#i miss autumn when they were everywhere :(

[bat-boys]

besotted

pairing: Azriel x fem reader

word count: 3.7k

warnings: none, just tooth rotting fluff

summary: Rhys and Feyre have asked you to babysit Nyx for the day, meaning you get to spend the whole time enjoying one of your favourite weaknesses: your mate cuddling cute babies.

a/n: thank you so much for the love, it's been so lovely 🫶🏻. this fic is completely self-indulgent - I don't even want children but the thought of handsome men with babies? lord have mercy. My inbox is always open for a chat or fic suggestions /requests. Enjoy loves.

Velaris was truly stunning in every season, every weather, at any time of day, but for you, your favourite time in the city was during the height of summer. When the weather was perfect, the warmth not too stifling, and the evenings cool, the sun glistened on the smooth water of the Sidra, and the air was filled with the soft chattering and laughter of its citizens that lasted well into the evening.

A soft grin played on your lips as you strolled through the streets of the city you had grown up in, the warm breeze gently blowing the gauzy material of your trousers and licking at the stretch of skin exposed at the waist due to the cropped top you wore - the beautiful outfit a gift from your close friend Amren who shared your sense of style. Your confident and sure steps took you past familiar shops, filled to the brim with their exquisite wares as you approached the handful of shops you needed to visit. 

As you neared the first shop you needed to visit, you turned your head slightly when you felt one of those familiar shadows that followed you everywhere. It slipped up your arm and affectionally curled around the skin between where your shoulder met your neck. The darkness cooled your warm skin, causing a soft smile to fall on your lips when you thought of the man to whom they belonged. Since being mated to Azriel, a handful of his shadows were always with you, and you had grown very fond of your own little shadows. According to the spymaster, they had left him on their own accord, feeling as protective of you as their master did. They acted almost as a messenger service between you and your mate. 

"Are you okay, babe? One of your shadows just tapped me on the shoulder." As you entered the small shop, you spoke gently through that sparkling, glimmering thread you shared with your favourite person in the whole wide world. 

"When are you heading back?" His deep, midnight-laced voice slipped into your mind, and you had to hold back the involuntary shudder as you touched one of the children's toys hanging on a rack before you. 

"Why are you missing me already, Az?" Judging by the chuckle you heard that echoed in your head, he could practically hear the teasing smirk in your words. 

"Always, sweetheart." There was a pause, and your eyebrows furrowed. You realized that something was actually amiss, and he wanted you home. "Nyx is fussing, and I don't know what to do."

This time, you chuckled out loud as you grabbed the toy from the rack and took it to the counter at the back of the shop to pay for it. You smiled gently at the shopkeeper, who warmly greeted you.

"He's probably hungry, babe; give him one of those bottles Feyre left. They're in the fridge." Rhys and Feyre had to attend a last-minute meeting today with the Court of Nightmares and Eris from the Autumn Court. They politely asked if you and Azriel could babysit Nyx on short notice. Initially, Azriel had put up a bit of a fuss, arguing that he needed to be there at the meeting, but Rhys had reasoned that Cassian would be there, as would Mor and Amren. Plus, he would show Az everything through his daemati ability. Feyre had sweetened the blow by telling Az you and him were Nyx's favourite aunt and uncle and that they trusted him the most to look after their precious son. 

You had beamed at Azriel's shocked face, winking at Rhys as you had shared in your amusement. Azriel was absolutely besotted with the tiny babe and would protect him with his life if needed. You had no doubt Azriel would immediately sacrifice his life for Nyx, no questions asked. Privately, you had agreed entirely with the idea of you and Azriel protecting Nyx from a security perspective - both of you ready to use your extensive abilities to protect the tiny fae - but also because it meant you could watch Azriel cuddle the baby. In the last couple of months, it had become one of your favourite weaknesses when it came to the shadowsinger. 

"Oh yeah, ok." Relief washed down the bond as he moved towards the kitchen and grabbed the bottle from the fridge, remembering how to warm it and test its temperature. 

"You've babysat Nyx before, Az; you're a natural at this—trust your instincts, babe." You assured him as you passed the money over to the shopkeeper, gave her a warm smile, thanked her, and took the small bag she set on her counter. Wishing her a goodbye, you left the shop and stepped back into the warm streets of Velaris, heading towards the next shop. 

"I've never babysat him before on my own!" You could practically hear the panic in his voice, and you shook your head absentmindedly at his lack of confidence in something he was exceptionally good at. 

"You're his favourite uncle for a reason, Az! I won't be long, promise." 

"Hurry back, sweetheart. I miss you too." A warm caress reached you through the bond, accompanied by the feeling of his shadows sliding up your thigh, the phantom feeling of his hands on your skin causing you to jolt ever so slightly. Wicked little things.

You had been hesitant to leave the Town House, which you and Az now called yours, this afternoon, but with Nyx arriving at such short notice, you needed more time to get some supplies in. You desperately needed some baby stuff and food for both yourself and your mate. You were just exchanging money with the butcher when you felt another frantic pulse through your bond. 

"Babe, he's crying again! He's had the whole bottle." You sent your mate a pulse of affection through his bond, trying to calm him down as you slid the package of food you had just brought into one of your bags. 

"Sweetheart, you need to burp him now." You gently reminded him. 

"Oh shit yeah." You laughed at your mate, drawing some strange looks from passersby, which caused a slight blush to rise on your cheeks. 

"No cursing around the baby!" This time, you felt Azriel's amusement through the bond, a warm beat of laughter that you would spend forever trying to coax from him - his laughter, deep, rich and full, was one of your favourite sounds.

"He can't hear me." He reasoned, his voice now calm now that you had given him a plan of action. He thrived in coordination and planning, able to adapt in times of chaos, but he preferred a detailed and methodical approach to everything. Even in the bedroom. 

As you stepped out of the final shop, your purchases swinging from your hands, your face turned up to catch the afternoon rays as they gently warmed your face, you felt another shadow creep up your arm to practically tap on your shoulder. 

"Fuck, now he's crying so loud I think he might bring the roof down!" Azriel was panicking again, and you could imagine him running his slender fingers through his hair - tuffs of midnight black standing up in a messy array as he started to pace.

"Az, calm down - he needs to sleep." In the Town House, Azriel felt a wave of calm wash over him as he listened to your levelled voice. No hint of irritation or annoyance in your voice. Even after all these years, he still had to fight his instincts that told him you would get tired of him and his pestering, overprotectiveness or panic, but you had been steadfast the entire time. Making sure he felt supported and loved through everything, and he could never be so grateful for the connection you had built together, the love you shared and the life you had crafted with each other. 

"I've tried putting him down, but he screams louder." He sounded tired, and you had to stop yourself from teasing, knowing that wasn't what he needed right now. 

"Pick him up. He probably wants you to cuddle him while he falls asleep." If you were being honest, you couldn't blame Nyx. Nothing, and you mean absolutely nothing, compares to Azriel's cuddles. You always felt so safe, so protected, and so comforted in his arms.

"Ok, yeah, I can do that. Gods, why are you so good at this love." You chuckled at the exasperation in his voice. Azriel must have been so agitated because, through the bond, he sent you images of him gently picking up a crying Nyx, his sweet face red and crumpled as he cried, and holding him to his chest. You tried so hard not to focus on those broad, beautiful, strong, scarred hands as they firmly held Nyx, thoughts of how he had held you last night entering into your mind unbidden and causing you to stumble on the uneven cobblestones of the path you were walking, "Careful love." You felt Az chuckle. 

"Ass." You felt his amusement through the bond and his relief as Nyx began to calm down and snuggled into Azriel. "You're a natural at this, Az, though. I'm nearly home."

"See you soon, love." At the sound of his husky voice, filled with love, you felt your pace pick up as you made your way towards the beautiful home you shared, eager to get home to your waiting mate. 

…

The Town House was quiet and bathed in darkness when you stepped inside. Trying to make as little noise as possible, you carefully set your bags on the entryway floor and slipped your shoes off, the cool wooden floor of the house soothing your hot feet. 

A handful of shadows flew through the air towards you, darting around your body and playfully getting tangled up in your hair and clothes. They whispered at you to be quiet and told you that Azriel and Nyx were in the main living room. 

With a grin on your face, you tip-toed over to the doorway to the living room and leaned against the frame as you took in the heartwarming scene before you. You had to physically stop the tears brimming in your eyes as you gazed at your mate, gently napping on the sofa with a content and fast asleep Nyx resting on his chest, softly snoring in the way only babes can. 

The scene before you was so soft and sweet that you indulged yourself for a moment, picturing your own child fast asleep on your mate's strong chest. You stared for a while, marvelling at the beauty of Azriel. His strong arms were exposed due to his sleeveless top, his Illyrian tattoos proudly swirling around his dark skin - arms you know would hold you close in the dead of night, keep you standing when you were weak and protect you until the ends of the earth. His soft, slightly curled, midnight hair gently fell on his proud forehead, making him look almost boyish and not the formidable man he presented to the rest of the world. His soft, full lips that were parted slightly in sleep. His strong jaw and proud nose, his sculpted body and thick thighs. He truly was heaven-sent.  

"I can feel you staring." He mumbled through the bond, and you had to stifle a soft laugh. Of course, Azriel wouldn't be entirely asleep - he rarely was; at least some part of him was always awake and alert. You think the only times Az had ever wholly given in to peaceful sleep was those precious weeks after you had accepted your mating bond when he was so tired and content to be next to you and holding you close that he couldn't resist falling into a deep slumber. But only after he had made sure the wards protecting the secluded cabin were still secure, ever the spymaster. 

You pushed away from the doorframe and padded towards where your mate was sitting. He opened his eyes slightly, still sleepy from his brief nap, and his lips curled into a warm smile as you approached. 

"Hi, love." You whispered as you bent over the back of the sofa to grip his face and press your lips to his in a sweet kiss. Kissing Az was something you would never get over, even after decades together. The feel of his plush but slightly chapped lips against yours, his delicious taste and scent enveloping your senses, had your toes curling against the cold wooden floor. 

"I'm so glad you're back." You beamed at him as you stared at his upside-down face, gently stroking his jaw and feeling the slight stubble against the soft skin of your hands. 

"Seems like you've got it handled," you teased as you turned your attention to the sleeping child on Azriel's chest. You reached out a hand to gently brush Nyx's soft hair off his forehead, desperately holding in the coo that threatened to leave your lips as he let out a soft sigh and nestled further into Az's chest. Who could blame him, you thought? You had the exact same favourite sleeping position. 

"You're definitely better at this than me," he mumbled as you skirted around the sofa to sit beside your mate. He ever so slowly and ever so gently shifted so as not to wake Nyx so you could tuck yourself into his side. His arm curled around your shoulders to bring you closer, planting a gentle kiss on your temple. 

"How long has Nyx been asleep?" you whispered as you snuggled closer to your mate, hand reaching out to gently stroke up and down Nyx's back in a soothing manner you knew he liked.

"About 20 minutes." You hummed, proud of Azriel for handling the situation. He had been so nervous around the babe when he was first born—so conscious of the tiny, breakable fae he now felt some reasonability for.

"I'd say you've had it completely covered, babe." Nyx stirred ever so slightly, and you knew from experience that you had exactly 5 minutes before he woke up and was agitated again due to not sleeping enough. 

A soft hum filled the quiet air as you got up and gently took the sleeping child from Azriel, whispering soothing noises. He stirred slightly as you manoeuvred him into your arms. You bounced ever so slightly on your toes, continuing to hum a lullaby you had heard Feyre singing to him the other day as you walked over to the travelling crib Azriel had set up next to the sofa. Ever so gently, you lowered Nyx into the plush mattress, stroking a finger down his cheeks in a way you knew he liked as you watched him settle back to sleep. 

Azriel just sat back, arms spread out on the back of the sofa behind him, as he watched you so expertly soothe Nyx. He could practically feel his eyes turning into hearts as he watched you, almost unable to control the all-consuming feeling of love that was threatening to spill from him. He loved you so much and had done so for hundreds of years, but in recent months, watching you become so enamoured by your nephew, a new tentative love grew. 

You turned around, and Azriel offered you one of his sweet smiles before holding out an outstretched hand and silently bidding you to return to his side. With a matching grin, you took his hand and let him pull you in beside him before shifting you both, so you were lying down on the sofa, both facing Nyx as Azriel wound his arms around you to pull you flush against his chest. 

A feeling of absolute contentment flooded Azriel as you lay there, breathing in your sweet scent and kissing your soft hair. You shifted closer to him, fingers stroking over his hands wrapped around your waist, holding you close. Mirroring smiles danced on your lips as you watched your nephew and enjoyed the comfortable silence that had settled over the Town House.

"I love seeing you with Nyx Az." You whispered into the soft silence, and you felt a pulse of utter adoration through the thread you both shared. 

"Hmmm, do you, love?" He mumbled into your hair, an ear-splitting grin stretching on his lips. He was unable to deny that primal part of him that basked in the glow of your words—that you had admitted enjoying seeing him with children. 

"It's my ultimate weakness." He chuckled softly. 

"Seeing you with him is mine, too," he confessed back, his arms loosening as you turned around to face him. For a minute, you just looked at him, eyes drinking in his handsome face, flitting over his lips and his nose before settling on his hazel eyes, which were gazing at you with such emotion that a lump formed at the back of your throat. 

Slowly, lazily, you brought your hand up to trace the features of his face before gently pushing a soft curl of his hair that had fallen over his forehead. The ring he had gifted you nearly 60 years ago glinted in the dim light. 

"Have you ever considered it?" You whispered shyly. It wasn't a topic you had discussed with Azriel much; there simply hadn't been enough time. Shortly after the bond had snapped for the both of you - after years of pining and yearning for each other - Rhys had gone under the mountain. You had spent those long years trying to hold everyone together, and then Rhys had returned, and you had been focused on bringing him and Feyre back from that dark place where they had found themselves. Then, the devastating war you had all been plunged into. It had not been an environment you could ever bring a child into. 

"What?" He knew what you meant, but he wanted to hear the words come from your lips. 

"Having children of our own?" The words felt fragile between you. Deep down, you knew you were both on the same page, but still, this was not a conversation you had had before. The soft smile dancing on Az's lips soothed you, however, as he, too, brought his hand up to delicately trace your features. 

"I didn't think I would ever get the opportunity to be a father, certainly didn't think I would be a good one. But seeing you with Nyx these last couple of months…yeah, I have." His confession was soft, and you couldn't help yourself as you closed that small distance between you two to press your lips to his in a kiss that held a promise and contained all of the love you could ever feel for the male. His arms wrapped tightly around you again as he held you close and lost himself in the delicious feeling of your lips on his. 

You broke away gently, slowly, languidly, eyes still closed as you leaned in to press short kisses to his lips. Resting your forehead against his, you stayed there, breathing him in, hands softly caressing his face. "You will be such a good dad, Az. You will be patient, kind and considerate. Fun when you want to be, firm when you need to be, and comforting when they're sad or frustrated. I've thought about it too." You made sure you delivered the words whilst looking him in the eyes, conveying just how much you meant the words.

"Yeah?" His voice was hoarse, and you spotted tears brimming in his beautiful eyes, your heart breaking in your chest at the fact that he had so desperately needed to hear the words. You leaned in to kiss his lips again, hand resting on his chest to feel his thundering heart as he breathed in a shaky breath. 

"I don't think I'm ready just yet. I still want to experience life with you," you whispered, an amused smirk playing on your lips. You hadn't had enough time with Az yet. There was still so much of the world to see, so many things you wanted to explore with just your mate before you put down roots and grew a beautiful family of your own. 

"I feel the same." He reassured, pulling you closer again, desperate to make sure not a single inch of space was between you two. 

"But when the time is right, when we are ready. It would bring me nothing but joy to have children together." A stunning smile you had not seen before stretched across Azriel's face, and you gasped at the powerful pulse that reverberated down the bond from your mate. It was pure light—beautiful, gleaming light—such happiness radiating from between you two that you imagined both of your skins glowing with it. 

"I love you so much, Y/N." He said reverently. 

"I love you too." The distance between your lips closed again as you placed a sweet kiss on his lips, tilting your head slightly to deepen in - determined to convey just how much you love him, how thankful you are to the Mother and the Cauldron for giving you, Azriel as your mate. You felt him moan softly as you slipped your tongue past the seam of his lips, gently licking into his mouth as you swallowed the soft sounds you were both making. You pulled away with a mischievous grin dancing on your lips, "Gods, our kids would be cute."

"Do you think so?" He asked, pushing your hair behind your pointed ears so he could see your face clearly.

"What, you don't?" You asked in mock shock and horror, causing another chuckle to rumble through his chest. 

"As long as they take after you, sweetheart, they will be the cutest children Prythian has ever seen." You laughed at him, but secretly, you hoped they looked nothing like you and took after the incredible man you had been mated to for all of these years—that they had his kind eyes, gentle smile, and luxurious locks of soft midnight hair.

"I can't wait." You whispered as you laid your head down beside him, nuzzling into his neck and breathing in his scent of mist and cedar, the smell of home. 

"Neither can I, my love." He whispered back to you as he held you close, kissing your hairline and temple. You both let your heavy eyelids droop as your limbs tangled on the sofa. Nyx continued to sleep softly beside you. One day soon, it would be your child in that crib, you promised yourself and Az through that golden thread deep in your heart before you both fell peacefully asleep. 

#azriel acotar #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel fluff #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar oneshot #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #acotar fluff #azriel one shot #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #rhysand #feyre archeron

[missmeinyourbones]

"we were supposed to be just friends." and gojo please?

WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE JUST FRIENDS (s. gojo)

a/n: slightly suggestive, will they won't they (they will), mentions of alcohol, satoru can't not be annoying for like three seconds

L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

Everything feels hot. And it shouldn't.

Because it's the end of autumn and your dress flows down past your knees and the wine in your glass was supposed to warm you up but now Satoru is everywhere and everything feels hot.

He has you pinned against the wall, and how you got from the front door to the hallway, you don't remember, but his lips feel like fire as they dance along your neck and down to your exposed collarbone.

Even breathless and tingling, you know this is wrong.

You knew from the moment Satoru asked you out for a few drinks—as friends, he promised. The second he pulled your chair out for you at the bar, the moment you took too long to pick out a dress, you knew this was how the night would end.

Because while you and Satoru are supposed to be friends, that's never been quite the case.

With eyes closed and a heaving chest, you manage to pant out a pathetic, "This shouldn't be happening—"

"Y'know, I'm not judging you or anything," Satoru chuckles against your sticky skin, his lips moving faster than the speed of light as they crawl up your neck and below your ear, "but if that's your idea of dirty talk, we might need to teach you a thing or two."

When he gently paws at your earlobe, you disguise the wanton whimper as an aggravated sigh, attempting to paw at his broad shoulders and remind him.

"This is a bad idea, we both agreed that it's a bad idea."

"Impossible," he gently smirks against your jaw before sinking his canines into the bone with a smug exhale. "It's half my idea, and I've never had a bad idea in my entire life."

Wrong, you immediately note.

You can think of a minimum of seventeen bad ideas Satoru has had, and that's just off of the top of your head. And of those seventeen, at least ten of them ended up like this—with the two of you gnawing at one another like animals.

Still embarrassingly breathless, you try to regain the upper hand, "So you're just talking to hear yourself speak?"

"Well, I can think of a few sweeter things to say," he smoothly mumbles against your jaw, relishing in the way his teeth gently scrape the skin lovingly.

His (huge) palms find your thighs with ease, and just as he's about to lift you in his arms and inevitably fuck you raw against your shitty apartment wall, a miracle happens.

With every ounce of strength you have, you're able to push him far enough away from you to actually look at him. Both of you panting and warm to the touch, you're able to look into his eyes with a telling frown.

"Satoru, we are supposed to be just friends."

And though your tone is stern, his reply is light and airy as he leans back in, insistent.

"We are friends."

When his tongue prods at your swollen lower lip once more, you pull him back by his hair. Not missing how he whines at the tugging, you raise your eyebrows, unamused.

"You kiss all your friends like this?"

"Only the ones as pretty as you," he coos immediately, leaning back into your mouth. But your grip on his hair prevents him from reaching what he wants, and when he notices the stern look in your eye, he softens.

"No," comes softly from his chest as he pulls away to properly look back at you. "No, I don't."

You exhale deeply, catching your breath and attempting to firmly plant your feet on the floor. Satoru's listening to you, or at least he's doing a good job at pretending to, and your gaze can’t help but fall to his swollen and spit-shined lips.

"We agreed to take things slow, to be friends for a while and not rush into things like we—"

Conveniently, his eyes do the same and flicker down to your own distracting pout.

The words meekly crawl out from his throat when he practically whimpers, "But you're wearing that lipstick you know I like."

"I shouldn't know you like it," you coldly remind him, "because we were supposed to be friends."

Satoru moves his hands from your thighs to your hips which, believe it or not, is a conservative improvement for him. Though his hands made a safe choice, his eyes falter back down to your neck when he presses a feathery kiss to your pulse point.

"Baby," he coos and you despise that you feel yourself clench around nothing. From a sixth sense or eye, Satoru somehow knows, because he smirks against your skin and brings his attention right before your lips.

"From the moment we met, we both knew we were never gonna be just friends."

He doesn't give you the privilege of a kiss, but lingers just above your lips as if his infinity is still on. You know enough to know it's off, it always is around you, but with the way he's so close and denying you his actual touch, you don’t quite know the difference.

When you don't answer, he prompts you tenderly. "Right?"

Stubbornly, you turn your head to look away from his stupid face, but all that does is further expose your neck to him.

Practically singing with mockery, Satoru's tongue dances along your jaw when he grins.

"Your silence is more telling than you think."

You gently shove him off of you, rolling your eyes in frustration at his cocky (yet correct) statement. He jokingly stumbles back at your shove, hand over his heart as he huffs out a whine.

"I can't stand you," you grumble.

With a shit-eating grin, Satoru sighs and lays back on your sofa, spreading his legs comfortably wide and patting his thick and barren thigh.

"Then come sit."

#L's MIDNIGHTS EVENT! #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo fic #gojo satoru fic #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

bioluminescence | b. blake

masterlist

summary: season one — you thought all bellamy blake wanted was sex and other women, but when you sneak outside of the camp walls at night, bioluminescent plants are not the only shocking discovery you make, and not everyone is happy about it.

warnings: fluff, swearing, jealousy, mention of sexual themes, (L/N) use, roma

pairing: bellamy blake x reader

word count: 4.1k

Sleep was a rare luxury after you and the other Ark prisoners were sent to Earth, especially since you were all crowded in a small camp surrounding the drop ship. Teenage hormones, anger, violence, and trauma were not a great combination for peace. So, it was either crying, fistfights, or the incessant moans of couples who couldn't keep it in their pants for more than five minutes that usually kept you awake at night.

You were certain it was Bellamy Blake and his two model-looking female companions who were often to blame for that last subject. Although to everyone in the camp, it was very obvious that their relationship was solely physical, neither Roma nor Bree seemed to appreciate when other women talked, interacted with, or even sat near him. Clarke was a heavy target because of her co-leadership with Bellamy. And so were you.

You were within the inner circle, the informal 'Earth council'. You were also handy with a rifle and knowledgeable in tracking, so it wasn't exactly surprising whenever Bellamy took you with him on various missions and hunts. Sometimes though, he would bring you with him even if the task wasn't within your skillset—those were the times you were left feeling a little confused.

Nevertheless, a small friendship sprung from it. You weren't best buddies, but you weren't opposed to each other's company either. That was a big no-no to Roma and Bree and they frequently expressed that fact through passive-aggressive tactics.

This night was no different from others. Thankfully, it was the never-ending fistfights that kept you awake instead of other's carnal endeavours. You opened the flap of your tent and stepped out into the crisp air; autumn was definitely approaching. Hugging your jacket closer to your body, you looked around the camp, unsure of where to wait out the commotion. Everywhere was taken, so you decided a brief walk in the woods wouldn't hurt. Well, you hoped it wouldn't. At least if the Grounders killed you, you would finally get some undisturbed rest.

As you made your way over to one of the fence-wall openings, you ran smack-bang into a barely dressed girl with long brown hair. Roma.

"Watch where you're going, bitch," she spat, scrutinising your appearance from top to bottom.

Ignoring her lovely remark, you eyed her jeans and the way her upper half was only covered by a grey sports bra. "Aren't you cold?"

"Not now I'm not." She smirked, eyes flickering to Bellamy's tent.

You grimaced. I so didn't need to know that.

Right on cue, Bellamy emerged from his tent, fully clothed. He scanned the surroundings before his hardened gaze briefly landed on Roma and then settled on you; it was impossible to miss the way his face softened when your eyes met. Strange.

"Jealous?" she asked, regaining your attention.

"Unlikely."

You brushed past her, though she made an effort to forcefully knock your shoulder and spit another curse at you. Classy.

Bellamy took a step toward you. "Hey—"

But you simply moved past him, continuing toward the wall and saying, "A real gem you've got yourself there."

At least Bree was all bark and no bite.

You could hear him sigh as the distance between you both grew.

Truth be told, you were a little jealous. An unfortunate truth but still a truth all the same. You knew you were beginning to feel something deeper for Bellamy and it was becoming difficult listening to other girls brag about their nights with him. Not like you would ever tell him though—he wasn't a relationship type of guy and as far as you could tell, his feelings for you were platonic.

Never mind. You could settle for his friendship... for now.

You had made it outside the camp walls. At first, you planned on circling the fence for a while, but when your eyes caught on something glowing from the opposite side of a tree, you strayed from your path. Rounding the tree's trunk, you found a glowing neon-pink flower; the species of which you were unsure, but it was beautiful. Then, in your peripheral vision, there was something else lighting up your vision, something blue this time. There was another flower just a few trees away.

And again, you walked over to the strange plant, only to find yourself now on a journey that kept leading to more and more glowing flowers the deeper into the woods you trekked. They were almost everywhere and at this point, you were practically running with an excited grin on your face. In the near distance, numerous radiant colours lit up an area covered by a thick cluster of trees. You wove yourself through branches and leaves, pushing your way into the bright section of the woods.

Once you emerged from the trees, amazement morphed into your expression. You had stepped into a small meadow filled with glowing flowers of various colours that covered the forest floor. There were countless species, but they all shared the same mesmerising radiance. Much to your disbelief, there were even electric blue luminous butterflies that concealed the tree trunks and fluttered in the air.

"Bioluminescence," you whispered to yourself.

It was so beautiful, you could have cried.

Maybe you should just leave the camp and build a hut here. It would certainly beat living with the others.

As you moved further into the small clearing, the butterflies flew closer around you. Holding out an arm, one butterfly tentatively circled your hand before landing in your palm. You laughed in amazement, watching as the small creature curiously crawled across your hand and ticked your skin. Okay, that settled it—you were definitely a Disney princess.

