hand was slowly moving up your arm, torturingly slow, making its way from your arm to your shoulder, and then it was time for a brush of long fingers across your neck that made your whole body tremble, and he kept on going until you moved your face so he could cup your cheek in his palm, his thumb brushing delicate circles into your cheekbone. You didn’t dare to move, afraid he would leave your arms, afraid you wouldn’t feel the warmth of his body sipping into your clothes anymore. But then, you felt his warm breath fan over your forehead, near your hairline, and you looked up to see nothing but shadows, your hair brushed against the tip of his nose.

But then you were blinded, as the power was back on, the lights now turned on again.

You both jolted backwards, blinking hard against the outburst of light, and you heard him cursing under his breath.

And just like that he was gone, and you could have cried from the cold that replaced his body in your arms.

It took both of you a moment to regain your composure, to realize what was happening, where you were, what had almost happened.

Almost…

When you caught his gaze again, you couldn’t make out what his hazel eyes were saying, pupils still dilated after spending so long in a dimly lit room and then in complete darkness.

You struggled to swallow, unsure what to do next. Were you supposed to act like you had not been close to kissing a second ago? Were you supposed to joke around again? Were you supposed to talk about it? Were you supposed to ask him on a date?

You read the same hesitations in Andrew’s eyes, although something soon shifted in his gaze. Something determined appeared, and a little scared, but lovely all the same. And before you could react, he had taken a step forward to close back the space between your bodies, had reached up to hold your face in both his hands, and was crushing his lips to yours.

Your brain ceased to function altogether, you were too stunned to realize fully what was happening. But then your braincells caught on, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to bring his even closer as you kissed him, sighing in his mouth as he parted his lips to taste you.

For how long did you remain like this, standing in your kitchen, untangled and kissing? Hard to tell, impossible even. But when you broke apart, both of you out of breath, you rested your forehead against his shoulder, and he held you close, as if he were afraid you could leave.

“What the fuck was that?” you asked, your voice full of shock.

He chuckled at your reaction.

“You know, when a man and a woman really like each other, sometimes…”

“Don’t,” you warned him, but couldn’t refrain a smile all the same.

“Sorry, bad timing.”

You looked up at him, and by the look he gave you, you guessed that you weren’t very good at hiding your sudden nervousness.

“I’m not the ‘one-night stand’ type,” you warned him.

Andrew slowly nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Okay.”

“Besides, I’m supposed to hate you so…”

“Hate me?”

“You’re supposed to be the hot but very annoying neighbour who I blame for all of my life’s problems.”

He laughed at that, a smirk forming on his lips.

“You think I’m hot?”

It was your time to laugh.

“You’re not too bad,” you answered, but the look you gave him made him blush.

“Well, you’re not too bad either. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“I’m sure you can do better than that.”

A spark of mischief appeared in his eyes.

“If you want, I can get going with the serenading.”

You laughed again, shaking your head, but playing along all the same.

“Tempting. I won’t give myself away for less than that.”

“Dully noted. I’ll make efforts to woo you properly, I promise.”

You shied away a little, but he held you a little more tightly against him.

“What about a proper date though?” he asked, all traces of humour now gone from his voice. “Tomorrow night?”

You smiled up at him, nodding your head, before burying your face in his shoulder again, and he held you tightly against him in response.

Yeah, he truly was insufferable, without a doubt…

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x y/n #hozier x you #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier oneshot #hozier fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #oneshot

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bunnylovesani · 6 months

Text

A Birthday Affair 2

Summary: Past midnight is when the real birthday celebrations start and the best gift you could’ve asked for is to get stuffed. Full of cake, of course. You just better hope Padme doesn’t wake up.

Content warnings: P in V sex, oral sex, cheating, generally immoral activity lmao

WC: 3.2k

“Would you stop whining about it already? Give me a fucking minute to put on my shoes and I’ll get you the stupid replacement.” Anakin yells in Padme’s direction, on his way to buy you another birthday cake after the last one went up in flames.

“It’s not for me, it’s for her!” She points at you and Anakin sighs, giving you an apologetic look.

“Yeah well, she doesn’t seem to be half as fussed about it as you are.” He grabs the keys by the door and throws on a navy blue baseball cap. “Be back in twenty.” He seems to say only to you and the act of defiance doesn’t go unnoticed by Padme.

“God, what a jerk. I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately but he seems to be even more unbearable than usual.” She steps out onto the terrace of your shared apartment and you follow her. “You spend every day with us, tell me- has he said anything to you? You know, about us?”

You shuffle on your feet nervously and let out a huff. “No, nothing.” You decide to keep your lies simple and easy to follow.

“That’s even worse!” She whines. “He doesn’t mention me at all?”

“I didn’t say that.” You deflected nervously.

“So he does talk about me?” Noticing your hesitance, she puts her hand on your shoulder reassuringly. “Relax, you can tell me. You’re my best friend in the whole world, I’d never get mad at you for telling me the truth.”

“I got something that’d test that theory.” You think as you scratch the back of your head.

“Look Padme, I don’t know what to tell you- I mean he doesn’t talk badly about you, but he doesn’t mention you all that much either.”

She pauses for a moment and takes a step back, observing you closely.

“So what do you guys talk about then?” She shoots you a scrutinising glare.

“W-what?” You kick yourself for how suspicious you’re coming across.

“You heard me. We’ve been roommates for a good couple of months now.” She paces up and down the terrace. “When I’m at work and you two are alone, what do you talk about?”

“Oh, you know. The usual. Nothing special.” You reply honestly. Up until this evening, you hadn’t crossed any boundaries with Anakin- unless you count your fantasies. In which case you’d crossed them multiple times in multiple different positions.

She looks at you with narrowed eyes, processing your response for a moment before she releases a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been feeling a little paranoid recently.” She slumps down onto a plump deck chair and breathes in the cold night air. “He seems distant, like he’s not really here with me, you know?” You take a seat beside her, not sure whether it would be more morally reprehensible to comfort her or to change the subject.

“I don’t know Padme, it’s between you guys- I don’t wanna get involved.” You hear the irony in your words as soon as they leave your lips.

“Of course, ‘m sorry for being such a downer- and on the eve of your birthday too! I’m gonna throw you the biggest rager tomorrow, I’ve invited so many cute guys - just for you.” She rambles excitedly and you bite your lip in guilt.

A short while later, Anakin comes home to a very lukewarm reception from Padme, who complains that the cake he bought isn’t good enough- it wasn’t the right size, the right flavour or the right colour. You thought it was perfectly fine.

After a brief but heated argument, Padme decides to call it a night and retreats into her bedroom down the hall.

“I’m sorry about her.” Anakin whispers, treading lightly over to you. “She’s acting even more insufferable than I’m used to.”

“Funny, she said the same thing about you earlier.” You smile, knees feeling weak when he returns it with his own twinkling grin.

“I can’t wait until it’s you I get to go to bed with, not her.” He speaks softly, reaching up to brush his knuckles against your cheek.

“Me neither, but we can’t do things like that anymore. Not until you deal with Padme.” You vowed, looking over his shoulder.

“I know, I know, I’ll deal with that soon-“

“Anakin! Come to bed!” Padme interjects with a high-pitched and entirely repellant screech.

He rolls his eyes so far back into his head you wonder if they’ll ever come out again.

“I’m coming!” He yells, throwing his arms into the air with a measure of agitation you’d never seen before.

“I gotta go, angel. I’ll see you in the morning yeah? My pretty birthday girl.” He grabs your chin lightly before planting a peck on your forehead and retreating into the bedroom with an indignant sigh.

You stayed up for a little while longer, deciding to tidy the mess of pillows and plushies strewn along your bed. As you readjusted your teddies, you let out a dreamy moan at the memory of your romp earlier this evening. You snake your hand between your thighs as you sit down, feeling deliciously sore- head spinning with the reminder of how right it felt to have him buried inside you. Only being granted the pleasure of having him once wasn’t anywhere near enough- you felt like you were going through withdrawal, unable to form a single thought that wasn’t about him.

Resigning yourself to a long sleepless night, you slipped your most expensive silk nightie on and crawled under the covers. Glancing over to the clock on your nightstand, you saw that it was 1 minute past midnight- officially your birthday. You wondered if Ani got you anything nice, focusing on hypothetical presents rather than allowing your guilty conscience to creep in.

Speaking of creeping in, you hear the door knob squeak with a careful twist and a festive pyjama-clad Anakin enters your room.

“Ani! What are you doing here?” You whisper, motioning to securely close the door shut.

“Sorry, I couldn’t wait- just had to come see you. Happy birthday, baby.” He hands you a charming white gift box wrapped tightly in a pink silk bow, his large palm making it look tiny.

“Can I join you for a minute?” He gestures towards your bed and you’re torn.

“Oh Ani, you shouldn’t have. I-I don’t know, what if she catches us?” You try to reason but your attention has been stolen by the pretty box, which you eagerly pluck out of his hand.

“She’s out cold.” He perches at the foot of your bed. “You hear that? Sounds like a grizzly bear operating a chainsaw.”

You giggle at his words and peel back your covers, inviting him to lay beside you.

“Or a congested walrus.” You add.

“Driving a bulldozer.”

“Well now you’re just exaggerating.” You laugh into your pillow while Anakin shushes you, playfully hitting you with your teddy.

Clutching the box as you untie the delicate ribbon, you pull out a polished gold necklace with a satiny heart pendant- engraved with the letter A.

“Ani, I love it! But-“

“I bought this a week ago.” He interrupts. “My heart belonged to you long before you gave me your body. I want you to wear it and the next time I see Padme, I’ll tell her everything.”

“Really? The next time?” You ask incredulously. You’d expected this to drag on for a lot longer.

“First thing in the morning, angel.” He reassured you soothingly and you melted into his arms.

“Okay, help me put it on.” You tittered excitedly as he clipped the necklace in place, the delicate pendant lingering over your collarbones.

“Thank you. It’s perfect.” You held it in your hand and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Pulling away slightly, you darted between his dreamy eyes and his parted mouth, trying to resist temptation.

Before you could give in first, Anakin gripped your jaw with his hands, pulling you in impossibly close to kiss you deeply. You sucked on his tongue, moaning at the subtle taste of vanilla cake frosting and minty toothpaste.

“No, wait. We shouldn’t.” You proclaim breathily, though you know your empty words were nothing but a pitiful attempt at making you feel like you’d at least tried to abstain.

“Then why does it feel so right?” He silences you by pressing his lips against yours once more, all resistance fading away under his gentle touch.

You squirm under his weight as he climbs on top of you, kissing and sucking his way down to your thighs, which he pins open until the sides of your knees are lying firmly against the bed.

“Can I taste you, sweetheart?” He asks in a hushed tone, rubbing his thumbs against your soft skin.

You nod in response, hoping that on some level not speaking would make this whole thing less sinful. Anakin doesn’t press you for a verbal response, taking no time at all before he pulls your panties off and delves his tongue into your pussy. Your hand flies over your mouth as you slip out a breathy moan, the warm feeling of his mouth enveloping your clit overwhelming you. His nails dig into your fleshy hips and his grip around your thighs strengthens- swollen veins protruding through his forearms as the adrenaline courses through his blood.

You whimper into your heart-shaped pillow, gnawing at the frills as you feel the tip of Ani’s tongue working circles into your sensitive bud.

“You taste so good, baby.” He raises his head and you take in the sight before you: lips parted, wetness dribbling down his mouth and half-lidded eyes glaring at you lustily. “I can’t wait angel, ‘m sorry.” He mumbles, getting on his knees and dragging you down by the legs. He doesn’t bother removing his plaid pyjama bottoms, simply pulling them down and letting his cock spring up over the waistband, achingly hard. You can practically see it throbbing, the tip a glistening dark pink.

“Can I? Please, baby.” He whines, rubbing his tip along your soaked folds. You nod once again but he seems unsatisfied.

“Talk.” He demands simply. “It still counts as fucking even if you didn’t say a word.”

You frown at him, not appreciating how he just burst your bubble.

“Fine.” You huff and he raises an eyebrow.

“Are you giving me attitude?” He comes closer, tip kissing your entrance. “‘cus now would be the wrong time to do that.” He hisses and slides right in, filling you up all at once and giving you no time to adjust to his size. You mewl and writhe beneath him, gripping the sheets as he puts all his body weight on you and covers his hand firmly over your mouth.

“Do you want her to hear us? Shut up and take it.” He spits venomously as he gives you deep and slow thrusts, his cock reaching all the way up to your guts. You moan helplessly as he holds you in a near headlock, silenced with his strong arms and legs pinned wide open to make way for him. Your legs tremble as your pussy greedily accepts his length, squeezing it with its plush walls.

“Slutty little pussy, ’s gripping me so tight.” He grins against your neck. You’re not sure what it was about sex that brought out such a dominant and mean side to Anakin- but you weren’t complaining. The sound of arousal filled the room, your wet slickness gushing against him as his balls slapped against your ass. Hearing the lewd sounds, he slowed down a little, cautiously guiding his cock into you in such a way that would elicit the least amount of noise.

Just as you fell into an entrancingly good rhythm, a knock was heard at the door.

“Hey, you sleeping? Anakin’s gone somewhere.” Padme’s sleepy voice reverberates through the door.

