#but you barely see the damn thing in the fight

[hitomisuzuya]

Self aware! Aventurine x fem!reader. Yandere! Aventurine cause why not. Something for giggles at the end.

No smut guys. This is just me being silly, and self indulgent cause Aventurine evaded me. It stings, ngl so this is more to make myself feel better😂 Pay zero attention to this nonsense omg 😂

Aventurine could instantly feel the sadness caused by the crushing weight of life through your hands the moment you played his character demo. He knew what that was like, so to be nice and so you could shut your brain off for awhile, no damage was taken at all from enemies.

Oh, but what's this? You started playing this game just for him. There were 5 days left for him to "come home", but sweetheart, it was an unrealistic gamble. You were still very wet behind the ears. Trailblaze level 39 and barely even aware of your own abilities to play the game.

Aventurine could definitely feel how scared you were observing you struggle and ultimately triumph over certain tasks once you got a feel for it down. It took you a lot of nerve to even play. He would hear you think, "I hate messing up and not doing things right the first time."

Dedication squeezed at your heart. Made you lose sleep. Dedication all for him.

Please quiet your pounding heart, darling. You have a better grasp than you think. It was quite frankly amazing to see.

It was both amusing and endearing to see you soak up information like a sponge. Only to have you try and pull when you had a comfortable amount of currency.

As the days went by, and your time window got closer to slamming shut until the next opportunity, he supposed that it was a good thing Dr. Ratio was helping you out.

Supposed, anyways

You were starting to cheer for Ratio when he started to crit high. That was starting to irk him, but the rush of fulfillment he felt through you when you cleared something made it worth it.

After all, you were doing all this for him. Aventurine was only able to feel your emotions because he is was always on your mind every second you played. Even after logging off.

You are his, damn it. That was that. There really wasn't anyone else you needed. He craved to spoil you.

Of course, he had his own ways of keeping tabs on you. Dr. Ratio was starting to be more use to him that he thought.

Aventurine truly hated shutting you down, especially when he felt your heart sting and a few tears well into your eyes. You held your head high and soldiered right on, brushing them away from your eyes with your delicate hand before they even fell.

He wanted you flourish first. He wanted you to have 10000% confidence. He knew he could've just come home and did everything for you, but he wanted to fight by your side as well as fight for you. He wanted you set up the party with him in it and think with a smile, "I can do this. I know I am capable. And I have you, Aventurine. Nothing can go wrong."

It was a pleasure for him to watch you. Especially in the Simulated Universe, and the Critter Pick quest. How you smiled and giggled at the cat cakes. You cooed at them. Even lamented about not having something like them in another game.

When that time finally came, and it would, don't you worry your pretty little head. He already knew your dedication level was incredibly high, and there would be extra insurance provided by both you and him.

Aventurine realized that you were irrevocably, totally, and completely dizzy in love with him. The words in your head exactly. They made his heart skip beats.

When he realized he was in love with you, it was during the end of Critter Pick mission. It snuck up on him, and slapped him hard in the face. It was when you were facing down the Swarm for the final Curio.

You loathed The Juvenile Sting and Lesser Sting from the Swarm in particular. You'd retreated over and over, getting intimidated when they multiplied. Until one night, you'd narrowed your eyes in determination and said, "Okay, you fucking bugs. Let's go. I won't be bullied by you today. I will do this for the sake of the cat cakes."

You dug your heels in, and didn't run. You wanted to do many times. You were already terribly fragile with your confidence to begin with. He watched you so close, and the surge of pride he felt when he saw you refused to yield in the end was undescribable.

"That's my girl," He'd murmured when the final bug exploded. Ratio may have taken care of you, and he was glad for that. Aventurine knew he would've been better for you.

Until that day when he could come for you, darling, he was still going to be there. Hovering patiently unseen. Maybe your shields around your characters would last a little longer in tight spots. Maybe a mysterious extra skill point would appear that you thought you didn't have. Maybe, just for you, Ratio would have an extra follow up attack.

And okay maybe sometimes when you had to pause battle for whatever reason, Ratio would get downed mysteriously now and then. He really, really was starting to hate that you relied on him so much.

Aventurine sought out a certain master hacker to put traces on your phone. That would was the only way to keep you close off game. Perhaps he would find a way to just come to you. And poof, you would disappear from your world and go with him.

He felt much better knowing where you were, and what you were doing when he so desired. He lived for when he could hear you say his name outloud. It sounded so sweet to him to even hear you think it.

It was ideal, really.

And just who was Scaramouche anyways? He was immediately shut down with such a spine chilling shock when he tried to investigate.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail imagines #aventurine #self aware aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine x y/n

[nkn0va]

Request for Chie, Yukiko, Rise, and Naoto where they have a best friends to lovers relationship with their S/O. I'm talking about Yu and Yosuke levels of friendship. Please and thank you.

Ouch...almost two months...murdered motivation sucks...

-Chie first met you back in middle school. Your mutual love of martial arts movies led you to becoming fast friends, even though she was much more... enthusiastic than you were. You really just liked watch people fighting but Chie took it to the extreme.

-Not that you minded by any means of course, you looked up and admired her passion and drive. When you two met Yukiko as you entered high school you quickly became the glue holding the three of you together.

-It wasn't long before Yukiko started shipping the two of you together. Your dynamic just really struck a chord with her, she couldn't really describe it. As the Investigation team is formed and more people join, they start sharing the same sentiment.

-It never really occurred to Chie, mostly because she's not exactly a wise sage, but it certainly at least crossed your mind once or twice. Being around her just felt so...natural. It sort of felt like you were already romantically involved.

-It's after your close encounter with death when you caught the true culprit of the murders that you realized you had to do something or nothing would happen. It got you thinking on your own mortality and the realization that if you wanted to see change in your short life, you needed to make it happen yourself.

-As soon as you did work up the courage to confess your real feelings, Chie immediately breathes a sigh of relief, both at the fact that you felt the same she did and that she didn't need to take initiative herself anymore.

-Truthfully, not much changes People were teasing you about being in a relationship already for a reason. But there is that extra bit of tension when you're together. But it's the good kind.

-Your parents moved to Inaba when you were a child, and naturally you had to go along with them. While you were waiting for furniture to be moved into the new place you all went exploring and ended up at the Amagi Inn everyone was seemingly talking about.

-While you're looking around for things to do, you meet a girl your age who you learn is the daughter of the owners and you become friends pretty quickly.

-You're the first to find out and worry when Yukiko goes missing during your second year of high school. Once you figure out that Chie, Yosuke, and the new transfer student have found out where she is and they're planning to save her, you quickly assert yourself into the group, no room for negotiation.

-You lowkey lead the charge, leadership from Yu be damned. You're not letting anything happen to Yukiko as long as you still draw breath.

-Once you confront Yukiko's Shadow you go pretty much into overdrive. If her Shadow wasn't as strong as it was you would've thrown hands with it personally, even if you were weak to Fire skills after awakening your Persona.

-You barely manage to slip by and get Yukiko out safely after she's able to accept her Shadow. Something's still bothering you, though. The way her Shadow called you her prince, coming to save her.

-Upon questioning her, she suddenly gets rather nervous, but eventually confesses that she'd had feeling for you for some time now. You were able to act normal around her, supporting her no matter what.

-And you'd still stick by her no matter what. But this time, as her S/O.

-You were shopping one day in Junes when a girl your age quickly approached you, asking you to help her hide. Not really knowing what else to do when put in such a situation out of nowhere, you complied.

-After the surprisingly large crowd that came out of nowhere left, she breathed a sigh of relief and introduced herself as THE Risette, having no choice now. To her surprise though, you weren't a rabid fan. Yeah you'd heard of her, but had no interest in her status.

-Needless to say this came as quite a shock to her, but it also came with a huge opportunity. the opportunity to make a real, genuine friend without needing to worry about it going south because of her fame.

-So that's exactly what she did. You were keeping out of public eye as much as possible so people didn't catch on to your repeated plots in hiding her whenever the two of you went out, doing normal teenager things and growing closer.

-The feeling of security, of being able to be a normal person around you was something Rise didn't want to lose. Someone she could actually be Rise with, not Risette.

-The moment she knew she wanted you as an S/O, she made that clear immediately. And of course you couldn't say no to such an infectiously energetic, upbeat lady.

-Your dad was in the Inaba police force, he had been for quite a while. You accompanied him to the station one day, and for a change, actually found someone your age.

-An androgynous young man, claiming to be a student detective brought on to help solve the recent murder cases. You ask if you can help any, you did at least pick up a couple things from your old man. He said he'd get back to you if he ever needed anything and thanked you for the offer.

-It's not long before this new acquaintance, Naoto, does in fact get back to you. You two go out somewhere to eat and discuss/speculate about the case. Naoto however quickly became drawn to you, somehow, and the you ended up hanging out more casually, slowly but surely.

-Naoto in a twist of fate, however, ended up going missing as well like a few other people have. You were worrying for days about whether or not everything was alright, worried another body would be added to the count.

-Miraculously, and much to your relief, he ends up safe and sound, though saying there was a big secret to reveal. Naoto was actually...a woman.

-After listening to his- er... her reasoning for the disguise, you completely understand why it was done, much to her relief. You don't judge her for it.

-Once the secret's out, she opens up much more than before, and soon it's not long before a different kind of feeling between you two starts to develop. Surprisingly, she's the one to confess first. After confronting her Shadow, she realized she needed to be true to herself more, thought you don't need to know about the whole world inside the TV deal.

-She's inexperienced, but she's trying. It takes her a while to accept the fact you appreciated her for her, but the idea of calling you her S/O definitely wasn't one she was against.

#x reader #persona 4 x reader #persona headcanons #persona #chie satonaka #chie satonaka x reader #yukiko amagi #yukiko amagi x reader #rise kujikawa #rise kujikawa x reader #naoto shirogane #naoto shirogane x reader #headcanon

[ultram0th]

Wolfe Glick's New Career

Part 1 │ Part 2

"Damn it!” Blue, working in his home office, heard Kevin groan from the front door.

He pushed himself away from his desk and walked downstairs, trying to figure out what was wrong. In the entryway of their home, he saw his shirtless, hairy boyfriend clad in nothing but a skimpy jockstrap that struggled to contain his massive bulge. He was frowning as he glanced at the porch, the door swinging wide open so that the whole neighborhood could see his buff frame.

“What is it?” Blue asked, placing a tender hand on Kevin’s hairy pec, trying to fight back a smile as the other man shuddered at the touch, his jockstrap-clad bulge twitching.

Kevin tried to focus on the issue at hand, even as he leaned further into Blue’s touch. “Someone stole our package,” he whined. “Again!”

At the sound of the ruckus downstairs, Nick made his way down and over to the other two. He was still naked from his interrupted stream, his hard cock bobbing out in front of him with every step he took. The only thing he wore was a cowboy hat— something that was a permanent fixture of his wardrobe. “What’s goin’ on?” he asked, his thick country boy accent as prominent as ever.

Blue crossed his arms in front of himself. “It seems that there’s been some porch pirates in the area,” he mused, trying to think up a solution.

Kevin snorted, “Maybe if we had a guard dog to scare the thieves away.”

Nick nodded in agreement. “Some big fella who would scare any of them robbers away. That’d do the trick.”

An idea started to form in Blue’s mind and he began to smirk to himself. “A big, strong guard dog?” he hummed. “That’s a pretty good idea…”

— — —

“…so make sure you like and subscribe for more Pokémon content,” Wolfe Glick said into his webcam, giving his usual sign off for his next video. He clicked on the red circle icon, stopping his recording.

He glanced at the time on his computer, and shot out of his seat once he realized that he was running late for his appointment. The World Champion Pokémon player was an avid streamer, and with Worlds coming up, he was starting to feel the pressure a little bit. It wasn’t anything too terrible, but Wolfe figured that the smartest thing to do would be to talk to a professional before any of his anxieties grew.

After doing some Internet searching, Wolfe had stumbled upon the homepage of a certain hypnotherapist named Blue, who claimed to specialize in work-related anxiety. After one phone call, he’d made an appointment with the hypnotherapist, hoping that he could use his expertise to help him dominate at Worlds and maintain his top position as the World’s Greatest Pokémon Master.

After leaving his place, Wolfe made it to the hypnotherapist’s home office just in time. He parked his car in back and made his way up to the front door.

He barely had time to knock before the front door swung open, revealing the doctor. “Welcome, Wolfe,” Blue grinned. “I’ve been expecting you. Please come in.”

The streamer followed Blue inside the home, noting how cozy it was. There was the faint smell of musk, as if there was an at-home gym on the premises. Plus, he could see a variety of consoles and gaming memorabilia.

“You game?” Wolfe asked, finding playing video games a safe way to form a connection with a new person.

Blue nodded as he led the other man into his office, gesturing towards the sofa for him to relax on. “From time to time,” he said. “My boyfriends play a lot more than I do. They actually stream for a living.”

Wolfe nodded to himself as he took the offered seat.

“But you didn’t come all the way here to discuss gaming with me, did you?” Blue asked, grabbing his notebook and pen. “Tell me, Wolfe, what’s on your mind?”

The streamer shrugged his broad shoulders, and the bottom of his polo lifted with the action, giving Blue a sneak peek of his happy trail. “I’ve just been feeling a little stress and anxiety over this competition that’s coming up,” he admitted. “It’s nothing too much, but I just wanted to talk to someone to make sure I stay grounded.”

Blue nodded, humming to himself in thought. “You know,” he finally said, “there are some hypnosis treatments that I can offer you to help keep your stress levels down.”

“Sure, let’s try it,” he said, leaning back into the sofa.

The hypnotherapist fought to hide his mischievous smirk as he grabbed his pocket watch out of his coat. “Now, just focus your attention on the watch and listen to the sound of my voice,” he said in a smooth tone. 

Wolfe did as instructed, and he instantly felt relaxed as he watched the pocket watch swing left and right. The sounds of the Blue’s melodic words lulled him into a deep sleep, and eventually his eyes glazed over and his jaw was slack as he fell under Blue’s control.

A wide grin stretched out Blue’s face. “Now Wolfe, I want you to listen to every command I give you,” he said, his voice slow and deep. “Tell me if you understand.”

“I understand,” Wolfe repeated in a monotone, his eyes still fixated on the swinging pocket watch.

“Now, Wolfe, you may continue your streaming career, but you’re also going to take up another passion: Bodybuilding.”

“I will take up bodybuilding,” Wolfe repeated.

“You will look into bodybuilding and you will grow consumed with the thought of getting bigger. And you won’t listen to anyone who questions this new desire of yours.”

“I want to get bigger.”

Snap! Blue snapped his fingers, jolting Wolfe out of his daze.

Wolfe jerked back in his seat, rubbing at his temples in confusion. The last thing he’d been able to vividly recall was arriving at the doctor’s home. Yet, after that, everything was fuzzy. He struggled to recall anything during the hypnosis session, but a thick fog seemed to solidify in his brain, effectively blocking it out.

The streamer continued to massage his foggy head as he tried to piece together anything. However, he soon realized that the mild panic he’d felt earlier in the morning was gone. Whereas, he’d felt a little apprehension about the upcoming Pokémon tournaments, he didn’t feel worried in the slightest now as he sat in front of Blue.

The man perked up. “It worked!” he gasped in surprised. “Holy crap, it actually worked!”

Blue smiled to himself. “Of course it did,” he chuckled. “Now, let’s go ahead an schedule you a follow-up…”

After scheduling another session, Wolfe left the doctor’s office with his head held high. The cute streamer was in awe that the hypnotherapy actually worked, and he was planning on telling all of his friends about the miracle worker that Dr. Blue was. However, all of his elation fell down to the ground when he saw his reflection in the tinted windows of his car.

Wolfe deeply frowned when he examined his body.

He’d worn a simple polo and some shorts for his session, so his limbs were easily visible. However, the man grew self-conscious when he saw how stick thin and tiny his arms looked. He flexed one arm, feeling immense disappointment when his bicep barely created a lump. Looking down at himself, his chest seemed embarrassingly flat, showing absolutely zero traces of muscle whatsoever. And his legs were like toothpicks: thin and simple.

Never before had Wolfe ever felt self-conscious about his body. Being a streamer, he tended to not get as much exercise as he’d preferred to; however, all he seemed to be able to think about as he stared at his slender reflection was that he was so small and tiny.

Without a second thought, Wolfe got into his car and sped down the road to one of the local gyms in the area. He hurried inside and paid for a membership, immediately heading towards the weight pile…

— — —

There was a knock on the door, and Dr. Blue left his office to go answer it. He swung it open widely, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull as he saw his altered client.

“Good morning, Dr. Blue,” Wolfe smiled as he entered the house for his follow-up appointment.

It’d been about two months since his last visit, and although he’d known that the results would be drastic, Blue still wasn’t fully prepared for what he saw.

Whereas before, Wolfe had been rather slender and toned, this new hunk was packed with solid muscle. Still wearing the same sized clothes as before, Wolfe’s new muscles stretched every fabric to the limit. His arms had grown, making the tight sleeves of his polo bunch up near his rounding shoulders. The bottom of his shirt was lifted a little bit due to his growing pecs that were now so big that the streamer couldn’t button up the polo at the top. His legs had grown a bit too, forcing his usual strut to take on a little bit of a waddle.