The sound of branches snapping and leaves rustling suddenly pulled you from your amazement; it was coming from where you had entered the clearing. You reached down to your belt only to find the knife holster on it empty. Of course, you didn't bring your knife. You had left the camp's safety and didn't even think to bring a weapon. So stupid.

Before you could reprimand yourself any further, a tall figure emerged from the tree line. The tight dark blue shirt was an easy identifier as to who the figure was. And so were those deep brown eyes.

It was Bellamy. "Woah."

You let out a sigh of relief, feeling your tensed body relax again.

His gaze swept across the vivid tree-encompassed meadow, sharing the same wonderous expression you once had. The overpowering glow from the butterflies turned his tanned skin a light blue, defining the contours of his face and arm muscles. He sort of looked otherworldly.

"What are you doing out here?" you asked.

The incident before you left camp quickly returned to mind and it was evident in the slight irritation etched on your face. He didn't need to respond for you to realise that he had followed you. Great. His little girlfriends were going to have a field day tomorrow if they saw him come after you.

Bellamy's eyes found yours, taking note of your negative reaction. His steps were cautious as he began walking towards you. "I could ask you the same thing."

He stopped in front of you, peering down through a few stray strands of dark brown hair whilst wearing his infamous lazy smirk. No wonder girls were always fawning over him; he was gorgeous, and he damn well knew it too. Even you were falling into the very same trap. Unlike them, though, it was the moments you shared with him when you were alone that conjured your attraction to him. Sure, he was easy on the eyes, but you had also learnt that he was surprisingly a decent human being. More than decent actually, despite how he presented himself to others.

He treated you with respect—a lot more than many others had ever done. You had learnt to trust each other, communicate effectively, and work as a team. Sometimes, you would even find yourselves discussing things that you both intended to keep within till the day you died, things that felt too intimate to share with anyone else.

No matter how much you hated it, you couldn't help but develop feelings for him. Even when it seemed he was preoccupied with other women.

Bellamy eyed you, waiting for the snarky retort he knew you were putting together.

You sighed and turned around, crouching on the floor to inspect one of the neon-pink flowers. "Shouldn't you be teaching Roma and Bree gun handling safety in your tent right now?"

That line was dangerously close to sounding like jealousy and you knew it. You bit your tongue because Lord knows you were most likely to expose your feelings for Bellamy through word vomit.

If only you had been facing him to witness the shame washing through his eyes.

"Funny," he said. "But no. I've got more important things to do."

"Like what? Making sure your best hunting partner doesn't get killed by glowing plants?" you joked, glancing over your shoulder to see his reaction.

It wasn't a grin or smirk like you expected. Not even a little chuckle. Instead, he simply stared at you with this intense look in his eye; it was almost sad but also like he was trying to communicate something to you telepathically.

"Something like that," he murmured.

After those words left his mouth, something about the atmosphere shifted. You suddenly felt overwhelmed with emotion and his soul-piercing stare was not helping. There wasn't a wide selection of movies on the Ark, but you had watched them all, including all the romance movies. The only thing you could compare Bellamy's gaze to was Mr. Darcy's in Pride and Prejudice. Reluctance. Longing. It was all there. Had you been completely wrong about his feelings for you? Or were you just imagining it?

The likelihood of Bellamy sharing your same feelings seemed impossible, so you chalked it up to your wishful imagination.

You stood back up, facing him but avoiding making eye contact. "Well, I—uh," you stammered. "I'm not going back. Not yet."

"I didn't come here to take you back."

That made your gaze meet his.

Why did you come then, Bellamy? you thought.

He side-stepped you and you turned to see him wandering deeper into the meadow. He began observing each and every beauty and oddity the small sanctuary held, touching the petals of every flower with a delicateness you had never witnessed before. Soon enough, you felt compelled to join him.

The two of you must have spent an hour in that meadow, inspecting each species of flora, hovering your fingertips through the glowing cusp of each plant as if you could feel its light on your skin, laughing together when a butterfly landed on the tip of your nose. Sometimes you caught Bellamy watching whenever your face lit up with excitement as you discovered something new. He never really looked at what you had found; he just looked at you, but you were too overjoyed to even contemplate why.

You felt like you had entered a dream, protected from the outside world where there were Grounders, war, and bitchy brown-haired girls. Everything real was forgotten, even your unrequited feelings for Bellamy. You just enjoyed his company in this dream and pretended it would last forever.

Somehow, you had both ended up lying on the forest floor side-by-side, surrounded by flowers as you stared up at the starry night sky through the tree crowns. It wasn't as cold as before; you guessed it was because of Bellamy's close proximity to you. One of his hands was behind his head, the other on his stomach. His warmth was radiating off his skin and onto your own.

You could have fallen asleep if you closed your eyes. Probably not the most logical idea though.

Bellamy's quiet, yet deep voice disrupted the silence. "It's just a distraction, you know?"

"Hm?"

"Those girls," he clarified, and you watched as his words turned to mist, carrying into the black sky. "If I focus too much on the fact that I have to control an entire camp of teenagers, fight a war against the Grounders, while taking care of Octavia and y—" he cut himself off, closing his eyes with a sigh. "I just feel like I start to lose myself."

Your focus shifted from the sky to him. Even he didn't seem to be looking at the sky anymore, despite his gaze still being pointed straight upward. He looked lost in his own thoughts. Serious and sombre—much different compared to how they had been just a short while ago.

"Well," you began softly. "We can't have that. You already seem a little rough around the edges, Blake."

A grin slowly formed across his lips and he shook his head. He turned his head to the side, looking down at your smiling expression from where he lay. The weightiness from before had melted from his demeanour. Because of a little distraction.

You had thought those two girls he spent most nights with were there purely for his own physical needs or because his attraction to them was greater than his self-control. Never had you contemplated the fact that it might have been because he was mentally struggling with the hardships of being a leader. Of course, how could you have? He had never told you before now.

Your brows furrowed. "Why tell me?"

The muscles in his jaw clenched and the grin fell from his lips. A sense of seriousness returned but this time it was less heavy. It seemed more like a weight was lifting from his shoulders. Like a declaration. Like a long-awaited confession.

You felt something warm brush against your hand; it gently grazed over your knuckles, lighting a fire beneath your skin. In Bellamy's dark eyes, you could see the reflection of his hand caressing your own and your heart leapt to your throat.

"Why do you think?" he murmured, his eyes flickering between your own, urging you to connect the dots instead of making him say it aloud.

Your lips parted and the crease between your eyebrows deepened. 

Every time he picked you first to be his partner on a mission, every deep conversation you shared when no one else was around—they all had a hidden meaning. All the times his hand brushed against yours as you walked in sync side-by-side, the times you caught him staring at you through a one-hundred-person dense crowd, or the way he would step in front of you as if to shield you whenever there was even a hint of danger—it was all because...

"Oh," you whispered.

"Yeah." His eyes flickered between yours before he turned back to the stars. "And I—I understand if you don't feel the same way; I know I haven't given you much reason to. From those girls to the... the radio, and the culling on the Ark. If I could take—"

His sentence was cut short as you leaned over him, pressing your lips to his. You could feel his pulse racing in his lips. Or was it your own? Probably both. Your hair fell to the side and his mouth started to move against your own. He began to rise, moving you up along with him until you were both kissing in a sitting position.

Bellamy's hand moved to cradle your jaw, his lips slow and tender. Everything felt like it had fallen into place, like this was exactly how things were supposed to be, with his lips on yours in the middle of a fairy-tale-like meadow whilst surrounded by a field of glowing flowers and beautiful winged creatures.

The butterflies weren't just circling you now, they were somehow fluttering around in your stomach too and it felt exhilarating.

Unfortunately, the kiss did have to come to an end at some point. Even so, the warm fluttering in your stomach never ceased. Bellamy had pulled away first, his hands gently falling from your jaw and back into his lap. He was looking at you and at first, you were afraid he would get up and leave, or tell you he had changed his mind. But he didn't. A smile crept across his lips—not a self-satisfied smirk or a tantalising grin, but a genuine smile.

Forget the butterflies; your stomach was doing somersaults now. He found your hand once more and interlocked it with his own in your lap. His thumb drew small circles on the side of your palm almost as if he knew you needed a reminder that this moment was really happening.

"That was my first kiss," you admitted.

His smile became a little nervous. "Was it okay?"

Was it okay? This boy was a little clueless if he couldn't tell that you thoroughly enjoyed having his lips on yours. So, you answered him with another soft peck to his lips, then pulled back again to see his reaction. He chuckled, nodding his head to say he understood.

"We can always come out here to practice if you want," he said, this time with a smirk.

You laughed. "I think that's a good idea."

He tucked a lock behind your ear and gently brushed pieces of hair away from your face. You could feel warmth creeping into your cheeks, turning them a rosy pink. Well, it was probably more of a violet hue due to the intense blue glow from the plants and butterflies. Either way, it still revealed how nervous he made you feel.

"It's getting late. We should probably head back and sleep," you said. Bellamy raised an eyebrow, creating his own little innuendo with your words and your eyes widened. "Not together! Alone, I mean. In separate tents. With clothes... on..." you trailed off, realising you were only digging yourself a deeper hole.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in embarrassment.

He just chuckled and rose to his feet. "Come on, (L/N). Let's go sleep."

You rolled your eyes with a smile as he helped you stand up with him.

For a brief moment, you gave the area one last look, imprinting the memory into your mind. Who could have guessed that when you left the camp walls you would enter a fairy tale of vivid colours and electric butterflies? Or, even more surprising, that Bellamy Blake would later confess his feelings for you? All you had wanted was an escape; instead, you got a dream come true.

Bellamy pressed a hand to your lower back, guiding you with him towards the tree line in comfortable silence.

The walk back to the drop ship was pretty quiet. No more words needed to be said; a conversation that clarified what you two were now could wait for tomorrow when your brains weren't clouded by fatigue and the fresh excitement from confession. Some things hadn't changed though. Bellamy still stole glances at you every now and then, as you did him, earning a nervous smile and blush each time either of you got caught. Your hands alternated from brushing against one another to ever-so-slightly linking pinkies.

Okay, maybe things had changed a little.

You passed each flower that had led you to the meadow and this time, they became less and less as you grew closer to the drop ship. As you came up on the camp walls, the sound of fighting and conversations had died down and was replaced by the faint crackling of dying fires.

Finally, you both stepped through one of the openings and were within the camp. There didn't seem to be anyone awake; with the way the moon was shining down straight overhead, it was clear why. 

Your pinkie fell from Bellamy's and you moved in front of him, taking a few slow steps backwards. "Uh, that's my tent over there," you said, gesturing behind you.

His eyes never left yours as he continued to walk toward you. "Yeah, I know."

"Oh, you know, do you?"

A grin stretched across his lips as he hummed and reached for your waist, pulling you against his body. Your hands wound around his neck, a smile present on your face as he leaned in, his lips mere inches from your own. His lips had just brushed against your own when someone behind you cleared their throat and you both jumped apart.

Bellamy peered beside your head, semi-glaring at the interrupter behind you.

What a surprise it was when you turned around to see Roma, arms crossed—clothes on, thankfully—and looking severely unhappy.

"You have got to be kidding me," she said with a scowl.

Perfect. Great. Absolutely fantastic. Looks like her field day had come early.

No way. You were too tired to deal with this. You gave Bellamy an apologetic glance before attempting to slip away through the gaps between tents. Unfortunately, it wasn't in Roma's best interest to let you off so easily. She caught your wrist and jerked you back toward her.

Bellamy looked like he was about to step in, but you beat him to it.

You tore your wrist from her grasp, words dripping with bitterness as you said, "Never do that again."

For a split second, she looked the slightest bit intimidated, but then quickly covered it up with disdain. Her gaze flickered from you to Bellamy; it was hard to miss the way she straightened her posture and tried to look more presentable for him.

And for a split second of your own, you felt the slightest twinge of fear that Bellamy would change his mind about you and leave with her again. But at that very same moment, he gently grabbed your hand and guided you back to his side, dissipating all your previous worries.

Both you and Roma looked down at your interlocked hands in disbelief.

"Listen, Roma." He sighed, sounding like he was desperately trying to keep his cool. "I think it's best if you and Bree find another tent to sleep in from now on."

Her disbelief turned into pure astonishment. "What? Are you serious?"

Bellamy lightly squeezed your hand.

God, he was putting this girl through the five stages of grief. You almost felt bad. Then you remembered the daily torment she had been putting you through just for existing and the remorse immediately washed away.

"Because of her? She's not even—"

"Choose your next words very carefully," he warned in a dangerously low voice.

Her mouth opened and shut a few times before she realised any insult thrown at you would end badly for her. It's not like Bellamy would hurt her, but he did have power over the camp, so he would probably force her to share a tent with Myles or something. His non-stop babbling would drive her to insanity.

She gave him a defiant look. "What if we don't want to leave?"

"I'll take the tent down and move it somewhere else."

"Then Bree and I will make both your lives a living Hell."

You could hear Bellamy suppress a laugh. "Unlikely," he echoed your previous words.

Roma looked to you as if you could help her case—the audacity. You gave her a sarcastic 'what-can-you-do?' shrug which just enhanced her seething temper. It was obvious that she was getting nowhere and the moment she realised, you swore you could see her ego literally deflating.

She made a short high-pitched noise of frustration and spun around, her hair whipping melodramatically through the air as she practically stomped back to Bellamy's tent. You could hear her call out to the other girl inside, telling her to 'pack her shit' and that they were moving tents. Not long after, the blonde-haired girl emerged from the tent flap holding a bundle of clothes. Roma must have explained to her what happened because they both shot a venomous glare in your direction and then walked off in search of another tent.

You sighed in relief as they disappeared out of sight. You were about to walk back to your own tent, but Bellamy tugged you back to him once more, his arms wrapping around your torso as your hands fell on his chest.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I thought she'd handle it better."

You fiddled with the material of his shirt, half-smiling. "I told you she was a gem."

"Yeah." He chuckled. "My taste of women has been a little... questionable."

Your hands moved up to his shoulders, pulling your body up against his. His fingertips grazed the exposed skin of your waist, sending a wave of goosebumps across your body.

"You should really try breaking that trend."

He had that same intense look in his eye as when you were both in the meadow. This time it didn't hold any sadness or longing, but rather a sense of finality and affection, like his greatest wish had finally come true—that would make two of you. One of his hands moved to cup your cheek, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb as his face grew closer to yours.

The heart thumping in your chest almost gave out as you reflexively leaned further into his warm embrace.

"I already have," he murmured before his soft lips descended upon yours.

And the butterflies returned.

#yes roma is a warning #wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️ #bellamy blake fanfiction #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake #bellamy x clarke #bellarke #bellamy blake smut #bellamy blake x reader #bellamyblake #the100edit #the 100 #bellarke fanfiction #bob morley smut #bob morley #bellamy blake x oc #bellamy blake x y/n

[delfiore]

—LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO.

pairing: leah williamson x reader

synopsis: a collection of private moments from a relationship between two public figures.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: IMPLICIT SMUT

a/n: this fic was proudly sponsored by hozier’s entire discography and my need to get a gf

SEQUEL: DO YOU THINK I HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOU?

ONE. As It Was.

As it always was, London was raining when you came home.

The pitter-patter of the rain hitting the window panes reminded you of childhood, when it was autumn and smelled like the earth, and burying yourself in the piles of dry leaves in the backyard was like swimming in the clouds.

The rain reminded you of love and hot cocoa and scented candles.

The apartment was bathed in an orange hue from the three candles placed neatly on the coffee table when you dragged your suitcase inside. You could still hear the rain when you saw the way her eyes lit up and felt her heart pressed against yours.

You let yourself smile like it was the easiest thing in the world; because it was. You were home because you were with her.

TWO. Eat Your Young.

“Babe! What d’you want for dinner?” You heard her call from the living room.

You had just finished a chapter from your book. “Eh . . . pasta?”

“We already had pasta last night, love.”

“More pasta?” You smiled sheepishly, seeing the way she rolled her eyes but went along with your idea.

To her, there was never anything she could have the heart to deny you from, especially now that she had you back after having lent you to your work for so long.

You were supposed to be halfway across the world filming your new movie. It was only because of the writer’s strike, an unforeseen event, that gave you back to her. You had flown back from a shoot to be there for her in the days after she ruptured her ACL and when she had her surgery, but she found herself missing you the moment you left for work again.

Music played softly from the speaker on the kitchen counter as you chopped the cherry tomatoes while she boiled the noodles since that was the only thing you were okay with her doing without burning the entire building down.

“Remember to let the water boil first,” you said without turning around.

“I did,” she whined, her words trailing longer than necessary if she was telling the truth.

You stopped chopping and glanced behind your shoulder with a deadpan. “Leah.”

The water was clearly not bubbling, and yet the poor rigatoni noodles were already dunked in the pot.

“I’m sorry, I forgot again,” the girl smiled sheepishly.

You rolled your eyes at her and shook your head as she sidled up behind you with her arms around your waist.

You could never grow tired of being held in her arms like this, the warmth created by her chest pressing up against your back, and the anticipation of her timid kisses against your neck. The knife in your hand had long been set down in fear of injury by your trembling hands. Your footballer always liked to tease you until you had no choice but to submit.

“Am I forgiven?” Her voice was husky in your ear.

You were quick to regain your composure before you turned around. “Depends on if those noodles are edible or not.”

“Or we could just ditch dinner and eat each other instead.”

“Cute,” you grinned and pressed your lips against hers. You heard the slightest whimper when you gathered her bottom lip with your teeth and lightly tugged on it. “Needs some seasoning. Otherwise, good enough.”

“That’s what I meant, obviously.”

In the end, the pasta was long forgotten, and you had to order a pizza instead because, by the time she was done, you could barely walk to the other side of the kitchen.

THREE. I, Carrion (Icarian).

You had always been uncomfortable with silence. It was why you brought your speaker everywhere, why you preferred the city over the countryside, why you always felt the need to fill the silence in a room with conversation where there were other people. To you, silence meant a weapon, a way of waging war without actually doing it—the cowardice of dishonesty. So any chance you had to snuff out a glimpse of it, you did. Most of the time, though, the only war waged was the one you did to yourself in your mind.

But whenever you are with her, none of those threats present themselves. She has made silence enjoyable and something you wish you had learned to appreciate earlier, not fear it.

She had put on a movie for the both of you to watch on the couch. You usually felt the need to provide commentary were you with friends, but you were content with enjoying the movie in silence, occasionally looking over to your blonde lover to admire her on the other end of the couch. Your left leg was currently stretched across the cushions, as Leah gave you a foot massage whilst watching the movie.

Sometimes she didn’t feel real, like it was all a sick and twisted dream waiting to drop you on your head when you wake up. But it never did, because every time you reached for her, she was always there; even when you were timezones apart, she would find a way to be there for you in spirit.

“Babe, watch the movie. I like this one,” she spoke, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“I feel like it should be me giving you a foot massage,” you said, lifting your chin towards her healing knee.

“Nah. You were the one sitting on a 12-hour flight to get back here,” she put pressure in the center of your foot.

With your arm on the backrest, you lifted it to brush the tips of your fingers against her hair, inching closer toward the skin on her neck. She noticed, of course, and sent a cheeky grin your way.

Your lover smiled and laughed like a child does. You loved it whenever she showed her teeth when she smiled, stripping down the front of the stoic and reliable captain of European champions that she had to be. You hated that she always lifted others up, yet put so much pressure on herself. You wished that she would be selfish sometimes, for when you weren’t there to pick up the pieces.

You never fared well, being away from her for long, which was why when she pulled you towards her and closed the distance between the two of you on the couch, you obliged.

“I love you,” she whispered after pressing a slow kiss on your lips.

With a lovesick sigh, you caressed her cheek and repeated her words. You loved the way her blue eyes narrowed watching you when you were so close to her face. The movie was running on the TV, but the only one you wanted to watch was her. You’d have to rewind it later.

FOUR. To Someone From A Warm Climate (Uiscefhuaraithe).

There was a simplicity in all of it. This aspect of your life that, amidst the chaos and complications and unfairness in the world, was just that. Love. It was simple, it was sweet, it was yours.

It reminded you of a quote you read once: “He is half of my soul, as the poets say.” If anyone asked you why you loved her, you wouldn’t be able to answer. It would simply be that because she was she, and you were you.

Maybe Zeus never intended for soulmates to find each other. He was the one who split them up in the first place because he knew they would be impossible to part if the two halves merged.

She is half of your soul, as the poets say.

There was something so transcending about loving someone, and having it reciprocated. Every part of it; the good, the bad, the ugly. But you wanted all of it. You wanted to experience everything with her, because she was half of your soul, and it was the only way you could ever feel close to whole again before Zeus split you into two.

Your lover was panting quietly on top of you, her golden hair falling over her face like a lion’s mane. Her eyes fluttered close, her lips parted, her skin was hot to the touch. You watched, seeing the slightest shift in her face as she pulled your legs to her chest, the friction of her rocking slowly turning palpable as it fell into a rhythm. You would hold onto her, your fingers pressing down to create temporary craters into her skin, treading lightly, not wanting to disturb her pleasure, like a lone astronaut exploring a rogue planet.

You sighed contentedly hearing her quiet whines, an indication of an impending release. Your lover has never been loud, like she was saving everything she was feeling for you like everything would only be contained in these four walls, only for the both of you to share.

At some point, she had mumbled something and leaned down to flip you on your front. Even while her movements were restricted by her healing knee, she still liked to be as rough as she could, and you liked it, when she was always so sweet and gentle out of bed. It made you feel wanted, the way she pinned you to the bed and pressed herself against you, the way she intertwined your fingers and coaxed you through your high and kissed you until your lips were bruised and pulsating.

She made you feel wanted, even after you both had given each other euphoria, her frantic kisses to your skin always managed to elicit short giggles out of you. You would whisper in her ear after she had rolled over, the bedsheet warm and damp where she lay, holding her lean body close to yours, just like before Zeus had split you in half.

You are half of her soul, as the poets say, and unless a primordial god physically grabbed you by the waist and tore you away from your soulmate, you would stay here, one moment after another, until infinity. After that, you’d wake up the next morning and do it all over again.

FIVE. Wasteland, Baby!

Your lover was a light sleeper. You had discovered that within the first few months of dating. The way she stirred awake was not dissimilar to how a fussy baby wakes up at the slightest of noises. Usually, she would be quite grumpy as well.

Your circadian rhythm looked more like arrhythmia with the jet lag you were experiencing, in addition to the irregular hours you slept due to having to adjust for filming. Which was why you were in the living room, reading, so your tossing and turning wouldn’t disturb her sleep.

Once again, whenever you were with her, the silence didn’t bother you. Not when you were bathed in her scent wearing her sweater and the premise of her resting a room away from you.

It was around two in the morning when you heard the bedroom door open and close, and the sound of quiet feet shuffling on the floor.

“Hey, you. Why are you awake?” You asked gently, extending a hand out to her.

“I woke up to use the bathroom and you weren’t there,” her bottom lip jutted out like it always did when she wanted your attention.

You stifled a giggle and a coo at how adorable a 26-year-old woman could be. “I just thought I’d leave you be since I couldn’t sleep.”

Without prompting, your lover made herself comfortable on the couch and snuggled into your side. “You’re wearing my jumper.”

You continued reading with one hand while the other rested on her head, and stroking it lightly. “Yeah, found it lying around.” You placed a short kiss on her hair.

“I love this, Y/N,” she said, her words nearly unintelligible from mumbling into the fabric of your sweatshirt. “I made a Pinterest board the other day for our future home.”

“Ooh, tell me more.”

“I’d like to live in the countryside somewhere, with like a farm. It’ll be a cottage with vines all over the walls and everything, wooden kitchen set, a sunroom.”

“I can see that,” you said, “what about the city? You ever dreamed of living in New York? Paris? Hong Kong?”

“I’d feel like a fish out of water. I can barely stomach London. You’d been to all those places.”

You have, but nowhere felt like home unless you were with her. You could make a home in Antarctica if she was there with you.

“All of them are overrated anyway.” You hummed. “I like it wherever I’m with you.”

Her nose crinkled whenever you’d say cheesy stuff like that. You never knew how much those words made her heart skip a beat, as she buried her face in your neck.

“I realized as I said it,” you scrunched your face too.

“Working with Wes Anderson made you a sap now, hasn’t it?” She quite enjoyed this side of you. “It’s fine. I like it.”

Sleep found her again shortly after. In the morning, she woke with a sore back, but her heart was full, realizing she had been tangled in your arms all night.

SIX. Swan Upon Leda.

To know pain; the kind of pain that cuts through your flesh and leaves you bleeding dry. A stinging sensation that soon turns into agonizing hellfire and the knowing that there are several more spirals of hell still waiting to make you bleed. It was to witness someone who was half of your soul be in pain whilst you were powerless against the evil, and all you could do was pray that it would spare your soulmate and take you instead.

Your hand clasped around hers like iron chains, rubbing her back soothingly, as if the warmth from the back might manifest in her front and assuage the pain. She lay on the bathroom floor, her breathing slow and hard, like she was grappling with the evil that, by the looks of it, was winning. Clutching the heating pad to her stomach, her only lifeline, she curled away from you and into herself even further.

“Love, let’s move you to the bedroom where you can lay comfortably, yeah?” You asked gently.

She huffed and grunted. “Can’t move. Hurts.”

Your lover, your Lioness, Queen of Europe, falling apart by an invisible evil, immobilizing her like a wounded deer. The coldness of the tiles couldn’t have helped, but she couldn’t move.

Spare her. Give me the pain instead.

You leaned down, lowering yourself slowly to the cold, until you were flat on the floor too. Gently, you pulled her to turn to face you. Your Lioness was clenching her jaw, a vein splitting her forehead from how hard she was trying to pretend it didn’t bother her.

And it stung even more when she let out a choked sob.

Then she said with a trembling sigh, “Don’t want you to see me like this.”

Her face was stained with streaks of silent tears, a sign of the raging battle she had to endure for years finally getting the best of her. But the evil had never seen the best of her; she reserved it all for you.

“Oh, baby.” Your hand came up to cup her face, the frame that held the entire world.

It didn’t matter that your lover was curled up on the bathroom floor, she was still your bravest girl, your strongest soldier, and your fiercest Lioness.

“You’re the strongest person I know,” you said sincerely, “and I’m not leaving you, not now, not ever.”

Your lover beamed tearfully like sunshine in the rain and clung herself onto you.

Young love was the thing of fairytales. You would never claim to have it all figured out, but if what you had wasn’t love, you didn’t know the half of anything.

SEVEN. Like Real People Do.

