#i still want to let go of the pain and fill my life with happiness but I'm also realizing that it's okay to take it slow

[ladyveronikawrites]

Scar - Chapter Five

PAIRING: Jolly Karlsson x Sam (ofc)

What if your teenage daughter's fantasy became your reality?

Summary: Samantha surprises her daughter, Lyric, with tickets to see her favorite band for her sixteenth birthday. What's supposed to be one the best days of her daughter's life, also becomes hers.

CW: none, just dadomens trying to find momomens

happy bday jolly💛

Masterlist

word count: 2.3k

Sam’s chest tightens as Jolly’s carefree laughter fills her car. It feels like an eternity since someone other than Lyric was sharing the front seat with her, let alone another man. She tried the online dating thing– but with her crazy work schedule and Lyric’s after-school and weekend practices– it doesn’t leave her much time for dating.

“So how long have you lived here?” Jolly’s sudden and intriguing question softens the pressure in her chest. No other man has asked me that before.

“I grew up here, but left when I graduated high school,” she sucks in a shaky breath as she continues. “Fate would have it that I would come back when James did; we always knew we wanted to raise a family here.” 

“James sounds like a really great guy and a wonderful father to Lyric,” Jolly says softly as Sam pulls into the hotel parking lot. 

“He was the best at everything,” she confesses as she pulls her SUV into the nearest parking spot to park. “The best father, the best handyman around the house, a supportive husband…” Jolly watches as her green eyes shimmer bright before a tear wells and cascades down her cheek. 

Swiftly, he unbuckles slipping from the seat belt to lean closer to Sam. His hands hesitate as he ponders if she is comfortable with him touching her but when he catches the small nod he moves in to cup her face in his hands, wiping away her tears with a gentle brush of his thumbs. 

“Thank you,” her whisper fills the space between them. 

He would give anything to take away her pain and sorrow, but all he can muster is a small smile that he hopes conveys how he feels. As Jolly begins to pull away, he finds moist lips pressed against his. He tenses to the touch at first but when she parts her lips for him, he’s done for. He leans in, mouth hungry, tongue ready to explore more. He licks at her bottom lip, threading his fingers through her hair, pulling her in closer. And he stops. Shit, what if I went too fast? What if I misread the signs? Wait, did she actually kiss me?

Something stirs in Sam when Jolly touches her face. His hands are so warm and comforting that the tears she was holding back finally break. An unfamiliar emotion bubbles in her stomach as Jolly leans forward; the scent of him overwhelms her senses. Before her brain can stop her heart, she leans. His warm lips against hers sparks electricity down her spine. She can’t get enough. She melts into Jolly when he runs his fingers through her strands. His tongue is moist against her bottom lip and she is more than ready to let him in. Her lips still burn when he abruptly pulls away. When her eyes pop open she finds Jolly with a pained expression on his face. 

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes quickly. “Did I overstep?” His thick accent accentuates the concern in his voice.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Sam reassures the Swede with a smile.

Suddenly, the tall guitarist yawns, stretching as best he can in the small space, causing Sam to do the same. “Wanna go up to my room?”  With a shy giggle and a playful punch to Jolly’s arm, Sam agrees. 

Jolly opens the door of his room with a sweeping gesture of his arm, “Welcome to my crib.” His husky tone turns into a snicker when Sam smacks him in the arm as she steps by.

“You’re a dork,” she huffs a laugh as she enters the room. 

“I know,” he winks at her before threading his fingers to hers and leading her further into the room. There’s a large white bed against a navy blue accent wall and across from it hangs a flat-screen TV. An L-shaped couch fills the space under the window next to the bed. 

“This is where the magic happens so make yourself comfy, Sam. There’s water and booze in the mini fridge and the TV remote is on the bedside table. I’m going to take a quick shower.” She makes a small noise in understanding but doesn’t move from the window as she takes in the view of her small hometown. The shrill of the tap turning on pulls her from her nostalgia so she makes her way to the bed. She steps out of her beloved Converse, settles into the covers, and starts to scroll through the TV guide. 

Loud knocking stirs Sam awake. Rolling to her side, something digs into her stomach. Her eyebrows scrunch together when she finds the remote strangled in a death grip. Way to go, Sam, you fell asleep clutching onto the remote, like an old grandpa. 

Groaning, she slides out of bed and stretches rubbing her neck. Fuck me. I’m going to need to see my chiro on Monday. I hope she can squeeze me in. God, I hope Jolly doesn’t think I’m lame. Wait, did we kiss-

“You’re awake!” Jolly’s bright voice breaks through Sam’s post-nap brain fog. When she turns her head following the sound she gets lightheaded. Swaying slightly, she grips the arm of the couch and settles herself onto the furniture, hoping Jolly didn’t notice. If he did, he was gracious enough not to say anything as he continued. “The guys are heading out to see a movie, want to come?” 

“Sure!” she says without hesitation, ecstatic to spend more time with Jolly. But soon insecurity takes its rightful place in the pit of her stomach. “But let me fix my hair real quick,” she rushes by him, nerves bubbling in her stomach– but when Jolly grips her wrist, it’s not forceful, but just enough that she stops dead in her tracks. The setting sun casts a warm glow on Jolly’s long brunette hair forming a halo of light around him. 

“You look beautiful, Samantha.” Jolly takes a step closer closing the space between them. He tucks in a lock of hair behind her ear before brushing the pad of his thumb over her cheek. Sam feels her cheeks warm to the delicate touch and finds herself leaning into him. Looking up at him, his expression is soft- the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles at her. She sneaks a glance at his lips and back at his eyes hoping he didn’t notice. She wants him to kiss her, wants to feel more of his touch, wants to feel love again– but her old heart is so scared. Her heartbeat pounds in her ears as Jolly leans down, willing her eyes shut she balls her shaking hands into fists. “Stay”, she tells herself “don’t run.” His hot breath is warm against her cheek. Her heart feels like it’s going to burst from her chest– suddenly she jumps when there’s a knock at the door.

“Hey lovebirds, you two ready?” Noah yells from the other side of the door. Sam’s cheeks flame red at the nickname and she curls into herself overcome with shyness. 

“He’s an ass, isn’t he,” Jolly chuckles squeezing Sam’s shoulders. Her small smile spreads into a wide grin, “yeah he is.” He pulls her into him and she unfurls her arms to hug him back. For a few breaths, they remain as her heartbeat steadies, the scent of him soothing her senses and her nerves. 

“Ready?” he hums as he twirls his fingers in her hair. 

“Yeah,” she says softly pulling from the embrace. This time she doesn’t stop herself from threading her fingers into his as they walk to the door. When the pair reach the lobby Sam finds the rest of the band lounging on various couches and chairs and Matt is pacing. 

“The Uber is late,” Matt groans pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ll drive!” Sam chimes in as she squeezes Jolly’s hand despite her insecurity still looming in the back of her mind. 

Matt stops dead in his tracks, “Are you sure?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, I'm sure,” she lets go of Jolly’s hand to walk past Matt. “Come on.” She waves over her shoulder for the band boys to follow her. Jolly meets up with Sam to open the car door for her. Before he ducks out he pecks a kiss to her cheek. She giggles as she settles in the driver's seat. 

“Alright boys, buckle up please.” She grins, looking up at the rearview mirror as Matt, Noah, Nick, Nicholas, and Bryan pile In.  A mutual groan rumbles through the car. “Yes mom,” they grumble and groan in unison. 

There are a scattering of families and couples in the theater as the pair stroll in behind the rest of the guys. Sam is about to slide in beside Nicholas when Jolly grips the back of her elbow causing her to stop. 

“Come on,” he nods his head to the top dark corner row of seats which happen to be vacant. 

Butterflies dance in her stomach as they ascend the dimly lit staircase. It’s impossibly warm when she sits down and Jolly follows suit, their knees brushing together when he hands her, her drink. Sam takes a few sips hoping the soda will quench her thirst and give her some relief; unfortunately, it does not. 

As the opening credits start, Jolly’s heart pounds in his chest as the opening credits start. He’s been waiting anxiously for this movie for as long as Nicholas has been ranting and raving about it. The one show all of them seemed to like and a tour favorite, so when Noah mentioned the movie, he could only hope that Sam would want to come too. In the corner of his eye, he sees her start to fidget with the popcorn bag nervously. Absentmindedly, he places his hand on her thigh as the scene starts.

Sam busies her hands by eating some popcorn, almost too aware of how she chews, she grips the bag a little tighter when suddenly Jolly’s hand rests on her thigh. Her body tenses to the touch. She wants to say something, to ask him to move his hand, but instead, she goes against every fiber of her being when she sets down the popcorn and places her hand on his.

“Oh, sorry,” Jolly jumps slightly when their hands touch, pulling his hand away. When Sam looks up at him, concern furrows his brows and creases the corners of his eyes. His eyes look nothing like her late husband’s and at this moment Sam has come to terms with it. She finally gives in to what her heart has been telling her all along. The pads of her fingers graze his cheek and for a few heartbeats, they exist in the space between them where nothing else matters. Her gaze drifts to his plump lips and back to his eyes. 

She nods, silently saying Yes! Please! I want to kiss you! Before pulling him in closer, their lips just barely touching. Sam squeezes her eyes shut and presses her lips onto his. When Jolly kisses her back, it’s soft yet cautious. She tilts her head, clasping his head between her hands to pull him in. A giggle erupts from her throat when his stubble brushes against her cheek, making Jolly pull away slightly. He puts a finger to her lips just as a nearby shh echoes from a few seats away. 

Jolly leans in, “I have a way to keep you quiet,” he whispers in her ear, his hot breath and suggestive tone send a shiver spider crawling down her spine. His lips ghost her cheek before replacing the finger to her lip. She invites the heat of the kiss, her hands gripping the collar of his shirt as his tongue parts her lips. When the pair are both breathless, he places a chaste kiss on her cheek. He kisses the tops of her knuckles before they find their resting place on his thigh. The world melts away in their soft embrace, hands entwined and hearts beating as one. 

Sam blinks a few times as her eyes adjust to the theater lights flickering on. Sure she has no idea what happened in the movie, but she couldn’t care less as long as she was next to Jolly. She doesn’t know what will happen next between them and right now she’s okay with that. Jolly gathers their trash and she follows closely until she can slide her hand back into his. When they reach the other guys outside, she spots them climbing into their Uber. Her stomach drops when the reality hits her that Jolly will be leaving too. She can’t help when a lump forms in her throat and her eyes prick with tears. 

“It’s time-” Jolly stops dead in his tracks when he spots the tears cascading down her cheeks. Before his feet step off the curb he turns and pulls her in tight, arms wrapping around her waist. 

“I got you,” he says low and calm as she starts to shake. “I don’t want this night to end either, Samantha. These last few days have been some of the best days on tour and I can’t thank you enough. This is not goodbye, ok?” 

He pulls back to wipe away her tears, caressing her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Smile, pretty girl,” he smiles when she giggles and pink washes over her cheeks. “We play only a few hours away tomorrow and I snagged you VIP if you want to come. I know it’s a school night but I still wanted to offer.”  

Sam doesn’t hesitate when she wraps her arms around his neck in excitement. She knows she will be dead tired come Monday morning-thankfully just an in-service day before the end of the school year- so she can show up a little late. 

“Yes, yes I’ll be there!” 

“I can’t wait!” Jolly leans down for one more kiss. “Good night, Sam.” 

“Good night, Jolly,” she says before kissing him back. She watches as the full moon illuminates his path to the others. She smiles to herself, smitten- a feeling she hasn’t felt in so long. 

tysm for reading and reblogging💜 dividers by cafekitsune💜

👑Royal Readers👑

@deathblacksmoke @mysticdoodlez @itsmrsfuentes @tearfallpixie

@cncohshit @circle-with-me @kingdomof-omens @cookiesupplier

@agravemisstake @iknownothingpeople @nerdraging4point0

@dominuslunae @xxrainstorm @ravieisunhinged @crimson-calligraphyx

@measuredingold @to-be-written @lacktoesandtoddlerants @koskeepsake @sitkowski

@collapsedglasshouses @snarkysolaris @itsafullmoon @measuredingold

@thatchickwiththecamera @broken0mens @baddestomens

Please show your support with a reblog! If you want to be a part of Royal Readers👑 (tag list) please fill out this form OR you can leave a comment // send me a DM - whichever you prefer💜

#jolly karlsson fanfiction #bad omens fanfiction #jolly karlsson fic #jolly karlsson fanfic #bad omens fic #bad omens rpf #jolly karlsson #joakim jolly karlsson #bad omens #jolly karlsson x ofc #jolly x ofc #30 days of bad omens #fic: scar #ladyveronikawrites

[innerslumber]

All right! It's a new year and I'm going to start it with an account name change!

mind-empty-heart-full is now innerslumber.

Hopefully this won't be too confusing for the friends! I am also changing my other social media accounts including my AO3 to this new name. Thank you and sorry for the inconvenience!

#switching gears from wanting a mind empty of all the pain and filling my heart with joy to seeking inner rest and peace #i still want to let go of the pain and fill my life with happiness but I'm also realizing that it's okay to take it slow #the journey is long and it's okay if i can't sprint through it #name change #blog change #innerslumber

[chuluoyi]

HAPPY MARRIAGE

- nanami kento x reader

“you don't deserve to be unhappy. and i don’t want to be unhappy, either.” you have always wondered where did you and kento go wrong. in the wake of your divorce, as you both returned to single lives, you and kento would come to realize what constitutes a happy marriage is... and it takes more than just love

genre: post-divorce angst, crack, misunderstandings, arguments, hurt/comfort, bestfriend!gojo is going to help your love life, and fluff in the end!

note: this fic... goes through a major change overnight after i was struck with a wholly different plot *sobs* and then i went through a major writing block for at least a week before i know what words i'm going to write :') anyways, this isn't really proofread so please forgive any typos to the anon who requested this and others, i do hope you'll enjoy it! tagging @tiredkitten as per request <3

listen to: today more than yesterday - kim jong kook

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

No divorce ever comes easy.

When couples enter into marriage, they do so with the dream of a lifelong bond filled with love and compassion. You too did once. And even until now, you still want that for yourself.

When you married Nanami Kento three years ago, you thought it was for eternity. He was your dream man, the only man you could see yourself with. He embodied everything that was just and righteous, and he was also kind man, who would always put you first, shielding you from any sort of harm.

Even if the source of that ‘harm’ turned out to be himself.

“You don't deserve to be unhappy. and I don’t want to be unhappy, either.”

Strangely, you didn't resent Kento that much, in the end. At that time, both of you had come to terms with it and you couldn't blame anyone. But now, six months later, as you sat in this shabby bar, downing shots of gin with your thoughts swirling in an alcohol-induced haze, your emotions were all over the place, and moreover, the presence of a certain clown before you was just particularly irksome, and you knew that he was someone you could blame—

“Gojo, you prick!”

Gojo raised one righteous eyebrow. "Who, me? Sorry, but I'm not your ex-husband?"

Gojo Satoru was the witness to several milestone in your life. Insufferable as he was, somehow you clicked with him ever since your early days as a jujutsu sorcerer. You remembered sending him your handpicked wedding invitation, having him celebrating your promotions, and then coming to him with tears running down your face in the middle of the night, telling him, “We are getting a divorce.”

"You!" you snapped, slamming down your glass of gin, whipping your head around to face the blindfolded idiot that was your longtime friend. Your index finger accusingly aimed at him. "This is all your fault!"

"Wha—"

"Because of you!"

"Okay, now it's clear that you're just too far gone—"

You hiccupped, your tone laced with fiery emotion. "If it weren't for you—if you hadn't been so adamant about setting us up back then—!"

Gojo grimaced. Ah, so this was the so-called drunken musings. While it was amusing to see his friend of 7 years in this state, even he couldn't deny how a tad bit pitiful you were.

"...then maybe," you started to deflate, eyes watering and lips trembling, sniffling. "I-I won't have to go through this..."

Correction, you were so pitiful you had no idea. But still, as a longtime associate, he couldn't bring himself to abandon you there, wallowing in your sorrows all alone.

He sighed and patted your back. "There, there... what about I introduce you to other guys, hmm? See if it'll lessen the pain away?"

You shot him a look so hateful despite your bleary vision. "No! Last time you did, it ended in a divorce for me! I refuse to let you turn me into a two-time divorcee!"

"I'm pretty sure your marriage is far from my business, I'm just your kind-hearted, handsome broker—"

"Bah! You— tasteless prick!"

You burped loudly afterwards and Gojo winced, and then you suddenly (and theatrically, he might add) slumped face-down onto the table with a thud, passed out in all your drunken glory.

And Gojo could only stare at you in somewhat disbelief.

. . .

He thought then, that you were definitely going to owe him one after this.

More often than not, throughout the past six months, Nanami also found himself thinking about you too.

Despite his calm exterior, separation with you didn't come easy for him. There was a reason he married you in the first place—he had loved you, and he too wanted it to last. You used to be the reason he went home on time each and everyday, the reason he eagerly anticipated spending his weekends with.

Everything had fallen apart before either of you realized it. Some disagreements suddenly spiraled into lonely nights, no updates during longer missions, your tears, and then ended with both of you filing the papers in the city hall to end it all.

Six months ago, he thought he was final with his decision. He thought it was the best as he was faced with the sight of your tear-streaked face.

“Kento, I’m not asking m-much, am I?” you asked between sobs, wiping your tears harshly. “Aren’t w-we family? Shouldn’t we be doing a lot of things—together?”

Recalling that moment now, it tugged at his heartstrings anew. Yet, despite everything...

“I’m telling you, I know my limits—”

“Is that all you have to say? Don’t you know how sick with worry I am?” you ended up shouting at him, voice quivering. “Put yourself in my shoes and think: how can I possibly sleep at night, constantly fearing that my husband might—” your voice broke, fresh tears flowing freely. “—might not come back?!”

He was the one who backed away first, who made you lose all hope, and ultimately, placed the sentence upon you.

“If you don't have it in you to... then, perhaps it's for the best that we... just get a divorce.”

"Nanami-san, you okay?"

He looked up from the sizzling barbeque grill pan to his junior, Ino Takuma, who looked concerned as he flipped the meat. "You have been staring into space for a while..."

"I'm fine, Ino-kun." He looked down and grabbed the tongs, flipping his side of beef.

Ino let out a sympathetic sigh. "Honestly, lately, you seem down."

Words he was holding back were "ever since your divorce", but Ino was pretty sure his senior understood the implicaton.

Nanami hummed. "Sometimes life just doesn't go as swimmingly... I'm fine."

Ino never really knew you that well and was curious. In fact, he was so very curious. When it comes to Nanami Kento, everything he does and has done is always with justified and sound reason, but he might be biased because the 7:3 sorcerer was his role model.

It might verge on invading his privacy, but—

"They said... Gojo-san was your matchmaker back then?" he went through with the question anyway, testing the waters. "I don't mean to pry, but I just thought it's cute."

To Ino's surprise, Nanami's lips curled into a small smile. "It's fine, Ino-kun. I think it has become common knowledge by now. Yeah... he was."

"For you to have fallen for someone who was Gojo's acquaintance... it speaks volumes about how charming Y/N is."

"Mmm," he nodded slightly as he indulged in the grilled meat. "She is."

"Nanami-san." Okay, Ino was starting to think that he wouldn't be getting his point across if he went the roundabout way. He would shoot it straight then. "I don't mean to patronize you... but if you're really that miserable, then I think you should go back to her and talk things out, no?"

Nanami put down his chopsticks and let out a soft sigh, making Ino to immediately regret his blatant suggestion.

"Before arriving at such a difficult decision, of course we did try to discuss some things," he explained, his gaze meeting his calmly. "I don't take matters like divorce lightly, Ino-kun."

"But still... now—"

To drove the point home, Nanami chose to vocalize the conclusion that still left a bitter taste in his mouth to this day:

"She is unhappy with the way things are, and I have to come to terms with the fact that I can't provide what she needs."

Ino's gaze fell in dejection. "Nanami-san..."

Nanami chuckled fondly. “I appreciate your concern, Ino-kun. Thank you.”

In front of his junior, he could maintain composure and narrated the collapse of his own marriage as if he were a mere spectator. But in his heart of hearts, Nanami Kento wasn’t at all the stoic man he made everyone believed he was—the fact that he had failed to give you the life of happiness he promised on the day he proposed to you still stung him to this day.

It hurt him, but echoing your words, he couldn't subject you to a marriage that felt like a dull cohabitation with little understanding.

“We never really talk anymore, do we...? We never really work on our problems too. Kento, lately, I feel like... things have changed.”

Suppose what he had to do was letting you go now.

It was easier said than done, because when Nanami saw you the next day at the school—this being the first time in several weeks—he almost couldn’t keep his cool.

"Ichiji, don't be too stiff!" you slapped the poor guy in the back with a giggle. "It's just me, it's been a while!"

You didn't look much different than the last he saw you—still the chirpy self he unwittingly fell in love with, staying on top of the latest fashion trends and all. Yet, there was definitely something different about you, something he just couldn't quite identify...

And then those cheerfulness deflated when your gaze met his, eyes widening as you tried to get your bearings. "Oh—h-hi, Kento."

That's too forced. It was so unnatural that made him almost wince.

"Hello." But the tremble in his voice, too, betrayed him. "Have you been well?"

You shifted your gaze away from him, and right before you answered, you let out a cough, and that was when he spotted it: you looked kind of pale.

"I'm fine."

"Oh, that's good then."

Silence. This was the absolute worst.

Nanami exhaled. It was you he was talking to, his ex-wife. He knew you inside out—or at least, he used to. He knew you didn't like this dryness as much as he did. He had to say something.

He braved himself. "Are you here for a mission?"

You looked at him in slight surprise. "Oh... yeah."

Darn it. Another dry reply.

"There... is a cursed totem in North Tokyo," you elaborated, not really looking at him. "Gojo's out from tomorrow until next week. I'm substituting for him to assist the first years."

"Are you sure you're up for that?" Nanami found himself asking before he could stop. "I mean no disrespect, but you look a bit pale."

"I am," you snapped, leaving him surprised. It was as though he had unintentionally struck a nerve, quickly turning your mood sour. "I'm fully capable of handling this, Kento."

"Please, I don't mean to upset you. I'm just..."

Worried about you. Somehow his throat closed in, it didn't really feel right to say that now.

"—I know how rash you can be." He regretted his words as soon as they were out.

It was clearly a bad choice of words as you took offense, your expression quickly turned into one of disdain.

"How rich... that it's coming from you," you scowled.

Memories of your failed marriage flooded your mind's eye. The long nights your ex-husband didn't bother to leave you a message. How he would return home with wounds and blood staining his clothes. And now... he had the nerve to insinuate that you were the reckless one?

"I can take care of myse—"

"That's a whole load of bullshit!"

Good grief. Why must Gojo pick this exact scene to show up?

The blindfold took big strides and halted between the two of you, pointing one finger in your face.

“Last night, she got wasted. Like totally wasted! She could barely walk straight afterwards and then she had the audacity to blame me! Me! For all her mess! Goodness, I’m just a very chivalrous friend and yet—”

"Shut up!" you were horrified, face flushed with embarrassment. "Gojo, you complete jerk!"

Nanami wouldn't admit it, but there was always something between you and Gojo Satoru that made him a bit uncomfortable, even way back when the two of you were still married. Perhaps the closeness, the candidness you shared. He knew you wouldn't harbor anything for someone as elusive as Gojo Satoru, but still, it remained an uncomfortable sight for him.

Like there was nothing pleasant about knowing Gojo Satoru was the one taking care of you in your drunken stupor. You shouldn't have in the first place. If it were him, he wouldn't let you hurt yourself. If he were still the one by your side—

Despite himself, thoughts like that swirled in his mind far often than he would've liked.

Suddenly, the air felt stifling. Nanami didn't like this at all, and even as you two were still harmlessly bickering, he chose to leave.

"Oiii, Nanami!"

He had barely left the room when the person he disliked the most emerged from the door, following closely behind him. Gojo evidently knew what his thoughts were. As irritating as he was, the bloke was smart, he wasn't the strongest for nothing.

"Na-na-mi! You can't just leave like that! We're going to have lunch together—"

"Gojo-san," Nanami stopped in his tracks and let out an exasperated sigh, throwing the white-haired idiot a glare so hard it would curse him if only glares could. "Please stop bothering me."

“How cold-hearted,” the blindfold replied in a mocking scoff. “No matter how, she was once your wife. How could you not care one bit?”

“We have gone on our separate ways, and if she is good with the way things are, then so am I.”

What a lie. He still couldn't help but to care. If you ever needed his help in whatever way even now, he would still move heavens for you.

“And that’s where you’re wrong, Nanami,” Gojo suddenly interjected in a less playful manner. “She is really missing you, you know.”

But you had your best friend by your side, didn't you? Someone perfect, without equal. Surely, you wouldn't need him anymore.

Gojo raised an eyebrow. "How are you so sure that she's good with the way things are?"

"What exactly is she not good with?"

"Everything? You never ask her."

This was getting irritating, and before Nanami really lost control over himself, he finally drew a line.

"Gojo-san, I'm tired of people assuming things about our current relationship," he said, leveling a piercing look at him. "We are both adults. We reached the decision to separate because we both know why. If this is your way of showing concern, then thank you—but I'd prefer if you didn't interfere any further. We're handling this just fine, and by all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore."

With that, he left. Even when he wanted to stay longer with you, even when, in his wildest dreams, he wanted to rebuild everything with you again—

He knew you were there, hearing all of this.

Gojo clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. "Grr... You're so stubborn..."

. . .

There was a reason why you went to the school. Yaga's sudden request and of course, the chance to see Nanami again.

But when your conversation ended in a bitter note and he walked away, a part of you plunged into instant panic, compelling you to eavesdrop on his conversation with Gojo.

But as expected from you cool ex-husband, he was all rationale and logic.

By all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore.

Nanami would think so, wouldn't he? And he wouldn't be bothered either.

You shouldn't have expected more. This was no television drama in which the couple would get back together that easily. You were living in the harsh reality of jujutsu world, which basically, was the cause of your divorce in the first place.

At one point, you found it all to be exhausting, but upon reflection, it was more painful to acknowledge that he never truly fought to keep you by his side.

Tears welled up in your eyes unbidden, and you walked away quickly, brushing them away.

This is it. There is no use hoping anymore.

If you weren't on missions, then you'd likely be drinking. This had been the undeniable truth over the past few weeks.

Gojo found both you and Nanami to be irritating. The way both of you would evade each other was just plain stupid by this point, since it was clear to anyone with eyes that you were still not over each other.

"Nanami! Why don't you join us for dinner tonight!"

And since you were such an irritable drunk, he chose to keep poking the easier target.

