#and it’s harder to find a space that will have you in that kind of environment imo

[thewritetofreespeech]

Gale x Tav

words: 1992

rating: E

pairing: Gale x Tav (post game pairing)

summary: since you all are so thirsty for an extended verison of the NSFW headcanons post, I guess I had to make one. I am nothing if not a servant to my people.

tags: magic sex (literally. but also metaphorically), exhibitionism, voyeurism, masturbation (kind of), Gale using magic for naughty reasons, projection!Gale

“Alright class! Please turn your alchemy text to Chapter 8, page 394.”

There was a loud, unanimous sound of rustling paper as all the students in the lecture hall flipped through their books to the requested text. You don’t know what Gale was always complaining about. This teaching thing wasn’t that hard.

Gale had to leave for a community conference of the Blackwater staff and some of the other schools of magical arts in Faerûn. Given that they were all wizards, you had asked why they all couldn’t just project their consciousness into one place and avoid the travel, but Gale didn’t have an answer for that and left earlier that week. In his absence, he had asked you to take over his Introductory to Magics class while he was gone. Given that it was an introductory course, which mostly meant learning the basics and text anyway, and you’d had ‘private tutoring’ from Mystra’s former Chosen himself, he insisted you were more than qualified to act in his stead.

It had actually been pretty fun. The young weave masters were all eager to learn. Honestly the hardest thing was keeping them on task with the subjects instead of running off with a lot of questions about your victory over the Elder Brain and recuse of the realm. It was flattering, but not apart of the testing materials.

The students all wait patiently with their books open for you to begin, and you turn around to the blackboard. All of a sudden you felt a twinge between your legs. Not a painful one but more….

“Professor [Y/N], are you alright?”

You turn to look over your shoulder at the class, clearly spaced out for a moment, before you smile and tell them, “oh yes. Sorry. Let’s talk about alchemy then.”

You begin to write and talk to the class when you feel the sensation again. It was faint, but distinct. At first you thought it was just the seam of your trousers rubbing against your apex. But it was too consistent for that. The sensation would come. Then the sensation would go. You tried to keep your mind on the lesson but the more it came & went you had to wonder what was going on.

It couldn’t be Haarlep. Despite your adventure being over, your contract with the sex demon wasn’t. He still used your form from time to time, though your popularity in Avernous seemed to be waning as he hadn’t called on it in some time. If it were him the sensation would be constant, before fading away like a breathless sigh off your lips. So it was something else.

By the time you get through explaining the 4 key groups of alchemy, and made it to page 396, the sensation had crawled up from your core and just to the pit of your belly. You were having a harder time focusing on the lesson. Your attention now spilt between 50% focused on what was happening to your body, a mere 10% on the lecture, and the rest on the stimulating sensation between your legs that was just too pleasurable to resist.

To save face, and avoid any embarrassment like moaning out loud in from of a class full of minors, you quickly pivot the class schedule into independent study. Telling the students to go out around campus and find 5, no 15 herbs, floral, whatever to craft with for tomorrow morning’s follow up lecture on application.

Some of the students seem confused. While other just look excited to have the afternoon off for ‘foraging’. Still, the all leave rate orderly while you wave them off, and just as the door closed behind the last one you let out a deep breath you didn’t really you were holding and brace your hands against the desk.

Your body felt like it was on fire. Teased, tormented, toyed with. Your hands still splayed on the desk, you spread your legs and let out a moan. Conventionally thinking would lead on to believe that rubbing your thighs together would make the sensation stronger, yet somehow spreading them apart made more room for…whatever this was to work. Your clit throbbed at the feeling of something rubbing against it. If they weren’t in front of you, you would have sworn it was your own hand touching you, the sensation was so similar. Your fingertips twitch at the thought. Prepared to slide down the front of your pants to finish you off.

“Hello there!”

You jump with a start. Eyes wide in alarm at the sound of a voice. The immediate thought coming to mind that another professor has come to ask why the entire Introductory to Magics class is out picking herbs & flowers instead of being in a classroom and caught you on the cusp of a very public private moment. Thankfully, it wasn’t. Only Gale’s Mirror Image projection standing there looking cheerfully at you. “Gale? What are you doing here?”

“I assume you mean what is Gale doing sending me here.” The clever non-corporeal remarked. “Gale has sent me here to see how his new technique is working out. And, judging by your flushed cheeks and wanton appearance, I would say it’s going splendidly!”

Your brain struggled to gather all the bits of information the projection was dealing out through your fog. But you gather enough to finally understand what’s going on. “Gale did this to me!”

“Doing. He is doing this to you ma’m.” As if to prove a point of the explanation, there was another, firmer press of rubbing against your clit. One that made you moan again and knees nearly buckle. “Gale has informed me, to tell you, that he enchanted one of the stones on his ring to be linked with your…well…your own stone. He also wants me to tell you it’s the ruby one. On the silver band.”

The one you bought him. “Can I ask…mmm…why he did this?”

“You can ask! He says it was to give you pleasure while he was away. Long distance relationship can be tricky.” It had been less than a week. “He thought this would be a good resolution in the intermedium. And, perhaps other times in the future.”

You’re not sure if you should feel violated by Gale’s magical molestations or marvel at his creativity. It didn’t really matter in the end because all you could think about was the nagging need to cum. And one other nagging thing – “and you couldn’t possibly wait until I was home to try out this new technique? I’m in the middle of teaching your class. I’m still at the academy! What if someone comes in here right now??”

“Oh. Not to worry. Gale has informed me that the door is magically locked until 2:30 this afternoon. Something about office hours? No one can enter until after that time. Does that help answer your question?”

You let out another long, heavy sigh. One of abject relief and feeling your legs give way as you fall back into Gale’s chair. All the energy sapped from your body as you gave way to the pleasure that had been bubbly up. No longer holding it back, but instead letting it wash over you.

“Gale says he’s happy you like your present.”

You open your eyes. Seeing the projection staring at you with a blank, but soothing expression. Those unending eyes seeming to look right through you. Or perhaps, more to the point, stare past itself and straight to Gale. It was kind of hot. The coolness of its gaze. “My present, eh?”

The projection nodded. “Yes. He says he did this for you.”

“Just for me?” You unbutton your blouse. It had been feeling terrible constricting for quite some time now anyway. The projection doesn’t say anything. Nor does its expression change more than the slight tilt of it’s head, as the fabric gave way to relieve more skin and the outline of your breast in their bra.

“He says yes. But the pockets of his mind I can access independently lead me to believe it’s not purely altruistic.”

You giggle at the projection’s honesty, before your laughter turned into moans. The feeling on your clit more intense. As if Gale was trying to change the conversation.

“Fuck…Gale….” Your back arched off the back of the chair for a moment before it came back down again. “I can’t take it anymore. Are you as anatomically correct as before?”

“Hmm…I believe so.” The projection looked down at itself. Seeming to ponder the concept, as well as all its parts. “But Gale has instructed me that he’s not interested in me using that ability with you. The time in Shar’s Caress was due to the other guests in attendance. With you, Gale wants you all to himself.”

There was an odd feeling of arousal at Gale’s possessiveness, even against himself in a way, but also disappointment. You were close. But the sensation from Gale’s ring to your core wasn’t enough. You needed more.

Just as you were again about to shove your own hand down your pants, you feel a new sensation of hands on you. Not just one hand, or two, but multiple hands. Mage hands. They play with your breasts, your nipples, your ears, your hair. You lean back in Gale’s chair with your eyes closed. Moaning and panting with a white-knuckle grip on the arm rests as the invisible hands play with your body. One finally gives you what you want. Phantom appendage digits thrusting into your inner core, wet and hot.

Your hips jerk up as you let out a wordless scream before the fall back down and you let it fuck you. Legs wide. Blouse open. Mouth agape as Gale abuses his power to abuse your body in the most pleasurable way possible. You’re about to cum probably harder than you’ve ever cum in your life and your pants were still on. How insane was that?

You open your eyes, half lidded and only for a moment, to see the projection still staring at you as you fall apart. Then, you finally do. You cum hard. Bowing back off the chair so hard you hear it creak, before you fall back limp against the soft leather.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

You look up at the projection again. Trying to catch your breath and right your world again. “Yes.”

“Good. Gale is glad you did. He also says that it’s made up for a rather dull afternoon of meetings.” A shiver ran up your spine at the thought that Gale had done all of this during a meeting. “The time is now 2:00. If you would like to freshen up, I suggest you make haste before 2:30 when the doors reopen. Gale says that enjoys how you look right now, but it is probably not appropriate for academia.”

“Then maybe don’t do this at ‘academia’ locations.” You quip back as you smooth out your hair.

“Fair.” The projection agrees. “Gale would like to know if you would like to do this again then when you are not in academia. Perhaps tonight? At home?”

You bite your lip at the thought of it. Doing this all over again, only this time naked in your bed. Perhaps even able to participate more now that you knew what was going on. “Absolutely.”

“Splendid!” The projection offers you a smile before it fades. Disappearing with a last, “see you tonight” as it reabsorbed back into the weave.

Alone again, you stand on shaky legs and try to right yourself for the next class. You still had two more classes to teach before you could go home that evening and become Gale’s play thing again.

The thought made it completely impossible to be totally focused on your lesson plan. You may have told some impressionable young wizards that Fly and Feather Fall were absolutely the same spell. Oh well. Mistakes happen.

#;pen & paper (fanfiction) #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #gale x tav #gale x reader #gale dekarios x reader #gale of waterdeep x reader #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #bg3 scenarios #bg3 imagine #imagine #scenarios #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate scenarios #baldur's gate imagine #baldurs gate imagine #baldurs gate scenarios #epilogue gale #tav #bg3 tara #tara #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 smut #baldur's gate smut

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Word count: 2000+

Warnings: none

Part XXI | Part XXIII

It took a whole week until Tamlin regained his strength and was able to take a longer walk. He also gained some of the weight back and generally looked better now. However that was the only thing that changed. He still couldn't speak nor change back, his powers stayed locked as well.

You and Lucien stayed in the manor, taking care of him. Lucien was attentive and very helpful. Unfortunately, his relationship with Tamlin hadn't improved much. He growled at Lucien whenever he came closer or tried to talk with him, so Lucien mostly just kept an eye on you while keeping you company or went out to get you some vegetables and meat.

The closest they came to each other was at night as the three of you still slept together on connected mattresses. Even though Lucien tried to keep proper distance, as soon as he fell asleep he rolled over, his hand finding it's way to your waist he held you and warmed you up until the morning. It didn't take long and you got used to be surrounded or rather pressed in between these two.

As Tamlin got stronger and stronger, you could finally leave manor and take a walk in the gardens together, every day getting farther and farther, but never too far from the estate. You fell back into your routine of picking up herbs, berries and anything you could find on your outings.

Tamlin never said no to your tea, so you looked for as many medicals herbs that could help him, as possible. However, your options were quite limited and you had to settle for the little that you could find.

Even Lucien grew fond of the tea, often asking you for a cup. He liked to joke that you certainly enchanted it because no other tea could possibly compare with the taste of yours.

Rhysand came every day for a visit as he promised or sent you tons of messages at days he couldn't come. Tamlin grew restless every time he appeared, growling, but he gave you a space or disappeared somewhere together with Lucien, fuming and huffing even hours after Rhysand left. It was kind of cute.

Your days were peaceful and uneventful. Your old self would be grateful for that, but your new self would welcome any distraction that could keep your thoughts away.

When you came here, you tried to be cheerful and talkative with Tamlin. This side of you began to fade away with every day you spent in the destroyed manor. Tamlin couldn't speak and you didn't want to pull him down with your problems, anyway. He had enough of his own as you believed.

You tried so hard not to think about the past and memories that made you tremble and stole the air from your lungs. You were hiding it, but with every day it became harder. You lied to yourself and to Rhys, too, when you pretended to be okay, that you got over the past events. You knew your brother wouldn't have said no, if you wanted to talk about the things. Yet you didn't want to make him worried more than he already was. It was hard enough to get him agree with your stay here. If he knew, he would insist that you went back with him immediately.

You considered to talk even with Lucien who seemed to notice the change, but he didn't bring it out. Instead, he watched you with concern or brought some little thing only for you to cheer you up. He was kind and protective, and even though you got well with him, you didn't know him enough well to share your most vulnerable feelings.

And so you spent a lot of time pushing yourself into one-sided chitchat with Tamlin about such insignificant things as weather or butterflies in the garden, just to avoid the darkness of your mind.

One day you were standing by the window on the third floor of the mansion, looking out at the forest in the distance. Tamlin for a moment disappeared. When he returned, he halted few steps from you, watching you with narrowed eyes. Then he came closer, nuzzling to your hand. You thought he wanted just an attention, so smiling you turned to him, running your fingers through soft fur between the antlers.

He closed his eyes in pleasure, but soon he shook your hand off. He lay down on the floor, pointing snout to his back and grunting.

"Oh, you want me to scratch your back?"

He made a disagreeing noise, followed by another couple of sounds. Even though he couldn't speak he was still trying. He pointed to his back again.

Frowning you blinked in confusion. "You want me to straddle you?"

He huffed in agreement.

"No, I'm heavy. You are still weak. I can't," you blushed fiercely. Treating him like a pet was already bad enough, but use him as a horse? You definitely couldn't do that to him.

"Let's have some tea," you changed topic, heading for door. Tamlin got before you, blocking the door with his huge body. Offering you his back, he barked, growled and whimpered until you sighed. "You won't give that idea up until I agree, will you."

Corners of his mouth curled into wolfish grin, emerald eyes shone brightly. You sighed again heavily. Reluctantly you climbed on him careful not to hurt him or pull on the fur too much. As soon as you were seated, he slowly stood up and testing if you could hold onto him, he made few steps. He had to assume you would be fine because he subsequently took off, running through the mansion and the gardens and out to the meadows in full speed.

You clung to his strong back, holding onto him with all your strength, eyes shut, face hidden in the fur. His moves were so smooth you hardly felt any impact even of the jumps. However, this was different from riding a horse or flying and you had to admit you were scared.

After a moment or two you dared to crack one eye open just as you entered the forest. Trees turned into blurred colours of brown and green around you, Tamlin's pace too fast even for your fae eyes. You felt nauseous, so you again hid into his fur.

It took maybe five minutes and the beast finally slowed down. He made a noise as if telling you to take a look. You peeked out, but when you saw where he brought you, you sat up straight, looking around in awe.

Tamlin brought you to your cottage.

Your eyes pickled with tears and you slid down from his back. Your legs moved on their own bringing you to the doorstep. Fingertips slowly ran over the sturdy wood down to the handle. You were half afraid what you would find inside, but you opened the door nonetheless, yearning to enter to so well known room.

You expected to see a lot of debris, dust and mess. Instead, you found perfectly clean room. It looked as if you'd never left it.

Solstice decorations were gone, furniture that was destroyed when Rhys fought with Tamlin, was back on its place without a single scratch. Your heart swelled with love. Tamlin did this. He repaired your cottage and kept it clean while you were in Velaris.

You pivoted, tears rolling down your cheeks. Your friend stood on threshold peeking in shyly. You squeezed him in embrace so firm that the poor thing couldn't breathe. He tensed at first, then slowly melted into your touch. He made a strangled sound, teasing you.

"I'm sorry," you sobbed loosening the grip a little, still holding him firmly. He made chuckling sound, one of his huge paws wrapped around your waist, holding you lovingly.

This was what you needed, this was what you missed so much. It didn't make your dark thoughts disappear, but you felt way better here. And he knew it. Tamlin understood your heart and was willing to give you whatever you needed to feel better. There weren't words that could express your gratitude.

After a moment you moved to your armchair and Tamlin followed you. At first he laid his head in your lap, but he seemed to be unsatisfied with the position. Sitting on the floor next to your legs, he wrapped both of his front legs around you, resting his head on your shoulder. He let out a contented exhale and stayed still, his muscles loosening. He was quite heavy, but you didn't mind it. You were happy.

"Y-Y/N," Tamlin rasped, his voice raw from not speaking for a long time.

You blinked in surprise, not sure if you really heard him speak or it just seemed to you. "Did you just..?"

"Y/N," he rasped more clearly this time.

"Tamlin, you can speak," you gasped, running your hands up and down his back as new tears filled your eyes. He made some incoherent noises. "It's okay. Take your time. No need to hurry."