As serious as your lover made herself out to be, she was the biggest goof on the planet the moment a drop of alcohol entered her system. Never acted out of line, never said anything that she’d regret in the morning, just the rowdiest thing that considered waving her arms in the air while wobbling back and forth dancing. It made a spectacular scene to watch, especially whenever she was with her best friend, whom you had to thank for bringing her into your life.

Even the people in her life who knew her as responsible and trustworthy would be concerned at this entirely different side to her, to which you only waved them off with a laugh, and said, “She’ll be fine.”

She would always be because she always had you to take care of her.

“Water, babe?” She knew to listen to you and chugged the whole thing in one breath.

“Come dance with me?” She offered when the DJ slowed the music.

She looked too good not to, so you took her hand and followed her to the dance floor. Once there, she wrapped her arms around your waist and pressed a kiss on your forehead. “Come closer. You smell so good.”

You laughed. “Creep.”

“This is our song,” she chuckled.

The familiar melody elicited distant memories of shy ‘hello’s and stolen glances, her best friend pushing her towards you, and her keeping your number on the phone all night until she finally gathered the courage to press on it.

It was the first song on every playlist you sent each other, like a stamp, a greeting, a confession.

It was the song that played when it was just the two of you alone after she became her country’s pride and joy.

“I remember,” you said, brushing a strand of her hair back from her blue eyes, dazed ones that looked at you like you held the world in your hands. “I thought you’d be more confident, just from seeing how you are on the pitch. It was very endearing.”

“I was nervous, okay?” She groaned, laughing quietly. “I didn’t wanna embarrass myself in front of a movie star.”

“I’m glad you asked me to dance, even though—”

“I’m shit at dancing, yeah.”

You giggled, and bumped her nose. “I feel so lucky to have you in my life.”

She was swaying you back and forth, humming to the song gently, a far cry from the first time you had asked her to dance, and she panicked and said her legs were made for football and not dancing.

“I’m still shit at dancing,” she chuckled.

“I don’t care,” you shook your head. “I still love you.”

“Even if I’ve got two left feet?”

“Mmhm.”

She grinned and kissed you, inhaling deeply. “I can feel Alex taking pictures of us—Yup, her phone is out and it’s pointing at us. Very subtle, Alex.” You laughed when you turned around to see your lover already flipping the bird at her best friend.

“We do have her to thank for getting us to meet.”

“That’s ‘cause she beat me to it first. I would have found a way to you.”

“You didn’t even know me then, babe.”

“Yeah, but I’d still find my way to you.” She was giggling because you had pulled a face. “What? It’s true.”

Leah loved deeply, and boldly. You made her feel special like she was the only person in the world. You also made her feel ordinary, like she wasn’t the face of a nation and only any other stranger walking down the street. Inside the little bubble you were both in, you were just Leah and Y/N, two people in love.

The song had come to its end, and yet she still hadn’t let you go. Three little words sat on the tip of both of your tongues. You pressed a kiss to her lips first. She kissed you back, on the lips, then on the neck softly.

I love you.

I love you.

What you didn’t know was that she planned to make you a promise of forever, with a ring hidden in a drawer waiting at home.

Simple. Sweet. Ours.

EIGHT. De Selby (Part 1).

“Lee?”

“Hm?”

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

“Mate, honestly like—“

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson imagines #leah williamson #arsenal wfc #england wnt #lionesses #leah williamson x you #leah williamson angst #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso #fifa wwc 2023 #engwnt #woso imagine

[sofs16]

our trust

part 1: a paddock day , part 2: our leclerc win, part 3: our love in photos, part 4: our home, part 5: ripples in our love

#TAGLIST : @autumn-bitch7 @raevyng @luvvtrent @boherahpsody @treehouse-mouse @chasing-liberosis @celestialams @cherry-piee @stevesthetics @ilovechickenwings

the night of the fight, charles was slapped with the harsh reality you had left as he entered your shared home.

usually, you would provide him with delicious food you cooked by the time he was home. now, he had to walk next block to pick up some food. though he could just order, he opted not to wallow on the couch and take the 5 minute walk.

the first thing that stood out to him as he entered was your shoes. white stilettos you’d wear on your date nights, beige sandals you wore practically everywhere, and the adidas shoes he had gotten your for your anniversary with a strawberry keychain, your favorite.

he stared back at the empty coat hanger where yours was, usually. then he made his way to the living room, no blanket of yours was there or those little stuffed toys he had grown to love and appreciate over the last few months.

making his way to the dining or kitchen area, it was only set for one. he sat down staring at your seat. the same seat where he had pleaded you to stay.

after eating, he made it back to your shared room. the things he noticed at first glance was baffling. no salt lamp you loved so dearly, no fluffy blanket you loved, no slippers beside the bed, your skincare products all gone, your jewelry box missing from your bedside table, and many more.

he saw your closet halved of what it was. he sighed and took his pajamas before entering the bathroom and feeling the hole in his chest grow deeper. he had done this to himself.

he settled in your side of the bed, hoping to feel the last ounce of you. scrolling on his phone, he conversed with the grid on his mistakes and what he should do. pierre had told him to march over to france and beg yn to take him back, alonso was strongly opposed to that, suggesting to charles he should give her space but also make himself known. so that’s what he did.

he texted you every time he could and also stalked every yn fanpage known to man. when he got the message you wanted to meet at baku, he held himself from screaming in excitement as he was having dinner with the grid.

y/n/n my love 😘❤️

september 10, 2024

y/n/n my love 😘❤️

would you mind if i went to baku this week and we talked?

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

Of course, amour! Would you want me to pick you up at the airport?:)

september 11, 2024

y/n/n my love 😘❤️

if you’re not too busy

slr i just finished booking the flight

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

I am never too busy for you.

y/n/n my love 😘❤️

Thennn tomorrow 9pm, pick me up?

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

Can not wait to see you, I love you! 😘

Charles rushed out of the ferrari garage to fetch you. On the way, he was starting to worry if ‘and we talked’ would mean you were ending it with him.

He saw you sitting on your luggage outside the airport. He smiled at the sight of you and immediately went out of the car.

It wasn’t easy to not spot Charles as he pulled up in his Ferrari all red attire and his fancy car. You stood up, he hugged you tightly, and you smiled at the familiar feeling. “I missed you so much, amour. Are you okay? How was the flight?”

“I-“ You were cut off as many fans approached you both. Charles was quick to bring you in the car and your luggages and carry ons. A fan asked him to sign a Lightning McQueen shirt and you couldn’t help but laugh, making Charles smile.

The drive wasn’t awkward at all. Charles put on your favorite songs and asked little questions about your time away from him.

You mentioned how you discovered a new restaurant he would love in Nice and should go together.

Charles’ heart sped up at the idea you thought of him in places like restaurants and you wanted to go places with him. It gave him hope your conversation would end positively.

you sat criss crossed on the bed after changing and looked at Charles. “i- I really missed you, Charles” you confessed as he smiled “I missed you more than words can explain it, belle” he replied

no matter how many times you had rehearsed this on the plane, your feelings were confused. you sighed and laid your head on charles’ lap as he stroked your hair.

“i still wanna be with you charles, of course i do. i just… i dont know how to trust you. i need your word charles. you won’t do this to me ever again because it fucking hurts, charles leclerc. It hurts. drunk or not, i need you to control yourself, though i don’t know how you’ll control your drunk self. i cant do this again.”

“again? … i know, amour. i have been making myself better for you while you were away. i am lessening my drinking because i can not live without you. i have not even drank since you left and you are my everything, my priority, even on top of ferrari” he kissed your forehead as you smiled.

“‘kay… i missed you” you said quietly, nuzzling into his sweater. “me too, love” “get rest, you’ll do great tomorrow” “with you by my side, i hope so” he chuckled.

charles knew you wouldn’t just forget about it, so he was determined to prove to you he meant everything he said.

yn.charlesupdate

liked by 13,484 others

yn.charlesupdate PARENTS BACK TOGETHER AT BAKU AIRPORT !!!❤️❤️❤️ view all 1,484 comments

ynslife happy if they worked it out but i really hope yn doesn’t get hurt again:/

gridzfire LFG PADDOCK YN BACK AT IT AGAIN

september 12, 2024

clercspaddock

liked by yn, and 7,585 others

clercspaddock YN AT THE PADDOCK WE WON

view all 262 comments

yn what can i say, i missed u hoes 🤷🏻‍♀️

⤷ clercspaddock More than charles?

⤷ yn you’re as delusional as i used to be if u believe that babes…. but i love u guys 🫀

⤷ clercspaddock hey, i had to shoot my shot

⤷ uryn how did u just casually have a convo w yn

⤷ clercspaddock I DONT KNOW

september 13, 2024

yn’s instagram story:

“ back here ❤️”

viewed by 2,484,484 others

ynnns16

liked by yn, and 2,383 others

ynnns16 yeah maybe he cheated but u cant deny he’s in love with her. it was probably a mistake because look at how he looks when he’s talking abt her:,)

view all 47 comments

september 14, 2023

yn

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, and 2,597,797 others

yn YOUR SILLIEST WAG IS BACK WITH A MAN WITH POLE 🥹

view all 278,484 comments

2024leclercs yn beating the ferrari admin at the pole post 😭

charles_leclerc Je t’aime❤️ je ne peux pas vivre sans toi i love you❤️ i can’t live without you

⤷ yn 😘

⤷ landonorris has charles infected you with that emoji

⤷ yn it started as a joke but im afraid so.

⤷ charles_leclerc What is wrong with it?

fernandoalo_oficial Good to see you again 😊

⤷ yn I LOVE YOU

ynspillow did she just forgive and forget… babes..

⤷ yn againnn, we want to keep this private. but i don’t forget easily

⤷ verstappens3 as u should queen

mclaren You’d look good in orange 🍊

⤷ yn you mean papaya?

⤷ mclaren Whatever works for you! Send the address🧡

⤷ scuderiaferrari Don’t steal our girl🙁

⤷ mclaren Just sent the package of papaya shirts 😘

redbullracing Want to design new shirts for us? ❤️

⤷ yn YES

⤷ scuderiaferrari Excuse us.

⤷ yn you never asked me

⤷ scuderiaferrari Running to Charles about this.

ynsnorris LOL ADMINS FIGHTING OVER YN AND REDBULL JUST ASKS FOR A DESIGN 😭 september 14, 2024

yn’s instagram story:

yn.jpg

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, and 872,584 others

yn.jpg finally get to share my lil gig soon

view all 16,166 comments

charles_leclerc My talented girl ❤️

[ liked by yn.jpg ]

f1 Lets go!!! chickf1lla RED BULL TOO? WHAT

scuderiaferrari ❤️

⤷ ynclaren u guys badly need all the help u can get after that shit show while yn was gone…

⤷ yn.jpg LOLLLL

[COMMENT DELETED!]

yn that wasnt me

september 16, 2024

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 5,584,393 others

yn we’ve been doing this for quite some time so i’m glad i get to share it with everyone now🪷 i had an amazing time doing one of the things i love in one of my favorite places! i worked with f1 and vogue magazine for this one! the “adrenaline on track” issue is out next month🏎️❤️‍🔥🫧

view all 837,594 comments

maxverstappen1 Amazing

⤷ yn thanks max 🐙

landonorris IS THAT ME

⤷ yn dont let it inflate your ego

lewishamilton fire shots 🔥

⤷ yn thankies lewyyyyy

charles_leclerc These are as beautiful as you ❤️

⤷ yn are u calling my shots ugly

⤷ charlando LMAOAOAOA YN STOP

⤷ charles_leclerc What, No! I am saying you are so beautiful and out of this planet, just like these amazing photos!

charsyln yn making charles work for it as she should

voguesf1 fr though. im so happy charles and yn dated/ are dating because yn’s passions and talents are being showed to the world. everyone has talents but im just grateful we get to see her art and see her make a name for herself, not just charles’ gf

⤷ yn youre so kind:( thank you<333

⤷ voguesf1 YOURE SO KIND?? SEE THIS WOMAN IS THE RIGHT WOMAN FOR HIM AND THE WORLD TO KNOW

[liked by charles_leclerc, and 1,585 others]

⤷ stylishts lets just hope he doesn’t fuck this relationship up

[liked by yn]

september 18, 2024

love4wags

liked by 16,383 others

love4wags Yn’s old twitter account has been found and leaked. Most tweets are about F1 and her current boyfriend, Charles. The twitter account has now been deleter.

view all 4,697 comments

user this is disgusting. why are you posting something so personal here?

⤷ user1 well clearly she posted it on social media. she should’ve made her account private

⤷user3 she probably left it public so she’d get attention😂

checosbrazil “I hope the person I marry one day is not like this” ….. Um

tshoehbookss I never knew she had sm trauma…

yn hii pls take this down:)

⤷ ynsloml oh mom:(

september 19, 2024

[ THIS POST HAS BEEN ARCHIVED! ]

ynstree

liked by 5,282 others

ynsloml WHY AM I CRYING OVER A TWEET. view all 1,272 comments

f1stime Well, now we know how old she is… 5 months older than Charles!

fruitsofme notice how she always says “it’s okay” in her tweets…

september 19, 2024

yn

liked by charles_leclerc and, 1,595,393 others

yn yes, i am the type to respond to anything against me while staying unbothered, get used to it.

plssss stop sharing my old tweets! they are embarrassing and old and not up to date with who i am now or how i am. i am the happiest with charles and im in an alright relationship with my parents. i am okay and always have been so! stop! spreading! lies!i worked hard for myself to live the life i live now and im thankful for the opportunities charles has given me.

(i did not at all do this for attention as i forgot about it and thought it was private <i didnt know how to private accounts at the time>)

[COMMENTS ARE DISABLED]

september 19, 2024

ynsodddd

liked by yn, and 6,383 others

ynsodddd why has yn gotten the most shit out of all the wags. what did she ever do to yall😭😭😭 and to the ‘fans’ sharing her old tweets… BFFR!!!! this girl has gone thru sm LEAVE HER ALONE 😭

view all 1,684 comments

user1 fr why is everything just happening to her rn😭 traumatic parents, got cheated on, working with vogue, photographer, can speak like 6/7 languages????

⤷user2 what in the wattpad

⤷author what in the tumblr (;)

september 19, 2024

charles_leclerc

liked by yn, and 7,383,595 others

charles_leclerc Best way to start racing weekend❤️

[COMMENTS ARE DISABLED!]

september 19, 2024

#SOF i ran out of pics for the boarder thing but i may have gotten a little overboard with the drama.

please please share your opinions and lmk if i ruined it 😊

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #formula 1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #social media au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc 16 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #scuderia ferrari #charles lecrelc

[lovingmattysposts]

Mustang

"we'd make out in your mustang to radio head"

"Never thought that one day, i'd be losing you"

pairing: y/n and matt sturniolo

summary: It was hard for you to be back in Boston, because Boston brought back memories you tried so hard to forget. You missed what you had here, you missed who you had here. And he was everywhere and you missed him so bad.

warnings: sooo much fluff but really sad, cursing, sadness, mentions of being turned on?? but thats the only suggestive part

i wrote this literally based on my life because I drive a mustang and love matthew sturniolo so I hope you love it too

xoxo, Autumn

I sighed as I dropped my bag into my old room, before collapsing into the bed.

I hated being home from college, but I also didn't it was a weird divide between my brain. It's filled with great memories, but also sad ones.

It just mainly make me think of the triplets, well mainly Matt. We were all really close in high school, but once I went of to college in MaryLand and they moved to L.A we drifted apart. Well that wasn't the first time.

We started to drift apart when Matt and I broke up. Neither of us took the break up well at all. We were both miserable. Obviously Nick and Chris, wanted to be their for their brother so they weren't there for me as much as I would hope.

Which now looking back it was a absolute insane thing to get angry over, it's their brother, they were going to support him no matter what. But i was young and I was hurt so I took my emotions from the breakup and pushed it on Nick and Chris for not being there for me.

The breakup was mutual, and not in the oh-he-broke-up-with-me-and-im-too-embarrassed-to-admit-it "mutual breakup". No, it was genuinally mutual. We both were in love deeply with one another and neither of us wanted to breakup at all.

One stupid fight over how we were going to work coast-to-coast and that was it. It was weird really. A really weird feeling when one minute you're in love and the next minute one stupid fight and it makes everything change.

We were just two scared teenagers who were too prideful to admit they were scared to lose one another to life. Living without Matt was a hard thing to grasp, because I never thought there would be a time where we weren't together.

I guess I got over it or at least tried to when I went off to college. I went on dates, kissed a few boys, even hooked up with one. But there was always a voice in the back of my head screaming "they aren't Matt"

It was weird kind of breakup. After the final goodbye that night, we never spoke again. Even living in the same city for three months after that until I went of to college and he moved to LA, we didn't speak once. And we hadn't in three years.

I forced myself not to check what he was doing, literally throwing my phone across my dorm room, just so I wouldn't check. It was hard since his entire life was online. Mine wasn't. It was easy for him to forget. It wasn't for me.

It really is hard to remember what their lips feel like when you kiss them for the last time and don't even know it.

Even three years after the breakup, every time I come to Boston I think of him. There were picture of him and I still plastered on my photo wall in my bedroom, I still haven't gotten the courage to take them down. I still had one of his shirts that was tucked away in my "stay home clothes" and I haven't taken it out since.

I especially think of him when I'm driving around in my Mustang. Since I didn't register it to my college, I left it at home along with all of the memories inside of it that I think of every time I get behind the wheel of that damn Mustang.

I just needed to go on a drive. To clear my head and to get my mind off my high school boyfriend. I stood up walking out of my brother and mumbling a quick bye to my parents and walking outside to the cold air.

I took my keys out of my sweatshirt and unlocked the car, pulling on the handle but pausing as I felt a memory wash over me.

-

"Matt" I giggled trying to push him off of me. He smiled against my neck and attempted to pin my arms down. "Whattt?" He smiled as his lips attached to my neck and then up to my face, kissing me softly.

I put my hands on his face as we kissed slowly, before pushing him back slightly. He was fully leaned over the entire middle consul, on top of me.

"Matt we have to go inside" I smiled looking at my boyfriend as he smiled stupidly at me, looking only down at my lips as I spoke. "Hmm hm" He hummed finally looking up at my eyes, his eyelids hooded. I don't know if it was from how early it was or from the kiss.

"Did you hear a word I said?" I giggled. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. "Nope" He smiled against my lips catching mine in a kiss again. I smiled as we kissed, as if it were the first time we had ever kissed. Butterflies filling my stomach as he rubbed his thumb back and forth against me, as we kissed.

I knew really believed in love before I met Matthew Sturniolo. I thought the books were stupid, the movies were unrealistic, and the couples in love around us were just going to end up hurt or cheated on. Because that was all I had ever known, that was before a blue eyes lacrosse player passed me in the hallway and we made eye-contact for a little too long.

I never believed in love at first sight either until that day. I thought it was cheesy, and terribly inaccurate, but something inside of me told me that boy would be in my life for a longgg time.

He pulled away from the kiss and brought his hands up to my face, rubbing his thumbs back and forth against my cheeks smiling down at me in adoration.

I never saw myself as a romantic either. Kind of kept to myself, was sarcastic and thought I would die before talking to a man in a baby voice, and a part of me thinks everyone thinks that way before they find their first love. Well in this case, the love of my life. There wouldn't be a minute for the rest of my life where I didn't love Matt.

"I love you" He whispered, leaning down and kissing my nose, making me giggle. He sighed leaning down against my shoulder and running his hand over my steering wheel. "And I love your car" he sighed, making me roll my eyes. "Sometimes I feel like you only like me for my car" I joked making him lift his head and furrow his eyebrows.

"What no, you're the love of my life. The car is just a plus to dating you" He said shaking his head. It was embarrassing the effect his words had on my physical being. I blushed, making him smile.

"I like when I make you blush" He smiled leaning down and kissing me again. The other plus to dating Matt, other than simply everything about him, was his lips. Oh my God, his lips. They were perfect and boy did that boy know how to kiss.

I honestly didn't know kissing someone was suppose to be enjoyable before kissing him. I could fall asleep kissing him. If my lips could be on his ever second of everyday, they would be. He quite literally changed my world.

He slipped his tongue into my mouth, making me hum against him deepening the kiss. He smiled as he kissed me harder. There was a hard knock against my window, causing Matt to jump off of me, due to the loud noise. He looked behind me, since my back was against the door. He sighed and sat back in the passenger seat.

I turned around seeing his brothers standing next to my car. I rolled down the window and they both leaned down poking their heads into the car.

"Jesus do you two ever come up for air?" Chris said looking between us making me smile and look down at my lap. "Seriously the whole school yard just saw you two suffocating each other with your mouths" Nick shook his head. Matt laughed and shook his head, looking over at me.

"I'm getting your windows tinted for Christmas" He said shaking his head. I rolled my eyes and turned back to Nick and Chris. "Do you guys need something?" I asked looking between two of my best friends. "Yeah dumbass, School's about to start" Chris said motioning to everyone walking inside.

"But it's coldd outside, and it's so warm in here" I sighed, leaning towards Matt. Matt pouted looking at his brothers and wrapped his arms around me.

"If you miss another class, you're benched at the next game Matthew" his brother said unimpressed. Matt sighed letting me go. I leaned back up in my seat.

I looked over to Matt who looked at me and then to his brothers. "Yeah yeah, just give us a minute" He said leaning over and starting to roll up the window, making me shake my head.

"You two are gross!" Nick yelled as he walked away. "Her lips will still be there after first period Matt!" Chris yelled as the window close. I laughed and shook my head, before Matt turned my head capturing my lips in his again. I fell into the kiss again so easily before pushing him slightly.

"Matt, we have to go. I can't miss first period again" I sighed as I looked into his blue eyes. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Fine" He breathed leaning back over, grabbing his bag off the floor in front of me. I giggled at his frustrated demeanour.

"Wait" I smiled making him look up as I reached over grabbing his shirt connecting our lips again. He smiled against me as he dropped his bag again, bringing his hand up to cup my face again. I pulled away as he kissed me deeper.

"Okay, Okay, we have to go" I said shaking my head, trying to shake the redness in my face. I turned off the car and grabbed my keys.

"Wait, we have to wait a second" He breathed making me glance over at him as he groaned leaning his head back against the chair, attempting to adjust his shorts. I looked down noticing the tent in his pants.

I rolled my eyes. "Seriously?" I said raising my eyebrows. He glanced over at me, smirking. "I can't help what you do to be y/n" he laughed. I shook my head smiling and looked out the window.

He was going to be the death of me.

-

I shook my head, dropping my smile at the memory and climbed into my car, turning it on and immediatley turning on the heat to wipe away the goosebumps on my legs.

I sighed as I pulled out of my house and pulled out onto the road. Clear my head. Just clear my head. But everything about this car screamed Matt.

I looked over at the empty passenger seat and sighed. Physically seeing Matt there in my mind, but he wasn't. He was thousands of miles away not thinking about me.

As i drove around my empty town, playing song after song trying to make myself feel better, made it worse. I felt pathetic. Thinking about my ex-boyfriend of three years ago, wasn't good. Why was I still thinking about him.

I tried to convince myself it was just because I was here in Boston, in this car, but another part of my brain reminded me that I promised to him and to myself that I would always love him. I hated myself because I stuck to my word. That's why I didn't reach out after the breakup, because I said that if was better if we both just tried to move on. That we had to move on and we wouldn't if we were still in contact.

It's when he agreed to it was when the reality of my words set into me like a ton of bricks. The amount of times I wanted to show up at his front door step, telling him I was wrong. That I couldn't live without him. That we were stupid for ever thinking our breakup was what we both needed. But I never did, and he never showed up at my door either.

I guess a part of me moved on, or maybe my brain just convinced me that I did. I don't feel like I did, because there was never another Matt. All these boys i've met, it was hard to even picture them to be the same species as Matthew Sturniolo, because they were cold, hard, mean, assholes. Matt was sweet, kind, loving, and tender hearted. To put them in the same category as him would just be an insult to Matt.

So I waited until someone like Matthew Sturniolo came along. I've waited three years and I've not met one other soul like him. It wasn't fair.

I sighed. I needed to go home, take a hot shower, and stop torturing myself. I pulled around, driving back towards my house, trying to erase every single thing i've thought about on this long miserable drive. Once I stepped out of this car, I wasn't going to think about him again.

I was going to turn off this car and open the door and leave all my feelings and hopes for Matt inside of it because It wasn't fair to myself. I needed to let go.

I turned into my neighborhood and pulled up to my driveway, driving in. I parked the car and took a deep breathe, rubbing my hands over my face. I sighed, turning off the car and opening the door.

If it was meant to be it will be, at least that's what the poets say. But then again aren't all poets just people writing about what they think love is? Not the actual reality of it? They don't write about the breakups or the hard times, they talk about the falling. The feeling of being in love. Something so strong it could kill a person, that part I guess now I believed to be true. So maybe all poets are idiots.

I swallowed shaking my thoughts before opening my door and stepping out before looking back inside, and taking a deep breath closing my eyes before I shut it finally.

That was it. Now those were just memories. That's all they can be and thats all i'll allow them to be. From here on out I wasn't going to tourtue myself. From here on out not one more thought would cross my brain thinking about-

I froze.

"Matt?"

Standing there.

Right there.

In front of me.

My feet froze.

He stood tall in front of me, black hoodie, black pants and small scruff lining his jawline. His eyes as blue as ever and his hair still as floppy as I remembered, just a little longer. I blinked, frozen in time. My heart was beating so fast I thought I would have collaspted right then and there.

"Y/n" He spoke finally. My lips parted slightly as I stood in front of the boy that I loved all those years ago. The boy I just spent the last hour killing my mind over.

He licked his lips looking down at me with an expression I couldn't understand. "W-What are you doing here?" I breathed, barley blinking staring up at him. He let out a breath as he looked at me pulling his hands out of the pockets of his sweatshirt.

"I-I was in town and I-" I stopped as he looked down at me. I stared up at him waiting for his explanation. "I don't know I just kind of came over here. I didn't really have a plan. I don't know what to say, but I just started walking and I ended up here" He breathed, seeing his breath come out in a vapor in the coldness of the air around us. Making it real. He was there.

I blinked at him. I opened my mouth to say something but closed it, not knowing what to say. I honestly wanted to look up at the sky and wish for a million dollars and see if that would come walking up to my house too. But no. This was more of a shock than if that happened.

"I know-" He shook his head. "I know this is probably a lot for you, and I can leave if you don't want to see me and I know that showing up here after three years is so shitty so I understand if-" He spoke but I cut him off stepping forward and wrapping my arms around his torso, leaning my head against his chest, holding him tightly. This was real.

I let out a breath for what felt like the first time in three years. He paused for a second, suprized from the sudden embrace, before wrapping his arms around me just as tightly, leaning his head against the top of mine. I closed my eyes thinking If i ever let go he would dissapear and I would wake up from my dream.