Nanami shot him a scathing look, definitely done. "I have a prior appointment. Goodbye."

"Hoh?! But! They'll have free drinks!"

For the life of him, Nanami just wanted to go back home. He had minus interest in free drinks and even less in Gojo himself, and he would make his points clear.

"For the last time, I'm telling you, I don't want any part in your—"

Ring! Ring! Ring!

"Ooh, wait a minute, Nanamin! I got a call!"

Nanami gritted his teeth in pure annoyance. He truly didn't care about his call and seized the chance to walk away quickly, eager to flee.

Until—

"Hello? Yes. Yes... what? Huh— Y/N is rushed to hospital?"

...and that caused him to halt abruptly. Suddenly, his entire body went rigid, as if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water.

You're hurt?

"I mean why—the hell? Severe bleeding?!" Gojo's voice dramatically rose, seemingly in surprise. "Whoa, uh, traffic accident?!"

Within seconds, everything as he knew it came to an end. He spun around, yanking the phone from Gojo's grasp, indifferent to whether it caught the latter off guard or not.

"Which hospital is this?" he demanded from the person on the other end, his voice rough and harsh. Suddenly, the fog in his mind dissipated, and he was consumed by panic.

"I'm sorry, sir, that's not—oh, it's Tokyo General Hospital—"

"Thank you." Nanami shoved the phone back to Gojo and broke into a sprint, in search of taxi.

At this moment, everything was a plethora of chaos—his surroundings melded into a blur, the constant honking of nearby vehicles echoed in his ears, and the relentless pounding in his chest threatened to overwhelm him. Nothing else held any significance. Nothing, except you.

Why did you get hurt? How did you even get into a traffic accident?

This was maddening. His world was falling apart hard and fast. The beginnings of heartbreak, stirring and churning in the depths of his stomach, once again threatened to drown him whole—

To others it may seem laughable that he was this shaken over an ex-wife, but precisely because you were his ex-wife was why he was running through the streets of Shibuya, opting not to take the cab as the traffic jam was at its peak.

Oh, how Nanami regretted it. He regretted a multitude of things; those long nights, silent treatments, your tears, divorcing you. If he could turn back the time, he'd do anything in his power to prevent that divorce from ever happening. He'd treasure you better, he'd make time for you more—

Because what if, now you were really slipping away from him for good? What if, he would never see you ever again?

Within minutes, he arrived at the said hospital, haggard, spooking the nurses, demanding your room number.

Thank heavens that the visiting hour wasn't over yet. He marched towards the said room, all of his logic and rationale flying out of window as he threw open the door.

And then he saw the pristine bed, IV drip, and you—

Sitting upright on the bed, turning a page of a magazine, your eyes widening and blinking at him in complete confusion—

Huh, what?

The last thing you would expect after waking up in the hospital was your ex-husband barging in unannounced, looking as though he'd just survived a whirlwind.

"Kento...?" you almost squeaked, taken aback at the sight.

His hair was a sweaty mess, his usually immaculate suit was crinkled and his tie was loosened, but it was the look in his eyes that grabbed your attention—as if expecting the worst.

“Are you alright?” he grounded out, approaching you in deliberately slow steps. “How long has it since you woke up?”

“Um... yes? Since about an hour or so.” You frowned. “Kento, what are you doing here?”

“They said you have severe bleeding, involved in an accident—”

“What! No! Did the hospital reach out to you?” you felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought. “I was sure I have removed you from my emergency contacts—”

“Gojo did—”

Suddenly, understanding dawned on him, and he cursed under his breath. “That rotten bastard!”

You blinked, unsure of what he meant at all. To his credit, Nanami didn’t dwell long on his thoughts and faced you once again with another fresh batch of confusion. “Wait, Gojo is your emergency contact? Why?”

“Should anything happen to me and a payment is required to settle it, he can handle the bills first?”

If Nanami didn’t look exasperated before then he sure did now. “Y/N… you…”

He released the deepest sigh imaginable before settling onto the sofa, further tousling his hair and removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.

“Did you know I ran to get here because I thought something bad happened to you?” Nanami stated in a strained voice.

Why did your heart skip a beat? Why was Nanami suddenly playing the part of a concerned husband when the time for it has long passed?

Feeling suddenly irritated, you rolled your eyes. “I just passed out due to high blood pressure. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” his eyes squared on you, quiet anger behind them. “In what sense does you passing out ever ‘not a big deal’? What have you been doing?”

"Why does that even matter to you still?" you contested. "You were the one who said everyone should stop linking us together by now."

"Y/N, you're missing the—"

"You divorced me!" you screamed, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as the urge to cry threatened to consume you. "You... h-have divorced me, Nanami Kento!"

Nanami felt as if a blade had pierced and twisted his chest at the sight of you—your quivering form, the stifled sobs. He had never wished to see you in such despair again.

"So why!" you finally broke down and sobbed. "Why did you play the caring husband now? Why not before? Why do you keep toying with my feelings...?"

"I'm not." Nanami grunted, getting up and approaching your bed. "I never meant to. That was never my intention. I never—"

"Then what!? What are you doing? Why did you throw me out just like that and why now—"

"Believe me when I said that I never want you to be miserable!"

You halted mid-rant, eyes wide as you gazed at him. Blinking, you felt a tear roll down your cheek. It was the first time Nanami had ever raised his voice at you. Even in the past, he never had.

But suddenly, a sharp pain pierced through your abdomen, causing you to instinctively clutch it. You whimpered, a nearly involuntary squeak escaping you, feeling the intense burn inside.

Nanami immediately got a hold of your hunched form, alarmed. "What is it? What hurts?" When all you could manage were pained sniffles in response, he swiftly hit the nurses' button and enveloped you in his embrace.

"Hold on," he comforted, placing a hand over where you clutched your abdomen, trying to offer some relief in any way. "They'll be here soon, don't pass out!"

"Mmngh," you gripped his hand in response, squeezing it as you slumped into his chest. For the first time in six months, you were enveloped in his warmth once again, and despite everything that had transpired, you were deeply moved by his gesture.

It took seeing you in such distress to dispel any doubts Nanami may have had. You were so petite against him, so delicate as you squirmed amidst your tears.

Had you experienced pain like this in the past six months? The thought made his heart lurch. Did no one comfort you at all?

. . .

And that was when he decided it.

He never, ever wants to see you in any sort of pain, ever again. And should it happen, then he'll be the one staying by your side, just like this.

Alcoholic gastritis. You consumed so much alcohol that it irritated your ulcer and causes a really painful tummy ache.

You could feel Nanami's judging gaze on you as your attending doctor explained your predicament. Truth to be told, you were quite ashamed. Your unhealthy lifestyle were laid bare before your ex-husband and it made you feel like a kid being scolded for misbehaving.

After the doctor left, Nanami sighed and pulled out a chair next to your bed. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah..." you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "Sorry, that... you have to see that."

But thankfully, he was unflappable as ever. "Nothing to be sorry about. It's fine."

You were kind of embarrassed of your outburst earlier too. While you didn't regret expressing your feelings, you pondered if could've done it in a less confrontational way.

At this point, you'd accept anything. Even if Nanami told you off after this—

"Let me continue from what I was saying earlier," he suddenly began, catching your attention. You perked up, and looked at him expectantly.

Nanami released a deep sigh, and the words he spoke next were ones you never thought you'd hear from him again.

"Did you remember what I said when I proposed our divorce?" he asked, somewhat rhetorically. You wordlessly nodded, because it was one of the lines that made you unable to hate him completely.

"I said, you don't deserve to be unhappy." Nanami looked you right in the eyes, undaunted. "And that still stands until now."

Now fully engrossed in his words, the rhythm of your heart intensified, echoing in your chest.

"It wasn't a decision I blurted out lightly. I know you're hurt, because I am too. I married you with a reason. I have loved you. and if you were to ask me now, my answer would be the same—I am still in love with you."

Why did it feel like your vision was beginning to blur once more?

"But," Nanami's face contorted into a frown, gazing hard at you. "If staying with me is what makes you miserable—if waiting nights after nights, hoping I can make it each time haunts you so much—then I'm more than willing to release you from that burden. I don't want to subject you to that life."

Warm tears slid down your cheeks. Sniffling, you averted your gaze, looking downwards.

"Look, I make you cry again," he sighed, a mix of fondness and sadness in his voice, as a bitter smile graced his lips. One of his thumbs gently lifted your jaw, while the other tenderly wiped away your tears.

"Kento, I—" you quickly looked up, swallowing the lump in your throat. You had made up your mind. "I don't want you to leav—"

"I know," he cut in, his voice solemn, as he stroked your tear-streaked cheeks. "I know, and that's exactly why I'm going to say what I'm about to say next."

And with his next words, your heart burst into complete, utter warmth—

"Let's start over." Nanami Kento's voice was your lifeline, anchoring you and keeping you afloat. "We can take our time. There's no rush—we can return to how things were in the beginning. And when you're ready, then and only then... will I ask you to marry me again."

The one person who has your heart in his grasp, someone whom you are willing to care way more than yourself... You were openly sobbing now and yet a radiant smile broke through your tears.

There was only one answer you had in mind.

Five years later

"Yes! Yes! Yay!"

Today was sunny, just like the day of your wedding. Memories flooded back as you glanced at the grand wedding portrait in the foyer, a snapshot of yourself and your husband in blissful celebration.

A smile tugged at your lips as you stared at the gentle smile on Kento's face amidst his typically stiff posture. You remembered his vows to you.

The one person who I will look for the rest of my life... is you. I have never met someone so important and precious to me that it hurts.

The sound of a car pulling up snapped you out of your reverie. Oh, he's home.

As you opened the door, your smile grew even broader, until a small figure darted past you at such speed that you were left gawking.

"Daddy!" your daughter's voice rang out with pure delight, leaping into your husband's arms the moment he swung the car door open, catching him off guard.

"Oh my, why are you so sweaty?" Kento inquired, scrutinizing your daughter with a puzzled frown, yet holding her close. "I thought we're going to the playground after this?"

"She's so excited for it that she keeps running and jumping around all the while," you chimed in with a gentle sigh, affectionately ruffling your daughter's hair as she beamed up at both of you.

Before long, the three of you set off to the playground, fulfilling the promise you had made to your daughter. As she entertained herself with the slides, Kento's low chuckle drew your attention. "What's so funny?"

"She takes after you a lot, you know," he remarked, a fond smile on his face. "The way she is just full of energy."

"Really? But sometimes she'll get this wrinkly little scowl on her face when she's annoyed—she looks like you then."

"Wrinkly...? No, surely I don't have that many wrinkles yet..."

Your laughter filled the air, a testament to the joy found in these simple, everyday moments.

Unexpected moments of joy, the comfort of family, and a love that had grown and evolved, stronger and more resilient with time...

And this, is what you'd call a happy marriage.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #kento nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader angst #nanami kento x reader fluff #nanami kento x reader angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader fluff #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento angst #jjk #nanami fluff #nanami kento #jjk angst #jjk fluff #kento nanami #kento nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[safetypinxtales]

400 years | Azriel

summary: drinking with your best friend takes a turn when you happen upon some of Feyre's art supplies.

words: 3.2k

warnings: steamy 18+ mdni, nudity, sex is insinuated but not described, kissing, alcohol consumption (drink responsibly), reader and azriel are drunk, making out, big dick azriel, fluff, no use of y/n, neutrally described reader/no reader description

notes: happy valentines day, here's some azriel for youuu🤍 I got the inspiration for this whilst reading this fic by @solbaby7 bc who wouldn't want to draw az like one of your French girls?? Frankly there is nothing I would like to do more. Their fic is amazing and you guys should totally check it out if you haven't already! Anyways, I'm sorry for the "shut the door" type ending, but I cannot write smut to save my life so this will have to do. Hope you enjoy!🤍

masterlist

Thud.

The sound of Azriel accidentally smacking his head on the wall as he plopped down on the sofa across from you echoed within the walls of the cabin, and you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. Azriel’s own shaking shoulders and scrunched up nose let you know that he couldn’t help it either. 

But that was to be expected wasn’t it? The past hour had been filled with nothing but bubbling laughter from the both of you, giggles from Az, and some very graceful snorts… also definitely from Azriel. 

The reason why he had brought you to Rhys’ cabin in the mountains was long forgotten after the two nearly empty bottles of alcohol on the table in front of you. The heartache of getting stood up on your date earlier that evening buried under a considerable amount of drinks. 

“As long as the glass is never empty in between refills, they don’t count.”

Azriel’s words from earlier came back to you, only fuelling your cramp inducing giggles. 

That had always been your motto in times like these. A consistency that had lasted centuries. 

“I can’t breathe,” you wheezed out in between fits of hysteria, your arms coming up to wrap around yourself. But your laughter didn’t die down, and neither did Azriel’s. Your uttered words only seemed to fire him on as he tipped over on his side, hand landing a slap on the armrest.

Seeing him like this, so free and relaxed, was rare. You could probably count each separate occasion on your hands. He only really let go like this when you needed it. When the urge to drink your walls down and flush the pain away seemed like the only remedy to whatever situation you were dealing with.

It was a very rare occurrence indeed. But one of your favourites. 

Azriel’s carefree giggles, that luminous light in his eyes; you swore it could make budding flowers bloom.

You sat up straight, and the situation stopped feeling so funny as you laid eyes on Azriel’s still laughing frame. The uncontrolled giggles, and the way his wings shook in time with his chest. It was enchanting, the sight of your best friend being so relaxed, so happy. 

The shadows that were usually crowding his frame were nowhere to be seen – with the exception of the lone swirl of darkness slowly snaking its way around your wrist, coming down to entwine with your fingers every now and again.

It took a couple more minutes until Azriel’s laughter had finally seized. You both sat on separate sofas, smiles stretched wide and eyes glazed over from the alcohol you had ingested, and as your breathing started to return to normal a thought struck.

“What?” Azirel asked as he leaned forward on his elbows, a curious glint in his eyes. 

“What?” You prodded back, more confused than curious, blinking a few times to try and rid the alcohol-induced veil that surrounded you. What was he on about? 

“Well,” he waved one floppy hand in your direction, “you just perked up, it was like you grew ten inches,” he exclaimed, before continuing in a slightly lowered, bemused voice, ”and that means you just had one of your ideas.”

The corners of your mouth quirked upwards as you slowly nodded your head. He was right – you had come up with an idea.

“Well, I was just thinking about how Feyre mentioned after the last time she was here,” you stood up from your seat, swaying slightly but quickly finding your balance, doing your very best to not bump into the table separating you. “Something about forgotten art supplies.”

Like a predator sighting a prey, Azriel’s interest piqued in a moment. His razor sharp focus was on your every step as you walked towards the supply closet at the other side of the room. 

The closet was unusually dusty, a strange thing for being Rhysand’s property. He was usually very meticulous when it came to things always being spotless and presentable. But you supposed that a small, rarely used supply closet in the family cabin wasn’t a priority of his. Keeping it clean was not a good enough use of his magic. 

Luckily for you, that just made your quest easier. You just had to look for whatever was covered in the least amount of dust bunnies.

“Aha!” You whipped around to face your friend, triumphantly displaying the sketch pad and charcoals in your hands. 

Azriel’s eyebrows shot up at your revelation, grin still present on his beautiful face.

“That’s your big idea? Drawing?”

“You should know I used to be quite the whiz with the charcoals when I was younger,” you rebutted and Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. 

“I have seen your penmanship, so I will believe this talent of yours when I see it,” he muttered and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer audacity in his words. Your penmanship was not that bad.

Taking a few steps back in his direction with a huff, you flipped through the sketch pad in search of an unused sheet of parchment. You were gonna show him, alright…

You couldn’t help but admire Feyre’s old sketches as you went through the pages. Some you recognised as early-version sketches of paintings you had seen around the river house, and some were–

“Oh!” Your fingers froze as your eyes landed on what seemed to be an anatomical study. A very detailed, very beautiful, anatomical study of – oh my Gods. You felt your cheeks heat up. 

“Is that Rhysand?!”

At the screech in your voice and the mention of his brother’s name, Azriel shot up off the sofa to get a peek at whatever had managed to pull such a reaction from you. 

The warmth of his body radiated into your side as he peered over your shoulder at the drawing of the very naked high lord. 

You noticed him stiffening out of the corner of your eyes and then, like a tether snapping, laughter started to boom inside the walls of the cabin. With a steadying hand on your shoulder he doubled over in giggles so contagious it didn’t take long before you joined in with his hysterics. 

“No way,” he wheezed, “oh Gods – I can’t wait to tell Cassian!” 

The mere thought of how Cassian would react to such a revelation, the look on his face, had you clutching your stomach. Poor Rhys would never hear the end of it.

And by the cauldron, if you don’t wake up with rippling abs tomorrow from the amount of laughter this night had brought….

“You can’t blame her though,” you mused once you managed to get your giggles under control, “I mean, nice job Feyre.” A low whistle left you as you peered down at your clearly blessed high lord.

The laughter quieted down beside you and you raised your gaze to look at Azriel, only to be met with an incredulous look. 

“What, I’m just calling it as I see it!” You exclaimed and raised your hands in defence, charcoals and disrobed Rhysand still in your grasp.

His eyes flicked down to the sketch pad, before slowly coming back up to meet yours, that look never leaving his face.

“Oh, please.” 

The words fell from his lips with such cool confidence your smile faltered momentarily, eyebrows knotting together.

“You can’t be serious?” He asked, and when you stayed quiet he continued, “that’s nothing.”

Nothing?

From where you were standing, respectfully, it looked like everything.

“What? Like you can do better?” 

Your challenge seemed to light a spark in his eyes and time slowed as he took a step backwards, fingers coming down to grip the hem of his t-shirt.

One swift movement and his shirt was off, muscles rippling under his bronzed skin as he tossed the dark fabric on the floor, his eyes not once straying from yours. 

He kept backing up, step after torturous step, until his legs hit the sofa. The corners of his mouth tugged up in a smirk as he plopped down, arms behind his head, far leg propped up, large wings casually draped over the armrest.

“Draw me then, whiz,” he challenged, using your word from earlier, “let me be your muse.” 

The heat crawling up your neck, scorching the tips of your ears, were not solely from the liquor as you padded over to the opposite sofa. 

No, it was from something very different. Something strikingly sobering, yet oh-so intoxicating. 

You sat down and carefully placed the pad in your lap, flipping through it until you reached a blank page. You moved some hair out of your eyes and tucked it behind your ear, picked up a charcoal and brought it to the parchment – when you felt yourself hesitate. You took your lip between your teeth as you contemplated your next move. The risk. The absurdity. The excitement. 

He was your friend. Your best friend, and yet…

You lifted your gaze to find Azriel’s eyes locked to yours with such focus, such challenge. Like he was sizing up an opponent on the battlefield. 

His eyes flicked down to your hand, if only for a split second, as you gently put down the charcoal. He cocked an eyebrow when his gaze once again found yours. 

“I just,” you took a deep breath, “I just don’t think it’s really fair on Rhys, you know?” The shadow around your wrist flickered, as if sensing what you were about to do. The lines you were about to cross.

You watched as Azriel’s eyebrows drew together, and you fought the twitching of your lips as you continued, “I mean, you are still half clothed.”

With a slight shrug of your shoulders, you watched as your words sank in. How his eyes seemed to darken, the corner of his mouth raised in the smallest of smirks. 

“Is that so?” He mused, and you tried your best to level his stare. To not back down. Not shy away. 

With an incline of your head, you nodded. And watched his hand inch closer to his pants. Down past that dark trail of hair, to the laces tied together at the waistband. Watched as he grabbed a hold of the string… and pulled. 

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t focus on anything other than his hand. How his fingers untied the font of his pants so slowly, so delicately it felt like torture. You were transfixed by his fingers. Loosening the laces, his thumb slipping beneath the waistband…

You snapped your gaze up to his face, to find him still looking at you – studying you. 

Your breath hitched in your throat at the sound of his pants hitting the floor. With your eyes still locked to his, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you wondered what you had gotten yourself into. Here you were, in front of your fully naked best friend – about to draw him. 

Let me be your muse.

His words from earlier echoed in your mind as you tore your gaze from his face and dragged it lower, and lower, until…

Your head emptied. Your tongue felt about as dry as the beaches you had visited in Summer last year. Because the sight that beheld you was breath-taking. 

The length between his legs, standing aroused and proud, really did make Rhysand’s portrait look like nothing. 

A part of you had almost hoped that Azriel’s confidence had just been for show. That it was just his competitiveness shining through, a feat to best his brother. 

The reality?

Monstruos would have been a fitting word had the sight not compelled you so. Had it not caused you to burn for him. Crave him. 

Delicious seemed to be a better word to describe your friend. Beautiful. Mouth-watering. A thing of art.

Which is why you picked up your discarded charcoal and put it to the parchment. 

You studied the planes of his body, the hard lines, the soft skin. The muscles that could have been carved by the Mother herself. You avoided looking at his face though, instead focusing on the various scars that marred his skin, telling stories of battles and fights. Of brawls with his brothers. 

You felt him looking at you, however. He hadn’t stopped looking at you. Not since the sketch pad came into play.

It made it annoyingly hard to focus. 

The scratching sound of charcoal on paper stopped. 

“How long have we known each other?” Your voice wavered, mouth dry. You cleared your throat and raised your gaze to finally meet his. 

Azriel tipped his head to the side, contemplating, “about 400 years.”

400 years. And never before had you seen him naked. Not like this. Not splayed out like a feast, waiting to be devoured. Not with his gaze so burning you were afraid it was going to singe your clothes to ashes. 

“Right,” you mumbled, eyes flicking back down to your hands. They were smudged with soot, your thumb and index finger blackened, that lone shadow still curiously snaking around your wrist. 

That is a very long time.

Azriel seemed to notice how the little confidence you had faltered, for he straightened somewhat from his leisurely sprawl. 

“You okay?” There was only soft concern enveloping his words, a drastic change from the tension flooding the space between you just seconds before. 

It was a very long time, indeed. So why didn’t this feel wrong? 

You let out a deep breath, “yes, I think so.” 

Your answer apparently didn’t settle his worries though, because he raised from the sofa and rounded the table between you. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as he stopped in front of where you sat. 

Only when he lowered his hand – fingers coming to rest under your chin, tipping you face up – did you meet his eye. 

The heartbreaking concern written all over his face seized your heart. The soft furrow of his brow. The slight dip at the corners of his pouty lips. The brutal softness swimming in those hazel eyes. 

It took your breath away.

“Are you sure?” He questioned, voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t trust your voice, not with the vulnerable proximity between you. All you managed was a meager nod. A small up and down bob of your head. 

His fingers tugged on your chin, and as if in a trance, you followed the wordless command and rose to your feet. 

“I need you to use your words here, sweetheart,” his voice was soft, but the underlying command was undeniable, “please.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you swallowed and managed to breathe out “I’m okay.” 

That seemed enough to ease Azriel’s concern, a breath of relief fanning across your face. 

“Good,” he murmured, almost as if more to himself.

His eyes left yours, and flicked down. To your mouth, you realised, as his thumb moved from your chin up to graze your bottom lip.

That intensity was back in his gaze, that predatory focus – all directed at you. His thumb pulled at your lip before letting go, and the shudder that overtook your body could have made the earth shake.

There couldn’t be more than a foot of space between you. 

So dangerously close.

He was your friend. 

Right? 

“400 years,” you whispered, eyes flicking down to follow the bob of his throat as he swallowed. “400 years of friendship.” 

You felt light headed. 400 years, and all could be thrown away as easy as breathing. All you had to do was take half a step.

“Three,” Azriel’s voice grumbled above you as your eyes trailed down to inspect the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

“Hmm?” Your mumble was absent minded, your thoughts being too preoccupied by the male in front of you. What he would feel like. Taste like. The sounds he would make if you dipped your head and licked up the drops of sweat beading at the center of his chest.

“That’s how long I’ve loved you. Three hundred years.”

You froze. 

The thickness coating Azriel’s voice was not something you were familiar with. Nor were the words he uttered.

Your gaze snapped up to his, scanning his features for any sign that he was, for some reason, making the cruellest joke in all of Pythian’s history. But all you found was open, unguarded truth. 

Azriel loved you?

Azriel loved you. 

The rapid beating of your heart was a stark contrast to just how very safe you felt. How right it seemed to take that half step forward. To cradle his face in your hand, the other coming to rest on that glorious chest – right over his own heart. And as you felt that wild drumming beneath his ribs echo your own, nothing seemed as easy as rising up on the tips of your toes and slotting your mouth against his. 

The kiss was tentative, like the two of you were just dipping your toes in – testing the waters. You moved your lips against his, gently, savouring the feel of his pillowy lips. The feel of his body so close to yours. How the scent of him seemed to envelop you. You savoured how easily he took all of your senses hostage. 

He was everywhere.

The sound of Azriel’s wings rustling behind him, the rapid beating of his heart in his chest, the taste of liquor on his lips – it intoxicated you in a way you didn’t know was possible. 

You stayed like that, gently exploring each other's lips, savouring each other's closeness, until you had no other choice but to break away for air. 

You pulled away only a few inches, rapid breaths fanning your faces. The pounding of your heart didn’t seize, and neither did his. You could feel every rapid beat under the hand still planted on his warm chest. 

“Your heart is beating very fast,” you whispered, voice shaky from your breathlessness. 

He swallowed, “It is.”

“So is mine,” you revealed. 

“Yes, I can hear it.”

Oh. 

“Will you kiss me again?” Your voice was so low, you wouldn’t have known he heard you if not for the strangled sound he let out. 

Or for how he grabbed you by your waist and captured your lips with his. 

This time the kiss was less gentle. This time he pressed your body against his as he devoured you. It was all tongues, and teeth, and needy gasps.

His teeth pulled on your bottom lip and you thanked the Mother he was holding you so tightly, for your knees almost gave out. A throaty groan escaped you as his hand cupped the back of your neck, angling your head upwards and deepening the kiss further.

Your own hands found his hair – and pulled. The deep rumbling in his chest and the way he moaned your name into the kiss was your undoing.

This kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tentative.

It was claiming.

And so you let him claim you. 

Your clothes were quickly discarded as you laid down on the sofa, Azriel’s body on top of yours. And as you crashed together, entangled limbs and sworn promises, you let those 400 years of friendship, of tension, of longing dictate the start of this new chapter.

A chapter of what would hopefully be 400 years of something more.