The knock sounded on the front door. You were so happy being back home that you completely forgot about Lucien who went on hunt. You stood up to answer the door, finding the mentioned redhead standing on your doorstep, hands crossed on his chest, eyes narrowed in irritation. His brows shot up when he saw your state.

"Do you know how worried I was when I returned and you two were nowhere to be found? You could have at least left me a note."

Tamlin growled behind you.

"I'm sorry," you couldn't suppress wide smile.

"Right, you seem to be so sorry about that," Lucien grumbled, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"The thing is I didn't know about this. Tamlin decided to bring me here."

"Did he?" Lucien frowned at the beast behind you.

"Yes," Tamlin rasped.

Lucien blinked, his mouth opening and shutting closed again. He pointed at Tamlin. "Did he just answer? Or do I just imagine that?"

You smiled even wider. Tamlin sighed and returned back to the room, lying down in front of fireplace. Lucien gaped after him.

"He's slowly improving," you said. "He spoke for the first time just before you came."

"Oh."

"Do you want to come in?" He winced at your sudden offer.

"Oh uhm. I'm not sure.."

"It's fine." You opened the door wider, stepping aside to let him come in. You pointed him to the chair.

You turned to the kitchen, grabbing a kettle to boil water. Just when you took out mugs, you realised you didn't have herbs nor any food in here. You paused for a single heartbeat. You could feel both Lucien's and Tamlin's eyes on your back, watching you amused.

You took a deep breath and flicked your wrist. Herbs from manor appeared on counter.

Tamlin stood up, coming closer. "How-?"

"A lot happened while I was away," you said with sad smile.

"Rhysand helped her to cure the memory loss," Lucien explained for you.

Hair on the beast's back stood on end. That was the only visible reaction of his. However, his bright emerald eyes clouded, undoubtedly with dark thoughts. You reached out, giving him a gentle pat on head.

"Thank you," you whispered to his ear as you leaned closer to kiss the crown of his head. His eyes snapped up, meeting yours. They shone with what you hoped was an understanding.

You brewed a tea for everyone. Lucien brought in some wood and lit up the fire in fireplace. He also winnowed to the manor and brought food from there because Tamlin didn't seem to want to return back. After that he helped you to prepare supper.

The day turned into a peaceful evening. Lucien who obliviously felt more comfortable here than in the manor, even came up with some funny stories of him and Spring Court's High Lord. Mentioned High Lord ignored him mostly, occasionally grumbling or even chuckling. You couldn't stop laughing.

When time to go to sleep came, Lucien bid you a farewell. For the night he had to return to the manor. There was no other room or bed except yours in the cottage. Tamlin, of course, didn't move, already peacefully sleeping in front of the fireplace on thick rug, where he used to sleep before. And so you turned off the lights and went to your room. It was the first time you slept alone since coming back.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot @acourtofimagines

#english isnt my first language #tamlin acotar #tamlin #tamlin x reader #tamlin fanfiction #pro tamlin #lucien vanserra #acotar x you #acotar #sarah j maas

[petrichorvoices]

we finally caught up on WTNV

#this is the first and only time we've ever been caught up on it. we've been listening since 2019 or so #most of how we caught up starting from 203 was by reading the transcripts and listening to portions of audio #we weren't able to handle doing the full audio episodes #it's. uh. i need some time to think about things. since we've started engaging more in fandom spaces #even if all we're doing is reblogging fanart and all that #i've been having a harder time openly being a fictive. and i always feel strange talking to singlets that are fans of my source #i feel scared that my presence is going to make them uncomfortable to engage in media. that i'm doing something wrong by existing nearby #i don't want to deprive anyone of anything they enjoy. i don't want people to feel awkward talking to me because. well. #i'm blorbo from their podcasts or whatever. i want to be recognized as a person. just a person who happens to also be a fictional character #i feel bad reblogging things from people who are into my source and tagging it as Cecil's tag even if its unrelated to WTNV #because i don't want them to feel like i'm imposing myself and my strangeness on them. and i don't want to give them the same media issues #that we deal with. a lot of our media issues comes from psychosis yes but a part of it is also from being fictives and knowing about them #like i know so fully well that i'm extremely weird and not in the good way. that most people don't and won't believe me about myself #and i don't want to weird them out. i'm terrified TERRIFIED of accidentally letting a WTNV fanartist find out that i'm Cecil and #getting blocked for being some crazy weirdo or whatever. i just. it's a big worry i guess is what there is to say #i want to talk to people and i want to be myself but i think on some level i wish that my self was something else #like. i don't want people to feel like they can't treat fiction as fiction just because i exist #i don't want them to shy away from discussing character's traumas or putting them in weird AUs or whatever #do whatever the hell you want with it my presence shouldn't scare you off from it #i'm kind of repeating myself at this point so i'm gonna stop so. yeah #if you read this full thing we'd appreciate a like on this if that's okay just for paranoia reasons #rambling #Cecil's tag

[rubysparx]

I see my irls with like chill alterhuman spaces online like how’d you do that. Dawg everytime I think I found a chill space turns out they have a specific rule that excludes a part of me or what I believe in. And that’s a general statement not a vague thing abt something specific. No I mean what I say it kinda sucks man what da heck. Like if I was as open and like.. unabashed like my Real Life friends r abt it I think I’d get killt. I feel like I need to be a graduated scholar + historian + archivist before I can say anything abt my experience as alterhuman or even like share that part of my… me!! And even if I were all that I still wouldn’t say shit because I’m so mortified of like having that tie to me. Like yea my words now officially have weight in my mind, on the idea that I’d be extremely knowledgeable- but you’re not allowed to know who said those words. Quote me like an uncredited poem screenshot you see in every post about blorbo bleebus

#I do think there is a hostility #one which I have actually run into #but I’m also well aware this is just another example of my #assumption (defense mechanism?) that I have to serious factual and to-the-point to say something about important things #when I’m the contrary the most important things are often matters of emotion #to which of course I SHOULD be personal and open and a bleeding wound to shoot into about it #ok? whatever. walks away #whatever. I will continue to not say anything abt it but like #I need to remind myself every once in a while I can literally do whatever the fuck I want . #I see these sick blogs my buddy’s have that looks so fun gotta admit I’m a lil jealous #totally bogus brother </3 #I’m better at like. being active on disc servers tho #and it’s harder to find a space that will have you in that kind of environment imo #because it’s not just your space you can’t just kick people out yk #it’s like a park rather than a bedroom. idk I’m visual and metaphorical #ok whatever walks away for real this time

[ketchuppee]

During the 2008 recession, my aunt lost her job. Her, her partner, and my three cousins moved across the country to stay with us while they got back on their feet. My house turned from a family of four to a family of nine overnight, complete with three dogs and five cats between us.

It took a few years for them to get a place of their own, but after a few rentals and apartments, they now own a split level ranch in a town nearby. I’ve lost track of how many coworkers and friends have stayed with them when they were in a tight spot. A mother and son getting out of an abusive relationship, a divorcee trying to stay local for his kids while they work out a custody agreement, you name it. My aunt and uncle knew first hand what that kindness meant, and always find space for someone who needed it, the way my parents had for them.

That same aunt and uncle visited me in [redacted] city last year. They are prolific drinkers, so we spent most of the day bar hopping. As we wandered the city, any time we passed a homeless person, my uncle would pull out a fresh cigarette and ask them if they had a light. Regardless of if they had a lighter on hand or not, he offered them a few bucks in exchange, which he explained to me after was because he felt it would be easier for them to accept in exchange for a service, no matter how small.

I work for a company that produces a lot of fabric waste. Every few weeks, I bring two big black trash bags full of discarded material over to a woman who works down the hall. She distributes them to local churches, quilting clubs, and teachers who can use them for crafts. She’s currently in the process of working with our building to set up a recycling program for the smaller pieces of fabric that are harder to find use for.

One of my best friends gives monthly donations to four or five local organizations. She’s fortunate enough to have a tech job that gives her a good salary, and she knows that a recurring donation is more valuable to a non-profit because they can rely on that money month after month, and can plan ways to stretch that dollar for maximum impact. One of those organizations is a native plant trust, and once she’s out of her apartment complex and in a home with a yard, she has plans to convert it into a haven of local flora.

My partner works for a company that is working to help regulate crypto and hold the current bad actors in the space accountable for their actions. We unfortunately live in a time where technology develops far too fast for bureaucracy to keep up with, but just because people use a technology for ill gain doesn’t mean the technology itself is bad. The blockchain is something that she finds fascinating and powerful, and she is using her degree and her expertise to turn it into a tool for good.

I knew someone who always had a bag of treats in their purse, on the odd chance they came across a stray cat or dog, they had something to offer them.

I follow artists who post about every local election they know of, because they know their platform gives them more reach than the average person, and that they can leverage that platform to encourage people to vote in elections that get less attention, but in many ways have more impact on the direction our country is going to go.

All of this to say, there’s more than one way to do good in the world. Social media leads us to believe that the loudest, the most vocal, the most prolific poster is the most virtuous, but they are only a piece of the puzzle. (And if virtue for virtues sake is your end goal, you’ve already lost, but that’s a different post). Community is built of people leveraging their privileges to help those without them. We need people doing all of those things and more, because no individual can or should do all of it. You would be stretched too thin, your efforts valiant, but less effective in your ambition.

None of this is to encourage inaction. Identify your unique strengths, skills, and privileges, and put them to use. Determine what causes are important to you, and commit to doing what you can to help them. Collective action is how change is made, but don’t forget that we need diversity in actions taken.

#long post #some thoughts I’ve been having

[wild-at-mind]

Also now I'm feeling really shit about not getting to anything for trans day of remembrance this year.

#i literally missed it because i suck :( #but also i've been feeling kind of weird sometimes about it #the name reading where you just know all the latin american names are mispronounced #this is the uk where it's harder to find a latinx person (or even a spanish person) to be able to help with that or do the reading #but still i think it needs some preparation beforehand if at all possible #i know these things don't have the greatest support network behind them but still :/ #i just think there's something really sad about messing up the names of trans people specifically! #even if it's not in a misnaming/transphobic context #also i've seen the criticisms i know this can tend to be about white middle class trans people making it about ourselves #or something but i don't know what the solution to that is #and like any vigil maybe it's main purpose is as a symbol and to bring people together #i just remember in like 2018 when i travelled to the next town over (because there's nothing like that here) #and went to the before event and it was packed out #and my people from my bi/pan meetup group were there (i wish that group still existed :( ) #some as allies and many as trans people because surprise tonnes of bi and pan people are trans way more than you'd think from the discourse #i was kind of in the in between space between ally and trans back then #i had no idea what i to do about that but in that moment i felt such love and compassion coming to me from that room #the kind i had trouble giving to myself #i think that has value even though i fully take on board the criticism of the day #we can say trans people murdered around the world are our siblings but we really have no idea what their lives are like #but maybe that's the key thing-that solidarity can still happen if we look outwards as well as inwards? #figuring out you're trans means looking inwards by necessity but we can also look outwards and say 'i can't ever fully understand #but i want to' #i don't know i feel weird tonight sorry to ramble :(

[as-rare-as-trees]

Why go to bed early, when you can't bring yourself to wake up early anyway

#gonna rant #i am 💫staring at the ceiling💫 #kind of hate this #was studying but then I got to the end of the part I decided I would do today so suddenly I couldn't bring myself to continue #even if I had the energy for it #but I couldn't bring myself to do any other activity as well #because I should have been studying or because everything felt too time or energy consuming I guess? #so obviously the best solution was to just stare in space trying to decide what to do #which led me to lying on my bed staring at the ceiling #why don't you just go to sleep then you might ask #what are you even suggesting? that I either get up before 7 or that I sleep more than 7 hours?? #because I know that 7 hours seems to be the amount of sleep most likely to make me feel a little rested #(no more and no less. but it's summer so it's even harder to get up and I feel horribly when I do) #and because getting up before 7 feels so early and what am I gonna do with all that time?? #(my productivity is at its worse in the morning and somehow I end up losing so much time with literally nothing) #i hate this #you know that post I made about wanting to shake myself by the shoulders #yeah #why the fuck do I have to find a problem in anything #and I get anxious if I get up after 8 because that as well feels like I'm wasting time #I'm not tired enough to fall asleep quickly and I can't bring myself to do anything and and- #plus my brother is also going to wake up early tomorrow cause he has some extra classes in school #so I'm gonna be slowed down in my waking up routine if we get up at the same time #i guess I'll try to sleep and be bothered that I'll take too much time #hopefully if I got to bed earlier and my alarms are set for earlier I'll manage to get up at just the right time #funny cause I am interrupting my wangxian queue with my ranting #IF I HAD JUST BOUGHT THE RIGHT PEARLS I COULD HAVE BEEN MAKING MY CHOKER BUT NOO #maybe it is truly just that that messed up my plans #vaneggiando #rereading the tags and they make no sense great 💀

[craycraybluejay]

You know how a pretty obvious majority of kinksters are submissives? You want to know a big part of the reason why it's hard to find a dom that's into the same hard kink you are?

Ask a hardcore masochist what they think of being whipped.

Then ask a hard sadist what they think of whipping someone.

Do you notice that the sadist/dom will often either dance around an answer or try to use soothing language/euphemism not unlike the way how in many places people are still expected to discuss sex if at all. Gentle, calculated language.

The issue is, especially with a new surge of purity culture overtaking so-called "leftist" online circles, is that fantasy becomes a moral judgement.

Sub with a noncon kink: "I want to be raped" (cnc but like. People can talk ab it how they want don't cancel me fr.)

Response from Normies: "well that's weird and kinda dark but ok"

Dom with a noncon kink: "I want to rape"

Response from Normies: "I'm calling the police and you should kys and you're also a sexual abuser and even though you haven't said anything about kids you're also also a pedophile :)"

Not only does the attitude of murderous hatred against doms/tops with hard kinks/fetishes/paraphilias make it difficult for them to practice those kinks (safely and ethically) out of fear of social backlash if it's ever found out even if both they and their partner[s] had a great time and are fine-- but, it actively puts innocent people in danger by equating thoughts and attractions of ANY KIND to the act of hurting others against their will. It equates fantasy, which can oftentimes be played out safely if in a modified way with real harmful actions.

Also, kink is still illegal in many places, so don't "its illegal" me about harder kinks. Law is not morality, none of us are free until all of us are free, etc. You get the gist.

You want to see more doms? Meet someone who can indulge your "scary badwrong" sexy feelings? Then maybe don't actively promote a culture where you put ANY kind of attraction or kink under fire. It doesn't matter if it'd be unethical to act out in real life. Some of the most common kinks worldwide are unethical as fuck to act out irl, including rape. That's why we have cnc, come on, guys.

You know what? In fact, you SHOULD actively shun people who shame others for their sexual feelings. EVEN if you think it's gross. EVEN if it wouldn't be ethical to act on irl. Let these types know that their puritan ideals are NOT accepted here. Let them know that if they want to go to church they can do that but not in your space, not forcing other (non consenting!) people to listen to their hateful and repressive ideology.

Like, hey, I'm not into ABDL, for example. But I will defend to the death other people's right to be into that. To think and feel whatever they think and feel. You think diapers are sexy? Great! I don't personally see the appeal, but you do you boo. There is no Correct Way to be sex/kink negative. Either you believe in thought crime or you don't.

And yes, this post includes "harmful" paraphilias (I put it in quotes because they're only harmful if acted on), sadomasochism, mutilation fetishism, etc etc. Every "gross" or "evil" kink, fetish, para you can possibly imagine. The stuff that makes you horny is just stuff that makes you horny, and being horny is normal. Being "weird horny" is also normal. No one deserves to experience shame, let alone public harassment or hate over feelings they most of the time don't Choose to have. Be mindful of puritan rhetoric and strike it down when you see it.