You look to Anakin for guidance with an expression of panic but he looks completely calm- doing nothing besides slowly removing his hand away from your mouth, still sheathed in you. You consider not replying and pretending you’re asleep but quickly realise the light of the lamp shining under your doorway is a dead giveaway.

“Um, I’ve just gone to sleep now.” You answered with bated breath, wondering why Anakin hadn’t pulled out yet. “Has he really? Dunno where he could’ve gone.”

As if this exchange wasn’t challenging enough, Anakin begins fucking into you again, a wild smirk plastered on his face as he thrusts in and out.

“Ugh can I come in?” She whines, no doubt wanting to rant about her failing relationship. The hunk on top of you reaches down and starts rubbing your clit, staring into you with great amusement as you unsuccessfully attempt to bat him off.

“Uh- um, no Padme I’m sleeping, ah we’ll talk tomorrow!” You tremble, hoping your words didn’t come out too shaky.

“What are you doing in there? Are you okay?” Suddenly the door swings wide open and Padme walks in on the sight of her boyfriend on top of her best friend. You only catch a glimpse of her face for a moment- a screwed up expression of horror and disgust- before she turns around and reaches for the vase on top of your chest of drawers. Anticipating her reaction, Anakin towers over you protectively as Padme hurls the glass vase in your direction- the water spraying over you both as it flies over the bed, smashing into a million tiny pieces against the wall.

“You fucking whore!” She screams. “And you! You jerk! How could you fuck my best friend?!” Anakin throws an unphased glance her way for a moment before turning his gaze towards you, brushing his hand against your face gently and locking your lips in a soft kiss. The look of adoration he gives you, ignoring Padme completely, reassures you that you are the only one worth his attention.

“Oh, I’m gonna be fucking sick.” She splutters as she walks out of the room, slamming the door shut and mumbling curses to herself.

“Ani, get off! I need to go talk to-“

“You don’t need to do anything other than be in this moment right now, with me.” He pins you down by the wrists and glares at you, pushing in until the very base of his cock is flush against you. You want to fight him, to get up and chase after your friend but the pleasure has made your legs numb.

“You can leave when I’ve made you cum.” He rasps, resuming his heavy thrusts and you can’t do anything other than cry out his name- no point being quiet now that she knows, right?

“That’s it baby, let everyone know who you belong to.” He moans, brows upturning and mouth parted. He looked so pretty like this, damp curls brushing against his forehead and plump lips formed into an inviting o shape. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your throat ran dry as you felt the tip of his smooth cock gliding roughly against that spot that drove you crazy.

“Fuck Ani, ‘m gonna -“ The words flew out your mouth as your release took you by surprise, seizing your whole body in ecstasy and eliciting a torrent of guttural moans from your pretty lips. He buried his face into your chest, groaning against your bare tits as he joined you in cumming, painting your walls with his seed.

Ani was nothing if not a man of his word- so he rolled off you straight after, freeing you to leave.

“I would advise against what you’re about to do.” He speaks calmly, covering his lower half in your sheets and stretching his toned arms out before placing them beneath his head.

You ignore his comment, throwing on a bathrobe and leaving the room to see Padme- furiously stuffing articles of clothing into various bags. A nauseating fear overcomes you when you realise you have nothing to say to her.

“Don’t.” She snaps, noticing your lingering presence. “Don’t even come near me. You are dead to me.” You twiddle your thumbs standing in the doorway of her room, not sure what you were expecting.

“I’m sorry Padme, I really am. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” You mumble, barely above a whisper.

“You didn’t mean to slip and fall on his cock?” She has angry tears pouring frantically down her round face. “That doesn’t seem like the kind of thing that happens by accident.

“I meant I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You clarify gently.

“Well, you did. Oh my God, I can see his cum pouring down your leg.” She points in disgust and you cross your legs. “Is that what I saw earlier? I thought you spilt water or something, God I’m so stupid.”

“No, you’re not, this is all-“

“You’re right. This is all your fault, you dumb fucking slut. You’re nothing but a brainless whore.”

“That’s enough.” Anakin emerges, dressed in nothing but his boxers, a thin veil of glowing sweat coating his toned abdomen. “This was all my fault. If you have anything to say, you say it to me.” You cower behind him, thankful for his protective presence.

“Oh, I have plenty to say.” She barges past you both, carrying her bags out into the hallway. “A year’s relationship thrown away for a quick fuck. With that skank.”

“Don’t call her that.” He gruffly responds and you can’t help but think he’s being harsh.

“Spare me. What are you, her guard dog?” She scoffs, tears dried and replaced with a scornful bitterness. “You’re going to regret this. When the novelty wears off and you realise she means nothing to you, you’re going to come crawling back.”

“That’s highly unlikely.” He looks unperturbed, amused even - strangely nonchalant over the dramatic events unfurling before him.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” She jibes, throwing her coat on and getting ready to launch another venomous attack your way when she’s interrupted.

“I love her.” Anakin states simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You what?” Padme stops dead in her tracks, looking aghast.

“You what?” You parrot softly and he turns to face you, tenderly taking your face into his gentle hands.

“I love you.” He repeats, not an ounce of shame or regret in his words.

“I-I love you too, Ani.” You grab onto his wrists and gaze into his eyes with an adoring vulnerability.

“Rot in hell, you crazy motherfuckers.” Padme peels her eyes off the appalling sight before her, grabbing her bags and leaving the apartment with a thunderous slam of the bolted door.

You watch her leave with a troubled countenance painted across your face- but Ani never takes his eyes off you.

“I guess it’s just us now.” He smiles peacefully and you feel all your worries melt away.

“I guess it is.” You smile back, wrapping your arms around his strong neck and joining your lips in a passionate, cathartic kiss.

It’s not that you didn’t like Padme, nor that you were the kind of woman to choose a man over her friends. It was just him. You couldn’t help it- from this day forward you knew you would always pick Ani over anything else in this universe. Without a shadow of a doubt, he was your soulmate.

@crazy4hotmen @erinkeifer @mortalheartache @arzua10 @mugwump327

Part 1 here

#hayden christensen #star wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin fanfiction #anakin x you #star wars smut

697 notes · View notes

bkglovergirl · 1 month

Text

♡𓂃Room 381

Bakugou X Reader

𓏲 ࣪The school tells the students the exciting news! now you gotta deal with the fact you have a new 'husband' who could care less about this whole situation.

Word count; 1.6k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

The bell rings. There is tension in the air. Not because of a villain attack, no, there hasn't been one in days, but because all teachers have ordered all students back to the classrooms for an important discussion. No one knows what this is about and in this school, this could be anything. You pick up your bag and look around for any familiar faces hoping you can have a conversation about the situation, the lunch room is almost bare but you catch a familiar redhead and run up to him. “Hey Todoroki!” you smile at him giving him a small wave. He stops his movements and looks at you.

“Hi,” he says. It sounds very bland, you think, but what can you expect? Maybe he’s nervous as well.

“Can I walk with you to class? I’m nervous about this big discussion thing.” Todoroki starts walking but looks at you to continue the conversation so you take that as a yes and follow.

“What’s there to be nervous about?” you give him a face.

“What’s there? Are you for real asking me that right now?!” You turn to walk backward and face him. “I don’t know, let’s think. A Hero retires, A Hero has died, they are shutting down UA, a student has gone missing, the teachers are robots, and they want to recruit us!” It seems Todorokis's blank face has gotten even blanker.

“All those were completely reasonable until the last one. Do you always automatically think of the worst-case scenarios?”

“Well kinda but it’s not my fault.” you cross your arms, “you gotta think of the worse case scenarios when it comes to this line of work-!” you walking backwards didn’t notice how close you were getting to the classroom, which means you didn't notice the blond who was right near the door causing you to bump into him.

“Watch it bitch!” Bakugou pushes you away causing you to fall about into Todoroki.

“Alright asshole I’m not a freaking domino! You didn't need to push me!” you yell back in defense moving away from Todoroki. All Bakugou can do is give a scowl and walk into the classroom. “I Know I said it but I’m gonna say it again. What an asshole.” Todoroki nods following you into the classroom.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

“Alright class I regret to inform you that the school board has decided that not only is it not enough we teach you hero skills we must now domesticate you. Following your continued hero work you will now be paired with someone who will be your fake married partner. You will have your dorms, each including bedrooms that only you can access with your thumbprint. You will be monitored with a sensor. If you can’t get along and you get no points or even worse, negative points you fail the semester. Which means no work study. No fighting.” Aizawa slips into his sleeping bag unusually quickly. The class is quiet for a moment before yelling commences. Questions are yelled and it isn't until Aizawas face looks annoyed it gets silent. The room is quiet enough you can hear other classrooms having the same reaction you all just had. You can’t help but think you were so far off in your assumptions and at this point you wish a hero was retiring. “I will answer questions but I am not talking over all of you.” Hands are quickly raised.

“What happens if you are paired up with someone insufferable?” Yaoyorozu asks, she’s bold but the majority of the class was thinking about it.

“To help encourage points if a pair can get over a 100 and have an overall ‘A’ Grade, you and your partner have the option to switch pairs with another group who is also in an overall ‘A’ Grade.” You and a couple of people sigh. It’s a relief.

“How does this Sensor work?” Midoriya asks, noting that he already has his notebook out on his desk.

“It looks like a camera, but it’s not. Created by some tech-savvy departments, it can sense and scan emotions and calculate to decide what points a pair shall receive. For example, if the pair gets into an argument, the machine with scan picks up what it needs to and calculates it into the point system. And more Mumbo jumbo.”

“So why exactly is this happening?” You ask.

“The school board wants to show what it’s like to balance the life you all hopefully will have when you graduate while still being a hero… there is more to it but that's neither here nor there. Pairings will be posted in a few. I need a nap.” And that's it. Aizawa closes his sleeping bag and the class is left with dreed until the pairings come out.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

A knock is heard at the door and Aizawa slowly unzips his sleeping bag and answers the door, grabbing the paper and walking in front of the class. Everyone is quiet. Aizawa tapes the paper onto the board. “Some of you are paired with people in here and others are paired with others in other classes. I want absolutely no complaints. Next to your name is the room of your dorms.” As you would expect he goes back into his sleeping bag and the room is engulfed in chaos, everyone runs to the board, adrenaline running to see who they got. Gradually pairs start forming some cheers and some blushing tension. You get to the board and scan the paper. Down at the bottom in black ink ‘Y/N L/N and Katsuki Bakugou room 381’

“You gotta be fucking joking.” Of course, you two find your names at the same time. Why does he sound so disgusted, you're a fucking treat! You are about to remark him but before you can Aizawa comes out of his sleeping bag.

“It looks like you all found your names. Class is going to start now, so go back to your seats.” Are we just going to act like nothing just happened?!

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

The class had ended, and the girls and you were walking to your new dorms with some of your things from your old dorms. You were quiet, way too quiet for someone to notice.

“Girl you okay?” Ochaco hugs your arm, “normally you are leading our conversations.”

“No, duh, she’s quiet! She's got Bakugou as her husband,” you say silently, wondering if Mina could be any louder.

“I’m gonna die. Or my eardrums are gonna die. Either way, something is dying!” You can’t help but complain.

“What’s the deal with you both anyway?” Kyoka questions, “Normally people can have at least one decent conversation with Bakugou, But I’ve never seen you guys even hold a simple conversation. He won’t even communicate in battle with you? And he communicates with Midoriya.”

“I honestly don’t even know.” Truth is you did know and it was an embarrassing story that no one can get out of you. You went to middle school with both Bakugou and Midoriya. Over time and God knows how this happened you gained a crush on him and decided it would be a brilliant idea to confess. When you did it was a total embarrassment not only did he laugh in your face and shut you down, but He told those punk friends of his and they made your middle school life an embarrassment. You swore since that day he was your enemy. Childish yes? But still partly true to this day.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

You wave the girls goodbye and look at your new dorm you share with your new ‘Husband.’ You can’t help but think how ironic this is. You take a deep breath and enter the dorm. In the dorm is surprisingly a kitchen to your left and a small living room area in front with a door leading out to a balcony. Bakugou is sitting on the couch in the living room. It’s clear he’s already made himself comfortable with how he's sprawled out he is. You decided it’s just best to wait it out in your room and make yourself dinner once he goes to bed. You look and see two doors one with your name on it and another with Bakugou’s to the right of the living room area, you start walking over to your respective door.

“Don’t expect shit out of me.”

“I never expect anything out of you.”

“EXCUSE ME?!” Bakugou stands up facing you, “Who do you think you are saying that?!”

“If you aren't gonna put in any effort I’m gonna say whatever I want to you assface!” You both hear a ding. You didn't notice it before but over the TV is a point counter. Negative one. Not even five minutes into the dorm and you have negative points. “Oh now look what you did!”

“I didn't do that!”

“Yeah, you did!”

“Not my fault I don’t wanna do this stupid ass simulation. I just wanna be a Hero. Number one hero at that. A family and wife-” he points at you, “is just a stupid distraction from that and I don’t need this.” you roll your eyes and walk into your room, “DON’T WALK AWAY FROM ME!” and you slam your door. You place your stuff down on your new bed and sit down putting your hands to your face. Your blushing?! Why the fuck are you blushing? Is it because he called you his wife? Which is stupid and just delusional, did you not hear what he said? A million thoughts are running through your head as you question yourself but nothing can deny the feelings in your stomach.