Want to be added to my taglist?

tags: @missus-shadowsinger

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #a court of thorns and roses #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

We bleed together

a/n you want pain!? I'll give you pain. The person who requested this is responsible for the damage.

summary: what if the last day of humanity was different? What if instead of loosing Sarah, Joel lost you - the mother of his two children and the person who had built him up to a better man.

warnings: car crash, blood, injuries, wounds, death ahh I would say medium emotional damage

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

"And then one more", you spun around, making the baby giggle in your hands, "And one more", you twirled around, smiling to yourself as yet another giggle filled the still-empty kitchen. Emma was one giddy baby. For a five-month-old, she was extremely alert, her curiosity driving her to look around as much as she could. If only her body was strong enough, she would be crawling around day and night. Following Sarah around or any of you for that instant. Sarah barely left her side. You were worried at first about her reaction. Sure, you had been there almost from the start, helping Joel take care of her, and she was like your own daughter, but still. You had plenty of conversations about her biological mother. You understood her desire to know. To ask questions. To understand.

"She didn't want me, right? I was the problem", you were halfway through your pregnancy when this conversation surfaced again. Putting down the baby sweater that you were just folding, you motioned for Sarah to come in. She had become more avoidant once you started showing. The reality started to kick in, and it pained her that the baby was going to have a real and normal family.

"You were never the problem, my beam of light", you cupped her face lovingly, whipping away some of the tears that had started rolling down Sarah's cheeks. "But… she didn't love me like you love your baby", "Oh, Sarah", you pulled her closer to your chest, "I've loved you from the moment I saw you kicking around in that makeshift crib your dad had going on". Running your hand through Sarah's curls, you made her turn to you. "You've been my special girl since then. I love you and the baby the same. There are no differences to me between you two. Sure, you and I don't share DNA, but, like, who cares about that?", she shrugged her shoulders. Biting her lip as she tried to stop the tears. "You promise you won't leave?", Sarah crocked out, big brown eyes searching yours. It broke your heart so much, but you understood her. Her fear of losing a mother figure. Her dad needing to go through this alone again. You took both of her hands in yours, squeezing them, "I would never dream of it; you are my world".

Joel couldn't help the smile that spread across his face, especially once the baby caught sight of her father in the archway, kicking her little legs happily. The sudden burst of excitement made you turn your head to the side, "Ah, so dad is the one you get all happy for, huh", You nuzzled your face into Emma's neck, leaving endless amounts of kisses there and making her squeal happily. "She's a daddy's girl, aren't you?", Joel walked closer to you, hand reaching instantly for the smallest Miller. Emma's babbles filled the kitchen as she told her dad all the stories she could. "Honestly, rude. When both of our kids are like that", "Maybe I'm just more awesome", you let out a fake gasp, your hand coming up your chest. Joel smirked before giggling to himself. "No, sir, soon you'll be going to work without birthday sandwiches", you warned him, and Joel instantly lifted his free hand in the air defensively.

It felt surreal this morning for some reason. Joel had laid in bed awake for some time just thinking. Thinking about Sarah's mother. Thinking about you. About how his life had shifted once you stepped in. How much he valued the love you gave Sarah. How much he valued you going through a tough pregnancy to bring another baby girl into this world. Joel wondered if you knew. Knew how much he loved you. It wasn't just love. It was his whole existence. You were his rock, as he was yours. But he knew, Joel was convinced, that it was all thanks to you that he found purpose in life again.

"We can't have mommy mad", Joel mumbled to Emma, ticking her stomach. He moved closer to you while you were cutting up the vegetables. Leaning in to press a kiss on your shoulder, then another. Before a whole line of kisses was drawn from your shoulder up to your temple. You giggled, loving the slight tickle of Joel's beard against your skin. "I love you so much", Joel muttered, bringing you closer to his chest as his hand sneaked around your waist. You leaned back into him smiling, "Not as much as I love you, birthday boy", you cupped his cheeks, moving into Joel's embrace so you could place your lips on his. "The best mama ever", he muttered in between kisses, "And best wife to be", those words made your heart flutter a little. God, you loved this man, and you couldn't wait to be a Miller soon. You deepened the kiss just a little.

"Seriously? In front of a baby?", Sarah's voice made you two tear apart quickly. "You're officially out of the age to say ew when your parents kiss", Joel chirped, turning to his older daughter, who was rolling her eyes. "Yeah, but Em isn't, so don't be disgusting, right Em?", Sarah reached for her sister, whom Joel had carefully placed in her little high chair. Her little fist tightened and wrapped around Sarah's finger. You place the plates with food on the table.

"Tommy?", you ask, but Joel shrugged his shoulders. "Probably left early," strange, you thought to yourself as you slipped into the chair next to everyone. "So, how old are you again?", Sarah asked, mouth full of food. "Thirty-six", the girl shook her head, making you giggle. "Hate to break it to you, dad, but dippers are in the near future", she teased, but Joel only hummed, "Who said I ain't wearing one now?". Sarah let out a laugh, which Emma mimicked, making you smile. "Well, at least now I know why Em's diapers are disappearing", you said ž, making them both let out a laugh.

You wished you could freeze moments like this. Where you all were laughing. Where nothing bothered you all. "Don't forget to get the cake on your way back", you reminded Joel, who instantly hummed, "I will don't worry", he muttered, and Sarah sent him a warning look that he returned by leaning across the table to cup her cheeks and placing kisses all over her face. She squirmed in her dad's hands until she couldn't contain the laughter anymore.

Joel came back to a dark house. He wasn't expecting anything else, considering that he was three hours late coming back. He knew you would forget him for skipping his birthday dinner. It was Sarah, whom he knew must be upset. And letting her down was his biggest fear in life. Joel tried to move past the hallway as quietly as possible, stopping only when he noticed a light coming from the living room. Sarah was fast asleep with her head laying on your lap, your eyes were tired as you held Emma close to your chest. The light sounds of her suckling and the television playing were the only noise in the room. Joel couldn't help but smile slightly. He will never be able to get tired of a sight like this.

"Am I in deep shit?", you blinked a couple of times, shaking your head, "You can't even imagine Miller". Joel sat down next to you, lips instantly moving to kiss the side of your head, hand reaching to support Emma, who was happily eating, her tiny hand holding onto the pendant necklace that Joel had gotten you. It had four gold-plated letters. All the first letters of your little family's names.

"Don't overthink it. She'll understand eventually. Sarah wants your presence more than that cake anyway,", you reassured him, already feeling him slip into his mind. You knew Joel best. You knew how much he cared. The family was always first, and his working hours were so hectic just because he wanted to give you all the best. "I know. I will… I'll squeeze in a free day, and we can all just have a day to ourselves", Joel muttered, and you leaned closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Have I told you lately that you are the love of my life?", he asked all of a sudden, making you look back up at him. "Well, I would freaking hope to be", you teased him, moving to nuzzle closer to him once more. Joel let out a light chuckle, "But you have; you always remind me of that. Because you are the best fiancé and father ever", you muttered sleepily. Joel's warmth dangerously lulled you into a slumber.

The sound of what appeared to be a military helicopter flying over the house woke you up. You frowned, reaching over for Joel only to find his side of the bed empty. You quickly sat up, looking at the bassinet that stood by the side of your bed. Breathing out a sigh of relief when you saw Emma fast asleep there. Lights from outside were illuminating the room. It seemed like the search troops were out. What the heck was happening? The sight of a paper note caught your attention next. You picked it up quickly. It was Joel's handwriting on it: "Needed to go bail Tommy out. I'll be back as soon as I can. Love you, J.

The sound of footsteps approaching made you grab a book off your bedside table. Something was wrong, and you could just feel it. You could feel it deep in your gut. "Mom, dad", Sarah's voice filled your ears, right before another helicopter flew by. "Cone here, darling", Sarah threw the door open, rushing to you as she jumped onto the bed. "What's going on?", she asked, as your eyes fell over the window. "I don't know,", you muttered, "But daddy will be home soon, and we'll figure it out, okay?", You cupped her cheek tenderly, giving Sarah a light smile. You stood up and opened the wardrobe, pulling out a wrap-around carrier. Quickly draping it over your body, you leaned to pick up the smallest addition to the family, tucking her close to your chest. Now more than thankful that she was a deep sleeper, a gift from Joel.

"Come on, let's see if there's something on TV,", you said, reaching for Sarah's hand. The commotion outside only made the anxiety more and more intense. "Where is dad?", Sarah asked as you walked down the stairs. "He went to get your uncle". It wasn't the first time, so Sarah didn't ask any more questions. She knew it meant that Tommy had once again gotten into trouble. Something that made her dad rather frustrated most of the time.

All the channels were turned off, the only thing on TV was a warning. "Indoors, law enforcement and emergency services are in the area and will be in contact with further instructions", your hand was still holding onto Sarah when the sound of something hitting the window made you both jump. The barking filled your ears next, and you let out a shaky breath. Sarah instantly rushed towards the doors. "No, get back here", you called after the girl, but she was already opening the door, sinking to her knees as she petted the dog. "Easy, easy, Mercy. What are you doing out here, boy?", Sarah looked around the street, the chilly nighttime air hitting her cheeks. She moves to step closer to the street, but you were quick to hold onto her arm. "Get back inside," you said, "But what if ms. Adler…", she tried to argue, but your grip on her hand only tightened.

"I said inside", you tugged at her hand right as another person or whatever that was stumbled into the street. It twitched awkwardly before starting to dart in your direction. You moved Sarah behind you. "Go, go, go", you shouted before, pushing her into the house, closing the door behind you. Pressing all of your body weight against the door. Eyes closed as your body started to shake. Where was Joel? Where was he? The baby lets out a whine. Your hand instantly moved to rub up and down her tiny back, hoping to soothe her into sleep.

"Mom", Sarah calls out. You lifted your eyes to see her teary ones, instantly reaching for her, "Come here baby. We're okay", "What was that?". You pressed her to your side, kissing her head a couple of times. You wished you could answer, but you couldn't. "I don't know, baby, I don't know", you nudged her closer to yourself. Banging on the doors got louder, and a part of you was telling you to move to somewhere safer to at least get the girls safe. But you couldn't move. So crippled by anxiety. You just sat there with silent tears falling down your cheeks. Then a shot rang out, making you flinch. And then there was silence.

"Y/N", you let out a cry at Joel's voice that filled your ears from the other side of the door. Sarah was the one to stand up fist, quickly reaching for the handle, giving you just enough time to move slightly as she yanked the doors open. Joel stepped in, his hands reaching for Sarah instantly as he looked her over for any sign of injuries, "You're not hurt, baby girl?", he asked her. Sarah shook her head. "Dad, what's going on?", but Joel said nothing as his eyes fell on you. Crying on the floor, hands wrapped around your baby. He crossed the distance between you in a couple of steps. Kneeling beside you, "Joel…", you cried out, and he instantly brought your body closer to his, weary of the baby between you but making sure you could physically feel that he was there, "I've got you dove, come on, we need to move now".

Joel's arm moved to steady you from behind as he helped you up. Tommy was by Sarah's side, gun in hand, as he walked her towards the car. You barely made it down the front porch stairs as someone ran out of the Adler's house. You all froze in place, and Tommy hiked up the gun. "Get in the truck now", Joel roared, briefly turning to you and Sarah. But there was little time to think as the woman's body twitched and, with an unhuman-like growl, she started crawling towards you.

"What are we doing, Joel?", Tommy's voice rang out, but Joel didn't answer. With the tool in his hand, he swung his arm. He hit the old lady straight on the head, and her body fell to the ground. It was a split-second decision. A decision that had both you and Sarah staring at Joel because you had never… Never seen him this way. Never seen so much anger. Never seen this kind of violence. You didn't even know that Joel was capable of that.

"You killed her", Sarah whispered, pulling you out of your trance. Joel stepped to her, cupping her cheek, "Baby, I'm sorry", wrapping his arms around her, embracing her. "Joel, we need to move", Tommy said in a worried tone, now moving to grab your hands as he walked you toward the car. "You're okay?", he asked you as he opened the door, making sure you didn't hit your head. His hand lingered on his niece's back, her big brown eyes now staring at him. You nodded your head. What else were you supposed to do? "We'll get out of here", Tommy said firmly, rubbing his thumb on Emma's cheek. You turned to Joel and Sarah; he was still holding onto her. Her cheeks were stained with tears.

"Listen to me, it's not just the Adlers, but we need to be brave; we will get out of this together", Joel said to her before opening the door for her. An explosion rocked the street meters away from you. Both Miller brothers were quick to shield you, baby, and Sarah. Emma's cries echoed through the empty street now. You met Joel's eyes briefly. Eyes that were also scared. Worried eyes. "Let's go, guys, we need to go", Tommy jumped in the driver's seat before starting the car.

Sarah was silently crying beside you. Crying alongside Emma. You tried to soothe both of their fears, but with your anxiety being so high, you knew that you could try to hide it all you wanted - they could still feel it. The frantic driving and Joel's shouting at Tommy didn't help much. You pressed Sarah closer to you, her arm falling over Emma's body. You started to hum one of the lullabies. The lullaby that had followed Sarah through her childhood. The one even she sometimes hummed to her little sister if she took over the nap duties. "And in the darkest of nights, the stars shine bright above us. Sleep tight, little one; let the light calm you", you hummed softly. Rocking both of them in your embrace.

The world was falling apart. Houses were on fire. There was so much screaming. "What if it's everywhere?", Sarah muttered, looking up at you. "We'll find a safe place. Remember what your dad told you? We need to be just a tiny bit braver tonight", you said, meeting Tommy's gaze right as he looked up. A plane flew over the car. "The fuck", the younger Miller cursed while watching the ship sway in the sky. "Keep going", Joel encouraged his brother. His arms slipped toward the back. Joel's fingers were running up and down your calve. His way of grounding himself, of making sure that you knew he was there. That he still had this under control. That he was going to get you all out of here.

The chaos was like nothing you had seen before. The screams. The cries. People were running in front of cars. Hitting the sides as they fell. The streets were full. It all felt like a blur and the worst nightmare all at once. Sarah's grip on your hand was deadly. Your fingers had found Joel's hand as you leaned forward. Tommy started to move out of the street. You felt a tug on your hand. Sarah's eyes were gazing through the back window. "Dad" she whispered, "Dad!", this time the word came out more firm and loud. You only managed to see another airplane flying right at you. Then came the crash. The sound of static. Everything moved at lightning speed. You caved into yourself. Hoping to provide as much shelter for the infant with my body, and then everything went black for a moment.

Joel had never been more scared than the moment he crawled out of the car that was now lying on its roof and found your unconscious body covered in bits of glass and blood. Emma's cries soothed him almost; at least he knew she was alive. Sarah moved as well, and Joel let out a somewhat relieved breath. "Babe", Joel touched your leg, but you didn't move. He inched closer, dragging you out of the car by your shoulders. The moment Joel tugged on your hand, your eyes snapped open with a cry.

"Hey, I've got you", he tried to sound calm, but the sight of the blood trickling down the side of your face made him want to tear the whole world apart. Joel pulled Sarah out of the car as well before turning his attention to you. "Does something hurt?", "My shoulder, I think I…", you hissed when Joel's finger came in contact with your skin. "Give me, Em. Sarah, can you walk, baby?", Joel was loosening the carrier from around your body as he gazed at his firstborn. The girl nodded, and you ripped the side of the carry. Crawling toward Sarah and reaching for her ankle. "I'll wrap it tight, okay; it might feel uncomfortable, but you'll be able to move for now", "Mom, your head", she mumbled, fingers reaching for the blood, but you stopped her quickly. "It's nothing, darling. You focus on staying close to us, okay?"

Tommy came up from the other side, glancing over his shoulder. "The military trucks are here; you need to move; go towards the river; I'll meet you there", Tommy said, Joel rocked Emma in his arms as she screamed her little lungs out. She, too, felt the threat without the warmth of your skin. Tommy shrugged off his jacket, draping it over Joel, before helping you stand. "I'll see y'all there", he ushered you to move. "You stay safe", you said to him, and he only nodded. Regardless of his stumbles in life, Tommy was a good man. A loving brother-in-law. Someone whom you cherished. Cherished so deeply. But you couldn't let your sentiments get the better of you now. You needed to get your babies out of this mess. Get them somewhere safe. So you grabbed Sarah's hand, and so did Joel, and you all ran.

The river bank was practically a hand's reach away. Sarah was limping badly. You knew her leg was going to give up at any moment. You pulled her closer to you so she could lean more of her weight on you. Ignoring the pain that shot through your shoulder. Whispering words of encouragement to her. "Stop right there", a male's voice called out. Joel brought you all to a halt as the light from a gun darted onto your body. "We are not infected. My family got into a car crash", yet you could tell that the soldier didn't care about it whatsoever as he inched closer. "I have four civilians by the river. The female is covered in blood, girl limping", he said coldly into the radio, gun still pointed your way. "Please, we", "Shut up", the male roared, and you instantly pushed Sarah behind you. "Joel…", your hand held onto his forearm, but your eyes didn't leave the person in front of you. Something in your gut twisted. A sense of dread almost pulled you down.

"If something happens", "Y/N, don't…", you yanked at Joel's arm, firmly gaping at him. "You fucking take them and run", you muttered through gritted teeth. "Hey, no one told you to move", the soldier shouted, and you moved to face him again. The sound of your breathing was the only sound you could hear as your hand came up over Joel's hip, and you moved forward. The gunfire pierced the air. The echo was almost unbearable. Freezing. Static. Joel must have dragged you to the side after the first shot rang out, making you all tumble down the hill.

All Joel could hear was Em crying and a couple more shots ringing out. He needed to think quickly. He needed to come up with a plan. "Mommy", Sarah's shaky breath followed by a scream, was what got Joel to look up. And he wished he hadn't. He wished this was a dream. Maybe it was? His worst nightmare? What if he pinched himself? Make it all disappear. Make it all stop. "Joel", Tommy called out, reaching for the crying baby, and the moment the girl was out of his hands, Joel was moving towards you, falling over himself but moving to you.

"Hey, hey, love", he muttered. You had two gunshot wounds on both sides. The blood had already soaked your clothes. Sarah's had her hands pressed against your skin as she shook. "Listen to me, Y/N; I'll get you out; I'll make it", but you moved your hand up, gripping his arm. Lips pressed together as you tried to keep yourself from screaming in pain. You had to. For your girls.

Your eyes fell on Em in Tommy's arms; her bright pink cheeks were visible in the night. Your little angel baby. Your girl that you will never get to see grow up. She might not even remember you. You were going to be a distant memory. Just how Sarah's mom was to her. Sarah looked at the blood seeping through your skin. You reached for her, making her eyes snap at your face.

You pulled the last bits of your strength so you would smile at her, "I love you, sun-shine", you breathed out, and burning pain shot through your body, making you close your eyes. "Mommy, please. I… don't… please", she said, moving to wrap her hands around your neck. You breathed in her flowery scent, feeling your eyes burn with tears. Knowing very well that this was the last time you were going to feel her touch and smell her, "Let… mommy and daddy have a moment", you pleaded. Feeling your body starting to crash already. You didn't want her to see you fade away. No. The blood. Everything from tonight was already too much. She shook her head, but Joel grabbed her hands and moved them away from your blood, saying, "Go to Tommy, baby girl".

Joel, however, moved back to pressing down on your wounds for dear life. Even if he could tell, it was hopeless. He couldn't. He couldn't and was not about to let go. "Joel..", you cried out, and he instantly moved your body closer to his. Pulling you against his chest, "Don't go; don't die; you can't die", he croaked out, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. "Hold me", you whispered, feeling the metallic taste in your mouth getting stronger, "I'm here, love. I've got you", Joel pulled you even closer to him, savoring the last bits of your warmth. He hoped it would have been him dying here. It should have been because you three would have been fine with Tommy. But with you gone… What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to live?

"I lo-ve…", "I love you too; I love you so much", your grip on his arm started to loosen as your body shook. Joel got to meet your eyes one more time. He got to capture the depth and warmth of them that he knew he wanted to remember for the rest of his miserable life. "It's okay, it's okay", more blood poured from your mouth. Your big, worried eyes eased. Joel's rocking stayed the same. As if he were swaying you to sleep. As if you two were back home, back in your bedroom, and you had just had a bad dream. A bad dream that Joel was desperate to chase away. "I will always love you. There will never be anyone to replace you. My heart is yours; I'm bleeding with you, dove", he said through the tears.

Then you took a breath in. A surprisingly smooth breath in. Joel looked down at your face. And with a final exhale, your body let go, and the weight of you in Joel's hands told him loud and clear that you were gone. He looked up at the sky, at the stars that shone brightly despite the complete chaos. His body shook with a sob, a sob that guided your soul away from this world. A sob with which a part of Joel died. You took it as you went, and he was never going to be the same.

Tommy didn't rush Joel. Couldn't bring himself to. Sarah was crying with her head buried in her uncle's shoulder, and Emma's choking sobs followed suit. Joel held you till your body was ice cold. His eyes had dried, and he was staring ahead of himself, but he saw nothing. The same darkness that danced within his heart was now dancing all around him. He took your hand into his, carefully taking off the engagement ring from your finger before doing the same with the necklace. He needed something. He needed something from you that he could carry with him.

With you in his arms, Joel stood up. His legs were shaking, but he stepped forward. Tommy rose as well, "Joel, you can't… ", he tried to stop his brother. He understood that parting with your lifeless body was hard, but Joel couldn't carry you around. "We're going", Joel said dryly, as he moved past them. Sarah managed to brush her fingers over your cold skin as her father walked past. "You can't", Tommy tried again, but Joel turned back around, looking feral. "I said we MOVE,", he barked out, making Sarah shiver, and Em only cried more. "Dad,", the older girl tried, but Joel paid her no mind. He couldn't, not now. Acknowledging her would mean that he would have to face reality. And he couldn't. He couldn't fall apart. Especially not now. A shield of coldness embraces Joel as he continues walking through the dark field, still feeling your blood dripping off his hands. Dead.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #pedro pascal x reader

[seireitonin]

Dating Toby?? Like is he clingy, jealous or protective of his partner??

(I don't know....this is my first time doing these things.....)

Toby brain rot :3 this is how I see Toby mixed with some canon information! (I’m gonna try to keep it realistic)

What would it be like dating Toby?

Toby’s life is filled with tragedy

Abuse, death, murder, mental illnesses, being a slave to Slenderman

It’s all bad

So when he finds you, someone that accepts him and loves him despite all that, he’s not letting you go

He’ll do anything for you

I mean to the point it’s unhealthy

Because hes obsessed with you

Like really obsessed with you

He’s super touchy, not only because he likes to feel close to you, but it keeps him grounded

That’s important to him because his disorders/ mental illnesses cause him to hallucinate or space out

He’s not gloomy he’s actually upbeat but when he remembers something from his past or the current state of his life he goes through episodes of depression and mood swings

They can get really intense and as you’re with him you’ll learn how to support him through it

Just laying with him, making sure he has water and reminding him you’re here for him will help lots and lots of physical affection

If his mood swings get violent he’ll isolate himself from you but it’s heartbreaking to hear his suffering

His swings can go from extreme anger to intense sadness to reckless happiness

Since he hasn’t had much kindness or interaction in his life he doesn’t have the best social skills

He’ll say whatever is on his mind with no filter and that includes you too

So he’ll say mean things unintentionally a lot because he doesn’t understand how what he says can be hurtful

And he might try to call you sensitive for it too

“Ugh you’re overreacting I didn’t even say anything that hurtful. It’s just what’s on my mind”

He literally doesn’t understand how it can make you feel because he’s a bit detached with emotions

It’s gonna take a while for him to understand but he loves you so he’ll try to understand for your sake and will work on apologizing

He can also just be rude or a jerk sometimes in general

Toby likes just spending time with you to the point where you’re connected at the hip

He won’t say he loves you with words but he says it with his actions

He brings you gifts, holds your hand, goes on walks with you, holds you and try’s to be better for you (even though it’s really hard because he’s set in his ways)

He talks a lot so sometimes you’ll just listen and smile

Since he can’t feel pain, when he gets back from missions you’ll have to help him check for injuries to make sure he’s okay

He doesn’t say it but he appreciates it

Sometimes he’ll just stare at you because he loves you so much, taking in your every detail

He notices everything about you, from your body language, how you tan in the summer and lighten in the winter, he even knows how many times you breathe in a minute

Toby eats a lot of instant ramen so be prepared to eat a lot of that at first but you start to cook for him because he needs to eat better

Toby never expected to have a girlfriend since he’s a lot to handle but he liked the way you handle him

He’s full of himself literally thinks he’s gods gift to earth so sometimes he puts himself before your relationship but he’s trying to change that

He’s really funny especially if you like dark humor

He’s a jealous man. You’re his no one else’s

If someone even looks at you romantically he’ll go crazy on them

Remember, Toby is still a murderer and enjoys murdering

Chasing them down and threatening them and if it escalated kill them with a smile

He does it all for you. Everything is for you.

“You know I love you, right?”

He looks at you covered in blood

Toby likes it when you wear his sweaters

He wants a family one day and hopes you can give that to him

He’s possessive over you but does it out of intense love and obsession

He wants to keep you safe by any means necessary because he’s so used to losing the people he loves and he really doesn’t wanna lose you

Toby drives a pickup truck and likes to drive you around in it

He likes to sit in the back of it with you and look at the stars in an open field

Since Toby’s older his tics have calmed down but they’re still there and he still has the occasional tic attack

You’ll have to help him through those because sometimes he can’t even talk when he’s having one

Stuff he can squeeze, ice pack on his forehead and making sure he doesn’t hurt himself

He’s happy you don’t see him as a burden like everyone else did

He’s never letting you go

He didn’t know he could feel love this intense

#creepypasta #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta characters #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta headcanon #crp #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby #ticci toby hc #ticci toby hcs #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby creepypasta #creepypasta toby

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Part Two — Azriel x Reader.

Summary: Azriel comes back for a little more practice. But this time, he wants to learn more than just kissing.

Word count: 7k.

Warnings: Some violence, injury detail, mention of blood. Smut 🌶️ some touching and fingering 😏

“Is that painful?”

“A little. Keep going.”

Rhysand’s hands are gentle when, a week later, you lay face-down on his couch, naked from the waist up. You wince as his fingers skate over jagged, poorly healed scars. You can picture the look on his face without needing to glimpse it; pursed lips and a furrowed brow and barely contained rage.

But he doesn’t let that rage seep into his hands as he smooths a pleasant, cooling salve into what remains of your wings. Which isn’t much.

“Sorry,” he murmurs at your slight jolt. “Almost done.”

There are very few people you will trust with touching your back. It’s too personal for you to visit the camp healer for such treatment, however trained and skilled he may be. But Rhysand—

“I swear to you, Y/N.” His voice is deep, stoic, warm breath fanning your shoulder. “When I’m High Lord, this will be outlawed. Females will not go through this under my rule.”

He promises it every single time he helps you with this. And he means it. Which is why you trust him implicitly with the act.