"Matt" I breathed again. He let out a deep breath. "Y/n" He stated again. We sat there for a long time, just holding each other like speaking three years worth of words, without actually talking.

I pulled back looking up at him. He smiled down at me, tears in his eyes and tears in mine.

"How's LA?" I smiled, my eyes full of tears. He chuckled hanging his head breifly before looking back up at me. "It's not Boston" He shook his head. I chuckled, wiping the bottom of my eyes. I nodded just smiling up at him.

"I missed you" He shook his head, biting his lips as it quivered due to the tears threatening to spill. I shook my head looking down as I let out a breath. I leaned up wiping his tears with my thumb.

"I missed you sweet boy" I whispered as a tear ran down my face. He reached up, wiping it. I swallowed.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" He whispered smiling through his tears. I laughed handing my head before shaking it. He smiled. "Thank God" He breathed before leaning down and kissing me passionatly. I smiled as we kissed, tasting the tears between us.

He reached down wrapping his hands under my waist pulling our bodies together as I held his face in my hands. I couldn't believe this was real. His lips were exactly how I remembered, as If not a single day had passed between us.

I pulled back, but didn't move away from him, as I looked into his eyes, soothing his cheek.

"I miss you too" I breathed, he smiled. I laughed through my tears, leaning my head against his chest. He wrapped his arms tighter around me and we sat there.

All of the sudden a car came racing up to my house, before slamming on the breaks. I looked up at Matt, who sighed closing his eyes. I turned as I heard the slamming of car doors.

Nick and Chris emerged from the car before sighing when they saw us. Matt's grip didn't loosen on me, like if he let go he'd be afraid I would run away. Little did he know I wasn't moving away from him even if he pushed me off of him.

"Matt you scared the shit out of us" Chris shook his head as he walked up to us. I looked up at Matt, who didn't look fazed by his brothers whatsoever. I looked back seeing Nick coming around the otherside of the car.

"Thank God you're okay" Chris said making it up to us. Nick walked over. "You can't just take off and not tell us where you're going without your phone" Nick shook his head.

"Guys i'm fine" Matt reassured them. He looked down at me. "I'm better than fine" He whispered looking down at me in his arms. I smiled up at him.

"We thought you'd be here" Nick sighed looking over at us. I smiled looking over at Nick and Chris. They looked like them, but older. Kind of like Matt. Chris's hair was longer and Nick was blonde.

I smiled leaning my head against Matt, both of our arms still wrapped in one another. Nick sighed shaking his head.

"Alright, you guys will still be alive when you let go. Now y/n come over here and give me a hug" Nick smiled. I looked up at Matt smiling before finally dropping my arms and walking over to Nick, hugging him. He sighed against me.

"Missed you" He mumbled. "I miss you guys so much" I said looking over to Chris before opening my arms in offer for him to join the hug. He rolled his eyes smiling before joining Nick and I.

"Missed you kid" He mumbled squeezing us.

"Alright. Alright, get off her" Matt said walking up to us, before pulling me against him again. I laughed and shook my head at him. Still now, he only wanted me to himself and I could have melted.

"Will you come home now? Mom hasn't seen you yet" Chris shook his head. Matt let out a breath before looking down at me. I smiled up at him.

"Yeah, but there's something we have to do first" He explained looking up at his brothers. I furrowed my eyebrows looking at Matt. He looked towards the car.

"Can we go for a drive?"

I looked over at my mustang before smiling up at him. "Please?" I said letting out a breath. He smiled, leaning down and kissing my forehead. He grabbed my hand as he pulled me towards the car.

WOW I LITERALLY CRIED MULTIPLE TIMES WHILE WRITING THIS. hope you guys did too🥹

tag list: @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @miastromboli @secret-sturniolo @sturnsclutter @sturniolodreamz @ejswift @paper-crab @mwah0mwah @ghostgurlswrld @kitaysworld @meg-sturniolo @nickmillersn1gf @fr3shl0ve @adrianaturnedpretty @jjslovely

#chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #Spotify

[corroded-hellfire]

Passing Through - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Being the new kid in a small town like Hawkins is tough. One late October day though, you meet Eddie, and he’s always looking out for those lost sheep.

Note: Happy Halloween 🎃

Words: 2.8k

In the great game of life, you have been given a shitty hand of cards to play this round. Starting at a new high school for junior year is an agonizing yet hazy experience. You have to start over in a place where cliques have already formed, and most people have known each other since kindergarten. The best shot you have at making friends is praying there are souls kind enough to include you in their group. Or maybe there are other pariahs you could collect along the way and have your own island of misfit toys.

On the other hand, even if this experience is completely horrible, it’s only a short two years that you have to endure it. It will feel like a lifetime, but maybe you could keep your head down and push through. 

School has been in session for about two months now. The leaves are changing to the browns, reds, and yellows that always accompany the smell of fireplaces burning for the first time in months and the sickly sweet scent of apple and pumpkin permeating everything. 

Late October is always a nice chance to wear comfy sweaters and cute scarves, bundling up as you take in the views of this time of year. Jack-o-lanterns litter the sidewalks, a few even placed around the high school campus. Children laughing and jumping in any pile of leaves that would permit them to make a mess. The outside aesthetic clashes with the churning, icy storm inside of you. 

There are a few people you’ve met that you’d consider friends, yet not anyone you feel you can confide in about how alien you feel around the other teens of this small town. 

Of course, there are mean girls everywhere and they never miss a chance to pounce on fresh meat. You’ve lost count of the things you heard said about you, but some of them even made you laugh. You wish you were cool enough to be here because your family is on the run. At least it would be something exciting. It’s also better than the other rumor that you taxidermy animals in your basement and now you’re looking for people to practice on. Someone obviously watched Psycho the night before they came up with that one.

Once in a while you’ve tried to sit with some of the friends you made at lunch, but you always felt out of place. You decided to start exploring the school during your lunch period instead. Sometimes you’d have your sandwich on the bleachers in the gym or have your cup of noodles under the large oak tree next to the science building. 

Today, there’s a gentle breeze and, bundled up in your soft brown sweater, you decide to perch yourself on the short wall in front of the school. You settle yourself on the sun-faded bricks and open your lunch on your lap. Students go by, some of them in a hurry, some of them looking like they’d rather be anywhere else. It’s nice to people watch; sometimes it makes you feel less alone. You take a bite out of your peanut butter sandwich and let your eyes slip closed. The wind ruffles your sweater and brings a smile to your face as it kisses your skin. When you open your eyes, you’re greeted by a scene of two basketball players seeing who can burp the loudest. 

With a sigh you take another bite of your sandwich. Is there anyone at this school that will just get you?

As the thought crosses your mind, you feel a heavy weight plop down next to you on the wall. You turn your head and see the cutest guy you’ve seen yet in Hawkins. His curly hair is frizzy, but in the most endearing of ways. The brown of his eyes perfectly matches the atmosphere of autumn around you. But it’s his smile that has your heart racing. It’s big, bright, and most important of all, it’s genuine. 

“Ah, I can spy a fellow Hawkins outcast when I see one.”

Warmth burns your cheeks simply by making eye contact and having this man speak to you. The air around you might be getting cooler, but your body is heating up. It makes sense; he’s really cute. 

“Uh, yeah, I guess that’s me.”

“New kid?” He leans back and narrows his eyes slightly, as if he’s appraising you, but in a joking manner.

“As I’ll probably be referred to until I graduate, yes,” you admit with a breathy chuckle. He laughs in return, and it sounds like music, the melody of it being swept away by the breeze. 

“I was known as the ‘freak’ to most people. You’d think ‘Eddie’ was merely a suggestion of what to call me, not my actual goddamn name,” he says with an overdramatic shrug of his shoulders. “Didn’t really bother me after a while.”

“I wish I didn’t let things get to me as much as they do,” you admit. Why? You’re not sure. Maybe because this is the first person in Hawkins that seems to be interested in what you have to say. Eddie smiles and shakes his head, eyes turning down to gaze at his lap. 

“The assholes aren’t worth it.” Eddie waves a dismissive hand in the air, multiple chunky rings glinting in the afternoon sunlight. “But trust me, you find the right friends, and everything will be smooth sailing. They’ll have your back, and you’ll have theirs—none of the other shit matters.”

“You’re pretty wise, Eddie.”

“Don’t know if I’ve ever been called that before,” he tells you through a guffaw of laughter. 

“Well, it’s fitting,” you say. 

“Eddie the Wise,” he tries out the name, but wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “Nah, doesn’t work.”

“I like your pick necklace,” you say, just trying to keep talking and have Eddie here for as long as you can. 

“Huh?” He looks down at it. “Oh, thanks. You like music? Good music, I should say. Because I’ve got the all-time best band right here.”

Eddie shrugs off his denim vest layered over a leather jacket, your eyes trailing every movement his body makes. Bare, pale arms come into view once he’s finally rid himself of the article of clothing. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the dark ink that contrasts against his alabaster skin. A small colony of bats taking flight. 

“Ta-da,” Eddie says, presenting his Metallica t-shirt to you and bringing you back to reality.

“Not bad, not bad,” you acquiesce, once you’ve refocused.

Eddie just grins and puts his layers of clothing back on. 

A couple of cheerleaders walk by and look you up and down, trying to be as obvious as possible about it. Because they know it will get even more under your skin, they lower their heads and start whispering together.

Eddie gives them a saccharine smile and flips them off as they go by. It makes you giggle, and it brings you satisfaction that those girls didn’t rob you of your happy afternoon. 

“Take it from me,” Eddie says with a sigh. “You’re gonna be just fine here in Hawkins. This school is a shit show, but it has its bright spots. Friends mostly. Clubs—you should look into those for sure. Some teachers aren’t half bad either. Take Mr. H. He’s a bit of a smartass, but he’s a good guy.”

“Yeah, I have him for physics and he’s great.”

The corners of Eddie’s mouth quirk up in a smirk and he pushes himself off the wall.

“Well, as much as I’d love to stay and chat with you—and seriously, I really wish I could—I’m not even supposed to be here right now.”

“Oh, you don’t have this lunch period?” you ask.

“Nah,” Eddie says as he slides his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “I’m supposed to be somewhere, doing something, I don’t know.” Eddie’s lackadaisical nature makes you giggle. “But I saw a pretty girl sitting here all by herself and I took a detour.”

His words make you feel flushed and flustered, unable to come up with anything to say in response. Eddie goes to walk away but turns back and gives you a smile; almost as bright as the very first one he gave you. 

“Everything’s gonna be alright. This is your year. I can feel it.” He offers you a quick wink then he’s on his way.

The bell rings, breaking you out of your daze watching Eddie walk away. You hasten to clean up from your lunch so you can make it on time to your French class on the other side of campus. 

When you’ve got everything situated and ready to get to class, you look around but there’s no sign of Eddie. No curly hair, no dark delicious eyes, nothing. 

In class, it’s a fight not to tap your pencil against your desk incessantly. You’re itching to ask someone, anyone, if they know Eddie and where you can find him. At this moment more than ever you wish you’d made better friends here already. 

Screw it, you think as the bell rings to signal the end of the class. I’ve got to ask about him. 

“Mrs. Daaé?” 

Your petite French teacher gives you a kind smile. “Yes, dear?” 

“Do you know a student named Eddie?” You feel so stupid asking this; asking a teacher if she knows anything about the cute boy who came and talked to you.

Mrs. Daaé thinks for a moment, her long mauve fingernails tapping against the top of her desk.

“I don’t believe I do,” she says with a sympathetic smile. When you’re the new kid you get used to people giving you that look very quickly. 

“That’s okay,” you say, eager to be out of there. “Thank you anyway.”

It’s the same answer from everyone you talk to. The few friends you’ve made, people who sit near you in class, even your teachers. No one seems to know who this guy is or have any idea what you’re talking about. 

By the time you get to your last class of the day, you’re half convinced that you’re crazy. Gone mad, absolutely bonkers. 

Physics isn’t your favorite class, but it does have your favorite teacher, so that’s something. 

You pay enough attention to get by, but your mind constantly wanders back to the only person to make you feel welcome in this town. 

The sound of your name jars you out of your thoughts. You look up and realize the last students from your class are walking out the door. Now that you think about it, you did hear the final bell ring, it just didn’t register. 

“Sorry,” you say, but you’re not sure who to. Your teacher who snapped you out of your daze? The students you’ve been bombarding with questions today?  

Maybe you should ask this teacher. It’s the last one of the day, you might as well. But you also don’t want to look like an idiot again. 

“Something I can help you with?” The soft voice and kind smile shake you out of your thoughts. You’re the only student left in the room.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry,” you repeat the apology. As you step out the door, you change your mind, remembering Eddie referenced “Mr. H.” Taking a deep breath, you turn around and walk back into the classroom. “A-Actually… Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“I talked with this guy today, outside while I was eating my lunch. He was really nice—nicer than any of the other kids have been since I came here, honestly. But when I’ve asked around about him, no one knows who he is. He seemed to know you, though.”

Your teacher’s eyebrows furrow together, and he sits down in his chair behind the desk. “What’s his name?”

“Eddie.”

He shakes his head as he thinks. “I don’t know if we even have an Eddie in this school. We’ve got Ed Sweeney, the football coach. But I doubt it was him.”

“No,” you say with a disappointed, but not surprised, sigh. It’s the same answer you’ve been getting all day. “This was definitely a student. Curly hair down to his shoulders. Big, infectious smile, a dark red pick on a chain around his neck…”

Your teacher’s eyes widen exponentially, and you must give him an odd look without realizing it because he quickly composes himself and clears his throat. 

“Did he, um, have any tattoos?” the teacher asks. 

“Yeah!” You get excited, this being the first real hint of someone knowing what you’re talking about. “He had a bunch of bats—”

“On his right forearm?”

“Yes! That’s him!”

Your teacher slumps back in his seat and rubs his hand over his eyebrows.

“Holy shit,” he mutters under his breath. You’re surprised to hear that kind of talk from a teacher; you’re not even sure if you were meant to hear it or not. 

“Is everything okay?” you ask timidly.

A grin from ear to ear looks back up at you and your teacher leans forward on his desk, resting on his elbows. 

“You talked to him today?”

“Yes. I don’t understand, what’s–”

Before you can finish your question, he’s shuffling in his pocket and pulling out his phone. Frantically, he starts to look for something on it, obviously searching for something he deems as important as his fingers tap against the screen. Evidently, he finds what he’s looking for because his search comes to an end, and he takes a deep breath. The phone clacks down gently onto the wood of the desk and he slides it in your direction.

“Was this him?”

You take a few steps closer to the desk and peer down at the screen. Looking back at you is Eddie, tongue sticking out and hand held up in devil’s horns, standing beside your teacher–only much, much younger.

“W-What is this?”

“Is this him?” His voice is firm, but not aggressive.

“Yes, but I’m confused.” If you thought your brain was already jumbled up from no one knowing who you were talking about today, now it feels like it was put in a blender and puréed. 

“This is unbelievable,” your teacher mumbles, a smile starting to appear on his face once again. “Still taking care of lost sheep, huh?” The question is obviously not directed at you.

Confusion is starting to turn to irritation, and it isn’t like your favorite teacher to not answer your questions. He’s always willing to explain things as many times as needed in class.

“Mr. Henderson, what’s going on?”

The initial response is a chuckle and shake of his head, clearly amused by something.

“Eddie Munson. He, uh, used to go here.”

“Did he graduate?” You try to hide the pang of disappointment in your voice that he isn’t a fellow student anymore. 

The smile on Mr. Henderson’s face turns melancholic.

“Yeah. Yeah, he graduated.” Your teacher is clearly lost in a memory, and you can’t tell by his expression if it’s a happy one or a sad one. 

Now you can’t help but feel a little petty and whiney about the one person who seemed to understand you not being around. In spite of yourself, you frown and cross your arms over your chest.

“Why was he here?” you can’t help but ask, poking the bruise.

Mr. Henderson seems stumped by this question at first. He thinks for a silent moment, then his eyes spark as if something just came to him.

“Probably here to give me a message.” He doesn’t elaborate on that before looking back up at you. “Eddie doesn’t…live around here anymore. He was probably just passing through.”

“Somehow he could tell I was the new kid,” you say with a slightly embarrassed shrug—as if being the new kid is something people can smell on you.

“Yeah, Eddie always had a knack for finding new kids. Even kids who’ve been here for years but didn’t have many friends.”

“He definitely came to the right person then,” you admit sadly. In front of anyone else you would feel stupid speaking these thoughts out loud, but Mr. Henderson has seemed like a safe place ever since you arrived at Hawkins High. 

The man tilts his head and gives you a look of understanding—but not sympathy, like everyone else.

“Making friends can be hard. I was lucky I had friends coming into this school with me. Even so, I’m glad that Ed—uh, this upperclassman took me under his wing. Made a world of difference. Joined a club and made tons of new friends.”

The words spark a memory from your earlier conversation.

“Eddie mentioned that, actually. That I should join a club or something.”

Mr. Henderson chuckles softly to himself and mumbles of course he did under his breath. You’re not sure what’s so funny but it seems impolite to ask.

“I think that’s a great idea,” he says. He stands up from his chair and narrows his eyes. “I think I have a pretty good recommendation, too. Tell me, do you know anything about Dungeons and Dragons?”

#Eddie Munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

You don’t get to tell me about sad

Previous chapter

a/n part two! Thank you for everyone who read the first one. So glad some of you liked it so much. 🫧🤍

summary: Azriel gets an assignment he can’t seem to decline. Now he has a princess full of attitude under his protection. The only question is whose cold heart will break first.

warning: past trauma, scars

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“No threats, nothing," Azriel dropped the report down on the table. Rhys had been the one to go meet with Autumn’s high lord. Bringing back the reports of everything that had been happening the past three days. “Eris said that everyone still thinks she’s there," Rhys stated. They planned on spinning a lie about you visiting an old relative, but it was better if the people who had inflicted the first attack would be misled about your true location.

“This could have been a one-time thing," Cassian hums, flipping through the report himself. “Or someone is waiting for the right moment," Rhys links his fingers together, resting his chin on them. “Why her?”, Cassian frowns. Yeah, Azriel asked that too at first. You didn’t seem to be magically gifted. There was nothing special about you, as far as he was aware. “Eris said she’s a weak link," the spymaster muttered.

“They’re close? That would explain things," and Cassian was right there. Love might be the worst weapon to have. Once, it slipped into the wrong hands. Azriel let out a sigh.

“Considering how he delivered the news, he loves her a lot. I believe, besides Lucien, she’s the closest to him." If he was being truthful, he hadn’t given it much thought. Here in Velaris, he could leave you on your own devices for the most part, at least. He didn’t need to trail after you. There was no need. Azriel had eyes almost everywhere.

“We’ll figure something out. I will ask around to see if something is stirring." Rhys leans back, his eyes now fixed on Azriel, “How are you?”. Azriel tries to hold back to not roll his eyes. “I’ve been fine for two weeks ago." And he was. Yes, his left side still hurt. The scar was deep and rather long. Rapping around his ribcage. Not to mention that he had pulled the stitches out way too many times. “Don’t start this," Rhys says bluntly.

“I could be up at the camps doing what I do best," Azriel points out. Itching to pick this topic back up. “Dying in the snow?"—that was a straight blow from his brother. Rhys hadn’t been able to say it out loud for the first couple of weeks. The thought of Azriel dying had messed with his head. “I said no, so it’s a no. Plus, you have a new responsibility," Rhys states firmly, and Azriel knows that there is no use in nagging him any further. “Counting days till she’s out of my sight," he mutters beneath his breath, standing up to leave. He just forgot to mean the words he spoke.

Velaris was different from what you had imagined it to be. In a good way, but it still wasn’t home. The ever-green trees almost bugged you. It was all too alive. Too bright. You missed the deep oranges. The crunching of the leaves beneath your feet. Rhys tried to be a caring host by giving you an autumn-themed room, but that only left a bitter taste in your mouth. So even if you had been advised by their healer to keep all weight off your swollen ankle for a while, you still found yourself, pulling away the decorations and shoving away the autumn theme blankets, the little trinkets.

You tried to keep out of everyone’s hair. Choosing to take your food into your room. But the four walls were starting to drive you mad. You had tasted freedom, and you didn’t want to be back there. Locked up. Hidden. Forgotten. So when your eyes landed on the two males sparing in the front yard, you, of course, first observed them from your window. Watching through the curtains and then pushing back.

“You should be resting your leg," Azriel hadn’t even turned to face you when his voice found you. A slight smirk tugging at your lips. He had been avoiding you. Or maybe you were too full of yourself. Maybe he was just busy. There was no requirement for him to be at your side twenty-four-seven.

“You’re a shit bodyguard if you didn’t know that I've been doing just that for the past three days," you muse, stepping closer to the racks of weapons that line their training ground. Fingers l brushing over a set of onyx black daggers. “Madja said at least a couple of weeks," Azriel points out, reaching to rewrap his knuckles. “And I said that I'm bored, and now we are here," you purr, lifting one of the daggers, feeling out the weight as you twist your wrist. You could feel Azriel’s eyes. Watching you. Following your every move.

“Or you just wanted a closer look at this“, the male next to him, who you had come to learn was Cassian, smirks, gesturing to his bare chest. Abs glistening with sweat. Yeah, the view wasn’t bad. Autumn males, at least the ones you know, didn’t compare. “And I thought this one was full of himself." You hooked your thumb at Azriel, rolling your eyes.

He shakes his head, “Would it hurt you to say my name?”, "Yes, Mr. Tree, trunk up my ass." You give him the most obnoxious smile you could master. Earning a deep growl from the spymaster in return. Until your eyes landed on the wooden bow, neatly placed on the ground by the buckets of water. “I want to shoot arrows," you mutter, pointing to the weapon, making Azriel’s gaze follow suit.

He let out a small snort, “Have you ever held a bow in your delicate hands?”. That prick. You narrowed your eyes at him. "Oh, news flash, he is also a sexist,” you hiss. Rounding his side to reach for the arrows. “I just don’t want you falling and tripping once again, princess," he teases in an almost mocking tone. You step closer to him. You doubt that he finds you intimidating, considering that you need to look up to even meet his gaze. But your face stays ice cold as you point to the bow, “Give it to me." He doesn’t move at first. As if on purpose. Giving you extra time to look at him. His face. There is a light scar over his right eyebrow. It’s not all that visible. Unless you take your time to… but, your little daydream is cut short by a bow being shoved at your chest. You nearly lose your footing. And just like that, you are snapped out of your daze.

“Don’t start crying when you miss," Azriel says, too full of himself as always. Leaning on the side beam like a smug, fucking cat. Too bad you grew up among five arrogant males. Six if you include that sadist of a father. That’s enough for the amber to catch fire deep within your chest. You line the arrow up. Taking a deep breath. Eyes falling to the target at the edge of the field ahead. And then it’s muscle memory as you let it loose. The first one hit the bull's eye. A satisfied smile speeds on your face as you reach for the second and third. You’re petty like that. Not in the mood to give Azriel a chance to call it fool’s luck.

A loud chuckle fills your ears, and then someone is nudging your shoulder. “She handed you your ass on a silver plate, brother." Cassian’s laughter booms, and you can’t help but match his grin. “Choke on the dust," you muse, flipping him off as you twist away from him. But Azriel is quick as always, grasping your elbow as he spin you back. “Know your place," he says through gritted teeth. Nostrils flaring.

“Maybe you should show me my place," you mutter, crossing an x on his chest. You yank your hand from his grip, glancing at Cassian, “Put the dog on the leash." Azriel curses, making Cassian snort, before the general starts barking, moving to the side to tackle his brother. You shake your head, continuing to walk away. Only catching a faint warning from Azriel, “Don’t fucking encourage it.”

Azriel chose to leave you alone for the rest of the day. Yet he could deny it all he wanted, but the shots were clean. Not to mention that he was almost relieved that you had left your room. A burden or not, he didn’t want you just rotting between the four walls. So he’s not all that surprised when your figure steps out onto the balcony. A lantern in your hand. One that you carefully place on the ledge before placing your hand on the stones. Stepping on your tiptoes, leaning to look over the edge.

"Snooping", the sudden sound of his voice makes you jump, your elbow hitting the lantern and pushing it over the edge. “You’re insane. Absolute sociopath," you gasp, hand on your chest as you try to wipe the threat from your face.

“You’re pathetic if that made you scared," Azriel shrugs, stepping out for the shadows. It wasn’t pathetic. He knew that. If he didn’t want to be seen, no one would see him. So blaming this on you was lame, but he could excuse it. For now. “You’re a creep," you hiss, leaning over the edge to look for the broken glass, now scattered on the ground. “Who sits in the dark like that?”, you ask, shaking your head and pulling your ginger hair over to one side. Fidgeting with the ends. That’s a new habit, Azriel thinks to himself, one he hadn’t yet observed.

You just shake your head once you don’t receive an answer from him. Eyes darting up the sky. It’s almost pitch black. The last traces of orange and deep purple are coloring the very edges of the horizon. “The sky is beautiful here as well," you breathe out. Not sure why. It felt stupid to get sentimental with that crazy man behind you. “It is," Azriel admits, forcing his eyes from your frame to lift to the sky. But the stars only manage to hold his attention for so long. Before they glance right back down at you, Azriel can’t tell from your face, but he feels the wave of sadness crashing into his chest.

And not even a heartbeat later you speak up again. “I usually take walks with the dogs in the evening, so... old habits die hard. I feel the itch." It’s an almost bitter chuckle that slips past your lips as you speak. Azriel walks close to the railing. “I feel the same if I don’t get to work late at night," he’s not sure why he’s even saying that. Admitting something that you don’t need to know. Or probably care to know. Your nose screeches up. “That’s a weird thing to like," you mutter. Azriel rolls his eyes, “Stomping through the woods isn’t any better.”

The breeze picks up. Chasing the last bits of warmth away. Making you wrap your arms around yourself tighter, but you don’t step back. Don’t move to head inside. “So, you’re a working late and sleep-in type of guy," you mutter. Azriel realizes it then. You’re here because you don’t want to be alone. Force-pushing the conversation to keep someone else in your company. Flashes of the basement flicker through his mind.

“No, I wake up early," he answers, a heartbeat too late, and yet you’re still nodding along. “So, no sleep type of guy," you mutter beneath your breath. The darkness is now fully draping over you two. Hiding you both from the world. “And you’re a talk just to listen to yourself speak type of girl," Azriel points out, making you huff. “And here, I thought we were having a moment." He watches as you turn around, shaking your head. “Jumping to conclusions kind of girl too," he says firmly, and this time it’s enough to drag a little chuckle from your lips as your head falls back ever so slightly.