#mha bakugou #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katuski #bnha #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha x reader #mha #boku no hero academia

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 10 days

Note

your ghoul fics have me in a fuckin chokehold 😭😩 there's nothing i love more in life than a scary sexy man w questionable morals

not to be horny in anon but like... imagine the reader, after having been traveling together for a while, being an insufferable brat for a couple days, just tap dancing on coop's last nerve- but he's not gonna get rid of you, he's seen you in action, despite his lone-ranger status, you're too useful. too skilled. too good at surviving in the wasteland as a vaultie for this not to have been destined. at least that's what he tells himself to avoid facing the fact that, well, poor bastard caught feelings. basically this is a long winded way of me saying boot riding as punishment, cause the man deserves a free polish 😶

Grunt Work

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Vault Dweller Reader

Word Count: 3,920

Warnings: smut (18+), BDSM-style dynamics, boot riding, masturbation (male), begging, mild hair pulling, mild cum play, Cooper is a softie (but a pissed off softie).

Notes: Anon, I wish you would've been here to see me read this request for the first time. I think a small part of my brain exploded. How did this become 4,000 words? It may have turned out softer than you envisioned (not the first time I've given that preface/apology and it certainly won't be the last; The Ghoul is soft deep inside and you cannot tell me otherwise!), and if so, I hope you still enjoy. Thank you for reading!

Every day with this girl was an exercise in self-restraint.

Granted, the type of self-restraint varied greatly from day to day, hour to hour. From the moment he had agreed to do business with the vaultie, she'd been testing his patience, his boundaries, his sense of what was normal.

Generally, he quite liked it. It was actually endlessly refreshing, he found, to spend time with someone who treated him like he was human, who he felt comfortable enough to actually relax a bit around. Someone who still had some sunshine left in them. Slowly, agonizingly so, they'd developed a bit of a rapport, then a genuine trust, which had eventually (and somewhat recently, given the scope of all the months they'd been traveling together) bloomed into more. What you'd call that "more", he wasn't really certain.

It had been the first time he'd allowed himself any sort of dalliance in that area since he'd divorced Barb all those years ago, and it had been both amazing and heartbreaking. Establishing that new attachment with his little vaultie had been the first time in lifetimes that he truly felt connected to his humanity, the way she'd kissed him and clung to him and sighed his name just like one would with any normal man.

He really had forgotten how wonderful it could be to be with someone, to let them get as close as they possibly could, even though he looked the way he did, acted the way he did, and refused to take off anything besides his duster, his gloves, and his hat.

He knew, deep down somewhere, that she wouldn't reject him simply for what his body looked like. Not at this point. Unfortunately, her feelings about his body didn't really change his feelings about his body. Still, getting to feel her and hold her close had been even better than he'd imagined.

But that new moment of connection, that next and first step, also meant he was fully closing the door on his time with Barb; he'd always been faithful to her, even after they'd split, since he'd really had no interest in dating again in the time after the paperwork was finalized. Then the world had ended and wasn't even a thought in his mind for ages. It had taken him months to even see the advances the girl had been making towards him, months more to reciprocate them.

As asinine as it would seem, becoming this close, actually giving himself to someone else physically and emotionally, made his two-centuries old divorce finally feel real. His ex-wife could still well be out there somewhere, as far as he knew, but they'd never be together again, even if by some wild chance they were reunited. Those special feelings he'd once held so deeply for her were no more.

When his companion had finally fallen asleep that night, tucked naked and warm against his side and wrapped in the tail of his duster, he had shed a few tears, something he genuinely didn't believe he was still capable of.

She didn't seem to be sleeping as deeply as she typically did that night, but if she'd overheard his incredibly vulnerable moment, she never let on or brought it up, and he was endlessly grateful for it.

Maybe he was just growing soft with old age.

She was also quite the burgeoning Wastelander, a shockingly good scavenger with a sharp eye for value and utility, small enough to fit in places that he couldn't, her little hands quick at hacking terminals and picking locks. But, despite her small size, she was quite strong, able to handle herself far better in most fights than he'd ever expected a vault-dweller to be capable of. He didn't necessarily need to watch over her every single second, but the urge persisted, nevertheless. Seeing her safe, seeing her happy, those things gave him a strange sense of inner peace that he hadn't felt in ages. It had become second nature to hover around her.

Besides, as of late, keeping an eye on her every second seemed to be his best bet to stay alive. He was genuinely unsure if his girl (Was that what she was?) had been dealing with an especially bad streak of luck over the last week, or what, but she was rapidly grating on his nerves much more usual.

First, she had managed to nose her way into a yao guai den and set the thing off chasing her, resulting in him taking a pretty nasty swipe to the side before they could put it down, several foot-long tears in his already worse-for-wear coat. However, she'd apologized profusely, spent a few hours that night mending and patching up his coat. He found it impossible to stay mad at her through either.

Then, she'd done the exact same thing a few days later, but with a pack of nightstalkers. He'd nearly lost a finger helping her fight them off, the shitty little things infinitely more tough than one might expect. After that, she was officially no longer in charge of picking where they slept, an arrangement he hadn't been fully aware he'd entered into until he'd had to put his foot down about it. Whatever, she'd pouted a bit and insisted it wasn't her fault. He didn't love how little she spoke to him when she was pouting, and her resolve for keeping at such things was irritatingly strong, but what bothered him more was how well it worked.

Eventually, he'd apologized for snapping at her. That night, she chose where they slept. He tried to not think too long on why he'd let her.

He didn't fully understand why he found himself acting this way around her, and only her. All he knew for sure was that he'd be devastated to lose her, as chagrined as the admission made him, and so he did his best to make things pleasant to keep her around.

What she'd pulled today, however, had managed to officially piss him off.

After a long week of iffy sleep and more scrapes with wildlife and fiends than usual, they had both been a tad testy by the time they'd reached the shabby little trading outpost at the edge of the Wastes, one of the last places you could reliably stop for clean water and supplies in this section of the desert going the way they'd come from. It was also a reliable place for him to obtain vials, and had come in handy to a life-saving degree more than once.

The girl had gotten slick-mouthed with the proprietor over the price of some fancy machine parts she'd scrounged up, insisting that they were worth far more than he was offering her. Granted, she was right; the man was attempting to swindle her, to some degree, but frankly, the damn things were cumbersome and heavy and he wouldn't even call the price she could theoretically get for them worth hauling them around in the heat. If it were him, he wouldn't have dragged them all this way, and would certainly ditch them now.

For reasons he couldn't fathom, though, her solution to the man offhandedly threatening to just keep the damn things had been to pull her pistol on him, which, of course, had set off an entire chain of unnecessary events. The owner's gun had come out, as well, then Cooper's, despite him actually trying to talk the situation down for once.

The man wouldn't relent, however, and he had been forced to shoot his hand off to end the conflict without her blood being spilled. Well, maybe not completely forced, but it certainly felt that way at the time. That particular trading outpost had been incredibly useful to him for well over a decade, and now he wouldn't be able to return.

If it had been anyone else, he probably would have shot them.

Not probably. He would have shot them.

But instead, here he was, tucked into a creaky old UV-eaten lawn chair, smoking and trying to disguise how unsettlingly happy he was to finally have some safe alone time with her beneath his annoyance at being inconvenienced. If there was one thing he hated, it was being inconvenienced. But, if there was one thing he greatly enjoyed, it was her company, so he was at a bit of an impasse.

It was moments like this where he wondered if he'd finally poisoned his brain with too much Jet or any other number of substances, the haze that consumed him every moment around her thick. Even now, when he was angrier with her than he'd ever been at any point in their travels, he couldn't focus on his legitimate grievance because he wanted her so badly. It was the single most irksome thing he'd ever experienced.

She was quickly sniffing out this weakness of his, perceptive little minx that she was. Increasingly, she was quick to soothe his bad moods with little touches and kisses, and it made him melt embarrassingly every single time. He'd been livid and silent as they'd trudged away from the building, both of them covered in rapidly-cooling blood spatter, when she'd brushed her hand along his back softly; a sort of apology, he supposed. Since then, his main source of anger had been himself and his lack of resolve when it came to this particular woman.

The old cowboy was determined to teach her a lesson today, though.

He'd spent the better part of an hour checking their perimeter once they'd come across this place, and the little sniper's nest where they were holed up had a great view of the area. It certainly wasn't much, little more than a rusty metal panel jammed between some rocks, a mattress, a chair, and a radio. But for the first time in a few weeks, things were safe, quiet, and calm. They had plenty of rations between the two of them, and water wasn't as much of a concern as it had been on their way in. She was so comfortable that she'd actually shed her boots and socks, her dainty little feet curled up underneath her as she nibbled away at something under the ramshackle "roof".

Now was the time. He just had to wait for the opportunity.

"You've been quiet since we left the traders." she said after a while of companionable, though mildly terse, silence. It wasn't a question, but at the same time very much was, and the casual, roundabout way she was addressing what was her own actions made him scowl slightly.

"You've been a pain in my ass these last few days, sugar." he said flatly, glaring at her as best as he could from under the brim of his hat. "Should be happy I've just been quiet now."

She actually rolled her eyes slightly, but clearly didn't think he'd seen it, keeping silent as she continued to eat. Increasingly bold for someone within grabbing distance. Cooper let a few seconds pass, studying her.

"Y'know, when I was in the marines, if you were a little shitheel, they'd make you do grunt work." he said eventually, voice matter-of-fact.

She pursed her lips at that, finishing up the can of beans she'd been steadily tucking into.

"I don't think I know what that is." she replied almost absentmindedly.

"It's the shit work no one ever wanted to do, so being assigned to it was intended as a punishment. Scrubbin' floors, toilets. Peelin' potatoes. Polishin' boots."

She chuckled at his anecdote as if it were meant to be entertaining, but the way he let her laugh hang in the silence, staring her down as she sat there curled up beside him, said otherwise. After a moment, she sort of narrowed her eyes at him, her tone low, almost conspiratory, when she asked:

"What're you playing at, cowboy?"

"I'm sayin' you're in trouble, cowgirl." he replied, reaching out to hold her chin solidly in his grip and watching her pout. "I'm sayin' that I think a little grunt work would do you and that attitude of yours some good, and I'm sayin' that I think you should polish my boots."

"Polish your boots?" she repeated, wrapping her tongue around each of the words like they were foreign to her.

"Pretty sure there ain't a functioning toilet within a hundred miles of where we're sitting, and I ain't got any potatoes. So…"

"You can't be serious." she said, her eyes full of curious suspicion as she looked him up and down.

Releasing her chin, the old ghoul set to removing his gloves, tugging his second hand free and using his naked pointer finger to draw a little 'x' over his heart.

"Serious as the grave, darlin'."

There were a few pregnant seconds of them staring one another down, waiting for the other to bend, to flinch. She even lifted her chin towards him, just enough for him to pick up on, an unspoken challenge. God, she was so like him.

"Now…be good and take your clothes off." he smirked, brows raising when she made to argue in response. Her lips worked their way between her teeth as she hesitated before slowly dropping all her armor from her arms and torso, then drawing the dirty shirt underneath over her head.

"Is that better, Coop?" she asked, letting her hair down out of the knot she'd tied it up into on top of her head, the strands framing her face as she worked him over again with those eyes of hers. Pulling herself up into a standing position, he did his best to ignore the way her bare breasts moved and dipped with gravity.

"Mmm. I think it would be more fittin' if you called me 'sir', frankly."

"You cannot be serious!" she insisted again, indignant as she slid the zipper on her trousers down, her tone making him chuckle despite himself. She just didn't know when to quit, and it was fucking adorable.

"Am I ever unserious?" he asked, ignoring the look she shot him back in favor of watching her slowly work the worn pants down over the curve of her ass, dropping them into a pile around her feet and leaving her standing there as naked as the day she was born. He felt his already-stiffening cock twitch slightly, resisting the urge to rub himself through the faded pinstripes of his pants. This was supposed to be a punishment for her, and doing that would give her too much opportunity to distract him.

"Aww, c'mon, boss." she sighed, pressing at a hidden button of his, cocking her head and sending that silky curtain around her face glinting in the light.

"I mean it, missy. You fucked up pretty bad today, and you need to be punished for it. And what did I just say?" he responded, fighting hard to keep his voice even and body still.

"Well…what else would you have in mind as a punishment, sir?" she purred as she stepped back towards him, batting those long, dark lashes his way. He managed to keep his eyes on hers and off of her body, a task that felt herculean as the ache in his gut grew more intense. For a split second, he wanted to give in to her, to pin her to the ground and fuck the attitude out of her like he'd wanted to for days. But there would be plenty of time for that later.

"I promise you that if you knew your other options, darlin', you'd choose this." he replied, finishing his smoke and tossing the butt away. Digging his inhaler out for a quick puff, he finally removed his hat and set it aside, reclining just enough to allow his feet to stick out a few inches in front of him.

She huffed at her little ploy failing to work, crossing her arms and cocking her hip slightly. Cooper's teeth dug into the inside of his cheek to keep back a grin.

"Well, are you gonna take them off?" she demanded.

He couldn't hold back his smirk at that, his head cocking as he continued to stare her down.