#important #psa #hard kink #nsft topic #pro para #pro kink #the 'dom shortage' #obv there are other factors but this is just a connection I'm pointing out #purity culture #purity wank #puritans #sex and sexuality #tw r@pe mention #p3d0 panic/the trend of calling everyone you don't like a p43d0phi13 despite that that's as i said before #NOT the same thing as csa or ANYTHING like that and simply an experienced attraction #attraction is not r@pe; foot fetishists r not going to randomly hump ur foot and same w ever other kink #thought crime #puritanism #the purity culture wave #discourse #except if you disagree pls block me this is a pro kink blog forever and ever #thoughts are thoughts #anti para people scare me bc if u think someone cant help but have sex with someone/something theyre attracted to... #what EXACTLY are you going to do if someone romantically rejects you???????????? #turning the argument around here. if this is your belief then i do not trust you around me and my loved ones #because if attraction is action then i am scared for the people you are attracted to #because it isn't. and the fact that you think it is says more about you than anyone you hate for their attractions

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.1K]

Jealousy, reassurance and Steve. Prompts: “why didn’t you tell me where you were?” And “I’m not being overdramatic.” Was this supposed to be a 500 word prompt? Yes, we don’t talk about it.

You hated it, you hated it, you hated it.

It was a gross feeling, an awful sensation that felt thick like tar, clinging to your chest, enough of it to make you ache and feel heavy. It crawled up your throat, making you feel too hot and by the time you’d spotted your boyfriend in the food court, standing talking to a pretty blonde girl, the lunch you’d brought him had went cold in your hand.

Anxiety? Perhaps not. Jealousy? You hated that that emotion seemed to sit better on your tongue, bitterly so.

And when Steve waited for you in his car later, the engine running and the heating on full so it was warm enough for you, jealousy still clung to you in an ugly way.

“Hey, babe,” Steve greeted as you slumped into the passenger seat. He was reading the back of a new cassette tape, absent minded as he scratched off the price sticker and leaned over to give you a kiss. He didn’t seem to notice - or mind - that you turned and gave him your cheek. “How was work?”

You hummed, non committal and fussed with your bag, pushing it down into the footwell. “Was fine,” you mumbled. “Yours?”

You wondered if this was when Steve admitted to rendezvousing with a girl in secret, if he’d try to deny it. The logical part of your brain told you that there was absolutely nothing secret about meeting someone in the middle of the busy food court on a Saturday afternoon, but the jealous bubble that had grown inside of you was having none of it. It grew and grew, a blue-green ball that took up all the cracks and crevices between your ribs until it felt like you’d burst from the pressure.

Steve was backing out of the parking space, his arm thrown around your headrest and he nodded, eyes on the rear window. “Yeah, yeah, it was alright. Got busy after lunch so it wasn’t too slow, y’know?”

“Right.” You nodded, suddenly finding breathing a weary task. Your throat was tight, your eyes hot. Lunch. “I, uh— I came to visit you on mine. My lunch.”

Steve blinked, chancing a quick glance at you now he was on the straight road back to Hawkins. He blinked in surprise. “You did? I hate that I missed you, babe, m’sorry.” His hand found your knee and squeezed. “I must’ve been in the back or something.”

You didn’t say anything. Not for a few minutes. Because Steve was your first real relationship you didn’t know the rules and you didn’t know what to say and you’d never, ever experienced the kind of fizzing, hot dread that was clawing at your throat—

“Did you go out at lunch?”

Steve turned to look at you once more, a fleeting glance with knitted brows and a small, if not unsure, smile on his face. You were being weird. Your voice was quieter than normal, soft and formal all at once and you hadn’t put your hand over his as it sat on your knee still.

“Yeah,” he told you, wondering why you asked. “I forgot mine at home, ran to the food court and grabbed some fries.” His thumb rubbed over you. “Must’ve been when I missed you, huh?”

“Mmm,” you hummed again, head ducked, fingers tangled in your lap. Steve was frowning. “Did you go back to the store? After?”

“What?” It was becoming harder to concentrate on the road. The street lights flickered to life as the evening set in and the orange-white glow of them made the wet in your eyes shine. Steve was alarmed, wondering why on earth you looked like you were close to tears. “Baby— after I got my fries? I mean, yeah?”

Steve would’ve almost missed the way your bottom lip trembled if he hadn’t slowed for the stop sign. “Honey? What? What’s going on?”

You broke then, watery eyes and lip tucked between your teeth as you tried not to let out the audible sob that was stuck in your throat. It was a silly thing, to feel such intense emotions, especially over a scenario you knew little about, but that heavy feeling had clawed at your chest all day and you felt smaller than you ever had, too hot and itchy to be in your own skin and something - somehow - had to get out—

“Baby,” Steve was more than alarmed now, wide eyed as he pulled over to the side of the road, the wheel turning dramatically in his hands as he killed the engine and unbuckled his belt. “Baby, what is it, huh? C’mon, talk to me—“

He was leaning over the console to you, brown eyes shining with concern as one big hand chased your wet cheek, pushing at you softly until you lifted your chin for him. Steve made a soft noise at the sight of you, glassy eyed and huffing as you tried to tamper down your shaky breaths.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why didn’t you tell me where you were?” It wasn’t what you had planned to say, but it was the only thing that made it past your lips in the moment.

The boy’s face crumbled in confusion, brows creased. “At lunch? I did…what?”

You sniffed, immediately feeling silly but you were too far gone, too deep in. You swiped hastily as your cheeks, too meanly for Steve’s liking and he chased your fingers with much kinder ones.

“You said you went back to the store,” your breath hitched, a shuddering thing as you pulled in a gasp of air. God, this was so silly, this was so stupid. Your body burned. “After your lunch— you said you went back.”

Steve looked at you a little plainly, the little gears that most men had in their heads whirring into overdrive. He looked confused, grasping at your words and trying to decipher what they meant. “Yeah?” He tried weakly.

“But I saw you,” another hiccup, another fresh tear that you managed to catch before Steve did and the boy frowned deeper when you pulled your face away from his touch. “I saw you in the food court, you were talking to a girl.”

You were very aware of how childish the sentence was as it left your lips. But you were tired, defeated. You’d held onto the jealousy and fear and anxiety all day and now that it was out, you were exhausted, shoulders slumping and mouth twisted into a pout that Steve really wanted to be able to kiss away.

But recognition settled over him at your words and his lips fell into a small ‘o’ of understanding. He tried not to smile, he really did, knowing how much it would upset you further, so he pressed his lips together and nodded before speaking.

“You saw me with Tammy Thomson.” It wasn’t a question.

You sniffed and shrugged, suddenly playing indifference now you knew the blondes name.

“Baby,” Steve tried again, bringing his hand back up to sweep along your jaw, his thumb pushing gently against your cheek. It was a fond touch, dripping in affection and you so wanted to lean into it. “She was an old school friend.”

You scoffed. You might have not went to Hawkins High like Steve had, but you’d had enough conversations with Robin and Eddie to know the list of people that had crushed hard on Steve. Tammy Thomson’s name had come up on serval occasions.

“You weren’t going to tell me you ran into her?” You mumbled, staring at your skirt.

Steve floundered for a second, lips moving without sound as he tried to find the right words before settling on the honest to gods truth. “I actually kinda forgot.” He shrugged, apologetic. “I wasn’t thinking about it. It, uh, it wasn’t an important part of my day, y’know?”

Embarrassment washed over you in a hot, sticky curtain, leaving you just as teary as before. You hated what you were insinuating with your words, what you were accidentally accusing Steve of. He wasn’t trying to hide anything from you, despite what your brain had told you all day. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

“God— urgh,” your eyes watered again but you squeezed the heel of each palm to them before the tears could fall. Stupid, stupid, stupid. “I, I’m sorry. Can you take me home? Please.”

The car drop sat at the side of the road, the inside cooler now the engine wasn’t running and you hated the idea of someone you knew driving by and seeing your tear stricken face - or worse, thinking that at this was the spot you’d chosen to make out with your boyfriend.

Although, you’d much prefer that right now.

“Hey, hey,” Steve’s voice was achingly soft and closer than before as he moved in. His hands found your wrists and gently pulled them away from your face, easing the pressure you’d put on your poor, swollen eyes. “C’mon now, talk to me? Please?”

You blinked as the world and the boy came back into view, lip still trembling and you felt too soft, too delicate, way too vulnerable. Steve’s gaze was just as gentle though, kinder than you thought you deserved.

“I shouldn’t have—“

Accused? Spied? You weren’t sure what you were going to say but Steve interrupted you regardless. “Wanna know what I was thinking about?” His thumbs stroked over the soft skin on the inside of your wrists as he held them between you both. He didn’t wait for an answer. “You.”

You could’ve cried again if Steve had let you, but he seemed to sense the stuttering of your chest and he smiled, a little teasing, a lot loving. “You, fries - of course, how much I hate my boss, where I wanted to take you out for dinner tomorrow, how I heard about this new movie I thought you’d like.”

Adoration filled the cavernous space your jealousy had once been.

“I think about you a lot,” Steve told you, grimacing playfully like it was something shameful and secretive. It made you smile, head falling forward to rest against your joined hands. “It’s sick, actually, right?”

You nodded, face still hidden and joining in on the joke because you didn’t know what else to do or say. Not in the car at least. Maybe, you thought, when you got back home you’d invite the boy in and cover him in kisses. Apologetic ones, loving ones, doting ones, from head to toe if you had to.

“You okay?” He asked, more serious now. “Can you look at me?”

How could say no?

You lifted your head and Steve tutted, lips pressed thin as he took in your puffy eyes and tear streaked cheeks. He used your hands in his to wipe away the damp tracks, so much softer than you’d done before, making you treat yourself with so much more care and kindness.

He raised his brows, waiting on an answer.

“I’m okay,” your voice was raspy from emotion and you coughed, embarrassed. “Steve, I’m sorry.”

Steve shook his head shrugging. “It’s okay. Just— just talk to me next time, yeah? Don’f tiptoe around what’s making you sad, babe. I wanna be able to fix it for you.”

You nodded, still aching with all the emotion, both good and bad. The self conscious side of you couldn’t help but ask, “do you think I was being overdramatic?”

Steve’s lip quirked up, something he managed to tame quickly. He frowned, leaning in to press a kiss at your hot cheek. “You?” He murmured into your skin, nose pressed to the soft skin by your mouth. “Overdramatic? My crybaby? Since when?”

There was laughter laced in his words, a light teasing you’d taken months to get used to but you recognised it for what it was. Fondness, familiarity, a way to break the heavy tension and make you smile.

So you did, lips lifting and brows crinkling all at the same time. “I’m not being overdramatic!” You watched Steve grin as he started the car again, looking both ways before pulling back into the lane. “I thought— I thought you were—”

“What?” Steve glanced at you, grinning. He caught your hand and lifted it to his lips, stamping a kiss on the back of it and held it on your lap, not letting go. “You thought I was gonna get my fries and runaway with Tammy Thomson? Never to return?”

You didn’t say anything, you just say back in the chair and tried not to pout, because, yeah, that’s exactly what you thought. You just hated how stupid it sounded coming from someone’s mouth and not your own head.

“And leave you?” Steve tutted, head shaking as he kept up the playful tone. There was a lot of love on his eyes when he looked over at you. “Baby, c’mon now.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington oneshot

[chososdiscordkitten]

Ex-Husband Gojo

artist: yunonoai on twt

Synopsis: Gojo as ur ex-husband trying to win you back („• ᴗ •„)

Pairing: Gojo x Fem!Reader Content: no use of y/n nor mentions of readers appearance, THERES PLOT IN THIS ONE!! Mentions of pregnancy and getting back together again, seducing(?), fingering, spanking ONCE, reader gets folded like a chair, multiple orgasms, cream pie, aftercare(?)

(a.n) underlined text is a link incase u need a picture of the position :>

MDNI

You could never hate Gojo, even if you had been divorced for a year- pretending to barely tolerate him when you saw him. 

But you knew in your marrow- you could never hate him. The only man in your life for the past 7 years, father of your child, and provider of anything you could ask for.

The divorce didn’t even affect Gojo- even as he was signing the papers, he still looked at you like you hung the moon and the stars.

“Give my wife whatever she wants.” he directed his divorce lawyer, earning an exasperated sigh from your lips. 

Everything your own lawyer asked for, he shrugged. 

The house? “Take it.” he scoffed, looking at you with all the love in the world. 

Child support? He didn’t even blink. Satoru offered to give you money every month. As long as you didn’t work and stayed at home to care for his son.

Forget the cars or the cabin in the mountains you would go to in the winter to ski. None of that bothered Satoru. He would give you whatever you requested as long as it made you happy. 

It only made your head pulse- the way the divorce lawyers were looking at you like you were some kind of horrible villain. Divorcing a seemingly loving husband who would give you anything and everything you asked for. 

That was until you asked for sole custody of your child, knowing he barely had time when you were married; how would he find the time as a single father?

“No,” he said sternly, in a deeper tone—now taking this seriously. “50-50, or nothing.” he threatened, a dark aura looming over his figure as you caved. 

You asked for a divorce, not because he never gave you enough— that was never the problem. Gojo loved giving and had more than enough to offer, especially to his wife and child. 

The issue was, two years into marriage, he knocked you up. It wasn’t a problem though. Married, old enough, and stable enough to welcome a child into the world.

Satoru was present a lot more for those 9 months you were growing his child. Ignoring the responsibilities of his demanding job. 

Nine months of pure bliss. Moving into a house, painting your child’s nursery together. Shopping for clothes, going through Satoru’s unbelievably long list of baby names- 90% of which you said ‘no’ to. 

The two years before you were pregnant, you were aware of how demanding Gojo’s job really was. You knew he would be gone more often than he was present. 

And it didn't bother you. If it made Satoru happy and he still returned to you at the end of the day- you didn't mind. 

But during those nine months of growing his child, you thought the rest of your lives together would be the same. You thought he would be present more often than not.

And when you were pushing his big-headed child into the world, it was almost like a switch flipped in Satoru’s mind. As though he looked down to the child that was undeniably his, lily white hair—the same shade as his, and bright blue eyes, just like his father's. Gojo saw the future in the boy he held in his hands. 

Gojo never told you, but that day, he realized he had to work harder, to give you and his son the best lives you could have. 

He distanced himself, making sure to leave as much space between you and his work as he could. This led to you wondering if he just didn’t find you attractive anymore, or if the domestic cookie-cutter life wasn’t enough for him. 

Had he told you the truth- maybe the divorce would have been avoidable. But Satoru saw this divorce settlement as you throwing a fit. 

Deep down, it hurt him. It pained his heart even thinking that you would consider leaving him, but he allowed you to sign those papers. 

It only meant he would have to make you fall in love with him all over again. 

You scoffed at his demand of 50-50 custody, knowing you saw him two nights a week when you were married. Not even being able to fathom how he could handle having your son 50% of the time. 

But Satoru surprised you in that area. Always being on time to pick up his kid from your doorstep, giving you a big hug every time he would see you. Even kissing your forehead when he would leave. 

You didn’t think anything of it- he invested so much of himself in your marriage; it was instinct by now.

But when you’d be at the park with them, watching him hold the little hand of the mini Gojo that looked identical to him. Smiling with a soft warmth, Satoru may have always run out of time- constantly. But it was undeniable that he was a fantastic father. 

When he ran into an acquaintance from work, he still introduced you as his lovely wife. So often that you stopped correcting him, knowing he would only start complaining if you did.

Even if the law saw you as a single mom. Technically, divorced and with a 5-year-old toddler on your hip. 

Satoru still looked at you and saw his wife. Mother of his child, homemaker, and the only person that helped him heal- the person who gave him the privilege of being a father. 

In his eyes, you were still his. Didn’t matter if you were divorced or not; the marriage dynamic was still present between you two.

Of the two of you, Satoru was the one who was least embarrassed about the little slip-ups. Late nights after you put your toddler down to sleep, wine glasses in hand as you recalled memories from married life. 

9 out of 10 times, it always ended with Satoru’s lips crashing into yours, greedily slotting his tongue past your lips as his hands pulled you to straddle his thighs. 

Nights ending with being cuddled up together, undressed and on the bed you didn’t replace when he moved out. And mornings being awakened by the smell of pancakes coming from the kitchen. 

Walking down the stairs with puffy eyes, “Your mama always sleep in this late?” you heard Satoru speak from the kitchen, followed by a little laugh your son chimed.

Nodding your head disapprovingly with a smile, watching your child pull Satoru’s ear to his lips, letting out a small ‘tsk’ at what his child whispered into his ear. 

The sight was always heartwarming, knowing things could’ve been like this all the time if things were different.