“I know.” You murmur against a couch cushion. “Thank you.”

“All done.”

As he wipes his hands on a rag, you ease yourself into a sitting position, clutching your shirt to your bare chest. As always, a crackling fire breathes heat into Rhysand’s mother’s home, and the feeling is pleasant, soothing.

“I haven’t seen your mother recently.” You mention, waiting for Rhys to turn around so you can slip your shirt on. It’s not that he hasn’t seen more private parts of your body over the years, nor that you particularly care, but he does you the courtesy, anyway. “Is she well?”

A soft, loving smile curls at his lips. “She is.” And then the smile widens into a full-blown grin. “My father wants her closer to home. She’s with child.”

“Seriously?” You blink, and then you’re throwing yourself at Rhys, sheer happiness and excitement filling you. “Rhys, that’s amazing. You’re going to have a brother or sister.”

“Sister, I hope.” He snorts, squeezing you, and yet also minding your still-bare back. “We need more girls around here.”

“Well, boy or girl, you’ll be the most incredible big brother. I just know it.”

And you absolutely do. Rhys has always been that sort of presence in your life; caring and loving and protective. Stern sometimes. A shoulder to cry on. A giver of warm, much-needed hugs.

You lean into one of those hugs now, not caring nor thinking about the fact that your top half is naked and pressing against him. That is, until the front door opens behind you, sweeping a gust of icy air indoors.

You turn just in time to see Azriel kick the snow from his boots. And then he pauses in the doorway, staring between you and Rhysand.

There’s been no mention of the kiss that night a week ago. Things haven’t been strange nor awkward. Just…normal. As if it never happened.

You’ve combed over it in your mind a little, though. Maybe more than a little.

“I told her the news.” Rhys announces, pulling away from you. A beaming grin still lights up his face.

Azriel’s mouth immediately tilts up, matching his enthusiasm as he smiles at you. “Exciting, isn’t it?”

“Oh, incredibly.” You shrug your shirt on. “I’m bound to get far more stimulating conversation from a newborn babe than I do from you three idiots.”

Rhys swats you and Azriel snorts, and then you’re pushing to your feet and heading towards the small kitchen area. “I’m making tea. Do either of you want some?”

“No, I’m heading out to visit my mother.” Rhys stands. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, though.”

“Give her my love.” You tell him.

Azriel dips his head. “And mine.”

With a chipper goodbye, Rhys is dipping out of the cottage. Shutting the door behind him seals the heat inside once more, and already you have some soothing release from the pain in your upper back.

“Tea?” You offer again over your shoulder.

“Please.” Az approaches you from behind, stopping mere inches away to tie the strings at the back of your tunic. “Cass won’t be joining us. He ran into Sacha on the way here.”

You snort. Cassian’s most recent fling is coming up to a week-long stint, now. It won’t be long before cracks begin to show, and the whole thing is called off, and another female or male takes Sacha’s place. Rinse and repeat.

“I wonder which one of them will break it off. My money’s on Sacha.” You ladle a generous helping of sage tea into two cups and hand one to Az. “How are things with Kaeda?”

You can’t lie — you’ve wondered it a fair few times over the past week. Which is only natural, right? To question if the…help…that you gave Azriel was of any use. But so far, he hasn’t mentioned a damn thing.

He takes a long, pensive sip of his steaming drink. And then shrugs. “I’ve not really had the chance to see her.”

Immediately, you cock an eyebrow. Because Az seems to have had plenty of time for you and Rhys and Cass over the last seven days. Even spared one of those days to fly you to the local market to pick some things up for your father. It hasn’t been a particularly busy week for any of you — slow, even — and you’re almost positive he’s had a spare few minutes to land a kiss on his romantic interest.

Leaning your back against the wall, you shoot him a look. One that says, that’s not going to fly with me, Shadowsinger. “Wanna try that again?” You say. “The truth this time, please.”

He sighs, pressing back against the opposite wall. It must be so annoying for him that you can read him so well. Azriel doesn’t like being read. At all.

“I’m just…not confident enough yet. So, I’ve been avoiding her.” He admits. “I think I need more practice.”

You stare at him. Study him. You’re not sure if he’s implying what…what you think he might be implying. “You’re a good kisser, Az.” You tell him. “Trust me.”

The firm, truthful tone of your voice has his cheeks reddening slightly. He lowers his gaze to the floor. “But I don’t feel like one. And that’s the key to it all, isn’t it? Confidence. I’m just not there yet.”

Fair enough, you think. He’s not wrong. But the direction in which this seems to be going has your heart doing a strange, anticipatory flip in your chest.

“So…” You drag the word out. “Are you asking to practice on me again, or? Because I can totally steal one of the sparring dummies from the training ring and guide you that way—”

“Forget it.” He cuts your teasing off with a roll of his eyes.

“No, wait, I’m sorry.” You bite back a laugh. “I’m taking it seriously, I promise. Tell me what you need.”

He purses his lips, eyeing you for a long moment. You allow him to do so, even if it makes you feel a little naked.

“All I know,” he says, “is that I’m comfortable with you.”

The words are…strangely heavy. Vulnerable. He means them, and you know that, but they’re so weighty that for a moment, you can’t speak.

You suppose you’re so accustomed to your friendship with him — the familiarity and comfort of it — that you don’t think too often about how good it feels to be such a support for somebody. It makes you feel good. Useful. You want to always be able to help him like that.

So, you know you’d offer him anything, do anything he needs.

“If you need to practice on me some more, Az...” Your voice is strangely raspy. “I’m right here.”

He swallows. “But I don’t want it to seem like…like I’m using you.”

“It doesn’t.” It really doesn’t. You keep it to yourself that you need this in your own, little way. “I’d tell you if I felt like that.”

His eyes scan your face, and he seems satisfied with the truth that’s displayed there. He licks his lips and swallows and shifts from foot to foot. And then he says, simply, “Okay, then.”

And you guess this is happening right now, like it happened right then a week ago. So, you place your mug of tea on the counter and push away from the wall. Azriel does the same.

He steps a little closer. Pauses. “Do I need to do anything different to what I did before?”

“No.” You answer, probably a little too quickly. “No, you were great.”

He blushes again, and he seems to be fighting the urge to look away. But he maintains the eye contact like a champ and closes the space between you.

His scent, his warmth, is like a blanket that’s draped over you. You want to wrap yourself inside it, build a fort out of it, hide in it.

Azriel’s hands tremble as he lifts them to your face. He seemed to enjoy that last time — the feel of your skin beneath his. You enjoyed it, too. You tilt your head up just a little.

His thumb makes contact with your cheekbone, brushing a gentle sweep over the area. He leans down—

But then the door flies open, and a snow-covered, pissed off Cassian stomps in.

“Sacha and I are finished.” He announces, not seeming to notice yours and Azriel’s compromising position. “Let’s go to the mead hall.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The mead hall is packed and noisy, exactly how Cassian wants it. He’s in a foul mood, and so a higher volume of people means he has a good choice of who to pick a fight with.

When he gets like this, there’s not really any stopping him.

Luckily, your father isn’t there tonight, so you’re comfortable sitting wedged between Az and Cass without his paranoid, judgemental stare. But you don’t want to be here — the males are too drunk and boisterous, and you seem to be one of very few females present. It makes their leering gazes far more apparent.

“It was a total misunderstanding.” Cassian says from beside you, leaning over you a little so that Az can hear, too. “Yes, I might have called her the wrong name—”

“I would have thrown you out on your ass, too.” You cut him off, rolling your eyes. “At least know the name of who you’re fucking before you dive between their legs.”

“I do know her name. I just got confused—”

He stops mid-sentence and looks up as, from behind, a pair of rough, meaty hands land on your shoulders and squeeze. You immediately recoil at the touch, turning to glimpse the mammoth of an Illyrian male whose name you think is Tanin. Not that you care.

He stinks of ale and sweat as he leans down and smells your hair. You tense. Cassian tenses. Azriel tenses.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” Tanin slurs. “When are you going to let me dive between your legs?”

And there it is. Cassian’s excuse for a fight.

He’s out of his seat and on him quicker than you can even register, slamming Tanin down on the adjacent table amidst plates of food and goblets of ale. Blood goes flying as he pummels his fist into the bastard’s face, and then he’s grabbing a goblet of ale and pouring it over Tanin until he’s coughing and spluttering.

“How about you wash your filthy fucking mouth out?” Your friend snarls, diving in to land another punch. “Piece of shit.”

You turn to Azriel in mild alarm. Usually, he would have jumped in by now, pulled Cassian off before he can do too much damage. But the shadowsinger merely watches the affray with something akin to satisfaction on his face. You sigh in exasperation. This will quickly get out of hand.

“Cass.” You stand, reaching for your friend. “Cassian—”

But your voice is barely heard beneath all the yelling and jeering, and then Tanin is fighting back, landing a hit on Cassian so hard that he stumbles backwards — falls into you and knocks you to the floor, right amongst the gathering, boisterous males.

There’re feet everywhere in all directions, catching you in the side and stepping on your hand and knocking you back down whenever you try to get up. Suddenly, the fight is no longer between Cassian and Tanin. Males are punching each other for the sake of it, and more and more of them join in, not even knowing why they’re brawling. It’s the Illyrian pastime.

Just before another foot can swing into you, you’re aware of strong arms lifting you and plucking you straight from the centre of the chaos. Azriel shoves a drunken lout who backs into you, and then he’s dragging you away, his eyes fierce and blazing.

“You’re alright?” He asks over the shouting, his gaze roving your dirtied, creased tunic.

Your hand is throbbing from being stepped on, but the ache is already dulling. You nod. “I’m fine. Where is Cass?”

“Here.” Cassian suddenly appears behind you. His hair has mostly escaped the knot he’d tied it into, and his lip is badly split, blood gushing down his chin. He spits some onto the floor, and his words are thick and almost unintelligible as he cups his mouth and says, “Pieth of thit got me good.”

You scowl, knocking his hand away to grip his chin. “Serves you right. That fight was completely unnecessary.”

“I dithagree.” His eyes glitter, but then he grimaces and pulls away to spit more blood out. “Dammit. I think I need thitches.”

He definitely does. The gash in his lip is deep and pouring. And with the fight still merrily going on around you, it won’t be long before someone tries to drag him back into it. And Cass will happily oblige.

“Go to the healer and get that seen to.” Azriel tells him, not unlike a stern parent. He grips him by the shoulder and steers him out of the door, dragging you with him by the other hand. “And then sober up. I’m taking Y/N home.”

“And apologise to Sacha.” You add.

Cassian grumbles, but the fact that he doesn’t protest is a positive. He can sometimes be so stubborn that it makes you want to split his lip yourself. It would seem he’s had enough drama for one night.

“Fine.” He spits blood onto the dirt path. “Maybe Satha will take pithy on me.”

The fact that neither you nor Az agree is downright hilarious. But nor do you correct Cassian’s drunken, skewed thinking. Nights like these are a common occurrence, and to some degree, you just have to let your friend get on with it.

Cass turns, and you catch him quickly by the hand. “Thank you.” You tell him, because he was defending your honour, after all. “Love you.”

He grins a bloody grin, and then winces as it tugs at the wound. “Loveyouthoo, thweetpea.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ You don’t feel like going home and facing your father tonight, and with Rhysand’s mother’s cottage at your disposal, you don’t have to. It’s not unusual for you to spend nights away from home; usually he doesn’t care enough to even question it. But if he does, you always tell him the same thing — you spent the night with one of your many female friends. No males present. Such a little liar, you are.

But you’re content with that lie as you sink into the couch, your eyes flicking over to Azriel in the kitchen. He stirs a cup of tea silently, pensive as always. He’s asked about your wellbeing at least seven times since you stepped through the door.

You’re fine, you’ve answered each time, and it’s true. With him, you’re always fine. It doesn’t stop him worrying, though.

His footsteps thud against the floor as he approaches you, and he holds out a steaming mug. “Drink this. I put plenty of honey in it.”

Your lips twitch into a fond smile, and you accept it, taking a warm sip. “I was on the floor for a matter of seconds, Az. I have a bruised hand, that’s all.”

He knows this, of course, but trying to get him to stop fussing would be like beating a dead horse, and you really don’t mind being taken care of, anyway. Azriel settles into the space beside you, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. You lean into his side.

For a few moments, it’s comfortably silent. And then he snorts softly. “Cassian’s going to have a hard time apologising to Sacha when he can barely form a legible sentence.”

You laugh, tipping your head back against his shoulder. “Maybe she really will take pity on him.”

“If only she’d been there to witness his gallant display of coming to your defence. It might have impressed her.”

“Or put her off him for good.”

“The heartbreak would drive him into someone’s bed, I’m sure.”

The two of you share another laugh, and then silence blankets the small cottage. You’re always content like this, just…existing with Azriel. No need to be a certain way or do a certain thing, like you have to in your own home. With your closest friends, you have the freedom of being yourself unapologetically.

You finish your drink, and then Az is pulling you down with him, his wing draping around you. You’ve fallen asleep like this countless times — with all three of your friends at least once — and it’s one of the few places you feel truly safe.

But as you lie there, basking in Azriel’s warmth, your eyes don’t grow heavy. Rather, they continuously creep over to that spot in the kitchen you stood in with Az earlier, your bodies inches from each other, your lips very nearly meeting but not quite touching thanks to Cassian’s abrupt arrival.

A strange sense of disappointment hits you. Disappointment that you didn’t get to feel that heated kiss a second time.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” you murmur, knowing Azriel is just as awake as you are. “That we got interrupted.”

He turns his face slightly, chin brushing the top of your head. “It’s not your fault that Cassian has terrible timing.”

Your shoulders shake as you give a little laugh. No, no it isn’t. But amongst your disappointment — which is selfish, really, because the kiss was never for your sake —you feel guilt, also. Guilt that you didn’t get to help Az, despite that being what he needed.

You tip your head back enough to look up at him. “I’m still happy to help, you know. The offer is still there.”

For a couple of seconds, he merely stares down at you. His fingers absentmindedly twiddle a strand of your hair. And then he says, a hue of pink colouring his cheeks, “I still need the help.”

And in that moment, he looks so genuinely perturbed by his own inexperience that you can’t bear it. You’ll do anything, say anything, to put him at ease. To help him realise that these things are different for everyone. There’s no time frame he should be keeping to. Twenty years of age or thirty or forty or fifty, he could have come to you with these things worrying his thoughts, and there would never be any judgement. Only understanding. Only what he needs.

So, you slowly sit up, folding your legs beneath you and turning so that you’re facing him. “Would you like to practice now?”

He eyes you and swallows. And then he nods. “I would.”

You offer him a reassuring smile. “Come here, then.”

Just as you had, he pushes himself up into a sitting position. You can tell he’s tense by the way his wings fall about him; his shoulders squared. You reach for his hand and squeeze it gently.

“We already did this once, Az.” You remind him. “Just do what you did before.”

He nods — more to himself than to you. And then he’s scooting closer. His palm settles at your jaw.

He doesn’t go in for the kiss immediately. You allow him to do whatever he needs to do, whatever feels right. He seems content, for the time being, with dancing his fingers over the skin of your cheek, your jaw, your neck and the shell of your ear. His hand, scarred and callused, climbs and falls, explores each area with rapt attention. He takes note at the way your eyes momentarily flutter closed — an inadvertent reaction to his fingers skating over the pulse point of your throat.

“Is that pleasant?” His voice is deep, husky.

“For me, yes.” You clear your throat. “But I suppose not for everyone. Everybody has sensitive areas. That’s one of mine.”

You’re shamefully disappointed when, after a moment, his hand moves back up. It finds its place at your jaw again, and Az cups your cheek.

“Okay,” he whispers, and leans in.

There’s no chance for you to utter a word as he dips his head and presses his lips to yours. This time, there’s no quick, chaste peck to test the waters. Azriel dives straight in, capturing your mouth in a kiss that robs the breath straight from your lungs.

His mouth paws at yours, and you give yourself to the sensation, submitting fully to the practice. You want Azriel to take what he needs — to get a desired result from this — but as you kiss him back, you can’t help noticing the stiff, tense set of his body.

He’s not relaxed, not at all, and it shows. Something about this is bothering him, holding him back. Nerves, probably. Maybe even second thoughts. Whatever it is, you want him to communicate it, be honest about it.

So as much as you really, really don’t want to, you pull away, your face hovering a mere hair’s-breadth from Azriel’s. He seems to blink, and he licks his lips and stares at you with unguarded concern in his eyes. You know he’s already thinking a million things at once, wondering if he put a foot wrong.

“What is it?” You ask, making a grab for his hand. “You’re…tense. This is no different to what we did last week.”

Your friend stares back at you, conflict a war on his face. And for a split second, you start to think that he is having doubts, that he’s regretting having gone along with this.

And that…that would hurt. You’d understand, of course, because he’s your friend, and this is simply about helping him — but it would definitely hurt.

You don’t want to think too much about why that might be.

Rejection is never pleasant, you suppose.

“Az…” you chew your lower lip. “You can tell me. Whatever it is. If you want to stop this and just…talk…or do nothing at all…then that’s fine, too—”

“Kissing isn’t the only thing I’ve never done.”

The words leave him in such an abrupt gust that you’re stunned into silence.

You stare at him wordlessly.

Of course, it’s not that you haven’t considered that over the past seven days. Up until a week ago, you’d simply assumed that Azriel must have had a whole wealth of experience when it came to kissing people. And you’d turned out to be wrong. It wasn’t unusual to question whether there was more you didn’t know.

But you also knew perfectly well that sex didn’t require kissing. Az could have slept with a whole host of different people, and yet chosen — for whatever reason — to not kiss a single one of them.  He could have built up knowledge and experience in plenty of other areas without ever having explored what many would consider to be the first step.

You’d considered that Azriel might not have any sexual experience. And then you’d surmised that he most likely had.

That, it would seem, is not the case.

He looks more uncomfortable than ever, lowering his gaze and rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand. You want to tell him that none of that matters, that it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but the words simply will not come.

“I’m just…completely inexperienced. In every way.” He admits gravelly. “I’ve come close to doing things, but…I always overthink it. I don’t know how any of this is supposed to…to progress.”

Makes sense. It’s a daunting thing to explore, and even more so when you don’t trust easily. It’s perfectly reasonable that Az has protected himself from that pressure.

“Have you…” You clear your throat, desperate to make sure you’re handling this correctly, decently. “Have you ever done anything at all?”

His eyes flick up to meet yours. “I’m completely well-versed where my own pleasure is concerned, Y/N, trust me. It’s with another person that I have no fucking clue.”

Right. Got it.

Swallowing down a ridiculously huge lump in your throat, you give a slow, pensive nod. “Alright. Well…these things just…evolve naturally. One thing leads to another. The absolute worst thing you can do — with kissing or anything else — is overthink it. Do that, and it’s over before it begins. You just…follow your body’s lead and do what feels natural.”

Good fucking advice, if you do say so yourself. Azriel’s still-unsure expression is the only thing that stops you from giving yourself a well-earned pat on the back.

“Right. Follow my body’s lead.” Az sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. He clears his throat. “Can we continue?”

“If you want to continue, Az, we’ll continue.”

A small, soft smile lifts his lips, and it melts your heart a little. He’s genuinely grateful for your patience and understanding; you wonder if he truly knows that you’d give him, his kind heart, the entire world if you could.

But before you can sink too far into your mushy thoughts, Azriel’s hands are at your face once more, and he’s angling it up towards him.

You wait. Allow him to make the first move. He does.

He kisses you like your lips might disappear before his very eyes if he doesn’t. His mouth slants over yours, and that coiled tension is no longer making his body rigid and unnatural. He’s heeding your advice, relaxing into it, and this time, he doesn’t hold back.

His thumb sweeps your cheek, and his tongue sweeps your lip, and you’re opening up for him, allowing him to slip it inside to meet yours. At once, his taste is overpowering you, mixed in a little with the mulled wine he drank at the mead hall. It’s a song to your senses, and you’re desperate to hear it, feel it, from start to finish.

Perhaps that’s why you’re not really aware of the way your bodies move. Az is shifting on the couch and so are you, and while one of his hands remains at your face, the other moves down and slides gently to the scars on your back. It seems, for a moment, that he might tug you closer, but in one swift movement, he’s laying you down, and he’s tucked between your legs and hovering over you so closely. He cushions the remains of your wings, always concerned about your comfort.

Kissing him like this feels wildly different to kissing him sat up. It feels…intense and yet tender. Fast and yet slow. Like this could go anywhere and everywhere all at once. And part of you wonders if it should go nowhere. Perhaps you should stop. Helping Azriel gain confidence is one thing, but he’s your closest friend, and never before have you had your closest friend more or less lying on top of you, his body moving against you, while his mouth dances over yours.

Bizarre, really.

But you still continue to kiss him back.

Your hand moves up to cup the back of his neck, and you kiss him harder, graze your tongue over his lower lip—

He pulls his face away from you abruptly. Perhaps that was a step too far—

But something in the way he stares down at you, panting heavily, tells you it wasn’t.

“Where do you like to be touched?” He asks you, so gutturally that the words vibrate through you.

And they damn well catch you off guard.

You blink up at him, flustered, not sure you heard right. “I…what?”

Azriel then licks his lips. “I mean…where do you think Kaeda would like to be touched?”

Kaeda.

You’d forgotten about her. The reason that Az is even kissing you in the first place. Because he wants to be good for her.

The thought stings a little. You try to shake it off. “That…that’s something you’ll have to learn from Kaeda herself.”

He stares back at you. Studies your face. And he looks so…so genuinely daunted, that you search for something, anything, to put him at ease.

“But me…” You clear your throat. “I like to be touched in lots of places.”

He’s still staring at you in that strange, intense way. After a beat, he asks, “Will you show me?”

It’s your turn to stare at him then. You’re starting to think that perhaps the world has been turned on its head. You and Azriel, to each other, are familiarity and comfort. You’ve seen each other at your best and at your worst, been there for some damn near humiliating circumstances. This is the male who has bathed the blood of your own cycle from your skin and held your hair back when the cramps have turned your stomach. He’s listened to some of your most embarrassing stories without humour or judgement; just understanding. To him, you are an old, well-worn, well-loved pair of boots.

And he wants you to show him how to touch.

Never, under a million fucking sunrises, could you have predicted this would happen between you.

But you’re not recoiling from the request. You’re just…surprised. You’re not balking from it, nor running out of there screaming.

Nor has Azriel ever balked when you’ve asked for his help, his guidance. Not once.

You angle your body up slightly, just to get a better look at him. And you study him a moment longer. “…Az, are you…”

“I know what I’m asking, Y/N, and I’m sure.” He says without pause. “Show me how a female should be touched.”

Suddenly, you feel like the nervous, inexperienced one. You can totally say no, of course — Azriel would put a stop to it immediately if you did. But you don’t want to.

You want to do this. Want to help.

Your hand cups the back of his neck once more, and then you’re tugging his face down, pulling his mouth onto yours.

The kiss starts out slow and soft. There will be no rushing this for either of you. It’s an exploration, a way to trace the maps of each other’s mouths. You’re both desperate to know more, feel more, before this goes any further.

So, you follow your own advice. You told Azriel to trust in his body, follow its lead, and you now do the same. You want this to progress naturally, like…like it isn’t a transaction. Isn’t something that you agreed on beforehand.

There is no breaking from the kiss this time, even when you’re panting into each other’s mouths. Azriel’s hand is firm and pleasant at your jaw, and your tongues are intertwined, and you’re kissing like you want this specifically with each other. A fact you will not ruminate on,

You nip gently at Azriel’s lip, and this time, he does not pull away. He hums quietly — seemingly unaware of doing so — and applies a little pressure to your mouth. Kisses you harder.

And it’s then — then that you reach for the hand that’s settled at your jaw. You curl your fingers around Azriel’s wrist, and slowly, you drag that hand down.

You think you might be shaking a little, but you don’t give the nerves too much thought. Azriel allows you to guide him. His fingers brush over your neck, content to explore the soft skin there, but you keep that hand moving. The warmth of his palm permeates the fabric of your tunic, and the feeling is pleasant against your chest.

When you finally close his hand over the swell of your breast, you break away just to whisper onto his mouth, “I like being touched here.”

Azriel’s eyes bore into yours, heated and blazing. He swallows.

Clothed you might be, but there’s no undergarment between your shirt and your breast. The weight of Azriel’s hand falls heavy over the swell, and there may as well be no barrier of clothing with how delicious it feels.

His gaze remains on yours as he cups you in his palm. And then his thumb inches in, grazing over your nipple. You suck in a short breath at the contact, your back arching a little.

Azriel pauses. “Is…is this okay?”

“Yes,” you say, a little too quickly. “It’s more than okay, Az.”

A soft smile appears on his lips. You smother it with yours, pulling his face closer once more. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to kiss him again, or what you’re supposed to do amidst any of this, but it feels like the right thing.

This time, there’s no hesitation. Your kiss is hot and needy, and you find yourself bunching the fabric of Azriel’s shirt in your fist as he begins to more confidently explore your breasts.

He squeezes them, palms at them, traces the turgid peaks of your nipples, and you happily arch into it all. But then, without any guidance from you, his hand is leaving your breasts. Travelling down.

And you don’t breathe a word. You figure if he has a question, needs direction, he’ll ask. You kiss him as if you were always made for kissing him, and his fingers are dancing over your stomach, down and down.

“What…” he tugs his lips from yours, his fingers now at the waistband of your breeches, “what about here? Do you like being touched here?”

You stare up at him. And you’re supposed to be guiding him, aren’t you? So, panting, you fold your hand over his and move it down. Away from the waistband. Between your legs.

You fold his hand over the very centre of you. And you wonder if he can feel your heat through your breeches. It feels blazing to you, and torturously so. Like a fire has been lit between your thighs. You’re growing wetter by the second, and your scent must be filling the room.

“Here.” Your voice doesn’t sound like yours. It’s deep, smoky. “Right here.”

Azriel watches you closely. Watches your face as he applies pressure to your heat. His thumb presses down.

And you’re not thinking about his intense stare as a soft moan falls from your mouth. Your brow is furrowed, lips parted, and you want more.

“There?” The shadowsinger murmurs, repeating the action. Your moan is louder this time.

“Can you…” Already, you’re panting, but he’s not…not close enough. You grab his hand again, and you’re moving it back to your waistband. To the button on your breeches.

His eyes meet yours. He doesn’t need to be experienced to know what you’re asking from him. Sure, he could probably do this through your clothing, but surely skin-to-skin is better for his experience.

That’s what your selfish mind is telling you, anyway.

“You don’t mind?” Az asks. “I appreciate your help, but…I want you to be comfortable. I don’t want you to feel you have to do anything—”

“Azriel.” You clasp the back of his neck. “I really, really do not mind.”