"Just how long are you gonna keep playin' dumb? You know it's gonna get cold when it gets dark."

Studying her face, he could see the faint lines of confusion there, and wondered if maybe she really didn't know what he meant.

"There's a reason I wanted you naked, honey, and it ain't just the view."

Though it certainly didn't hurt.

It took a few long, long seconds of her looking him up and down, wondering, but eventually the glow of realization lit up her face, followed by more brow furrowed confusion.

"How would that even work?" she asked, though her tone was more curious than argumentative.

"I suppose you'll figure it out, huh? Askin' an awful lot of questions for someone who's about to be freezin' their twat off in about half an hour." he said, watching with apparent glee as she fidgeted in place, pulling another cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it.

Still attempting to make a stand, she didn't move, chewing away at that bottom lip as she hesitated there. He could smell that she was already turned on.

"Go on. Get to work." he ordered softly, exhaling smoke through his nose, staring into her eyes.

After a heartbeat, she seemed to accept her fate and slowly lowered herself down onto her knees in front of him. That, too, made his cock jump. Her cheeks had a visible rosy hue as she clearly struggled to arch herself at the right angle to make proper contact; after a few long seconds of her huffy sighs, he took mercy on her and tilted the toe of his boot more skyward, allowing her to begin to rub herself back and forth across the dusty leather in earnest.

He watched as her face slowly morphed from mildly confused concentration to blossoming arousal, the tint in her cheeks growing until it consumed her entire face.

"How does it feel?" he asked quietly, taking another long drag off of his smoke.

"It feels good." she huffed, a light sheen of sweat glinting on her soft skin.

He reached out and grabbed a fistful of her hair at that, squeezing just enough to make her gasp, her eyes flying open to gaze up at him, wide and wet.

"Feels good what?" he demanded. "Given you an awful lot of chances on that, kid. Y'know, insubordination usually calls for more severe punishment."

"It feels good, sir." she replied, her hips stuttering slightly as she struggled to move them with her head fixed in place, her eyes falling shut again. He found it a little surprising that the mild pain hadn't stopped her or made her complain more. If anything, she'd seemed to like it. He took note of that for later.

"Tsk. Well, it's supposed to be a punishment, but I guess I can't help it if a little freak like you gets off on polishin' my boots. Guess I did know a guy in the service who really liked bein' made to scrub the floor, but, between you and me, I think he might've had a little thing for bein' pushed around and told what to do." Cooper's voice fell to a secretive murmur as he spoke to her, watching her eyes dart away as he teased her.

However, as he watched her slide herself back and forth across his foot, he found it more and more difficult to resist the urge to touch himself. When her eyes didn't open for several minutes, focused entirely on the sensation, it would seem, he took the opportunity to palm his cock, his hips eventually beginning to rock against his hand. That movement caught her attention, her gaze burning into him as she watched; this was a button of hers for whatever reason. Feeling emboldened and somewhat sure that she was too distracted to cause trouble, he quickly undid his belt and fly and tugged his erection free, a shiver running down his spine as he gave himself a few experimental pumps in the cooling air.

Unfortunately, he'd underestimated how coherent she still was, her head remaining low, but her right hand creeping up his leg towards his hand. He jerked his chin towards her, sending her jumping back a bit. However, she didn't look fearful, more chastened.

"Don't. You. Fuckin'. Dare." he growled, his hand not stilling for a moment. "If you touch me, I'm gonna put you over my knee and spank your little ass until you can't sit right for a week."

His threats only seemed to make her hotter, a throaty moan leaving her as she began to hump his boot with increased speed, all attempts at preserving any semblance of her dignity abandoned in the pursuit of her orgasm. The grip he was maintaining on himself tightened, and a growl ripped out of his chest in response as he fought to keep his eyes open and on her. If he could still sweat, he'd be pouring it just like her.

Cooper's leg jerked involuntarily as a particularly strong wave of pleasure shot up his spine, digging the toe of his boot harder into her weeping little slit, and she keened in response, her body beginning to twitch all over like it did when she was nearing her end.

"You close, honey? You wanna cum?" he asked feverishly, rapidly sprinting towards his own finish line.

She nodded rapidly, her breasts heaving with her strained breath as her nails dug into his thigh.

"Please, please, please..." she breathed over and over.

"Look at you, just cleaned the thing and you're about to make a mess all over it because you're such a needy little slut." he chastised, breaking down into a harsh whisper as he seized her by her hair once more, his cig hanging loosely from his lips. "Go on, baby. Cum all over my boot."

The labored whine she let out as she lost herself all over him, and the blissful way her face contorted as she cried out, was more than enough to finish him off, his release spurting all over his hand and stomach. They both growled and groaned their way through their shared release, her collapsing against the inside of his leg as she panted heavily. Working to control his own breathing, he let his head fall completely back with a blunted "thud" against the frame of the chair, releasing his grip on her head.

After a few quiet moments, they both rather sheepishly peeked at one another. He held his spend-covered hand up in front of her face, the mess catching the fading light as he reached out towards her.

"You're gonna have to clean that up, too." he said softly, rubbing some of the slickness across her lips, barely holding back a groan when the little pink tip of her tongue darted out to lap at his fingers as they passed by.

"Mmm. Yes, sir." she responded, gently laying her temple against the side of his knee, those big, round eyes slowly slipping shut. Cooper reached out and laid his palm against her head, petting her now-rumpled hair with more affection than he'd like to admit, admiring her in the golden-red hue of the evening sun.

"Don't get too comfy there, sweetheart." he said after a few quiet moments, his cock beginning to stir again. "Don't forget, I've got another boot."

#cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #ghoulcy #vaultghoul #fallout tv show #fallout prime #submission

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britany1997 · 2 months

Text

Signed, Sealed, Delivered…I’m Yours

Paul x GN Selkie Reader

Paul x creature partner is my favvvv, think he would be so cute with a selkie reader🥰🥰 hope y’all love this! Not sure if there will be more yet but I plan to keep it fluffy regardless:)

(Also Paul is on the Santa Carla ocean conservation board because of Fishy, so he’s an advocate for all sea creatures🥹)

Warnings: reader is mentioned to be nude a couple times because in selkie lore, they are when they shed their seal skin🤷🏻‍♀️ (readers body not described)

Paul’s teeth tore into the skin of some asshole’s neck. He was sure at one point he’d known his name, but after an endless night of sharing joints, it was long forgotten.

Paul wasn’t picky about his blood, but stoners were his filet mignon. They had a sweet and spicy flavor, and they always left him with a buzz.

This one was yummy, but he’d been insufferable. He wore a scarf and wire rimmed glasses he didn’t need, he was a philosophy major who’d met both of his girlfriends in his gender studies class, and ten minutes into their conversation, he’d explained to Paul that it was actually pronounced “Van Goff” and not “Van Go.” Paul had quickly moved him from his smoke circle list to his dinner list.

As he sucked the last drops out of Mr. Pretentious, Paul let his body fall to the sandy ground underneath the boardwalk.

He checked his watch, there was still time before sunrise. Paul couldn’t think of anything better to do with the rest of his night then ride out his high on the beach.

Dwayne seemed to like it after all.

Paul snuck away from his dumping grounds and began to stumble towards the shore.

He paused, rubbing his eyes.

He had to be hallucinating, because reclining on the sand was the most attractive person he’d ever seen in his unlife…

…totally naked. God what was in that weed.

He rubbed his eyes again. You were still there.

So this was why Dwayne loved the beach so much.

You were radiant. Alluring in a way that made Paul swear he’d dreamed you up. No person was that perfect. He was over the moon instantly.

A look of pure determination washed over his face as he desperately tried to conjure the words to speak to you. He scowled as he thought this would have been a lot easier if he was sober.

After a few minutes, he realized he’d better come up with something quick because he’d been fumbling around behind you for an almost unacceptable amount of time.

Just as he was about to approach you, he watched you shiver as a cool breeze blew past. Your arms crossed over yourself, rubbing your shoulders as you tried to keep warm.

Paul softened. He may have been a bloodthirsty, vicious vampire. But dammit, he was also a gentle man.

His eyes scanned the shore until they landed on a sleek leather coat.

Paul strode to your side and picked up the coat, smoothing it out a little.

You whirled around, fear blooming in your chest at the sight of a strange man holding your coat, your only escape to the ocean.

But instead of keeping the coat for himself, he flashed you a warm smile and held it out to you.

“You must be freezing,” he said, maintaining impressive eye contact as your naked body graced the sand.

Your jaw dropped. You’d heard many horror stories from elder selkies about the cruel and savage human men who would hunt down stunning selkies, only to take their coats and lock them away. Confining the selkies to the land, and shackling them to the men who’d stolen from them.

The captured selkies would be forced to live as humans while their hearts ached desperately for the world beneath the water.

You’d met some of your kind who’d suffered this terrible fate and escaped, but some you knew had never returned.

But this sweet, handsome man, he was giving you your coat? You’d never heard of such a kind human man.

You took the coat from his hands, half expecting him to yank it back, but he didn’t, he let you take it. “Thank you,” you uttered reverently, folding the coat over your arms.

“No problem baby,” his smile widened, “what’s a babe like you doing out here so late?”

Your eyes narrowed in confusion. “I- I’m not a baby,” you told him. You had thought you looked like any regular adult human in this form.

Paul’s eyes widened, “oh uh, no sorry that’s not what I meant,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s like uh…well you know it’s a nickname.”

He was wayyy to high for this.

“Nick…name?” You rubbed your temples, “but my name is not nick…” you trailed off, confused.

Paul’s head was pounding. “No, sugar, it’s like um…it’s like a nice thing to call someone you know?”

Your face flashed with something Paul thought resembled understanding as you nodded slowly.

“Damn babe, you from outer space or somethin?” He asked, only half-joking.

“No,” you replied.

“Mkay,” he shrugged, hey he had secrets too, one of them was currently decomposing under the boardwalk.

He noticed your shoulders shake before realizing the coat was still in your arms, “you’re not gonna put that on sweetheart?” he asked.

Your lips pulled downward. You weren’t ready to change back yet. Not when you were having such a wonderful time with this man. He was teaching you important human things. You figured you’d better stick around.

You vigorously shook your head no.

Paul mirrored your frown. He couldn’t let you freeze to death. “Alright baby well at least take mine,” he offered as he shrugged out of his own jacket and placed it around your shoulders.

You could have melted into a puddle right there.

This man hadn’t just returned your coat. He’d given you his coat as well. What a strong man he must be to brave the cold. He would be the perfect mate.

You practically purred as he buttoned the jacked around your shoulders. You leaned in to nuzzle against his shoulder. “You’re so strong” you hummed, “so warm, so handsome.”

God bless the beach.

Paul beamed, “yeah baby? I hit the gym every now and again, nothin special.” He flexed his bicep with a smirk.

“Mmm,” you hummed, moving closer to press your cheek to his chest, wrapping your arms around him, desperate to be close.

A goofy smile spread across Paul’s face as he couldn’t imagine a man on earth as lucky as he was.

Then he remembered. Daylight.

His watch confirmed his fears, it was time to go.

“Listen sugar, I could do this all night but I’ve gotta get going,” he cursed his Sun intolerant vampire body, “but give me your number honey and I’ll call you anytime.”

You glanced up at him, confusion written all over your face. “Which number do you want?” You asked.

His brow furrowed, “home, cell, work, whatever you have babe.”

“Three?” You guessed.

Paul shook his head in disbelief.

“Let’s try this, where do you live baby?” He asked.

You smiled, you knew this one.

“With you,” you purred, wrapping yourself around him once more.

Paul raised an eyebrow, “what?”

“I live with you now,” you informed him.

Paul stood still for a second, processing as you held him.

“Yeah ok,” he said, taking your hand and tugging you toward his motorcycle. Best night ever.

TLB Taglist❤️: (comment to be added)

@6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @crustyboypix @arenpath @anna1306 @bloodywickedvamp @kurt-nightcrawler @ria-coolgirl @gothamslostboy @vampirefilmlover @lostboys1987girl @solobagginses @dwaynedelight @dwaynesluscioushair @warrior-616 @sad-ghost-of-garbage @chiefdirector @its-freaking-bats @arbesa-mind @f4iryfxies @mickkmaiden333 @bitchyexpertprincess @katerinaval @rynsfandomsfun @softchonk @walmart-cereal @fraudfrog @memphiscity69

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moonstruckme · 8 months

Text

On Thin Ice

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

This was requested by anon, but I'm not including the request because I'm going to write at least one more part and I don't want to spoil anything. But thanks so much for requesting, anon my love! I'm really having fun with it :) Also, just a disclaimer that I know next to nothing about figure skating, so while I tried to look most things up, there may be some inaccuracies

summary: when your usual figure skating partner Regulus is injured, you're forced to prepare the most romantic routine you've ever done with Sirius Black. You've known Sirius since you were little and have always found him irritating, but as you spend more and more time together, your feelings towards him start to change

cw: mention of injury (no details), Sirius Black is a relentless flirt

Figure Skater!Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 3.3k words

You want to be kinder to your friend, but you’re a bit angry with him. You’re not great at hiding it, either.

“It’s not like I can fucking help it.” Regulus rolls his eyes, and you do your best to undo the petulant pout of your lips.

“I know,” you sigh. “I know that. I’m sorry, it’s just, seriously? Why can’t Coach give me someone else?”