And every afternoon, when Satoru would practically be forced out of the house- came the talk of “This can’t happen again. It’s confusing for him-” Only for Satoru to kiss your cheek.

“Won’t happen again.” he would smile, knowing that declaration was a mere tool to end conversations like these. Knowing as long as you allowed it- mornings like these would keep happening. 

There was still a lot- almost too much love, between you and Satoru. You knew this couldn’t continue, branching out and thinking of ways to not be so involved. Being all too aware of the fact that, for the past 7 years, your life has only been your husband and your son. 

Ex-Husband. 

That only proved your point- Satoru slowly started embedding the idea of calling him your husband again, that even in your own mind you still referred to him as such.

You knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. To continue entertaining the potential of getting together again. You considered it at first, if he was such a changed man and all he needed was to be reminded of what he lost to change his ways, would it be so bad to get back together?

But the slip-ups and nights shared together in each other's arms were too good to be true. 

You feared that the same thing would happen if you allowed him fully into your life again. He would show you the best parts of him at first, then go back to neglecting his responsibilities to you and his child. 

So when you asked Gojo to babysit for one evening. Instead of asking you why, he asked his 5-year-old son. Who came running up to him, pulling Satoru's hair to whisper another secret into his ear- barely legible and full of amused giggles: “Mommy has a date.” 

Satoru must’ve heard wrong- it almost sounded like his son said you- his wife, had a date with someone other than him. 

He tried getting more information out of his son, playfully asking who, where, and why. But the little man only scoffed, saying that you only said you had a date, and that’s why Dad had to watch him that evening. 

And on the day of, Satoru showed up at your doorstep looking offensively good. Fresh haircut and his hair half dry, a white t-shirt that was entirely too tight, and gray sweats- with nothing under them (slut). And to top it all off, your favorite cologne spritzed onto his chest. 

You opened your front door- you furrowed your eyebrows in disbelief, eyeing the man before you. You hated when he would purposefully show up on your doorstep looking fucking scrumptious. It was too tempting. 

And as he always does- he pulls you into a rib-crushing hug, ensuring you get a face full of his scent. Kissing the top of your head as you loosely wrapped your arms around his waist. “You look gorgeous,” he murmured against your scalp, pulling away from him and scoffing. 

Walking back into the entryway of your house, hearing him step behind you and close the door- “I thought I told you to come at 7.” you muttered, trying to shake off the invading thoughts of the apparent print in his sweats. 

“I wanted to see you before you left.” Satoru mumbled behind you, following you up the stairs of his house and listening to the TV playing your child’s favorite cartoon. 

You only hummed in response to the excuse as to why he was here a whole 2 hours before you were to leave. 

While you were showering, Gojo sat on the couch supervising his son, who was asking any question that popped into the little man’s mind. Questions the child would ask you, but refuse to think you were telling the truth. So he would ask his Dad, and believe him instead.

You found it frustrating that your child believed Satoru more than he believed you- but endearing that he would always run things by his father.

All the while, answering the little questions his toddler asked- Satoru wondered if you still had that bad habit of leaving the bathroom door unlocked while you showered. 

But Satoru knew he had to take a more subtle approach to the delicate situation at hand. 

As he heard the sound of the shower halting- thanking the noisy plumbing the house had. It always let him know you were stepping out of the shower from wherever he was in the house.

He rose from the couch and grabbed his child from the floor. “Let’s go see what mommy’s doing.” Gojo smiled as he hooked his hands beneath his child's arms, hearing happy laughter from the little human in his hands as he ran up the stairs.

Satoru always liked watching you get dressed, even if it was to go see another man. He enjoyed watching the care you put into your appearance. 

He walked into the humid restroom, his eyes catching the half-way-done zipper of your dress. “Zip me,” you murmured, looking into the mirror as you applied your makeup. 

Satoru placed his child on the ground and walked up behind you, his eyes catching the clasp of your lace undergarment. He furrowed his eyebrows, realizing it was one he hadn't seen before. 

He lightly placed his hand on your hip, his face too close to your shoulder, as his fingers slowly worked up the zipper. Gojo’s thumb caressed your clothed hip, giving you a light squeeze before letting go of the zipper. 

Pressing your thighs together slightly and trying to ignore the warmth of his hand. 

So as he sat on the edge of the bathtub, his child bouncing on his lap, watching you with an adoring gaze, enjoying the angle he had of you slightly bent over the sink. “Where’d you say you were going again?” squinting his eyes as you swiped away any misplaced makeup on your cheek. 

“Out.” you scoffed, knowing if you told him the truth he would only start whining at you. 

So he flashed his eyes to his son, “Do you know?” he whispered, watching his son hold back a laugh as you rolled your eyes. 

As much as you disliked being the bad cop in most parenting scenarios, your child always took his side- always told him the truth when he’d ask.

“Mommy has a date.” he giggled, only for you to look to your side and squint your eyes, “Traitor.” you murmured, watching Satoru’s jaw fall in feigned shock. 

“A date?” he pursed his lips, looking at you sadly. “You asked me to watch my child to go on a date?” his tone was full of sarcasm, watching you nod your head ‘no’ as you looked back into the mirror. 

“It’s just dinner-” you muttered, trying to avoid his harsh gaze on your profile. “Besides, I’m sure you have your fair share of them.” 

Satoru gasped your name, placing his hands on either side of his child’s head and covering his ears.

“You accuse me of cheating in front of our child? I only have room for one woman in my heart.” he scoffed, placing a hand onto his chest- almost as though he found offense in knowing you could- but he never would.

“It’s not cheating, we aren’t married anymore.” 

He pulled his hands from his child’s ears, eye twitching at your declaration. “Who is he?” he asked, tone more severe as his child played with his hands. You sighed, “I have a right to know-” he started- earning for you to look at him with an irritated expression. 

“Just a parent from his school.”

Satoru squinted his eyes. He knew he couldn’t ask you to homeschool his child- ‘socialization’ and all that. But now, Satoru had to worry about you being pawed at while dropping off his son at kindergarten. 

In some attempts to not show he was starting to get pissed off, “If you were into single dads- you have one right here~” Gojo grinned, watching the grimace on your face churn from his attempt at flirting. 

“That’s not it, but thank you for that.” you scoffed, curling your eyelashes and feeling his eyes pierce your skin. 

“So what is it?” he hummed, wanting to know what this man had that he didn’t. 

With a sigh you rolled your eyes, hearing your child slide off his lap and patter out of the bathroom. “I don't wanna talk about this anymore.” you muttered, sensing Satoru rise from the tub's edge and shift behind you, placing his hands around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. 

“I wanna know who you’re replacin’ me with,” he whined in your ear, causing you to scoff and look down to the sink. 

You were used to Satoru clinging to you- showing his affection to you even if you weren’t together anymore. 

Satoru pressed his hips onto your slightly bent bottom, his lips barely grazing your ear, “If this is about your needs- I’m here for that too, y’know.” he whispered into your ear. Making sure you could feel his print against your bottom as he pressed himself closer to you. 

Your breathing increased slightly, parting your lips as his hands around your waist squeezed you tighter. “You don’t have to look for anyone else-” he whispered, lips pressing onto the shell of your ear as you closed your eyes. 

“I’m here whenever you need me,”

Mentally battling the temptation with every whisper into your ear, his breathing grazing your skin, causing goosebumps to rise to the surface. 

Satoru was about to murmur another temptation into your ear. Until your child's crying voice echoed through the bathroom walls. Rushing out of the bathroom and finding your son on the ground of your bedroom- Tiny droplets of blood oozed from his little knee, with fat tears leaving his blue eyes. 

Satoru wasted no time scooping up the crying child from the ground, hushing him with small assurances that it was okay. 

Though it was only a scrape- it was enough for Satoru to convince you to call up this, ‘Fellow parent from school’ and tell him you had to cancel. Setting no reschedule day as Gojo purposefully called out to you- “Honey, where are the band-aid’s?~” 

And with that, Satoru got what he wanted. Your date was canceled, and the man backed off. 

After too many treats and much-needed coddling from his father, your son dozed off in Gojo’s arms as he walked up the stairs, exhausted from the sobbing. Placing him onto the little race car bed he built- recalling the day Satoru helped you paint the bedroom. 

You settled onto the living room couches and thanked him for being here. “M’sorry if you had any plans.” You sighed, looking at the well-favored man before you. 

Gojo scoffed, “No plans are more important than you.” with a slight smile on his lips. 

“And your son.” you clarified with a warm grin.

Satoru looked down at your hands. “And my son.” He repeated your words, reaching for your hands and holding them in his. Scooching the tiniest bit closer to you, “Thank you,” he muttered, caressing the backs of your hands with his thumbs. 

“For what?” looking at him adoringly. 

Gojo blinked his eyes as he engulfed the sight of your expression. Looking back at him with the same look you had when you were still married. “For bein’ a good mom,” he whispered, slowly inching closer to you. 

“-nd a good wife,” he whispered, watching your eyebrows furrow at the proclamation, cheeks tingling from hearing him call you that. Parting his lips as you leaned in closer to him. 

The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, “Why did we ever get divorced, hmm?” he whispered, darting his gaze from your eyes down to your lips. Trying to recall the last time he tasted you- finding it offensive that he couldn’t even remember. 

You gulped slightly, watching his eyes go half-lidded as he leaned closer to you. You blinked your eyes closed- feeling the last of your reservations dissolve in your mind as you pressed your lips against his. 

Satoru’s eyes half-lidded as he watched your eyebrows pinch up- letting go of your hands as he traced his fingertips up your arms. Lightly swiping his tongue against your bottom lip, parting your mouth to grant him entry. 

Your hands making their way to his torso- feeling the thin fabric of his shirt beneath your fingers. Sighing as his tongue pressed against yours, his hands trailing to your back. 

Pulling you closer to him as his fingers reached the zipper of your dress. Soft hums of appeasement rumbling onto his tongue. Tugging down the zipper slowly as your hands found the bottom of his shirt, tracing your hands beneath the fabric.

Your fingers grasping against his carved torso desperately, your thumb lightly caressing his happy trail. His hands slipped past the opening of your dress- sprawling against your back. 

You pulled away- looking into his eyes. His cheeks flushed and lips puffy. “We can’t-” you breathed, hoping he would have the strength to put a halt to this. You swallowed- mouthing another ‘we can't.’ before pressing your lips onto his again. 

Letting a soft moan slip your lips as he pulled the top of your dress down- feeling the light grazes of his fingers against your skin. Placing his hand on your side, sliding up your torso and cupping the underside of your laced breast. 

Feeling a twinge of anger once he felt it was a bralette- only a thin layer of lace separating his hand from your soft skin. Even more when he remembered why you would be wearing this. 

Tracing his thumb over the little peak beneath the lace, giving it a soft swipe. Earning a light hum to leave your lips onto his. 

And to check- just to be sure he wasn’t getting mad over nothing; Satoru pulled his lips from yours. Placing damp kisses onto your cheek. Peppering them down your neck, soft sighs and moans leaving your lips were heard as hymns to Satoru’s ears.

Making sure to pay extra attention to your collarbone, taking a few seconds to suck harshly on the skin. Even if you didn’t wear your wedding ring anymore- this was his way of showing any other men that you were claimed- that you were his. 

His hands shifted your hips to sit correctly on the couch, slumped with your dress bunched on your thighs. Satoru trailed wet kisses to the swell of your breast, lightly pressing his tongue onto your laced nipple and swirling against the fabric, coaxing a light moan to fall from your lips. 

Though your eyes were closed, Satoru's grip on your waist told you that he was furious. Had you opened them, you would have seen his jealous eyes looking back at you. 

Satoru hoped he was wrong- hoped you wouldn’t do this to him. All but praying he wouldn’t have to do what he had to if he was right. 

His hands hooked onto the bunched-up fabric of your dress, shifting it down your thighs and pulling it from your body entirely before he pulled his lips from your tummy. 

Looking down at the matching lace panties- soaked as they were, he had never seen them. Gojo’s eye twitched as he looked back up to you, unwilling to come to the fact that you bought- and wore this for another man. 

Satoru liked thinking he was a patient person, calm and collected when he had to be. But the way he rose himself from the ground, manhandling you to flip over and bend your knees on the couch, made him realize he held no more patience for you nor your attempts to make him jealous.

Your hands held onto the back of the couch firmly, keeping yourself up as Satoru’s hands landed on your hips. Groping the malleable skin as you whimpered, pressing your bottom back to the growing erection in his sweats. 

“You wore this for him?” he mumbled behind you, slipping his thumb beneath the thin band of lace. Exhaling, feeling yourself soak your panties even further. 

You bit your lip, looking down at your hands in shame- knowing whatever you said now would only make him more bitter. 

Murmuring something- quiet enough for Satoru not to comprehend. He huffed a smile, “What was that?” he teased, pressing his bulge against your bent bottom, pushing you further against the wall. 

“Tell the truth.” 

You looked back slightly, peering at the crazed man behind you. Biting your lip and facing the wall, “I did.” 

As a reward for your honesty, Satoru gave you a firm spank against your bottom. Causing you to jolt forward with a soft whimper. 

“You’re that needy?” Gojo teased, caressing the warm skin of your bottom, soothing the sting. “That you have to cheat on me?” you exhaled- not wanting to admit how attractive it was that he was scolding you for something he shouldn’t be. 

Taking his hands from your hips and hooking them onto the sides of your panties, slipping them down your hips to be greeted with your soaked cunt. Glistening with the taste he craved from the minute he moved out. 

But even if his mouth watered looking down to your core, he couldn’t bring himself to kneel before you- knowing if he let things go your way, this little farce of divorce would stay in your mind.

No, he had to teach you a lesson, even if he had to pound it into your foolish brain that you were his. 

So as the tips of his fingers grazed your soaked lips- avoiding the bundle of nerves that he was sure was throbbing from how wet you were. 

Circling the tips of his ring and middle finger on your entrance as you let out breathless whines. “I just missed you,” whimpering as you reached a hand back to the one that held your hip in place. 

The words enticed Gojo to dip the very tips of his fingers into your cunt- “Didn’t wanna tell you.” you moaned, admitting the truth he had been wanting to hear for far too long. 

Closing your eyes as he slowly inched his fingers into you. Satoru smiled, feeling your walls welcome him in, too tight to have been recently fucked. So he knew you must be telling the truth. 

Grasping onto his hand, the tips of his fingers prodding into the spot he quickly found every time. 

Your hand that held you up trembling as he lightly curled his fingers. Letting out breathy moans, earning Satoru to smile to himself, “Who knows how to please you like me, hm?” he let out the thoughts from his lips without permission. 

You whined as he pumped his fingers into you with a slow ease. Whimpering softly as he watched with dim eyes. “Who else but me?” he pressed, feeling your grip against his hand tighten. 

“Need you inside ‘toru-” you whined, the hand holding you up gripping the edge of the couch violently. 

Gojo remembered the last time you called him that- biting his lip from the nickname you used to call him when you were still married. And you must’ve known how his mind reels whenever you called him that- or else why would you say it in that tone? 

All but begging for his cock with every light spasm your cunt did around his fingers. 

Satoru was pleased with how pliant you were in his hands, satisfied enough to pull his fingers from your cunt. Quickly removing his shirt before placing his messied hand over his sweats, softly palming himself as he looked at your core- 

Gojo was so sure at that moment- that there was no god- the closest thing to it was what lied between your legs. Pulsing- begging for him to bully his pained cock into it. 

He pulled his hand from his bulge, shoving down the loose band of his sweats and freeing his cock. And as you suspected- no briefs. 

Placing a hand onto his base and lightly tapping his leaky tip onto your ass, causing you to whine. 

Gojo started thinking about how he wanted you- now that you were compliant and needy before him. 

He backed away in the slightest. Kicking off his sweats before moving you to lie back onto the couch. Settling his hips between your thighs. Soaking up the desperate expression you wore as small whimpers left your lips. 

The tip of his cock sliding up and down your cunt- refusing to give you what you ached for. 

His forearms held his torso up as your hands latched behind his neck- legs spread and waiting for him to plunge himself into you. Only Satoru looked into your bleary eyes with a smile, “You wan’me inside?” he huffed- watching your bottom lip quiver, lowering himself close enough for your lips to brush against his.