“Wow, Wolfe, you’ve been working out, haven’t you?” Blue mused, quite literally drooling over the growing gamer.

Wolfe blushed a little bit. “Yeah, a little bit,” he said, flexing a sizable bicep, causing the fabric around his arms to rip a little bit. “I’m still nowhere near as big as I’d like to be though.”

Blue smirked a little as an idea formed in his head. “Well, I can help you out with that too,” he offered. “If you’d like, of course.”

Wolfe eagerly agreed and nearly threw himself down onto the couch, sitting up straight as he readied himself for another hypnotherapy session. His stress levels were already at an all time low, so if Blue could help him out with his workouts, then he’d feel one-hundred percent at peace. Over the past few months, Wolfe still streamed and prepared for Worlds; however, whenever he wasn’t playing Pokémon, the stud was in the gym. He worked out religiously all in attempt to bulk up. Although he was gaining some impressive muscles in such a short amount of time (and he’d already gained about twenty pounds of pure muscle), he was nowhere near feeling big enough. He still felt tiny, despite having outgrown all of his clothes that were now plastered against his growing frame.

“Just pay attention to the pocket watch,” Blue ordered, swinging it to and fro.

Again, it didn’t take long before Wolfe was lost in a trance, his jaw slacked as the growing muscle stud was put under.

“Wolfe,” Blue smiled, “you’re making some nice progress, but we can speed things up a bit. You’re now going to feel an urge to take steroids so that you can get as inhumanly big as possible.”

“I will take steroids,” Wolfe repeated, his voice robotic and slow.

“And once you’re all big and bulky like a bodybuilder, you’ll come move in here to be our good guard dog.”

“I will be a big guard dog…”

— — —

Over the next few months, Wolfe practically lived in the gym. He still focused on his streaming career, and even won Worlds. However, now that that was out of the way, the growing hunk was able to devote all of his time to working out and growing his muscles.

At his gym, he’d managed to make some connections to get a hold of some fast-acting steroids that were guaranteed to bring about drastic results. At first, Wolfe noticed the side effects more than anything. His body hair grew in thicker with all of the extra testosterone in his system, leading to his chest hair growing in at a faster rate and covering up all of his budding muscles. And his libido was in hyperdrive. The streamer was constantly horny, and after each workout session, he had to excuse himself to the locker room to take care of his throbbing member.

Whereas Wolfe had started out his hypnotherapy sessions weighing in a regular 180 pounds, the stud was now topping the scales at 320 pounds of pure, solid muscle. His arms had packed on so much size that he had trouble bending them past a ninety degree angle, and whenever they were relaxed, they rested atop his new flaring lats. His pecs had inflated to large proportions, looking cumbersome and heavy as they jutted off his torso. The hairy mounds were so large that they forced his nipples to point downward; and his large pecs and arms kept pushing against each other whenever he tried to told a game controller for his streams which led to a lot of his videos showing him struggling to get comfortable in his tiny chair with such a large bulky body. His legs were so large now that the streamer waddled everywhere he went, his massive thighs rolling over each other with each step. Thanks to his steroid usage, his stomach pushed out slightly, giving him the beginnings of what would eventually turn into a large, round roidgut.

Wolfe was huge! His large hairy muscles were professional bodybuilder size, and the stud still wanted to get bigger. He had trouble finding clothes that would fit over his enormous bulk, resulting in his wardrobe consisting of numerous tanks and loose shorts. Still, at their largest size, his shorts appeared shrink wrapped around his big quads, and his pecs constantly spilled out over the tops of his tanks.

It was dressed like this that Wolfe made his way back to Blue’s place for what was supposed to be their final session. Although Wolfe felt as if his anxiety was under control, he still felt compelled to venture back to the hypnotherapist’s office.

When he entered, he felt an odd surge of pride when he saw how wide Blue’s eyes got when looking at his muscles.

“Wow, Wolfey,” Blue genuinely mused. “You’re huge!”

Wolfe felt his face stretch out into a joyful smile at being called huge, and he couldn’t resist forming a double biceps pose on the spot. His mountainous biceps flexed with power, and since he’d come straight to the doctor’s after his workout, his hairy pits were all sweaty and musky, filling the small office with a locker room aroma.

Blue ran an admiring hand over one of Wolfe’s large muscletits, giving the round muscle a playful squeeze. “You must’ve been working out a lot,” he teased. “Such a big, strong guy you are!”

Wolfe couldn’t help but preen at the compliments he was getting. For some strange reason, they seemed to bring about a joyous sensation deep within him, and he felt himself growing more and more excited by the second. His hard cock started to tent out his workout shorts, and he moved to another pose. This time, forming a side chest pose to illustrate just how much work he’d put into building up his massive body.

“Is that him?” Wolfe heard a deep voice with a country accent ask.

Still posing, he looked over to the stairs to see two men descend. One was wearing cowboy hat while the other had grown out what looked like a porn stache. Both were hairy and left their impressive (yet way smaller than his) chests on full display.

Instead of being self-conscious at being caught showing off his muscles for another guy, Wolfe loved having more guys look at him. The streamer leaned forward to form a most muscular pose, loving every second that the three guys were gawking at his humongous muscles.

“Yep,” Blue said, clapping Wolfe on the back. “This is Wolfey, our new guard dog. With muscles as big as his, no one will dare to steal our packages anymore. Watch…”

The hypnotherapist pressed a button on his phone, making the doorbell ring.

Something inside of Wolfe clicked and the large bodybuilder streamer felt a fierce protectiveness grow inside of himself. Looking at Blue, Nick, and Kevin, Wolfe started to view the men in a different light. Suddenly, instead of strangers, the three of them were the most handsome men in the world to Wolfe, and he could feel an almost animalistic instinct form in the pit of his gut.

At the thought of someone being at the door, Wolfe dropped onto all fours with a loud thud. The large bodybuilder crawled over the door, his massive muscular arms slamming onto the floor intimidatingly as he moved. He felt himself bare his teeth, letting out a low, bellowing growl.

“Grrr…” Wolfey growled as he protected his new home like a guard dog. He puffed out his hairy, muscular chest with power. Had someone really been at the door, then no doubt, they would’ve been scared away by the sight of the growling bodybuilder.

Blue smirked and walked up to Wolfey. He fastened a leather collar with spikes adorning it around his neck. Attached to it was a metallic tag in the shape of a dog bone that read out: WOLFEY.

Wolfey flinched at the feeling and for a moment, something inside of his foggy brain screamed at him that something was wrong. It said that he shouldn’t be on the floor of the hypnotherapist’s office, and that he shouldn’t be this big. However, as he looked up into Blue’s eyes, he felt the panic quickly evaporate and he flexed his large muscles with pride.

“Who’s my good boy?” Blue teasingly asked, patting Wolfey on the head.

The bodybuilder streamer straightened his posture and flexed his large arms again. “Me,” he beamed widely. “I’m a good boy!”

Over the next few days, Wolfey blended into the new dynamic at Blue’s household seamlessly. In the morning, he would wake up and stream some Pokémon, showing off his massive muscles for his viewers and flexing whenever they tipped him. Then he’d start to work out in the home gym, grunting loudly as he lifted heavy weights like they were nothing. He also proved to be quite the guard dog too, fiercely protecting his new house and its inhabitants. There were no more porch pirate incidents, especially after Wolfey came bounding out the front door, barking and displaying his massive muscles to scare the would-be robber away.

The massive bodybuilder guard dog loved his new life with Blue, Kevin, and Nick. He was such a good boy.

#muscle #musclegrowth #bodybuilder #pecs #straight-to-gay #hypnosis #Wolfe Glick #Puppification #Good Boy #Nick Jonas #Kevin Jonas #the jonas brothers #Unaware

[orcelito]

I'm on ep5 of LOK and remembering why I have never gotten past the first season of this show. The love triangle shit is driving me INSANE in the worst of ways. It feels like fucking high school drama.

I will stick it out... because I have heard the show gets better... and also the promise of endgame Korra and Asami.... I will stick it out this time....!!!!

But God. It's so annoying 😭😭😭😭

#speculation nation #i will stay strong. i WILL... i will.... #the thing is like. atla always had the romance subplots & some jealousy plots. but it was like #they had bigger fish to fry. at the end of the day the romance was never the prime focus #bc they were fighting a War! and they were younger than the LOK team too #it never felt so heavy-handed in atla. in LOK it just feels so Forced.... #doesnt help that im like. man Bolin really would be better for Korra than Mako. #stop paying attention to a wishy washy guy who wont even pay 100% attention to his own girlfriend (who's not you!!!!!) #i rly do like Bolin and Korra's interactions. but also the way the writing is pushing Bolin's crush on her kinda sucks #bc i think theyd be best as bros. genuinely. #and i Know we get the f/f ending but god DAMN im still. ugh ugh ugh. what a time. #also barely relevant but who was the lady Tenzin was seeing before his wife. im so curious #this man is so stiff howd he get TWO women falling for him like that??! #ALSO... the fact that ep 4 is so heavy on the fear and seriousness. then ep 5 is just like. oh no! love triangles! #hfkshfksd ive been enjoying some of the show but rn i am so annoyed by it hfkshfkd #i will stay strong... i will... it will be worth it to stick it out....... I Will...!!!! #fanny watches lok

[brynnmclean]

y'all, I feel like I've said this a lot, it is truly a joy to be a GM, but I am so fucking ready to get out of the chair and be a player again

#the goalpost keeps moving #i think i have 10 more sessions in me max #those sessions will be PACKED. have to have a mini boss fight. the breaking of a curse. the boss fight. some kind of arc resolution #that will be player driven! whatever they want to do with relations between two groups before they go north! #and THEN the long awaited audience with gil galad to hopefully broker some kind of alliance between them and tar miriel. #winter will arrive and it will see them either at sea or in lindon. hoping for lindon but they could fuck up negotiations for sure. #the problem with my notes tbh is that there is a lot of stuff in my brain but not a lot on paper #anyway. christ. what is it like just showing up to a d&d session with a character sheet and a notebook. #AKB will be 3 years old in january #i think i'm still in the hot seat until april #i love this campaign. i do i really do. but hoooooo boy. i want a real break. #this last hiatus doesn't feel like it counted because it was schedule driven and i still have to keep things spinning in my mental space. #not to mention no one GMed anything in the meantime #there was some poll recently that was about being a player for a long form campaign like what type of characters have you played #and one-shots and campaigns that fizzled out <3 sessions in don't count #i looked at that poll and was like well damn. i haven't been a player in a long form campaign since probably... 2016. GURPs 4e. #wait that's not true-- the 5e/Star Wars Saga ed hybrid campaign that was a mixed bag. scoundrel ship mechanic zabrak life. #ha! checked my notes! that ended in july 2022 #i feel like that one barely counts though because my PC was wrangling the group to keep us on task (frustrating. i am a plot hound player) #these tags are out of hand #i'm just tired and struggling with stat blocks nbd #to be deleted i guess #do i need a loremaster tag?

[redhotarsenic]

Finished the first expansion 🙏🙏🙏

#I was supposed to use the limit break thing on the second to last boss but I forgot how to do it #I though you had to click on the bar to do the thing and obviously it didn’t go off #so I was panicking #and I decided to try and see if I could do enough damage normally so I didn’t fail the fight #which I did #barely #I’m pretty sure I got the boss with less than a second left on the timer #nearly had a heart attack #but I got it #also why the fuck are the credits so damn long jesus

[fairy-angel222]

𝐂𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍’

—OFFICER! TOJI F. x F! READER

᧔♡᧓ in which your officer boyfriend catches you at a party that you lied about going to

᧔♡᧓ content: rough smut, age gap (reader is in college), angry sex, jealous sex, possessive toji, handcuffs, breeding, choking, hair pulling, ass/tit/pussy slapping, praise, degradation, daddy kink here and there, begging, orgasm denial, passing out, pussy eating, semi-public sex, sex in police car

᧔♡᧓ requested by @valleydoli 💗

᧔♡᧓ wc: 3.1k

Toji couldn’t fight the annoyance on his face as he pulled up into the small neighborhood. Loud music blaring through the air as colorful lights beamed onto the dimly lit street. There had been a number of complaints. The neighborhood’s residents ringing 9-1-1 one after the other.

To say he didn’t care was an understatement. Out of the whole department Gojo Satoru just had to dispatch him to break up a stupid college party. His police vehicle came to a stop a little down the block, the tall man stepping out with stonic features and a sigh as he made his way closer to the source of vulgar tunes which seemed to shake surrounding houses.

Toji stalked up to the front door, the smell of hard alcohol and weed hitting his nose as he banged on the door. Forceful enough for the sound to ring throughout the noisy inside. A drunk boy no older than 19 swinging the door open with a grin. “Hey man! O-oh shit. Hey officer, what can i do for you?” He cleared his throat, swallowing hard under Toji’s harsh gaze as he tried his hardest to appear sober.

Toji peered over the boy and into the room. Sweaty bodies grinding against each other while others made out, almost every hand nursing a plastic red cup. “Do me a favor and just keep the noise down alright, if not shut this whole damn thing down.. what the fuck.” The officer spat bitterly, jaw clenching with a scowl when his eyes landed on someone. His someone.

You.

He couldn’t believe it. You had been so persistent on spending the night at home. Claiming that you had piles on piles of work to complete. Did you crave attention that badly? One measly night he had to work overtime and this was the shit you pulled? Clad in a lacy dress which had a deep v cut and barely reached your mid thigh. Your body, his girl’s body, on display for everyone to see.

He could see the eyes roaming your figure top through bottom. His blood boiling as he visibly seethed, shoving past the lanky teenage boy to make his way over to you. You were grinning happily, one hand in your hair and the other ghosting over the hand that rested on your hip. Giving the girl behind you the dance of her life.

The music lowered, Toji’s eyes twitching at all the loud gasps that echoed through the room. All eyes on his large frame as he towered over everyone in the room. Muscles bulging through his tight shirt with each hard step that he took. All eyes but yours. You were too into what you were doing, and your boyfriend couldn’t help his rising anger as he got closer and closer. Spotting familiar brunette and green hair sat on a couch with their lips on each other’s.

Of course. You were dragged here.

You giggled loudly, taking a swig from the girl’s cup and letting the bitter tasting liquid scrape at the walls of your throat when you swallowed. Your friends’ eyes widened as they pulled away from each other, desperately trying to get your attention as you swayed your hips. Those hips that only Toji was allowed to see move.

A hand grabbed the flesh of your arm tightly, your head whipping around to snap at the stranger before your brows furrowed. Taking in that broad chest that you’d gotten to know by heart. Your eyes timidly trailed upwards, a small whimper caught in your throat when they met his darkened ones. The man’s head tilting to the side as if daring you to not comply. He would not hesitate to get you out of there over his shoulder if he had to.

“T-toji.. h-hi i-“ you stuttered, looking down at your feet as you shuffled nervously. Eyes darting to the girls who eyed you apologetically.

“Shut up.” His voice was firm, and your thighs clenched as you held back another whimper. You could feel everyone’s eyes boring into you. “Fuck. You know what? Everybody out.” His voice raised at the end. The bustling college teens wasting no time before they scattered, afraid at just the mere sight of the man. “And you.. oh you’re in for it now.”

All the alcohol seemed to leave your system when Toji pulled your arms behind your back. Cuffing your hands as your face heated up in embarrassment. “T-toji w-wait.” The man ignored you as he pulled you out of the room, not caring about how you stumbled over your own two feet to keep up with his large strides.

“She really disobeyed you this time huh?” A familiar voice rung out, a teasing smirk on Gojo’s face as he walked up the few stairs that you’d just descended from. “Good job Y/n.” He winked, a deep chuckle leaving his throat as he thought back to exactly why he had sent Toji out here.

It didn’t take long to reach the vehicle with the speed you were being pulled at. Toji’s hold on your arm never loosening in the slightest. “Get in.” Toji spoke meanly, holding the door open with a gesture for you to get inside.

“But-“

“Get the fuck in Y/n.” He never called you by your name often, only when he was mad. It was always some sweet petname that made you feel all warm and tingly inside. Sliding into the vehicle you kept your head low, the door slamming behind you not too long after.

You squirmed in your seat. Giving into the tension filled silence as you watched his grip on the wheel tighten until his knuckles were pale. Thoughts of you letting any other man touch you coursing in his mind.

Toji undid the first two buttons of his shirt, using his fingers to prod the tight fabric open as he rolled his neck. Taking the pair of handcuffs off his suited pants before rolling the vehicle to a stop.

“Toji ‘m sorry.” You mumbled almost shyly, face getting hot as your arousal dampened your lace panties.

He ignored you. Taking a step out of the car and into the night’s darkness. The vacant road scarce of any sources of light. Your door swung open, eyes widening in a doe-like pout as you looked up at him.

“Don’t. Not after that shit you just pulled.” He warned, expression still hard as you climbed out, the slam of the door making you jump with a yelp. A small whine left your throat as you were flipped around, chest pressed into the vehicle’s side with your hands still bound behind your back.

He roughly pushed your dress up to your waist with a scoff. “Going out dressed like you want to get laid. Am i not enough for you baby?” His fingers found their way to your clad folds. Brushing over your clit with a hum. “Do i not fuck you enough? Is that little pussy so desperate to be filled?” He didn’t give to a chance to answer, his palm landing heavily on your pussy making you jerk with a cry. “Look at that. She’s all wet f’me. Such a greedy fucking cunt yeah?”