“You know why.”

You blow out another huffy breath, because you do know, but that doesn’t make you like it any better. Sirius is our best bet, your coach had told you, firm and impassive to your protests. He’s great on the ice, he always scores well, and Reg can teach him the routine while they’re at home. If we used anyone else, we’d lose time while they learned it. You’d sulked, and he’d given you a stern look. So suck it up.

And you’re trying. Kind of. You wouldn’t ordinarily consider yourself an ill-tempered person, but Sirius Black brings out the worst in you. Always has. He’s Regulus’ irritating older brother, always around to pull your pigtails when you were little and make fun of everything you and Reg enjoyed as you got older. And in everything you love about your best friend, Sirius is the opposite. Where Regulus is restrained, Sirius is brash; where Regulus is content with a few close friends, Sirius needs an entire posse around him at all times; where Regulus has a quick, quiet wit, Sirius seems to feel a joke isn’t worth telling if everyone can’t hear it. He’s loud and facetious and insufferable, and now he’s your partner in the most intimate routine you’ve ever done.

“I know,” you groan again, falling back onto Regulus’ bed. “I just wish I could change it. Who do I have to bribe to get you a miracle recovery?”

Regulus scoffs, but he lies down beside you sympathetically. “The doctor said it should be better by next season, but a fractured ankle doesn’t fix itself in a couple weeks.” His voice turns bitter. “Trust me, I asked.”

You wince guiltily. You’re not the only one suffering from Regulus’ incapacity. You’d both been practicing this routine for weeks. It was one of the most challenging and showy either of you have ever done. You were both supposed to have the chance to really shine, showing off your skills with complicated jumps and throws, some of which you’d never attempted before. But now Reg wouldn’t get the change.

Ironically, it had been a fairly simple routine that had taken him down. One of your go-tos. You’d been performing it together for years, but maybe that sense of security was dangerous too. It’s too easy to land wrong, and one tiny slip had fractured Regulus’ ankle right in the middle of competition, forcing your coach to come help you get him off the ice.

You’d cried more than he had as the on-site medics had inspected it, completely unhelpful but unable to bear seeing your best friend’s features twisted in agony. It turned out that was nothing compared to the look on his face when they’d told him he wouldn’t be able to skate on it for months.

“How does it feel?” you ask, more gently now, and Regulus’ scowl softens in response. “Does it still hurt all of the time?”

“Not really, only when I walk on it. And they said I should be able to do that without much pain soon, just no jumping or anything.”

Your heart aches with sympathy, and you have to resist the urge to reach over and touch his hand, his hair. Regulus has never much liked being touched, which you understand, but it makes him a difficult person to comfort. You resort to your method with the highest success rate: distraction.

“Well, at least the cast is a fun accessory,” you say, forcing levity into your voice. “We could draw on it, it’ll be like having tattoos.”

“Pass,” Reg replies disinterestedly. “Tattoos are more my brother’s aesthetic than mine.”

“Ugh.” You roll your eyes, unable to stopper your irritation at the return of the conversation to Sirius. “Do you think Coach will let me have a new partner if I kneecap him?”

“If you’re going to kneecap someone,” comes a cool voice from the open doorway, “it’s probably best not to ponder your scheme so loudly in their house.”

You raise your head to find Sirius leaning against the door frame, arms crossed insouciantly in front of his chest. He looks at you with the eyes he shares with his brother, but where Regulus’ tend towards cool grayness, Sirius’ always seem to waver between gray and blue, like the sky during a storm. They’re flashing now, amusement mingled with cunning, as you meet them with a glare.

“Maybe I’m just giving you a red herring,” you say smoothly, “so you’ll never see my actual plan coming.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you, shortcake,” Sirius replies, grinning when your face goes hot at the nickname, “but I think I’ll start wearing protective gear just in case. Reg, think you could revoke this one’s key until after the competition?”

Regulus pretends to contemplate this, staring up at the ceiling. “No, she’ll only start coming in through my window again.” You grin at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches in response, remembering all the cuts and bruises you used to have when you were younger from climbing the old tree outside his window, late at night when you were both supposed to be asleep. The first few times you’d tried, rotting branches had broken and fallen from beneath you, but you’d kept at it until you’d plotted a safe course. You’re sure Reg would have snuck downstairs to let you in the front door if you’d ask him, but better you get in trouble than him. “Anyway, it’ll be entertaining to watch.”

“Whatever happened to brotherly loyalty?” Sirius feigns hurt, but gets past it quickly. “Well, I suppose you’ll just have to keep in mind that if I can’t perform, there won’t be a performance. I’ve already learnt half the routine, and I think you might struggle to find someone else skilled enough to catch up in time.” He winks at you, and you scoff, pointedly unaffected. “So I’ll see you at practice on Monday, sunshine,” he gloats, and disappears down the hallway.

You wait until you hear the click of his door to lay back down, passing a hand over your face exhaustedly. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to deal with that all of the time,” you moan.

Regulus chuckles wryly. “Welcome to my world.”

☆ ☆ ☆

“Y/N,” Coach calls frustratedly. “You have to let him throw you, not jump.”

You’ve almost just followed in Regulus’ footsteps for the upteenth time today, which isn’t exactly in line with your plan of getting Sirius injured, but you figure will do in a pinch. The truth is, your focus has been off all day. Switching to a new partner is always hard; you’re used to Regulus, you’ve spent years learning how to skate together, to anticipate the other’s movements, and finding that rhythm with another person takes work. But learning how to skate with Sirius is more challenging than even you had expected. He’s distracting, for one thing. He keeps smiling at you, making faces when you mess up, and whispering obnoxious little pointers when you’re in the middle of a complicated move. And his own movements are bigger and more elaborate than you’re used to, lacking Regulus’ control. You can see, objectively, how it works for him. It gives his performance that extra bit of artistry that Regulus has often been accused of needing, but it makes him more difficult to anticipate. He’s stronger than Reg, too, so he throws you higher, flings you farther, grips you tighter. It’s a lot to learn, but your coach doesn’t seem very sympathetic to your plight. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve wasted almost an entire day of practice and are undoing weeks of hard work learning the choreography with your repeated mistakes.

You nod at him again, moving to reset, but Sirius slides in front of you.

“Hey,” he says, “I can feel you tensing when I go to throw you. Is something wrong?”

You cross your arms in front of your chest, breath still puffing into the air between you from the exertion of your leap. “No,” you reply shortly. “I’ll fix it.”

And really, you should have been able to fix it a dozen tries ago. You’ve practiced throws with Regulus for years now. You’re supposed to push down on Sirius’ shoulders, use the momentum of your spin to give you a little boost, and let him do the rest. But you can’t seem to manage the last part. Sirius’ hands on your waist had discomposed you from the first try, and you keep finding yourself trying to jump off the ground before he has a chance to lift you. It doesn’t work, you know it’s never going to work, but it’s like some fight-or-flight instinct takes over every time Sirius’ hands get close to you. You suspect it’s because you’re so used to Regulus’ touch aversion; this routine is meant to seem romantic, but between the two of you, it had always felt chaste, more about the mechanics of the movements than the meanings behind them. Sirius loves to be touched, though, probably too much. He teases you about how cold your hand is in his, the tentative way you touch his shoulder when you’re supposed to grip it, how you jolt a little when he rests his hand on the small of your back. You’re on edge every second he’s around you, which by the very nature of the routine, is often.

And so you keep jumping, which causes Sirius’s throw to be stunted when he can’t get a good grip on you, which causes you to fumble your landing. Every. Time.

“You can trust me, you know,” Sirius persists, looking half earnest for once in his life. “I’m not going to launch you too high or anything. Just let me do the work.”

“I’ve got it,” you growl, and Sirius raises his hands in mocking surrender, moving out of your way. You glide back into position, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You don’t need his advice, you’ve been doing just fine without it for years. You’ll get it on your own.

☆ ☆ ☆

“Why is it,” Regulus drawls, coming into your room, “that when you mess up at practice, it’s still my problem to solve?” He sits on the edge of your bed, careful not to disturb the open bottle of nail polish you’re using. “I’m not even your partner right now, but both Coach and Sirius are complaining to me that you can’t sync up with him.”

You keep your eyes on your fingertips, sweeping the brush across your nails in careful, measured strokes. “I’m working on it.”

“What’s the problem?” He sounds more puzzled than frustrated. “Sirius is annoying, but he’s not actually an asshole. He won’t sabotage you.”

“I’m not accusing him of anything,” you say. “I just…I can’t get it right. I don’t know. He’s so different to you, and I can’t figure out how to make it work.”

“Well, you’d better figure it out soon,” Regulus replies, not without sympathy. “There’s only a couple of weeks until comp, and it seems like the both of you will need all the practice you can get together.”

You know he’s right, and that’s exactly what you’re dreading.

☆ ☆ ☆

The next practice goes about the same, the only difference being your coach’s mounting exasperation. Actually, no, there is one other change: Sirius’ movements become smoother, more sure, as he grows increasingly familiar with the choreography.

So basically, he’s getting better while you’re getting worse.

Though you all know there’s no time to waste with the competition coming up, Coach ends practice early in his irritation, letting you go with strict instructions to get your shit together before you meet again tomorrow. You promise him you’ll try, though you’re both coming to know that won’t be enough.

You take your time unlacing your skates, shrugging on your jacket and stopping to buy a hot chocolate from the vendor up front before going out into the brisk autumn air. You’d started this new routine after your first practice with Sirius, stalling so that he’d have a head start and you wouldn’t have to walk home in the same direction, but you take two steps outside before you realize your plan has been foiled.

“Coach will kill you if he catches you with one of those,” you say, and the cherry of Sirius’ cigarette burns orange as he takes a drag, eyes lighting with playful defiance.

He blows the smoke away from you. “You won’t tattle on me though, will you, sunshine?”

“Reg won’t like it either.”

“He knows,” Sirius says, as though Regulus’ opinion is of little concern to him. “You took your time in there. Ready to go?”

You don’t try to keep the suspicion from your face. “You were waiting on me?”

“I figure we could use some extra practice.” He drops his cigarette, stamping it out half smoked. “If you’re not too tired, I mean.” You give him an indignant look, and Sirius grins. “C’mon, it’s too cold out here for those leggings.”

You follow him reluctantly, sipping at your hot chocolate because damn it, he’s right. The wind had been cool when you’d gone into practice, but nightfall has stolen the little bit of warmth the sun provided. You wouldn’t be surprised if you woke tomorrow to find the trees prematurely bare of their leaves.

The Blacks’ house isn’t far, and your eager pace gets you there in a hurry. You’re thinking you’ll go to Regulus’ room as soon as you get inside, ditching Sirius and whatever humiliation he has planned for you, but when you approach the house, every window is dark.

“They’re at my aunt’s for dinner,” Sirius answers your unasked question, unlocking the door. “I begged off because of practice.” He laughs as you follow him inside. “Try not to look so happy about it, shortcake.”

You roll your eyes, starting up the stairs that go to the bedrooms. “When will Reg be home?”

“Late.” Sirius’ voice is close behind you. “You’re welcome to wait for him, of course, but we may as well make use of the time.” On the top step, you whirl, relishing the opportunity to look down on him for once.

“Fine. What are we doing here?”

You don’t know if you’d hoped he’d be intimidated, but Sirius appears as unbothered as always. “Like I said. Practice.” He brushes past you, leading the way into his bedroom. After a moment, you follow grudgingly.

Like everything about Sirius, his room is loud. Almost every inch of wall space is covered in band posters, medals from competitions, pictures of his friends. There are clothes strewn across the bed and shoes scattered about the floor, but if Sirius is even conscious of the mess, he doesn’t mention it.

“What did you have in mind?” you ask.

Sirius turns, and when his eyes meet yours, they’re surprisingly determined. “We need to figure out whatever it is that’s been holding you up,” he says. “We’ve gotta get past it.”

You feel like stomping your foot, but very maturely refrain. You’re about done with the subject of your failures for the day. “I don’t know what it is.”

“I think you do,” Sirius says cooly. “Wanna know how I know?”

“How?”

He grins. “Because you just admitted it.”

“You—I just asked how,” you splutter angrily.

Sirius gives you a knowing look. “Right, so it has nothing to do with you being afraid of me touching you?”

Your face heats. How could he know that? You look at him for a moment, and he looks back at you with that cool, even gaze, like he thinks he’s got you all figured out. As much as you resent him for it, he’s right. You’ve got no shot at a decent score in this competition if you can’t get past your mental block around Sirius. “I’m not afraid.” You roll your eyes, downplaying the admission. “I’m just not used to it, okay? I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but you’re not exactly a carbon copy of my usual partner.”

Sirius grins again, and for the first time you get the sense that he’s laughing with you instead of at you. “I have been made aware of that a few times over our lives, yes. But okay, you’re not used to it. Let’s get you used to it.”

You cross your arms over your chest, not sure where he’s going with this but fairly sure you won’t like it. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m going to throw you until you can handle it without flinching. Sound good?”

You look at him like he’s stupid. “The rink is closed, and there’s nowhere for me to land here.”

“Sure there is.” Sirius pats his bed cheerfully. You stay right where you are. Something changes in his expression, and you think you might detect a bit of kindness behind his teasing tone. “C’mon, sweetheart. I don’t know what Reggie’s told you, but I don’t actually bite.”