“Tell me 'nd I will.” he grinned against you- watching your eyes close, trying not to cave to his demands. Biting your lip as he pressed his tip against your entrance- teasing you in the slightest. 

You breathed a light whimper, blinking your eyes open and staring into his power-crazed ones. “Please-” you whined, “Put it inside ‘toru.” the tone you took only made Gojo’s ego boost- smiling with parted lips as he slowly pressed past your entrance. 

A light whimper rumbled from his flushed lips as your hands pulled his neck closer, pressing your lips onto his. Breathing in every whimper, he exhaled onto your tongue as he eased himself into you. 

Being able to feel that you hadn’t fucked anyone recently- That you were faithful to him. And this was all just an attempt to rile him up, which only made him even more eager to burrow himself into you further, ‘You’ve been good. That’s what you deserve,’ he thought as his tongue danced with yours. 

The light sting from the stretch makes you huff out a pained whimper- inching himself deeper till his hips were flush to your thighs. His tip easily found the sweet spot he seemingly had exact coordinates to. 

Satoru placed his hands on your hips, slowly raising himself with your legs locked on his waist. Holding onto your back as you lightly ground your hips flush against his. 

A lazy, sloppy version of a lotus position, pulling away from his lips as you trailed a hand to his hair. Looking into his hazy eyes as his hand assisted your hips. 

Small moans leaving your throat as your lips brushed against his. Not even attempting to kiss him, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep a pattern from how deep he was hitting inside of you. 

A light sheen of sweat coating your forehead as Gojo relished the look in your eyes- just fucked out enough to let the mask slip. Looking at him with love-filled eyes, your bottom lip quivering as your head threatened to tip back. 

Your nose scrunched lightly, neck curving back with a low groan. Not wanting to leave space between you- Satoru placed his lips onto your exposed neck, humming muffled whimpers against your skin as your bottom lip trembled. 

Words forming on the tip of your tongue as you ground your cunt against him. The position so full of intimacy, it made you forget you were doing this with your ex-husband. 

Puffing out a light breath, smile forming at the corner of your lips- sinking into the mouthwatering pleasure you incited with every small thrust. 

“Fuck, I love you.” you moaned mindlessly. But the words rang through Satoru’s ears like church bells, words he hadn’t heard in far too long- even in the past slip-ups. You always held your tongue, making sure to not plant that seed in his mind. 

Gojo almost came when he heard your proclamation, inching you back with his lips attached to your neck. Easing your back onto the arm of the couch, planting a foot onto the ground as your hands kept a tight grip on his neck. Satoru dragged his hips from yours with a loud schlop coming from between your legs. 

Pulling his lips from your neck, he looked at your expression—pinched eyebrows and eyes shut tight- showing him you were close. So close, he could hear it in your sighs of content. 

Satoru leaned down to your ear, huffing a warm breath against your cartilage. Shoving his cock back into you- bottoming out too quickly, earning a whine from your lips. Wasting no time before repeating the movement. Setting a speedy pace with a low whimper.

Sliding your hands up his forearms, landing on his biceps as he quickened the pace- riding himself up an orgasm. 

“Lemme make you a mama again-” he huffed into your ear, his tip nudging your sensitive spot with every thrust- you moaned his name in response, so close your brain would have short-circuited had you tried answering. 

Satoru grunted with a smile, thinking of the words he was about to say. “Marry-” he groaned, feeling your cunt suck him in with every pull he did, “me again.” he whimpered, his thrusts pushing you up further.

Taking a long lick at your ear- urging you to answer him. Pulling away from your neck, placing his hand on your jaw lightly. “Huh?” Satoru grinned.  “Marry me again baby.” Watching your eyes crack open- bearing your teeth softly as you felt the warmth in your tummy over fill. 

Pressing his parted lips to yours sloppily- pulling away, and watching your eyes threaten to roll back. You started nodding your head ‘yes’ in his hand frantically- your walls flexing around his speedy cock as he felt you come undone. 

Your nodding agreement was all Satoru needed to lose the rhythm of his thrusts. Sloppily pushing into your clenching cunt, his whining muffled by his bottom lip being tucked between his teeth. 

Your lips started babbling soundless pleads- ‘please, please,’ and to Satoru’s ears- you were begging for him to fill you. Fill you till he didn’t have anymore to give. 

And as a loving and obedient husband- that’s what he did. 

With one loud grunt- he spilled himself into you- his thrusts slowing, not as long strides, but he made sure to push his seed deeper into you. Keeping that declaration of making you a mom again. 

A low whine left your lips, feeling his warm spend coat your walls with every twitch his cock made inside of you. 

So full, you were sure his proclamation would come true. And he came a lot- as though he was saving it up just for you. 

Heavily breathing as he slowed his thrusts, pressing his forehead to your temple. Trying to catch his breath as he came down, feeling your heartbeat against his own chest- racing and pounding against his sternum. 

Soft kisses planted on your face, your hands easing their grip on his sides. Satoru's hands slid down to your hips, raising himself to his knees and looking down to where you were still connected. 

A low gulp bobbing in his throat, knowing he would have to pull out eventually; And dreading it. Thinking of a million ways to keep you filled and plugged with his future offspring. 

And as you finally could steady your breathing, Gojo yanked you down from the arm of the couch. Back landing flush against the cushions with a soft grunt. Looking at him, all but asking what he was doing. 

Till Satoru pulled himself out of you, hoisting your hips up from the couch with two strong hands. “Sator-” you tried saying, only for his arms to hug the crease of your thighs, bending you in half with your legs flailing in the air. 

All the pressure was placed onto your shoulders as Satoru latched his mouth onto your messied clit. Keeping his eyes parted and watching your expression churn. Placing a hand onto his forearm- bracing as he greedily lapped at your neglected clit. 

Mentally- this was to give his seed a better chance of taking. Hips in the air- all of the cum he had just pumped into you had nowhere else to go but deeper inside of you. And to also get a taste of you- even if remnants of his cum mixed with it. Satoru didn’t care, as long as he got to taste you. 

Huffing out all the air you could, puffs laced with moans. Your hands gripping harshly onto Gojo's forearm, leaving minor crescent-shaped marks on his skin from your nails. 

Basically folded in half, your hips started writhing in his grasp- overstimulation creeping up your spine from his vigorous tongue. 

Spasming in his hands- trying to warm you were close, but it only came out as more ragged whimpers. Clenching your teeth with your eyes shut tight- unable to see the starved expression looking at you as Gojo unraveled you. 

And once Gojo felt your clit tremble between his lips- he knew it was too soon to let you back down; he needed to keep your hips aimed up as long as he could. 

Satoru watched your bottom lip tremble as he continued the movement with his tongue. Your hips trying to shimmy from his grasp- but he held you up with two strong arms that had a mission. 

Abusing your overwhelmed clit as your eyes screwed together tighter- white spots infiltrating your closed vision with desperate moans. The top of your head bumped into the arm of the couch as he pushed you into a firmer bend. 

Your entrance squelched against his chin as he pulled another orgasm from you- more ragged whimpers littered with his name falling from your lips. 

You huffed- feeling his mouth go unbothered from the third orgasm he had given you. “Please ‘toru-” you whimpered, cracking your eyes open and looking at the crazed man holding your hips. Satoru pulled his lips from your cunt- looking at you with a smile. 

Half his face soiled with your arousal and a glimmer of his seed on his chin. “Just one more-” he egged on, looking at you with dazed eyes. “Jus’onemor-” he cut himself off by placing his lips back onto your clit. 

You only sighed a whimper, allowing him to get his fill. 

Satoru lapped at your puffy clit, his eyebrows pinching together as his cock sent signals to his mind- the same signals that he was close to an orgasm. Untouched and so close just from pleasing you- from hearing your pretty sounds. 

Gojo started to whimper lightly- whimpers that vibrated against your cunt and caused your moans to slur into higher-pitched puffs of air- trying to pull through another orgasm. Taking your lip between your teeth with harshly pinched eyebrows, puffing through your nose with muffled whines. 

He closed his eyes- feeling the knot formed in his tummy snap as your knuckles turned a lighter shade, just from how hard you clawed at his forearm. Feeling a warm spurt onto your bent spine as you tried to focus on cumming. 

It took very little time for Satoru to gift you a fourth orgasm, a small tear falling from your closed eye as you aimlessly shifted in his grasp. 

Satoru sloppily licked at your cunt- cleaning up the mess on your clit with a softer tongue, parting his eyes and looking at your expression. Slowly easing his grasp on your hips as he unfolded you, placing one last kiss onto your cunt, earning a spasm from your hips. 

He eased your hips back down onto the couch, watching your fucked out expression breathe in as much air as you could- trying to catch your breath. 

Uncaring if the mess he spurt onto your back messied the couch- you always complained about how ugly it was anyway. 

He lazily laid himself atop you- placing the side of his face on your collarbone as your hands rested on his shoulders, rubbing small circles on his skin. Grunting softly from how easily he laid his entire body weight on yours. 

You parted your eyes, trying to blink away the post-orgasm haze. Even if you had showered a few hours ago- Satoru’s bath offer sounded like heaven. 

It seemed to take no longer than a few slow blinks. Easing into the clawfoot bathtub Satoru chose specifically for times like these when he bought the house. 

Sighing softly as his arms held you close, his palm gently sprawled against your lower belly and your back pressed to his chest. Avoiding the conversation that needed to be spoken about.

Knowing it would never be spoken if you shoved it off, jettisoned aside to be talked about later. 

“Satoru?” you hummed, placing the back of your head onto his chest. 

He sighed, closing his eyes and nodding his head 'no'. “I don’t wanna talk about that right now.” he huffed, feeling your hand clasp his beneath the water. Interlocking your fingers with his and closing your eyes. 

“If we don’t talk about it now, we never will.” 

Satoru smiled. “Then let’s never talk about it~” he scoffed. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to make sense of the meaningless words he babbled into your ear earlier. “You really wanna marry me again?” you asked- unsure if they were just words he mindlessly spouted at the moment- or if they had any meaning. 

He scoffed, “What kind of question is that?” 

Inhaling as though you were about to speak- “Course I wanna marry you again,” he hummed. Rubbing your belly softly, “nd make you a mom again.” 

Pulling his hand from your tummy with a scoff, causing small ripples in the water. “Be serious.”

“You have no idea how serious I’m being right now.”

Your lips pulled to the side, mulling over his proclamation. 

“You still love me?” he asked, looking down at the side of your face. 

Turning your neck slightly, you peered your eyes up at him with sincerity filling them. Furrowing your eyebrows, you tried not to admit it, but-  “Of course I still love you, ‘toru.” You mumbled. Heartfelt words that rang true in your heart. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.”

“Then marry me.” he whirred, watching your hand pull his left one up from the water. Your eyes admiring the wedding band he hadn’t taken off. 

You stayed silent, holding his ringed hand in yours. Satoru would be lying if he said seeing your ring finger empty didn't hurt. 

Your silence gave Gojo his answer, “Why not?” he whispered, hearing a ragged sigh from your lips. “I still love you- you. You still love me-”

“M’scared.” you mumbled. Feeling your shoulders tense against his chest with a small ripple in the water. 

Satoru let out a half-laugh from his chest. “Of what? I’ve been good, haven’t I?” he grinned, his playful tone invading your ears. 

“You were good when I was pregnant too.” you quipped, dropping his hand into the water and recalling the days he started slipping through your grasp. 

You sniffled lightly, “nd look what happened.”

Satoru bit his tongue. Knowing if he started defending his baseless actions, this would end up being a fight. 

“I spent so long wondering if it was me- if I was the problem.” you scoffed. “I don’t want to let you back in just for the same thing to happen.” 

Satoru pulled you closer with a sigh, “It won’t happen again.” he whispered into your ear, “I promise.” 

You huffed air from your nose, making Satoru think you didn’t believe him. “I’ll even write it into my vows this time.”

A small laugh left your lips, “You won’t miss single life too much?” you played, feeling his head rest against yours. 

“Not once have I felt single since you signed those papers.” he grinned. 

You pondered his offer, pretending to actually consider the option before you. 

Satoru softly kissed your ear, “C’mon- I’ll be such a good husband~” he whispered. 

It wasn’t as though you ever really felt single either- That one year spent apart was still full of love and a marital dynamic. 

The rest of the night was spent in the same bed Satoru built after you moved into the house, cuddled up just the way you had longed for since he moved out. 

The following day, Satoru couldn’t wait for his son to fully wake up- he walked into the hazy child's bedroom and asked if he wanted a little brother or sister. 

All smiles and beaming eyes in the kitchen- telling his son that his plan worked. He made you fall in love with him, and he was finally your husband again.

And as you watched your husband and your son giggle with each other in the kitchen, you smiled. Warm cheeks from the thought that Satoru actually thought you stopped loving him at some point.

But then again, you never really fell out of love, did you?

-

I loved writing this sm.

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[assassinsblade]

Forget Me Not | 7

You and Azriel begin again.

WC: 5.1k

Warnings: References to past SA, finally some fluff, smut, p in v, dirty talk, oral, really just some lovey dirty scenes

a/n: This is it, we've reached the end of Forget Me Not! Thank you to everyone for supporting my first ACOTAR work on here. I'm currently writing another Az oneshot right now, so stay tuned if you liked my writing :)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

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Entering Azriel's bedroom felt different this time around. You had grown so accustomed to his absence in the past week that the feeling of him behind you sent shivers down your spine.

The room went from being cold and empty to warm and stifling. Your nerves were giddy under your skin, jumping with insecurity and excitement as the shadowsinger guided you to the middle of the space.

"It smells like you in here," he commented, voice soft and amused.

You tried not to feel embarrassed. "I missed you. I'm sorry if it was inappropriate or rude to intrude on your space. It helped me to be in here."

Azriel turned you around to face him, pulling you closer once more. His fingertips brushed the skin of your face lightly, caressing your chin between his thumb and forefinger before his eyes swept up to meet your own.

"You're my mate," he said gently, and you tracked the way his lips curved around the words. "I want you here. I want this entire space smelling of you in every way possible."

Your breath caught at his words, at the underlying tone and implication. Gods, you wanted to eat him alive. You wanted him to eat you alive.

"Azriel..." you whispered, your lips inching forward toward his own. His eyes dropped down to meet the movement, flicking back up to your own before being drawn to your mouth once again.

"We don't have to do anything tonight."

You knew that. You knew he would wait, would be patient as you navigated your newfound relationship with him and how it intertwined with your trauma. But you also knew that you felt so safe and warm and complete there in his arms, and you knew you wanted him.

"I know. But I want to."

He shuddered, and the hand flexed against your lower back tightened imperceptibly. "Are you sure?"

Looking at the male in front of you, at his kind hazel eyes, his soft pink lips waiting to claim you, his gentle touch so calm and undemanding, you were absolutely sure. You felt that thrum of love flow in your chest, and the reminder that it was going both ways made you melt further into him.

"Yes." You barely got the word out before you brought your lips to his.

He brought you into him gently, his hands summoning you to meet the rest of his body, like a wave rocking you softly in its rhythm until you laid smoothly against the warm shore. You curled into him instinctually, your hands making their way up his chest and onto his skin, feeling and grasping, grabbing at anything they could claim.

He made a small noise into your mouth, as if he couldn't help it, and your knees shook slightly at the reaction. He tasted like how it felt to drink water, and you felt so dehydrated, like you could drown in him and never quite have enough.

You pushed into him harder, but he kept his touch on you light, holding you but not using the strength you could feel in his muscles. Your tongue found the the opening to his mouth, and he let you in seamlessly, letting you guide the kiss, take what you needed.

Mor had always said that Azriel never had issues finding partners. There were rumors about the shadowsinger, about his highly-praised (and well above-average) attributes, his talents in the bedroom, and his wide range of sexual interests. But he wasn't taking that control he was so often associated with. He was allowing you to dominate, to take control, and to do what you wanted to him.

You wondered how often Azriel had given the reigns to someone else in the past, and your heart thumped with appreciation.

Your fingers found his leathers, trying to remove them from his torso as your tongue explored his own. His own scarred hands found your own to help, pulling back slightly to give your bottom lip a nip before pulling the fabric from his body.

You nearly groaned in impatience in the few seconds he was pulled away from you, but then you were able to freely roam his warm skin. He was smooth, and muscled, and scarred, and warm, and you could have licked up his torso if it wasn't for the way he immediately dove back into a kiss, his gentle hands cupping your face and strong forearms framing your neck.