For him, it will always be about making sure that you’re positive.

Your needy expression must tell him that you are.

You capture his mouth with yours, and this time, the moan comes from him. Kissing seems second-nature to him already. This one is fast and passionate and desperate, and yet he leans into it, gives himself to it entirely.

You don’t know how long you kiss for, but it’s possible that Az needs the time to build up to the moment. To get the nerve to actually cross that line.

You don’t push him or rush him. If he decides that this can’t go any further, you’ll stop immediately. You can see to the ache between your legs yourself.

But then, as his tongue rolls with yours, you feel his fingers at that button. Azriel pops it open. Your breeches part.

You lift your hips a little — a small encouragement. Az follows it. His touch is warm against your skin. His fingers slip past the waistband.

He pulls back to look at you. And he rasps, “Tell me what to do.”

“You can’t do anything wrong,” you pant. “Just…explore.”

He nods. Nods again. Draws in a slow, steeling breath.

And then he explores.

Not once does he look away from you. Not once, as his fingers slip between your folds. You bite down on your lip, not wanting to startle him. This is about him. This is about him.

His fingers dip tentatively through your damp heat. He drags them upwards, drenching himself with your wetness.

“You’re soaked…” He seems surprised by the fact. As though it’s unthinkable that your body would react in such a way to him. He explores more. “Really soaked.”

“Yes, Az.” You breathe. “That’s a good thing, trust me.”

He pauses his movements. And he’s entirely serious as he says, “I always trust you.”

And fuck, the sentiment makes you want to kiss him again, so you do. You yank him closer and slide your mouth onto his, and then his fingers are moving between your folds again.

They inch upwards with ease. And then one of those fingers is brushing over your clit.

You have no control over the way your hips jerk, bucking up into Azriel’s touch, or over the noise that rips from your throat.

Azriel pulls back to study you yet again. And repeats the action with more intent. “There?” He asks, and then adds, “Your scent reminds me of…of pears.”

“I don’t know whether I should say thank you, but yes, gods, there.”

Once more, his finger presses against your clit, and you’re gasping. His head cocks slightly, like he’s genuinely intrigued by your reaction. He watches you closely as he begins to circle the sensitive little nub.

You’re not wholly aware of the fact that you’re tipping your head back — not until Azriel is guiding it forward with his free hand and fastening your eyes on his once again.

“Can you look at me?” He clears his throat. “I just—want you to look at me.”

You swallow, and you nod. And you stay looking at him.

Even as his finger circles your clit again, and you feel the sensation like a lightning bolt through your entire body.

The pleasure is shocking. Your hips buck up into the sensation, and it seems to reward Azriel with confidence. His hand moves into a steady rhythm, his palm seeming to cup you and rub against you as his finger works at your clit.

You will not last like this. You never do. The stimulation is far too much, and you’re writhing beneath him, already feeling that tight, warm coiling in your lower belly — the sign of imminent release.

“Fuck,” you pant, rocking against Azriel’s hand. “Gods, Az, I’m gonna—”

Your words are lost, swallowed by his mouth closing over yours. Azriel kisses you, and he begins to move his finger in quick, flicking movements, and you’re gone, gone, utterly fucking gone, your body a swirling, weightless form as stars burst behind your eyelids.

The climax hits you so thoroughly that you shout into Azriel’s mouth, and you're grabbing at his shirt, simply needing to hold onto something as your hips undulate, desperate for more of the sensations he’s wringing from you and yet so incredibly sensitive that your body is already beginning to tremble.

And the second Azriel notices that you’re shaking, slumping back down against the couch cushions, his fingers cease their movements. He tears his mouth from yours and drinks in your expression.

“Are you okay?” He breathes heavily. “Was that…good?”

Good did not come close to describing what it was. There’s something magic about those fingers that still linger between your folds. You’re sure of it.

“More than good.” You gasp, your head falling back. “I just…need a moment.”

He pauses, before slowly, gently, tugging his hand out of your breeches. You think a whimper leaves you at the loss of contact. It’s an effort not to grab his hand and put it right back where you want it.

But instead, Azriel moves it up to your face. He brushes a strand of hair from your eyes, and his chest is heaving as much as yours as he leans down and brushes his lips over your cheek — an affectionate gesture. One he’s done a thousand times before.

It kind of…rips you from the moment, just a little. Reminds you that this is your closest friend who’s hovering above you. Who’s just made you come so hard, you saw stars. Who’s only doing this to learn.

You open your mouth — to say what, you’re not sure — but you’re stopped in your tracks by the door bursting open behind you.

You and Azriel move away from each other just as Cassian waltzes in. His lip is stitched up, but there are fresh marks at his neck; ones he seems incredibly proud of. You quickly fasten the button on your breeches before he can notice.

“Sacha and I worked things out.” He announces with a shit-eating grin. And then he pauses. Frowns. “Why does it smell like pears in here?”

azriel tags: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel fic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar x reader #acotar writing #acotar fanfic #acotar headcanon #acotar smut #acotar series #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #reader insert #Illyrians

[norrizzandpia]

My Name (LN4)

Summary: Y/n and Lando have a painful past together. When they go their separate ways and are left to pick up the pieces, Lando realizes he can no longer hear the woman he loved’s name without feeling deeply ashamed.

Warnings: this is the most angsty thing i ever written. TOXIC!LANDO TO THE MAX, lots of language, insinuations to sex, this is absolutely horrific i am so sorry its very painful and sad NO HAPPY ENDING (word count is a little over 4k)

Do you feel ashamed when you hear my name?

Some people had chapters they could never bring themselves to read out loud. Lando’s painfully silent chapter was Y/n. His nights were swallowed whole by the looks on her face when he let her down once more, the moment when she first thought he didn’t care about her in the way she did. Y/n was a recurring nightmare and a sobering remembrance for him.

FIVE YEARS PRIOR

“Lando, I have someone I want you to meet.” Max murmured to him as they glided through the crowd of rich sponsors. His best friend giggled under his breath as the groups separated like a sea, revealing the most beautiful woman.

From the moment he saw her, Lando knew he had to have her, “Please tell me it’s her.”

Max shook his head, his body lighting up as Y/n smiled at him and hugged him tightly. The two turned to the racer, still grinning, “This is Y/n. Friend from London.”

Lando thought she was perfect, down to the teeth peeking behind her upturned lips. His hand extended out for her hand, “It’s nice to meet you.”

”You as well.” Her voice was sultry, soft. Her hand fit right in the palm of his. Her body drawn to him, his to hers. Lando wanted her in his bed yesterday.

Sensing some sort of tension, knowing it was sexual, Max slid from the grasp of Y/n. He clipped his head down as a form of goodbye before leaving the two to turn from strangers to friends, maybe more in store.

The beginning of Lando’s favorite part of his life and the downfall of whoever he was before he met her.

TWO MONTHS LATER

Whether it was because of her overwhelming, albeit attractive, confidence or the fact that she was Max’s friend, Lando didn’t ask Y/n out right away. Instead, he tiptoed around her, so did she, but he only stopped when picturing her when he was touching himself got to be boring. She only stopped when he showed up at her door with flowers, ready for their date.

“I love pink roses.” She smiled, lightly taking the bouquet from his hands and disappearing into her apartment.

He closed the door when he stepped in to follow her. His feet took him to her kitchen, where she leaned over the counter and filled a vase. His eyes bounced around the walls, peeking out into the living room to see heaps and blankets and pillows.

His hands in his pockets, “I hoped you would.”

She thought it was supposed to be a romantic gesture. Lando’s hands were touching the curve of her waist before he finished his sentence, his mouth next to her ear, “I’m glad you do.”

She made the mistake of turning around, part of her would later wonder if that was giving him the wrong idea.

Still, his lips met hers in a heated kiss, his body pushing hers further into the hard granite. She had been attracted to him from the start, gotten to know him over the two months he hadn’t actively tried to pursue her. She really liked him. That was the reasoning which led herself to being wrapped up in sheets with him a half hour later.

They never made it to that first date.

PRESENT

Lando’s eyes burned with all the flashing lights. Even after a race win, the joy could never subside the anxiety he got from all the press.

The first reporter, her name tag reading Clara, beamed at him. It reminded him of Y/n’s perfect teeth.

“Congratulations, Lando, on an incredible race! How are you feeling right now?” She spoke quickly. She pushed her microphone into his face.

His hands gripped the railing in front of him, “Amazing! This feeling will never get old.”

Her face dropped slightly as she glanced behind her, to the cameraman he presumed, “We would love to talk more about your stellar race, but we do want to ask for your thoughts on the allegations surrounding Y/n Y/l/n over hostile workplace behavior.”

His heart squeezed. He wished people knew her. Not the girl he ruined, but the woman he knew she still was deep down, past all the things that happened between them. His cheeks flushed, “Y/n is an amazing person. She has a kind heart. I just hope people can see that.”

He prayed that Clara would drop the subject. Lando would kill to clear Y/n’s name for her, maybe that would makeup for all the pain he caused, but she would never give him the light of day, even for that. People associated him with her and it tore at his insides. There wasn’t a day that went by that the taste of her name in his mouth didn’t feel like a type of betrayal.

Clara’s eyebrows moved up, “So, you think the allegations are false?”

He huffed, “I’m not speaking about the allegations. I’m simply speaking about the woman I knew.”

Whoever she was now, he didn’t know enough to comment.

FOUR YEARS PRIOR

“Oh, fuck, Y/n, that was amazing.” Lando breathed, his chest rising and falling quickly from beside her.

She laughed, “Happy for you.”

His body turned to the side, his head propped up by his arm, “It was nice having you here.”

She was quiet for a moment, trying to decipher what that sentence implied. She thought she knew, she just didn’t want to face it.

Y/n’s hand traced his arm, “It was a good time.”

Lando pulled away from her, slipping from bed and pulling his pants back on. Loud and clear, she thought.

Still, she tried. Pathetically. Her shirt slid over her body as she grumbled, “Do you wanna go get some food?”

From her view of his back, she saw him tense, “Uh, I can’t, Y/n. Sorry. I’m super busy right now.”

She sighed softly, too quiet for him to hear. He turned around, fully dressed now. She stood, shirt and underwear on with no towel to clean herself. Completely rejected. A small piece of her heart chipped away.

She nodded, “Okay, yeah, no problem. I get it.”

He rushed out of the room, “Yeah, thanks! Feel free to let yourself out! I’ve got some errands to run!”

The door slammed shut immediately after. She took a moment in the silence to gather her messy mind. Maybe he was genuinely busy. Maybe he didn’t mean it that way. He said it was nice having her there.

He couldn’t have meant this in a mean way.

Like any girl in love with someone they thought they were too unworthy of having, the excuses began.

ONE MONTH LATER

Deja Vu flooded Y/n’s senses as Lando rolled off her body. The sinking feeling that her time with him was over mixed with the familiarity and it proved to be a horrific experience.

Her hand reached out to grab her pants that had been discarded on the floor when his voice rang out.

“Do you wanna go get food?” He asked, head turning to look at her as if it was the most regular thing.

Her hand stopped just above her jeans, “What?”

Lando sat up from bed, no longer in a rush to throw his clothes on, “Do you want to go get food with me?”

Some place within herself ridiculed her for nodding her head so eagerly. It was beginning to feel like she was trying to earn his love.

His hand around her waist moved to link in her palm and she finally felt like something to him. When he sat across from her at the quiet and secluded diner they found five minutes after leaving his apartment, his eyes bore into hers. He studied her like a thing he loved.

Maybe he finally did.

PRESENT

When Lando closed the door to Max’s apartment, he was met with hushed and frantic whispers. He walked slowly down the hall toward his best friend’s voice, clearly in distress.

“Y/n, I don’t understand that can’t be true. You’re not that person.” He gave, hand clutching his phone.

Lando heard murmurs on the other line before Max was cutting her off, “No, I don’t care how much you’ve changed over the years. I know you and I know you aren’t the person these people are saying you are. You wouldn’t scream at people because they got your coffee order wrong. You wouldn’t fire people over one small mistake. You wouldn’t humiliate others publicly to make some sort of statement. You just aren’t that person.”

More murmurs before Max’s interruption, “No! I know you know ‘this is how you run a business’ is such a bullshit excuse. If this is you, then please let me know where Y/n is because I know for fucks sake this isn’t it.”

The responses on the other line jumped in volume, Lando being able to make out some of the words. Y/n was yelling, truly yelling. Telling Max that he wasn’t a good friend, not supporting her through whatever was being alleged.

Lando’s ears rang. This wasn’t her, he knew that. Everybody knew that. She was a bright spirit, she wasn’t now. She was a hollowed out version of who she used to be and Lando knew he had taken every bit of it. He held what she once was in his hands and this was her trying to move on without it.

He wanted to give it back to her somehow, revive the life she once led, but he was so ashamed to show his face to her. He knew it would only be met with an anger he wouldn’t be able to forget.

He couldn’t hear anymore of her turmoil. Too many memories were being brought to the forefront of his mind. Maybe it was selfish, he had proven to be on many occasions, but he stepped into the room.

“Lando’s here. I have to go.” Max rushed.

The line clipped before he could even get his full sentence out.

Max stared at his phone for a moment, studying the contact picture he hadn’t changed for years. Standing off to the side, Lando could make out Y/n’s smile, her perfect teeth, and lightness in her eyes. It was a living testimony of someone that was no longer there. Someone who had lost themselves in it all. He knew it because he had gone through it. In the midst of Y/n, Lando had lost sight of himself. Part of him wanted to blame his behavior toward her on that, but there was no excuse. He had to live with the knowledge he was capable of causing such psychological damage on someone else. Someone he loved. A personal, endless hell.

Max sighed, “Hey, mate.”

It was quiet, exhausted and Lando knew Max didn’t want to talk about it, but something in him urged to hear, “That was her?”

Max nodded, “Uh, yeah. She’s just trying to fight the allegations right now.”

Lando set the takeout down on the desk, “I assume it’s not going well?”

Something switched in Max, his eyes turned cold, “No, Lando, it’s not going well. And, frankly, I don’t know why you’re even going here with me right now”

Lando put his hands on his hips with his eyebrows furrowed, “Going where with you?”

Max’s fists curled, “I forgave you for the way you treated her, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a sore spot. She’s lashing out at people, ruining her reputation, because you put her through a shit show. I’m not saying this is wholly your fault, but you had such a major fucking role in it and, to be honest, sometimes I can’t fucking look at you without seeing her and everything she has to go through on top of all the shit you did. You don't have the right, in my mind, to ask me about her.”

”I’m not trying to start anything. I still care about her.” Lando said, hands turning upwards as if he was lost.

Max scoffed, “Care about her? Fuck you! Care about her, my ass. You used her for sex, Lando! You took and then you gave, you took and then you gave. Such a twisted cycle that she never even asked for, looked for, deserved. You have no right to sit here and say you care about her. I care about her.”

The two friends had had such a hard time finding a peaceful ground in the moments after Y/n and Lando’s blow up. Max was protective over her. He entrusted Lando with her and Lando had thrown her back in his face like she wasn’t someone to be cherished. Part of him would never forgive Lando for that.

They wondered if that would be the final straw.

Lando breathed out, “I think you need some space. I’ll leave and if you want to talk things out later, call me. I don’t want to push something with you that you don’t want anymore.”

He turned around, prepared to walk out, but Max whispered, “Like you did with Y/n?”

The McLaren Driver spun around, “What?”

Max’s arms crossed in front of his chest, “You heard me.”

The fire in Max’s eyes masked pain, Lando knew that because he had lived it. Max didn’t want to fight him, he wanted this battle to be over. In a moment of growth, Lando set aside the anger in his own head and walked out the door. Hoping for a day where Max could look at him and see something other than the one moment in his life where he ruined something so perfectly his.

TWO YEARS PRIOR

Lando had DNF’d. Max and Y/n watched on as he took his gloves off, forcefully throwing them to the ground in frustration. A worker coaxed him into the car waiting to take him back to the garage, Lando shrugging him off and throwing himself into the backseat.

Andrea’s fist collided with the table he was sitting in front of and Jon ripped his headset off. Lando had been so close to securing a win, but one wrong swerve and he had gone spinning off the track with no opportunity of recovery.

Lando’s return was quick, his body storming through the room and darting up the stairs to privacy. Y/n and Max just glanced at each other, both knowing how he got with these things. Part of her wanted to go up there, hug him and tell him how amazing he was, but she also knew he needed time to be alone. Process things. She just wanted the best for him.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

Lan <3

Come up to my room?

She smiled. Lando hadn’t opened up to her that much over the year and a half they had been fooling around, whatever you wanted to call it, but she had always wanted him to. She had tried to ask him about family life, stressors he was dealing with, and he would answer, but it was brief and then his lips were on hers again.

Maybe he had finally come around to letting her in like she had him.

Y/n Y/l/n

Coming xx

When she got to his room, her knuckle hit the door once before it was flying open and he was pulling her in. She laughed as he kissed her, thinking it was meaningless. But, when his hands tried to pull her shirt off, she pulled back.

She cocked her head, “What’re you doing?”

Lando stopped, “Fucking you?”

Her heart dipped down, “What?”

He looked at her like nothing was wrong. Did this mean nothing to him?

”Lando, don’t you wanna talk about what just happened?” She tried, but he just kept playing with the hem of her clothes.

He nodded and her confusion almost subsided. Almost, “Yeah, with some kisses and an orgasm.”

His lips met her neck and a slimy feeling washed over her body. The first time she felt self-hatred in the presence of him. What was she doing?

Y/n pushed him off, “No, I don’t want to have sex right now, Lan.”

His hip popped out and he stared at her, “Why?”

She shrugged, “Because I don’t. That should be enough.”

He looked at her as if he expected sex. Like her rejection was some sort of betrayal. He didn’t just appreciate being with her?

Lando groaned, “Ugh, whatever. Okay. I have to get changed so I can go to the debrief.”

For once, she didn’t try to argue to stay. Something didn’t feel right about his hands on her anymore.

Something wasn’t kind about their situation anymore and it wasn’t the love she knew she had for him.

THREE MONTHS LATER

Y/n Y/l/n

Can I come over? We need to talk.

Lan <3

Sure

She walked into his apartment with hesitation. What she had identified as a comfortable space no longer felt that way. Now, she stood in the foyer as if she didn’t know the layout like the back of her hand.

Lando looked at her expectantly. It mirrored the way he had eyed her that afternoon in his driver’s room. She hated it.

“We need to talk about what we are.”

Lando’s eyes bulged, “Why? There’s nothing to talk about. We both know what we are.”

Y/n shook her head, “Well, I don’t. I thought I did, but I’m starting to think I’ve been a little naive.”

Naive? That was not a word Lando would choose to describe Y/n. Gullible, maybe, but naive? No. She wasn’t that.

He led her to the living room, hand falling around her waist and lips pecking her neck out of habit when they fell onto the couch. She pulled away, “Stop, Lando.”

The softness in her voice, the way it sounded broken down, made him search her face for answers.

He got them when she began speaking, “Lando, for the past year and a half, I have done everything a girlfriend would do. I have cooked for you, run out to complete errands so you weren’t stressed, come to your house at night when you couldn’t sleep, stopped seeing other men because I felt tied to you exclusively, loved you. You have done none of that. I’ve gotten flowers, but that’s rare and I’ve gotten gifts, but it’s been for my birthday and weeks late. I give you everything I have. I give you my time, my energy, my body, my feelings, everything. You’ve given me on and off moments where you treat me with some level of respect, but I have never gotten the amount I deserve. I can’t keep doing this when all I feel like is a random fling.”

Lando stuttered. He knew this was coming. He knew the way he had been treating her, giving her things occasionally so they would hold more value and pulling back when he felt like it, would catch up to him. But, to think she was in love with him and expected the same from him, was not something he was prepared for. He was speechless as he looked at her. What was he supposed to say? She was a fling.

The moment that would haunt him everywhere he went: the small drop in her face when she realized he wasn’t fighting her. The knowledge that what she had felt all along was what she had been.

She deserved more.

She stood from the couch, “Oh my god.”

Lando stood with her, “Y/n, I am so sorry. I-”

She slapped him across the face, “Who do you think you are? Giving me flowers, taking me out to dinner, giving me a taste of what it’s like to be treated with dignity by you just so you could keep stringing me along. You manipulative piece of shit!”

The anger in her eyes mirrored Max’s whenever he got mad. He worried that would be burned into his brain every time he looked his best friend’s way.

Lando grabbed her wrist when she turned around, spinning her back, “Y/n, you have no idea. I didn’t mean for it to be this way. I’ve always wanted you. I want you.”

She pushed him away, “Want me how? Want me for my body? Want me for sex? Want me for some fucking orgasms? Is that what you’ve reduced me to?”

He tried to find the right words. There were none. “I thought we were having fun! I didn’t know you were falling for me.”

She rushed into the kitchen, grabbing her purse while yelling, “What’d you think I was doing sticking around all this time? For the sex? You’re good in bed, but not that fucking good. You’re a sick fuck.”

She reached the door and he stood in front of it, forcing himself to memorize the fury that was slowly fading away to deep sadness, “Y/n, I care about you. I don’t know how I feel about you, but I know it’s more than a fling.”

Lando waited for her reply, but she just smacked his shoulder and began to cry, “Don’t say that! That’s so fucking unfair! I’ve been in love with you for a year and you don’t even have your feelings figured out for me? You’ve been fucking me for almost two years and you have no clue if you hate me or you love me? Grow up!”

Her tears bled through the fabric of her shirt as she stared up at him. The deep color of her eyes was magnified by the glossiness. He loved her eyes. Did that mean he loved her? He was furiously trying to sort out the feelings he knew he had for her in the short amount of time he had. He didn’t want her to leave. Was that cruel?

In his silence, she found everything she needed. Pushing past him, Y/n ripped the door open. Her face turned back to him, a version he didn’t recognize, and she whispered, “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Her parting words struck his soul, so raw and real. He knew that was what she wanted him to remember if he chose to block the entire conversation from his mind.

No matter how hard he would try, Lando would come to find he would never be able to forget the blip in his life. Her fast pulse under his fingers when he grabbed her wrist to the way she condemned him, it was all there. Lingering and plotting to remind him of their presence when the syllables of her name were uttered.

Maybe he did love her, he was starting to realize that, but that would never matter now.

”You should be ashamed of yourself.”

PRESENT

Lando moved the oatmeal around in his bowl as he scrolled through his Instagram feed. His TV played some random news station in the background in the living room, one he was half listening to. But, the moment the anchor spoke her name, Lando was dropping his phone and bringing his full attention to the screen.

A picture of her popped up, a headline below and one Lando couldn’t bring himself to read. He was too enthralled with her picture, remembering the times she used to smile at him that way.

”Y/n Y/l/n has officially stepped down from her CEO position at her famous boutique. She and her team released a statement this morning, apologizing for the strain she put on employees and other board members these past two years. She explains in the statement that there is no excuse for her actions, but she is heavily remorseful for them. She promises to work further on herself out of respect for the people she affected, changing her ways. She also briefly mentioned in the statement that she will be paying thousands of dollars to each employee she fired under wrongful termination. Y/n explains that the business has always meant the world to her and it is painful to let it go, put it in the hands of someone else, but she knows this is for the best. She wishes the business and all employees a more positive life after having impacted their’s negatively for so long.”

Lando stood in his living room, hands by his sides, as he read the screenshot posted on the TV. His hands shook and his palms sweat, tears pricking his eyes.

She loved that job.

This was his fault, no matter how much he tried to say her actions were under her control. It hit him fully then and there. Y/n changed him for the better, taught him how to treat someone you love, and he ruined her. He took the perfect girl with the perfect teeth, perfect hair, beautiful smile, and twisted her insides into someone who lived with rage. She never knew rage until him. He introduced it to her.

Do you feel ashamed when you hear my name?

A/N: sorry pookies sending all my love after this bc it broke ME idk how yall are doing

TAGS: @jehun

#mclaren #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #lando norris fic #lando smut #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris edit #lando norris blurb #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris x you #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x you #ln4 x y/n #Spotify

[storiesfromgaza]

"Mom, does it hurt when we get bombarded? Do we feel the pain, or do we just die at once?"

These are the questions that Reporter Youmna El Sayed began with in her interview conducted by the AJ+ network to document her struggles with her children and the suffering of all the people of Gaza

When my kids ask me, 'Mom, does it hurt when we get bombarded? Do we feel the pain, or do we just die at once?' and I have to tell them, 'No, don't worry. It's not going to hurt.' Their father reassures them, saying, 'Don't worry. It just happens once, and that's it.' In the past, we would comfort our children, saying, 'Don't worry. It's going to be okay. It's going to end soon. You'll be fine. We'll be fine.' Everything is shaking—constantly. But now, every night, we tell them, 'Don't worry. We're together, sticking together. If we die, we die together.' Death has become a looming reality since the Israeli army encircled Gaza city. The bombardments have been relentless—from the land, air, and sea. Our building is in a perpetual state of tremor. Three days ago, we awoke to the smoke of nearby fires filling our homes. We sought refuge in the basement, the best option with the least smoke, but it was still overwhelming. The kids were coughing, suffocating, and their eyes were itching. But when it comes to my children, it just hits me so hard, Dina, and I just feel that I can't control it anymore. I can't be that strong, brave woman who's able to control things or get things under control because they're my weak part. I feel a loss of control, unable to maintain the facade of strength and bravery. Judy, usually full of life, now appears quiet and terrified

She doesn't eat much. She doesn't feel like doing anything. I tried to speak to her about things, you know, bring back some happy memories, and I said, as usual, 'What would you like to do the first thing after this war ends?' She told me, 'Mommy, I don't want to do anything except for this war to end. I just want these bombardments to end, everything—the destruction, the despair, the loss.'

I think they tell you that now—we're just hearing news of people dying every now and then—people that we know, friends, colleagues, everyone around us. And it just, you know, really, like, 'May he rest in peace,' and that's it. I just—we just go on because we were just waiting for our turn. You mentioned to me that food is scarce and supplies are low. What is the water situation? We can starve, right? We can go on without food, even as adults. But without water, I'd rather die from bombardments than die from thirst. I don't want my kids at the end to die from thirst. Are you still thinking to move south, and what would that look like? The last attempt was a couple of days ago, and we found out that to move south, we need to walk for at least 6 to 7 km on foot and not carry anything at all with us—none of our belongings. Basically, walk this distance while we raise our hands to show that we surrender, just holding our IDs in one hand and raising the other. And I think that's just extremely humiliating. And it's not just that, you know?