You huff, but go to stand in front of him. He’s shed his coat, revealing the plain black shirt underneath, and the sleeves grip his biceps. Even in the poor lamplight, you can see his eyes changing colors like schools of fish as they swim. Now blue, now gray.

“Alright.” Sirius sets his hands on your waist, and you tense automatically. “See, that’s the habit we have to break. Relax for me, shortcake.”

His words certainly don’t help, but you do your best, unclenching the muscles in your stomach and legs.

“Perfect,” he says, then launches you into the air. You barely have time to gasp before you’re landing on his bed, springs squealing in protest. “Okay, next time, try to spin or something.”

“I wasn’t ready,” you protest.

Sirius laughs. “I know. Sorry, couldn’t resist. Let’s try to do it like practice this time, yeah? So you go over there,” he motions to the door, “and run towards me. When I throw you, try to spin if you can, but don’t try to stick the landing or anything. Just land on your butt.”

You roll your eyes, moving to the door. “Yeah, I’m in no hurry to break my ankle like Reg, thanks.”

He winks. “Just making sure.” He spreads his feet a bit, bracing himself. “Alright, let’s give it a try.”

It’s easy to remember Sirius is an older brother when he gets all bossy like this, but you comply, gaining as much speed as you can on the way to him before he’s gripping you around the waist, tossing you into the air. You manage a half-turn before your back end hits the bed.

“Better!” Sirius exclaims, beaming at you. “You still seemed a bit tense, but at least you didn’t try to jump by yourself. Again?”

You can’t help a little smile of your own as you nod, pushing up off the bed and repositioning yourself at the door.

☆ ☆ ☆

When Regulus gets home, he finds you sprawled on Sirius’ bed with his brother sitting beside you, both thoroughly worn out.

“Did you fix it?” he asks.

You grin at the ceiling, wondering if it’s your pride or Sirius’ you’re feeling in the air, or both. “I think so.”

“Coach might get the chance to be mad at me instead, tomorrow,” Sirius laments. “My arms are fucking dead. Too many throws and I might drop you on the ice.”

“Don’t break my partner,” Regulus says warningly.

“Yeah,” you second, hauling yourself into a sitting position and going to meet Regulus at the door, “please don’t.”

You can hear Sirius’ eyes rolling as he says, “I won’t. See you at practice tomorrow, shortcake?”

It’s harder than usual to muster up annoyance for the teasing nickname. “See you tomorrow.”

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cupidsdolll · 2 months

Text

word count: 1.1k

summary: harry’s angry at the world, himself included and he makes it everyone’s problem but there might be a light coming in the middle of his storm

notes: this is part two of this fic so it is still considered a dark fic. it contains mentions of drinking to cope with his grief, violence inflicted onto others and a brief scene of it as well.

masterlist

- - - -

To say that Harry’s been miserable lately would be a huge understatement. He’s been absolutely insufferable in the past two weeks. He spends all day drinking and holed up inside his office, he’s grumpy and snappy with everybody and he’s even more mean whenever he has to take care of someone. It’s his release in a way, the one safe space he can let out his anger at the world, at the Gallegos for taking away his love, at himself for not doing more.

“Goddamn! Fuck!” He screams in the confines of his office. He down a shot of whiskey and quickly pours himself another one, the burn going down his throat is welcoming — encouraged is the better word for it. His chest rises and falls harshly as he stares at the picture of her. One he had taken a couple of months into knowing each other, a bright smile on her lips and her hair and dress flowing in the wind behind her as they walked through a park. She had wanted a picnic and he was a sucker for her smile, so of course he’d do it for her. It was all worth it in the end, to see the smile plastered on her face and the excitement in her eyes

He misses her terribly, the past week has been the hardest week ever and he doesn’t know if it’ll get any better. He allows the tears to fall freely, to stain his cheeks and the mahogany oak of his desk. It seems as if his tears are never ending, just becoming a permanent addition to his appearance. He can’t bring himself to care, too busy wallowing in his guilt and pain. He guesses he deserves it in a way, none of this would’ve happened if he’d been paying more attention, if they would’ve stayed home or better yet if he’d never given her his number.

He huffs sadly as he wipes his tears away the best he can, he can’t do anything about the stains left on his cheeks. He takes another shot of whiskey and heads towards his office door, he figures now is as good of a time as any, and really he just can’t wait to let out some tension. He walks out the room and down the hall, ignoring the eyes of the few employees gathered around the desk before rolling his eyes as they start whispering.

“Don’t you all have a fucking job to do? This isn’t Barbie’s show where we all sit around and look pretty.” He huffs before mumbling under his breath, watching them with crossed arms as they scramble to find something to do.

He continues walking then, taking deep breaths to try to hold back the tears threatening to fall. He can’t look weak in front of them. He walks past the framed pictures on the wall, past the rooms where clicking and the occasional scream filters through the closed doors until he gets to the last door in the hall. The dark wooden door detailed with swirls and large black handles is heavy as he pushes it open, but he enjoys the pain. His own form of punishment he guesses.

The room is filled with different tools and weapons, lights scattered all over the ceiling but still keeps the room dark enough. He prefers this environment to feel more like a horror movie than just a simple killing room, and wants it to feel eerie and depressing. He wants the room to inflict absolute sheer terror and feet into anyone who just so happens to end up strapped to the chair. His dress shoes click against the concrete floor, echoing around the room and he watches happily as the man strapped to the chair begins to squirm and try to break free. It’s no use though, he’s mastered the best knot to tie around the body and the chair tightly to keep them from moving but also to inflict pain when they try to escape.

“Well, well, well. Not happy to see me?” He asks in a sickly sweet voice, too sweet to be used in such a setting. The man shakes his head violently as he tries rocking the chair side to side, his screams are muffled behind the tape. Harry simply chuckles, he’s always amused at their useless attempts.

“Now, I just have a couple of questions for you. I just need some information and I believe you should be able to help with this.” He says as he leans down so his face is right in front of the man with tears filling his eyes. The man shakes his head and Harry grabs a handful of his hair, firmly holding him in place.

“So you don’t want to leave? I was gonna let you leave if you answer… but since you don’t think that’s fair.. you’ll be stuck here.” He says and he watches as more tears fall from the man’s eyes and Harry just laughs, everyone wants to be all big and bad until they have to confront their behaviors. They think that no one will be able to catch them, they always underestimate his dedication. He’ll search every corner of the internet and the world just to find someone, and he’s been doing that lately. Searching for hours and hours on the internet to find someone.

He pulls himself back as he smiles, he’s gonna enjoy himself through all this. He starts off small, a few punches and rough tugs of the hair, and he relishes in the muffled cries of the man in front. He rips off the tape and the man screams.

“Who wanted my girl dead and why?” He asks and the man shakes his head.

“I don’t know man!” He says through his tears and shakes his head as if he’s disappointed.

“Such a shame.” He says as he walks to a table full of various weapons and tools of all sizes, he grabs a pair of pliers and walks back to the man, hitting the pliers against his palm.

“Maybe this will ring some answers for you, for every question you don’t answer and I’m not satisfied with the answer I’ll pull one of your teeth out. How does that sound?” The man cries and shakes his head.

“Please man, I’m serious! I don’t know anything!” He cries out and Harry sighs.

“Already onto a bad start, my friend.” He says as he yanks the man’s jaw open as he decides which teeth to pull. As soon as he picks one, the door opens and EJ’s voice rings out.

“Hey boss, sorry to bother you but you have a phone call, it’s important.” Harry shakes his head. He should know better than to interrupt him. He’d hate to have to fire him.

“Uh, I’m busy. Tell them I’ll call back later.” Harry replies back, sarcasm and annoyance dripping from his voiceand the door still stays open.

“It’s the hospital, Y/N. She’s alive.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry edward styles #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles one direction #harry styles fan fic #harrystyles #harry styles one shots #harry styles sad #harry styles angst #harry styles x fem!reader #brief mention but i think i should still tag it #harry styles x y/n #my writing

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mitsies · 1 year

Text

-;. friendly competition ; michael kaiser > kaiser thinks he could treat you better.

outside of his sport, michael kaiser doesn't imagine himself as too self-centered- although, he can't help but think that he'd be a really, really good boyfriend to you.

he'd treat you right, the way you deserve to be treated. he thinks about it a little too much- about how he'd put his hands on your waist when he kissed you, about the gifts he'd buy you- he's considered it all.

during his stay in japan, his lack of knowledge of the language has proved to be incredibly inconvenient. so he was matched with you, a local student with a passion for teaching, to tutor him in japanese.

it's a little embarrassing, frankly, to be so infatuated with someone who doesn't even spare him a second glance, but he thinks he makes it work. and he wholeheartedly believes that you would work, too, together as a couple. you're gorgeous, and he tells you this. he means it every time.

kaiser has never lied to you, not once, especially not when he says you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen. you never seem to buy it, though, always brushing him off without a second thought.

and he might be impatient, kind-of-shitty, insufferable, and a little too egotistical, but he thinks that he really could have a chance. you look at him starry-eyed and he's grown familiar with how your skin burns under his too-long-to-be-friendly touches.

he thinks he has a chance, that is, until he sees your instagram story one day after practice. he's in the locker rooms with alexis ness, chest still heavy and heaving and towel still around his barren neck when he clicks the notification stating that you've posted on your story.

and boy, was that a mistake, because now kaiser is positively seething, gripping his phone so hard it might smash into glass shards within his grasp.

because there you are, giggling and happy like a radiant flower, arms wrapped around someone else's neck. their face is cut off, and he can't make out who they are but it doesn't really matter because they don't deserve you.

you're too pretty to be hanging off someone else's arm. you're too funny to be laughing at anyone else's jokes. you're too good to be with anyone but him.

kaiser glares at his phone, ignoring ness' questions of 'what's wrong,' and 'why do you look like you're going to pass out.' he opts to shove the phone in his friend's face with a belligerent scowl, pressing his hand to the bridge of his nose.

ness 'ohs' and his face contorts as he tries to concoct a reasonable explanation as to why he shouldn't be too disheartened. "maybe.. it's not, like, a thing yet?"

and kaiser latches onto that. yes, ness is right- if you were with someone else, he'd know! you were friends with isagi, and isagi was... acquainted with kaiser. he'd be aware if you were dating someone.

and it's not a good trait to have- he's aware, fully aware- but kaiser doesn't know what he'd do if someone else had you.

so, he shoots you a text.

kaiser hey u doing anything tn?

you uhh no i think i should be free! what's up?

kaiser just wanted to see u wanna come to the library?

the library a train ride away from the blue lock facilities is the one he typically meets you at. it feels sacred now, some kind of holy ground, because he thinks of you when he thinks of it.

you oh how romantic bet u take all the girls there

kaiser just the ones i really like does 4 work? ill bring that drink you like

you how thoughtful

kaiser only for you

you see u at 4 then!

he shouldn't feel so smug but he can't help it as he looks up the next train to leave.

when he shows up to the library, you're already there in your usual spot. it's mostly empty save for the occasional university student passed out over their computer.

you twirl a pencil around with your fingers, humming something softly. the lights are mostly dimmed, and your figure is hardly illuminated in the ambiance of your computer's screen.

you have a familiar notebook, and it dawns on kaiser that you don't realize he's not here to study today.

"kaiser," you greet him with a warm smile as he slides into the seat next to yours. "hey. how've you been?"

"better now that i've seen you." he knows he's stupid, he knows he's cheesy, he knows he's embarrassing, but you laugh so he doesn't really care.

"smooth. you need to be put on a leash or something."

he laughs softly before relaxing his arms across the table, tipping his head to look up at you. he studies your lips and thinks about how pretty they'd look against his.

you start going on about something he can't really understand, and he just sits and stares a little until you gauge that he's not listening.

"am i going to fast?" you worry even faster, and kaiser knows exactly what he's doing when he sits up straight and reaches his hand to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. his hand finds its way to your chin in a way that it's fluttered before but never stayed.

"no, you're fine," he smiles, "more than fine."

your breath is hot on his thumb and he pulls it away, relishing the bashful expression on your face.

"let's.. start from here."

he's again only half listening, this time clocking how you fumble over your own words like a baby deer learning to walk. he notices the furtive glances that you try to sneak over at him when you think he's not paying attention.

when you take a sip of the drink that kaiser's brought, an imprint of lipgloss is left stamped on the straw, and kaiser can't help himself because he thinks that shade might look pretty cute on him, too.

"you know," he says as you're rewinding and preparing yourself to speak again, "you look really nice today."

he means it, too. the sweater you wear matches your eyes and your hair is mussed in a way that makes you look so welcoming. he wants to touch your hair, so he does.

you purse your lips. "thank you."

"i mean it."

"oh. thanks."

his brows furrow. "you don't believe me."

your nose crinkles. "i do!"

"you don't."

you roll your eyes and prop your head up with your hands, elbows on your desk. "this conversation feels incredibly pointless."

his hand is on your knee and you try not to trip over your words. he smiles, though, and you know he's seen through your facade.

"i'm getting to the point. just be patient."

"hurry up so i can keep being smarter than you." you wave the pen you're holding in his face and he snags it with his free hand, dropping it on the table.