You whimpered loudly, Toji’s voice deep and husky in your ear as he kissed up your neck. Allowing you to lean back onto him with your head on his chest. Soft moans falling past your lips as you let yourself grind on his fingers. Another loud cry filling the air when he landed it hard on your ass instead.

“I shouldn’t even be touching you.” He whispered venomously, voice laced with clear disappointment as he pushed his fingers past the thin fabric, pressing the pad of his middle finger onto your clit before rubbing small circles. Watching the way your lips parted in sweet noises as you let your eyes flutter shut. “Should just drop you home and leave you all desperate and needy.”

That made you whine with the shake of your head, pushing your ass back onto his crotch in want. “Or will you just call someone to come fuck you like a little slut?” You cringed at the sound of your panties tearing, Toji’s muscles straining against the confines of his shirt’s fabric as he rolled up his sleeves. Quickly working to free his hard cock before pushing you into the back seat of the car with a smirk. Handling your body until you were face down, with your ass up on display for him.

“Look at yourself.” He forced your head up to gaze at your reflection in the window. “Gonna fucking destroy you baby. Do you want that?”

You nodded, eyes prickling with tears as you clenched in anticipation. You wanted his cock so bad. “Ahh f-fuck.” Another slap to your ass.

“So you do have a mouth.”

Words. He wanted to hear you say it.

“P-please fuck me daddy.”

“You can do better than that princess.”

“Please. Please fuck me. Need you so bad. ‘M aching f’ you. Want you to fill me up.” You begged.

“That’s it. That’s my slutty girl.” You mewled loudly at the intrusion of Toji’s thick cock. The man bottoming out inside you with one quick thrust making your knees buckle underneath you while your back arched. Feeling Toji’s fat tip immediately prodding at the increased tightness near your cervix.

“Shit.” He cursed, breathing getting heavy as he nestled his cock within your warm walls. Forgetting just how much he loved that little cunt of yours.

He started off rough, forcing his cock deep as you rocked harshly against the soft seat. Loud moans dripping off the tip of your tongue as his cocked kissed meanly at your g spot.

Your pussy stretched to accommodate the quick thrusts of his girthy length. Feeling his veins scraping deliciously against your gummy walls as he hammered into you.

You cried out when Toji’s hand found its way around your throat, pulling you up to his chest with your hands flush between your back and his chest. Drool filled babbles spilling messily onto your skin at the force of his hips.

“Haah— T-toji f-fuck,” you keened loudly, your chest riding and falling rapidly as your brain turned to mush. Unable to think of anything but how good he felt inside of you. Lewd squelches mixed with skin slapping burning its way into your brain. A constant reminder of Toji’s abuse to your sensitive cunt as your vision blurred.

“That’s it baby. Take it real nice n’ deep. You’re practically swallowing me in right now.” He breathed. Hand tightening around your throat as the other travelled down to your chest, barely having to tug at the black fabric for your tits to spill into his large hand. Rough fingers twisting at your pert nipples as he palmed the soft flesh.

“Ahh— so good. Feels s’ good daddy.” You cried, Toji’s hand landing two consecutive slaps onto your breasts.

“Gonna stuff this pussy real full. Breed her with my cum till you know your place.” He growled lowly, his frustration seeming to reemerge as he stroked his cock with your tightness. Allowing himself to poke at every corner of your warmth, ruining your slutty pussy to your tears.

“Wanna go out dressed like you’re available. Single. Like you don’t have me taking care of that ache between your legs every single night.” His pace quickened with every word. Snapping his hips up mercilessly till his balls reddened your puffy clit, mouth hung open in whiny mewls as your stomach tightened.

Your tears flowed freely as you were shoved back into the car’s seat. Your mind dizzy at the plowing of his cock into your sweet spot. Toji’s hand moving to grip at the delicate flesh of your hip with other torturing your clit. Rubbing mean, hard circles onto the swollen bud.

“Tojii— ‘m gonna, ahh- ‘m gonna cum.” You whimpered, catching sight of the traces of mascara staining your cheeks alongside your messy hair. The sight being enough to make you call out his name incoherently as your eyes rolled back. Legs shaking violently as you clenched around him. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh—“ you chanted, letting out a broken scream as you squirted messily. Completely drenching Toji’s cock in your wetness.

Toji’s movements stilled, his fingers digging into your hair with a sharp tug upwards. “Oh i’m sorry? Did i say you could cum baby?”

“Sorry, nngh- c-couldn’t hold it.” You hiccuped, knowing that you were in trouble.

Toji shook his head, pulling you back so you lay flat across the seat. Shoving one of your legs up beside your body with a grunt. A shiver raking through your body as the cool air breezed through your sopping pussy.

You let out a groan, your attempt to close your legs stopped by Toji’s strong hands shoving them apart. Groping at both sides of your ass before his palms made contact with the skin. A bubbly whine catching in your throat when you tightened around nothing.

Toji sunk to his knees on the ground outside, the forest to his back as he began pressing soft kisses to the sides of your thighs, his tongue licking a long stripe up your slit.

He groaned, grip tightening on your thighs when his tongue darted out once more to lap at your sweetness. Sloppily running between your folds before swirling around your clit. It didn’t take long to get you where he wanted you. The overstimulation going straight to your foggy brain as Toji got lost in your heat. His eyes fluttering shut with a hum as he tried to pull you impossible further onto his tongue. Your constantly flowing slick mixed with his saliva dripping sloppily onto the ground below.

Your fingers clawed at nothing as you began to tremble, crying out loudly as your eyes closed shut. Your tear stained cheek pressed into the seat as you drooled adorably. A smirk adorning Toji’s face when he curled his thick fingers into you.

“Ahh— ‘s too muchh. Gonna cum again.” You mewled desperately, toes curling as another coil tightened in your stomach. Toji stopped sucking at your clit, pulling away from you while his fingers sped up. Paddy tips poking directly into your spot with ease. “Yeah? Gonna cum for me already?”

You answered with a high pitched moan and a small “uh huh”, feeling yourself being pushed closer and closer to the edge before it all came crumbling down. Toji removing his fingers before standing up, and only then did you notice how much of his chest was on display. He leaned down to kiss away your tears, brushing away any hair stuck to your forehead. “Only good girls get these privileges baby, i’m a cop, you should know this.” He cooed.

His cock prodded at your hole, sinking into his rightful place deep within your warmth before beginning to fuck into you. He knew your orgasm had barely just died down, and he was going to fuck you to another just to leave you hungry.

Your boyfriend’s head found its place in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your ear before he grinned against your skin. “You won’t be leaving the house for days when i’m done with you.” He promised, tone gruff as he felt his cock twitch in indication of his own high.

“Haah— ‘s so muchh.” You breathed as you melted into him, his touch hot on your skin leaving short quivers in its wake. “Toji— o-oh fuckk.” You were sputtering out strangled noises of pleasure, Toji’s husky groans in your ear adding fuel to the fire as you let out a cry. Your pussy gushing onto him before your orgasm could even hit.

Toji cursed loudly, his grip on your hips allowing him to pull you back onto him as roughly as he was slamming into you. “That’s it baby, pussy’s gripping me so fucking tight.”

“‘M so close— so so close.” You gasped, basking in the small skin to skin contact of your hands on his exposed chest.

“Gotta fucking earn it. Tell me, who do you belong to princess. Who owns this slutty little pussy hmm? Who fucks you this good every night?” He questioned darkly, rolling his hips in a way he knew would drive you crazy.

“Y-you. You do. ‘S all y-yours— fuck. Please can i cum? Need to cum so bad.” You almost sobbed, Toji kissing your cheek sweetly with a breathy moan. “All mine. All fucking mine. Go ahead slutty girl. Cum f’ me.”

You let go noisily, vision clouded as your moans spilled uncontrollably past your lips. The burning sensation in your stomach slowly easing as you allowed yourself to let go. Making a mess on the man’s cock while he worked himself deeper inside you. Burying his cock as far as he could before pumping you full with a contented sigh.

“Let everyone know that you’re taken. Get you pregnant with my kid and keep you locked away. Only for me.” His cum painting your walls in hot spurts as his abs tensed. The throb of his cock slowly dulling as you milked him dry.

You whimpered, feeling the thick substance slowly seep out of you when he pulled out. All the alcohol finally catching up to you as you slipped in and out of consciousness. Letting your eyes blink shut before you went limp in his arms.

Toji groaned with a stretch, smirking down at you and your fucked out form.

So pretty.

He tugged down your dress and tucked himself back into his pants. Removing your hand cuffs before taking you into his arms gently. Laying you down more comfortably with a quick kiss to your forehead. Watching as your chest rose and fell softly, face contorted into a peaceful one despite how stained it was from your tears.

He slipped into the driver’s seat, allowing the car to reach the perfect temperature for you to rest it. Finally pulling off from the side of the road. He laughed shortly when he checked the time, contemplating whether he should even bother going back to work. He’d much rather stay home with you.

He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, rolling his eyes when he saw the name written across the screen. Satoru.

“Hello.”

“So, fucked her good didn’t ya? Made your girl cry huh Fushiguro.” The white haired man laughed into the call. Gojo had been tempted to say it over the radio, but he didn’t know if you’d be awake or not.

“That’s why you sent me out there isn’t it?” Toji scoffed, one hand on the steering wheel turning it into your apartment complex while the other worked the gear. If you were awake you’d be going crazy. Him driving was one of your many weaknesses.

“Yes, and you’re welcome. Tell her i said hi when she gets up. Bye Fushiguro~” The call beeped to an end and Toji shook his head, trying to hide the small smile creeping up onto his face. Fucking Satoru.

Glancing back at you he allowed himself to openly smile, he could never stay mad at you. It was time to show you that.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #toji fushiguro x reader smut #toji x reader smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader

[keets-writing-corner]

Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??

As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue

the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD

He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.

like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...

The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"

and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it

does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING

like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow

For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat

Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation

Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with

Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)

But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time

Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell

Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch

idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room

#hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #analysis #dissociation #look idk what to tell you all #I watched the episode and everything makes so much more sense #when you realize he's only intaking like 50-60% of the conversations #he's not bad at listening his brain is literally preventing him from getting everything #literally I've been there #the difference between him and me tho #is that he can't show it #he's the king of hell #he has to bluff his way through conversations #but yeah literally rewatch the episode with this in mind #and watch him reply to the things he DID catch #anyways #NEW BLORBO???? #who'd've thought I would go into Hazbin Hotel #and come out with freaking LUCIFER as my favorite character #I love him #he's so sad

[tonycries]

Never Ever Seen This Before!

Synopsis. There’s a first time for everything - including trying out dirty little kínks with them.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, cóckwarming, mating press, oral (female + male receiving), manhandling, marking, spitting, bóndage, spanking (Nanami’s), dynamics, degradation, cúmplay, squírting, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.6k

A/N. *sigh* can’t believe I deleted this before. If you know, then YOU KNOW.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Stay still, goddammit!

Was being stuffed full of your boyfriend’s thick cock at all times really too much to ask? You think not. 

Toji, however, really didn’t see the point.

“But, doll.” he groans, dragging his tip lazily in-between your swollen folds. And it was so sloppy - slick trailing down his length, smearing across the sheets. “Jus’ wanna fuck your pretty lil’ cunt.”

It’s not that Toji doesn’t like the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his cock. No, he loves it - is addicted even. And he loves it especially when you attack him in the morning like this - his pretty girl, all splayed out on her side, barely even blinking the sleep out of her eyes before you ache for his dick. 

But, really, what’s the use of staying still - he’d rather fuck you till you’re breathless and creaming around his cock.

“Toji, you promised we’d try. Jus’ want to be stuffed full of your cock.” you pout, batting your lashes behind at him. “Don’ make me go on a sex ban.”

Oh, you little minx. He knew all your dirty tricks - yet, fell for them each time anyway. “Fine. Then fucking-” he lifts your legs a little higher, hips pulling back ever-so-slightly. “Take it.”

You barely even hear the rest of his sentence because Toji’s immediately bullying his throbbing dick into your pussy. Pushing against the resistance as you struggle to take his thick cock, not stopping till he’s buried all the way in your wet cunt.

Smirking at the way you mewl and grind your hips back into his, he wraps two muscled arms around your waist, holding you still on his cock. Murmuring in your ear, low and gravelly, “Not s’pposed to move, doll. Remember?

God, he knows you feel the way he twitches inside your dripping cunt at the way you whisper out a shaky little, “Y-yeah. No moving.”

And stubbornly you grit your teeth, being able to do nothing more than clamp down so deliciously on Toji’s pulsing cock as you stay still, relishing in the burn of him stretching you impossibly.

And maybe it’s been minutes - or even hours, because God did it feel that way to Toji as he watched you being broken by the mere feeling of being split apart on his cock. Patience slowly waning, he snakes down a hand to your poor, forgotten clit. Index tracing lightly over the sensitive bud. 

“T-Toji what-” you immediately jolt, finally getting an ounce of the friction your cunt has been aching for this whole time. Mindlessly grinding into his erection - only to be stopped by a large hand on your hip. 

“No moving, doll. Remember?”

“But-”

“Didn’t say anything about playing with your pretty lil’ clit now, did you?” he hums, knowing you were playing right into his hands. “Now. Don’t move.”

Ah, you can do nothing but lay there and take it as Toji presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Fingers starting to press, frantic, hard little circles on your swollen clit. Over and over- Like he was fucking you with his fingers the way he couldn’t with his dick. 

Ugh, damn him. Damn him and his fingers that knew you so well.

It was maddening.

“Toji- please.” you sob out, powerless against the bruising grip keeping you in place. You wanted to move. You wanted him so bad. 

“‘Please’ what?” he grunts. Clearly torn between focusing on drawing steady, agonizing patterns on your clit and fighting that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy over and over. Not stopping till you were cockdrunk and crying to cum.

“Please just fuck me- ah!”

Oh, you didn’t have to tell Toji twice. Because in one, fluid move, Toji’s pulling back, fucking you with harsh, jerky little movements of his hips. Twitching balls smacking you with each thrust. Not even caring to wait and let you adjust because fuck cockwarming, he’s wanted this so long and your needy lil’ pussy is milking him so good- “Shhh, it’s okay, doll. We have lotsa time to practice.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - So mean!

Nanami Kento was a gentleman. Always holding the door open, guiding you through crowds, gifting you bouquets even when there wasn’t a special occasion. 

The only problem was that Nanami was a gentleman even when you didn’t want him to be. Even when what you really wanted was for him to push you down and tease you till you were crying and begging for his cock. 

Like right now - kissing softly down your neck, large hands trailing across your skin as he lays you gently on your bed. Long fingers dipping into your soaked panties, drawing delicate patterns on your quivering thighs. But you’re not in the mood for delicate.

“K-Kento!” you whine, hips bucking into his featherlight touches. “Can we ah- do that thing we talked about?”

“I don’t want to hurt you, darling.” he murmurs against your skin. 

You let out a pouty whine, one that you knew would make him break. “But I want you to, Kento. Wan’ you to break me. Please.”

He lets out a resigned sigh, running a hand through his hair. A loaded second of silence passes. One. Two. And just as you’re about to admit defeat, surprisingly, it’s Nanami that breaks the silence. “Fine then. Face down, ass up if you want to act like such a lil’ slut.”

You scramble to do what he says, mind reeling from the fact that oh this was Nanami - the same Nanami who’d never raised his voice or ever called you anything other than terms of endearment.

“Hm, good.” he grits out.

And that’s all you hear before a deafening rip! rings through the heady room. Looking back in shock, you realize with a jolt that Nanami had your tattered panties in his hands, your dripping cunt on full display for him. 

As he positions himself behind you, resting his swollen cock the curve of your ass. Mindlessly, you push back against the feeling of Nanami’s achingly hard cock, hot and heavy on your skin, precum smearing everywhere. “Ken-”

Smack!

“Not Kento, darling.” he murmurs, palms smoothing over your ass. Lips kissing down your spine, in a way that would be so sweet if it wasn’t for the way he had you under his mercy. 

You let out a strangled moan at the sharp sting, his large handprint searing into your skin.  “S-sir?” you whisper, almost-experimentally. And oh was it the right answer - because he groans appreciatively, dick jumping so animalistically at the term leaving your swollen lips. 

“Oh? So my slutty girl does know how to be good, huh?” he murmurs, voice so uncharacteristically dangerous. Hands spreading your swollen folds to take in the sight of your wet pussy. “Shit. Since m’feeling so nice, count to five n’ I’ll fill that tight lil’ cunt with my cock.”

You barely have the time to wonder what he means before you feel a sharp slap against your ass. Forcing you to yelp out a strained little, “O-one, sir.”

Nanami hungry eyes greedily take in the fat tears clinging to your lashes, hips bucking into his for more. Your mouth dropping into such a delicious little oh! as you’re torn between pain and pleasure. 

You were so sweet falling apart underneath him that he can’t help but do it again. Smack! And again. Smack! 

“Two. Hah! N’ t-three.”

Good, now it was time to put his good girl to the test. 

With a low hiss of appreciation, he drags his throbbing cock across your wet folds, gathering your sweet juices on his tip. At the same time, Nanami’s hand connects with your ass again. Hard. Smack! 