You remember the massacre that everyone saw on TV screens for the civilians that were bombarded on the road? They're still lying there. Until this day, lying there in the streets, their bodies. The crows and the birds are eating from them, and no one has been able to pick them up. The Israeli army has not allowed anyone or ambulances or any medical teams to come to pick these people up and to bury them. How can I let my kids go through a street while they see other children and other people killed and thrown just like that, lying in the street like that, while birds are eating from them? I think that this is just inhumane and more cruel than anything. This is not to worry about fighting Hamas or Palestinian fighters. This war began by eliminating and wiping out the Palestinian people in Gaza. This isn't a war against Palestinian fighters nor Hamas; it's a genocide against Gaza.

#jerusalem #gaza #palestine #gaza strip #free gaza #free palestine #storiesfromgaza #غزة #فلسطين #genocide #humanitarian crisis #savepalestine #freepalestine #palestinian #israel #longlivepalestine #prayforpalestine #savegaza #palestina #prayforgaza #palestinewillbefree #alaqsa

[silent-stories]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader

Summary: Astarion fears that he is forcing you to spend the rest of your life in darkness.

Astarion was lying on the bed, next to you, his eyes were staring at an indefinite point on the ceiling and between his eyebrows there were a few more wrinkles, as if he was intensely thinking.

The inn room was comfortable, clean, and scented with lavender. It was nice to finally be able to spend a few days of peace after Cazador's death and sleep in a real bed, next to someone you loved.

You looked at his profile, the curve of his lips, the white curls on the pillow and some falling onto his forehead, the way his chest remained completely still, devoid of a beating heart and air in his lungs.

His ruby ​​eyes looked darker now that they were no longer in daylight and you found yourself thinking that you already missed the way they sparkled when hit by the sun's rays.

You glanced at the window in the room, the curtains were drawn so as not to let in the slightest bit of light, obviously. Ever since Astarion went back to not being able to be in the sunlight, you were always careful about that.

"Is something bothering you, Star?"

You already knew the answer, you knew him, but you didn't want to force any explanation.

"Don't you think you made the wrong choice?" He responded with another question, his voice low.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you think I am the wrong choice?" He continued speaking without looking at you, his pale hands lying one on his stomach and one on his side. You wanted to grab one, kiss his knuckles and play with his fingers in that way that always made him laugh no matter how hard he tried to hold it back.

You decided against it only because he seemed so deep in his thoughts that a sudden touch would start him. You knew that some types of physical contact were still new to him.

"Star-"

"I feel like I'm forcing you to spend the rest of your life in the dark, hiding."

"You're not forcing me, it was my decision to stay with you."

"This is exactly why I ask you: don't you think you made the wrong decision?"

"You will never be-"

He interrupted you.

"I want you to know that if at any moment you realize that this is not the life you want to live, that you are tired of hiding from the sun, I will understand.

And although I may never be ready to let you go, I will, because you deserve to live. You deserve to walk among people, village festivals, going through the markets, you deserve the sun's rays kissing your skin. And I don't want to deprive you of what you deserve, my love. I can't deprive you of living."

The way he spoke and the sincerity in his voice, devoid of any hint of sarcasm and irony, struck you in a way you couldn't quite place and left you speechless.

He was telling you to leave him for your own good.

"As much as I would like to have you next to me for eternity, I find it a too selfish idea. Even for me." He continued, "So I'm telling you, if one day I won't find you lying in bed next to me, don't feel guilty for running away from someone who was limiting you, who was forcing you into the darkness when you wanted to see the world.

I'll understand it. I won't lie and say I won't spend the rest of my days trying in vain to fill the void you left in me, but that won't change my mind. You deserve to live, my love. Not to hide."

He was saying you could go, even though it would cause him pain. That it was more important to know you were happy with someone else than unhappy with him. You wondered if there was a greater sign of love than this.

"My star."

The way you called him, maybe stirred something in him. He turned his head towards you and his gaze finally met yours, his red eyes were big, sad and full of affection.

“I would rather spend the rest of my life in the darkness with you than in the daylight with someone else.”

He slowly moved his body towards you, his hand gently brushing your hip and so you reached out to trace his features with your fingertips, brushing a curl away from his forehead.

You kept talking.

"The world is still alive when the sun goes down, we can go out and live with it. We can see how the moon reflects on the waves of the sea and on the surface of the lakes, we can walk in the woods that only we know, we can try to count the stars and invent new constellations."

His grip around you became firmer but still extremely gentle as he pushed you closer to his body. You put your arms around him in the same way and with your hand you caressed his back, aware that under the light fabric of his shirt, the scars of his past stood out on his skin.

You remembered the day he told you that it was okay, when you touched them, that they hadn't caused him physical pain in years and that, when he felt the tips of your fingers run gently over them, it was as if they were healing for a second time.

"I don't care what we do, as long as we're together. I'm not interested in running away from you because I don't want anyone else. You won't find my side of the bed empty one day, because that's the only place I want to be. You didn't force me to do anything, Star, it was my decision to be with you. And it will be my decision to stay with you every day to follow."

There was a moment of silence, then his lips curved into a slight smile. Almost invisible, but enough to show the tips of his white canines.

“You have always been so stubborn.” He murmured before leaving a kiss on your forehead. It was light and sweet and made you giggle.

"I think you like that."

"Just a bit."

"Just a bit?" You asked, pretending to be shocked.

"Mh-mh."

"Now don't you try to tell me that-"

When his cold lips met yours, you couldn't finish your sentence. The kiss was sweet, full of meaning and slower than usual.

Because in the end, you had all the time.

Because you weren't planning on leaving anytime soon.

#astarion x reader #astarion bg3 x reader #astarion fluff #astarion angst #astarion x reader angst #astarion x reader fluff

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

A New Beginning - Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Reader

Summary: The birth of your daughter with Lucifer brings some of his fears to the surface as he meets her for the first time, but you're there to help him.

Contents/Possible Warnings: Fluff, some angst, but mostly fluff

The moment she came into the world you knew you'd always love her. Your sweet baby girl looked a lot like her father, and while she had gotten your eyes, everything else seemed to have come from Lucifer. She had the most stunning golden hair you had ever seen, and the lighter streaks of blonde running through it only added to her beauty. Her chubby little cheeks were the most adorable shade of a bright, rosy red, and when she smiled you felt a happiness stronger than you had ever experienced before.

She was perfect.

"God, she looks so much like Charlie when she was born." Gently leaning over, Lucifer held out a finger, and your daughter grabbed onto it, curious eyes looking up at him. "Hi, my baby," he cooed, gently taking her from you, and holding her in his arms. "You're so precious."

You melted at the sight, a warmth filling you as you watched the scene in front of you. He was being careful with her, almost as if he was afraid she'd break at any moment, and the soft way he spoke to her made you fall in love with him all over again. You had always thought you made the right choice all those months ago when you asked him to have a baby with you, and your belief only grew as you looked at them.

"Darling?" Lucifer asked you. "Are you crying?"

You sniffled, nodding in response. It was beautiful. The two loves of your life in front of you had brought you to tears of joy. You loved them so, so much. "I'm just so happy, Lucifer. You're such a great dad."

Your husband looked away, avoiding your gaze, smiling sadly. "I'm not—I could've–" He sighed, unable to find the words. He handed her back to you, and you tilted your head slightly in confusion as he took a few steps back and began to nervously fidget with his cane.

"I could've done better with Charlie." He looked at your baby, the same sad, pained smile on his face. "I'm probably going to fuck up with this one, too." He let out a small, humorless, bitter laugh. You frowned.

"Lucifer, honey." You motioned for him to come closer, and he did, letting you hold his face in one of your hands. "Not all of it's your fault, okay?" You reassured him. He had told you about Lilith, and how she would distance him from Charlie, and how that ultimately helped lead up to his current, rocky father-daughter relationship with her.

He fought back tears. "I–I know you're not Lilith, but–fuck—I'm scared that the same thing's gonna happen, or that I'll screw up some other way. I want to be a good father. I need to be a good father. For her."

"And you will be." You promised. "I can already tell how much you love her, and I know you'll do an amazing job. Think of this as a new beginning for you. A chance to do even better."

He frowned, still filled with self-doubt, but nodded in agreement. This would be a new start for him, and he wouldn't waste his chance. His frown turned into a grin as your daughter reached out her tiny hands towards him, wanting to be held by her father again, and he gladly took her from you.

"Oh!" He said suddenly, letting out a small laugh as he realized something. "We never gave her a name!" He was right. Amid all the emotions, both good and bad, you had both managed to forget about her name.

"What should we—"

"Stella." You decided, cutting him off. She was your little star, your bright light in the darkness, and the cosmic-themed name fit her excellently. A wonderful name for the wonderful little girl you had brought into the world.

"Stella." He said, testing the name out. "I like it." He smiled down at her. "I'll be the best dad you could ever ask for, Stella. I promise."

You knew he wouldn't let her down. She was his new beginning, and he'd stay true to his word.

#hazbin hotel #Hazbin #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #Lucifer hazbin #Lucifer hazbin hotel #Lucifer hazbin x reader #Lucifer hazbin hotel x reader #Hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin x y/n #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer x reader #Lucifer morningstar x reader #Lucifer magne x reader #fem reader #fem!reader #hazbin hotel x female reader #female reader #💫MimicWrites💫 #banner by cafekitsune

[nuevialnst]

A Sloppy First With Carlos?

Pairings: Carlos Oliveira x Fem! Reader

Summary: You have been dating Carlos for quite some time and finally decide to let him claim you as his own, but it is more like some sloppy sex.

Cw. Smut (nsfw), p in v, praise, virgin reader gets their first time wit carlos, dom carlos?, some begging, needy/desperate reader, a bit body worship if you squint ur eyes just a bit, possessive & a bit of cocky carlos, relationship had already been established yet we skipping to the part of where he just gives u a sloppy first time just to enjoy every moment of him inside you! This man is gonna make you a milf after he’s done fr fr want u to be the momma to his kids. Some fluff at the end there is def aftercare but I got too lazy to write it….

A/N: I’ve never written for Carlos before, so this is my first time writing for him and feel free to give me feedback!

SMUT AHEAD!! MINORS DNI!

Carlos Oliveira is definitely a charming guy when it came to women, but that all changed when you came into his life. He became so tough and cocky around you and others that it made him the kind of guy who didn’t let himself be vulnerable in front of people. It also caused you to fall for him a little bit faster. That was exactly what you wanted. Someone strong, and not afraid of showing it. The only problem with your choice was that he wasn’t exactly someone to get along with very well and was even more of an asshole than he already was.

Not something you expected from a man like that. But if it meant you could feel secure in his arms, then so be it. You could live with any kind of attitude. If he just wanted to keep you safe then so be it. You wouldn’t mind at all, actually. You enjoyed being near him, even if it made your heart beat faster and butterflies flutter in your stomach. You thought his roughness was sexy, even if you were slightly scared of him sometimes. And as long as there wasn’t going to be too much violence in the future, maybe you would be able to handle things better. Just give him some time, yet It wasn’t like you couldn’t deal with the bad side of him.

I mean he could be a total dickhead at times, sure, but you could tolerate that, too. He still respected you, afterall, and that was what really mattered. As long as you were happy and satisfied in his arms. And you had been that all this time. All your years of dating with a guy like Carlos Olivera didn’t go wrong. He treated you right, despite your flaws and his ego.

His ego brings out the best in him wether it’s in bed or out of bed, so there is no doubt about what you saw with him in bed that night. He was absolutely gentle, but rough when he kisses you sloppily, his hands firm when they roamed your body, and he took his pleasure in making you squirm underneath him. His tongue is hot and insistent in licking every inch of your skin and his fingers are rough and warm when they caress your breasts through the thin cotton fabric of your tight dress. And his eyes. Oh, Carlos’ eyes looked as if they were dark pools filled with lust and possessiveness. Without hesitation he took off his pants dropping them to the floor, his erection already trying to poke out the side of his boxers. You tried to take his boxers off although he had prioritized in spreading your legs apart and placed his hard member between them, foremost, further apart.

Fingers had trailed straight under the waistband of your dress while his hands started ripping your dress off, and your bra followed. With quick movements he tore the straps and panties away leaving you bare beneath his gaze, completely naked from head to toe. His lips left yours. Carlos began to apply lube to his hardened and throbbing cock, before slowly inserting it inside you, setting a slow movement in and out of you in a way that was torturous in itself. You whimpered from the sensation, but his grip on your hips tightened making the pain go away momentarily. Sloppily beginning to thrust into you, his pace quickened until he hit a certain spot that made you scream with pleasure. “Oh, God...” you moaned breathlessly before closing your eyes.

You never felt that way with anyone else. This is not your first time to say the least, but definitely better than masturbation to say the least. It made you feel so incredibly sensitive that it left you weak, yet at the same time it made you feel powerful and desirable. “That’s my girl…” he growled in a deep voice, grabbing one of your wrists and positioning it over your head as he continued hitting your sweet spot with his thick shaft. You moaned again while tears filled your eyes from the intense pleasure he gave you.

Your breathing started becoming erratic as he kept slamming his heavy cock into you with such force. He held your face, placing soft kisses all over your exposed cheeks and neck, causing goosebumps to appear on your flesh. “You feel so good, baby...” he whispered against your ear. Soon following after with, “Fuck… I’m gonna cum if you keep this up...”

“Don’t stop...” you begged breathless, feeling a shiver go down your spine as Carlos continued pumping his stiffening cock inside you. He kept pressing harder, making you cry out and bite your lip hard to prevent yourself from begging for mercy. “Please don’t stop….” You could hear your own voice quiver slightly, almost like a sob. In a moment you lost your restraint, and threw your head back, arching your back as you screamed loudly. A loud moan escaped your mouth as waves of ecstasy washed over you, and your muscles started tingling from his relentless thrusts into you.

He was getting close, you could tell, and soon he won't hold himself anymore. “Carlos…” you murmured, unable to finish your sentence because your breath was short and labored, and your voice was hoarse from screaming out.

You needed him to get you to your climax and come, now, now, now, you thought.

“Please..please…” you whimpered, feeling your body shaking with both excitement and desperation. Suddenly, everything came rushing in.

The orgasm. Carlos.

Your surroundings. Carlos’ name coming out of your mouth, His scent surrounding your whole being. You felt as if you were being penetrated by a monstrous cock very sloppily, even though you were. His warm and hard cock rubbing against your inner walls in time with his frantic thrusts. “Almost there… ah- hold out a little longer, baby…” Carlos grunted out of breath, panting heavily, his entire body trembling. Your breathing was starting to come out ragged as well, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you climaxed once again. “That’s it, baby… Come for me…” The next few minutes passed by in a blur, each second passing with such intensity it was overwhelming you. Carlos finally stopped after a while, releasing his cum inside you.

Your throat was sore and raw from screaming and your muscles were tense and sore from all the stretching, while your back was arched which he forced you to do as your climax hit. Carlos laid beside you and pulled the sheets up around you as he kissed your temple. "Are you alright?" Your mind was fuzzy as you nodded and snuggled closer into his chest. "...Yeah," was your reply, barely above a whisper. Your eyelids were glued shut, as you struggled to stay awake.

Carlos chuckled softly. "Did I fuck you that hard?" You shook your head and mumbled in reply that you loved how wild he got. "Mmm...you're welcome." After a while you felt tired and sleep began creeping onto your consciousness. Carlos seemed to sense this and wrapped his arms tightly around you to keep you warm as he nuzzled his nose against your cheek. "Get some rest, baby," he said quietly. You hummed in response as you relaxed into his hold, letting yourself drift off to sleep.

You were so tired that you were able to ignore the sound of heavy breathing, but it eventually woke you up when the covers moved slightly. Opening your eyes, and noticing your boyfriend staring at you intently. "Hey...sorry did I wake you up? Go back to sleep..." he whispered kissing the top of your head as he ran his hands gently through your hair. You buried your face deeper into his chest, and let out a small sigh as you cuddled up to his chest. Carlos laughed again, running his hand through your hair one last time before turning off the light with his other hand and lying down behind you, holding you tightly.

"I love you so much..." he said softly, kissing the crown of your head gently.

"Goodnight..." you breathed out before finally closing your eyes and falling asleep, enjoying the soothing warmth of his embrace.

#carlos oliveria smut #carlos oliveria x reader #carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira resident evil #resident evil carlos #resident evil smut #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil 3 #resident evil re3 #resident evil 3 remake #resident evil x reader smut #resident evil x you #resident evil x fem! reader #carlos oliveira x fem! reader #carlos oliveira x reader #carlos oliveira x you #resident evil 🚔

[adoresia]

✦˚₊ TRUST ME I GOT NOTHING FOR YOU OTHER THAN LOVE…

Pairing : E42 Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : Miles finds it hard to open up to you about whats going on in his life, after a little persuading he finally tells you about whats bothering him so much.

Sierra speaks : FIRST OF ALL… thank you guys so much for all the love on my last fic it means so much to me🫶🏾🥹 it took so long for me to build up the courage to start posting… Here is another fic i had in my notes to make you guys happy! I litterally have a bunch of fics and fic ideas stored for myself and now..im sharing them with you!🥳 enjoy!! also this is a little longer than i had planned…

Warnings ❕: Miles almost crying 🥹, rubbish spanish, heavly suggestive (oops), kissing, cussing, teasing???.

Listen too’s :

YALL BETTER LISTEN TO THE SONGS I PAIR WITH THESE FICS ISTG.

You leaned on the railing on your balcony, eyes fixated on Miles’s tall figure walking back and forth outside your apartment complex.

It was well pass midnight and the street lights were the only thing illuminating the darkness of your Brooklyn neighbourhood.

He was by himself smoking a blunt. He knew you hated when he smoked so he attempted to keep it from you, however this time he couldn’t really hold himself back.

Life was dragging him through the dirt right now, with the passing of his father and the pressure of being prowler on his back, you could almost mistake Miles for being mute. A part of his life had been ripped away.

And you couldn’t blame him.

It was a struggle for him to open up to you, and despite being together for almost a year, he still struggled to talk to you, to fully open up to you. And even though you welcomed him into your life with open arms, he still did not feel complete. Nothing could replace what he had lost.

Before Miles had found himself outside the both of you were cuddling. With Miles laid between both of your legs, his head rested on your chest while you massaged his scalp with your nails.

Since his arrival he had not uttered a word to you apart from :

“hey baby, ima just stay here from a bit if thats okay.”

He hugged you tight, even tighter than ever before. You could tell something was up, but you let him go at his own pace, weather he wanted to tell you about it or not he knew you would always be there for him.

So here you both lay in silence on your bed, your sheets draped over the both of you. It was like that for an hour. Miles fiddling with the hem of your bra staring at your desk chair.

He blinked like 20 times in the last hour, you could tell he was lost in his thoughts. He looked so over it, and it pained you that there was nothing you could do to help him liven up a little. You kept assuring yourself that it would be temporary. Seeing Miles sad made you sad.

But as the minuted went by Miles stay lost in his sunken thoughts. You couldn’t bare watch him in this state for any longer, even if it meant you had to push him a little.

“What’s wrong hermoso? i’ve never seen you so…down.”

“Nada, Mami. just... thinking.”

“About what papa? sabes que puedes decirme cualquier cosa.”

Miles responded with a hum, not bothering to open his mouth again as it was smushed against your cleavage. The familiar sound of silence re-entered the room, theres nothing else you could say.

“Ima go outside for a bit baby, ill be back.”

He lifted himself off of you so suddenly, sliding on his shoes and giving you a peck on the top of your head without even giving you time to process.

“Where are you going? do you want me to come with-“

“No. I’ll only be a few seconds chiquita.”

“but.”

There were no ‘buts’ he had already shut your door before you could bombard him with questions. Instead your mind filled with them.

Did you push him away? Did you ask too much? say, too much?

Thats how you found yourself staring down at him in the middle of the night, worried. His puffer jacket stay thrown on your desk chair, he had not even thought about bringing it with him, knowing it was quite cold outside. Was he really that desperate to leave? to leave you?

You took a deep breath and decided it was about time you went down for him. You picked up your hoodie, or rather his hoodie; one you stole from him when you went over to his place, sliding into it like a huge blanket.

You put on your slides and grabbed his puffer jacket. Leaving your phone behind.

Pressing on the exit button of your apartment complex you stepped outside. Making sure to put a block on the door so it wouldn’t close, trapping you outside.

You walked towards him almost tip toeing so he couldn’t hear you. You came to a stop behind him watching the smoke blow away with the wind while he brought his arm down beside him, blunt in hand.

“I know your there ma.”

“…”

he laughed looking over his shoulder, you smiled handing him his puffer.

“Its so cold out here even this hoodie isn’t doing me justice, put your jacket on Milo.”

He took his jacket from your hands holding it to his side, seemingly unfazed by your words and the cold.

“Not as an accessory, miles. Put it on. Please.”

“You’re shivering ma, you look like you need it more than i do.”

And instead he places each of the arm holes over your shoulder. You gave up, there was no point in convincing him, and anyways you were still cold even with his giant hoodie on. Goosebumps laddered on your thighs because of your extra short- shorts.

“Hand me the blunt at least. You know i don’t like when you smoke.”

You held your hand out so he could replace the cold air blowing over your palm with the wrapped blunt.

“Yeah im sorry. I’ll try to stop.”

“Sorry doesn’t mean anything if your not gonna change.”

“I know ma. I promise I’ll try.”

“Good.” You stood in-front of him, squinting your eyes.

“Where yo glasses?”

“Inside.”

“Why didn’t you bring them?”

“Because i wasn’t thinking about that at the time. Which actually beings me to why i’m here. I’m worried about you, Miles. You won’t talk to me and if you let these feelings bottle up inside you it won’t…end well.”

“What your gonna break up with me if i dont talk?”

“No… i meant-“

“Then i don’t need to talk. As long as i have you with me theres no need to worry.”

Silence filled the atmosphere between you two again. Miles could sense your disappointment. He let a moment go by watching you huff as you gave up trying to figure out whats wrong with him. You started to make your way back to your apartment before he stopped you with his words.

“Its Ma.”

You spun yourself around to face his back.

“mhmmm.” you signalled for him to continue, walking towards him.

“I aint never seen her this down since dad passed. Her job is taking every single ounce of energy and happiness out of her, she leaves at like 6 in the morning to come home at God knows what time during the night and falls asleep on the couch. She doesn’t have time to even get anything to eat before she has to get up again the next morning to go to work. I can count on my fingers the amount of words she’s said to me this whole week. And last night…”

He came to an abrupt stop, bringing his pointer finger and thumb up to the inner part of his eyes trying to stop himself from crying in front of you.

He let his bottom lip fall letting out a sigh.

“Its okay Milo, you don’t have to finish the rest if you don’t want to. It’s just you and me bonito you can cry, déjalo salir.”

Still with your reassurance he refused to let you see him in this state, but was unable to control the single tear that threatened to drop.

You wiped both his eyes with the pads of your thumb until there was no tears left on his face or his waterline.

“Milo, you don’t have to act all big nd tuff around me. Everyone cries yknow?” you looked up at him while wrapping your arms around him.

“You are so good to me mi amor, ion deserve you.”

“Corny. But i know.” you smiled closing your eyes in his embrace.

he laughed breathily before giving you a kiss to your forehead.

He held your hand turning his head signaling for you both to go back inside.

“It’s low-key getting a bit cold now. I think the only thing keeping me warm was that weed.”

He looked at the now smushed up ball what remained from his blunt. Before eyeing you up and down.

“Cmon lets go, not even these two layers are keeping me warm.”

You pulled on his arm directing him back inside the apartment complex.

Once you got to your door you scrambled everywhere for your keys. Your short pockets, Jacket pockets, hoodie pockets, shit you even checked your afro. Before you thought back to when you grabbed Miles’s jacket and left the room while your keys sat still on your desk.

“Fuck. were locked out.”

“You for real?”

“Nah im just pretending i left the keys inside so we can stay out here in the cold.” you rolled your eyes, thinking maybe that wouldn’t he a bad idea as long as you were with Miles.

He leaned against the wall next to your apartment door pulling you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his torso and laid your head on his chest, the beat of his heart ringing in your ears.

His lips hovered over your head before placing gentle kisses on your scalp.

“How many kisses are you gonna give me Milo.”

“You want me to stop?”

“No..” You smiled to yourself.

“Then stop complaining.”

Lifting his hand from your waist Miles cupped your chin lifting it up so that your eyes would lay on his. His pupil fell to your lips and then back to your eyes. You knew what was up.

“No.”

“Fuck you mean ‘No’.”

Miles mimicked you while you laughed at him, he looked at you unamused.

“Im joking Milo, kiss me.”

“No.”

“FUCK YOU MEAN NO?”

Now it was Miles’s turn to laugh, although you didn’t find it funny a smile still crept up on your face as you narrowed your eyes at him and pondered.

His laugh reminded you of him 2 years ago, when he had a softer personality, happily striding to you or anyone around him with a proud smile on his face, you missed it. And you know he did too.

You stood up still leaning on him but on the tip of your toes. You wrapped your hand around his nape and pulled him in for a well anticipated kiss.

Your lips locked with his, coming together like a jigsaw puzzle. For a moment you envisioned kissing Miles for the first time a year ago, how he didn’t see you coming when you pecked him on the lips. And how he pulled you back kissing you desperately with deep desire.

You lifted up your other arm and wrapped it around his neck while you played with the tip of his braids. Miles wondered his hands down from underneath your shirt to just under your ass. His fingers pushed gently against your skin shooting tingles throughout your body.

At this point your knees were getting weak as your head swayed against his, your mind went into a haze as the heat from the kiss sent you into a bliss. You felt Miles tug on your bottom lip granting himself access to your mouth.

Both your heads sped up the pace bobbing over eachother in sync, Miles feeling insatiable lifted you up to sit on his hips as he turned you both around. You now leaned back on the wall while he rubbed the bottom of your thighs still insatiably kissing you.

Your eyebrows furrowed with pleasure until he pulled away, you both stared into eachothers narrowed eyes breathing heavily.

“Fuck if we were inside right now, the things i’d do to you mami.”

“Break down the door if your that desperate.”

His head fell into your chest as he chuckled. You laid your head on top of his for a while before he let you down.

You both sat outside your apartment door, you on top of miles in a fetal position. Your coat draped over the two of you (barley) as he stroked your forehead with his thumb.

“Te quiero mucho ma, hasta la luna y de regreso.”

He whispered before placing another kiss on your forehead.

“hmm? whatchu say Milo?”

“Nada mami, cierra tus ojos.”

Extrs :

— Yeah your keys were inside, but so were your parents😭 so when your mom opened the door that morning to head of to work the both of you lay there snoring, with your arms wrapped around eachother.

— When you took Miles’s blunt you tried a little yourself 🤫

“Ma.. what are you-”

*heavy coughing*

“so im not allowed but you are-?”