"you're making me want to take longer, y'know," kaiser laughs. you faux-scowl. "and you can't really say you're being smarter than me when you still haven't noticed."

a heat scalds your face. you open your mouth to ask 'what' but you already know, and kaiser's lips crash against yours. it's graceless, your kiss, all teeth, but he smiles when you kiss him back. when he pulls away for a breath, his lips are tinged the same color as yours.

you blink. "what?"

and kaiser laughs. a real, happy laugh, the one you're so familiar with. it makes your heart thunder in your chest like a bird fighting its cage.

"let me do that all the time," he says. he's not sure he can manage to say what he means, to put the words 'i like you' out into the world but he thinks you get the gist of it because you're hot-faced and dizzy as you hover close to him again.

"i didn't think you wanted to."

kaiser narrows his eyes. "i've been flirting with you since i met you."

"you're kind of.. just like that."

"serious?"

"yeah. kinda."

"shit."

"mhm."

"at least it worked."

you smack his shoulder gently and he lets his weight drop into your side. his body fits against yours like it was made for you.

"what made you decide to tell me now?"

and kaiser stills. he's a little embarrassed. you catch on to his silence though, and your eyes widen: "no way. wait."

rushing to open your phone, you pull up your instagram account. "my story?"

"of course not. who do you think i am?"

and it's your turn to laugh. "kaiser, that's my sibling."

"oh."

"'oh.' yeah."

"it's not entirely my fault-"

"give me a break," you sigh like you hate him but there's a smile on your face. "you owe me another tea."

#michael kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #kaiser x reader #kaiser michael x reader #michael kaiser #I KINDA HATE THIS. wtv.#lowkey ooc #actually HIGHKEY #posting for CLOUT

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shayyprasad · 4 months

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right next door // part one | peter parker

ahhhh new series!!

masterlist!

summary: you move in right next door to a cutie, problem is, he isn't much of a talker. or anything at all. but it's okay, because you're dead-set on getting him to warm up to you.

warnings: mean peter :(

pairing: peter parker x fem!bubbly!reader

word count: 1.9k+ words

you scowled under your breath, absolutely frustrated.

“if you want us to take the boxes up to the fifth level, you’re going to have to pay us extra,” the man spoke, arms crossed. the movers you had hired looked to be twins, around the age of 30, perhaps? they had heavy accents and took you to be a gullible female if they believed that you’d pay an additional 25 dollars for that.

“look, i included the information about my flat being on the fifth floor, and despite having that knowledge, you took this job. i am not paying you extra, so how about you do this right, okay?” you scoffed in disbelief; you didn’t know that moving into a new apartment would be so difficult. all you wanted was for these insufferable men to take your stuff to your flat so you could finally relax.

finally breathe, because you hadn’t gotten any “you” time since you made the decision to move into a whole new state, which you were starting to regret now.

no, no, independence is always worth it.

probably.

either way, it was nice to get away from your overbearing parents that were currently all the way over in florida.

“lady, we don’t got all day, so either pay up, or-”

“i’ll take it from here,” a male voice interjected. you looked over to see a brunette, with honey-brown colored eyes and a perfectly sculpted face.

perfectly sculpted.

perfectly.

you’d seen him a couple times when checking out the building. he lived in e11, which was part of the reason you’d moved into e12, right next door. there wasn’t anything wrong with wanting a god for a neighbor, right?

that was a rhetorical question, of course there wasn’t anything wrong with it.

after poking around (begging your landlord for his name and room number), you found out that he was peter parker from e11.

you watched him walk over and raise an eyebrow at the men, who stood unmoving. “i said we got it from here.”

“you her boyfriend or something?”

“and what would it be to you?” peter adjusted his position to where his arms were crossed, shirt tight and muscles flexed.

okay, so it wasn't just his face that was perfectly sculpted.

the men exchanged eye contact and shook their heads, sighing. you stuck your tongue out at them, despite the fact they were already walking out the door, backs facing you.

you called out, “and that’s one star for you guys on yelp!”

brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, you looked back at peter, who was already picking up a box. “oh, hey, you don’t have to do that. i’m sure i’ll manage.”

“it’s okay. i don’t mean to underestimate your strength, but these boxes aren’t very light.”

“yes, but-… are you sure? i don’t want to burden you with this.”

he glanced at you, balancing a box on top of the one he was holding, “it’s no burden. unless you don’t want my help, which is a different story altogether.”

“uh, no, nothing like that,” you hesitated. he seemed very stoic, in no mood for small talk, or to converse in general. “but thanks for what you did. i didn’t need the help, i could have handled it on my own, but… um, thanks.”

“did you a favor,” he shrugged, “you weren’t really getting anywhere with that.”

you frowned at his bluntness, but bit back a retort. he was willing to help you, this complete stranger. and for that, you were grateful.

picking up one of the lighter boxes, you followed after him on the stairs. “so… um… i’m y/n. l/n,” you added after a second.

“peter parker,” was all he said, and you nodded as if you hadn’t previously known that.

“nice to meet you, peter.”

“what room do you live in?”

“e12.” you stopped yourself from adding right next to you.

“’kay.”

“what about you?”

“huh?”

“w-where do you live?”

“e11.”

“oh,” you smiled, as if you didn’t know that as well. “that’s so cool! we’re neighbors!”

“yay.”

it seemed like that was sarcastic, so you decided that it was best to maybe shut up. so that’s what you did.

after a while, you were able to get all your boxes (with peter doing most of the work). you stood in your flat with your hands on your hips as peter put the last box down. “seriously,” you breathed, “thank you so much. i have no idea what i’d do if you weren’t there.”

“negotiate with russian twins and get nowhere.”

you laughed nervously, unsure of whether or not that was a joke. “um, you can stay a little longer, if you’d like. or not. that’s fine, too.” you were hoping he’d stay, even though you literally had nothing for him to sit on. there was no furniture… but maybe he’d want to stay anyways?

“i’m good.”

“o-okay, peter. see you around?”

without another word, he slipped out of your apartment, shutting the door behind him.

you thought that moving in next to peter would make you a little less lonely, and maybe you’d make a new friend.

but perhaps your mother was right. what if you weren’t ready for all this?

new job, new home, new state… new everything.

you were all alone in the big city.

but- but it would be okay, you decided, shaking your head. “it’s fine. i can do this. i’m going to do this. today was a minor setback, which my mom doesn’t need to know about… and i need to make new friends before talking to myself becomes a habit.”

you stood in the middle of your flat, grinning. nothing was going to stop you from achieving your dream.

your new job at the daily bugle wasn't going to start for another week, so you had time to unpack and adjust. music blared from the speakers, helping you get into your new groove. you sang and danced around to it, laughing like a fool (you were sleep deprived).

you took the plastic wrapping off the couches and adjusted them to where you liked, with much struggle, of course. next came chairs and tables, and you were glad to get those out of the way. once you’d completed moving and unpacking some of the bigger things, you had gotten bored.

but, nevertheless, you still wanted to be productive. finally, you settled on decorating the living room. taking out pillows, throw blankets, and pictures, you put them all in their designated places.

in complete exhaustion, you tossed yourself onto your couch. “aw, crap, where i am gonna sleep tonight?” you groaned.

in hindsight, maybe you should’ve done the bedroom first. man, you were kind of a mess without your mother.

laying there, gazing up the bare ceiling, your thoughts drifted to peter. he was mean, but in a reserved way. like it wasn’t really to be mean, but more about how his personality was. “oh, well, i’ll just make him warm up to me.”

after all, you did need friends. so why not start with peter?

with a new task at hand, you jumped up, speeding towards the kitchen. you planned on making him cookies, after all, who didn’t like those? you preheated the oven… before realizing you had to unpack all your kitchen related items.

and you had to go shopping for ingredients.

you had some money to last you until a new paycheck, so you might as well spend it somehow. besides, this could be a way to get peter to like you.

not like that.

well, not yet.

first, you had to get him to be friends with you. no, scratch that. you had to go shopping first.

“you need butter to make cookies, right?” you asked yourself, glancing over to your cart that currently held milk, eggs, and flour in it. “oh! and sugar! …vanilla extract? why on earth haven’t i googled this yet?” shaking your head in dismay, you pulled out your phone, searching up what you needed.

“okay… so…chocolate chips. gah, how did i forget that? cornstarch, and salt,” you looked at the aisle you were in, pausing momentarily. after a second, you threw a pack of measuring spoons in. “obviously, you need chocolate chips for chocolate chip cookies!”

sighing, you glanced up, only to be met with the eyes of a bewildered woman. “um… sorry,” you mumbled sheepishly, forgetting you were in public.

seriously, you needed new friends. pronto.

you wheeled your cart to the checkout aisle and waited in line. looking up, you saw a masked figure on the television. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and tilted your head, squinting to read the caption; “spider-man stops yet another robbery”.

“huh,” you murmured quietly. “spider-man.”

“mommm, isn’t he so cool?” turning your head, you saw a little boy pointing at the screen.

“what? yeah, he is,” she said, filing through her wallet.

you pulled your phone out of your back pocket, going into safari. the knit between your eyebrows hadn’t left as you tapped on the first news link, jjjnews.com.

spider-man, the masked menace.

you looked up and frowned. menace? you thought he was a hero, given the whole robbery thing. come to think of it, the name sounded familiar. “spider-man…” you hummed, testing it out once more.

whether he is in affiliation with the avengers, we do not know. the infamous spider-man, often referred to as the masked menace by his critics and opponents, raises an intriguing question: why does he feel the need to conceal his identity? what secrets is he keeping from us that drive him to hide behind a mask? could it be fear of exposure or perhaps a deeper motivational factor? but what drives him to conceal his true self from the world? what secrets lie beneath that mask, and what is he purposefully keeping hidden from those around him?

these questions continue to haunt not only the citizens of new york city, but also his closest allies. while spider-man is praised as a courageous crime-fighter, some question if there is more to his story than meets the eye. as a beloved hero or feared vigilante, the truth behind spider-man's persona remains a mystery waiting to be unraveled.

with the emergence of new heroes comes a surge in villains as well, and perhaps spider-man's presence only adds fuel to the fire. it is time for the authorities to take action against this dangerous masked figure before any more harm is done.

you pressed your lips together, and exited the app. that was enough of that, because as far as you knew, this guy sounded like a hater. this man, expecting no incentive at all, risked his life every day to keep others safe.

what more did people want, honestly?

seeing as it was your turn, you picked things up from the cart and set them down onto the checkout. pulling out your wallet, you inserted the chip in the credit card.

“that’ll be $37.50.”

“um, okay,” why was that more than you thought it’d be?

yay, cookies, right?

somehow, you managed to make it home without crashing into someone, or someone crashing into you. you didn’t have a car yet, nor did you trust yourself with on here in nyc, so you took a taxi.

being completely honest, you were kind of excited about this. being more completely honest, you didn’t know how to bake. (or cook.)

but maybe it’d be okay. i mean, how hard was following instructions on a screen?

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #peter parker #spiderman #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #fluff #angst #tom holland x you #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader fluff #peter parker x reader angst #tom holland fluff #right next door part one #my writing

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carigm · 4 months

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MAJOR POTENTIAL SPOILERS/LEAKS REGARDING S5 (WARNING)

Last Spring/Summer, a semi popular fandom account on Twitter got sent some leaks about S5, focused on the first half of the season. At this time, many fandom accounts were receiving supposed leaks, so our attention was a bit scattered and we didn’t focus on any of them too much. A popular leak account on Twitter (unrelated to ST) also mentioned that they had gotten the first half of S5 leaked, and that this source is “never wrong”. Now, it is hard to tell if these leaks are the same as the ones that the specific fandom account I’m talking about received, but something to keep in mind. Her leaks were given to her by a person named James (which I assume is a fake name). These leaks were also posted on Reddit, last year, by her (the person in the fandom that got the leaks from James) but some major things were omitted in that post. I’m gonna leave a link here in case you guys want to read the discussion.

I’m sharing these leaks with you because some things from them are kinda lining up with what we’re seeing from S5 production. Keep in mind that these could be fake/wrong, and James himself said he didn’t have info on the last couple of scripts.

According to James, Mike dies in Ep. 3. I’m adding more screenshots later for more context, but the gist of these leaks is that Mike bites it, mlvn never breakup nor do they get a resolution, and Byler is left up to interpretation but never really happens. (I don’t really need to get into how shitty this all is writing wise)

Let’s go over the things these leaks might have potentially gotten right, according to what we know so far.

1. James said that the time jump would occur in ep. 1, after an establishing scene where S4 left off. He said the time jump would place us in late 1987/early 1988. He also mentioned there would be a series of flashbacks showcasing stuff from before the time jump. The dates he gave do seem to be accurate, and David Harbour had a shaved head right before they went into filming, which could imply pre time jump scenes.

2. According to him, after Mike dies, they find a letter he had been writing. Some of us were theorizing Finn had a letter in his back pocket in those rooftop pics. Could’ve also been Finn’s script and he just stuck it there (who knows).

3. He said that Joyce gets badly injured in ep.3, and since there’s speculation Winona was seen filming at the hospital, some people think that means she was taken there because of her injury. It’s important to notice that Natalia, Cara, and Finn were also supposedly seen filming at the hospital, and that the production called for many extras for nurses and paramedics. So whatever they’re filming at the hospital, it might be bigger than Joyce getting injured in her leg. Let’s remember Max is at the hospital too. I’m not 100% sold on this part of the leaks.