“Ah! Oh-”

“Count.”

“Four! Ngh- four, sir.”

Nanami’s amusement spikes at the way you were so desperately rutting into his cock. And, well, what his pretty slut wants - she gets, right?

Several things happen at once,  he swiftly raises his hand for a final, hard smack. Hips reeling back ever-so-slightly to ram his cock into your snug cunt at the same time. Smack! 

“Ah! Kento- Kento hgnh- shit feel s’good inside me.” you mewl, drunk off both the sharp sting on your ass and Nanami bullying his thick cock into your tight pussy, filling you up so good. 

But not for long - because as soon as he was stuffing you full of his cock, Nanami’s pulling out just as fast. Your pussy clenching around nothing as you whirl behind to pout at him. Only for whatever whine to get stuck in your throat at two fingers shoving something flimsy and wet in your mouth. Forcing you to taste yourself.

Gagging around your soaked panties, a jolt runs down your spine at the positively feral glint in his eyes. Blinking away the tears in your eyes to take in the cruel little smile playing on his lips as he leans in closer to whisper, “My lil’ slut can’t even seem to remember what to call me, huh? I think she should be punished.”

Oh.

What have you done?

♡ GETO SUGURU - Drown me in it!

Geto Suguru has done it all - folded you in half, stuffed you full from all ends, had you begging and crying for more underneath him. He can confidently say that he hasn’t shied away from ticking off everything on the list.

That is until one random night in the shower, when he gets an epiphany - oh shit, Geto hasn’t made you squirt yet. Yes, it was the sudden image of you covering him in all your sweet juices. But more importantly - how dare he let his pretty girl go so long without cumming so hard you see the pearly gates of heaven? 

So - like any good boyfriend - Geto has you splayed out on his navy sheets, your legs in the air, his painfully hard cock buried in your dripping cunt. 

“Hngh- please. Shit shit shit m’cumming-” you whine, hips bucking wildly into his. Tears streaming down your face, clenching so hard around his dick that it makes it hard for Geto to thrust in and out at his steady, torturous rhythm. Fucking you through- which number orgasm was this again? 

Ah, it doesn’t matter - because you didn’t squirt. Again. 

“Awww…” you can barely hear his words over the blood roaring in your ears. “Didn’t squirt on that one either. C’mon now, my love, I know y’can do it f’me.”

Not wasting a second, Geto’s ramming his cock into your snug cunt once more. Heavy balls stinging your ass with each thrust - not even easing you into it any more because oh your little sobs were so pretty. Squirming and bucking into his touch despite your protests. “S-Sugu- I hah-, can’t-”

Now, as much as Geto loved your smart mouth - he loved it even more when you’re cockdrunk and babbling underneath him. Huffing out a laugh, he murmurs in your ear, “Yes, my love?” Veins grazing that one spot. Hard. “Can’t what?”

“Can’t cum anymore!”

Well - greedy gaze drinking in the way your swollen cunt swallowed him up so well, slick dripping down to his twitching balls - Geto begged to differ.

“Shut up. You will.” he mutters, shifting the angle to hit that one spot that has you gasping and bucking your hips for more. Your fists bunching up the soaked sheets below you, fucking yourself desperately into his throbbing cock. Curling deftly against that one spot. Over and over-

“Close, my love?” Geto sing-songs, “Think this could be the one?”

And oh does he find out. Because you’re cumming again - stars behind your eyes, walls clamping down so sinfully as he fucks you through your high. Your nails claw at his shoulders in an effort to get him to fucking slow down - but no, Geto is ruthless with his abuse. Hips faltering only once you show signs of your high bating. 

And before you can even react, your boyfriend’s starting his movements again. Milking himself on your heavenly pussy. 

You can’t even form coherent sentences at this point, only fucked-out whimpers leaving your swollen lips - it’s been like this for hours now. You’ve cum more times than you can probably count, yet here Geto was - not even once tonight. A slow, agonizing torture for the both of you. All because he wanted you to fucking squirt.

His thumb was ravaging your sensitive clit, pleasure nothing more than tingles now as Geto fucking ruins you. Hips bullying his thick cock into your heated pussy, thrusts no more than sloppy little movements. Your pussy dripping onto your bedroom floor.

Unforgiving. Geto Suguru was absolutely unforgiving. 

“C’mon, my love.” his words were so sweetly whispered in your ear - barely audible over your cries. Geto nips at your earlobe, purring lowly, “Squirt on this one, n’ I’ll fill your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum like you want s’bad.”

And then, it happens - something snaps.

Your orgasm crashes through you. So violent and hard that you see flashes of white behind your eyes. You cry out, trembling as your sloppy pussy squirts all over Geto. Covering him in all your sweet juices till his abs are glistening with your slick. Dripping down his body and absolutely soaking the sheets below.

And oh how he was entranced. Geto barely registers his own orgasm, hips faltering as he pumps thick, hot ropes of seed into your quivering cunt. Cumming at the mere sight of you creaming on his cock. His pretty girl was so gorgeous squirting all over him.

It was so so worth edging the both of you to the brink of insanity. He thinks his only regret was not having you squirt all over his face too.

Well…now he only had to see if he could do it twice.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Lollipop!

Shit, you thought your best friend would have a huge dick - but this was ridiculous. 

So intimidatingly long and pretty, swollen tip flushed your favorite shade of pink, matching his blushing cheeks. Beads of precum leaking down, down, down the side so mouth-wateringly as you seat yourself in-between those sculpted thighs.

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” Choso hisses, despite the way his cock throbs animalistically in your soft hands. 

You raise a brow, batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently. “Are you sure, Cho? S’your first, after all.”

He should say no. He should laugh it off as a joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wanted to see your pretty lips wrapped around his dick. Have you choking and gagging around him. So, any rationality thrown out the window, Choso nods slowly. Entranced. 

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, hot breath making his angry cock twitch “Thought so.” 

“But are you su- hngh!” Whatever sentence at the tip of his tongue is cut off as you spit on his length. Once. Twice. Your palms smearing the saliva along his throbbing length. Enough of an answer. And then there’s no more talking. 

Choso’s mouth drops into a fucked-out little oh! of disbelief as your tongue darts out to collect the saliva and precum pooling at his head. 

Moaning at his slightly salty taste, you take in as much of him as you can - inch by fucking inch. Not stopping till your nose meets the small tufts of black hair at this toned pelvis. Because this was your devastatingly sexy best friend and he deserved the best. 

God, Choso already thinks he could pass out. 

Heavy balls squeezing so painfully, his veins graze against the roof of your mouth as you start bobbing your head at a quick, ruthless pace. Milking Choso’s pretty cock for all he’s worth. Not even easing him into his first, because fuck only one taste and you’re already addicted. 

So, really, it only makes sense that Choso was the same. “Oh- Oh fuck! Feels s’good hngh-” he babbles, hips bucking up involuntarily into your warm, plush mouth. “Shit shit shit oh-.” 

Was this what heaven felt like? He really was missing out.

“Oh, fuck. Yeah, feel s’good around me, sweetheart.” he groans, as you tongue at his sensitive slit. Fingers digging into the soft armrest while he tries to keep himself together.

You notice - of course you do - because soon enough you’re grabbing his arms to rest on your head, teary eyes blinking up at him so sinfully as you suck the soul out of him. 

In a split-second, Choso’s carding his fingers through your hair, holding you steady as he rams his cock down your throat. 

“Fuck- m’s-sorry, sweetheart. S’too ngh- fucking good.” his words slur together, drunk off the way you gag around him. Letting yourself be so used as he fucks your mouth so ferally. Not half the man he was just a moment ago.

By God were you a vision, he thinks deliriously - tears stinging your eyes, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth, lips stretching so lewdly around him as you take him in and out in and out in and- And if he angled your head just right he could see the bulge in your throat. Him - all him. “Sorry- ah! s’pretty hgnh- pretty when you’re full of my cock.”

“Gonna be m’first, huh?” he moans deliriously, “”Gonna let me fuck up into that pretty lil’ mouth whenever I want?” 

The only response he gets are your pathetic, wet gurgles, and the smacking of his heavy balls hitting your chin. This was heaven and you were an angel.

And that only makes Choso speed up his sloppy thrusts more. Each thrust deeper and harder than the last. Balls tightening, feeling his sanity crumbling away each time his throbbing erection hits the back of your throat. Over and over-

“Ah! Sweetheart- m’not gonna last long. M’close-” he lets out a guttural groan, tugging on your hair to pull you away.

But alas, you seemed every bit intent on ruining him. Because the only response he gets are your nails digging deeper into his milky hips, leaving angry, red marks in their wake. Ones for him to remember you by - not that he thinks he could ever forget this.

And that itself is enough to have Choso spilling into your mouth. Shooting thick, hot spurts of seed down your waiting throat. 

Messy. It was so fucking messy.

Heart in his throat, breaths ragged, Choso has to blink his vision back. And if he thought he was going to pass out before then he wasn’t ready for you to proudly stick out your tongue - showing absolutely no trace of his cum. Swallowing everything he gives.

“I-I think,” he starts, voice shot, “S’time for me to return the favor.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Drunk on you(r cunt)!

Why the hell would the King of Curses ever kneel down to anyone? 

Why would he ever wrestle your legs so shamefully open, dive nose-first into your pretty pussy, and tease you with his tongue for hours? Ignoring his angry, achingly hard cock for the sole purpose of making you cum and only making you cum?

But, well, that’s exactly what happened. 

“Oh- Kuna! Please-” you mewl, big fat tears dripping down your face at this point. Not knowing whether to move your hips away or buck up into his tongue for more more more-

“What now, brat?” he hums into your dripping cunt, vibrations making you squeal. “Complained that I don’t eat out your pretty lil’ cunt n’ now you’re acting so spoiled?”

Ah, there it was - that offhand little remark that got you into this mess. “B-but,” you whine, stars behind your eyes each time Sukuna laps at your sweet juices. “Didn’t think you’d be so mean-”

All you get is a dark chuckle as Sukuna sucks on your throbbing clit, so sensitive from his relentless abuse. Rolling his tongue over it so teasingly. 

Now, this might be his first time eating you out, but he knows exactly what you need - what you crave. And the way your body trembled under his touch told Sukuna everything about how you were brinking so dangerously close to the edge. Too close. 

“Please, Kuna! Wan’ cum s’bad.” you cry out, broken little moans of pleasure leaving your swollen lips. Ones which quickly turn into disappointed whines as he pulls away. Again.

“M’not being mean.” he murmurs in your ear, drinking in that adorable little pout on your face. 

In the haze of your lust-addled mind, you barely register the way he flips you two to lay on his back. Manhandling you further up the mattress you to be splayed out so sinfully above him - thighs straddling his devastatingly handsome face, hot breath hitting your dripping cunt.

“See?” Sukuna hums, tongue darting out to catch the obscene drip! drip! drip! of your slick. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “M’the best fucking boyfriend you’ll ever have.” And with that, he’s bullying his tongue through your swollen fold. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over-

“Ngh- feels s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Sukuna’s tongue. 

Why was he so reluctant again? Something about stupid fucking pride? Fuck that, Sukuna would be on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal.

God, you were pretty sure you’d be collapsing onto him if it wasn’t for the strong hand holding your hips. Grip almost bruising as he rocks you harder - more obscenely - on his tongue. The other snakes down to draw rough, frenzied little circles on your swollen clit - as if you weren’t losing your sanity enough

And maybe if you were in a better state of mind you’d have noticed that Sukuna was, too. Eyes half-lidded, slick glistening down his jaw, pussy-drunk and watching awe-struck at the sinful sight of you. Devouring the sight of you the way he was with your cunt. 

Fuck, why does this feel so good? He wasn’t even fucking getting off, but the more he made out with your sweet cunt, the more he could feel himself edging closer and closer to the edge. Rock-hard cock angry and leaking precum all over his abs. The great Ryomen Sukuna cumming in his pants from eating his pretty girl out? 

Shit, Sukuna thinks deliriously, he was gonna have to make you cum. Soon. 

“Kuna- m’close.” you whimper, voice so soft as if you were afraid of being teased again.

“Oh yeah, brat?” he mutters into your folds, “Want it s’badly, huh? Wan’ cum on my tongue?” 

The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Yes yes yes! Can’t take it anymore, wan’ cum. Make me cum, please!” you keen. Fucked-out little whines of Sukuna’s name leaving your mouth as he speeds up his movements.

“Then cum.”

And you are, clenching so lewdly around his soft tongue as you ride out your high on his face. Your juices glossing his lips so prettily. And oh Sukuna’s so entranced by you creaming around his tongue that he almost misses the feel of thick, hot spurts of his cum now pooling on his abs. Fuck, he was going to have to do this very often.

♡ GOJO SATORU - Break him!

Gojo always fucked you like his own personal sextoy. And now, it was only time for you to pay back the favor. Which is why you had him handcuffed to the bed, shirtless and splayed out to absolutely fucking ruin. 

“Hah, don’t worry, baby. I’ll be gentle.” Gojo chuckles, tugging on the metal cuffs. Still so cocky despite the way his throbbing dick was leaking all over his sculpted abs, twitching at the mere sound of your voice. 

“How nice.” you hum, sliding your pussy across his swollen cock, drenching him in your juices. “Because I won’t be.” And before Gojo can retort, you’re sinking down on his achingly hard cock, squeezing him inside your tight cunt as much as you can. 

“Shit shit shit, yes. Your pretty lil’ pussy feel s’amazing wrapped around me. You sure you can handle it all, baby?” 

You waste no time. Slamming down on Gojo’s leaking cock in one, abrupt motion, walls burning at the stretch as your ass meets his heavy balls. They twitch against you as you start moving in steady little bounces, sliding his thick cock in and out of your dripping cunt. In out in and out in and-

“Shit, baby. Fuckin’ me s’good ah! Hngh-” Gojo’s sinful moans come in ragged bursts. Fucking up into your pussy in shallow, defiant little thrusts to bully himself deeper and deeper inside you. But not for long - because you’re pushing his hips down, nails digging into the milky skin of his hips.

“Nope.” you hum, grinning at his pout. “Not till you admit defeat, Toru.”

“What defeat? That all you got, baby?” Gojo scoffs.

Stubborn bastard.

“‘What defeat’, huh?” you taunt. Leaning down so your breath fans his pretty face, “Said I couldn’t- handle it-” Each word is punctuated by you slamming down hard onto his swollen cock. Snug cunt massaging his veins as you pull up all the way - till his leaking tip is just kissing your sloppy hole, rocking your hips down hard at a punishing pace. “Look at you now, huh?”

You risk a glance into his eyes and oh- he liked it.

The great Gojo Satoru - revered like a God since birth - liked being treated like a mere fucktoy at your hands. Loved it even - if the way he twitched inside you was anything to go by it. Oh how you enjoyed being the one to bring him down to his knees.

Immediately, your hand reaches to grab the blindfold hanging haphazardly on his neck. “C’mon, Toru.” you warn, breaths ragged at the way his fat tip kissed your cervix. Tugging - hard - Gojo breath hitches in his throat as you whisper, “Jus’ give up.”

His pretty lips part slightly as you speed up your movements. Harsh, purposeful movements just to fuck his soul out. 

“God, fuck- hah. Nah, more talk than walk, huh?”

Your hand tightens around the delicate blindfold, relishing in the wet little gurgles that leave him at the pressure around his throat. Balls squeezing painfully as you hypnotize him with your heavenly cunt. Alternating between agonizingly slow strokes and a sloppy, erratic bouncing - edging him closer and closer to the edge. Only to shatter his orgasm and his ego. Fuck.

“I know you want to cum, Toru.” your sweet voice snaps him out of his reverie, and Gojo stares up into your hazy, powerdrunk eyes. “Just admit defeat.”

“No.”

“Toru.” you start, sultry and dangerous. “Admit it.”

He shakes his head desperately, tears peeking out through those long lashes. “No.” he repeats, jaw clenched tight.

A hand wraps around his blindfold, pulling him impossibly closer, not even a hair’s breadth between your sticky bodies. “Admit defeat, Toru.” your lips ghosting his, nipping at his bottom lip. “Admit defeat, n’ I’ll make your cock cum hard enough to see stars.”

And finally, “I hah- a-admit defeat.”

“Louder.”

“I was wrong! Was wrong, m’girl. Lemme cum please lemme cum-”

Throwing his head back, Gojo’s hips buck wildly into yours as you let him bully his dick into you with reckless abandon. Over and over- Using you just as much as you were using him. Not even an ounce of the God he was raised to be.

And oh does Gojo see stars - and you do too. Because with a strangled gasp of your name, he’s painting your snug cunt white with thick, hot ropes of his cum. 