“sh. i was just seeing what the hype was all about *cough* I-I feel like im dying”

Miles just laughs at you.

© All rights reserved to @444morales on tumblr.

Please do not copy, translate or repost my work on any other platforms.

#🖋️ sierra writes #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x you #spiderman atsv #atsv miles #prowler miles #prowler x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x you

[wholoveseggs]

Hey, happy new year! Love your Elijah fics. Maybe you could do one where he turns off his humanity and the reader gets him to turn it back on again. :)

Cold Truth

{Masterlist}

You and Klaus are on a mission to turn Elijah's humanity switch back on. The only problem is that you are the reason he turned it off in the first place.

~♡♡ Thanks for the request @originals23 - this one hurt! ♡♡~

4.3k words - Warnings: no smut, but so much angst, dramatic as fuck, violence, kidnapping, Klaus being Klaus, slightly spicy right at the end.

The air was thick with tension as you struggled in your restraints, glancing at Klaus as he drove down an empty street. He was humming to himself, looking very relaxed despite the fact that he was holding you hostage.

"I still don't understand what this has to do with me," you muttered, tugging on the cuffs that were binding your hands together. "We broke up, it's not a big deal," you added.

"Well, it seems to be a big deal to him," Klaus said, shooting you a knowing smirk. "And it's been affecting my life, so now it's a big deal to me."

You sighed and stared out the window, watching the scenery blur as you moved through the town. You didn't want to tell Klaus the details of your break up with Elijah, it was all too painful. But here you were, getting kidnapped by him, on your way to see Elijah, probably about to get murdered by the man you still loved. Great. 

"It won't work you know," you said, staring blankly out the windshield, feeling that little bit of hope in your chest die out. 

"I get that he doesn't have emotions anymore," you continued, "so he definitely doesn't care about you. Whatever little plan you have going, won't work." You sounded desperate to even your own ears, and you hated it, but at least Elijah's lack of feelings gave you an excuse not to be a complete mess when you were in his presence again. He wouldn't care, he was devoid of compassion and guilt. The thought filled your heart with an emptiness that spread to the rest of your body. You let the feeling encompass you, numbing yourself against the pain, because once this ordeal was over, you would be forced to finally accept that Elijah was really, truly, lost forever.

Klaus laughed and turned, shooting you a smirk. "I've done my fair share of terrible things," he began.

"But," he sighed and stopped laughing, "even I can see what a complete shit show this is. You broke up with him a week ago, and he flipped the switch immediately. This whole thing has been dramatic, even for my tastes."

"Oh please," you sneered, turning to glare at him. "You live for drama," you said, rolling your eyes.

Klaus snickered, shaking his head as if it were the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "Yes, well, as fun as this has been, there's only so much of it I can take."

You huffed and sighed, slumping in your seat as the light turned green. You turned away from him and tried not to let your anxiety show.

"Look," Klaus began, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "I'm going to be straight with you, love. Your break up with Elijah has been, inconvenient, to put it simply. He no longer cares about my well-being or the things I do. All he wants to do is feed, kill, drink and maim. I thought I would enjoy this side of him, but it turns out, the guy's a bloody asshole. And since you might have the ability to bring him out of this mess, it's in my best interest to try and help you."

You turned your head slowly, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. "You sure do have a way of showing it. Kidnapping is pretty terrible Klaus. Do you have any idea how scared I am right now? Not only have you kidnapped me, you are forcing me to confront my ex-boyfriend after I dumped him."

"I've done plenty to upset Elijah, but he's never flipped the switch over it. What exactly did you do to him?" Klaus demanded. He leaned closer to you, and his grip on the steering wheel tightened as he parked the car. "I'd suggest you start talking, sweetheart," he drawled, giving you a pointed look.

You bit your lip nervously, breaking under his intense gaze. Your shoulders dropped in defeat and you looked at your lap, chewing the inside of your cheek. You told him the truth, finally letting someone in on the secret you had kept from everyone.

"I told him that I didn't love him anymore, okay? I don't know," you trailed off, tears threatening to escape your eyes. "Look, I just, I needed to tell him something and that seemed easier than telling him the truth."

"So what's the truth?" Klaus asked gently. You couldn't bear to look him in the eye, so you stayed still and stayed quiet, trying to ignore the sound of blood rushing in your ears as you fought the urge to cry. After a few seconds, Klaus said your name softly, and when you looked up at him, there was genuine sympathy in his eyes.

You swallowed, trying to get ahold of yourself before you fell apart completely. "I want children, Klaus," you admitted. "And he can't give them to me. But it's okay, we broke up, and I'm fine." You were most definitely not fine, but that was beside the point. You finally confessed the truth, and felt a small bit of relief.

"Oh," he said. "Do you not want to adopt? Wouldn't surrogacy be an option? I can make a phone call and have a baby delivered to your door by tomorrow," he offered. You laughed, appreciating his attempts to make you feel better.

"No, Klaus. I'm sorry. I appreciate you trying, really I do," you said, giving him a sincere smile. "I want to have his child, and that is... well... impossible," you sighed.

There was a moment of silence, and you wondered what he was thinking. Klaus could be a lot of things, but you could tell he truly loved his siblings, no matter how much he claimed otherwise. His devotion was almost as intense as Elijah's and fear bubbled up in your stomach, knowing you were now in the crossfire of his affections for his older brother.

"You aren't still in love with him, are you?" Klaus asked. You felt your insides tremble at the mere mention of Elijah, but it wasn't enough to make your heart skip a beat or your head swirl. All you could feel was sorrow, because you knew how painful it would be to see him again. To be near him, but unable to touch him.

Klaus tilted his head, waiting for your answer. When he didn't get one, he asked again. "Answer the question, love," he said.

"Of course I still love him," you mumbled. "How could I not? I will always love him." You chuckled sadly, shaking your head and shrugging. 

"Good, that will make this easier," Klaus said cheerfully, not sure how to react as he began fiddling with the radio station.

"He's going to kill me Klaus," you said, your voice flat and emotionless. "You're dragging me to him, and he's going to torture me or compel me into doing something bad and then when he's finished, he's going to kill me."

"Yes, possibly," Klaus agreed. "However, you could also bring him back and thus make my life a bit easier."

"We can only hope," you sighed. Klaus started driving towards the docks and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to control the terror building within you.

"Klaus, where are we going?" you asked warily, looking around.

"Well, my dear brother isn't answering his phone, so I'm tracking it instead," he said, gritting his teeth as he continued driving.

"Can we please just leave him alone?" you begged, but he didn't seem to hear you.

"Please," you added. "I'm begging you, Klaus. Don't torture me like this, I'm not strong enough to lose him twice."

"I really don't care how you feel about this, darling," he said, reaching a hand up and patting your head, before returning it to the steering wheel. "But don't worry, I promise I won't let him kill you."

You would have responded, but Klaus took the last turn and parked in front of one of the ships on the docks. He removed the handcuffs, his eyes darting about your surroundings in paranoia as he grabbed your wrists and dragged you out of the car. You didn't put up a fight and let him pull you along, too frightened and confused to even think about struggling. This wasn't what you had been expecting when Klaus took you, and now you didn't know what to say, so you remained silent and obedient. Klaus released his grip and took a step back, heading up the ramp to the ship.

You took a shaky breath and followed him, shivering a bit as you stepped on board. There was music playing, and while the exterior of the boat looked fairly plain, the inside was quite posh and immaculately decorated. You hesitated, glancing at Klaus, but he nodded his head and you followed him into a room. You could sense that Elijah was close. You slowly breathed in and your nose twitched when you caught the strong scent of bourbon.

"I see you have already begun celebrating, brother," Klaus drawled, glancing around the room.

"That depends on how you define celebration," came a quiet response, and you shuddered at the sound of his voice. It was Elijah, your Elijah, his words ringing with a lack of inflection that wasn't entirely evident in his tone. It had a falsely polite, and strangely charming touch, like the cold indifference and arrogance that comes from experiencing and achieving total freedom.

You watched as he poured himself another glass, sitting back in a chair. He stared straight ahead, not meeting your eyes as he lifted the glass to his lips, swirling the alcohol, tipping it slightly, and watching it roll around, before putting it down again, not even having taken a sip. You sniffed, doing your best to control your emotions and expression as you watched him, but your mask was slipping, and you couldn't hide the raw pain in your voice when you spoke.

"Are you okay?" you asked, sounding raspy and hoarse, even to your own ears. Normally, it would have made him feel guilty to hear you like this. Maybe he would have replied in his usual soft, intimate tone, grabbing your chin and kissing your lips gently, holding you close. But your Elijah was dead, and there was nothing left but the monster the switch had transformed him into. You glanced at his face and looked away immediately, the coldness in his dark eyes sinking into your soul. They were beautiful, and deadly, gazing at you in cold assessment, and his expression did not change as he gave you a humorless smile.

"I have never been better," he replied, not moving from his relaxed position on the chair, though you noticed a slight tightening in his jaw when you opened your mouth to speak again. You quickly snapped it shut and watched as he tapped the glass with his finger, gazing around the room and sighing. You didn't know if his admission was a good or a bad thing, but the way he carried himself, all arrogant grace and calculated casualness, had alarm bells ringing in your head, telling you that you were in great danger.

It was worse than you had expected. The man you loved, the one who had treated you with such gentleness and tenderness, the man whose heart was filled with love, loyalty and affection for you, was not present at all.

"We shouldn't have come here," you blurted out, your throat constricting at the sudden fear gripping you. His eyes flicked up to look at you, his brow furrowed as he stared. You cleared your throat, casting a worried glance at Klaus, who was standing by the bar, sipping his own drink and watching the whole scene play out.

"Why? What is the problem?" Elijah asked, and you couldn't tell if he was acting cavalier or genuinely didn't care. "You said you wanted to break up, and I obliged you. So tell me," he said, his dark eyes meeting yours, "why are you here?"

"Because," you began, but quickly lost your train of thought, shaking your head and trying to shake the overwhelming urge to cry. You sucked in a deep breath, tilting your chin up as you spoke. "Because we still have stuff we need to talk about, and we can't when you are like this."

"Like what?" he asked, sounding bored. Your jaw clenched as he casually poured himself more alcohol, draining the contents of his glass quickly and sighing.

"Well," Klaus interrupted, walking over and leaning forward on his knees, "You could start by being a tad less cocky, and try actually listening."

Elijah smirked at him, arching an eyebrow. "Niklaus, I suggest you shut your mouth before I rip your tongue out."

"That would be amusing," Klaus shot back, rolling his eyes. "I'd like to see you try, or have you forgotten I am stronger than you? You can't hurt me."

"Hmm," Elijah hummed thoughtfully, staring intently at his younger brother. "Let's test that."

Before either of you could react, Elijah reached out and grabbed the back of Klaus' head, yanking him forward and bringing his face inches from his own. He glared at him, snarling as Klaus groaned in pain.

"Don't be ridiculous," Klaus growled, his fingers flexing. Klaus easily pried his hands off of him and forced him to release him. He shoved Elijah back into the chair, a vicious smirk on his face as he crossed his arms.

"Eli," you said, tears welling up in your eyes. You moved to touch his arm, but he snatched it out of your reach and pushed it back, baring his fangs at you, his eyes completely black.

"Do not call me that," he responded coldly, shaking his head.

"You shouldn't have brought her," Elijah said to his brother, and you felt the sadness you had been suppressing all day come rushing back full force. You would not be strong enough to get through this.

"Oh don't blame me, dear brother," Klaus retorted, clasping his hands together and glaring at him in frustration. "It's very much her fault that you turned your humanity off, so I brought her here to fix her mistake."

"A mistake I care not to rectify," Elijah said, lifting his chin up haughtily.

"Oh," Klaus scoffed, fixing him with a nasty glare, "I bet you don't."

"Shut up," you mumbled, blinking furiously. Your legs were shaking, your knees about to give out as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Klaus stepped closer to you and you leaned against him, trembling, clinging to his shirt.

"Get a grip," Klaus hissed, glaring down at you in annoyance. He wrapped a hand around your throat and turned you around to face Elijah. His grip tightened, and you gasped in surprise and pain, your eyes wide as they met Elijah's intense gaze. He couldn't take his eyes off of you, something within him stirred at the sight of your fear, but it was buried beneath the ice of his indifference. Elijah narrowed his eyes as he stood up, smoothing down his tie as he approached.

"Niklaus, you are so painfully transparent," he began, an edge of amusement coloring his tone, "I do not care if you hurt her," he added, and his words cut deeper than any physical blow could.

"Eli," you pleaded, a soft whisper of pure agony coming from your lips, "How could you possibly say that? You swore you would always take care of me, protect me." He lowered his eyes, studying your features carefully. He looked down at you, stroking his chin.

"Hmm, you know, now that you say that, I'm feeling a little thirsty," he said, chuckling and stepping closer.

You shut your eyes, stifling a sob and trying to hide the fact that his words had broken your heart, shattering it into pieces. You couldn't bear his mockery, it was almost worse than not having him at all. It made the excruciating pain much more unbearable. Elijah stared at you, leaning closer and brushing a stray hair off of your cheek.

His lips hovered over yours for a split second, causing your lips to part in surprise and confusion, wanting his mouth to capture yours, knowing that the press of his lips was something you would always miss. Even when he was a monster, you felt yourself reacting to him instinctively, wanting nothing more than to be with him. But the kiss did not come, and he pulled away before you could rise to meet him.

"Do you think she knows how many ways she can die?" Elijah asked his brother, and Klaus sighed heavily, rubbing his temples in frustration. "I mean, with enough patience and creativity, even the simplest forms of death, can be quite extraordinary," he drawled.

Klaus pulled you back from Elijah, his grip on you tightening, you weren't sure who you feared more in that moment. "Elijah, I made a promise that I would not let you kill her," Klaus said, and Elijah rolled his eyes, his jaw clenching and his eyes narrowing.

"That promise can easily be broken," he said, as if talking about the weather.

"Actually, I thought I would take a page out of your book, find a loophole in the promise I made," Klaus said, his voice taunting as he smiled cruelly. You stopped breathing at his words, your body going rigid, Klaus was going to kill you.

"Elijah?" you whispered desperately, praying that he would protect you from Klaus. You were so cold, and you couldn't move, rooted in place with fear. He turned around abruptly, shrugging his shoulders as he walked across the room to make a new drink.

"You can go ahead and drain her if you so wish. It makes no difference to me," he said.

"Sorry love, I have to call his bluff," Klaus said, patting your head and then running a hand through your hair as his fangs grazed your neck. His voice was dark and malicious. "Say your goodbyes," he smirked.

"Klaus, please," you cried, panic coursing through you, but before he could do anything more, Elijah lunged at him, tearing him away from you. Your back hit the floor hard, your head snapping against the wood, causing you to see stars. You cradled your head, tasting blood in your mouth as you rolled on the floor. Elijah tackled Klaus, growling and snarling viciously, his fingers clenched around his brother's neck as he pinned him to the ground.

"Don't you dare lay a finger on her," Elijah warned, but Klaus only smirked, using all his strength to shove Elijah off of him. Elijah's back connected with a pillar, falling to the floor as he clutched his head. He just sat there, head in his hands, his shoulders slumped, taking quick, shuddering breaths, attempting to regain some sort of composure. You crawled your way over to him, too dazed to stand up.

"Eli," you gasped, lifting his face up and forcing him to look at you. He didn't try to pull away, letting you caress his jaw. You slowly stroked his hair, shushing him gently as your fingers trailed over his cheekbones.

"Get away from me," he groaned, grabbing your wrist to keep you from touching him. His mind was reeling from the violent overload of emotions coursing through him. Having you here, so close to him, wanting him, loving him, it overwhelmed him, bringing back every single moment he had spent with you, every beautiful, painful, joyous moment of his entire existence.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," you sobbed, reaching out to touch him. He wasn't pushing you away, he was just sitting there, hunched over, breathing heavily. Your mind was too foggy to think about the consequences of your actions. There was an excruciating ache in your chest, and you needed Elijah to hold you.

You threw your arms around his shoulders and pressed your lips to the back of his neck, nuzzling him and letting tears stream down your face. He stilled, not fighting you, but not holding you.

"I lied to you Elijah, I'm sorry," you whispered, pressing your face into the crook of his neck as you hugged him tighter. "I love you, I never stopped. I'm sorry, please forgive me."

He didn't move, keeping his expression guarded as he put an arm around you, turning his body slightly to pull you in closer. He tilted his chin down and pressed his lips to the side of your head in a gentle kiss. His eyes were closed, your scent invading his nose, your hair tickling his neck. He sighed, your words, your presence, it was like a spark lighting up a flame of emotions in his chest as the switch in his head turned back on.

"I could never stop loving you," he murmured, opening his eyes and sitting up a bit, keeping you close to him.

"Well, looks like my work is done. Do give her a ride home when you are done, Elijah," Klaus drawled, smirking in triumph as he stood watching you, before swiftly making his way out of the room.

Elijah gripped your chin gently and forced you to turn to face him. You were horrified by the sadness in his dark eyes, but the relief you felt at seeing the love there tore you apart, and you burst into tears, gripping his face and pulling him towards you, kissing his lips, his jaw, his forehead, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist.

"Darling," he sighed, looking down at your tear stained face. He gently ran his thumb over your cheekbone, bringing your forehead to his as he just held you.

"Forgive me, I-I-was so scared," you managed to get out, but he hushed you, your breathing synchronizing as he hugged you tightly, running a hand through your hair.

"Why did you lie to me?" he asked, pulling away and stroking your neck, your pulse fluttering beneath his touch.

"I was afraid," you replied, sniffing and wiping your tears. "I didn't want to hurt you, I thought it would be easier to let you go if I pushed you away instead."

"What were you afraid of?" he questioned, guiding your face up, needing to see your beautiful, tear filled eyes.

"I was terrified at the prospect of getting old, growing old, and putting you through that. You'd have to watch as you lived a lifetime with me, and eventually I would be gone and you would be left alone," you gasped out, the words flowing out unbidden, unable to control yourself now that the gates had been opened. "and.. I want children of my own, and a family, I can't have all of that with you. This past week I've been so torn, I thought leaving you was the best thing to do, because I knew my choice would hurt you, and you didn't deserve that, and I didn't know how else to do this."

Elijah smiled sadly, shaking his head and cupping your cheeks. "None of that matters, my darling, and it never will. Don't you understand that? You are worth the heartache, the pain, the loss. You are worth being human for."

He kissed you gently, brushing your hair out of your face, causing more tears to slip down your cheeks as you fisted your hands in his shirt, allowing him to pour all of his love and heartache into the kiss. You were left breathless, staring into his eyes, seeing the sadness there that matched yours.

"As for children, I know a few witches that could help us solve that issue," he said. You blinked rapidly, stunned that his answer was so easy, simple. The corners of his lips quirked up, and you felt your heart thundering in your chest, desperate to have him, keep him forever.

"Do you want that? To have children with me?" you asked, your hands in his, hoping, praying, that he truly understood what he was getting himself into.

"With you, yes, anything you wish for, I will give you," he replied, resting his head on your shoulder, and nuzzling your neck. You drew in a deep breath, so relieved and overcome with a surge of emotions that you grabbed his head and planted another firm, passionate kiss on his lips.

He chuckled, a deep, soothing sound that had you smiling despite all the tears you were shedding. Your fingers were clutching at his shirt, dragging him closer to you as you continued to kiss him, memorizing everything, his taste, the curves of his lips, the way his tongue felt against yours. He put his arm around your waist, and shifted, scooping you up into his lap, and into his arms.

"When was the last time we made love?" he whispered against your lips, pulling away and looking into your eyes, his gaze caressing your features softly.

"Three months," you whispered, stroking his stubbled jaw, running your fingers over his lips, marveling at the feel of his warm, soft skin, thinking that you almost never had the chance to be with him again.

"That's much too long," he murmured, sliding his hands up your thighs and grinning seductively. You chuckled, feeling a heated blush creep up your neck and spread across your cheeks. His fingers traced the edge of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"I love you, Elijah Mikaelson," you said, grinning broadly as your fingers threaded through his hair, savoring the feel of it. He just sat, staring at you with warmth and adoration, unspoken love shining in his deep brown eyes.

"For eternity, I will love you, my y/n," he whispered, pressing his lips gently against yours, and you melted into him, gripping the back of his neck as you felt a piece of your soul slide back into place, wrapped tightly around his heart.

#elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvdu #vampire diaries #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine #klaus mikaelson imagine #klelijah

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 1

Alec Lightwood + Praise Kink

Happy first day of kinktober everyone. I’ve got a lot more schoolwork this year (curse you psychology) but ill be doing my best to try and keep up with my posting.

I’m gonna be honest I haven’t watched Shadowhunters in a long time, but Alec and Magnus still mean a lot to me. So, this is super vague about background stuff, cuz I can’t remember any of the plot from the show or books.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist

Alec found himself sighing as he leaned back in the chair behind his desk, his hand reaching up to rub at his aching temples. He took his duty very seriously, but at times it could do nothing but cause pains and aches throughout his body and psyche. Not only that, but his work kept him apart from you, sometimes for days or even weeks at a time. Alec had known at the time when he gained his rank that this work would fill much of his life, but now that he had finally found his way to you, it almost didn’t feel worth it.

Alec sighed softly as he got out of his seat, there was no reason to keep working any more tonight. At this point he had stared at those reports enough that he was seeing double, and the thought of your shared bed was like an angel’s call. With that in mind, the shadowhunter found himself almost floating to your shared room, a new edition to your relationship. Neither of you even had much time to spend in this room, as you were both important people in your circles and both took your duties seriously.

It was because of this that Alec didn’t even think about you being present when he entered the dimly lit room, his eyelids heavy and half shut as he pulled off his clothes robotically, folding it up neatly and placing it off to the side to go in the laundry in the morning. It was only when he fell onto the bed, now only clad his boxers, that he noticed the second presence in the room. He almost jolted up with shock, but your arm wrapped warmly and securely around his waist, pulling your lover close as you nuzzled into the back of his stiff neck.

“there’s my pretty boy” you rumble, your voice thick with sleep but also the love and admiration you have for Alec. Alec only allows himself to huff a little, feeling embarrassed at your sweet words. He had never gotten used to being complimented or praised, so when you peppered sleepy kisses on his neck and mumbled about his beautiful, he was and how strong he was, the shadowhunter felt himself grow hotter in the face.

“Look at you, all tense” you huff, your warm hands running up and down the planes of Alecs torso as you hook your chin over his shoulder, your thumbs rubbing just below his pecs, the action causing him to twitch and exhale sharply. “Always working so hard for everyone, but you never take care of yourself” you mumble, your lips pressed to the side of his neck. You can’t help but nibble on the skin there, letting your tongue flatten against the rune on his neck.

“Guess that’s why you have me, isn’t it” you almost tease, your hands finally grabbing his tight pecs in your palms, giving him a loving squeeze, making your sensitive lover whine. “Always such a diligent, good boy, aren’t you?” you croon, giving both of his nipples a quick pinch and twist, enjoying the punched-out noise that leaves Alec at the action. You had always loved how sensitive he was, and how easily you could work him up with just a few touches and sweet words.

“My good boy” you purr, hands traveling down his torso at a snail’s pace, almost in a worshipping manner as you feel out every shape that makes up his body, basking in the shaky way he breaths and how he can’t seem to keep his legs still. “My pretty boy” you hum, your thumbs teasing at the elastic of his underwear, an almost catlike smirk on your lips as you let your lover stew in the need and want running through his tired body.

“Just lay back Alec, ill take care of you” you mutter, using your grip to pull him further against your chest, your hips grinding into his own from behind. Alec shakily exhales but seems to melt in your arms, his muscles untensing as you fold his boxers down under his sack, releasing his hardness to the darkness of your shared room.

“Ill always take care of you. Because you are so good, and so beautiful. So smart, and so considerate of everyone around you” you keep mumbling, one of your hands wrapping around where Alec craves you the most. The noise that leaves him sounds drawn out and almost painful, like he had wanted you to touch him for so long. There isn’t a need for lube, as you don’t have to do much to work Alec how he needs it, at the moment he doesn’t need anything wild, he just needs your touch and presence.

The loose grip you have around him and the lazy way you stroke him is enough to have Alec twitching and jolting, his mouth open as he gasps and whimpers, words long gone from his person as he arches his hips into your hand. How you feel about him is impossible to express in words, so you keep laying every compliment you can think of on him as you kiss and suck at his neck and shoulder.

His keens rise in volume, his voice wobbly and almost hoarse as he begs in broken words. “Go on baby. Good boy, come on, be good and give it to me” you rumble, reaching up with your free hand to give one of his nipples a rough pinch and twist. Its all Alec needs to finish, his hips jolting almost painfully into your hand as his essence spills across the sheets in thick white stripes, painting your black sheets in a different shade.

You barely are able to withdraw from his back before Alec is asleep, the exhaustion of the multiple days of nonstop work and the euphoria of his orgasm knocking him out cold. With a soft chuckle, you kiss his temple and start cleaning up, moving him around to change him out of his underwear into a new pair, and getting new sheets on the bed. As you cuddle against his back again, this time under the sheets, you smile softly to yourself as you kiss the back of his neck. “I love you so much, my sweet boy” you whisper before shutting your eyes, burying your face into his hair, and inhaling his scent, letting the familiar scent carry you off into the land of sleep.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #shadowhunters #alec lightwood #male reader #shadowhunters imagine #shadowhunters headcanon #shadowhunters x male reader #shadowhunters x reader #alec lightwood imagine #alec lightwood headcanon #alec lightwood x male reader #alec lightwood x reader #alexander lightwood imagine #alexander lightwood headcanon #alexander lightwood x male reader #alexander lightwood x reader

[lovingmattysposts]

My Best Friend’s Brother

P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12

pairing: y/n and Chris sturniolo

alright guys this is my first post so treat it nicely, but this is only the first part so let me know if you want the next part :)

Summary: You & Nick have been best friends forever. There was nothing you couldn’t tell him. You move in for a little while after something bad goes down in your own home, but that means living with his brothers. One brother you got along with, the other not so much….

warnings!! Mentions of a toxic, abusive household, cursing, mentions of not eating well, puking, mention of anxiety and depression

no smut yet…

Pain. Pain and suffering. Something I was born from and have lived to deal with my entire life. Sometimes I thought I was at my very worst. I would think to myself, there is nothing worse than this. The pain corsating through my entire body when my parents would scream at me. Or when my father would throw things at me and my mom turned a blind eye. I would stare up in my bedroom wishing for it to all go away. The pain at least. 