4. Today it was revealed that they’re setting up to film at Stone Mountain. (This is where they filmed UD scenes for S4)

Apparently production might have purple tentacles out already. (UD vines?)

Cara Buono mentioned, in that video shared by Ross Duffer, that she was filming stuff from Ep.2. This was around 2 days ago.

The people that know about the leaks think this is where Mike dies in ep. 3. Here’s some further context:

Here’s some stuff he said about mlvn:

Which is just….meh, because like I said, it doesn’t look like him and El ever breakup before his supposed death. Plus Byler never gets any resolution.

Now some things that might disprove the leaks (I’m trying to be impartial here)

1. These leaks mentioned Argyle a couple of times, saying he has a hero moment at some point. Eduardo made it sound like he’s not coming back to the show, but tbh he could just be lying. He’s listed for ep.2 on IMDb (and yes I know anyone with an account can edit that site)

2. These leaks say that Mike is very insufferable for the 3 episodes he’s alive, basically lashing out at everyone, specially El, and just overall behaving like an asshole. I really didn’t get that from the ElMike rooftop scene, in fact he seemed very gentle with her. People that know about these leaks think that the rooftop scene is Mike maybe apologizing to El and them having a heart to heart, right before he dies (no comment).

All in all, if Mike is dying this early, I’m sure we’ll know soon enough. The rest of the cast is gonna be filming for like a year, and Finn will be done in like two weeks 💀

I also hope there’s more leaks soon (on Reddit) so that we might compare them to these and see wtf is up.

I know someone is gonna inevitably ask why leaks would be out almost a whole year before they started filming when we usually get them during filming or post production, but I’ve been told these leaks happened around the time the writer’s strike began, which is when they were originally gonna start filming. I was also told other shows had issues with leaks around that same time.

I don’t want to get too much into the truly awful writing we’re facing if these are real but…First, I believe it’s a total disservice to Mike’s character. One of your mains since S1 and you don’t even offer him the option of dying towards the end of the season? Even fucking Eddie got that. Two, it seems like a very easy cop out for not having to make Byler canon. Let’s just have neither ship be endgame and that way we don’t get queerbaiting allegations. It also stands in a zone too close to torture porn for my liking, because sure let’s kill the character two of the most traumatized characters in the history of TV love most. And yes, it’s also a disservice to El and Will’s characters. And lastly, if that supposed letter vaguely alludes Mike having some sort of sexuality problems (we don’t know atp) it is pretty fucked up they just killed him off like that. Sure let’s not explore any of that, but give a half assed explanation via letter ex machina. This is looking like Supernatural finale levels of bad to me.

Another point, I distinctly remember the Duffers saying, after S4, that they could never kill off a character like Mike because it would be too painful, and that ST would cease to be ST and lose its identity. They didn’t want to be like GOT. I sincerely hope they actually meant this and were not trying to be cheeky or whatever the fuck.

It would be genuinely insane, and quite frankly, a highlight of their lack of writing abilities.

I hope the leaks are wrong, but I felt like it was necessary to warn everyone just in case. I know I’m not watching something this awful.

#byler #stranger things #st5 spoilers #st5 leaks #mike wheeler #mileven

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ilovebuckers5 · 2 months

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.·:·.✧ Say No pt 4✧.·:·.

NIka Muhl x Fem!Reader

"I just wanted to be yours. can I be yours? can I be yours? just tell me I'm yours"

word count - 2.3k

themes:

-angst (if u squint)

-fluff

-smoking

A/N - this is kind of a filler but then again its not... I really liked writing this part tho 😋

august 5th 2023

My eyes stung the morning after. Not even the feelings of more tears helped because she wasn't here to wipe them away. As much as I wanted to wake up curled next to Nika, faced pressed against her chest. I wasn't. She was still in Paige's room. I kept trying to gaslight myself into thinking that she was down the hallway, waiting for me, but she wasn't. My eyes started to blink open to see a bunch of blankets piled up next to my face. I shoved the blankets out of the way and sat up, supporting my body weight with hands behind me. I gazed around my room looking for a sweater to put on. I finally stood up once I found a black hoodie with the UCONN logo on it. It took me forever to realize that I had slipped on Nika's sweatshirt. The first thing I noticed when I walked out of my room was a couple of the girls sitting in the lobby. On their phones, talking, doing whatever. I started looking around for Paige but before I could find the blonde, I found the brunette. Nika was sitting on the arm of a cushioned chair. Of course she decided to not sit on the actual part your ass should be on. I tried my best to look away but just the sight of her was refreshing after a night without her touch.

Her eyes were glued onto her phone that was being held by her left hand. Her right was hanging off to the side. I watched as her thumb gently spun one of her more loose rings around. I watched the way her heels was kicking against the soft material on the chair. I watched every little movement she made. And suddenly I was back at the beach. When even if she had sand in her finger nails and in her hair, she was still perfect to me and always is. Watching her silently took me back to the first night she stayed in my bed. She laid there so peacefully and all I could was watch her chest rise and fall with each breath she took. Arguments completely break me. Even if this isn't the end it feels like it. To know that there is a point in us that Nika didn't feel at peace when the thought of myself came to her mind. that is horrible to think of.

Before she could catch me admiring her, I moved my eyes to the front door when I heard KK, Ice, and Paige walk through the door holding Panda Express. Ice ran up to me holding a bag in front of me. "I couldn't remember your go to for the life of me and you were asleep so forgive me if I botched your order." She handed me a bag of food that was steaming. "No you're good I love anything from Panda." I grabbed onto the bag and sat down at one of the chair in the lobby. The smell of orange chicken and beef mixed with steam rose up to my face hitting my nose with heat. Luckily there was a table in front of me so I took out everything and set it down before throwing away the bag. When I stood up to walk to the trash can I was stopped by a strong hand holding onto my shoulder. I turned around to see Paige looking right at me "You're gonna talk to her today right? It's so insufferable to see you two not being all up on each other." I nodded silently as I was trying to forget what happened even happened. I came back to my food and noticed a bite of my rice was gone. I knew immediately that it was Ashlynn since when I looked up I saw her running away from my chair. I rolled my eyes and continued eating.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

august 11th 2023

"Did you get your shoes from my room?" Jana yelled out from across the hallway. "Yes we're good!" Today was the day that the team was headed back home. I had just finalized my packing plan and had my suitcases full to the brim. As much as I wanted to help Nika pack, she seemed like she was fully capable by herself. By the way, I did talk to her. At least I tried. In fact I tried multiple times. Each and every time I did, she either ignored me or brushed my words off.

august 5th 2023

I was back at my room now. Leftovers of my food were left in the mini fridge. I remember hearing some girls in the room next to me laughing loudly. Even though I wasn't into smoking or drinking, Nika's tipsy voice made it hard to resist. The book in my hand was almost glued to my bed once I heard her voice. I walked next door and knocked on the door while trying to think of an excuse to just be in the room. The door swung open to reveal Qadence standing in front of me. She had a soft smile on her face when she noticed it was me. Me and Qadence have always been close even if it doesn't show. Once the door was opened wide enough, I saw Nika's smile drop as we locked eyes. My heart dropped to my stomach just at the sight of her not being happy around me. Qadence let me into the room which I didn't expect. To be honest, I just went to the room to get some part of Nika's presence near mine. Qadence shut the door and sat down on the floor next to Paige and Amari. I looked around with confusion, not knowing what to do. The group of girls were clearly wanted me to sit down but the only place I could sit was of course right next to Nika. On a bed too. So I did. I mean its not like it would bother me, it's Nika who would be bothered by it. And Paige who would be amused. Azzi took a puff from her pen before handing it to what I thought would be me but was Nika. Azzi leaned over into Nika's ear and whispered what I'm guessing was something having to do with me. Nika took a hit then handed the pen to me without making any eye contact. It was excruciating to not kiss her right then and there in front of everyone.

"Alright. Take a hit or tell the truth. y/n, did you actually fuck Nika?" Clearly Paige was in a mood. My eyes widened at the very quick start to the night. I let out a sigh and handed the pen to Qadence before answering. "Yep." I tried to be as cold and blunt as possible to make it seem like I didn't give a shit, which I did. My eyes felt like they were going to pop out at how much I wanted to look into Nika's eyes to see if she was looking at me. Paige tilted her head to Azzi, indicating that she needed to ask the next question.

After a couple more questions thrown back and forth, I felt myself getting more dissociated and high. The next question was asked by Amari and it was something I did think she would ask. "I'm gonna break the rules a little here, this is for Nika and y/n. are y'all done?" the room went silent. My brain could barely think about what I was going to say so I silently left Nika to answer first. We still didn't make eye contact. The only thing I saw was her hands starting to fidget with each other. I held my breath until she spoke out. "Only if this one wants it to be." Nika tapped my shoulder shyly which sent a chill down my back. That when I noticed just how high she was because sober Nika would never be that bold after being asked a question like that. Nothing left my mouth but heavy breaths. I wanted to speak but no words were able to form on my tongue. All I could do was leave. So I stood up and rushed through the door and back to my room. This happened to be the second time that I had smoked ever so it was a bit rough when I was back in my bed. I couldn't even stand up so flipped myself over so that my face was in the pillow and all I did was cry. I got mascara all over my pillow but that didn't matter right now.

I want Nika back more than anything in the world. Before these couple days I couldn't even fathom the thought of being without her yet I still managed to fuck things up. Just because I wasn't careful? Fucking stupid. I cried for almost an hour nonstop before Azzi walked through my door. She sat herself on the ledge of my bed and gently rubbed my back as more tears fell out of my eyes and got soaked up by my pillow. The only reason I didn't answer the question was because I wanted Nika back so much that it felt like if I told her that, it would be stressful for her. I want what's best for her not for me. I probably sounded so stupid crying so hard over something like a month long relationship issue but it was as if I knew Nika for 20 years. Azzi sat there and rubbed my back for what felt like hours until I finally revealed my now even more reddened and puffy eyes. Azzi grabbed a tissue and wiped my cheeks and eyes of dark mascara. She pulled me into a long embrace which only made more tears flow out. "I don't want it to be over az." She held me close for a couple more seconds before pulling away to speak. "Then you have to do something so that she knows that."

I eventually built up the balls to stand up and approach Nika who was now running after KK who had taken her phone. KK stopped once she saw me walk out the door and head towards Nika direction. In fact, KK froze in place and just stared at me. "What?" Nika flailed her arms around until she turned around, then her hands rested at her sides. Finally for the first time in a month, we looked at each other. But this time we didn't just look at each other, we focused on each other. I felt the air in my lungs become trapped by the lump sitting at the top of my throat. I cleared my throat and broke the eye contact "Um, could I talk to you. Please." I felt the sense that Nika really didn't want to talk to me but she painfully nodded and followed me back into our hotel room. My hands gravitated to her wrists but she pulled away softer than I expected. "Nika. Can I tell you something?" Nika took her lip under her teeth and nodded. "I really love you. Like, a fucking lot." Nika hadn't even spoke and I felt a tear run down my cheek. "I would never in a million years- no in any years, want to hurt you." I looked behind Nika's eyes and felt nothing but hate with a hint of love in her head. Even if she didn't take me back in this moment I needed her to know that she meant everything to me. I would give up my life to spare her happiness.

august 11th 2023

I was loading everyone's bags into the car when I felt a hand wrap around my waist. Ok maybe not around my waist but a hand touched my waist. I look behind me to see Nika. She had tears ready to fall from her eyes. Things had eased out since the fifth but we still weren't back together. I still had the same love for her no matter what, that wouldn't change. Even though she never wanted to admit it, I could always tell when something was wrong with Nika. The sorrows of having to leave California forced me to try and comfort Nika even if that meant holding her in my arms without dating. No words were exchanged I just felt a couple tears slide down my skin that Nika's face was pressed against. My hand trailed across her back that was halfway exposed by the tube top she was wearing. The second she pulled her face out of my chest, I held her jaw with my hands and looked into her glossy eyes. "I'm...sorry." Her words were laced with even more sobs but that didn't matter. She didn't have to be sorry. Did it hurt being without her? Yes. But nothing changed the fact that it was me who did something wrong. She had every right to be mad at me. "Don't be sorry. There's nothing to be sorry for." a couple more tears fell down her cheeks but I quickly stroked them away with the pad of my thumb. I thought she would pull away now but her hands wrapped around my waist before she slowly inched her lips onto mine. I kissed back and then felt her smile across my mouth. I missed her smile.

I pulled away to peek at her now dried eyes and glowing smile. I pressed my head against her forehead and pulled her close. We held onto each other until I looked up and saw a couple of the girls lurking through the window of the hotel lobby. "Alright everyone's staring at us..." A small laugh left Nika's mouth and just that alone warmed my heart even more. Nika left to go grab a couple more bags to put in the car. I admired from afar as Paige, Azzi, and KK basically congratulated her. I leaned my head back on the trunk door of the car and I couldn't help but bring a large smile on my lips. Now the car ride wouldn't be as painful as I predicted it to be.

#nika muhl #paige bueckers #lesbian #basketball #uconn wbb #uconhuskies #say no #nika muhl x reader #nika x reader

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