But the distant pain doesn’t leave your eyes when you glance back at him. “Did Eris say anything by any chance?”, you mutter. A part of Azriel considers lying. Twisting the truth. A white lie. But he can’t bring himself to. Too many people were already keeping you in the dark, so he mutters a quiet, "No." Watching as you nod way too eagerly at his answer, “Of course, delighted to get rid of the troublemaker," there was that pained smile at the end as you finally chose to spread the distance between you two. “Lucien is coming tomorrow, though," Azriel points out, your tense shoulders easing ever so slightly. You don’t say anything as you reach for the glass door.

“Are you going to sleep?”, Azriel asks, almost cringing himself out. What was this sound of desperation? He didn’t fucking care what you did. “Not yet. I will walk in the garden for a bit." You gesture to the fields wrapping around the house. Azriel nods firmly, “Keep to the upper parts; don’t go past the rose garden if you get by the white... ”, “Okay, okay, mother... Tie me to your chair and watch me wilt away while you’re at it," you huff, your lips thinning into a tight line. “I’ll finish some work and come to do a room sweep," the spymaster says in an almost demanding manner. You simply raise your hand to your forehead, saluting him with a quiet “Yes, sir," before disappearing into the house.

It took Azriel way longer to get through his usual routine. He liked his office tidy for his morning working session. So at night, even if he was tired to his bones, he made the effort to sort through every pile of documents. Arrange them neatly. When he finally made it up to the top floor, where your room was located, it was well past midnight. Azriel knew that he could just drop it. He didn’t have to show up and check the room. Yet he still stood there right by your door.

"Princess," he knocked gently, not really in the mood to startle you once again tonight. You might be small and fierce, but everyone has a limit. When no response follows, he tries again: "Yn, it’s Azriel, can I come in?”, but still nothing. He could just walk in, but you weren’t a prisoner per se. “This is your last warning," he says, waiting for a heartbeat before pushing onto the handle.

It was dead quiet in the room. He would have concluded that you might not have returned yet if not for the mess that your bed was. He frowns slightly. Following the line of blankets that lead to the fireplace. And here you are. Curled by the fire, all the blankets dragged from the bed. Piles of books scattered all around you. He didn’t know that you had gone to the library. Or maybe this was Nesta’s doing. In that case, he didn’t wish to find out what was written in them. Azriel scannes the room. His eyes fell on the pens and pencils on the table. A sketchbook. A strange feeling kindled in Azriel’s chest. He has a pad just like that. Kept it in his leathers. So if he feels the urge or if something captures his attention begging to be sketched, he could easily do so.

Azriel steps closer, trying not to leave evidence of looking through your stuff. It makes him uneasy just how close you are to the fireplace, but then. Flame calls to flame. He knows that he should turn away. Just leave you be. There’s no danger here. He knows it. But he finds himself stepping forward, kneeling by your body. He hasn’t seen you so peacefully innocent before. He only knew the frowning, tantrum-throwing princess.

Tilting his head to the side, he tries to drink your features in. You were a Vanserra. The resemblance to Eris and Lucien was there. But a much softer version. With freckles all over your face. Long eyelashes. Your hair was more ginger than fire-red. But then his gaze halted. Your left shoulder was bare. The very top of your breast... a scar. It was a scare that made him halt. On your collarbone. And then two lines going beneath your shirt. Azriel’s scowl only deepened at the sight of one more white line at the side of your throat. “What did they do to you?", he mutters quietly. But it’s enough to make your eyes snap open as you jolt up. And once again, there’s a dagger aimed at Azriel’s throat, this time from the side. The very tip pressing into his flesh.

“What the fuck?", you huff, lowering your hand. “That’s a much better aim. You’re learning fast, princess." Azriel tries to keep his face cool as he steps back. Standing tall. “Why are you here standing over me like that?”, you scowl, pulling the blanket tighter over your shoulders.

“I just came to check the room," Azriel says, moving his gaze to the window. Anything was better now than looking into your burning eyes. “And decided that you can just let yourself in," you say, pushing to stand up. “You were on the floor by the fire; who knows, maybe you were lying there dead?", Azriel bits back, gesturing at the mess you had created. It was embarrassing that he had seen it. No one was supposed to see it. A bitter laugh slips past your lips, “You wish that would be...", and in a blink of an eye, he is there. Inches away from you. Hand reaching for your hair. No doubt he had thought about just yanking it back but decided against it at the last minute.

“Don’t finish that," he says, opting for a warning finger once more. As if he’s scolding a child. “Or what?", you flash your teeth at him. Pretending to bite the very tip of his finger. “You love picking fights, huh?", he straightens, smothering his hair back. The slight curls falling over his forehead. “You love changing the subject, huh?”, you mock back in the same tone. “You might just be one of the most frustrating things that came out of autumn," and you can see that he probably didn’t even mean to say it out loud. But he did. And now you two were standing in the aftermath of it. Your hands curling into fists. “Thing...", you smile at him, “How sweet of you; ladies probably drop their pants for that," and here it was that cold, cold look on your face. "Out," you hiss, now pointing Azriel to the door. Dismissing him.

The next morning is rather awkward. Azriel finds you in the sunroom of the house. Your legs tugged beneath you. You don’t lift your head, and he says nothing. Taking his usual spot by the window to drink his coffee. It unsettles him. The silence. He doesn’t want you to feel like he’s some creepy stalker. Maybe you both should settle the ground rules. Talk about the situation. But once he finally finds the courage to open his mouth, the door opens. A gasp slips past your lips as you jump up, rushing to the male standing in the doorway.

"Luci," you breathe, wrapping your arms around your brother’s neck. The warmth he carried seeping into your body. “My little flicker," he mutters against your hair, leaving a couple of kisses on the side of your head. "Azriel," Lucien nods in acknowledgment. Azriel follows his movement. “I’ve got it from here”, Luci smiles at the spymaster, rubbing his hands up and down your back.

“What’s going on?”, you mutter against his chest, refusing to let go. “What did Eris say?”, your brother asks, and it’s enough to make you pull back. “I don’t give a fuck about what he said," you grunt. “I want to know what you know," you demand. You have a full right to. Lucien holds your gaze for a moment before letting out a tired sigh, “We will be heading back for a bit." You shake your head, turning away from him.

“I will tell you as soon as I can, I promise," he says as he steps forward, holding you by your shoulder as he lowers his forehead to lean against you.“Why are we going back?” It’s a whisper, but blood runs thicker than water. And you need to stick together, as you always did. Even if you still don’t understand anything, “There is a public outing. He needs us by his side." That makes you chuckle, “I also needed him by my side in case anyone was wondering.”.

"Yn," Lucien sighs, but you shake your head. “You don’t get to make me feel bad for him." It’s selfish, you know that. But they had sworn to protect you, and this feels like the opposite of it. “He’s figuring this out too; be kind," Lucien mumbles, pulling your hands into his and squeezing them. “Come on, you’ll get to watch the joy on Azriel’s face when I tell him that he’ll have to spend a couple of nights in autumn," he nudges you, making you smile ever so slightly, “Now that I can get behind”.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @emryb

#azriel acotar imagine #azriel x oc #eris x azriel #azriel x you #azriel imagien #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #acotar x you #acotar x oc #lucien vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you

[honeybeefae]

Coronation Day (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

Eris Week Day Two: High Lord

Summary// The day of Eris's coronation is finally here and while everyone is getting ready you realize your mate is nowhere to be found. After searching everywhere you finally find him in the gardens and you see a side of him that he rarely ever shows.

(I’m sorry that these are so short but I hope you guys are still liking them! This fic was one of my favorites to write and I think it’s just the detail and imagery that really ties it in. I also love writing about vulnerable Eris so it has definitely been fun for me! <3 Thank you guys for reading!)

(I also had pictured what the dress, crown, and shoes looked like so here are the references but of course I want you all to picture what you like! It is you, after all :))

Your Dress / Crown / Shoes / Eris's Outfit (but gold instead of silver) / Garden Gates

(Also I listened to Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift while writing!)

@erisweek2023

WARNINGS: None

You look up at the grand clock as the seamstress puts the final touches on your gown, your stomach in knots as you look over yourself in the mirror. It was Eris’s coronation day and everything had to be perfect, including you. The gown was exquisite, the exact dress you would expect from a High Lord’s mate, and your hair and makeup enhanced your entire aura into royalty.

The gown was the color of golden leaves with large sleeves and beaded foliage around the top to pay homage to your court. It swept the floor and had a grand trail, almost like a wedding dress, while the crown that was atop your head matched perfectly to Eris’s. 

“There, my lady, you are perfect.” The seamstress beamed in the mirror as she stepped back, taking in the entire outfit as you matched her smile with your own. “I have never seen a more beautiful and deserving woman to be our Lady of Autumn than you.”

“You are too kind, Cressida.” You blush, stepping off the pedestal and testing out your specially made-heels. “All this beauty is truly owed to you. I was but a blank canvas to your brilliant mind.”

“Now it is you who is being too kind, my lady.” She bows while she gathers her things and walks towards the door. “I will see you at the coronation!”

“I’ll be the one on the throne!” You laugh, waving to her before turning to your handmaidens with a nervous sigh. They all gush over your outfit, their voices intermingling into a crescendo before you shush them. “Have you heard from Eris?”

“Well…about that…” Luci begins, her mouth twisting down as she looks to the others who immediately look to the ground.

“What? What is wrong?” 

“Nothing is wrong, my lady, it’s just-” Luci tries to explain before Nikolet steps forward, finally caving. 

“No one has seen him since this morning!” She confessed, her hands wringing together in front of her. “He was getting ready and when the seamstress came to check on everything he had vanished. They didn’t want to tell you since you were also in the middle of-”

“They didn’t want to tell me that my mate was missing…on his coronation day?!” You raise an eyebrow, trying to control your anger as the girls sheepishly nod. You pinch the bridge of your nose and take a deep breath, shaking your head. “I will go find him, just finish getting ready.”

“But my lady-” Luci tries to interject but you hold out a hand, silencing her. 

“He is my mate. Wherever he has run off to and why he has run off is nobody’s business but our own. Now please, get ready. I will see you all there.” You urge, shooing them, before picking up your skirts and walking out the door.

The castle is bustling with activity while you try to find him. People were running around making sure everything was in its place, that the flowers were set and the food was prepared. You try to look neutral as you pass everyone, barely acknowledging their bows and awes of beauty as you search everywhere. You weaved and waded through the crowds of fellow court members, peeking through the doors of rooms and studies until you stopped at the grand entrance doors.

Where on Earth could he be?

You bite your lip, looking side to side, before you catch a glimpse of sunlight coming in from the window above. As you turn to see its path, noting how it hits the painting of the garden so beautifully, you get an idea.

The pace of your steps picks up as you hold your skirts tightly and all but run through the kitchen, apologizing to the staff as you almost run into the cake. They shout out, wondering where you are off to in such a hurry, but you ignore them as you push through the back doors and glide down the outdoor steps.

Leaves rustle above you as the autumn air greets you like a lover, wrapping around your bare shoulders in a soft caress while your heels click against the cobblestone walkway. The trees grow thicker as you make your way to the very back of the estate, to your and Eris’s small garden of Eden.

Tall stone walls and oak trees guard it from prying eyes, secluding it for everyone except the two of you as you slow your pace and walk through the iron gate. Autumn leaves cover most of the pathway leading to the small bench at the back of the garden where you spot Eris with his head in his hands, the tree above rustling and whispering things you think only he can hear.

“Eris?” You say softly, smiling softly when he raises his head to look at you. He looks beautiful in his dark red suit, golden embellishments lining the wrists and collar, with a white shirt and dark pants to match. His hair was styled neatly, as always, but what stood out to you the most was his pained, troubled eyes. “Oh, Eris.”

“You look beautiful, Y/N,” He says, watching as you walk over to him and crouch in front of him. Your dress rustles against the ground but you don’t pay any attention, all of your focus is on him. “A true Lady of Autumn.”

“What’s wrong, love?” You ask, grasping his hands in yours. “Cold feet already?”

He gives you a small smile and your heart flips. “You could say that…though it is very hard for me to get cold.” Eris chuckles though his voice falls flat at the end as he looks down, frowning. “What if I can’t do this? What if I can’t lead an entire court?”

“You can do this. If anyone can, you can, Eris.” You squeeze his hands tightly, bending down until you catch his gaze. “I have never had as much confidence in anyone leading as I do with you. This court has been through so much and you are going to bring it back to life.”

“This court has been through so much because of my father,” He scowled, standing abruptly while you sighed and stood with him. He began to pace back and forth as he continued his rant. “My father almost ruined this court and I know what the people think of him…what they probably think of me. I am my father’s son and what if, what if I become him? What if that is my destiny?”

The air stood still as he stopped in his tracks, looking at you with fear and sadness and doubt and vulnerability. You had only seen him like this once before when your mating bond had snapped. He hated to show weakness, especially when it came to his family, and your heart broke at his confession.

“What if I am no better than my father? A monster’s prodigy?”

You walk to him slowly and cup his face, caressing his cheek with your thumb as you pull him towards you and wrap your arms around his neck. Eris immediately crumbles at your touch and pulls you as close as he can, burying his face in your neck as your hands run down his back soothingly. 

Something wet falls against your shoulder but you don’t draw attention to it nor to the shuddering of his shoulders. You just hold him as tight as you can while you whisper your truth into his ear.

“Eris Vanserra, I want you to listen to me.” You begin gently. “You are more than your father’s legacy. You are the creator of your own story, the holder of the pen, and right now is the first chapter of it. You have more kindness, bravery, and leadership in your pinky finger than your father ever had.”

His shoulder slowly came to a stop as you continued, pulling back so that you could press your forehead against his and look into his eyes. “My love, I wish you could see yourself as I see you. Because do you know what I see?” You ask, placing a finger under his chin when he tries to look away. “I see a man who is brilliant. A man who is loyal to his court and saved them from war. A man who may hide behind a mask but cares more than he cares to admit.”

“I see my mate, my handsome soon-to-be High Lord.” You smile, kissing his cheek. “The mere fact that you are afraid tells me, tells everyone, just how worthy you will be for this crown. You will do amazing things for this court, for all of Pyrthian. I have never had more confidence in anything in my life.”

“Y/N…” Eris trails off, lost for words, but you shush him with a finger to his lips. 

“And if you happen to falter just remember I will be right by your side ready to set you straight.” You grin, giggling when he nods in agreement. “But seriously, you are going to be a wonderful High Lord.”

Eris takes a deep breath and whispers, “Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have been given you?”

“You could do to remind me more often…” You trail off teasingly. “Perhaps tonight after your coronation?”

He smirked and tried to give you a kiss but you cheekily turn at the last second, letting his lips land on your cheek and smiling when he let out a huff of frustration. You grab his hand and begin to walk out of the garden, turning back to him and saying, “Now, now, High Lord, we mustn’t keep everyone waiting. Come, let’s start this journey together.”

The two of you walk back into the Forest House, smiling and laughing, while everyone looks on in confusion. You arrive quickly at the doors of the grand hall where you can hear everyone talking, wondering what was taking so long. The advisors look worn out as they get in their places, just glad that Eris has been found, while you turn to look at him adoringly. 

“Ready?” You ask.

Rays of sun shone through the windows again, catching him in just the right light to give him an ethereal glow that highlighted his amber eyes and cheekbones. “As long as you are by my side.”

“Always.” You promise, kissing him tenderly before pulling away as the doors open. “Let’s go get your crown.”

As the doors open the applause nearly deafens you, everyone cheering and smiling as the two of you walk into the room and down the aisle. At the end sits two thrones of equal size, both of your crowns sitting on the cushions as you walk hand in hand towards your destiny. 

#erisweek2023 #acotar #acotar reader #eris #eris acotar #eris vanserra #eris vanserra acotar #eris x reader #eris x reader acotar #high lord eris #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x reader acotar #eris week 2023 #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #acotar imagine reader #eris fic #eris imagine #eris vanserra fic #eris fic acotar

[katethewriter]

Wandanat taking care of y/n after they get back home from a mission to robbery gone wrong at their house please 🙏

Safe Now

Pairing: WandaNat x civilian!Reader

Words: 3k~

Warnings: violence, beating, dragging, kicking, robbery gone wrong, nightmares, reader needs a hug, if I need to add any please let me know

A/N: thank you so much for the request anon! I hope I did it justice! Keep the requests coming!

Autumn leaves crunch underneath boot heels. The cool wind blows wisps of red hair around in a frenzy. Streetlamps are the only thing illuminating the ground as the pair approach their house. 

Its the first time they’ve been home in days. Both Wanda and Nat had been sent off on a week long mission. They were supposed to have returned home yesterday, but a delay in the mission and a repair on the quinjet pushed the return back another day and a half. 

When their quinjet touched down late into the night, the pair had considered staying at the compound for the night and returning to their home outside the city in the morning. However, they missed you. Something in the back of their heads told them they needed to go home now. 

This isn’t the first time they have left you alone while they were both on mission, but coming home was different this time. They could feel it as they walked up the pathway to the front door. 

Wanda reaches out to stop her wife, and her brow furrows.

“What is it?” 

Something is wrong. Thats what she wants to say, but instead she just shakes her head and continues on.

They’re tired, exhausted from a long mission. That’s why they miss the early signs.

Natasha slips the key into the lock, and chills run down her back. She pushes the door open quietly and steps inside. 

They expect you to be asleep, tucked away upstairs amongst a mountain of pillows. It’s the only way you can sleep when they are not home. 

The first thing that hits them is the temperature. It’s just as cool indoors as it is outdoors. As they make their way into the house, everything looks as it should. From down the hall, they can see the kitchen light is still on. 

“Milaya?” they call out quietly so as not to spook you.

“Lyubov?” but they get no response.

The two follow the light into the open floor plan kitchen/living room, and that’s when they see it. 

The house is wrecked for lack of a better term. Broken dishes are scattered across the counters and floors. A kitchen chair is turned on its side. The sliding glass door to the backyard is shattered, glass littered everywhere. Drawers are open. The tv and all electronics really are gone. 

Most importantly, you are nowhere to be found. 

“Y/N?!”

They call out for you in unison and still receive no answer. 

Wanda runs for the stairs, following the sound of your thoughts that get louder with every step, “Y/n?!” She takes the steps two at a time; Natasha is right behind her. 

“Y/N?!” they cry out. Running into your shared bedroom, they still don’t see you. “Y/n?” The room looks just like the downstairs. Drawers are pulled open; objects are thrown about. The closet door hangs slightly open. 

Wanda runs to it, “Y/n?” Throwing the door open, she reveals you curled up on the ground. Your hands and feet are tied together. A scarf is tied around your head, gagging your mouth.

When the door opens, you expect to see the people who did this to you, back to finish the job. You look up wildly and scramble away from the door the best you can. Relief washes over you when you see your wives standing in the door way.

Tears stream down your face, and you reach for them with your wrists bound together. 

Wanda kneels before you, “detka! Are you ok? What happened?” She pulls the scarf away from your face, “what happened? Who did this?” Sobs erupt from your hoarse throat. She moves on to untie your hands while Natasha cuts through the binding around your ankles. 

Once you’re free, you crawl into Wanda’s lap and cling to her tightly. 

“You’re safe y/n; we’re here,” she wraps her arms around you, tightly cradling your body to hers. “You’re safe now,” she rocks you back and forth.

“We’ve got you,” Natasha runs her hands up and down your back. Making eye contact with Wanda, she whispers, “We need to sweep the house, make sure there’s no one left-”

“Go,” Wanda nods, “I’ve got her.”  

Natasha presses a kiss to the back of your head. The last thing she wants to do is leave you right now, but Wanda is here. She has to make sure that you’re alone in the house. She also needs to call Steve. They need the team on this to find whoever is responsible. Reluctantly, she stands and exits the closet.

Wanda watches her wife pull her gun before leaving the closet, closing the door behind her. She then turns her attention back to the wife in her lap. She pulls away to take a look at you. She feels anger build in her as her eyes take in every bruise and cut that riddles your body. 

“Milaya, can you look at me?” Despite her anger, she is soft as snow with you, “what happened, love?”

You shake your head as you bury yourself into Wanda’s neck.

Wanda tries to blink away tears; it hurts her to see you in pain. She feels helpless. She needs to know some details in order to help her wife. With the state you are in, communication is near impossible. Wanda has another option, but she can’t bring herself to make you live it again.

“Can you tell me, please?”

Sobs still rack your body as Wanda rocks back and forth. She knows she has no other choice.

Wanda presses a long kiss to your temple, “may I look?” She kisses your temple again to help you understand her question, "in here?"

There’s a pause. Wanda regrets she even asked, but somewhere between your cries, you manage to nod your head. Granting Wanda permission.

“Ok,” Wanda holds you a bit tighter and kisses your head, “I’m sorry.” Reluctantly, she hovers her fingers over your temple. Red wisps dance between her fingers before they sink beneath your skin.

Both of you slip into your mind to find the all too painful memory.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Light peers in through the kitchen windows. The clock reads 9:30 am.

The smell of coffee fills the air. As you enter the kitchen to pour yourself another cup.

Aside from the birds singing outside, it’s quiet, near silent. It always is when Natasha and Wanda are away. They were supposed to be home yesterday, but they will be home today.

You’re lost in the warm thoughts of being together again when the sound of shattering glass makes you drop your mug.

Looking up, you see three men entering the house through the broken glass doors. They look just as shocked to see you as you are to see them. The only difference being the utter fear in your eyes.

It happens so fast.

All three of them rush you at once. You run, trying to reach the panic button disguised as a light switch, but you don’t make it.

One of them grabs your shoulder, while the other grips your shirt. Not giving up, you thrash in their hold, still trying to get to that switch, one of many spread throughout the house.

It was Natasha’s idea, but Wanda was onboard immediately. You hadn’t really felt they were necessary, but the look in their eyes changed your mind.

You’ve witnessed the nightmares. The ones that have Nat sitting up, sobbing in the middle of the night. The absolute worst ones. Her worst nightmare is not that her past has caught up to her. No, her worst nightmare is that her past has caught up to you.

Wanda insists. She’s making new enemies by the day since she joined the avengers. After losing her parents and her brother, she begs you to agree. “I can’t lose you,” she whispered, “please.”

So you agreed to settle their worries. The hidden points all throughout the house did in fact make you feel safer. If you’re ever in trouble, you know you can push one, and your wives will come save you immediately.

If only you could reach it.

You fight and fight, but the switch is just out of your reach.

You can tell these aren’t any enemies of your wives. Their fighting is weak and sloppy. They’re barely holding on to you, and there’s two of them against one of you.

Just because these aren’t trained fighters/assassins/secret agents, doesn’t mean they can’t still do considerable damage.

You’re reminded of this when one strikes you in the back of the head. You stop fighting then. You try to keep fighting for your wives, but your vision is going blurry and your body isn’t responding to you like it usually does.

After that, you’re not really aware of what’s going on around you. The men are yelling at you, asking questions, screaming at you and you’re not hearing any of it. The screams then mix with blows, a fist to the face, throwing you from wall to wall, and eventually a few kicks to the stomach.

By the time it’s all over, you are alone in the bottom of your closet. You remember there’s a safe button on the side of the shoe rack, but one attempt to shift closer to it erupts into deep pain everywhere.

Taking in the situation, you realize you’re tied up at the hands and feet. A scarf gagging your mouth. You’re completely alone, with no way to go get help or cry for help…

… and no idea when your wives will be home to find you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Suddenly, you are back on the closet floor with Wanda’s arms around you.

The thrust back into the present is violent. More violent than Wanda is used to.

Your sobs return with a new ferocity. Gripping Wanda even tighter, you try to convince yourself that it’s over. Nat and Wanda are here. You are safe.

Wanda feels a rage she has never known. Watching the memory, Wanda knows these intruders were not a part of any organization. They were just a few greedy civilians. They beat the love of her life and left her for dead. All over a couple valuables.

“I tried,” your lilting voice draws Wanda’s attention back to what’s most important, “I tried to reach the switch.”

“Sh sh sh,” the witch pulls you closer to her careful not to pull too hard. “I know, shhhh. You did the best you could detka,” she whispers in your ear, “I’m so sorry we weren’t here moya lyubov.” Tears spill down her face at the thought of what could have been. “I’m so so sorry.”

“Please don’t go again,” you scramble as close to her as possible, “please don’t leave me.”

Wanda pulls away just enough to cup your face and look into your eyes, “I am here, and I am not going anywhere ok?”

She waits for you to nod your head.

When you do, she continues, “we are here with you. You are safe. We are gonna get you taken care of. Ok?”

There’s a knock at the door, and panic seizes you again. You cling to Wanda trying to put as much distance between you and the door as possible.

“Shhhhh,” Wanda rubs your back to calm you down, “it’s just Nat, detka.”

You peak out of Wanda’s beck to see your other wife kneeling in front of you.

“Natasha?”

“I’m here, lyubov,” the widow reaches out for you, and you crawl into her arms. She holds you so gently, you forget the brutality her hands are capable of.

Wanda mentally relays what she learned from your memory. Not the whole thing, but the important details. When Nat is fully caught up, she grips you just a bit tighter, never wanting to let you go again.

“There’s no one else in the house,” Nat says more to Wanda than to you. You are so far buried into her neck, you can’t hear anything but your cries and the beating of your heart. “I called Steve,” she continues, “he’s gathering a team. They’ll be out here shortly to investigate.”

Wanda runs her fingers through your hair and makes eye contact with Nat. “She panicked when you knocked on the door. I don’t think she can take that many people right now,” she speaks directly into Natasha’s mind.

The widow nods in understanding. “Love,” she pulls away to get your attention, “can you look at me?” She wipes the tears from your face as your breathing starts to settle again. “Do you want to stay at the compound? We’ll get out of here before they get to the house. How does that sound?”

“We can have Cho check you out and get you tucked into bed before the rest of them get back,” Wanda tucks hair behind your ear, “would that be ok?”

You nod your head, knowing you don’t have a voice.

Wanda presses a long kiss to your forehead, followed by a few more, “come love.” She stands, and you whimper at the loss of contact. “I’m right here,” she reaches down to you.

Together, they help you to your feet, “neither of us are going anywhere. I promise you that.” Natasha has an arm wrapped around your waist, “do you think you can walk?”

Nodding, you take one step just fine. The next step, however, has your ankle rolling underneath you and your body crumbling to the floor in pain.

Quickly Wanda and Natasha catch you before you hit the ground. Natasha takes you into her arms as gently as she can and carries you down to the car.

Much later at night, more like very early the next morning, they finally have you tucked away between them in their bedroom in the compound.

Natasha first carried you to the med bay. Cho bandaged your wounds, wrapped your sprained ankle, and checked you for a concussion. Once you were cleared, Natasha carried you up to their bathroom where Wanda was already drawing a bath.