I thought that one day the pain would just go away, that I would eventually end up numb. But when they day came, it didn't. The pain was still there, just as it was before. Just the reaction was numb, at least the aftermath. Back then, my childhood filled with not toys and cherished memories, but hiding, screaming, fighting and holding my teddy bear wondering why my parents didn't love me the way they were suppose to. The way my friends parents loved them. All the trips to Disney land I never got, all of the empty presents under the tree, the forgotten birthdays, they still weren't the worst of it. 

This was. 

I blinked my eyes up towards the stars, still silent. The only sounds between us were the chirping of crickets. Crickets who probably had parents that cared about them more than I did. I swallowed as I watched a plane pass over us silently. Silence killed some people, but not me. Sometimes it was the only peace I ever got. Silence meant good. It meant everything was calm. Everything was okay. I craved silence.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Nick whispered beside me after a few minutes. I blinked at the sky, not turning towards him. Nick was my best friend. There was nothing I couldn't talk to Nick about. He was always there for me even when I would just sit in silence, he would just be there. He would always be there. He's the greatest best friend of all best friends in the world. 

Nick sat up peering down at me as I glanced from the sky to him. 

"How are you feeling?" He asked softly. I still hadn't cried. That was the scariest part of it all. Usually my emotions would take over me. Hitting me with the hardest gust of wind, like a truck. But this time it didn't. I was numb. I waited for the reaction, the emotions to come, but it hadn't yet. I was starting to think it would never come. 

"Numb" I said quietly. Nick frowned at me and brushed a piece of hair behind my ear. "I'm always going to be here y/n. I promise" He smiled. I just looked at him. I sat up looking down at my hands. 

"I feel like I should be happy right?" I said looking up at him. He just listened. "But I'm not" I shook my head. I wish I could pinpoint how i was feeling but I couldn't and I hated it. I sighed. "He's still my dad" I breathed. Nick nodded. Nick knew everything about my family history. I told him everything. He was the first one I called after it happened. He picked me up and we drove where we always came to think. Lincoln Park. 

I loved it here, because it was quite. No loud noises. No screaming, no fighting, just good memories. One of the last places for me that only held the good memories. 

"Did you tell Matt and Chris where you were going?" I asked looking at him. He nodded. He never lied to his brothers and I admired that, but it doesn't mean I want them to know. I looked down. "I didn't give them any details, I just said that it was your dad and that you needed me" He said looking at me, clearing my mind. I nodded. 

Matt and Chris were Nick's brothers. He's one of three. They are triplets. A bond that could never be broken. I wish I had some family like that. I liked them enough. I liked Matt, he was quite, but nice. Chris was harder to get along with. We are both strong headed people with lots of opinions so we tended to butt heads a lot. I wouldn't consider them my friends, but they were Nick's brothers. They had a part of Nick in them, which made me care for them.

"A part of me wishes he would have done this when I was born, like he threatened" I breathed, feeling like everything inside of me was coming out. "But a part of me knows that If he did my mom would have hated me and blamed me my whole childhood for him leaving, like she's doing now" I said shaking my head thinking about it. Nick reached over and put his hand on my leg. 

"It's not your fault y/n. Your dad sucked. It was him, all him. Not you" Nick said making me look up at him. I swallowed and looked down wanting to believe him, and a part of me did, but a part of me will always relive those words he said to me tonight. 

"I just don't know if it would have hurt less to never had known him. To have him never know me." I sighed and looked up. "But he did know me" I said looking at Nick. He had a sad expression posted on his face. "And he still wanted to leave" I whispered. Still no tears. Still numb. 

"Y/n I don't think I could ever live without you" Nick said, I saw tears brimming his eyes. "You mean so fucking much to me" He said letting a tear fall. I smiled sadly. "Your dad is an idiot" He said shaking his head. "Such an idiot" He smiled at me. I smiled and pulled Nick into a hug and he wrapped his arms around me and we sat there for a minute, just holding each other. 

"You can stay with me, you know" He said as he laid his head against me. I stayed silent. "My mom would love to have you. We have an extra guest bedroom you can stay in, and if you don't want to be alone you can just sleep in my bed" He said soothingly. I smiled at his offer. As much as I wanted to take it and run, I knew I shouldn't. I didn't want to leave my mom alone, afraid she would hate me even more than she does right now. Plus his mom already had to deal with raising three teenage boys. She doesn't need me and my problems on top of all of that. 

"Thank you Nick, but I can't. I can't leave my mom" I whispered as Nick pulled back to look at me. He nodded. "My door is always open. You can change your mind and stay as long as you need" He smiled at me and I nodded.

"Nick" I said grabbing his attention again. He looked at me waiting for me to continue. "Can you do me a favor?" I asked quietly. He nodded not breaking eye contact. "Tomorrow" I started looking at him. "Will you just pretend that none of this happened? I don't want your pity or anyone else's." I sighed looking down. "I don't want you to treat me any differently. I don't want you to feel like you have to walk on eggshells around me" I said making him smile. 

"If you think my hair looks ratty, I want you to tell me and make a joke. If I stutter I want you to call me out like you always do" I laughed, making him laugh. "I just don't want this to change our dynamic. I don't want you to look at me like the girl who needs fixing. I've been dealing with this my whole life, nothing changed. He just left that's it" I said shaking my head. Nick placed his hand over mine. 

"If that's what you want" He stated. I nodded smiling at him. "You sure you want to go back?" He asked looking at me. I hesitated before nodding slowly. He nodded starting to stand. "I'll buy you ice cream on the way come on" He said helping me up. I smiled and took his hand. 

"Thank you, Nick" I smiled and he pulled my hand as we walked to the car. 

-

I stood in front of the door to my house. My hand shaking as it gripped the handle. God y/n stop being a baby, walk in. I swallowed before turning the handle. As I walked in I could almost see the scene that unfolded in front of me just a few hours ago. I let out a shaky breath the memories flooding into my brain creating the imagine. I swallowed, before turning and closing the door. I walked a few steps before seeing my mother sitting at the kitchen table looking down at her hands. She didn't acknowledge my presence. 

"Mom?" I asked quietly. She didn't even look up. I bit my lip looking towards the stairs. Just walk up the stairs. No. I at least had to make sure she was okay. I took a deep breath before walking up to her. I swallowed. 

"Mom?" I asked again looking down at her. She still didn't look up at me, her eyes glued to the table. I gripped my hands together, looking around. Anxiety spiking through my body. "Mom can you please talk to me?" I asked her. She had a lot to say earlier. I wasn't expecting her to be quiet. 

I looked at the empty chair next to her. I sat down slowly. "Mom I know this is hard for you, but maybe this is for the better you know?" I said my hands shaking. "Y-You know dad he was really angry and-" I started to say but was cut off. 

"Don't" She spat quickly. I looked up at her. "Your father was a good man. You will not speak down on him" She said glaring at me. I furrowed my eyebrows at her. Surely we couldn't have been speaking about the same man. Not the one from my childhood. 

I tapped my fingers on the table in front of me. "Mom I just don't want you to hate me" I mumbled quietly. Silence again. I looked up at her. "I-I did this for you. For us. I wanted better I just wanted to feel-" I attempted to explain but she stood up violently. 

"For me? You did this for me?" She said glaring down at me. "You are the most selfish kid i've ever seen in my life! You drove your dad away after 18 years of marriage for me?" She screamed at me. "18 years of hell. Hell for the both of us and you know it!" I stood up screaming back. 

"He was a drunk! He hit you! He threw shit at me! I was trying to save us! I was trying to protect myself like you never did for me!" I yelled at her. She pursed her lips as she looked at me. 

"Out" She said looking at me. "I want you out of my house" She said looking down. I felt my heart fall. As much as I wanted to accept her request and run to Nick's, she was still my family. The only family I had left. "Mom please-" I breathed. She just glared at me. 

"We only have each other. You can't do this" I shook my head. She swallowed and shook her head. "This was your fault y/n. Yours. Not mine. My whole life-" She stopped closing her eyes. "My whole life, it was you" She pointed at me. I backed up, hardening my face towards her. 

"Why do you think he started drinking in the first place" She shook her head. I bit my lip and shook my head. "This is not my fault" I said through gritted teeth. She nodded. "You know it is. You can stand there and try to convince who ever you want that this was not your fault, but it is" She shook her head at me. 

"And you know it" She said pointing in my face. I licked and lips and looked down. Pain corsating through my entire body. Still, not tears held in my eyes. I took a deep breath. "Please" I whispered. "I want you out of my house goddammit!" She screamed at me. I took a deep breath and stepped back for a second just looking at her. Wishing. Hoping. That just this once she would pick me over him. But she never had and she never would and now I knew that. 

I swallowed and nodded. Still no tears. I turned on my feet, walking up the stairs, packed my things, and didn't look back as I left the house. 

-

This was your fault y/n. Yours.

I closed my eyes before I knocked on the door quietly. It was past midnight at this point and Nick wasn't answering his phone, but this was my last hope. I didn't have anywhere else to go. I didn't have a home and it was starting to get really cold outside. The Boston cold. I hugged my arms as the breeze blew by. 

I stood there looking at my feet with a duffle bag around my shoulders. Aching from the walk over here. It wasn't a bad walk. I walked it all the time, but with an extra 50 pounds of weight it was hard. My shoulders ached. I looked up at the door again, waiting for any signs of someone answering the door. 

"Please" I whispered to myself as I saw my breath come out before me. A few seconds passed and I started to give up hope when I heard the door creek open slightly. 

I looked up and saw a pair of familiar blue eyes. Chris Sturniolo stood before me. I blinked at him. He furrowed his eyebrows when he realized it was me. He looked down at my bag, then back up at me. I just looked down at my feet and then back up at him. He was not the one I wanted to answer the door. 

"What's with the bag?" He asked opening the door all the way just looking at me, like he alwasy had. Unimpressed. Can I get a break just this once Chris? I wanted to say but instead I held my lips closed. "Can you get Nick?" I asked looking at him, as I shivered. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stood there examining me. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. I didn't like this. 

"Chris please" I said quietly, not looking at him. He looked back up at my eyes before sighing. He looked behind him and then back to me. "He's been asleep for a while, come in" He said moving out of the way so that I could step inside. I left out a breath before walking through the door. I felt Chris grab my bag and I stopped, gripping my bag. He stepped back putting his hands up. Looking at me with a shocked expression. 

"I was just getting your bag jeez" He said shaking his head and closing the door. I sighed looking down. "So jumpy" He mumbled walking past me and towards the stairs. I just watched him as he walked. He stopped and looked at me when he got to the staircase. He raised his eyebrows. 

"You comin?" He asked looking at me. I blinked before following after him up the stairs. I tried not to stare too much as he walked up the steps. As painful as it was to be around Chris, he was deathly attractive. Which only made me hate him more. Kinda. I blinked and looked down at my feet before reaching the top of the steps. 

"Guest bedrooms on the right next to the bathroom. You know where that is" He said sliding his hands into his pockets. I looked to where he was talking about and nodded. "Do you want me to wake Nick?" He asked looking at me. I shook my head. Nick had done enough for me tonight there was nothing ergrent going on. Mom just kicked me out, i'll still be kicked out tomorrow. There's no need to bother him while he was sleeping. 

I shook my head. "No it's okay, I'll just talk to him tomorrow." I fake smiled. He just blinked at me. I started to turn to walk away but Chris grabbed my arm. I felt electricity run up to my shoulder. I turned around quickly putting my hand over where he had touched me. He slightly leaned back from my reaction. 

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly as if anyone heard him ask that the world might explode. I just looked at him for a second. Soaking in the almost concern in his face I'd never seen before. "Yeah." I nodded.  Yeah I'm fine Chris" I whispered back. He nodded looking down at his feet. 

"Get some sleep" He said before turning and walking back down the steps. I let out a breath before walking into the guest bedroom and setting my bag down. I sighed running my hands through my hair. Long day. Very long day. 

I threw my hair up into a pony tail and crawled into the bed. I let out a breath. I heard a small knock at the door before I heard it start to creek open. Matt poked his head through the door and smiled before walking in. I smiled softly at him. 

"Hey y/n/n" He said quietly. He looked down at his hands holding waters. "I brought you a water in case you get thirsty." He smiled walking over to the bed and handing me the waters. I took them and placed them on the table beside my bed. 

"Thanks Matt" I sighed. He smiled down at me and started to turn before stopping. He looked down at me sadly. I wanted to throw up. "Chris told me you were here. That you were upset. I just- Are you okay?" He asked quietly. I looked up at the ceiling. 

"Matt I'm okay I just don't want to be pitied. I'm still me" I said glancing over at him. He nodded and looked down. "There's some clothes in the bottom drawer if you want to change. They are old. They don't fit us anymore, but they will fit you" He smiled slightly. I nodded. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped before turning and exiting, leaving me alone. I stood up off my bed before going towards the drawer and shifting through the clothes. 

I smiled at them. I picked up one shirt that was blue and read "Highlanders" which was the mascot of our high school. I brought it up to my nose and old cologne filled my nose. I smiled before ripping off my shirt and pulling it over me. I walked over and pulled myself back into my bed.I sighed and turned over, hugging my pillow. 

I tried to close my eyes, but I couldn't. It was like a magnet that kept springing open. I tossed and turned before looking up at the ceiling, sighing letting my thoughts wonder around.

How could Chris even tell I was upset? I didn't even say anything. I shook my head at my thoughts. The last thing I need right now is for my mind to try to figure out the complex man who is Christopher Sturniolo. 

I closed my eyes but it was hours before I finally drifted off to sleep. 

-

I walked down the steps, I heard the talking in the kitchen come to a holt. I glanced over the staircase and saw all of the faces looking back at me. Mary Lou smiled at me softly before walking up to me and hugging me. 

"You can stay here as long as you need sweetheart. You're a part of the family" She said quietly as she hugged me. Over her shoulder I met the eyes of Nick, Matt, and Chris. I looked away when she pulled back. I smiled at her. 

"Thank you" I whispered. She nodded before walking back towards the kitchen. I looked at Nick who gave me a soft smile. I smiled back and sat next to him. I put my hands on my face and rubbed my eyes. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. Nick reached over and rubbed my arm. 

"Your hair looks like shit" He smiled over at me. I couldn't help but let out a small laugh, making Nick smile. "Nick" Matt scolded him. I shook Matt off quickly. "No...he's okay" I smiled looking up at Nick. "Thank you" I said quietly. In moments like these I don't know what I would do without him. He smiled and looked down.

"So we all get the pass to insult you right now?" Chris asked from across from me. I glared at him. Always butting heads like I said before. When Chris asked me if I was okay last night, that was the first time he was semi-nice to me. It honestly weirded me out a bit. Chris held eye contact for a second before he broke it and looked down. I smiled down to myself. I won. 

"Because you look tired as shit" Chris said shoving his spoon full of cereal into his mouth and chewing obnoxiously. Mary Lou set down a plate of eggs next to him, hitting him on the back of his head. Chris whined and put his hand on the back of his head, looking up at her. I laughed before covering my mouth. 

"Language Christopher. That is no way to speak to a guest" She said looking down at him and then making eye contact with me and winking at me. "Nick said it first!" He said motioning to Nick. Nick and I giggled. I smiled at her. Sometimes she felt like a second mom to me. Actually more like my only mom. I admired her more than I admired myself. 

Chris looked up glaring at me. I rolled my eyes. "You should try to eat something" Matt said beside Chris looking at me. I looked down at the food on the table. "I'll make you anything you want honey" Mary Lou said from the stove turning around to look at me. 

The thought of food entering my body right now made me sick to my stomach. That's all it did recently and it showed. My legs were skinner, my face was too. I swallowed. I should eat. I know I should. It's not like I don't want to, just recently I can't. When I do, I puke it all up and if there is anything I hate more than feeling sick, It's throwing up. I talked to Nick about it and he told me that it might be trauma response. The lack of eating. I blinked down at the table. 

"I don't really want to eat right now" I said quietly. Chris glanced up at me for a second before going back to his phone. Nick leaned slightly towards me. "Eat something y/n/n" He said softly. I just looked at him and then Matt, who was looking at me like I was an injured puppy. 

Nick placed piece of bacon on the plate in front of me and Matt stood up taking a muffin off the counter and handing it to me. I looked between them both. "Just a little bit. It might make you feel better" Matt suggested across from me. This is exactly what I didn't want. To be babied. I could talk Nick off of it, but Matt was different. He didn't know me as well as Nick did, so he didn't believe me when I said I seriously did not want to be treated differently.

I looked up at Matt. He was staring at me waiting for me to eat the fucking muffin. I sighed before picking up. Maybe If I ate a little bit he would stop staring at me like that. I looked down at it before biting into it and chewing looking at Matt. He smiled and looked down, almost pleased with himself. I leaned back sighing.

After breakfast Nick when into his room to shower and before he told me he had a whole day planned of fun. I rolled my eyes as he smiled and jumped into his room. As I turned I felt it. I paused before walking quickly to my room. I walked in and ran into the bathroom, closing the door and leaning over the toilet, emptying my stomach. 

I held my hair back as I puked. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to control my breath. I leaned back and sighed. Then It came again and held the toilet. I groaned and fell back against the fall. I heard a small knock on the door. 

"Y/n?" 

I looked towards the door and rubbed my eyes. I couldn't really tell the difference between their voices sometimes, but I knew who was on the other side of the door. "Hold on a sec" I said as I stood up, flushing the toilet. I leaned over towards the mirror and filled my mouth with water and spitting it out and then splashing some on my face. He knocked again. 

"Matt-" I said as I opened the door but was met with the other brother not Matt. Chris hovered above me, looking down at me. He raised his eyebrows. "Still don't got the voices down yet huh?" He asked smiling. I closed my eyes sighing. "You all sound the exact same" I said shaking my head. He looked behind me and then back at me. 

"Are you okay?" He said looking at me like I was crazy. I turned around and then looked back at him. "Yeah, I'm-fine. Please stop asking me that. What do you want?" I said looking at him. He glanced behind me again and then looked at me. "Were you just throwing up?" He asked scrunching his nose. I closed my eyes and hung my head. 

"What do you want Chris?" I asked again, not answering his question. He just blinked at me, before sighing and looking down at his hands that were holding three water bottles. "Matt told me to bring these up to you" He said looking from the waters to me. I sighed looking at the waters. "But it looks like you already have enough" He said turning and looking at the four bottles of water already on my nightstand, unopened. 

He had handed me two last night and when I woke up there were two more. I looked over to the other bottles. I groaned running my hands through my hair. I looked down at the ones in his hand before taking one out of his hand and walking over to the other ones placing it down. 

"Can you please tell Matt to stop babying me? I don't want to be treated like I'm a baby who needs taking care of" I said glaring at Chris. He held his hands up. "Don't shoot the messenger" He smiled. I rolled my eyes. "He's just worried about your hydration" He chucked. I glared at him and looked down at the waters, tracing the top of one with one of my fingers. Chris looked down at me and sighed. 

"Matt's just like that, you know that" Chris said defending him. I licked my lips and nodded. "I know, I just wish.....he wasn't. I don't know." I said shaking my head. Chris just stood next to me. "Maybe you should drink one. Maybe you threw up because you're dehydrated" He shrugged. I scoffed and shook my head. 

He leaned over placing the other waters next to the others. "He's just trying to be there for you, because you know...your parents weren't" Chris said making me look up at him. "You don't know anything about my home life" I said crossing my arms. He raised his eyebrows and looked down at me. 

"I know enough. I know it was bad enough that you showed up at out doorstep at 1am last night with a bag full of your stuff" He said glancing to the bag. I looked to the bag and then to him. I looked down at my feet. 

"You're closed off and I get it." He explained. "No you don't" I shook my head. "You don't get it Chris" I said. "You don't get anything" I spat. "You don't get it because you have a mother who cooks you breakfast every morning and brothers you can talk to about anything" I said shaking my head. 

"You don't have to worry about food on the table or if your dad is coming home that night" I said looking at him. "You never have to question your parents love or if you need to lock your door at night in case one of them gets angry" I said stepping towards him. "You never have to worry about if there's going to be presents under the tree Christmas morning and your heart doesn't drop when you see an empty bottle of vodka on the counter when you come home from school" I said as he stood over me. 

"You hear your mother tell you she loves you every morning before handing you your lunch for that day" I shook my head. "So no Chris, you don't get it" I said narrowing my eyes. "So I appreciate you not treating me any differently, I do. Matt doesn't get that and you do, but don't sit here and try and tell me you understand when you don't." I finished looking up at him. His face didn't change as I yelled at him. 

I shook my head and I moved past him but I felt his tug on the bottom of my shirt. "It's kind of funny, you yelling at me while wearing my shirt" He said glancing down at the shirt and then back up to my eyes. My face faded as I looked down at the shirt and then back up at him. "Your shirt?" I asked. He smiled and raised his eyebrows. I just blinked at him. 

"You ready ?" Nick yelled as he walked through my door. Chris dropped the grip on the shirt and stepped back from me. I looked from Chris to Nick. Nick furrowed his eyebrows and looked at him. "What are you doing?" Nick asked him. Chris looked at the waters and pointed at them.

"I was bringing waters" He said putting his hands in his pockets. Nick looked at the waters and then into the hallway. "Tell Matt to stop being obsessed with hydration" Nick sighed walking in. Chris shurgged. "He thinks it heals everything thats not my fault" He chucked. Nick shook his head and looked at me.

"I want to go shopping" Nick clapped looking at me. I laughed and looked at him. Nick glanced to Chris who was still standing there. "You can go" He waved at him. Chris rolled his eyes and left the room

-

It's been two weeks since I moved into the Sturniolo's house. I'm feeling better. Nick's making it better. I sleep in his room ever other night and we laugh, watch movies, sing, dance. We do everything best friends do. It's amazing. I've gotten closer to Matt too. He's back off a bit so that's good. Chris was still harder to break through with. He'll hang out with us, but he mostly ignores me or if he does acknowdge me, he's making fun of me. Which I don't mind. It is what it is, but I still wish he would try like I do. 

Now I was standing outside of the bathroom door banging on it. Chris knew I needed to shower and he's been in there for 30 minutes. He was doing it to enrage me. I knew he was. He ran into the bathroom as I walked to it with a towel in my hands. I knocked on the door again. 

"Chris come on!" I yelled. I groaned and leaned against the wall as I heard the shower turn off. I sighed of relief. "Thank God" I mumbled to myself. A few seconds later the door was opening. the Lord could have never prepared me for what I saw when the door opened. 

"Could you have-" I froze.

Chris stared back at me. His hair still dripping wet against his forehead. His towel hanging low on his waist and the fresh shave cleanly shown on his face. His eyes seem to have gotten bluer in the shower if that was even possible. Steam from the shower poured out into the hallway illuminating him like an angel walking out of heaven. 

My voice froze. My body froze. My eyes scanned his body without permission from my brain as I glanced down to his toned stomach and the dangerously low towel that was leaving little to my imagination. Chris smirked up at me like he always did. I swallowed as my eyes met back to his. 

"Cat got your tongue?" He asked leaning against the door frame. My cheeks caught on fire as I blinked at him. I cleared my throat. "No I just-" I said stumbling over my words. He laughed and shook his head as he turned and walked down the hall. I swallowed and pressed my hand against my face, I was burning up. 

"Fuck" I whispered to myself. I turned and watched him as he walked and he briefly turned and met my eyes with the same smirk before opening his bedroom and walking in. I shook my head and walked into the bathroom and closed the door fast. As If I could erase the embarssment that had just happened outside if I closed the door fast enough. I closed my eyes and shook my head.

Y/n what are you doing? Looking at Chris like that? I opened my eyes and turned towards the sink seeing residue of a razor sitting on the counter along with cologne and necklaces that he had discarded when taking a shower. 

"Fuck" I whispered again. It's just physical attraction. It's human nature. It's not that big of a deal. I thought to myself as I stood there pressed against the door. God that was horrifying. I shook my head as I reached in the shower before turning it on. A few minutes later I held my hand under it to feel a stream of cold water. My face hardened. Chris. I hated him again, never mind. 

About an hour later I sat in Matt's room along with Nick. Matt was playing his video games while Nick and I sat and watched him, not really understanding what was going on. Matt removed one of muffs over his ear and turned to us. 

"Can you go grab Chris? He was suppose to join the game an hour ago. I don't know what's taking him so long" Matt groaned. Nick looked over at me. "Can you? I'm comfy" He said as he wiggled in his blanket. I swallowed. "Uh, can't you?" I asked looking at him. I really didn't want to face him after what happened an hour ago. I just don't want him to tease me about it. After spending an entire cold shower thinking about it. It was just physical attraction. Nothing more. It's human nature. He's attractive under the normal girl-standard. That's it.

"Pleasseee" Nick whined. I looked down at him before groaning and standing up off the bed and walking out of Matt's room. My breath was unsteady as I walked down the hall towards Chris's room. Why was I acting like this? Why was I nervous? This was ridiculouis. I shook my head and my thoughts as I stood in front of his door. 

I knocked lightly. 

"Come in" I heard from the other side. I grabbed the handle opening the door slowly. Chris was pulling on a T-Shirt with his back towards me. I looked up. You've got to be kidding me. I looked back down at him as he turned around. 

"Oh. Hey" He said looking at me. I didn't say anything. "I was wondering why someone was knocking and not just barging in" He smiled pushing his now dry hair back with his hand. I just blinked at him. He moved back over to his bed, picking up a sweatshirt and starting to put in on. 

"Did you need something?" He asked smiling due to my silence. I took a breath in. "Yeah-right. Matt said that you were suppose to get on the game or something?" I said looking back and then towards him. He pulled the sweatshirt on and nodded. "Yeah I know, I'm about to get on" He said picking up his phone. I pursed my lips and nodded. Chris looked up at me and then to the side then back to me. 

"Did you need anything else?" He asked raising his eyebrows. I blinked. "No! I just-" I looked down then back up at him. He just looked at me. My cheeks flared up again. God, I hate my body. He smiled and started to walk towards me. I stood frozen, like my feet were incapable of moving. I swallowed as he got closer and looked down at me. He stood so close he hovered over me just looking down at me. I just stared back at him. The air was still and it was silent between us. He narrowed his eyes down at me. 

"How was your shower?" He whispered. I just blinked up at him. He was too close and too quiet to ask me that. "Cold" I whispered back breathless. He pursed his lips hiding a smile. His eyes glanced over my face. 

"I think you've got a staring problem" He said hovering over me. I pursed my lips. "I think you've got an attitude problem" I breathed back. He smiled. "Maybe I do" He whispered back. I just blinked up at him, my heart beating out of my chest. His eyes trailed down my face and to my lips before looking back up in my eyes. 

He stepped back before turning and grabbing his phone. I let go of a breath before turning and walking out of his room and closing the door, quickly retreating back to Matt's room. I opened the door and saw Nick scrolling through his phone and Matt studying the game in front of him. 

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT!!!

I’ll take the feedback loves❤️

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