There was more force behind his actions this time, but he kept you in control, allowing you to move the both of you back toward the bed, allowing your own hands to remove your nightgown from your body and letting it drop to the floor.

You pulled him on top of you in his blankets, giving him a kiss before pulling back. His gold green eyes were blazing in the darkness of the bedroom, the starlight shining through the window illuminating the light in them.

"Touch me," you begged him, fingers tangling in his hair.

His biceps cradled where your head laid, and you wanted to turn and kiss up the strong arms, to touch him everywhere you could. But you needed his hands on you, his mouth, his entire body.

"You don't need to beg. I'll do anything you want."

And then his lips were trailing along your jaw, skimming and nipping down your neck, sending your chin tipping back to give him more access. His tongue soothed where his teeth nipped, and his breath tickled your skin in all of the right, sensitive places.

Chills went down your spine as he moved lower, worshipping the skin over your collarbone, down your sternum, until he reached your breasts. His eyes met yours through dark lashes, and you nearly jerked your core up to meet his hips at the look he gave you.

Then his tongue was wrapping around your nipple, and you gasped. He teased and flicked and sucked and grasped, and you were writhing, gripping his hair and sucking in harsh breaths.

You had never felt so sensitive, so willing to unravel for a male before.

His free hand was stroking the rest of your skin lightly, his fingertips just barely meeting your body in teasing motions, sending goosebumps to the surface to meet him. By the time that hand skimmed over your other breast, you were ready to start begging again.

But Azriel was perceptive -- when it came to his surroundings and especially when it came to you -- so he didn't make you wait long nor beg. He changed his direction immediately to your other breast, allowing the cool air to tease the one he had worked while giving equal attention to the next.

You were becoming greedy yourself, your fingers skimming down his muscled back, searching for any part of him you could touch. His broad shoulders enveloped your form underneath him, and you loved it, loved him, loved feeling shielded by him. His dark wings were drawn tight along his back, as if he was focused on you and only you, not allowing any part of himself to relax or benefit quite yet. You wanted to touch them, make him lose his resolve-

His mouth moved lower, traveling along your stomach until he reached the band of your underwear, mouthing along the edge. His large fingers dwarfed the elastic, and your eyes nearly rolled back at the sight. But you couldn't do anything but nod when he looked to you for permission.

He gave your lower stomach one last kiss before pulling the underwear down your legs, his fingers trailing after the fabric as if he were tracing a painting, a piece of artwork he would need to commit to memory.

His lips kissed up your ankle, up your thigh, before landing on your hipbone, your leg resting over his shoulder lightly.

Then his hot breath met your core and your head was tilting back, the anticipation causing your body to shudder and your hips to buck. His strong forearm came down on your hips in response, holding you to the bed before placing his mouth on you.

And gods, did he feel good.

From the moment his tongue lightly traced up your core, you knew that he knew what he was doing.

He didn't dive into you haphazardly, not rough nor starved-- he moved with precision, teasing and flicking, and making you ache and ache and ache.

His free hand gripped the inside of one of your thighs, pushing your leg open slightly to give him more access. And when he moaned at the taste of you, you couldn't help but let out a small cry in response.

"I'd be the happiest male if I could spend the rest of my life between your legs."

He sounded absolutely devastated.

He kissed along your inner thighs once more, one finger stroking up you before circling your clit and moving back down again. Your breathing was heavy with his actions, trying to monitor where he was going, what he was doing, how he was pulling on every nerve ending in your body.

Then his middle finger was easing its way into your entrance, and you were gasping, back arching from the bed.

Your hands gripped the covers as his mouth found your clit again, the dual sensation nearly taking you to your release already. His finger moved inside of you, not necessarily searching but instead attempting to stretch you for him, get you ready if you were to move forward to anything more tonight. The thought nearly made you feral.

"Please-" you choked out. You didn't know what you were begging for, what you were trying to say, but you just needed more of him. All you would ever need for the rest of your life was him.

Another finger prodded at your entrance, and then he was stretching you further, his thick fingers moving and curling inside of you until you saw stars. It was as if the roof to the House of Wind had blown off and you could see the skies above you, Azriel's siphons gleaming behind your eyelids.

He didn't give as he guided you higher, fingers and tongue moving together with a rhythm you would worship him over later. The noises coming from you, the gasping, the whimpering, would have been embarrassing if you could have even heard any of it over the ringing in your ears, over the pure pleasure coursing through your veins.

When you tipped over the edge, Azriel kept himself attached to you, his one arm keeping you in place as you shook against the bed, your fingers gripping his hair and your eyes squeezing shut with the overwhelming pleasure.

It wasn't until your grip loosened on him that he pulled back, drawing his fingers from your core and bringing them up to his mouth. You could barely see him through the haze going through your mind, and the fact that he hadn't done the action as a display for you, but because he wanted to, felt the need to, had you nearly cumming again.

You attempted to catch your breath as he stood from his position, the strain at the front of his leathers nearly making your mouth water. You wanted more, needed more, needed your mate -- all of him.

Your limbs shook with exertion as you pulled yourself to your knees on the bed, reaching for his waistband. His hands caught your wrists, however, bringing them back down to your sides as he leaned down and placed a surprisingly heartfelt kiss on your forehead.

"Another time," he told you. "I just want you right now."

And you were not about to refuse him that.

You let him guide you back down onto the pillows, his hand ensuring one was under your head before letting you go and moving to remove his pants. The sight that greeted you was otherworldly.

You had heard rumors. But he was unreal.

And his slight smirk and posturing said he knew it.

You smiled at him before you could help it, gesturing for him to return to you. He was back on top of you before you could blink, and his mouth was on yours. You could feel as some of the control he always seemed to need took over for him, allowing him to curl his tongue against your own, to bite at your bottom lip, to grip your body just a little harder against his own.

"What do you want, sweetheart?" His voice was gravelly in your ear, and you preened against him, pressing your breasts against his chest.

"You, please, I want all of you. I've always wanted you."

He could have teased you for how desperate you sounded, the breathiness of your voice, the way you lifted your hips to meet his, to try to draw him in. But he didn't. Instead, he pulled his lips away from your own, allowing them to just barely brush before declaring his love for you.

He swallowed harshly before speaking the words again. "I love you."

You nodded, feeling emotions building in your chest, feeling that golden tie blazing bright. "I love you, Azriel."

And in that moment, not even yet physically connected, you knew you and him could get through anything together. You were willing to die for the male above you and he for you. While the past could not be ignored, your future together held hope and promise, and you would latch onto that with everything you had, gripping that golden thread with a vengeance.

"Show me," you told him, your eyes watering despite yourself.

And then his lips were on yours again, and the passion behind the kiss sent your head reeling. You felt the head of him press against you before a slight stretch stung between your legs. You gasped into his mouth at the feeling, at the weight of him moving inside of you, and he welcomed your reaction, peppering kisses over your cheeks as you adjusted.

He was large, but you loved it. Loved every inch of him inside of you. Loved the feeling of him filling you physically and emotionally, the golden thread growing brighter and brighter the further he entered you, the more he filled and touched every part of you.

And the feeling seemed to make its way through your entire body, fire lighting in your soul, igniting pleasure in your core that shot to your fingertips and toes.

You moaned when he finally seated himself all the way inside you, his hands coming up to cup your face and make sure you were okay. You couldn’t help the tears rolling silently down your cheeks, the overwhelming emotion that was building inside of you. You had loved this male for so long, and here he was, connected to you on a whole other level, loving you, and you could feel it coming from deep in his soul.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly, kissing at your temple.

“Yes. I’m just happy.”

He swallowed hard at your words and soft smile, kissing you again before slowly pulling out of you and making his way back in. The movement sent sparks floating in your vision, and his answering grunt was enough to have you grasping at his shoulders.

His hands found your own, pulling them from around him and instead intertwining your fingers together with his, laying them gently by your head as he encased your body with his own. His wings spread above you two like a blanket, like the dark of night and his comforting shadows, and you held tightly onto him.

“I love you,” he told you again, as if he had been trying to hold the words back.

“My mate.” You smiled at him, and his pace picked up. His thrusts went from being slow and sensual to passionate and hard, and you brought your mouth to his shoulder to try to cover the loud noise that escaped you at the pleasure of him.

“You’re so perfect. Everything about you is absolutely unbelievable.”

But what you were feeling was even more so. Every inch of him, every rigid muscle, every texture of smooth and scarred skin, made you want to hold onto him and never let go. A bliss unlike any other followed each of his strokes into you, filling you with love and passion and sending blood rushing to your core.

You were absolutely drenched, his hips moving so easily in and out of the bracket of your legs, that you would have been embarrassed if not for the noises of pure male satisfaction coming from Azriel.

He was enjoying you as much as you were enjoying him, and the thought sent a wave of pride through you.

His thick length continued to spread you open with each thrust, and you don’t think you’d ever felt so satisfied and full. He was touching every part inside of you, from your entrance to your cervix to the bond singing in your chest, he was pushed up against your walls and throbbing.

You cried out as he repeatedly hit that spot inside of you, and one of his hands immediately broke from your own and came down to the peak of your thighs, fingers finding the bud and rubbing and circling until your toes were curling-

“I-I can’t…” you gasped out.

“I’ve got you,” Azriel cooed. “Let me see my mate fall apart. Let me take care of you.”

And you knew he would. He held you tightly, protectively covering you with his own body, his other arm looping around your waist to pull your hips closer to his own.

Then you were rising and falling, clenching so tightly around him you thought you might be causing him pain. But all you could focus on was the bliss shooting through your body, the shaking of your limbs, the white blinding your vision, and the gold gleaming in your chest.

By the Cauldron, you were trembling, your entire body overcome with pleasure, and Azriel guided you through it, speaking sweet words in your hair, hand still moving, hips still pumping.

“Gods, you feel so good,” he grunted out. “My perfect mate. My everything.”

Your mind was ringing with the aftershocks of your orgasm, your body relaxed and tingling and high up in the clouds. But you savored the moment still, your fingers brushing over the muscles in Azriel’s shoulders, feeling them move and tense under your touch, the obvious strength under his skin causing you to clench around him.

He cursed, spreading your legs further for him and dropping his forehead to rest against your own.

“Where do you want me?”

Everywhere. You wanted him inside you forever, you wanted him buried as far as he could go.

“Inside me. Please.”

His eyes squeezed shut at your words, a guttural moan leaving his throat. You already were imagining how the male above you would look completely unleashed, allowing his kinks and obsession with control to ravish you in the bedroom. Next time, you told yourself, you would break that leash he held on himself, and you would let him completely and utterly tear you to shreds.

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

His rough tone had you bucking your hips to meet his, and then his hands were gripping your hips hard, his fingertips digging into the skin, holding you still and tight until it ached and bruised and you were keening into him.

Heat swelled inside of you as he emptied himself, and you let out a moan of your own at the feeling, both of your satisfied noises melding together to create a sound you would commit to memory.

He was panting and grunting and you could feel your wetness mixing with Azriel’s spend as it leaked its way out from inside of you and around your thighs. He pulsed and pulsed and you couldn’t help your body’s own reaction at the sensation as you clenched in return.

It was overwhelming and otherworldly and you would never get enough of it.

When he was finished, he nearly collapsed above you, catching himself with his strong hands, his hair falling into his eyes. He looked so beautiful. So relaxed and undone and glowing.

You loved him so incredibly much.

He didn’t remove himself from your body, only looked at you as if he couldn’t really believe you were there, that this wasn’t a dream.

You pushed yourself up slightly, lightly pressing a gentle kiss to his sharp jaw. He sighed at the action, closing his eyes and savoring it, and you immediately wanted to do it again.

He swallowed before meeting your eyes again. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You grasped him tighter. “Stay.”

He chuckled, and the unguarded, light sound had a smile breaking onto your face in return.

“We have all night together,” he reassured. “Let me do this right.”

His thumb stroked over your cheek, and you wanted to smile, to cry, to kiss him. But you let him do what he needed to feel like a good mate and caretaker. He planted one last soft kiss to your lips before gently removing himself from you. You inhaled sharply at the absence of him and at the feeling of his seed leaking from you, already missing the way he felt.

He glanced down to watch as he dripped down your core and thighs, eyes gleaming at the sight. He was then ripping himself away, as if watching any longer would prevent him from moving from your side, would cause him to dive down face-first into you once again.

You watched him walk to his bathroom, his muscular backside a sight against the moonlight shining in his room. You wanted to run after him, to tackle him to the bathroom floor and ride him again right there.

You controlled yourself, though, and waited for his return. He was gentle as he cleaned you up with a washcloth, covering you with a shirt of his own and placing a glass of water on his bedside table.

Once he joined you under the covers, you turned to face him, hand reaching out for him on instinct, and he welcomed the movement immediately. His arms pulled you close, and the connection felt so natural, as if the two of you had never not been in the others’ arms.

His wings, now relaxed with contentment, circled around the two of you, causing you to move closer to him.

“Rest,” he said finally, voice thick with exhaustion. “We can talk more in the morning.”

You nodded, tracing your fingers down his chest.

“You’ll be here?”

His bright eyes met your own, and your heart clenched as he repeated those words he had said months ago in your bedroom, when you hadn’t believed him for a second, when your body was the exact opposite as it was now, turned away from him and guarded.

“I’m not leaving,” he spoke softly. “Never again.”

And you believed him.

—————————

It was the best night of sleep you had gotten in awhile. You had never felt so safe and comforted than surrounded by Azriel, by his arms, his wings, his covers, and in his room. Everything that was him was all around you, and you basked in it.

When you both had awoken, the shadowsinger watched as you dressed with his heart in his eyes, and you gestured for him to do the same so the two of you could get some food and start your day.

What you hadn’t prepared for, was Cassian and Rhys sitting in the kitchen with smirks on their faces.

“Good morning,” Rhysand commented, his lips shaped into a shit-eating grin as he brought his mug to his mouth.

“Rhys,” Azriel greeted, his voice holding a low tone of warning.

Cassian looked over his shoulder at the two of you from where he was making his breakfast, scrunching his nose as if pretending to smell what you had been up to.

“You know,” he said nonchalantly, “I was right this whole time. I called you two being mates months ago.”

“Technically, Feyre guessed correctly first.” Rhys interrupted.

“We get it.” Azriel moved closer to Cassian’s side, snagging a piece of bacon from his plate. “I was an idiot.”

Rhys gave you a wink at Azriel’s words and you nearly blushed.

“Not anymore, it seems.”

Azriel gave the high lord a look, and Rhysand let out a laugh. “Alright, alright. Just come see me when you have a minute. We have to go over a few things with the Illyrian camps.”

Azriel nodded at his friend and the two shared a heartfelt look between them. You had always admired the trio’s friendship, the way they would lay their lives on the line for one another without question.

“Seriously though, I am happy for you both,” Rhys said, to which Cassian turned around and gave you a look of agreement. “But if either of you are idiots again, I’m kicking you out of Velaris.”

That sounded about right.

“Alright, out.” Azriel demanded, pushing his brothers out of the kitchen.

They bickered back and forth with one another to the door, and you couldn't help the smile that fought its way onto your face. This was your family, your friends, and your mate. This was your home.

When Azriel was back in the kitchen, he sighed at their antics, but you could tell he was endeared with his brothers.

He gave you a kiss on the top of your head before moving to the cabinets, pulling out some ingredients to make you breakfast. The sight of your mate cooking for you reminded you of the bond in your chest, the expectation there.

You two were mates, that much was obvious. You felt the golden presence in your chest, you could feel your partner within you should he allow it, but you hadn't technically accepted it yet -- accepted him yet.

And despite how much you loved him, you weren't ready to.

As if sensing the shift in your comfort, Azriel turned to look at you.

"You okay?" He asked, fingers setting the pieces of bread he had gotten out on the counter.

"Yeah, just thinking," you tried to give him a small smile.

"What about?"

His full attention was on you, and your nerves tingled under the weight of his gaze. You both were moving forward, and you didn't want to mess this up, didn't want to make you both take steps backward in your progress, but you also didn't want to be stupid. So much had happened in the past few months, and you wanted to be smart, confident, and sure in each of your decisions. You had so much taken away from you recently, you wanted for once to be able to plan and experience and allow for some natural growth.