Fucking his seed deeper and deeper, he fucks you through your high. Dazed blue eyes widening at the way your tight pussy was so overfilled, sticky seed dribbling out of you.  The sight of you creaming around his cock has his balls twitching exhaustedly. Fuck it was all too much. Flimsy handcuffs shattering with one pull, Gojo mutters raggedly, words sending shivers down your spine, “My turn, baby.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

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[tojirights]

bro i’m going absolutely INSANE over alastor 😻😻

so, how about when lucifer comes by the hotel, he subtly flirts w alastors girl. alastor is on the verge of going apeshit and almost leaves charlie fatherless.

instead of murdering anyone, he decides to take his frustrations out on his darling, leaving bite marks and hickies on spots just visible enough for lucifer to notice next time he comes by..

a/n: im OBSESSED 😍😍

alastor immediately recognized lucifer as competition on multiple fronts. obviously, the king of hell was a threat in terms of power level, and alastor hated that. but alastor also quickly hated how charming the devil was.

upon meeting you, lucifer takes your hand and bows, placing a kiss on your hand as well. alastor's eye twitches, watching someone else put their dirty little hands and mouth on what is his. "my, what a pleasure. you're helping charlie? that's lovely! means i'll get to be seeing you around more, huh? she didn't mention such a pretty little thing was her hotel manager." lucifer speaks to you, a cool smirk on his face. he's clearly interested in you, and while alastor can't blame the man, he's seething with rage. clearing his throat, alastor takes a step towards you and reaches a hand out to lucifer in an attempt to shift his attention.

"alastor." he speaks, barely containing the anger in his voice. "it truly is an honor to be meeting you, sir." you raise a brow at the tense interaction going on in front of you but pay it no mind. lucifer gives alastor a tight lipped smile and shakes his hand. "ah, you as well. charlie has talked about you." you notice the way alastor glares at lucifer, yet keeps a smile on his face the entire time. lucifer turns back to you, putting a gloved hand on the small of your back. "now how's about a tour, hm?" he leans into your ear to whisper, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

behind you, alastor's horns grow and eyes redden, ready to risk it all in a fight with the devil and take out this whole god damned hotel if it meant lucifer never touched you again. "o-oh um, that's typically done by-" you start, but suddenly, charlie is running down the stairs with a panicked look on her face.

"heeyy dad! let's go this way, towards your room! it's late, you should rest." her smile is clearly fake, and you see her eyes dart from you to alastor and back to you. luckily, alastor reeled in his rage when the princess showed up and was back to his normal self on the surface. you can feel the energy coming from your partner, malicious intent painted all over his aura and you gulp. "al, c'mon... charlie's right."

alastor doesn't speak, but he follows you to your room for the night. the door is barely shut before alastor is lifting your legs and tossing you onto the bed. "care to explain why the fuck that little slimy king of hell was all over you?" he doesn't give you another moment to process before he's tugging your shirt over your head. "it's just harmless, al. you know i don't want anyone but you." you assure him, but alastor's teeth find your neck.

"i may trust you, darling, but i do not trust lucifer." his voice has a low growl to it that ignites your core. "but-" you gasp when alastor's mouth closes on the skin behind your ear, nipping it with sharp teeth. "no, because he and everyone in this place will know who you belong to." you shudder underneath of him, slight tinges of pain shooting down your spine at every nip and pull of your skin. alastor moves down your neck, leaving a trail of angry red and purple spots in his wake.

his tongue circles every bruise in an attempt to soothe your inflamed skin, but the marks just darken by the second. you hands dive into his hair, holding onto the silky strands. you feel alastor's body shudder as you circle the tufts of hair by his ears, making him press his hips to yours. "everyone in hell, my dear, is going to know that you're mine. not a single soul will ever try to touch you again." his breathing hitches, grinding his quickly hardening cock against your leg. you whimper when his teeth latch onto your collarbone, sucking hard and adding another welt to your skin.

"i want him to hear you." he hisses as he tugs your pants down over your ankles. its hasty, the way alastor frees his cock and pushes into your pussy, but you were more than ready for the intrusion. you cry out, suddenly being so, so full and alastor groans. "yes darling, just like that." your legs wrap around his waist, forcing every thrust just a little further until he's pounding at your cervix.

"d-don't stop sir." you gasp, eyes rolling into the back of your head while alastor's mouth latches onto the other side of your neck this time. "who do you being to?" he asks, hot breath fanning your skin. "y-you, alastor!" you whine, flexing your hips up to his in an attempt to build friction. "please, make me cum. only you feel so good." alastor peppers you in soft kisses now, ever grateful that you're willing to entertain the idea of letting lucifer know just who makes you feel like this.

alastor sneaks a hand between your bodies to rub skillful circles around your clit until your legs start shaking. "good, good girl. scream for me." he smirks when your tone shifts and he can tell by how tight you squeeze around his cock. "a-alastor fuck!" your body spasms, waves of pleasure rolling over you as you cum. alastor's orgasm follows shortly after, his teeth finding your skin once more as he spills deep inside of your pussy.

you have a brief moment of embarrassment when you think about just how loud you just were, your hand flying up to your mouth. alastor just laughs, placing a kiss on your forehead. "don't panic, my sweet. i think this little display will prove quite effective in keeping lucifers grubby little hands off of you." alastor pulls out slowly and carries you to a nice warm shower before tucking you in for the night.

---

"jesus christ, did you get into a fuckin' fight with a bear?" angel laughs when you walk into the kitchen the next morning. you were covered in hickeys all the way down your neck, and you were barely walking straight. lucifer refuses to make eye contact with you, especially after alastor walks into the room shortly after. "good morning everyone!" alastor chirps, smirking at lucifer who rolls his eyes and sips his coffee.

"well, there's the bear..." husk mutters, earning a cackle from angel.

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[ghoulphile]

sticky fingers | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; mildly dubious consent, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, rough sex, size kink, standing doggystyle, overstimulation, teasing, choking, dacryphilia, cooper howard is his own warning (he nasty y'all), canon compliant - takes place around ep 7, a grab bag mix of the show and the games ➥ summary | “Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.” ➥ notes | i love my men like i love my beef jerky 🫠 i wrote this over 16 fevered hours after finishing the finale. hope you enjoy~ minor edits 4/22/24 | x posted to ao3 | masterlist | feedback is always appreciated ❤️ feel free to send in thots, questions, requests!

It begins, as most things in the Southwest Commonwealth do, with a fight for survival.

City life is tough to be sure, but here on the outskirts of pocket civilizations where there’s nothing but long stretches of desolate wasteland - arid, sunbaked earth and scorched shrubbery - for miles around?

Well, if the ferals, fiends, and super mutants don’t get you in the night, then the desert itself will. During the day the sun burns overhead so nuclear hot, heat glimmers on the horizon in dancing waves.

Unforgiving, relentless as blink-and-you-miss-it mirages are swallowed by ever shifting sands.

It’s easy to get lost.

Even easier to boil alive in your armor if you’re unprepared.

Far too many travelers from the Eastern Commonwealths have met their demise here, where shade is sparse, and water even moreso. The rain - if it does blow in over the mountains - brings rad sickness.

If you’re lucky enough to still be alive, the only reprieve from the heat is in the stooped bones of bombed buildings and ramshackle shacks... where you're just as likely to catch a knife in the back from a chem fried addict as you are relief.

Because here, in the Wastes, danger lurks in sand and shadow alike.

You don’t trek out into the flats half-cocked: a fact all locals know. And if you do decide to? Well, you learn one way or another.

No, only the truly ignorant - or the desperate - dare to tempt man and nature.

Consequently, as you dust off the crumbs from the last half of a Fancy Lads Snack Cake and suck a melted smear of icing from your thumb, you're of the latter half.

You tried holding off for as long as you could. But once the shakes started, you knew you couldn’t put off eating lest you pass out and wake up in a slaver camp.

Well, shit, you think as you rattle a dented canister of purified water. This fucking sucks.

Almost going cross-eyed, your tongue hovers under the rim as you watch the last lazy drop fall free. You catch it with a grimace, smacking your lips. The water tastes metal warm in your sour mouth, barely enough to wet your whistle - let alone your thirst.

You began rationing the last of your supplies days ago, and it’s been a battle against light-headedness ever since. Pretty soon you won’t have the strength to defend yourself, scavving be damned.

Come on. Think - gotta think. What can I scrap for caps?

Not only is Filly more than half a day away, Ma June isn’t one for charity cases. The fact she offered twenty extra caps last time for some burnt books and bent bobby pins was as close as you were ever going to get to a Wasteland miracle.

Sunken cheeks and pleading eyes can only get you so far; everyone’s gotta eat.

"Fuck..." The palms of your hands grind into your eye sockets until you see stars. "FUCK!"

There are two unspoken laws in this otherwise lawless land: steal or starve, live or die. A grim reminder that surrounds you in old bleached bones, empty bullet casings, and scraps of cloth fluttering in the breeze.

Someone always has to be top dog. If you’re lucky, they might be willing to share their spoils.

It’s as you’re considering what pieces of yourself you’re willing to barter that you see them. On the horizon, coming from the west, are two dark blobs.

Stark against the flat plains - a shining beacon of salvation - is a man in a ratty duster and cowboy hat. The saddlebag tossed over his shoulder bounces with his steps while a dog trots beside him, its sable coat rippling with muscle.

Pay dirt.

Making sure to keep low and distant, you stalk them. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

When the sun dips low, the sky a swath of pale pink and gold, they make camp at a blown-out Drumlin Diner. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles and sickly clouds gather.

Dark and roiling, acid green; a Radstorm brewing.

Electricity cracks at your skin, stands your hair on end. You scrub your hands over your arms, huddling into yourself for warmth. Meanwhile, the stranger seems to luxuriate in the budding promise of rad rain.

He lounges under an awning, his back pressed against a defunct Nuka Cola fridge. He gazes in the direction of the oncoming weather while mindlessly running his fingers through the dog’s fur as it curls up against his legs.

Occasionally, its ears twitch, and its eyes crack open.

Whenever it glances in your direction, you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut but it never gives any other indication that it notices your presence.

A small mercy you’re thankful for.

While you’re a pretty good shot, your body is weak with hunger. Besides, you have quick hands and light feet. There’s no doubt you can stealth your way in and out before he realizes his pack is lighter than he left it.

You’ll only take what you need - not interested in causing any more trouble than is necessary. Some food, maybe something to drink if he can spare it, and something to pawn. Just enough supplies to get you sorted in Filly.

Anyway, he certainly isn’t hurting for it by the look of things.

Any guilt you felt was short-lived when he settled down after dropping his pack inside, walking out with an inhaler of Jet in one hand and a can of Cram in the other.

Watched, greedy, as he cracked it open and picked at the tin of meat with lazy fingers. Salivated as he sucked them clean in between deep pulls of chem.

Soon, you decide, licking your lips as he chews, swallows. Soon.

However when push comes to shove, the stranger proves far more keen than you give him credit for.

The world spins like a hit of Daytripper, a kaleidoscope of color as your skull bounces off the wall with a loud crack. Air rushes from your lungs as something huge - hot and heavy - slams into you from behind.

Pins you against the wall with ease as your ears ring.

Something rattles loose; your teeth too large and your tongue too thick. Warm metal floods your mouth as the side of your face throbs in time with the rabbit fast stutter of your heartbeat.

Pain sparks and your stomach rolls.

"Wha's?" you slur, thoughts dripping like wax. "Wh-at's..."

Meanwhile, a gloved hand lassos around your throat like a collar. Brute fingers squeeze the tender flesh of your jugular until you hear your pulse in your ears. Senses struggling - sluggish to adjust in the encroaching night - as tiny cavities eat at your vision, little pockets of darkness.

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal," a gruff voice mocks. “Betcha thought you was real slick, huh? Tch. You ask me, you’re dumber than shit, Darlin'.”

Trying to regain your bearings, you shake your head only to groan. “I don’t - ‘m not -” It’s difficult to concentrate, a throbbing tempo taking up residence in your temples. The words come slow. “Wha’d you mean?”

He whistles, long and low-pitched, "D’ya have any idea who you're fucking with?"

“N-No…”

“How’s about I show you, then?”

Warm breath puffs over the shell of your ear, a tongue sliding out to trace along the lobe. You jolt, squirming in discomfort as he crowds closer.

“Tasty lil thing like you, wrapped up all nice and pretty just for me." He chuckles. "Why, it must be Christmas.”

What the hell is he talking about?

It’s hard to breathe with his heavy weight suffocating you; the scent of gunpowder and bitter smoke clogging your nostrils with every labored inhale. His lips - ragged - scrape over the nape of your neck.

The grip on your throat squeezes once, twice; leather sticks to your sweaty skin.

You squint your sore eyes, taking in the faint flickers of firelight that spill through the open doorway. The desert chill of night has settled in, creeping through the busted out windows to dig beneath your padded armor.

Thunder rumbles directly overhead as lightning follows in flashes of acid green. It’s only a matter of time before sheets of rain come pouring down; the air sticky with humidity, trembling with energy.

The Radstorm has finally arrived.

You’ll undoubtedly get sick if you leave the shelter of the diner - might even die from it if you can’t afford or find any RadAway. But as the stranger’s chest digs into your shoulders, and the dog curls up in the corner - uncaring of your plight as its nose tucks into the whip-thin tail - you think you’ll take your chances.

Tilting back to glance at him from over your shoulder through damp eyes, you say, “Look--”

Only his hand moves, viper quick, as it slides from the front of your neck to the nape. Strong fingers clamp down like a vice, like scuffing an unruly dog.

He grinds your face into the wall, rough metal shredding your cheek.

You cry out, a soft, pained little thing that echoes through the empty diner.

“Now why’d you gotta go an' make me do that?”

A phantom glimpse told you all you needed to know; broad jaw, thin lips, a hollow nasal ridge, creeping radiation burns and cracked skin. Ghoul.

“Let’s try this again, Sugar.”

His free hand - sans glove - creeps over the curve of your hip to splay along the swell of your belly, fingers tucking up under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at the stroke of roughened skin.

“Don’t take another peep or I might jus' have ta pluck out those pretty eyes of yours.”

Dread pools low in your gut, a leaden ball.

Everything in you screams: RUN, RUN, RUN.

Alarms blare but you freeze. Stare straight ahead at the featureless wall, eyes wide and unseeing. Through the foggy mire of your thoughts - half formed and shapeless - you have enough presence to understand the precarious nature of your position. 

Heart hammering, you plead for mercy, “Please, I’m - I’m sorry.”

"Aw, ain't that real sweet?" He remains impassive, unmoved. "The little thief does got some manners after all."

Without warning, the sharp toe of his cowboy boot kicks apart your feet. In the ensuing empty space between your thighs, his leg slots into place. Spurs dig into the tender meat of your ankle, little kisses of pain, as his hips rut forward against your ass.

You choke on your spit, pulse jumping in your throat.

"H-Hey, that's..." You attempt to shove at any part of him you can reach to no avail. Built and broad with compact muscle, it's like trying to move a brick wall. "I said I was sorry, okay!"

He ignores you, burying his face into the space behind your ear. A deep inhale sounds next to your head, the expansion of his chest against your back so firm you're not sure you won't fuse together.

The whiskey rough groan he releases does wicked things, makes your mind wander to places it shouldn't. Full of grit and gravel as his cock twitches against your backside, a burning line of heat.

A shiver ricochets down your spine.

He grunts, says, "Mm, you smell good enough ta eat."

The cap of his knee nudges up against your clit with a sudden jolt, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a sob threatens to scrape its way up from the depths of your throat.

You swallow, mouth desert dry. "Come on, let's just forget all about this, yeah?" you reason. "No harm done. I'll even give you whatever I've got left so - so..."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration rattling through your chest. "So?" he prompts, plucking at the waistband of your trousers.

"So let me go?"

"Now why would I go an' do an asinine thing like that?" he replies. "If you think you can buy your freedom, think again, Sweetheart."

Rain pings off the metal roof, the smell of pungent ozone and rusting metal wafting in through busted windows and open doors.

“'Sides,” he pauses to turn your attention outside, “I’d hate ta have you yakin’ before the fun’s even started.”

There’s no way to misconstrue his meaning when he punctuates the statement with a teasing rut of his hips. Those rugged fingers tug open the clasp of your trousers, yank until the material goes slack and pools around your ankles.

“Hey, wait--!”

You jolt, hands scrambling for purchase as he slides his leg against your core. The friction of his pants through your thin cotton underwear makes you ache.

Ripping through your bottom lip, blood beading to the surface, you choke on a high-pitched whimper. "I..."

There's no way he can't feel your reaction.

How quickly you're getting wet as he drags you along the length of his thigh while yanking your hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. You meet him in a slow grind that boils your blood and steals the breath from your lungs.

It’s been - shit - far too long since you’ve felt anything other than hunger, thirst; the animal drive to keep pushing forward.

"You like this, don'tcha?"

You hear the dagger-sharp smile hidden in his words.

He croons, "What would your fellow smoothies think, huh? Here you are lettin’ a ghoul get you all hot n bothered - and you’re lovin’ it. Ain't you?"

You throb in response, heat stealing its way into your cheeks as you turn your head away in shame. His dark chuckle lets you know he felt the squeeze of your thighs, the rock and dip of your hips against his knee.

"I - I don't..." you stutter, struggling for a retort. “I’m not--”

A tremble works its way through your body, crushed as you are between the rad warm burn of his body and the wall. Completely at his mercy as you try to figure out where it all went wrong and what you can do to worm your way out of this one.

Terrified of what'll happen if you stay, terrified of what'll happen if you go; stuck in limbo as what was meant to be a simple grab-and-dash devolved into this confusing cluster of shame and lust.

You loathe the embers of desire kindling to life low in your belly.

"You really outta start bein' more honest, Sweetheart."

A large hand dips beneath the worn band of your underwear, and you wait with baited breath. Helpless as calloused fingertips brush over the swell of your mond.