Now, you are clean and warm, with your wives on either side of you watching over you protectively. Sleeping with help of medication.

Wanda lies beside you; her chest acting as your pillow. Her fingers filtered through your hair that smelled of her shampoo.

Nat lies behind you. An elbow on the pillow props her head up enough for her to look down at you. A hummed melody floats from her throat to your ears quietly to keep you asleep. She traces patterns on your back careful to avoid any tender spots. Careful kisses are placed on your shoulder.

Knowing they won’t be able to sleep, they will sit in this bed and watch you sleep for however long you need them to. Neither one willing to leave this room.

They only ever use this room if they need to crash after a late night mission. Ever since the three of you moved into the house, they would much rather come home to you. You have only slept in here after one or two of Tony’s parties when everyone was a little too drunk to make it home.

Sitting up, contemplating the night’s events, Natasha can’t stop imagining what could have happened if they had stayed at the tower instead of going home to you.

“But we didn’t,” Wanda stops Natasha’s thoughts with her own.

They lock eyes, Nat counters, “she would have been like that all night.”

“But she wasn’t,” the witch stops her again. She looks down to you and strokes your cheek. “We can’t go down that path. We're here now. She's here now, and she needs us-"

As if on cue, you begin to writhe in their arms. You break out into a cold sweat, and your breathing spikes. Your face crumples as a nightmare grips your entire body.

"Shhhh, detka," they coo, "you're safe. You're ok; it's not real."

They try to gently shake you to wake you up. However, afraid that you were going to hurt yourself, they ended up just holding you still.

"Wake her up, Wanda."

The witch nods and quickly does so. Your eyes spring open as you frantically look around the room.

"Hey look at me," Wanda cups your cheek, "it's just us, detka. You're safe. We're in the compound; no one can hurt you."

"I think they're here. Are they here?" your voice croaks in between ragged breaths.

"Shhhhh," Natasha runs her hand up and down your arm, "they're not here. The team found them. They're on their way to the raft now. They will never hurt you again."

You collapse against your wives, falling into tears again. They hold you until your sobs reduce to hiccups, wishing they could take this pain from you.

Eventually the three of your breathing syncs, and you are almost calm again.

"Hold me tighter," you whisper, "please."

Of course, they oblige, burrowing as close to you as possible.

"We love you," Wanda presses a long kiss to your forehead.

Natasha echoes into your ear, "we love you so much."

For the first time tonight, a small smile graces your face, "I love you."

"You need to sleep as best you can, lyubov."

Your entire body tenses at the thought. You can't sleep. You don't want to risk reliving the nightmare again.

"I can give you a good dream," Wanda offers. Her fingers trace patterns on your arm.

Once again, you relax back into the embrace of your wives, nodding gratefully.

With a wave of her fingers, Wanda plants a memory in your subconscious. She chooses the night Natasha proposed to you and Wanda, one of the best nights of your lives.

"Sleep, neither of us are leaving."

They both kiss your head again, whispering reassurances of their love and protection.

Your eyes slip closed, and you drift off to sleep feeling safe and oh so loved.

#Kate hits 1k! #wandanat x reader #wanda x reader #natasha x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximov x reader #natasha romanov x reader #wandanat #wanda x natasha #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda maximov x natasha romanov #reader needs a hug #fem!reader #wlw #polyamory #civilian!reader

[blouisparadise]

Here are some great bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of February. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) A Little Bit Of You | Teen & Up | 2,301 words

Louis is a cute omega who loves autumn and baking cupcakes. However, when he goes to the supermarket to get the last ingredient for his recipe, strawberry jam, he meets Harry, a grumpy alpha who is unwilling to hand over the last jar.

2) I'm Gonna Love You Forever And Ever | Mature | 3,059 words

Louis is independent, he is a free omega, except when he is with his alpha, then he just wants to be held and taken care of.

3) Can't Get My Fill, So I'll Take Yours | Explicit | 2,558 words

Harry's grip remains tight despite Louis’s scrabbling attempts to get him to release his oversensitive, twitching dick. Cum drips between their fingers, making it slick, and impossible to dislodge Harry, who has pinned Louis’ right hand to the pillow. When he can no longer fight, Louis collapses back against the mattress, hand dropping to his side in defeat. He’s still hard from the constant stimulation, but he’s so sensitive. Once he stops fighting, Harry slows his pace, guiding Louis' limp, free hand up until he can pin his wrists to the pillow with one hand. It’s so much, and he forces his eyes open, looking down to see drops of cum dripping out of his cock, forced out of him by Harry’s unforgiving dick and hand. “Harry, I can’t take it, it’s too much.” “You can take it, and I’m gonna fuck you until I feel like stopping.” Louis moans, going limp again rather than resisting this time. “Good boy. Letting me fuck you like a toy for my own pleasure while I see how many times I can make you cum before you pass out.

4) Started Off With Some Birthday Sex | Explicit | 3,669 words

When Harry gets woken up at the exact moment he turns thirty, Louis makes sure to start off his birthday with a bang.

5) The Prints Of Your Hands Are Still On My Canvas | Not Rated | 4,563 words

Harry and Louis broke up not long ago. Everything was fine until then, problems started with Louis’ heat just around the corner, an important presentation that he could not miss, and a very visible (or more like invisible) alpha that could help him go through his heat. And then Harry shows up. (Again.)

6) Be Brave With Me | Mature | 4,834 words

Harry is out as gay and has been out for a while, and his best friend Louis has always supported him. The green-eyed man knew that Louis was closeted and was scared to come out, of course, Louis doesn't know that Harry knows who he truly wants to be. It's the middle of June and Harry convinces Louis to go to a pride parade, what happens when Louis and Harry get separated and Louis find himself surrounded by homophobic protesters?

7) Home (You'll Never Feel Like You're Alone I'll Make This Feel Like Home) | Explicit | 4,937 words

Louis has been busy all of February and so has Harry. Harry's teaching not just his own, but also his colleague's year one class after her fall. It's been two weeks and the school is yet to find a substitute teacher for her class. Harry's worked to the bone, stressed out of his mind, and on top of it all Louis was also barely home. The only respite for Harry is winter half-term starting Friday February 14th 2025. And of course Louis coming home early to surprise Harry with dinner and a bath.

8) Everywhere, Everything | Explicit | 6,924 words

"Uhm- so I was wondering if maybe…maybe you could braid my hair?”

9) Your Love Was Handmade (For Somebody Like Me) | Explicit | 12,608 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Harry looked up from his phone when he heard the clicking of heels stop at the table. He smiled kindly at the hostess and then his eyes travelled to the man behind her. His smile faltered at the sight of Louis in front of him. “Yeah, not gonna happen,” Harry said and started to get out of the booth. “Harry, please. Don’t go,” Louis pleaded and stood so Harry couldn’t get out. “I’m not going to be made a fool again, Louis. You had your fun, now let’s forget it ever happened.”

10) The Unsuccessful Promise | Teen & Up | 15,204 words

At the end of the previous school year, Louis swore to everyone that he would return in the fall as an alpha. He made this promise especially to his arch-nemesis Harry Styles, who has already presented as an alpha himself. Unfortunately over summer break, the worst thing possible happens: Louis presents as an omega. Now school is back in session and he has to return and face the consequences of pre-determining his status. Featuring Liam and Zayn as Louis' doting and exasperated parents.

11) The Royalty’s Game | General Audiences | 19,390 words

“There is no ritual other than the King Harry Styles having a Family line.” “I promised my dead wife to love her until I stop breathing.” Harry spit angrily. “This is the only way to stop the Night storm.” The Avatar of Khonsu said worriedly.

12) Gemini Rising | Explicit | 23,389 words

Louis might as well give it a shot. Maybe - just maybe - if he starts crossing boundaries in the same reckless way Harry does, that lunatic will get the message. So he starts invading Harry's space any way he can think of. He bites on his toast while Harry is speaking, he tears his morning tea out of his hold and he only hands him back the mug when it's empty, he steals half of his boxer briefs, he walks into the bathroom while Harry is peeing, he even uses his toothbrush right in front of him. When Harry's phone buzzes, Louis dives his hand into his pocket and he reads his texts out loud. When Harry's sleeping, Louis shoves his door open and asks him if he wants a snack. Louis is really trying. Like, really, really trying. Too bad it's not working.

13) Drop And Draws - What A Feeling | Mature | 50,020 words

Ever since he presented as an Alpha, Harry can't stop drawing the same person over again. Louis, since long before he presented as an Omega, has always had behavioural problems... When Niall sees one of Harry's drawings, it becomes clear that these two must meet, and quickly. Everything should be easy, shouldn't it? Except, perhaps, Louis is on the other side of the Atlantic, firmly attached to Ricky…

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry fics #fic recs #blp fic recs #blp monthly fic recs

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

Messy Eating

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Summary: Dean’s messy. Whenever he eats, it always falls everywhere on the table, on his chin, on his fingers… It was all fine, until it wasn't. Until that hunt with only you and him. Until jealousy and anger mixed with pie and sexual tension.

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Word count: 7202

Warning: Smut, unprotected sex, fingering, p in v, hickeys, lots of finger sucking, food play, messy eating, bit of angst, minor injury

Square filled:  finger sucking for @spnkinkbingo​

A/n: Here it is! I wrote that one a while ago but never posted it for some reason... I think I didn’t think it was good enough. But I read it again today and it’s so much better than what i do now, which is nothing cause of my writer block xD anyway, enjoy!

“You’re messy.”

It always started the same.

The day started normally. You got up, the second after Sam but before Dean. As you walked into the kitchen, the smell of coffee greeted you with a good morning from the youngest Winchester making lunch. Since you've been living with them, you've never seen Sam miss a single breakfast cooking surprise.

Around the time of your sixth sip of coffee, the bacon roasting in the pan, Dean arrived still half asleep. He poured himself a cup of coffee, complimenting the delicious smell of bacon and how his brother knew him so well, making him his favorite meal every morning.

Then he ate.

The fat from the bacon trickled down his chin as he took a too big mouthful, his tongue struggling to get it all back in his mouth. Crumbs fell on his plate like leaves in autumn, always surprising you how badly he could eat.

Since it clearly was not going to fit in his mouth by itself, Dean used his fingers, pushing the escaping food back inside.

The fat trickled down his fingers as he did so, slowly, it traced the outline of his digits to land in his palms and also between his knuckles… Like a fucking delicious porno… And that was when your day turned into a nightmare. A nightmare filled with dirty thoughts, heat mounting between your legs, wetness flooding your panties.

Dean had big hands, nothing more than normal with how tall he was. Over six feet of muscle and sheer beauty to the eyes. Sam also had big hands. But Dean’s fingers… Dean's fingers were thick, long, large and blunt and from having touched them once or twice during hunts or when you had to bandage bruised knuckles, you knew they were warm, strong and soft to the touch, yet rough from his years of work and hunting. 

And then you would start picturing them everywhere on your body, squeezing your flesh, your throat, sliding between your folds…

Fingering you…

And then you, sucking them clean- Him fucking your mouth with his fingers, taping at your tongue cirling them, praising how good of a cocksucker you’ll be when he’ll allow you to have his cock in your mouth-

“You're so messy,” you repeated, tearing your eyes from his fingers now glistening with grease under the neon lights in the kitchen. Christ, you couldn’t keep doing that, picturing every single utility of his fingers, not when Dean and Sam were in the same room! Faking a disgusted face, you hoped neither of the brothers noticed the truth behind your comment. I'm turned on by those fucking fingers, again!

It was unfair, so fucking unfair. Dean was single, you knew that very well. He really enjoyed having fun with women, that too you were sure, you had seen him leave bars more than once with a well-fitted bimbo.

And meanwhile, there was you, Y/n Y/l/n, a hunter-in-training who accompanied the Winchesters on hunts to learn and fix whatever injury they would get. Little Y/n who never left bars with anyone and always watched the dream on two bow legs leave with a different person every night.

It was so unfair when he was so close, but yet so far to you. It was unfair how you wanted him but were too shy and hesitant to do the first step, scared of rejection and how it could ruin your relationship with him.

Clearly, there was something more than friendship you felt for the green-eyed hunter. At first you thought it was only admiration and a little crush, after all, he was a very hot and beautiful man, but then… It grew up. More. And more. And recently those feelings, if you could call them that, had taken a turn… In the most uncomfortable craving way. It wasn't just that you loved the girth of his fingers or his tongues licking their lengths, or his lips wrapping around his digits… 

It was worse than that.

His hands. His fucking fingers. You would catch yourself staring at them for long periods of time now. As he cleaned his guns, washed the dishes, or passed them against his face or through his hair. You stared at his hands all the time, so much it hurt your focus during hunts.

When you couldn't watch them, you were imagining them. Alone in your room, your hands buried in your panties, fingering yourself at the thought of him. Picturing his thick fingers instead of yours as you touched yourself… So lost in that fantasy you could almost hear his growls and feel the warmth of his body against you on the bed-

And at first, masturbating while thinking about Dean managed to lower down your needs enough to be in the same room as him. Okay, looking him in the eyes was still impossible, and the first few times you were so embarrassed, like he knew, and you had to leave immediately, but your core wasn't burning up anymore in the mere presence of him. But then, it wasn't enough. Thinking about him, about his hands, about his lips… It didn’t do it anymore, it didn’t fill the need or satiate your arousal.

The worst was when he ate. It was like no one taught him table etiquette, or that he was doing it on purpose to make you fucking horny. Food would trickle down his fingers like an invitation, any sauce, grease, jelly, cream… It drove you so fucking crazy!

“Can't help it when it's that good,” Dean muttered with his mouth full, bringing you back to the present. “Delicious,” he purred, and suddenly, it was like he knew. You were sure he heard your thoughts, that’s it, Dean’s a mind reader. Because next thing he did was put his fingers in his mouth. One at a time, slowly, he sucked his fingers clean.

Dean started with his thumb. He put the larger digits in his mouth and sucked it clean, the skin glistening with saliva, an adventurous droll of spit still linking his lips to it. For the index, he did the same, but then, there was still grease left between two fingers, so he had to use his tongue… Sliding perfectly in the tight, narrow space. For the remaining fingers, he licked them up like lolipop, from the bottom to the top, humming and moaning his approval at the taste.

You were dripping. You could feel it, the warm puddle between your legs was growing intensely as he finished cleaning his hand. Melting on the chair at the fucking sight.

And when the right hand was done, he licked his lips, eyes wide with the pleasure of the taste, stared at his left hand and… started licking it.

Under the table, your legs closed together. In the useless attempt to release some tension, you rubbed them together, trying to find some friction, but when a moan almost escaped you, you knew you had to leave. “Excuse me,” you suddenly got up, not even touching your breakfast and leaving your coffee on the table. Sam looked at you questioningly, but you barely acknowledged him before you almost ran out of the kitchen.

Now in the security of your room, the door locked, you quickly stripped off your pajama pants and panties to look at the damage.

Yeah, it was a close one.

And now you were so horny, you couldn’t leave it like that. You had two choices. Rub one out, hoping you could be fast and silent enough for the Winchesters to not notice, or take a freezing shower to cool out your head.

“Y/n, dress up, Sam found a case!”

His voice alone had powers over you, even when he was saying the most normal of things. Because, again, your imagination drove the wild route, and you started to imagine him giving you orders and dirty talking to you- that mouth was made for sins after all.

“Gimme 10 minutes!” It took a couple of tries, but you could actually manage to answer without missing a single word. 

Cold shower it is.

-

That was mostly what you had to go through every day. 

It couldn’t continue like that, it was now not only uncomfortable because of your inadequate arousal, but also because jealousy was starting to break your heart. But what could you do? Tell him? No way.

10 minutes later, you were ready to go on the hunt that Sam had found. It didn't look very complicated, mysterious disappearances, all the victims had been in the same building, cold spots, most likely a ghost.

You were waiting for Sam and Dean by the car when the green-eyed hunter entered the garage, his bag on his shoulder. "Hop in sweetheart, you're riding shotgun."

A crooked smile tugged his perfect lips as his perfect arms tucked his bag into the trunk of his perfect car. "Sam will sit in the back?" You asked, opening the door to sit in front, Dean sitting next to you. Usually, for Sam’s gigantic legs, he had to be in the front and you in the back, so this was new. 

The immediate proximity with Dean gave you a heat stroke that took your breath away for a moment. Wait, how do we breathe again? Why is my heart reacting like this? It's not normal, usually I can at least breathe! Don’t look at him, you’ll look weird, you are weird, stop!

Your eyes fell on his hands on the steering wheel despite your mind just ordering your body not to look at him. His thick fingers played with the key before inserting it into the ignition. Ah, yes, to breathe, I have to inhale. Okay, I can do it. You let the air enter your lungs through your nose, but it only made things worse when his perfect scent reached your senses. Fucking perfect he smell divine.

And now his scent was already all over the habitacle.

Dean twisted the key and the engine purred its sweet melody. "No need, it's just you and me today," he simply announced. As if he had just announced a discount at the grocery store.

"What?" Your voice came out sharp and a little broken, like a seagull being strangled. Your eyes searched for him as he shifted the gear into reverse, the garage door opening behind you.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine." He patted your thigh as he said this, green eyes glancing your way slightly. Your whole body stiffened at the sight and touch of his large warm hand on your body. “You're ready for a two person hunt.”

Only one ear listened to him, and you watched with sadness his hand leave your thigh to land on the bench behind you. The hunter leaned dangerously towards you, head turned towards the back to reverse out of the garage.

“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” you muttered under your breath, looking at the bunker disappearing in the rearview mirror as he drove away.

-

“The fuck was that!”

Now in a motel room, the hunt was finally over but it was not thanks to you. It was a ghost, exactly like you suspected, but then, it wasn’t only that. They were two, twins, kids, they died horribly in that building decades ago and now, every year at their anniversary, they kill the people that entered the building the same way they died. Blocked all doors, played hide and seek with them and then…

Locked them forever in the building, slowly killing them of starvation and madness.

“You had one job, how could you screw it up that bad!!”

The bones were easy to find, but at the same time, impossible. They were both still in their hiding place, the place they died all those years ago. The moment you arrived, you and Dean split up to search the grounds, but then, because you really were not focused, you missed all the important clues that were leading you to the place you had to go.

And here you were now, sitting on a chair, a bag of ice on your head where it hit the wall, your hand stuck in a bandage where you burned yourself trying to burn the bones.

“I’m sorry,” you tried again, but Dean wasn’t having it. He had nothing, no scratch, no wound, he burned his bones easy peasy, and when he went and checked on you, it was to see you with blood on your forehead, struggling to light your matches and burning yourself with them when you noticed him.

“I thought you were ready,” the hunter groaned, his hand rubbing his eyes slowly. Your gaze followed the movement and you couldn’t help but lick your lips. Christ, Y/n, not the time!

“I’m sorry,” you tried again. “It doesn’t hurt though,” you removed the bag of ice to show him your forehead. Dean opened his beautiful green eyes and worry could be read in them like in an open book. Guilt too. He regretted coming with you on this hunt alone. And you bet he would never allow it like, ever again.

Dean reached out to you suddenly, leaving you no time to think of a proper reaction to his proximity. Big, wide hands rested on your cheek, lifting your head up, concerned eyes focusing on your forehead. Swallowing hard, you let him do, feeling one of his hands leaving your face to gently stroke your wound. A hiss left your mouth. It was sensitive. “Doesn’t hurt my ass,” Dean let go of your face, stepping back. “What happened back there? I know you can deal with ghosts just fine, and the ghosts were not even there.”

Crap. Your lie wasn’t working anymore. The ghost twins only appeared at their birthday, which was not today. 

You glanced down at your hands, playing with them nervously. Truth was, you tripped, simply, you were not focused, thinking about things and a certain person you should have not been thinking about, tripped on a plank and hit the wall face first. And when you heard Dean coming, ashamed of your clumsiness, you burned yourself trying to light the bones on fire as quickly as you could.

“I tripped and fell, that’s all,” you ended up replying, still avoiding his eyes.

“I can’t believe it!” Glancing up, you looked at him, not understanding why he was so pissed about this.

“What’s wrong with you? Why are you making a scene?” You got up, voice louder echoing in the small motel room. “I tripped, it happens! Can you let it go!”

“Let it go? Sure!” Dean exploded, anger filling his eyes and you really tried to understand why he was so pissed. “I’m letting it go, I’m going,” he took his jacket, his keys, and slammed the door on his way out.

“What the fuck?” You sat back down, putting back the bag of ice rather roughly on your head and winced. “What's wrong with him?”

-

You still had no idea why Dean was so mad. You got hurt, it happens, and the hunt went well, you burned the bones and that was it. Still, you felt like you did something wrong and didn’t like having fights with him, so you did what you thought was safe, you walked to the grocery store and bought Dean a pie. Maybe it wouldn’t be enough for him to forgive you for whatever you did, but you knew he wouldn’t be able to stay moody when he would get back if he had a pie. Dean could never be mad with a pie. 

If… He came back.

You suspected he went to a bar and would probably spend the night with another nameless chick, so you left the pie on the table with a note, saying you were going out and you were sorry. Anger and jealousy were boiling in your veins at the thought of him with another girl, but you were still wondering why he was so mad in the first place.

You decided it was time to dress up for the rare occasion of you going out and even put on some makeup, glad you brought all of those things with you this morning. The fed outfit would do the job, short, black pencil skirt with a tight white blouse.

The bar was close to the motel, and no Impala in the parking lot informed you Dean wasn’t there. Perfect. It was your turn to have some fun, you had to let him go, Dean would never be interested in you, and tonight's weird reaction only confirmed that.

After a few drinks and a few men crossing your path, you finally found the right one and were ready to leave with him for the night. It wasn’t something you did often, one night stand with strangers, especially after you drank and after a fight with Dean, but tonight, you wanted to. Be like him a little, be wild, do whatever you wanted, and the guy was handsome. Tall, short hair, brown eyes… shorter than Dean tho. And more muscular. But it wasn’t Dean you wanted.

Also the stranger’s hands… They were not like his. Big, yeah, but his fingers were longer, less thick, nails not as blunt. Probably someone working in an office, those hands never saw hard work in his life, other than holding a pen to sign some documents or lifting weights at the gym.

No, you had to stop comparing him to Dean, it wasn’t Dean you wanted.

Your high heels were starting to get uncomfortable as you walked with the stranger to his car, his name was Glenn or… Sean… Or… His name had no importance whatsoever. 

One moment, you were sure of yourself, dizzily walking to his car, but then, you were not so sure anymore and you stopped on the spot. 

“Everything okay sweetheart?”

The way he said that pet name wasn’t him. It wasn’t…. He wasn’t the man you loved. You drank tonight, but not enough to lose the last remains of your consciousness. This, this wasn’t you, sleeping all around with strangers, pretending your feelings and your attraction for the green eyed hunter didn't exist.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, starting to step back, scared he would suddenly get really mad at you for changing your mind. Men were like that, getting angry, treating women like sluts and teases for changing their minds. “I can’t…”

“Hey,” he softly said, a soft smile drawing up on his lips. “It’s okay, we don’t have to either. Don’t worry.” Even if his words seemed trustfull, you were still suspicious. Your hunter instinct kicked in, but in that outfit, there were no pockets, so you had no weapon to defend yourself. “I know how it feels.”

“What?” You frowned, your head tilting to the side as he stepped back instead of closer. 

“I came here to forget, and… And well, I don’t want this to turn bad. I had a great evening, it can end up like that,” he proposed, shrugging his shoulders.

You studied him for real. “Wow, they still exist,” you laughed, really believing him now. Truth could be seen in his eyes, you were good with reading people’s intentions. “I must confess, I had a nice time too, Steven.”

“Glenn,” he laughed, and this time, you really felt the tension leaving your shoulder. “But close enough.” Glenn walked closer to his car and then turned to you. “Let me drive you home at least?”

-

In the end, even if the bar was close by foot to the motel, you accepted Glenn’s proposition. It felt good to trust someone, not immediately jumping to the conclusion he had to be a monster or possessed or a complete dick. Glenn was nice, kind, too, and in the car you learned he was the CEO of a paper company downtown and well, things weren’t going well at his job, that was the reason he was at that bar.

The drive ended up rather quickly, and that was when you noticed the beautiful 67 car in the parking lot. “Damn it…” You cursed. You wanted to drown in the seat. 

“What’s up?” Glenn asked and you turned to him, rolling your eyes. 

“Someone I don’t really want to face is there,” you confessed, staring at your wounded hand. Glenn probably followed your gaze, because you felt him tense beside you.

“He's the one that hurt you?” You turned your head to look at him. “Saw your head,” he added, and you were sure if you didn’t stop him, he would leave his car and beat the shit out of Dean, only Dean would end up beating the shit out of Glenn.

“No! God, no,” you hastened to say. “I tripped, that’s all. I swear,” you raised your hand like a promise and laughed, but he didn’t seem really convinced. “Tell you what,” you continued, picking up a pen from your purse and then his hand to write something in his palm. His skin was so soft and warm, you really wanted to stay with him in the car more, just holding his hand. It felt… Normal. You didn’t know you wanted normal until now. Just a hand to hold on to, a body to cuddle, some warmth. “Here’s my number. Text me, I’ll have yours, does that reassure you?” You smiled.

“Yeah,” it was Glenn’s turn to smile. “Thank you, have a nice night, Y/n. Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do,” you said, and then, purely because he was the nicest guy you ever met, you leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Good night.”

You watched the car leave the motel parking lot until it got swallowed into the darkness of the night. Your phone buzzed in your purse, a sign Glenn just texted you. Good, you had his number. Maybe you could see him again one day.

You stayed outside a little bit more, standing alone in the silent parking lot, staring at the motel. Now, you had to enter the room you shared with Dean, really hoping he was alone and not screwing another chick. Actually, you hoped he was with a chick, you would have a good reason to call Glenn back and go to his place. Anything to avoid another confrontation with Dean that would end up breaking your heart.

When you entered the room, at first you saw nothing. It was pitch black. But then, a light turned on on your left and you turned your head to see Dean sitting at the table in front of the pie you got him. Talking about an entrance.

“Had fun?” 

You watched the hunter sit back against his chair, legs spread, feet tapping on the floor, arms crossed on his chest. He was still wearing the same shirt but didn’t have his plaid shirt on. Your eyes immediately stared at his biceps a bit too long. No, Y/n, you are mad at him. Stop looking at his perfection.

“Lots,” you replied, walking to your bed, ignoring his eyes burning your neck as he kept on staring at you.

“Glad you had fun with Glenn,” Dean continued and your head snapped towards him. 