"What if I told you I wanted to wait to accept the mating bond?"

Azriel's eyes softened, and you couldn't help the pang of guilt that shot through your chest at the thought of your words hurting him, making him doubt himself and how you felt about him.

"I'll wait however long you need," he told you, voice resolute.

"I want to be your mate. I am your mate," you clarified. "I just think we should give ourselves some time before a ceremony or something. We can go on dates, court a little bit, and I'd like to get to the point where I feel comfortable with us around Elain."

He flinched slightly at her name, at the reminder of what he had done to you, how he had been so focused on the middle-Archeron sister, she had smothered his thoughts of you.

The feelings made their way down the bond, and you knew this was another thing that would take some time. The two of you may be dealing with the repercussions of the past few months for a while, but time would help, and you both were ready to move forward with one another.

"It's okay," you told him gently.

He nodded, giving you a soft doubtful smile, but still he moved to your side and tilted your head up, pulling your lips to his own.

"I love you," he reminded you.

"And I, you."

His lips brushed against your own again, and you leaned in further, wanting to connect yourself further. He pulled back.

"When you want to accept the bond, I will give you whatever you want. A private ceremony, a party celebrated throughout all of Velaris, you name it. You just let me know when."

And you would. In the meantime, the two of you would go on dates, would talk more about your pasts and histories, would go back to sharing your interests and visiting that pastry shop you loved so much.

Azriel would make you feel wanted and loved, and you would make him feel like the kind-hearted hero he was. The two of you would hang around the rest of the inner circle side-by-side. Even when Elain was present and Azriel's guilt thudded through the bond, you would move forward. You felt nothing toward her on his end but regret, and you felt the love being pushed through the bond toward you instead.

It would take time and commitment, but you were ready with him by your side. And he reminded you every day that he was not leaving. The two of you were a package deal now -- hand-in-hand, together.

And a year later, when Azriel walked through the doors of the House of Wind to find you in the kitchen, slaving away at a recipe you had spoken of multiple times, nerves thrumming down the bond and your rosy cheeks showing your flustered state, his heart thumped in his chest.

You gave him a soft smile, your hair messy with your efforts, and your outfit messed up from cooking. And he was so in love.

A bowl placed on the dining table, a candle lit, and a glass of wine poured.

Tears filled his eyes, because he never thought he would deserve this. Not a year ago, and not now.

But you only smiled at him, nodding with encouragement.

And then his tears were falling, his shadows swarming over you until you released contagious giggles, and he was scarfing down the food like a man starved for weeks.

If someone had told Azriel a year ago, that in the very same spot he nearly dropped to his knees at the opportunity to make the broken girl in front of him a mug of tea, he would be granted the blessing of her mating bond, he wouldn't have believed it.

But as the golden thread in his chest pulsed and shined and glimmered with love and renewed strength, he cried.

I'm yours, it spoke to him. And you are mine.

And forever will we be tied together.

#acotar x reader #azriel angst #azriel smut #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar fic

[spilledkaleidoscope]

Activation Energy and Executive Dysfunction

A bunch of people (with executive dysfunction I assume) reacted a little disheartened to how I described the phenomenon.

The gist is that I used activation energy, a concept from chemistry, as a model for how executive dysfunction can keep you from doing things. Activation energy is the minimal energy that has to be available for any chemical reaction to occur and that amount is specific to every reaction.

Executive Dysfunction to me means, that this activation energy is always high, even for tasks other people experience as spontaneous reaction (yes the amount of ae and spontaneity of a reaction are not connected necessarily but bear with me here). A good example is showering or feeding yourself or sometimes getting up from the couch.

The tricky thing here is that the energy put into trying to reach activation energy is still *expended*, so while it might seem like nothing happens, you still get drained, making it harder to reach activation energy levels.

So what can we do?

In synthesis, if your activation energy is too high you basically can do two things: you either add a catalyst, or you find a different way to get to your result altogether.

The latter can be choosing a simpler recipe to feed yourself, graze on random items without making a meal until you are full or ordering food for example.

This is not always possible, but it *is* worth thinking about. An example from my life would be that I open my mail outside at the trash bins and immediately discard what I don't need because otherwise, I have paperstuff flying around my appartment that I don't get rid of.

"Weird" is not something that should factor in here. Make it functional and helpful.

The catalyst is my favourite solution however, and I can give you some tips here that you can *immediately* use. I won't know if they work for you, but they do for me (sometimes! be kind to yourself).

CATALYSTS AGAINST EXECUTIVE DYSFUNCTION

Have your tasks broken down: when you have energy, make sure that the thing on your to do list is something you can *actually* physically immediately do. Don't write "make reservation", but "call restaurant" along with the number. Not "clean kitchen" but "move dishes to sink" etc

Doorway Effect: The Doorway effect describes that silly thing that, when we cross a boundary, we sometimes feel like we've been soft reset ("what was I going to do?"). A hypothesis for why this happens can be that it helps our brain create separate contexts which then aids memory creation. What it can do for you is that it is an easy way to change context, which then frees you up to start something new more easily. Try it! Physically go through a doorway or open a different window on the computer, sometimes that is enough.

Costuming: Similar to the Doorway Effect, we are changing context in a low effort way here. Concentrate on putting on your shoes instead of taking out the trash or put on some rubber gloves if you plan on cleaning. Might be enough. Sometimes putting on mascara is enough for me to go "oh I am out of couch potato mode now"

Move! Put yourself where you need to be to tackle your task. That can already help.

Pressure: This can be done by setting a timer that will go off soon. Challenge yourself to get up and go before it rings - might stress you into inaction sometimes, but it can be helpful. I love visual timers for this as it helps with my time blindness

Prepare! If you are in a state of flow and have energy to spare *use it*. This includes breaking down your task as already described but also preparing your space - this can be a cleaned up desk or a caddy with cleaning supplies in a prominent spot.

And my absolute favorite: Throw a dice. When it is really bad, one thing I can always do is throw a dice (via an app, typing "d20" into the search bar or physically having one on me - which I usually do now). I tell myself that if I "make the roll" I get up and do it and if I don't, I try again in 20 minutes. This changes context easily, removes responsibility from me and makes the whole thing playful. I usually go with a d20 and tell myself to get going with a result over 10. If I have a particularly bad day I might need 15+ to do something. Just try it.

In short, what we are trying to do is

minimize friction by frontloading as much thinking and preparing as we can

make a context change as easy and small as possible

And remember: the goal is never to Always Be Doing Something.

#ADHD talk

[dcxdpdabbles]

Cave boy Danny. What if he offhandedly mentions his parents being THERE (as in not dead) and being Doctors (not the same kind of doctors Bruce's parents are) and things like that and doesn't realize that the batfam starts thinking that this? This is what's different with this Bruce. He didn't lose his parents and thus does not grow up wanting vengeance, and his parents are similar in personalities but in a different field!

Now Danny is still as casual young Bruce as ever but the others are just freeking out around him.

Things are strange for a while. Danny knows that his actions have caused the Waynes to be....wary around him. Even Jason- who honestly threw a whole ass parade for Gotham in celebration of Joker's death- seemed to be tense around him.

Danny can't really say he blames them. He still doesn't know why Phantom reacted the way it did- a bit alarming. His ghost side marked Joker as a threat from the moment it laid eyes on him- a threat that could not and would not be reasoned with.

His ghost -half attacked, knowing that Joker's existence threatened his core. A core that was created from the desire to keep his friends safe at the moment of his death. (He had known he would die the moment the portal's electricity hit him- and Danny had not been mournful of his end but rather horrified that Tucker or Sam could have followed him to the afterlife. His last thought as a human was Please let me live long enough to keep them safe.)

Never has that happened before- not even when faced with Vlad or Dan. It was strange to watch Phantom attack and not be in equal amounts of control within his body.

Phantom has always felt a part of him but also not. Danny had once tried to explain it to Jaz, only to end up frustrated when she tried to paint Phantom as a different personality that shared the mind-space with Danny.

Danny knows Phantom isn't like that.

He's not another person- Phantom is Danny in the same sense that Danny is alive but dead. For the same reason, Danny is the flipped color scheme of Phantom. They are one, just viewed differently.

Or maybe they saw the world differently?

It's hard to say and even harder to put into words.

The closest Danny could come to explain was an example Tucker gave him. Someone is the same but acts ultimately differently online, even when they aren't trying to catfish someone.

It's the fact they are behind a screen that gives them just the extra amount of courage. Tuck had said.

Ancients, he misses Tuck. His ship is not ready to venture into his Ghost Zone- hell, if Danny is honest, it's barely able to move. He is trying his best to get it working, but it's slow going. Too slow, even with Wayne's generosity.

"Master Brucie," Alfred started, pausing just within the doorframe of Danny's room until invited in. He does that now, keeping to his manners as though Danny was a guest of the Waynes. Not someone who he can be so familiar with.

It stings to know his killing had lost him the right to be treated as a stranger when Alfred had always treated him as young Bruce Wayne the moment he was found.

"Yes?" He asks, trying to smile. It falls flat, but it's worth the effort.

Alfred's face stays impassive, and Danny tries to tell himself that he doesn't care. He's not a young Bruce Wayne. He wants nothing to do with the Wyanes'.

"There are more gifts for you." The bulter says. "Shall I bring them to your room?"

Danny has received a lot of fan mail since his actions were leaked to the public. Everyone knew that Joker was taken out by Danny Kane. And there wasn't a single person in Gotham who hadn't been hurt or known someone injured by the madman.

He is being praised as a hero.

For murder.

Danny can't find it in himself to feel guilty about it. Joker needed to die. He had too many chances to change, and too many people got hurt.

"That's okay. I'll go downstairs and look through them. I feel like watching a movie anyway." He shrugs his shoulders while strolling to the door in his lazy stride.

Alfred steps out of his way, bowing ever so slightly. "Very good sir."

Sir.

That stings.

Danny doesn't bring it up or mention that Alfred keeps a safe space between them. Not enough that it would be rude, but definitely one of a servant following a master instead of a man who thought him the younger version of his son.

When they arrive at the room, he is surprised to find a white shipping cart filled to the brim with packages and letters waiting for him. Standing beside the cart, flipping through the envelopes, is Tim.

He has yet to see much of Tim. Not since Danny proved his doubts weren't as unfound as Danny actively tried to convince the other teen of.

No time like the present.

"Hey, Tim." He calls just to mentally get the other prepared for his approach. As expected, Tim whips around with a narrow eye-ed glare that does nothing to hide his distaste for Danny. Alfred follows them into the room but stays by the door at an appropriate distance. "Anything good?"

"Good, how?" Tim bites, and Danny fights to not roll his eyes.

"I don't know. Maybe a letter from my mom saying I'm a good boy or another football from dad-"

"I beg your pardon?" Alfred cuts him off- which, okay, that's never happened before. The butler has never overstepped his position- even when they thought him harmless little Brucie- to talk over him.

Danny turns to find the man pasty white, looking both cautiously overjoyed and wishful. "Did you make a joke about your parents, Master Brucie?"

"Ugh, Yeah? Why?"

"Young sir, are- are your parents alive?"

Danny is floored by the choked-up emotion in that one sentence that all he can do is nod. Tim drops the package he was checking over, his jaw slacked, and staring at Danny like having parents was the answer of the universe.

"Thomas and Martha Wayne are alive in your universe.." Tim all but breaths. "They are alive and have more than one kid."

"Why is that a big deal?" Danny asks, unable to himself. "What happened to Bruce's parents here?"

"Master Thomas was a doctor," Alfred says, ignoring Danny's question. But he now hears the answer in the past tense when referring to Bruce's parents. "Is he still in your world?"

"Yes, and so is my mom." PHD doctors, but they don't need to know that.

"That's why you like this." Tim slumps into the chair closest to him. Danny is mightily alarmed that he seems pale now. "That's why you don't know anything about Batman. He was never inspired. You....you really are a civilian."

Danny will deny that he fleed the room when Tim burst into tears till the day he died. He does not look back even when Alfred yells for his return. He has outstayed his welcome.

He slips into his room, grabs anything not nailed down with any form of technology, and then activates his intangibility. He sinks down down, and down, to the caves. He knows where the Bats work, knows where to go from his nights where he tried to work on ship.

He flies in that direction, knowing he will never see the Waynes again. Not after realizing how much pain his lies have unwillingly caused.

Master Post Link

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #cave boy #part 7 #Tim is sad that Danny is what Bruce could have been #evil or good Bruce always lost his parents #Alfred was also shocked. #Danny is running

[absolute-flaming-trash]

Pairing: Yandere!Alastor x Reader

SFW

Word Count: 2'627

Warnings: Yandere behaviour, Implied forced relationship, Implied captivity, Toxic relationship, Possessiveness, Invasion of personal space, Non-consensual touching.

Additional Notes: Do be kind, I have not written for this man before and find him exceedingly difficult.

Every week at the Hotel, there was something new Charlie had planned.

Trust exercises. Ice breakers. Activities meant to bring everybody closer together as a group. To try and get people to open up and show a side of vulnerability that - she believed - would help sinners take one step closer to salvation.

Most of them were awkward, and a lot of them never went as planned. A fact she realized and, after a near mental breakdown, had her promptly take advice from Vaggie and agree to try something different.

The task was very simple compared to the previous activities. She requested everybody to think about redemption and what it meant to them.

Thinking about the definition itself took little to no effort.

Redemption (noun): The action of saving or being saved from sin, error, or evil.

But it was clear that Charlie wanted more than just a quote from the dictionary. She wanted residents of the Hotel to mull over it while looking deep down into themselves so they could share their stance on the matter later on.

That was the tricky part.

From how you saw it, “saving yourself” from sin was easy enough to accomplish. ‘Just don’t be a dick and avoid the bad shit.’ was the first thought that came to mind, but where you hit a snag was based on what Charlie had shared about Heaven. According to her, even so much as breathing in Hell was enough to solidify your place in the inferno, yet she made it clear that actively resisting sin wasn’t something to go unrecognized.

It took a lot of effort, energy, and courage to do so, and it was hard to disagree even if Heaven didn’t see it that way.

Error was a bit harder. In your opinion, nobody could be saved from that, at least not entirely. Eventually, inevitably, you or someone else would do something wrong, it was just a matter of degree. It could be something as minor as bumping into somebody by accident or as major as Angel relapsing for what felt like the hundredth time, but it would happen and it was only a matter of time.

Charlie did bring up a rather good point, though. Apologizing when you realized you had done something wrong was the best thing someone could do, and it was the first step in the right direction.

You had to give her credit where it was due for that.

But evil was a different matter entirely.

Evil lurked everywhere in Hell. Across every street, around every corner, evil was out in the open for everyone to bear witness and see. None of it was hidden. None of it was meant to be hidden.

What would be the point? You and every other sinner were already in Hell - and many would argue that hiding it would be counterintuitive to being there in the first place.

Charlie tried to plead the case that everyone had good in them. A good that could be tweezed out if given the right chance, and the right environment, which the Hotel was perfect for.

You wish you could agree.

Evil was in the hotel itself, not that Charlie was fully willing to see it.

You believed she was careless there. Little Miss Bleeding Heart wanted to see the best in people, and by god did you ever want to know what it was like to see through such rose-tinted glasses, but you knew you never could. Not in this place.

Stepping a foot into the building was the worst thing you’d ever done because it showed you just how wrong you were about evil being so out in the open. It still had the ability to lurk, something you learned the moment you shook hands with Alastor.

You could see it on his face upon meeting him for the first time - the way Alastor’s perpetual grin widened upon seeing the goosebumps that lined your arms when he clasped your hand in his. No comment was ever made on the matter, but the way his lips peeled back to reveal the black of his gums before he pressed a brief kiss to your knuckles said enough.

Something utterly sinister reeked from him in a manner you couldn’t describe, so you took your own advice and applied the same thing you did when it came to sin.

Avoidance. As much as you could, at least.

Some moments were easier than others. The distinct metallic clack of Alastor’s microphone against the floor combined with a surge of radio static usually bought enough time for you to make whatever excuse you needed in order to leave before he arrived.

Other times you weren’t so lucky, and Charlie’s group meetings were usually to blame in that regard.