Your inner thighs are uncomfortably sticky with slick, and your eyes burn in humiliation. Your throat trembles around all the words you want to say.

"Didn't anyone teach you lyin' was bad?" he asks rhetorically as his fingers slip down to play with the swollen bud of your clit, tapping lightly.

You keen, low and wounded.

Short nails dig into your palms as you flex your hands for want of something to grab onto.

“I am being honest,” you bite out through grit teeth. Sweat dapples your furrowed brow. “Just lemme go, please.”

"I find that hard ta believe," he replies. "Sorry to say, but you're shit at lyin'. Just look how hungry your lil cunt is for me."

It’s the only warning you get before those long digits plunge deep inside, two becoming three as they stretch you wide. Hollow you out; knuckles massaging your entrance as the tips prod along the sensitive front wall of your cunt.

You clamp down with a strangled moan. “Shit!”

This is a horrible idea - but it’s been forever and a day since you’ve felt anything other than your own touch.

Whether it be the bone-deep loneliness you’ve been shoving down for months or the sudden, inexplicable need for contact, you long for a reminder that you’re still alive.

That you’re not some wrath of the Wasteland filled with sand and blood, doing whatever it takes to survive in a place that would rather see you fail.

“I - I’m not sure.”

He snorts but offers no council or reassurances, using his free hand to yank at the back of your head in impatience. While it might’ve been a fairer fight if you weren’t in such bad shape, there’s no denying that he’s proven himself to be more adept.

Stronger, quicker.

This is going to happen either way.

And that turns you on - even though you feel like it shouldn’t.

If you give in, if he forces you to give in, it’s not really your fault then, is it? You can enjoy it because you have no choice.

Fuck it, you think, closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side in submission.

Like a doll with cut strings, all the fight drains from your body and you’re left sharing space. The ghoul is a furnace of heat behind you, barely any space to breathe he’s crowded so close.

His cock thickens where it digs into the soft fat of your ass, as large and intimidating as the man himself. “Now stay still for me.”

The or else goes unspoken.

Then he’s stepping away, a rush of cold air filling the empty space at your back.

You shiver, tempted to turn around. Maybe make a run for it. The only thing stopping you is the awareness that his threats aren’t so idle. In your experience, it’s far better to befriend the monster than to anger it.

So you comply, waiting an eternity as your senses strain to pick up on anything other than the murmuring hush of rain, the rumble of thunder, as the Radstorm continues to blow its way through.

Though just when you think he might’ve left, ready to chance moving, you hear the clink of a belt buckle clicking open. The scuff of boots across the linoleum before broad hands shove up under your shirt, scarred palms bare as they settle on your hips.

You tense before forcing yourself to relax.

“You ain’t as stupid as I thought,” he says. “Good girl.”

A test.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I can listen,” you mumble, keeping calm as his hands explore the plains of your stomach, pluck at the waistband of your panties. “Promise ‘m not gonna do anything else.”

Learned my lesson the first time. Got my skull cracked open for it.

“That’s what I like ta hear.”

Without warning, your panties are being ripped from you, scraps of fabric fluttering useless to the floor. You squawk in indignation but then a heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades.

He presses down, and you follow without complaint, finding yourself bent in half.

And then the fat head of his cock is right there, teasing at your entrance. He plays with your cunt, slipping the shaft between your wet folds. Dragging up the length of you to tap at your swollen clit.

Jerking in his hold, you whine and try to bear down with all your weight. “Please,” you squirm. “Please, c’mon…”

His grip remains firm, bruising as he exhales next to your ear, a pleased little grumble. “Thatta girl. Now tell me, who’s my pretty lil thief?”

Every hard ridge of his body bites into the softness of yours, your stiff nipples dragging against the rough material of your shirt. Zings of pleasure shoot through you; bursting in your bloodstream, fizzy like warm Nuka Cola.

“I-”

“Go on now, Sweetheart: say it.” Fingers dig into your hips so hard your bones ache. “Or I jus' might be tempted ta take a bite outta your pretty lil backside instead.”

He’s bluffing, you think, half delirious, … Right? He wouldn’t--

You swallow, throat clicking, and squirm against him.

Is that a chance you’re willing to take?

No, no it’s not.

“Y-Yours - I’m - I’m your little thief.”

The unexpected flare of satisfaction in his voice is almost your undoing. A hand pets down your flank, swatting the outside of your thigh playfully.

“Good girl.” He demands, “Say it again.”

Sharp hip bones kick forward against your ass as he lines himself up and starts to bully his way inside.

“I’m - YOURS!”

Your soft, gummy walls flutter, squeeze until giving in with a pop under the hard pressure of the fat head. His cock stretches you out, thick and girthy.

Ridges of scar tissue and patches of rough friction pockmark his shaft, massaging tender places as he fills you up, fucking you open.

He feeds you inch after inch… until he can’t.

“Wait!”

Accommodating his girth is a struggle, your cunt filled to the brim by the time he’s halfway inside. No amount of slick could make him fit, so he makes do with harsh little jerks of his hips. Forces himself deeper and deeper until he glides home nice and smooth, sheathing himself to the base with a sigh of satisfaction.

You clamp down hard with a hiccupy whine, walls furtively trying to push him out. “A-Ah!”

“Goddamn,” he huffs, hands kneading your ass, “You’re a tight fit.”

Tears prick your lash line, your hips shifting as you try to stop him from moving. Begging for a moment of reprieve. You’ve never taken something so big and thick, so textured before.

Coupled with the minimal foreplay, it feels like he’s punched his way through your body. Hollowed you out to make a home for himself.

Pussy aching, a low burning tightness creeps over your lower belly as tender flesh pulses uncomfortably around the unforgiving heft of his cock seated deep inside. You swear you feel him poking your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, heat settling into your cheeks. “J-Just wait a sec-ond! I can’t - oh shit.” 

“Aw, look at you.” Fingers reach around to brush over your cheeks, gather the tears that’ve slipped free. “Didn’t mean ta make you cry,” he lies.

The sound of him sucking his fingers clean reaches your ears. Your stomach swoops, and your clit throbs. Dazed as you wonder what his mouth would feel like on your pussy.

"Hah - too much, you're - fuck - you're too big."

He snickers. “Can’t be helped, I guess.” Body rippling in a shrug, his hands re-settling on your hips. “But that’s all right - I like it better when they cry.”

Before you can retort, he pulls his hips back.

Your toes curl in your boots, feet squeaking across the linoleum floor as your sweaty forehead grinds into the cool metal of the wall. The texture of his shaft burns as it slides through your swollen folds, dragging against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed.

You can’t tell if it’s the best you’ve ever felt or the worst, but you nearly sob all the same, nerves alight with liquid fire. Want him as deep inside as he can go; a frenzy of desperation that needs him to stuff you so full you choke.

“See for all your whining, you’re takin’ me so well. What did I say about bein' honest?”

You sniffle, blurry eyes creaking open to stare out the window.

Your body throbs in time with your pulse, your pussy so stretched out you can’t clench down when he thrusts in deep. The fat mushroom head teases your cervix, a faint whisper, before he’s drawing back again.

“T-Too fast,” you stutter, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Your thighs tremble, knees going soft. “Slow down, slow down.”

“Sh, you can take it. I know you can.”

With a grunt, he surges forward. Wasting no time in starting up a brutal pace that rattles your bones. He drives you hard into the side of the diner; tits crushed and face smashed, a disgusting mixture of tears and drool wetting your cheek.

“Just like that, Sweetheart.”

You do little more than hold on, all thoughts driven from your mind as he fucks you swollen and bruised. Cunt a sticky mess as your slick eases the way, clinging to your inner thighs and dripping down his heavy balls.

Every thrust punches little sounds from you, and he grunts. “Fuck!”

Your hands cling to the sides of his hips, focusing on the shift of muscle beneath heavy fabric. “I can’t,” you slur, eyes cloudy as you glance up into his, gazes meeting for the first time. “Please, I - ah!”

His thrusts turn punishing, even more so than they already were, hips meet your ass with enough force to leave bruises. “What did I say about sneakin' a peek?”

While the words sound threatening, his voice is heated and breathy. For all his talk, he doesn’t look away. In fact, his hips slow into languid rolls, grinding close. When your eyes slide from his, he reaches down to pinch your clit between his fingers.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides. “You keep those eyes on me.”

Pretty, you think, dazed.

Glinting in the slants of firelight like wet sand or a Nuka Cola bottle in the sun; bourbon warm as they peer at you from beneath a heavy brow bone.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl."

Eyes fluttering when he flexes his hips in reward, the tip massaging along your g-spot, your mouth drops open on a whine.

“O-Oh! Right there, I - fuck, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.” F-Feels s'good.

His bare hand reaches up to curl around your jaw, gnarled fingers pushing their way past the open circle of your swollen lips. They compress your tongue as they gather saliva, stroking along your tastebuds.

Gritty, rough; he tastes of dirt, blood, and gunpowder.

You sneak a kiss to his scarred knuckle when he pulls free.

“Shit, I’ll be damned. You’re just a nasty lil freak, ain't you?”

You moan in response, stretching up on your tip-toes and arching your hips to change the angle. Your palms rest beside your head, docile.

A crazed grin cracks the corners of his lips, his teeth bared like an animal. “I like that,” he husks. “Now be a peach…”

Then those soaked digits are finding their way between your thighs, ghosting over your skin to smear spit onto your abused clit. The tender bud throbs beneath his fingertips, swollen and begging for attention.

He hitches his hips forward to feel you jerk, pulsing beneath his touch as he resumes a fast, jolting pace that has you smacking into the wall.

“And cum for me.”

A deep rumble escapes his throat, the sloppy, wet sounds of him fucking you ringing loud in your ears. Your hips roll, unsure if you want to press forward into the swirl of his fingers or back into the rut of his cock.

Tears stream down your cheeks, your chest heaving with weak sobs.

“Please,” you whine, his shaft pinching your walls uncomfortably. You feel swollen, rubbed raw. “A-Almost there.”

A nip to the ear is all it takes.

“Hhaah, I’m--!”

The liquid heat that’s been pooling low in your belly - building and building - finally bursts in a gush of slick that soaks his hand. Darkens the crotch of his pants as it drips down your thighs to splash against the tile.

You sob, a full body tremor zipping through you like bottled lightening.

In the aftermath, your cunt twitches in time with your heartbeat. Hands numb and head full of cotton as cramps bloom between your hips. Sharp little stabs shoot up behind your navel.

“Shit, I’ve got myself a gusher,” he laughs, a nasty little smirk tugging at his lips. “Look at the mess you made. Now if you ask real sweet-like, maybe I’ll let you clean it up with your tongue.”

You sag, too boneless to be ashamed as electric aftershocks tingle along your nerves. All the while, his pace never falters, quickly fucking you into overstimulation.

Your clit twitches pathetically when the fat head of his cock drags along your g-spot. "No more," you mumble weakly, letting him maneuver your body how he likes. "Please."

“Heh, let’s see if you can do that again.”

You whimper, “Oh, oh, please n-no. I - I can’t. You’ll break me.”

“That’s real cute,” his lips, harsh and rasping, drag over the shell of your ear, “but I wasn’t askin’.”

The grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, digging in and marking you up.

“Now, why don’ we have some real fun, Darlin'?”

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout smut #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #cooper howard #fallout #fallout fanfic

[tinycoffeeroom]

café de paris | max verstappen

face claim: none ᡣ𐭩

request: here !

a/n: all french / dutch is google translated blame them if it's wrong! race order is completely random here !

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

📍café de paris, monaco

liked by bffstagram, friend1 and 294 others

y/nstagram me 🤝 café de paris

bffstagram bro those croissants look Fire ↳ y/nstagram my main source of sustenance in these hard monaco streets!

friend1 i have yet to see evidence of you shaking ass on a yacht miss y/n!! ↳ bffstagram so real... we're meant to be living vicariously through you!!! ↳ y/nstagram student finance doesn't stretch to yacht ass shaking, i can barely afford my daily caffeine fix 😭

friend2 oui oui hon baguette how is france? ↳ y/nstagram never let a monagesque hear you say that,,, bro i can't fight ↳ friend2 🫡 ... how is monaco?* ↳ y/nstagram 🫡 it's good!! def happy i chose here over france, even if my wallet doesn't agree 😭 ↳ friend2 we feeling fluent yet? ↳ y/nstagram oh god no, the other day this poor old lady tried explaining how to find the art museum to me and i just stared at her like 😶

friend3 spotted any f1 hotties yet? i hear they all camp out in monaco 👀 ↳ y/nstagram considering i have never watched a Single f1 race i couldn't tell you HAHAH i'm sure they're around here somewhere though ↳ friend3 dude i told you to brush up on f1 😭 how am i supposed to come visit you and have a meet cute with mr lando norris if you don't do your RESEARCH ↳ y/nstagram damn i see how it is,,, using me to get to your vroom vroom men,,,

3 weeks later

📍café de paris, monaco

👤 alexandrasaintmleux liked by bffstagram, alexandrasaintmleux and 270 others

y/nstagram finally found someone else to join my café de paris obsession 🥐

bffstagram next bff sweetie run while you can... ↳ y/nstagram stop scaring the pretty bitches off damn 😔 ↳ alexandrasaintmleux bffstagram she won't let me leave 😭 ↳ y/nstagram i deserve better friends ↳ bffstagram you couldn't live without us xx ♥️ y/nstagram

alexandrasaintmleux la prochaine fois, nous irons au casino ! (next time, we go to the casino!) ↳ y/nstagram finance étudiante a dit non (student finance said no) ↳ alexandrasaintmleux 😔 s'il tu plait... pour moi? 🥺 (please... for me?) ↳ y/nstagram pray for my wallet guys...

friend3 wdym you just casually befriended The Alexandra Saint Mleux??? ↳ y/nstagram i thought her skirt was pretty and had no idea she was like famous 😭 then we just kept running into each other !! ↳ friend3 i need to fly out to monaco damn you can't even see her in the pic but ik she looked So pretty... ↳ alexandrasaintmleux i like your friends y/n :p ↳ y/nstagram just wait til you see them drunk,,,

📍 jimmy'z, monaco

👤 alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris and 2,962 others

y/nstagram started the night in a night club and ended on a yacht,,, just monaco things (apparently) 🛥️

friend3 y/n if you don't answer my texts RIGHT NOW !!!! ↳ y/nstagram 😉 any reason ml? ↳ friend3 i'm gonna swim to monaco and bite chunks out of your ankles what the FUCK ??? when were you gonna tell me you were just casually hanging with [REDACTED] ↳ landonorris i'm guessing i'm redacted? 😎 ↳ friend3 i need to go lie down ↳ y/nstagram landonorris dude 😭 ↳ landonorris was it something i said? 😉

alexandrasaintmleux meilleure amie 💗 (best friend) ↳ y/nstagram merci de m'avoir invitée ! je t'aime ! (thank you for inviting me! love you!)

maxverstappen1 was lovely meeting you last night schat x ↳ y/nstagram you too max! don't forget to send me those pics of the kids! x ↳ bffstagram kids? ↳ y/nstagram his cats! jimmy and sassy! 🐱❤️🐱 ↳ bffstagram your knack for finding cat people never fails to impress me ♥️ y/nstagram

danielricciardo dude my liver actually hurts... ↳ y/nstagram hey you're the one who suggested a drinking contest ↳ danielricciardo yeah because i normally WIN you freak ↳ y/nstagram i'm a broke uni student, my drink of choice is normally vodka so cheap it's legally paint stripper

georgerussell63 carmen's phone died but she said to remind you about brunch today ↳ y/nstagram on it!! alex is gonna come round and bring me 😊

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, bffstagram and 2,938 others

y/nstagram met some VIC's (very important cats) today! 🐱 also f's in chat for my café de paris 😔

bffstagram f ↳ danielricciardo f ↳ georgerussell63 f ↳ landonorris f ↳ carmenmmundt f ↳ alexandrasaintmleux f ↳ maxverstappen1 f

friend3 babies!! the second pic oh i could cry ↳ y/nstagram she slept there for like 3 hours 😭 managed to actually sit through a whole gp though so a wins a win! ↳ friend3 y/n watching f1?? who is she?? ↳ y/nstagram their dad forced me 💔 ↳ maxverstappen1 um who cheered so loud when i won that she woke poor sassy up?? ↳ y/nstagram 🤐

charles_leclerc i didn't know café de paris do takeout? ↳ maxverstappen1 they do if you're me :) ↳ y/nstagram the only reason i'm considering keeping him around 😉 ↳ alexandrasaintmleux charles_leclerc and why have you never used your influence to get ME takeout café de paris "prince of monaco" ↳ charles_leclerc look what you've done... y/nstagram ♥️ y/nstagram

fan they're definitely max's cats but who is she? ↳ fan she knows alexandra so maybe they're in the same friendship group??