“What?” You were on the verge of exploding. “You followed me? How did you-”

“Got his license number, less than a minute and I had his name, age, address. Did you know his company is falling apart?” Dean continued, green eyes burning as he kept on looking at you. “I read some very interesting stuff about the CEO sucking at his job.”

“That’s not of your fucking buisiness! I’m a fucking adult, I do the fuck I want with who I want,” you exploded finally, walking towards him. 

“He could have been a monster, Y/n, did you think of that?” Dean leaned forward, still sitting on his chair. He was lower than you since you were standing up, but you never felt smaller. Not with the way he was looking at you. Almost… Disappointed. “Or a demon, you didn’t even have holy water on you!” He gestured to your outfit with his hand. Yep. Disappointed. Disapproving your choices.

“I can take care of myself!” You groaned, walking even closer to him. One more step and you would be standing right between his legs.

“Guess not, or you wouldn’t have hurt yourself in the hunt!” He grabbed your wrist, showing you your bandaged hand.

“Will you let the hunt out of the conversation? Christ, what the fuck is wrong with you? I got hurt, get over it!” You tried to get back your hand, but his grip tightened.

“What’s wrong with me?” Dean rose up, his height swallowing you down immediately. You lifted your head, not breaking eye contact. You were fed up with his attitude. “What’s wrong with me is, I know. How you look at me, disapear in your room the moment I do something remotely sexual, like this!” Taking the hand that wasn’t holding your wrist, Dean suddenly dipped two fingers into the pie, cupping some cream from it. Showing you his now messy fingers, he put them in his mouth, sucking them slowly. Some cream stayed on the corner of his mouth and you felt yourself choking the need to reach up and clean it. “I know. I see you,” his voice was now rusty, low and dangerous. “I hear you when you touch yourself. Do you think about me? About my hands? Do you imagine my fingers instead of yours when you finger your tight little cunt?”

Your lips parted to breathe, but Dean took it as an invitation. Sugary and thick, the fingers he just put in his own mouth stroke your lower lips, inviting you to open wider. Completely under his spell, you obeyed and felt him slip his fingers in your mouth.

It had an immediate effect, you felt yourself growing weak as your tongue licked his digits even cleaner than they already were, tasting the flavor of the pie on them. Closing your lips around them, you started sucking, eyes not leaving his green gems, like two magnets, impossible to look away.

Dean tilted his head to the side and removed his fingers, a thread of saliva connecting your mouth to them. “You’re driving me fucking crazy and you have no idea how much I dreamed of this…” Leaning towards you, Dean’s face was so close you could feel his breath on your lips. Beer, the sugar of the pie, you were hungry and only a slight distance separated you from kissing him. “So… Were you picturing me, all those times I heard your little whimpers? All those times the smell of arousal lingered in your room… Meaning you just touched yourself and got off, huh? Tell me…” His hand was still holding your wrist, but the other had free access to your whole body. Even if his skin was warm, burning, even, shivers still climbed your skin whenever his fingers grazed your flesh. They ended their exploration against your neck, playing with your hair and then, circled your throat gently. “You need to use your words, sweetheart… How badly did you want your fingers to be mine?”

“So… So bad,” you whispered, chasing his lips like he was the only oxygen in the room. Heart pounding fast, you could feel the beatings between your legs where it ached to be touched. Dean groaned, not letting you kiss him yet.

“Hmmm,” he hummed, his hand leaving your throat, touching every accessible part of your body as it got lower but avoiding your breasts. “Hmm… Say please,” he muttered, green eyes locking with yours again. You could feel his fingers against your thigh, going up under your skirt, so close to your core and yet, so far.

“P-Please…” You begged, your mouth obeying his demands without your mind needing to order your body. “Please, Dean… Need you… Your fingers…”

“Where? Where do you need my fingers, sweetheart?” He was doing it on purpose, stroking the inside of your thighs and you moaned, trying to get him to touch you faster. “Nuh huh… Words.”

Reaching down, you captured his hand, guiding him towards your core, panties now drenched and hot with your arousal. “Here… On me… In me… Please…” You whimpered, your head now a mess of him. Your thoughts were a mess of his voice, face, how good he smelled, how bad your lips burned with the need to kiss him, to have everything, to have him whole. “Please, I want your fingers inside of me… Please…” You grinded on his hands, biting your lips, moaning when you felt him shiver. 

“Fuck, begging me so good… So fucking wet, all for me?” You could feel Dean’s smirk as he placed his lips on yours, finally kissing you. And like that, you let go, your free hand gripping his shirt, kissing back with everything you got. Tongue out, you licked his lower lip, Dean groaning as he opened his own mouth to let you in. For a couple of seconds, you dominated the kiss, it was messy, loud, your moans filled the room with his low growls as you kept on grinding on his hand. But you lost any rhythm when you felt him toss your panties to the side to immediately sink two fingers inside of your drenching hole.

“Oh, fuck,” you broke the kiss, trying to breathe, the sensation so perfect. You felt already full, full of him, his digits so thick inside of you. How many nights have you dreamed of those fingers inside of you, pumping your tight entrance? Way too many lost nights, trying to get off, picturing him, all of him on you, in you… A shameless moan escaped your lips, immediately swallowed by his mouth.

Once again, you tried to find your breath, it was so much, almost too much all at once, your legs shaking with the stimulation, but Dean cut down that possibility as he kissed you once again, his fingers already moving inside of you. They were going slow at first, teasing, even, almost exploring. You could feel them move inside of you, stretching your entrance, and then finding the spot that turned your moan into a high pitched whimper.

“Found it,” Dean smirked against your lips, and then, he started pistoning that spot again and again. Your visions whiten and you closed your eyes, struggling to stay up as pleasure attacked you in waves. The sound of your wetness as he moved his fingers was almost nasty, so loud, but you couldn’t hear it very well, not under all the sounds you were making. “That’s it, cum on my fingers…”

Like it was an order your body was eager to obey, you let go, your orgasm exploding between your thighs. It felt powerful, washing over your whole body, shaking as you struggled to stay up once again, and you felt something warm trickling down your legs. “Hm…” Resting your forehead on his shoulder, you moaned lazily as his fingers slowed down to a stop.

“Nuh huh, look at me,” he ordered, and even if you were still stuck in the high of your orgasm, you tilted your head back just enough to look at him. Dean had his hand up, fingers glistening with your juice and smiled as he slowly and teasingly licked his fingers clean. “Hmm… Sweet, just like I thought…”

The sight made you quiver and you swallowed, staring at every single one of his gestures. How his tongue was so pink, agile, moving languidly from bottom to top and then twisting around his digits, not missing a single spot, his chest vibrating a satisfied hum. He took his sweet time, on purpose, making your need for him stronger by the minute. And before he even finished, you freed your hand, grabbed him by the collar and pinned him to the wall, lips already stuck to his, kissing him. Hands started undressing each other until there was only flesh against flesh, hands on skin and tongue against tongue.

Once you were both naked, Dean guided you to the bed, his hands burning wherever he touched, and right now they were on your waist. You landed on the bed in a soft hmf. Your breath cut, but before you could even find it again, Dean was stealing it with his lips, kissing you again. 

“Please,” you begged, your hands lost in his hair as his face was hidden against your neck, kissing and leaving his mark on your skin. Tugging, you tried to make him look at you, but only a groan answered you. “Dean, please,” you tried again, and then you felt it. Without him even looking at you, Dean pressed his cock to your entrance and pushed in slowly, stretching you and filling you up so good your head rolled back, giving him even more access to your throat he kept on attacking. 

“So tight for me sweetheart,” Dean groaned, kissing your throat once more before looking at you.

It was a moment frozen in time. Two bodies joined, two souls staring at each other, eyes lit by desire, a fire that was almost extinct but always there, finally eating, finally living for real. And he was beautiful, Dean was beautiful, inside, out, everything about him was beautiful. You found yourself reaching up, cupping his face inside your palm, fingers brushing his scruff. It tickled your skin and you felt your heart flutter in pure love when he leaned against your touch, closing his eyes. A soft exhale brushed your face, like all the pressure of the world just left his back. 

“Dean…” It was a whisper, only his name, but how you said it, the moment you said it, it meant everything. It was everything Dean needed to hear, everything he dreamed of. It was sex, but at the same time, it was so much more. It was the hunter allowing himself some happiness, it was him allowing his needs and desires to be true, to get them, like he deserved.

Green irises met yours as he opened his eyes, looking at you like you were the most precious thing he ever saw. It made you feel special, like you belonged to him, so many unspoken words readable in only one second of staring into his eyes.

“Y/n…”

The moment he muttered your name, his lips parted, letting the groans he was holding escape his mouth. And only then did you understood that what you felt for him wasn’t only attraction or sexual desire. It was more. Maybe he felt it too, because right now, you were closer to him than you ever were. And the moment he said your name, you felt him start moving, hips rutting, his length easily slipping back and forth inside of you. You moaned, your hand gripping his neck, inciting him to lean down and kiss you, and who was he to deny you anything? Dean leaned down, capturing your lips and stealing both your breath and your moans.

At first, it was soft, but quickly, the heat and the need that was previously so strong came back with force. And quickly, he was pounding into you, fast and hard, your hands scratching his back as your head rolled back, moans of pure pleasure flooding out of your lips. Breathing fast, Dean was groaning, mumbling things like good girl, feels so good, and the few times you managed to keep your eyes open was to see him close his. And then you could admire him, truly, without any mask, pleasure flooding his beautiful face. Cheeks red with the heat and maybe the situation, he was even more beautiful.

“Fuck, so close,” you heard him groan as a rough thrust made you see some stars. He heard the change in your voice, because his thrusts changed to keep doing that. Rough, long thrusts going even deeper into your core. “Gonna cum, cum with me Y/n,” Dean instructed and then you felt it, warm and thick, his thumb asking for access to your mouth. You let it in, parting your lips, sucking on his digit and biting into it as you felt the knot in your core expanding more and more. Moans got muffled by his finger and you bit harder, eyes rolling back as you felt it come, your walls fluttering around his shaft, it got higher and higher and then, it finally snapped in a pure bliss of pleasure. 

It was so good you closed your eyes on the spot, breathing hard to get oxygen into your lungs. It was almost impossible for you to hear anymore, your ears shrilling, but you were glad to still have some hearing left to hear him as he reached his own climax.

Dean removed his finger from your mouth to place both of his hands on the bed. Rougher thrusts met your cervix, spasms of overstimulation controlling your body, and then he stilled and a long groan softly echoed in the room as you felt him spill inside of you.

“Oh… fuck…” Dean’s face dropped back against your neck, breathing in your scent, kissing the sensitive flesh of your throat. And even if his lips were burning and bruised by all the kisses you shared, pleasant shivers ran down your skin, bringing a nice, refreshing feeling. Giggling, you stroke his back softly, your fingers tracing the muscles around his spine, skin covered in sweat.

“Dean, it tickles,” you whispered. One last kiss and Dean was pulling out, laying down beside you on the bed. The two of you stared at the ceiling for a while in silence, not knowing what to say. It wasn’t awkward per say, the moment was needed to cool down, from the intense sex, yeah, but also to get back rational thoughts. 

“You asked what was wrong with me,” Dean ended up breaking the silence, and you immediately turned to your side to look at him. He was still staring at the ceiling and licked his lips. “Everything’s wrong with me,” he ended up confessing, and even if you really wanted to cut him off and deny his words, you let him continue. “When I saw you were hurt, I got angry, because it was my fault.”

“It wasn’t-” You couldn’t help it, you had to make him understand none of this was his fault, but Dean shook his head.

“It was. I knew it, for a while now, not very subtle, Y/n…” A smile stretched his lips, and if the conversation wasn’t so serious, you would have adored watching him smile. It was precious, it wasn’t often you could admire that smile. “I knew how distracting I am, can’t help it, I know I’m hot,” he joked again and you rolled your eyes. Of course, having a heart to heart conversation with Dean Winchester would always end with jokes. The hunter was never known to enjoy serious and deep conversation involving feelings, like he wasn’t allowing himself to have them. Like it was forbidden to feel things. “But… I still chose to go hunting with you, and you got hurt, and I got so mad, but not at you, at me, and then I came back and you weren’t there… And even if I was a complete jerk, you still got me a pie to apologize for something you didn’t even do, I…”

“Dean,” you tried again. Dean finally turned his head towards you, and you could see hurt shining in his eyes. Your heart sank. 

“I tracked your phone, found you at the bar. With that guy. I got angry with jealousy, so I left and came back here, and then when you weren’t leaving his car, I tracked his license number. His company failing isn’t his fault. Steven is mister perfect nice guy. ”

“Glenn,” you couldn’t help but correct. Dean rolled his eyes, a glint of jealousy still shining in his eyes at the mention of him. You knew how Dean could be possessive sometimes, of his car, for example, but being jealous of a perfect stranger… It was hiding something deeper than that. You don’t get jealous of people without any feelings. “So…” You changed the subject, really hating to see so much pain in his eyes. “Not only did you know how I felt, you enjoyed it, you enjoyed torturing me.”

Dean turned completely towards you, frowning. “That’s all you get from this conversation?”

“What I get,” you got closer and watched his Adam apple bob up and down in nervousness. “Is that you knew, and on purpose, tortured me with your damn hands.”

“I mean, yeah, but,” Dean trailed off, wide eyes clearly confused as to where the conversation was going.

“Dean, I’m usually really good at reading people. And when… When we…” You searched for your words, heat invading your face as the thought of it. “Had sex, I saw it. What I get is, you don’t allow yourself to feel. I know you think you can’t be loved, that you’re the wrong in what’s wrong. But it’s not true.” You got even closer, now completely invading his personal space. “What I get is, I… I have feelings for you. But now, I need to know, do you have feelings for me too?”

There was another silence. It wasn’t long, the time of two hearts synchronizing with the other as realization hit. And in those couple of seconds, you could see every emotion going through him by simply looking in his eyes. It was a whole book, a complete story of how he felt, from doubt, sadness, anger, understanding. 

Love.

“I do, I think… I think I love you…” He finally said, and this time, the smile that stretched his lips was true and you welcomed it with great joy. Softly, you placed your hand on his cheek, stroking his skin with your fingers. “But you’re really bad at reading people,” his smile turned into a smirk and you frowned. “Cause you never understood I was doing it on purpose.”

“Oh, I’ll get my revenge just fine,” you grinned, your thumb slowly stroking his lower lip. “You can count on that.”

“I’d like to see you try… But first, can we huh…” Tongue poking out of his mouth, Dean licked his lips, purposely touching your thumb. Arousal poked you between your legs, suddenly really awake and aware of the proximity of the naked man in the bed with you.

“Hm?” You trailed, your attention focused on what he was doing with his mouth.

“Eat the pie? Cause it’s there and I’m hungry,” he casually said, but again, you could see all the mischief glowing in his eyes.

“You want to eat it with your hands, right.”

“Oh yeah,” Dean was already up, bouncing towards the table. “So you can lick my fingers clean after.”

“I hate you,” you sat up, looking at him now sitting at the table in all of his naked glory. Gosh, he was so beautiful, it was unfair. Shining with happiness and love. Starting to allow himself to feel.

“No you don’t.”

And like that, with the nastiest and hottest expression on his face, Dean dipped his thick fingers inside of the pie. It shouldn’t be turning you on so bad. But yet, it did.

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245​​​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​​​ @eevvvaa​​​ @wickedinspirations​​​ @fictional-affairs​​​ @awkward-and-indecisive​​​ @cryptichobbit​​​

Supernatural Tag List: @cryptichobbit​​ @sexyvixen7​ @stixnstripesworld​ @charred-angelwings​ @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​​ @lyarr24​​ @fiftyshadesgrl​​

Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278​​​ @siospins2​​​ @kazsrm67​​​ @wtrpxrks​​​ @deanwanddamons​​​ @thoughts-and-funnies​​​ @charred-angelwings​​​ @jensendreamland​​​ @deanswaywardgirl​​​ @happyt0exist​​​ @waynes-multiverse​

#spn kink bingo #dean x female!reader #supernatural #supernatural dean #supernatural dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural dean winchester smut #supernatural dean winchester x reader smut #supernatural dean winchester x you #supernatural dean winchester x reader fanfiction #supernatural dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader smut #supernatural dean x reader smut #dean x f!reader #dean winchester x f!reader smut #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fanfiction smut #finger sucking

[fertilize-my-eggs]

He's watching you.

Sleep paralysis demon Shigaraki x fem reader noncon smut

A/N: so I made a poll for me to work on switch fanfic the hangover smut or the sleep paralysis demon shiggy and y'all wanted the demon shiggy so hope y'all enjoy this one. This one was based on doja cat demon, parts of it.

Warnings: noncon + dead doves do not eat + oral(female) + breed & knots + reader has a mental breakdown please read this with cautious + tomura being a scummy pervert dick. + pissing + multiple orgasms.

You're unable to move as you stare intensely at the creature that always watches you.

Even since you brought this big old house in the forest, your family has told you, are you insane? To that, you just love the quiet woods, how beautiful it is when it's changing colors from the warmth of autumn to the chilly cold winter.

The creature stares back at you, tilting his head to the side as you watch it in a crouch position on the roof of your bedroom.

You can't help but stare at the black horns sitting on his head with pure white locks, both his hands and feets were covered in black gradient.

His skin was pale but was scarred everywhere. It always makes you flustered that this thing was naked. It has his penis dangling freely as he shows his pointy fangs with a sinister smile.

You blink a few times to see the creature vanish.

Each night was the same thing, you were taking a nice warm bath, cleaning your body.

The soapy foam was covering your body, you sigh softly. This was clearing your mind and not thinking about that demon creature thing.

As you rub your shoulder feeling relaxed, a chill runs down your spine as you feel sharp pointy fingertips touch your scalp down to your back.

You quickly turn around seeing nothing, there was no one here.

" what the fuck… " you turn away feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

" fucking stop doing that. "You scream out, you know this creature was messing with you.

Silence fills the room, this thing can smell your fear and he can taste how delicious it is when you're shivering like a leaf.

You quickly get out and start to dry yourself off, you hear laughter echo out in the house.

It's mocking you, you gulp your saliva as you fear that it is real.

You leave the room back to your bedroom as you change into something comfy.

Maybe a good, nice sleep will help you out.

Wearing a cozy plain shirt and shorts was enough for you, you crawl in your blanket as you sigh softly.

You are slowly falling asleep.

.

.

.

Your nose scrunched up as you pant heavily, why is it feeling hot in this room.

You cry out, arching your back up as you grab what feels to be hair near your crotch.

You blink a few times as your eyes wide as you look down, the long white hair covers your whole body, your shorts go missing and you see it feasting.

His long tongue licks up your clit back to your entrance, you feel his fingers sliding inside faster.

 You're sobbing from this, you stare back at his intense crimson eyes staring back at you.

He groan as he has smirk on his wet lips, he lean back down, using his tongue to fuck your insides.

You grip the sheets and his white hair, grinding his face, you noticed how his tail wags side to side. It's long and has a pointy end at his tip.

His arms wrap around your thighs pulling you roughly towards him as he begins to devour your sweet juices.

You scream out as you rise up breathing heavily…. You put a hand on your chest as you begin to pant.

Was that a dream, it felt so realistic… the look and the way he… you look down to see you wearing your shorts but notice it has wet stains and the sheets as well.

You sigh as you get up to change the cover and take a quick shower.

This has to stop, why… Why did he pick me out of anyone.. why?

You keep questioning it and question this creature, it has to be something that is so… abnormal.

Maybe it's the house that holds this creature hostage, maybe it's a ghost of a person.

The old owner did mention someone living here before you.

You sigh heavily, maybe you will never find out.

You get out to dry yourself, as you are lost in thoughts.

There was a whisper. " I can hear you. "It was soft and raspy near your ear as you quickly looked around.

There was nothing, it's driving you insane.

The fingertips dance on your skin as you run away, breathing heavily.

" stop… just fucking stop.. " you whisper out, the room is empty but you know it's listing to you.

It's a cat and mouse game to him, he is playing with you both physically and mentally.

" please… leave me alone. " you crouch down as you begin to rock as tears slide down.

" What do you WANT from me?!? " you scream out, blinking away the tears as you hug yourself.

You look crazy sitting on the floor talking to nothing but you know this creature is messing with you.

You hiccup heavily as you quietly get up and lay back down. It's nothing… it's all in my imagination you thought.

Your tired mind tries to fight to stay awake as you hold your blanket close, cover your body as if you were a child with a big mad monster.

You blink again to see him back in the same position on the ceiling, he starts crawling towards the center as he stands upside down.

He looks so intimidating with his lean muscular body as you stare paralyzed in fear.

You blink again as he disappears and reappears above you on all fours as he licks his lips.

" Did you miss me? " you blink again as he vanishes in thin air, you are struggling to move.

" did you enjoy me eating you out darling~? " your eyes move down to the edge of the bed as his claw-like hands rise upward as he moves up. 

The deep purring and growls send goosebumps all over your body.

He crawled towards you with that same smile, those eyes.

" I know you were excited when I ate your tight little pussy ~. " he traced his fingertips on your skin.

" can't wait until you taste the real thing. " he cheeky wink at you as you finally spoke.

" w-what do you mean? " he tilted his head back as he let out a deep dry laugh.

" ohh sweetie~. " his hand caress your face tenderly as he lean in and whisper.

" you can't handle this cock." He nips your ears.

" You'll be so cock drunk by it, you'll be begging for more~." As he leans away watching your facial reaction to this, you gulp harder.

His hands slide down the curve of your body as he rips the shorts off.

You scream at him to stop, you're crying out.

He roughly pulls your shirt up to reveal your bare chest.

" No bra? I see~ " he lean to give soft kisses to your right breast as he pitches and pull the other.

" stop… stop!! It hurts. " You cry out, push his head away but his free hand quickly pins both your wrists above your head as you moan out.

He ignores your pleas as he bites harshly on your nipples, he takes his time to give hickeys to each one.

You will look beautiful wearing it, he licks his lips as he growls at you.

His tail taps the sheet excitedly, you know he is getting off on this.

His fingertips slide down to your core as he groans lowly.

" Your body is being honest to me, I know~ " he add three fingers inside of you as he's being careful, sliding in and out fast.

" I know baby… be patient 'kay? You'll get your reward soon~ " he pants heavily as he goes inhuman speed no human can beat this, it feels like a machine.

You arched your back upward as you watch him cooing at you sweetly.

Wetness sliding down fast as the loud slick echo in your ears.

Your orgasm hits you like a train, toes curl in, your body starts to twitch as your eyes roll back.

You look possessive in that state but to him, you look like godness fallen from the heavens taken by a disgusting pervert demon like himself.

You didn't have time to enjoy your high as he removed his fingers quickly, he grabbed your thigh, pulling it towards him.

He throws your leg over his shoulder as he grabs his hard cock and roughly shoves it insides. You scream in pain as he purr sweetly, the tails wrapped around your thigh as he grinds a bit.

Letting you get the feel of his size, he pulled out fully as he rammed inside fast.

You can't control your moan, it doesn't sound like you, it sounds more animalistic.

 

You can feel he has these weird bumps, more glans at the tips as he growls heavily.

He begins to scratch your skins leaving behind red marks, you feel a hard ball at his base every time he slams deep.

" yeah~!! Take that fucking cock, you slut! " he growls more, your sweat runs down your skin, reddish hue covers your skin.

" please.. no more I-.. " you cry out, you gripping his arms as he slamming your cervix each time he thrusts.

The tail removes itself as it moves to your waist area, pulling your body upwards as he grabs your thighs to meet his heavy thrusts.

He was right, you can't handle this, it's getting too much. You roll your eyes back as you begin to piss on the bed sheets and his crotch area.

He purrs at this as he licks his lips, he continues shoving his thick cock inside your tight hole.

" see that~ " you blink at him with a heavy eyelid, you feel exhausted from two orgasms.

His hands touch your chest as it follows your belly, your eyes open wide as he caresses the large bugle.

" That's me~.." he groans out as he looks down at where you're connected, his meaty cock sliding in and out your wet sloppy pussy as he growls.

" fuck~!! You were made for this.. auhhh you want my knot? " he leaned in as there was excitement in his eyes.

" I never knotted a human, I usually eat them… but-.. " you blinked a few times, what does he mean by that???

" you're too pretty to eat…. well your juicy pussy on other hand. " He giggles airy as he makes some sick joke, playing with your locks.

" fuck~! best thing I ever tasted shit-.. you like that didn't you? " he tilts his head as he begins to smirk wide.

" Are you enjoying this? You sicko~. " he bites your neck harshly as he grinds his hips slowly.

" you can't wait until I knotted you? Make you full with my demonic babies inside. " He has the biggest smile you've ever seen, it is unsettling.

He leans away as he pushes your thighs to your chest, you're a babbling mess. Grabbed his arms tight you couldn't think straight by his cock bullying your cervix.

" Do you want it? Do you want me to knot and breed you like cumdump whore that you are?" You nodded your head fast as you're agreeing with this, a dump goofy smile on your face.

" awww the little human can't think of anything, I knew you'd get cock drunk by me~ " he groaned softly as he tightened his grip.

He pulls his cock out fully as he slams back inside faster, his hips in a circular motion as he stares lustfully.

" Are you ready? Ahhh fuck~ it's coming pretty. " he carass your cheek lovely as he groan out.

You can feel it at your entrance, you keep nodding your head, drooling sliding down, you about to hit an intense orgasm.

He bites your other side of the neck, the one that hasn't been marked.

You scream out loud, your body intense, twitching all over. You can feel more piss sliding down your sheets heavily. You hear a loud plop sound locking you together, the growls echo in your ears, feeling his hot thick cum filling you up.

You whimper as you grip his hair, his pelvis grinds your entrance as he begins to slow down.

He pant softly as you scrunch your nose at the heavy musky smell in the room.

Everything feels hot, you feel more exhausted by this.

You blink your eyes at him as he curls up your chest, his tail wraps around your leg as your bodies get tangled.

Your breathing calms down as you pull him close.

Maybe this isn't a bad idea as others think.

Getting dick down by a demon sounds hot, it was intense as you thought. 

You pet his messy white hair as you look at him, he begins to nip on your chest as he begins to grab it softly.

You hope this lasts longer, you don't want this to end.

He pulls away as he smiles at you.

" It's time to wake up. "

You blink again to see it is the bright morning again as you breath heavy.

" no… wait I want you back.. " you look around to see the empty room, you tilt your head downward with sadness.

As you pout out in a quiet room, you feel the chills again as you know his presents are near.

You start to smile thinking maybe he'll come back to your dreams again. You bite your lip as you feel the fingertips run down your throat.

You try to get up only to realize you're unable too.

You realize there are marks all over your body as you bite your lip hard.

You sigh softly as you lay back and enjoy the sleepless that take hold.