At first, you made a great deal of effort to put as much distance between yourself and the Radio Demon as you could, which worked for a time. Unfortunately, Alastor caught onto what you were doing much faster than you would’ve liked.

He reveled in it. You knew he did. After a while you had the gnawing suspicion he was purposefully going out of his way to make you as uncomfortable as possible for his own entertainment. You saw no other reason as to why he’d consistently move so close to you that you could literally feel him breathing down your neck.

Lately, he had adopted the skin-crawling habit of locking eyes with you the moment you stepped foot in the room and patting the seat beside him - reserved specifically for you. Accepting the gesture felt like swallowing nails, but being openly rude to Alastor was something that you knew better than to do.

Instead, you began to find excuses for skipping the meetings entirely and have Angel or Husker fill you in later, which was exactly what you were doing now.

“To be honest I wasn’t payin’ much attention,” Angel said while he scrolled through his phone, resting his chin in his upper left hand while his lower right swirled alcohol around in a glass. “Was the kind of thing that could’ve been sent in an email.”

You traced your finger around the rim of your own glass, its contents untouched. “Still, I want to know what I missed.”

“He’s right, it wasn’t anything special,” Husker replied, slinging a cloth over his shoulder from behind the bar. “Same old bullshit about salvation with a new coat of paint on top.”

A pang went through your chest, but you pushed it down. “So nothing new?”

Angel scoffed and looked up from his phone. “Trust me, dollface, you did yourself a favor.” He downed the rest of his drink in one go. “What were you doing anyways?”

“You know…” You replied with a shrug, glancing down. “I went out.”

Angel smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Out?”

“Yeah.” You tapped your nails against the edge of the glass. “Things were feeling a little claustrophobic, so I went out for some air.”

Husker made a noise in the back of his throat. “Yeah, I know how you feel, kid. This place is a mess.”

Angel tilted his head, placing his phone down on the bar and leaning forward a bit. “So where’d you go? Anywhere fun?”

“Where indeed~.”

All your movements went rigid. After a few seconds, you slowly turned your head to look over your shoulder to see Alastor standing barely a foot away from you, staring down at you with a tight, closed-lipped smile. You hadn’t heard him coming in the slightest, which you immediately could tell was intentional.

Whether he’d used his shadow or had actually stalked up behind you wasn’t something you wanted to think about, and if Angel or Husker picked up on the immediate tension, neither of them said anything about it.

“Hey, Smiles.” Angel greeted with his usual flirtation, placing the elbows of his upper arms on the bartop as he turned to face Alastor. “Fancy a drink? You look a little stiff” He gave Alastor a very long once over, “and I’ll have you know I know a few ways I can help relieve some… tension.” 

Alastor’s lips curled back to reveal his teeth, the muscle in his cheek spasming for a moment.

Mentally you were kissing Angel on the cheek for the save as you slowly picked your coat up off the bar and slipped it on, concealing the goosebumps already present on your skin. Husker gave you a glance from the side and gave a very slight shake of his head, silently advising you against your unspoken desire to leave.

“I assure you, such a thing is never going to happen.~”

“You sure?” Angel rested his lower right arm on his hip. “I have a few tricks that can loosen you up.”

The leather in Alastor’s gloves audibly squeaked as his grip tightened around the staff of his microphone and his attention immediately shifted back to you, ignoring Angel entirely.

“My dear,” His voice dripped with such a saccharine sweetness it made you feel sick, “Could I speak with you for a moment?”

Fewer combinations of words could instill such a unique feeling of encroaching dread all at once, but you refused to let it show as you nodded and turned your body on the bar stool to face him fully; waiting for him to say the first word.

His eye twitched ever so slightly.

“Privately.”

That made you swallow.

“Sure.” You slid off the bar stool, doing your best not to appear as reluctant as you felt.

“Lovely.~” He said, promptly turning on his heel and walking towards the staircase - expecting you to follow.

You glanced back towards Husker and Angel, each giving you looks of grim sympathy and confusion respectively before you took a deep breath and forced one foot in front of the other, following Alastor up the steps.

You thought he would talk along the way. Engage in some form of idle chit-chat where he’d be pulling the strings, or even hum along to the countless jazz tunes that he played in the halls over the Hotel’s sound system.

But no such music played and he remained silent. A few minutes into the walk you gathered enough courage to glance up at him and found his eyes locked straight forward, not even sparing you so much as a glance.

You averted your gaze, the hem of your sleeves suddenly the most fascinating thing you’d ever seen.

Eventually, he came to a stop, and he held out the end of his microphone to prevent you from going any further down the hallway.

“Here we are!” Rather than producing a key from his coat, a green flash emanated from the lock when he placed his hand on the handle and opened the door.

He all but leered at you as he gave a small bow that didn’t feel genuine in the slightest.

“After you.~”

Like the alleged gentleman he was, Alastor held the door open for you, eyes never leaving your form as you walked inside his suite.

The smell of dampness and soil hit you immediately.

Alastor’s suite wasn’t the worst thing you’d seen in Hell by a mile, however, it was still eerie beyond words. The skeletons that hung along the walls and mantlepiece of his fireplace became less complete and increasingly disorganized as they led further into the room - which itself gave way to a swamp-like environment halfway through. Undoubtedly a result of whatever hoodoo, voodoo bullshit he was capable of, and while it still wasn’t the worst you’d seen, it served its purpose thoroughly.

It creeped the shit out of you.

“Now, then.” Alastor clicked the door shut, his body half-facing yours as his hand still lingered on the doorknob. “I'm sure you have a good explanation for what you’ve been doing.~”

The immediate dryness in your throat was hard to ignore. You knew what he was talking about, and you knew that he knew, but you still attempted to buy some time as you tried to figure out what to do.

You cleared your throat. “I was just catching up with Angel and Husk-”

He chuckled, the sound like that of a radio shifting stations. “Don’t be coy.” His head turned towards you with a sickening, ossified crackle that bent his neck in a manner that made your stomach lurch. “You’ve been avoiding me, and I’d like to know why.”

Fuck.

“I haven’t.” Lying to Alastor was a mistake, but you still decided to risk it since it wasn’t entirely false. “There’s just been a lot on my mind recently.”

“Hmm.” Interest and something much worse flickered behind his eyes as he faced you fully with another crack of his vertebrae. “Such as~?”

You shook your head, looking away from him. “That’s private.”

There was a quick flash of red, and the tip of his microphone turned your face back towards him - the cool metal of the edge digging into the skin of your cheek. You had to bite back a grimace.

“Not when it concerns me.” His tone was sharp, a stark contrast to the faux politeness he was putting on before. He kept the tip of his microphone where it was to prevent your eyes from looking anywhere but him. “And trust me darling, when it comes to you, everything concerns me.”

His words twisted in your gut. “...I’m not sure what you mean.”

Alastor tutted, his smile widening once more. “Don’t be stupid, darling, it’s unbecoming of you.” The way he said it was patronizing, like he was scolding a child. “You know precisely what I mean, so I’m going to ask again, as much as I hate repeating myself.~”

Cool metal was replaced with the warmth of his hand as he tilted your head up and brought his face frighteningly close to yours.

“Why are you keeping yourself from me?”

It was an odd sensation. Being backed into a corner, both metaphorically and physically. A frightening one that all but yanked on your instincts to do whatever it meant to get the fuck out of there, but you knew that was the worst thing you could do.

Alastor was a predator, a creature designed to prey on those he deemed weaker, and turning your back on a predator would almost certainly trigger a series of events that would not bode well for you.

So you did the next worst thing.

You told him the truth.

“Because I can see you.” The words felt wrong to say out loud. “I can see you for what you are, I can feel the absolute malevolence that radiates off you in waves, and it’s suffocating.”

Saying any more was a horrendous idea, but you couldn’t help but add one last thing.

“And if I want any chance at leaving this god-forsaken place, I can’t be around you.”

The silence that stretched on afterward was deafening.

Mentally, you were bracing yourself. Alastor had killed people for far less, and you expected nothing different for saying something so daring to his face.

You could see it too, the anger that simmered underneath his gaze. You expected the red of his sclera to flash black and his antlers to extend with his body in a grotesque display before you were ripped to pieces while he laughed.

What you didn’t expect was for his eyes to narrow into slits and his expression shift into one that was far more genuine than you wanted it to be, and it was then you knew that being saved from this kind of evil was never going to happen.

“Oh, my dear, you don’t need to worry about something silly like that.” Alastor all but cooed.

“After all, what makes you think I’d ever let you leave?~”

© absolute-flaming-trash 2024. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.

#riri writes #Alastor #Alastor x Reader #Hazbin Hotel #Yandere x Reader #tw yandere #tw implied forced relationship #tw implied captivity #tw toxic relationship #tw possessiveness #tw invasion of personal space #tw noncon touching #I return to my lil nest now. adeu.

[zephyrchama]

"What did Mammon do now?"

The greedy demon was in his underwear, hanging upside down from a rafter in the hallway. He tried to coerce you into letting him down as you walked by, but you knew better than to do so without consulting Lucifer.

"Gambling. The usual." Lucifer had a hand on his forehead, pushing his hair up while jotting something down at his desk.

"Mammon gambles every day," you pointed out. "What'd he really do?"

By the way Lucifer groaned, you knew it was something juicy. "I caught him pilfering one of my rarest records, a gift from Diavolo, to use as collateral in a bet. It's one-of-a-kind. I doubt he even knows what it is, but Mammon always has a knack for finding things of high value."

"His secret sixth sense," you agreed. "What'd you do with his clothes?"

"They make it harder to tie him up tightly. He has a slightly higher chance of wiggling free with clothes on, so I made him strip." Lucifer gestured, Mammon's clothes had been put on some kind of mannequin, tucked away in the space between two bookshelves.

You'd never seen it before. Your jaw dropped into the widest half-smile half-astonished expression possible. It had Mammon's hair and his goofy smile. Even a flashy golden earring. "What is that?"

You practically ran across the room to inspect it. It was dressed properly in Mammon's shirt and tie. There were a lot of seams, more than seemed necessary, perhaps from being repeatedly repaired over years of use. "Lucifer, this is adorable."

"It's a necessary tool for my sanity." He pushed the chair back, standing up to join you.

"What do you mean?"

"I'll give you a demonstration."

Lucifer comically wound up his closed fist. With ballistic force, he struck the figure right in its chest. It flopped back, then sprung back up wildly to receive a fistful of lighter blows from Lucifer.

"You made a Mammon punching bag? Really?" You didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Isn't that a bit much?"

"I didn't make it, Mammon did."

Surprise of the day number two. "Mammon made this? Himself?"

To stop the wobbling, Lucifer grabbed the punching bag's tie, pulling it tight and then smoothing it out. "Cute, right? He thought it might make me go easy on future punishments. It's a very thoughtful gift from my little brother."

"Yeah, I didn't know he could sew. Huh." The two of you stood to admire it before Lucifer returned to his desk. You followed him. "Kind of reminds me of the doll Levi made of me."

Lucifer smiled. "Leviathan made you a doll, did he? How very kind."

"No, he made a doll of me."

Lucifer froze to process this information, frowning.

You continued, "I don't know where he usually keeps it, but I saw it under his desk one time. It's pretty big and detailed. I mentioned it once and offered to lend him a shirt for it, but he got really embarrassed and pushed me out. He's gotta take more pride in his work, it was really impressive."

"I see." Lucifer gritted his teeth. "You know, something I have to do just came up. Let's finish this conversation later." He was quietly seething as he escorted you to the door. Along the way he gave punching-bag Mammon a soft whack to the head.

You realized you forgot to ask if you could untie the real Mammon, but Lucifer had already marched down the hall in the direction of Leviathan's room. Rather than trying to catch up, you decided to go see how the Avatar of Greed was doing.

#i bet satan has a lucifer punching bag #is this punching bag ever mentioned? where is the lore #obey me #obey me! swd #obey me scenarios #omswd #obey me headcanon #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me lucifer #tw punching ? is that a thing? i don't know how to tag this for content warning hm. #obey me! #obey me drabble #obey me fanfic #I started a bunch of mini fics and got like 95% of the way done an Asmo one but I'm not liking it. feels oddly written so I have to fix it. #obey me mc #obey me x mc #does levi making a creepy unexplained doll of mc count as x mc? sure.

[xianyoon]

you're not that bad of a study partner

xiao diluc kaeya childe wriothesley lyney alhaitham x gn!reader studying with them. romantic fluff. reupload from my previous blog ; @.i23kazu.

[ ♡ ] xiao

he's the one who has the noise-cancellation headphones, blacklisted apps activated kind of student. everything is on lockdown and on do not disturb mode – he doesn't even get texts from his parents – please don't disturb him. poke him with your pen and you'll just see him roll his eyes at you– no, seriously- it's not worth it! admittedly, xiao is also a really good student ; always on task, even for the subjects that he absolutely despises. ask him to tutor you and he might grumble and groan, but what happens when the tutor falls in love with his student? only one way to find out.

[ ♡ ] diluc

possibly the class rep and one of the harder ones to get close to. studying with him is a express ticket to resources that teachers had given him because of his high-class status. he's not proud of it – diluc genuinely believes that each student deserves the chance to have the same access as him – which is why he's willing to share it with you as well. we didn't even have to meet up, you could just have sent it over- you whine, but the tinge of crimson on his cheeks is a telltale sign that perhaps he needed- no, wanted, this excuse.

[ ♡ ] kaeya

the teasy study buddy. watch him annoy the hell out of you– of course you know he's teasing, but sometimes it hurts. "haha, i thought i taught you this already? does the little bunny not have enough space in there?" he taps your head with his pen. it's only when your face crumples and you start to mumble out apologies, teardrops cockling your paper – that he panics. "shit- i'm so sorry– how can i make it better?" he wipes your tears away gently with his thumbs – a true gentleman owns up to his mistakes. he makes it up with a sweet kiss and a stack of gift cards to your favourite cafes.

[ ♡ ] childe

he's the study partner friend who keeps you going, truly. if sunshine was bottled up and wrapped with a bow and had an orange cap, it would be childe! watching your face fall after staring at algebra simply won't do for him, no, no. let him lead you as he tugs on your hands outside of the study room, and just let your feet follow in his footsteps – you'll find yourself outside the library cafe. he takes out his wallet from his pocket and grins at you. "alright, it's on me! what do you want?" maybe his wallet is a little lighter, but so is his heart, once he sees your face light up.

[ ♡ ] wriothesley

wriothesley is the one who has it all planned out. first, you'll start studying at 10pm... which is a little late, but it's alright. you'll get tired around midnight, which will be when he offers you the first cup of warm chamomile. "won't this put me to sleep?" you whine, accepting it from him anyways. he chuckles and runs his hands through your hair, replying that it's never worked on him. true enough, you start getting sleepy around half past one – finally leaning against his shoulder, your arms going slack. kissing your head, he drapes a blanket around you. good night.

[ ♡ ] lyney

the one who sits besides you, cracking jokes every now and then! but when it's time to study, he can buckle down and start doing work –that's just lyney – the human on and off switch. there's something about him doing work while twirling his poker cards in his hands that's just so mesmerising – a stare a moment too long catches his eye, and he immediately jumps into doing a trick for you. get back to work!, you laugh and playfully swat his shoulder, turning back to your own paper. he chuckles in return, and unbeknownst to you, turns back to look at his own work with a smile.

[ ♡ ] alhaitham

alhaitham can be stricter as a study buddy – he's stern with distractions, wanting you to keep your phone to the side as he's explaining concepts – yes, concepts you learnt, but never understood. "hey, eyes here. did you understand, or do i need to go through it again?" he sounds bored, and you feel sorry for him. you mumble a soft i understand back, and he sighs and tells you to take a break. "look up." your eyes trail up from your tear-soaked papers, and instinctively close as he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead. "please believe in yourself just as i believe in you." he utters softly. you've never seen alhaitham act so tenderly before.

#xiao x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #childe x reader #alhaitham x reader #xiao fluff #kaeya fluff #diluc fluff #childe fluff #alhaitham fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact x gn reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff #lyney x reader #lyney fluff #xiao x gn reader #kaeya x gn reader #diluc x gn reader #childe x gn reader #wriothesley x gn reader #lyney x gn reader #alhaitham x gn reader #nereids' realm #astronetwrk #― latest brew. #genshin x you #genshin x y/n