3 months later

liked by maxverstappen1, bffstagram and 308 others

y/nstagram working hard or hardly working 🌸

alexandrasaintmleux quand avez-vous passé votre examen ? (when's your exam?) ↳ y/nstagram lundi prochain,,, mon ami du café me manque 😔 (next monday,,, missing my cafe friend) ↳ alexandrasaintmleux nous fêterons cela quand tu auras terminé 💗 (we'll celebrate when you're finished)

bffstagram the red bulls... i wait 3 years white man does it in one week ♥️ maxverstappen1 ↳ y/nstagram hey! made him wait at least 2 months :p

friend3 the f1 book.. one of us one of us!! ↳ y/nstagram apparently i can't keep saying "the one with the red cow on it" when talking about his car,,, ↳ maxverstappen1 its a bull... literally a red bull... ↳ y/nstagram blah blah blah it's red and goes moo ↳ maxverstappen1 everyday i wake up to such disrespect ↳ charles_leclerc i'm just glad someone's keeping your ego in check ♥️ y/nstagram

friend1 when are you coming back to england :( ↳ y/nstagram i'm hoping to come visit next month! ↳ maxverstappen1 about that...

📍 jeddah, saudi arabia

👤 redbullracing, mine liked by redbullracing, y/nstagram and 1,928,385 others

maxverstappen1 First P1 of the season at the first race! Always grateful to stand on that top podium, especially today 🙂

see 14,936 other comments

fan sorry WHO is that in the third pic????

fan bro soft launching on a race win post...

y/nstagram trots op jou ❤️ proud of you ♥️ maxverstappen1 ↳ fan 🤨

fan did you guys see the way his girl jumped the fence to get to him after he won? relationship goals fr

schecoperez another red bull 1-2! 💪 ↳ maxverstappen1 you gave me a run for my money at the end there old man! ↳ schecoperez less of the old thank you

redbullracing rue when was this ↳ fan admin finding out about max's relationship at the same time as us is so on brand ↳ redbullracing and here i thought we were besties 😔 ↳ maxverstappen1 😉

danielricciardo you look hot in the second photo and it's not just the heat 😍 ↳ fan maxiel lives on ❤️

fan he tagged her as mine BROOOOOO who's got this man so down bad??

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, bffstagram and 194 others

🔒 y/nstagram account locked DOWN but it's so worth it for you ❤️

maxverstappen i'm sorry liefje i should have thought about this before inviting you... ↳ y/nstagram i don't regret going maxie,,, and i certainly don't regret hugging you after the race,, i knew what i was getting into, it's just a lot ❤️ ↳ maxverstappen1 ik ben gek op jou ❤️ (i'm crazy about you) ↳ y/nstagram mijn charmante prins ❤️ (my prince charming)

alexandrasaintmleux you do what's best for you ma cocotte 💗 honestly going private at the start of mine and charles' relationship was one of the best things for us ↳ y/nstagram the woe of being a wag 😔

daniel.jpg dude can you accept my follow request ↳ maxverstappen1 you followed her from your jpg acc but not your main? ↳ daniel.jpg never said i was smart ↳ charles_leclerc ^ ↳ georgerussell63 ^ ↳ landonorris ^ ↳ alexandrasaintmleux ^ ↳ carmenmmundt ^ ↳ maxverstappen1 ^ ↳ y/nstagram ^ ↳ oscarpiastri ^ ↳ daniel.jpg oscarpiastri HOW DID YOU GET HERE?? you haven't even MET y/n yet ↳ y/nstagram that's my son watch your tone. ↳ daniel.jpg i am very sorry miss y/n l/n PLEASE let me in ↳ y/nstagram oscarpiastri shall i? ↳ oscarpiastri lemme think on it ↳ daniel.jpg i hate it here

📍 suzuka, japan

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, y/nstagram and 1,394,582 others

redbullracing a quick look into max's garage! already over halfway through the season and your current world champion is on track for his 4th year running 💪

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maxverstappen1 you know how we do 👊

fan i see a y/n at the back!! ↳ fan who is y/n? ↳ fan his gf! she was first spotted in jeddah and she's been to quite a few of his races this year! ↳ fan do you have her ig? ↳ fan y/nstagram but it's private!

fan 4 time world champ incoming! ♥️ redbullracing

user lewis is gonna reclaim his title! ↳ fan ok gramps lets get you back to the home

fan best team in the world

user oh the gold digger is back ↳ redbullracing blocked, deleted and reported ↳ fan red bull stand on business ↳ redbullracing no one messes with OUR redbull girl! 👊

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 274 others

🔒 y/nstagram did you know red bull gives you wings? 👼

maxverstappen1 must have taken you forever to think of that caption ↳ y/nstagram what can i say you're dating a comedic genius

friend1 damn ma lend me one of those jackets xx ↳ y/nstagram omg pls take one he won't stop giving them to me,,, ↳ friend1 i'll take the white cap too if you're offering 👀 ↳ y/nstagram 🫡

bffstagram the third pic... y/n STAND UP ↳ y/nstagram he has the prettiest eyes 😍 my man my man my maaaaan ↳ bffstagram we've lost her boys...

alexandrasaintmleux i see the ferrari jacket 👀 ↳ y/nstagram max nearly threw me out of the room fr ↳ maxverstappen1 you deserved it ↳ maxverstappen1 also i'm burning it when you're not looking ↳ y/nstagram charlie gave it to me :((((( ↳ charles_leclerc yeah max you wouldn't burn sweet charlie's jacket would you? ↳ maxverstappen1 i'd burn you IN the jacket if you don't stop ↳ charles_leclerc 🫦 damn i love when you talk dirty to me ↳ y/nstagram ,,, alexandrasaintmleux should we leave them to it? ↳ alexandrasaintmleux after what you showed me on tumblr... yeah maybe we should

daniel.jpg loving the drip ↳ maxverstappen1 has she still not accepted your main follow request? ↳ daniel.jpg no... i know it's oscars fault somehow ↳ oscarpiastri why am i catching strays? ↳ y/nstagram i watched baku 2018 ,, you're lucky i don't block your jpg account ↳ daniel.jpg THAT WAS SO LONG AGO LET ME INNNNNNN

📍 zandvoort, the netherlands

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by y/nstagram, maxverstappen1 and 1,998,928 others

redbullracing and maxverstappen1 getting P1 and being crowned a 4 time world champion at the final race of the season AND your home race? max verstappen we tip our hats to you 💙

see 98,284 comments

fan him lifting the trophy and mouthing "this is for you" to y/n i am so lonely oh my god

y/nstagram mijn kampioen ❤️ (my champion) ♥️ redbullracing, maxverstappen1

fan max verstappen world domination!! lets go champ!!!

fan y'know maybe the dutch national anthem isn't too bad...

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by bffstagram, maxverstappen1 and 290,948 others

y/nstagram i moved to monaco for a degree in french and fell for a dutchman,,,

max, it has been a privilege to know you, to share your happiness and to love and be loved by you. watching you do what you do best fills me with so much joy and i can't wait to see you dominate the track for many more years. here's to you. ik hou van je, mijn kampioen ❤️ (i love you, my champion)

(also hi fans of max, i am very scared about being perceived by so many of you, please be nice ❤️)

maxverstappen1 mijn hart en ziel, ik weet niet hoe ik het in het Engels moet uitdrukken maar bedankt dat je in mijn leven bent gekomen, je maakt alles een beetje mooier. ik hou van je ❤️ (my heart and soul, i don't know how to express it in english but thank you for coming into my life, you make everything a little brighter. i love you) ↳ y/nstagram maxie 🥹 can't wait to celebrate you tonight ❤️

fan hi y/n!!! glad you felt comfortable enough to come off private! we're a nice bunch i promise! (at least most of us are) ♥️ y/nstagram ↳ fan also if anyone is mean to you i will do something that puts me on the national news 🫶

fan we've only seen glimpses of her on tv, max you bagged a baddie DAMN ♥️ maxverstappen1

fan mama y papa ↳ landonorris real ↳ oscarpiastri real

danielricciardo I'M IN !!! ↳ danielricciardo WAIT YOU WENT OFF PRIV??? y/n thats so mean wtf :(

alexandrasaintmleux mon couple préféré 💗 (my favourite couple) ↳ y/nstagram c'est grâce à toi alex, je t'aime 💕 (it's all thanks to you alex, love you)

👤 y/nstagram liked by y/nstagram, landonorris and 1,386,297 others

maxverstappen1 an appreciation post for mijn liefje. being able to put up with me dragging her halfway across the world nearly every month so i can drive fast cars whilst studying for her degree. graduated top of her class (with an elective in dutch 😉). here's to you and to us. (oh and happy 11 months, i may love you a little bit) ❤️

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y/nstagram my boy ❤️ could't have done it without your support ↳ maxverstappen1 i know, i am an Amazing boyfriend 😉 ♥️ y/nstagram

landonorris congrats y/n! knew there had to be a big brain in that ol' noggin of yours ↳ y/nstagram thanks lan! maybe i can actually teach you some french now 🤓

fan taking a long walk off a very short bridge

redbullracing congratulations to the brains of the couple! hoped you liked the gifts 💙 ↳ y/nstagram a dutch for dummies book, you think you're so funny don't you 😐

fan the flowers 😭😭😭

fan doesn't post about his championship but posts about his girl... need me a man like that

#max verstappen smau #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #max verstappen x you

[screampied]

23 MISSED CALLS.

☆ summary. you had always nagged to your boyfriend satoru to answer his damn phone. it’d always go straight to voicemail—you told him in your own words, ‘toru, what if something ever happened to you?’ but this time, it was far too late.

wc. 1.7k

tags. gn!reader, angst, nickname(s) 'baby, angel.'

an. idk how to write angst much but i was sad so came up w this. merry christmas :)

“hey heyy, it’s satoru. uh, you’ve reached the—eheh what does that lady say again…? you’ve reached the voicemail box of.. gojo satoru. leave a message after the beep, beeeeep. heh, bye.”

such a dork.

you lost count of how many times you listened to that automatic message over and over again. the playful cheekiness in his voice, you could just see his smile. the dumb dimples that poke out against both of his cheeks whenever he grinned.

a cute dork. your dork.

besides that though, it’s been at least twenty three times of you ringing him, but to no avail. each time it went straight to voicemail—sucking your teeth in confusion, you started pacing around your bedroom. it was christmas morning, and gojo promised he’d be here before you wake up.

he couldn’t be…

no, he’s gojo satoru. he always wins, right?

right..?

the more you waited, the more impatient you became. the room grew colder and colder, despite the heat being turned on. you sat on gojo’s side of the bed, inhaling his scent, as if he was here right now.

he’d always fill up the room with his loud cologne scents—you’re always telling him how it’s too strong and he always kisses your cheek, muttering, “eh really? i don’t smell it that much, baby..”

the scent was always sweet, a mixture of cinnamon and multiple other spices—you glanced at the roségold alarm clock that rested against your nightstand, the time reading six thirty am.

he still wasn’t here.

it was hard to not overthink, think the worst, gojo was always so good at calming your nerves. you’d be one to constantly overthink. his trick to stop that was to simply hold you in his arms, stroke your hair and tell you in a soft cheery voice, “hey angel, everything’s gonna be okay. i’m okay, we’re okay.”

but again, he still wasn’t here.

gojo mentioned to you before he left last night around midnight he had to ‘take care of something’ — his code word of he’s about to go into battle or fight, but he didn’t want you to worry about him.

that’s the very last thing he wanted. and if anything, he always assured you he’d be okay. even if he was beaten to a pulp by his enemies, he’d always return back home to you with that stupid lovable grin on his face.

so what made christmas day any different?

you swallowed the thick, nonexistent lump in your throat, trying to snap out of your deep melancholy thoughts. dragging your feet,

you rubbed your eyes from the sun just barely shinning through the curtains scattered throughout the house.

with a soft sigh, you made your way towards the christmas tree — the pretty lengthy tree the both of you decorated together last minute, a tiny smile went on your face at remembering how gojo kept accidentally breaking all of the ornaments, so he had to constantly keep buying new ones.

lights, glimmery multicolored lights, a plethora of ornaments and a pretty sheeny star sits at the very top. you sat on your knees, before glancing down at the various presents — one caught your eye, it was a tiny box. a velvet heart shaped box, and gojo told you it was the biggest surprise yet.

you paused, glancing down at your phone that was about it to die soon, wondering why gojo still hasn’t returned any of your calls.

he’s been gone for hours, and the knot in your stomach continued to tighten—it felt like something inside of you was squeezing, tugging you from the inside.

was this what a gut feeling feels like? something was telling you, screaming at you that something wasn’t right.

with shaky hands, you went to his contact for what seems like the millionth time, staring at the image that was his picture, him and you.

the both of you were being goofy, it was a old polaroid picture a few years ago of the both of you during your birthday.

he spoiled you so much that day, but as always he never forgot to repeat how much he loved you.

the phone rang three times and your mind pretty much knew mentally he wasn’t gonna answer, it was a bit foolish for you to continuously keep trying. but something in you told yourself, it’s satoru. he’s gonna answer. anything to reassure yourself, this happens a lot — gojo’s the type of person who always has his phone on silent, or he says he’ll call you back but ends up forgetting.

after a few rings, the same automatic voicemail plays, and just hearing his voice again, no matter how many times — it never fails to make your heart swoon.

“hey heyy, it’s satoru. uh, you’ve reached the—eheh what does that lady say again…? you’ve reached the voicemail box of.. gojo satoru. leave a message after the beep, beeeeep. heh, bye.”

you intake a sharp breath, closing your eyes before bringing the warm phone up to your ear, pressing it against your cheek before speaking in a voice.

a voice you hardly recognized, “…toru?” and you were on the brink of tears, it was easy to hear and you tried not to let your emotions get the best of you but at this point..

was it really worth holding on to?

fifteen long seconds passed and you forgot the phone was still in your hand.

you sniffled, gathering yourself briefly before continuing in a soft drowsy voice, “h-hey, um. i don’t mean to blow your phone up but, you aren’t responding and i’m getting kind of scared. are you okay?”

you pause again, feeling the sting of tears nearly escape through your eyelids before you squeeze your eyes shut, lightly squeezing your left thigh to prevent any more emotions from revealing themselves.

“i um, just wanna say i love you, and i hope you’re okay. i didn’t wanna open my gifts until you got here but you’re taking forever..”

and you manage to crack a tiny smile that purses against your lips—yet after a while, it fades and your heart feels like it’s just walking on egg shells. “but anyway, yeah. i love you satoru, text or call me back so i know you’re alright, please? and just get home safe okay? bye.”

you hung up the phone and a single tear ran down your cheek.

so much time had passed, and he still wasn’t here. it was nearly seven in the morning now, and your dumb curiosity got the best of you—you wondered what gojo’s big surprise gift was.

he wanted you to wait to see your reaction, but you were just so curious, so enthused.

you started to peel the pretty striped velvet wrapping paper off, one at a time, it was neatly wrapped with a perfect red and blank bow tied on the top.

once you opened it, it had a tiny black box, and your eyebrows raised, a note sticking out the side. grabbing it, you revealed it and it read in neat handwriting:

“hi baby!! merry merry christmas, i’m kinda tearing up while writing this, and i know i know you probably just wanna see the gift but first read this ‘kay? just wanna say i love love you so much, and i’m so glad we’ve been together for almost four years now. you mean everything to me, you’re so sweet and kind, always there whenever i need to talk my feelings out, or even if i just need to lay on you and fall asleep. but anywho, you know who loves you? this guy! hopefully i made you smile as you read this, im probably not at home yet but ill be back soon. don’t worry your pretty little head, alright? i love you baby, merry christmas from your honored one, xoxo.”

tears were in your eyes—and it was like you could hear him, he was right, you did manage to smile. sniffling, you placed the note aside before opening the small black box.

once you pulled the top back, your eyes widened, seeing a small coruscating ring. your heart sang, blinking twice to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

gojo was planning to propose..?

the ring was so pretty.

various scattered crushed up like pearls around the top, and once the tears started, they kept streaming down your face. you quickly pulled it out, sliding it on your ring finger and it was a perfect fit — in a frail sob, you mumble, “y-yes, i’ll marry you satoru.”

yet — that’s when you wake up, finally snapping back to reality. confused with tears still streaming down your face, burning.

“satoru?”

no answer.

you get up from the bed, your eyes widen before you look at your right hand — and the engagement ring was still there. a sigh of relief exits your mouth, and that’s when you make your way towards the kitchen.

nothing to worry about, maybe you just fell asleep while opening the gift. yeah, that had to be it.

although, the atmosphere of your house felt different. taking a quick glance in the living room, the christmas tree wasn’t there anymore, it wasn’t snowing, and it was almost as if you lived by yourself.

“satoru?” you called out again, before pulling out your phone — scrolling towards your messages and your heart suddenly sank. the last message you sent him was two years ago, a subtle ‘satoru, it’s christmas and you’re still not here? are you okay?’

christmas…?

you pulled a tab down on your phone — and the date read march 17th. approximately two years later from when you last sent that message, and you were so confused.

but the further you scrolled down, you saw messages from others, sending you their regards and condolences for your loss….loss?

the recent message was from geto — and your last reply was, ‘thank you, i’m doing okay. i just still can’t believe he’s gone.”

. . .

you felt sick — tear after tear racing down both sides of your face before coming to the sudden unfathomable realization.

gojo never came back home for one reason and one reason only. he died a painful death those long two years ago, even though he swore he’d come back to you on christmas.

perhaps everything was all a lie.

sometimes people don’t win all the time, not even the honored one, the love of your life, gojo satoru.