#tw rape #tw noncon #tw noncon/dubcon #shigaraki tomura #x reader #smut #fanfic #minors dni #bnha #mha #anime #shigaraki x reader #tomura x you smut #dead dove #tw piss

[onsunnyside]

🍁≬ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 (𝟏/𝟐)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | photographer!Ari Levinson x reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | glimpses of fluff, angst, old flames, childhood friends-to-loves aftermath, ex-boyfriend!Ari, size difference: 6’8!Ari.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Even the most beautiful love stories are bound to end in tragedy, but you thought you and Ari would be an exception.

𝗪/𝗖 | 3.64K

𝗔/𝗡 | currently in my sad autumn girl era but i know it won’t last long so i wanted to share this with you all. sort of poured my heart into it and wrote most of this in a teary haze last night. Inspired by Taylor Swift’s songs: Sad Beautiful Tragic, Exile, All Too Well, The Last Time. [𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 | all asks]. All mistakes are my own. 

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Don’t look, don’t look, you force your eyes on the television mounted above the table, half listening to the chatter of your friends and the hushed music playing from the speakers. 

A nudge brings your attention to your redheaded friend, “How have you been? You haven’t answered my texts.”

“Sorry, I’ve been working a lot.” The music shop didn’t get very busy, but Natasha didn’t need to know that you spent the past weeks buried in turmoil, revisiting every decision you’ve ever made that brought you here. “I also applied to the dance studio as an instructor, I’m still waiting for them to get back to me.” 

Her green gaze pools with worry. Of course, you’d answer a question about how you were with what you were doing. She hated to pry, but she cared for you like a sister. If you were hurting, she wanted to put a stop to it, or talk about it and try to understand. She couldn’t do that if you refused to open up.

“If you want to leave, that’s fine, I’ll walk you out.”

“I’m okay, Nat. I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle seeing him again.” 

The both of you know that’s a bald-faced lie. Especially because you’ve done everything to not peek in his direction. 

Natasha is drawn away by one of your other close friends, and they fall into an easy conversation with laughs and bright smiles. Their voices fade into each other, a blissful hum filling the loneliness that has clung to you.

I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle seeing him again.

You spoke too soon. 

Ever so slightly, you glance at the bar. Over the heads of the other patrons, his gaze meets yours. Deep blue, unreadable and sharp, piercing heavily through your face. 

Seeing him now, he’s different. His hair is longer, his beard is thicker, and he’s dressed in clothes you’ve never seen before—apart from his signature leather jacket that he wore for most of the year. 

You wonder if the way he carries himself all the same, with quiet grace and self-assurance, too often falling victim to his insecurities. 

You missed him. 

You missed his stupidly loud alarm clock, his cute bedhead and how he never failed to keep you warm on winter nights. You missed his endless rants about society, space and the world, past, present and future. His mind stretched into infinity, and you never always understood what he was saying, but you listened nonetheless. Listening was the best thing someone could do. 

Your eyes fall on the loose and shaggy fabric around his neck. The cream knit was your first little home project, evident with the frayed threads and stubborn coffee stains. That single scarf took you a week because of your lack of experience. You worked on it everywhere, on the train, at work and the park. Your favourite place to knit was next to him as he hunched over his computer desk and went through hundreds of photographs with his glasses on the tip of his nose.

That was the one thing he didn’t mail back. 

He goes around the table, handing out everyone’s selected drinks with greetings. “Sorry, I’m late. I got stuck at the studio with this last-minute family portrait session.” 

“At least it wasn’t another self-proclaimed influencer.” Curtis snorts.

“Fuck no, thank goodness for that.” He laughs, almost too gleeful. When he gets to you, he simply sets the drink on the wooden countertop and flashes a tense smile.

It either took one or ten minutes for you to sip the drink before you rushed out the back door with an excuse about fresh air. 

The cool, November air welcomes you with open arms as if it knew you wouldn’t last very long. You lean on the railing, distracting yourself with the red, orange and yellow trees across the way. The music and chatter fade into whispers, and the crickets and gentle wind take their place. Down below, the water ripples against the rocks, the wooden poles dark and green from the lake, another victim to time, just like everything else.  

The fall season itself was a tale of death. The days got shorter because the sun comes and goes all too quickly and the leaves turn into different shades before falling to the ground. Bidding farewell in warm colour pallets and leave the trees bare, mere skeletons of life, dormant and dull.

Then, they’re reincarnated by spring. Brought back by more sunshine and warmth, blooming hues the world has longed for. 

You wondered when your spring would come, or if you’d be trapped in perpetual autumn. Be forced to feel every part of you change into red, yellow or orange and fall until there is nothing left and you're in a barren comatose. 

You stare down at your dress, the very one he said was his favourite. The soft blue silk is highlighted by the dim fairy lights hung up on the fence. Memories are woven into the fabric and they’re all good because you stopped wearing this dress when things got worse. With a brush of the lace hem, you’re reminded of him.

“I knew you’d look beautiful in this.” 

“You have to stop buying me things, we have bills to pay.”

He scoffs, “bills aren’t going to help my girl realize how beautiful she is.” He takes your hand, pressing his plump lips on your knuckles, “I know it, the world knows it, but she doesn’t. And that isn’t okay with me.” 

The door swings open and slams into the wall, making you jump. 

“Oh shit, sorry!” His voice rings out, “Didn’t mean to scare you, I thought the door was heavier.” 

You quickly wipe your eyes, not caring about your makeup anymore. You tried hard to look your best tonight and embody that healed person you’ve pretended to be for the past few weeks. But he couldn’t say hi or your name. Why couldn’t he say your name?

He tucks away his cigarettes, “You stay, I’ll go out front. You probably want to be alone.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m going to call a cab.” 

“You’re leaving?”

“Natasha knows I have an early morning.” You keep it simple and duck away from his gaze, hugging your purse close as some sort of lifesaver that was keeping you from floating into the sky. Truthfully, you wouldn’t mind that abrupt escape after hearing his next words. 

“Wait—I mean, I’ll wait with you. It’s too late for you to be outside by yourself.” 

Your stride doesn’t slow, you hope he’ll get the hint and just go back inside, but with his mile-long legs, he easily catches up to you. His boots land heavily on the boardwalk and the buckles of his leather jacket chime, filling the strained silence.

“So, did you see that new cinema downtown?”

“Please don’t.”

He raises his arms in defence, a smile audible in his voice, “Sorry, I didn’t realize you hated movies.” 

“Ari.” Your shoulders slump and the sorrow gets heavier. You swear the world could cave under your feet. “Don’t try to—” You cut yourself off, knowing if you didn’t get away now, you’d regret it, “I want to be alone right now.” 

The pine trees sway in the breeze, surrounding you with their natural scent. 

He takes one hesitant step back, nodding slowly. “Right, I’m probably the last person you want to see.”

He couldn’t be more wrong and that only worsened the pain. How could he think that when he was the only person you wanted to see every day for over a decade? 

It stretches far back to when you were children and living down the street from each other. 

How could he think that when you used to wait out on the porch for him to pass by so you could walk to school together? How could he think that when you’ve spent hundreds of hours writing about his face in your diaries, about how his smile could light up a stadium and how his eyes were endless pools of stories and wishes? 

How could he?

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Ari’s features grow concerned as the hot tears stream down your cheeks. “It’s okay—” He reaches for you, gently grasping your hand. 

“No, it’s not.” You try to shrug him off, not bothering to wipe your face. He knew you were crying out here anyway. He knew you more than he knew himself, so it wouldn’t surprise you if he also knew what you were thinking right now—where did he find the audacity to say it’s okay? “I’m sad—I’m still so sad. And you aren’t.” 

Ari stiffens and releases your hand as if he’d been burned. His cerulean eyes are shaded by the night, and darkness bleeds onto his solemn face, “You think I’m not sad?”

You tearily blink, waving towards the bar by the lake. “You seemed pretty happy in there—and you acted like you didn’t even know me.” 

Sure, you probably would’ve cried if he spoke to you, but at least he would have acknowledged you. You’d take that glimmer of attention over his silence any day.

“I was—I am heartbroken.” He confesses, his long hair falling over his forehead as he stares down at you, “I didn’t know if you wanted me to talk to you—”

“Yet you followed me out here anyway.” 

Even in the moonlight, you can see his cheeks turn cherry red. 

“Okay, but I was checking on you. I didn’t mean for this to happen and to make you cry.” He protests, “Am I not allowed to worry about you?”

You close your eyes and shake your head, turning on your heel to continue down the boardwalk. The main street mocks you in the distance, beckoning you with yellow streetlights and the chance to escape, but his fingers wrap around your wrist, holding tightly.

“Wait, please. I’m sorry.” 

His touch is warm and familiar, the other end of the double-edged sword. On one end is the busy street, the carefree people living their lives on this fall evening, the cars driving by, and your bittersweet freedom—but also your lonely apartment with your cold, empty bed. The other end, the one entwining with your trembling fingers, is suffocatingly soft and inviting. Enticing you to stay and listen, but at what cost? Would it only bring more suffering draped in so-called closure or more confusion that your heart couldn’t take?

“Muse—”

“Don’t.”

He inhales deeply and you feel his breath on the back of your head. “I’m devastated, I’m alone, I’m stuck in this disordered loop that I don’t know how to get out of.” His grip constricts, once then twice but you force yourself to stay as unresponsive as a corpse. “You were my first for everything, I-I wanted you to be my last.” 

You knew that and you wanted the same thing. You’ve discussed it countless nights in your shared bed, whispering about the possibilities that the great big world offered, from tamed to outlandish. Picking up a strange hobby, or travelling the globe, he even mentioned moving to a new country altogether, “think about it. A fresh start, just the two of us and unlimited options.”

“I wouldn’t say unlimited, unfamiliar sounds more accurate.” 

“Pick a place, any place and I’ll make it happen.” 

“What if I don’t tell you and just take off alone? Soak up all that freshness by myself.” 

“Oh, then I’ll find you. I’ll follow you anywhere.” 

Experiencing things for the first time together was a big part of your relationship. You were both painstakingly sentimental, which only made it harder to pack your things. Everything reminded you of what was or what could’ve been, you eventually decided to keep what you needed and throw out what carried tender nostalgia. 

You never followed through with that, but you do avoid the many boxes stacked in your closet. Full of pictures, gifts, and anything that reminded you of him. That was where you found this dress.

From the seedlings of memorable firsts, it was inevitable that you two gave each other your first heartbreaks too. 

The tears come back with vengeance, spilling down your heated cheeks, “You ended things.”

“You walked out!” He rushes to apologize, swerving in front of you before you could take another step. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Just please, listen to me.” 

Why? He never listened to you in the end. 

Whenever you brought up concerns about weird tension or the growing emptiness, he never listened.  He was all about work and brushed off dates for last-minute gigs. You knew he wanted a greater future for the two of you, something better than your crowded apartment with your roommates (now the close friends in the bar), and something brighter than the stars combined. 

You tried to understand and a part of you did, but the other part couldn’t take it anymore. The part that missed your boyfriend, missed your mindless conversations and quiet nights at home, and when he picked up that camera and photographed you like a piece of art. 

That part of you won. You laid down your weapons and went defenceless into his line of fire, with only your heart in your hands and a rehearsed speech in your head. 

You never made it all the way through because you two started arguing, right in front of your friends, spitting accusations fueled by rage and doubt, making each other into the bigger villain when it was always clear who was the culprit. 

Even now, although you know it’s him, you wonder if you were an accomplice. 

Childhood sweethearts turned college lovers, plenty of people have made it all the way—to whatever was their ideal. Many people have also given up, gotten tired, or fallen out of love. 

You thought you and Ari were stronger than that, and you wouldn’t let the pressures of life, work, and school weigh onto your relationship. But in the end, those voices were always right, and your shared dreams were crushed at the hands of breakdowns, lost time, and agonizing lulls. 

It was ironic how you’re haunted by voices while Ari rarely used his.

Ari wasn’t loud or interruptive. He was quiet and timid, and as he grew up, he slowly came out of his shell and matured into the tall, confident, and gentle giant in front of you. 

When you were kids, he wrote adorably misspelled sentences on sticky notes to drop into your lunchbox, and then in high school, he wrote love letters to slip into your locker. The sweetest part was that he never signed them, yet you always suspected it was him. He pretended to be curious about your newest note from your secret admirer and asked about the contents, all the itty bitty details of the proclamation in black pen.

He was after your heart, and he surely got it. 

He showed his love through touch, gestures and gifts, through photographs and love letters that were kept in a special box. 

It was beautiful in a way that only broken poets, starved artists and silenced lovers could understand. And you and Ari were all three. The tragedy was in colours no one else could see, the script in an undiscovered language, but to you and all the rest of the heartbroken, it was so vivid and clear. You dipped your fingers into that magic shade and poured your heart onto the white walls of the lonely tower, mourning your knight who would never return. 

You made the tragedy your home, wallowed in it, and pitied yourself over every missed opportunity—the fleeted moments where things could have changed, leading you somewhere different from where you were. But you tried to get better, to get clean of him and those noisy, unhelpful thoughts. You wanted to save yourself, to gather the guts to leave that tower and climb down to the lush grass and sparkling rivers below. 

In delusions, you are happy and satisfied, sober from the destruction. But right now, that false comfort was cracking beneath your feet. You wished to board up the windows and hide away from the world, from him. 

“Will you please listen to me?” He pleads, his voice thick, “just listen, you don’t have to say anything or even stay afterward.” 

“Why?” You turn to him, gritting your teeth to keep from sobbing. “Why should I listen to you when you never listened to me? When I told you that were growing apart, you just pushed me further away. Does—” Your voice cracks, “Does that not seem unfair to you?” Did you not deserve the same mercy he was begging for?

It was too late if he wanted to listen this time. It was gone, flatlined, buried under the dirt with overgrown weeds and ivy climbing on the gravestone. Your names were etched into the stone, just another miserable end in the cemetery of the heartbroken, the battered and bruised, the forgotten and silenced. 

You’ve been a ghost ever since he mailed back the things you thought he wanted. Transparent and floating through the graveyard, weeping in wonder, and feebly searching for that scarf—the one thing he kept.

“I won’t ask again. This is the last time, Ari. You won’t get another chance.”

He opens and closes his mouth multiple times, rethinking every thought racing in his head, but then he finally settles on shutting his mouth. Those plump lips pressed firmly together, a barrier for everything he should say—and everything you had the right to hear. 

Defeated, you release his hand. You didn’t realize you were holding him too, it was all just automatic at this point, unlike this moment which is only a rerun of a film you���ve already seen. 

Your gaze traces his face one last time, locking everything to memory from the curve of his dark eyebrows, the shade of his blue eyes, the point of his nose, the blush pink of his lips, and every freckle like they were constellations. 

In a flash, you’re staring at him from across the classroom, watching him slowly write on a yellow sticky note, his tongue poking from between his teeth in concentration. 

Another flash, and you’re watching him bolt down the hallway, passing lockers and other students with his azure eyes set on you. In his hand is an old polaroid camera and he’s wearing the widest grin, “Let’s go to the park.” He almost crashes into you but grasps your shoulder in excitement, illuminating the dull hallway with his glow. 

You laugh, “I have class… and so do you.” 

“Yeah, but the weather is so nice today.” He pouts, already tugging you towards one of the exits. “Plus, you look really pretty. Wouldn’t you rather be my model, than sit in some dusty old classroom?”

He kissed you that day, under the biggest willow tree in the park with his hand on your cheek. He blushed a nervous red and asked so sweetly, “Can I—May I please…” He trailed off, profusely blinking at your parted lips, “Will you let me b-be your first kiss? And will you be mine?”

And finally, you’re back in the present. His looming shadow as he towers over your lifeless frame, executed by the quiet and unspoken words. You’d take anything at this point, from shuddering pleas to choked apologies—you’d grovel for a single syllable. 

“That’s it.” You scoff in disbelief, “all you can do is look at me?”

Again, silence. His eyes pool with tears, seconds away from streaming down his cheeks and matching your wet trails and ruined makeup. He doesn’t speak, but he’s breaking, cracking at the surface like delicate porcelain holding back a flood. 

“You deserve better than me.”

No, he doesn’t get to decide that. He doesn’t get to use that stale statement to dig his own grave, right alongside yours before the final self-deprecating eulogy. It didn’t matter if he thought you deserved better than him, all that should matter was that you wanted him, that you still wanted him even after all of this. 

“So, you’re just gonna let me go? After all we’ve been through?” After you’ve given him everything, and showed him every part of you and let him in.

The first tear falls, dripping down his beard and onto the worn knit. Then another, and another until they’re streaming down his cheeks and soaked up by the scarf. “You’re already gone.” 

There it is, the last nail in the coffin.

Ari has never been aggressive or forceful, but you wished he’d be brave. You wished he’d fight for you, step into the battlefield with an unrelenting resolve to make things right—to get you back. But he doesn’t, he just looks down at you, chewing on his lip with clenched fists. 

He’s surrendered to the war, abandoning you in the tower of tragedy, but joining you in the cemetery of the heartbroken. He’s signing his name on the death certificate and damning you and your wistful dreams, erasing every ‘what if’ that has plagued the both of you since you were children.

“You couldn’t be more wrong.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat and fight the weakness in your knees, but you refuse to do this to yourself again, to give him a chance he won’t take. You turn around and continue down the dock, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself in a form of self-soothing. 

Autumn was a story of demise, but it had to be better than the earsplitting silence. You’d take the cruel cold and neverending abyss over the lack of effort. Right now, there was no spring in sight, no rebirth to raise you from the dead but you’d find your own life someday and somehow without him. You had to save yourself, be your own hero and come out victorious—alone, but triumphant.

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬:  i’ve already started a part two for those of us who want a happy ending, so if you’re an angsty person, feel free to just leave it at this part. i’ll let you all know when i have a date. this is also my second time writing angst on here, and i had a few good cry sessions. i know this isn't the usual filth but i hope you all enjoyed this nonetheless.

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! i love you all very much. pls take this kith 😚🫶

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! [my inbox] <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

#Ari Levinson #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson fanfic #Ari Levinson x reader #Ari Levinson x you #ari levinson x fem!reader #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson angst #ex boyfriend ​Ari Levinson #ex ​Ari Levinson #Ari Levinson fluff #Ari Levinson x reader angst #the last time au #sonny’s stories #Chris evans #Chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #Chris evans characters #red sea diving resort #reader insert #Photographer ​Ari Levinson #photographer!​Ari Levinson #ex!​Ari Levinson #angst #fanfic

[aspiring-house-husband]

it was feared in your village. they said it was half man, half monster. said it was beautiful and sung soft songs, but it was evil and would lure you away to kill you. they bring back bodies from the woods of men who were trapped by it and gored with its knives made of its own shed antlers. bitten by its sharp teeth, like a wolf’s, and ripped at by claws like bears’. they say that if you ever see it, run. hide. pray it does not find you. they say to stay clear of its woods, and never follow a voice into the trees. 

their fear of it gave you peace and quiet in the woods, for you had never felt in danger. you had always felt quite safe. you had seen the bodies, sure, but still you privately doubted the creature’s existence. a man with antlers? claws? fangs? 

“you are not one of them,” comes an unnatural voice behind you, one with too much clicking, like the tongue was extra zealous in the forming of the words. you whirl to see him, and his eyes glint like a deer looking into the fire. but he’s missing his antlers. 

“you look…”

“i take this form to better communicate with you,” he says, slinking closer to you. he stays low to the grasses and undergrowth as he moves, stretching long legs around to keep himself grounded. he’s smaller and lither than you would have imagined. “you don’t realize it, but you do the same, to speak with them. those humans. you are so much more than them.”

“what do you mean?”

“you are of mine, not theirs,” he tells you, and now he climbs your torso, cupping your face. he slots his lips to yours, and no sooner do you melt to the kiss that he slides his tongue into your mouth, invading it, tasting it. but he pushes further, and with shock and slight fear you realize that his tongue is long. it explores you, deep and filling your mouth, licking into your throat and obsessing your mind with his taste. when he pulls away, his face is sharper, like a canine’s, and he licks his fangs from both his drool and yours.

“this is what lives in you,” he says, and his eyes are slitted, and his antlers have grown in. he looks like the demon they warn you about, but he feels protective. like a friend. 

he grabs onto your shirt and pulls you to a rock not far away, sitting himself on it and lifting his legs to hook you between them. his ankles have lengthened out like a wolf’s, and he curls his fingertips to not slice through your shirt with bearish claws. 

“give in to it,” he growls, long tongue circling his jaw and salivating as he looks at you. he pulls you close with the grip of his legs and you match the motion by holding onto his hips. he draws his hands down your body, until his too-long fingers grip into your pants and tear them apart. your cock hardens against his thighs when he exposes it to his skin. 

“give in and be one with me,” he says, resting his forehead against your collarbone. 

“yes,” you breathe, your body on fire as you push closer to him, to his heat, his wetness. he opens his thighs to invite you inside, and it’s no effort to push into him. you grip into his hips harder as the pleasure washes over you, shuddering down your body. he squeezes to encourage you, and you almost go cross-eyed at the tightness. he’s so perfect around you, feels so lovely, so right. 

“let go,” he whispers against your chest, teasing his fangs across your skin, lighting it aflame everywhere his breath fans. you snap your hips into him, then again, and again, until he’s spread out on his back and arched his chest to the sky and he moans and whines and howls. it’s too good, it’s fire and adrenaline and rushing rivers and moonlit skies. it’s the wind of a hurricane and the autumn leaves bleeding red and the swell of blood flushing under his skin as his muscles tense around you. it’s the strong smell of his sweat and arousal and slick in your nostrils and the taste of his skin that you so badly want to bite and marr. it’s the feel of his hole around you, clamping down as though claiming you as his, your cock thrusting back in to mark him as yours. 

it’s when you’re too tall to fuck him comfortably that you flip him onto his side, clawed hands tangling into his hair and avoiding both antlers and fluttering ears to keep his head down so he can keep taking it so perfectly, watching your thrusts ripple in his flesh. he cums around you after he pulls his leg up and over your shoulder, and doesn’t let you pull out to let him recover. instead he grips onto your antlers to pull your head down to him and tangles his long tongue around yours, the two slipping over each other, mixing their tastes. 

“make us one,” he says, his hole still throbbing around you. his ankle locked behind you and still pulling you toward him makes the order hard to ignore. 

you pull out only when his legs go limp against you, and you’re treated with the sight of your cum slowly spilling from his hole. he reaches out with clawed fingers in such a soft motion that you couldn’t resist but to sunbathe on the rock next to him, letting him catch his breath by resting his head on your chest. 

“you’re so much more than human,” he tells you again, and this time, he breathes it like a prayer. his thigh over your hips is soft when your cock rises against it again, and his tongue leaves cooling tracks of saliva across your chest. 

#monster #og #story #outdoor #transformation #corruption

[neontoad]

“Here!”

Dazai is grinning from ear to ear, proudly showing Chuuya a handful of chestnuts he’s collected from the ground, and this is such an unexpected view, that Chuuya has to do a double take. 

He’s not mistaken. 

Dazai is smiling. 

A chestnut falls on the ground, - no wonder, Dazai's hands are overflowing with them, - and Chuuya picks it up, his eyebrow raised with scepticism.

When he reluctantly agreed to hang out with Dazai after a mission, he didn't expect him to start running around under a chestnut tree like a rabid squirrel, collecting chestnuts with such zeal as if they were no less than precious diamonds.

“You id-”

Chuuya doesn’t get to finish the sentence. His eyes meet Dazai’s, and the uncovered eye’s shine is hypnotic, its colour perfectly matching the chestnut’s, the dull colour turned into a rich hue of brown Chuuya’s never seen before.

On second thought, collecting chestnuts doesn’t look like such a lame idea. 

They start frequenting the park, and every time their pockets get filled with chestnuts, and their hearts with warmth.

Suddenly, autumn is not about gusting winds and rainy days anymore. For Dazai, autumn is about the fiery foliage of the trees that complements Chuuya’s hair so beautifully, and even though clear skies are a rarity in this season, Chuuya’s eyes are blue enough to make up for it. 

For Chuuya, autumn is about the deep brown of chestnuts, the colour he never knew was so warm - as warm as Dazai’s hand in his, as warm as the way he looks at him with timid adoration, as warm as the lively spark in his brown eyes. 

For them, autumn is about prickly husks leaving scratches on their hands, hot chocolate in paper cups, and sharing an umbrella on a rainy day, and always, as years go by, it’s about collecting chestnuts. 

It’s always about chestnuts. 

Their first kiss under the chestnut tree when they were 16. Their first “I love you” at 17 as they were lying on the grass, breathless, after relentlessly bombarding each other with chestnuts, smiles on their faces lighting up the gloomy Yokohama sky. 

Autumn is about chestnuts, warm hands and love.

Until it’s not. 

Chuuya is 18, and he doesn’t go anywhere near the park anymore.  

Seeing chestnuts in the grass doesn’t feel like a treasure hunt, but rather a bitter reminder of what he used to have. Frankly, he’d pay all the money in the world to cut down every single chestnut tree in this godforsaken city. 

Autumn is a shit season, if you think about it. 

Years pass, but Chuuya still can’t bear seeing a certain shade of brown. Much to his annoyance, it’s everywhere - in the colour of his desk, in the leather of his car seats, in the fallen leaves in the puddles of water on the ground. 

When he sees that shade again - the shade, as he looks Dazai in the eye in the Port Mafia dungeon, he tells himself he didn't miss it. He tells himself the colour doesn't look even more striking now that he can see both brown eyes looking at him with such longing, that he even lets himself reminisce for a split second.

One day they are heading to the ADA office after a joint mission. They aren’t speaking - they don't have anything to talk about. Not anymore. With the corner of his eye, Chuuya sees a familiar tree - it grew taller, but the way its leaves show off their autumn dress is the same as it used to be when they were younger. Before Chuuya knows it, Dazai is gone, running toward the tree with his trench coat comically fluttering behind him. Chuuya just rolls his eyes. Such a manchild. 

“Here!”

Dazai is grinning from ear to ear, his hands are full of chestnuts, and the way he’s showcasing his treasure to Chuuya wakes something up inside of him. Something that was dormant for so long. Something that he, deep down, missed so much.  

“You idiot,” Chuuya mumbles, intently looking at Dazai’s lips.

The chestnuts fall on the ground. 

It feels like their first kiss all over again. It’s chaste. It’s sincere. It’s perfect.

“Can we start again?” Dazai whispers into Chuuya’s ear, his warm embrace defeating the chilly September afternoon. 

Autumn is about forgiveness, warm hands and love.

Autumn is about them.

Autumn is about chestnuts. 

It’s always about chestnuts. 

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #skk #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #soukoku #fluff #mini fic #teen skk #autumn #chestnuts #a little angst but they are okay #falling in love