#★vegasbaby. #gege made me do it 😔 #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk angst #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #satoru gojo x reader #jjk fic #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk spoilers #gojo x y/n #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles

[waitimcomingtoo]

Just to Learn That You Never Cared

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Synopsis: always leaving class together to go fight crime leads people to think you’re dating when in reality you’re barely even friends. That is, until you agree to fake a relationship to keep your secret life a secret

requested/idea by @usoppsstar

Masterlist

“Oh, hey. Your girlfriend left this in class.” One of Peter’s classmates said as he tossed Peter a hoodie.

“Oh. Thanks.” Peter said before realizing what the person had said. He turned the hoodie over in his hands and recognized it as yours. His face warmed up in a blush when he realized you had just been mistaken for his girlfriend. He shoved the hoodie into his bag and wondered if he should tell you or not.

Peter saw you later that night on a rooftop you frequented often. You were in your suit, as was he, but had your mask sitting beside you. You were munching on a bag of chips and wordlessly extended them to him when he landed on the rooftop beside you. He smiled graciously and took a few before sitting down next to you. Your knees were touching but neither of you moved away.

“You left this in physics, dingus.” Peter said and handed you your hoodie.

“Oh, thanks. We had to run out of there so fast to save that lady. I must’ve left it behind.” You smiled gratefully and pulled it over your head. Peter felt bad that his high tech suit had built in heaters and your homemade suit was probably leaving you freezing every night. He wanted to suggest sharing his warmth, but he didn’t want to overstep.

“I know. Thank God she called the police on those kids for selling lemonade without a permit. I’m really glad we left a test to go witness that heinous crime.”

“It’s not all bad. We did get to see the cops arrest her for wasting their time by making a fake police report, which is always satisfying. And the kids gave us free lemonade. But I think calling it “homemade” was bullshit. I know Minute Maid when I taste it.” You replied, making Peter chuckle.

“You’re right. Both those things were enjoyable.” Peter agreed. “But I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I feel like we have to leave class every other day.”

“I know. Why did we have to pick a college in such a Karen ridden neighborhood?” You sighed.

“Because we wanted to go to the good school with the good science program. We should’ve known the neighborhood would be full of bored housewives who call the police whenever they have a minor complaint. It was our own hubris.”

“It was.” You chuckled and said looked over at him. You exchanged soft smiles before you looked over at the city horizon. Peters eyes never left you and he cleared his throat to get your attention.

“So, uh, my aunt and I were gonna get Chinese food later. At the place that got shut down for being a front for money laundering but that was really just a front for a second Chinese food chain.”

“Oh, I love that place.”

“Yeah. It’s great.” He nodded. “Anyways, you should totally come-“

Peter was cut off by the police radio he wired to his phone going off. He rolled his eyes and checked what the alert was.

“Damn it. Robbery at the bakery on 9th.” He told you.

“Lowkey, I’d do the same. Their cream puffs made me cream.” You said as you put your mask back on.

“Haha, yeah.” Peter chuckled. “Wait, what?”

“You should get some sleep. I’ll handle the robbery. But I’ll catch you tomorrow, Parker. Get home safe.” You saluted him before falling backwards off the building.

“I love you too.” Peter sighed.

“Did you say something?” You asked and popped back up.

“No.” Peter quickly lied.

“Okay. Well, see you tomorrow.” You waved to him and disappeared again. Peter let out another sigh before swinging home.

The next day, you ran after one of your classmates once class was let out.

“Hey, Carly. I emailed you my notes from the class you missed.” You told her.

“Thank you so much. You’re a life saver.” She replied. “Oh, and could you tell your boyfriend that band practice is in the gym today?”

“Yeah, sure. No problem.” You agreed. She was about to walk away when you realized what she had said.

“Wait, what am I saying?” You wondered. “Who’s my boyfriend?”

“You know. That guy with the prescription shoes.” Carly answered. You tilted your head in confusion until you realized you knew exactly who she was talking about.

“Wait, Peter?” You laughed in surprise. You expected her to laugh too and reveal she was just kidding but she looked completely serious.

“Oh, right. Peter. Why do I always think his name is Timmy?” Carly wondered.

“Because he looks like a Timmy. He gets it all the time.” You waved your hand. “And his shoes are not prescription. He just bought women’s platform shoes because he wanted to be taller and didn’t think anyone could tell.”

“We can.” Carly mumbled.

“I know.” You agreed. “But, I’m getting off topic. Timmy is not my boyfriend. I mean, Peter is not my boyfriend.”

“Whatever label you guys use, can you tell him that wind ensemble is meeting in the gym instead of the choir room? The sopranos kicked us out again to practice or do drugs or something.” Carly explained. You furrowed your eyebrows at her and tried to figure out if she was joking or not.

“The label? I’m so lost. Who told you that Peter’s my boyfriend?”

“Nobody told me.” She shrugged. “Everyone just knows that you guys are a couple.”

“Well how would they know something that isn’t true?” You asked and folded your arms.

“I mean, it’s not like you guys try to keep it a secret. Between all the whispering and staying close by each other. Plus you’re always sneaking out of class together or showing up late. And if one of you is absent, the other always is too. It’s been like that since high school. People just put two and two together I guess. Why, did you want to to be secret?”

“I didn’t want it to be anything. We’re not even dating.” You insisted and felt like you were going crazy.

“You don’t have to deny it.” Carly laughed. “I know feelings are weird and gross and stuff and you’ve never been the relationship type, but I think this guy is good for you. He brings something out in you. I don’t know. But you guys are cute. I love seeing the nice loser and assertive pretty girl troupe in real life.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.” You calmed down momentarily and smiled a little. Carly walked away and your smile quickly faded when you remembered what she had said. You looked around the hallway and saw another student holding an instrument.

“Hey. Band nerd.” You called out to him.

“Me?” He asked and pointed to himself.

“Yes, you. You had to let go of your saxophone case to point to yourself. Have you seen my boyfriend today?” You asked him.

“Peter? I haven’t seen him since yesterday in-“

“That sentence better not end with “wind ensemble” or I’m gonna lose it.”

“It was wind ensemble.” He said quickly.

“I’m leaving.” You shook your head and walked away from him. You pulled out your phone and went straight to your schools “campus sweethearts” page on instagram. Sure enough, there was a picture of you and Peter sitting next to each other right at the top of the page. You had your head thrown back laughing at something he was saying and he was looking at you fondly. You let out a shocked gasp and before walking out into the courtyard to look for Peter. You spotted him on a bench and smiled.

“Yes. Thank you, small campus”. You pumped your fist and went to sit next to him.

“Oh, hi. I was just thinking about you-“

“Someone is spreading a horrible rumor about you.” You cut him off.

“Oh no.” Peter frowned. “What is it? Is it bad?”

“Horrible.” You shook your head. “Peter, they’re saying you’re in wind ensemble.”

“Oh, I am.” Peter shrugged.

“Huh?”

“I play the clarinet . See. Clarinet.” Peter said and lifted up his little black clarinet case.

“Huh?” You said louder.

“I used to play in high school, pre-bite but post 9/11. I saw a flyer for orchestra on campus so I joined.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” You practically shouted. Peter knew you weren’t happy but felt strangely honored that you were so upset over him not telling you something about her personal life.

“Because I know how you feel about band nerds.” He replied. “And you and I don’t really talk about non-work related things. I didn’t think you’d care.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course I care.” You insisted. “My rumored boyfriend has been in wind ensemble this whole time and I didn’t even know?”

“Wait, rumored boyfriend? Who, me?” Peter asked in surprised.

“So you didn’t know about this either?”

“No. I mean, someone did refer to you as my girlfriend the other day but I thought it was just an accident. People think you and me are dating?” Peter asked and tried not to look as pleased as he felt.

“Apparently. I’ve had multiple people refer to you as my boyfriend today. And look. We’re on the campus couples Instagram page.” You said and held up your phone.

“Ew. We have one of those?” Peter grimaced and took your phone to see the picture better.

“Yeah. I honestly think the principle runs it.” You replied. Peter was quiet as he stared at the picture for a while.

“What?” You wondered.

“Nothing. This just a cute picture of us. And I think the only picture of us.” He said with a shy smile. You frowned and looked at the picture again before realizing he was right.

“Carly said people think we’re dating since we’re always sneaking off together.” You told him. Peter thought out this for a minute and then made another connection.

“Ohhhh.” He said and nodded his head.

“What?”

“This explains why the boys congratulated me on the bus back to New York after the Washington monument trip for losing my virginity at a historic landmark.”

“You lost your virginity on that trip? To who?” You whispered harshly and felt jealousy burning through your veins.

“You, apparently.” He laughed. “You and I disappeared to get the glowy alien egg bomb thing back and I guess everyone assumed we were off desecrating a national monument.”

“Oh my God. That was like 3 years ago.” You realized. “People have thought we were dating this whole time? We need to put a stop to this.”

“Yeah. You’re right. Or…” Peter trailed off and gave you a look.

“Or?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Or, we lean into it.” He suggested. “We let people think it. We encourage it, even.”

“Why would we do that?”

“People have been suspicious about where we go and what we’re doing since high school. We can only fake so many illnesses and I ran out of grandparents to lie about the death of by junior year. So if people already made up a reason, maybe we should let them think that. We don’t have to go out of our way to confirm it but we can keep the assumption going to keep them from finding out what we’re really doing.”

“So you think we should let people think we’re dating so they stop wondering about what we’re always off doing?”

“That’s exactly what I just said, yes.” Peter nodded.

“Hey. Be nicer to your fake girlfriend.” You said and smacked his arm.

“I’m sorry. I will.” Peter blushed and rubbed his arm. You felt bad for hitting him and wrapped both arms around him to rub them up and down. He smiled softly at you and you sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

“You play the clarinet?” You asked after a minute.

“Squidward made it look so cool.” Peter shrugged.

“Did he?” You asked, making Peter laugh.

“No.” He admitted.

The next day, you and Peter walked to school together with the understanding that from then on out, you were going to play the part of a happy couple. You weren’t going to go around announcing it to everyone or anything. You just needed to convince the few that didn’t already believe the rumor and confirm things for the ones who did believe it.

“You ready for this?” You asked Peter as you stepped into campus.

“I think so. Maybe we should hold hands or something. You know, since people think we’re dating.” Peter suggested and tried to make it sound like it didn’t matter to him.

“I guess so.” You shrugged and held out your hand. Peter eagerly took your hand and took note of the way it fit in his like it was made for him.

“This is weird.” You whispered to him, popping his bubble.

“Why? Are my hands sweaty?” He panicked.

“No. Just really, really hot.” You told him. “It’s just weird that nobody seems to care that we’re holding hands right now.”

“I mean, we are just two random people with almost no social presence.”

“That’s true. I guess I just thought people would care more.” You admitted as you looked around the campus. No one was phased by you and Peter, but he was too busy enjoying the moment to realize it.

“Are you disappointed?” He asked you.

“Yeah. I wore my best bra because I thought I’d be getting more attention today.” You frowned and adjusted the strap of your bra.

“It’s okay. I’ll take one for the team and stare at your boobs.” Peter assured you.

“Aw. Thank you.” You gushed and gave his hand a squeeze.

You got to your physics class and sat together at your usual lab table. Peter looked around the classroom while you carried on as usual.

“Maybe I should put my arm around you. You know, to really convince people.” Peter suggested with a shy blush on his face.

“Is that really something people do?” You genuinely wondered. “I feel like I never see couples with their arms around each other.”

“Actually, I don’t think I have either. But let’s try it anyway.” He said and wrapped an arm around you. You scooted closer to him so that you could comfortably lean into him. You quickly realized you didn’t hate it and let out a content sigh.

“Hm.” Peter made a little noise at the back of his throat.

“What?” You asked him.

“Our height difference makes this hurt my shoulder.” He leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“Then move your arm.” You whispered back.

“I can’t. I just wrapped it around you. It’ll look weird if I immediately take it off.” Peter said as he covered behind him to see who was looking.

“Or, consider this. Nobody in this entire city, and dare I say world, cares where your arm is right now.” You whispered harshly.

“Fine. I’ll remove it. But I have to give a reason.” He told you before loudly clearing his throat.

“Ah. Sorry, babe. I can’t cuddle you right now. My arm is sore from band practice.” Peter said loud enough for everyone in the classroom to hear him. You hung your head in shame and heard people murmuring about his strange comment.

“Oh God.” Peter gulped. “People are looking. They’re gonna know something is up. I have to put it back.”

He went to put his arm back around you but you stopped him before he could draw any more attention to the two of you.

“Just do this.” You whispered to him and pulled his stool closer to you and turned towards him a little. Your knees and were touching and you were now facing each other.

“That’s it? No one can even see this.” Peter said in disappointment. He thought being your fake boyfriend would bring you guys closer but you were sitting the way you always sat in class.

“It’s not about what people can see. It’s about proximity.” You explained. “We’re sitting closer together than anyone else is without being egregious about it. It’s a simple touch. If we’ve been together as long as people think we have, we don’t need to be wrapped around each other all the time. A simple touch to let the other know we’re there is all we need.”

Peter was silent as he stared at you following your explanation. He stared for so long that you felt yourself blush under the eye contact.

“What?” You asked him.

“I like the way you explain things.” Peter said simply. You quickly looked down so he wouldn’t see the effect that comment had on you and took a moment to collect yourself.

“It’s just something I thought of.” You shrugged.

“I know. But I never would have thought of that. Especially not as naturally as it did for you. You’re so quick.”

“Thank you.” You laughed shyly and found yourself unable to look away from him. Peter opened his mouth to say something to keep the momentum rolling but his phone interrupted him.

“Shoot. Sus-tivity on the b bridge.” He whispered.

“What the hell does that mean?” You asked at full volume.

“It means there’s suspicious activity on the Brooklyn bridge.” He rolled his eyes. “We have to act fast so I didn’t have time to say the whole thing.”

“But you just said the whole thing. And the abridged version. So it took twice as long.”

“Shh.” He waved his hand. “We gotta go.”

You reluctantly collected your things and took Peter’s hand to pull him out of his seat. Peter followed you out the classroom but the teacher cleared her throat when you walked by.

“And where are you two going?” She asked. You and Peter exchanged looks as the class snickered and murmured their theories about what exactly you were heading off to do.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Pepper. My girlfriend and I have to leave class unexpectedly. Please excuse us. It’s urgent.” Peter’s said politely.

“I bet it’s urgent, Parker.” A boy snickered, making serval classmates laugh.

“Gross.” You wrinkled your noses and looked at the boys in disdain.

“Fine.” The teacher sighed. “The only reason I don’t write you two up for skipping so often is because you somehow have the best grades in the class. Go on. Just get the homework done.”

“We will.” You assured her before leaving the room with Peter. Peter noticed that you didn’t drop his hand even when you were alone in the hallway.

“Hey, you know that teachers name is Dr. Zhang and not Dr. Pepper, right?” You asked him.

“Oh my God.” Peter gasped. “Is it really? I’ve emailed her so many times and said “Dear Dr. Pepper”. We have to drop out.”

You laughed and held his hand the rest of the way out of the building.

That night, Peter laid in his bed with his phone held close to his face. He had been trying to figure out what to text you to let you know he had been thinking of you.

“I had fun fighting crime with you today” He wrote out. He read it over before scrunching his nose.

“No. Too cringe. She is not gonna fall in love with someone that says “fighting crime”. I’m not Paw Patrol.” He said like it was obvious. He deleted his text and thought of another one.

“I had a good time today, we make a good team” He wrote out instead. He read it a few times until he found issue with it.

“Oh, you had a good time stopping those break dancers that were obstructing that Sbarro? That’ll catch her attention.” Peter said sarcastically and deleted the text.

“have a goodnight :)” He typed out and then shook his head.

“No. Wayyyy too horny.” He sighed and deleted it again.

“night” He wrote out and read it a few times.

“This is good. I can work with this.” He nodded. He was about to workshop it when a text from you popped up.

“pick a color” It said. Peters heart skipped a beat at the vague message and replied with the first color that popped into his head.

“blue”

“thank u” You wrote back within seconds. Peters heart stopped pounded and the disappointment that the conversation was over settled in. After all these years of fighting crime together, you two never really managed to make it past the coworkers stage. He was desperate for more but never knew how to get there.

“no homo but I had fun fighting crime with you today” You suddenly texted again. A smile tugged at Peter’s lips and he touched his as if it were your face.

“ok paw patrol” He wrote back. Back in your room, you were laughing at his text and trying to think of a witty reply.

“ur mad bc you know I’m the chase 🐶” You texted him.

“if ur the Chase then who am I?”

“plssss ur such a marshall” You wrote back.

“but that’s the third most important dog :(“ Peter replied.

“well yes but he’s cute and wears red so the little paw patrol shoe fits” You answered. A blush painted Peters cheeks over you calling him cute but he didn’t want to read too much into it.

“Im wearing red right now😳” He texted back.

“oh I bet you are” You answered, making him laugh. He kept the conversation going for about an hour before duty called once again. Peter groaned and put his suit on before swinging to the scene of the crime. He met you there and stopped the crime before stopping on a nearby rooftop to rest.

“These burglars aren’t very considerate of our sleep schedules. Who robs a Jersey Mikes after midnight? Or, like, ever?” Peter huffed as he tugged his mask off.

“I know. They’re always at inconvenient times. I was in the middle of painting my nails.”

“Can I see?” He asked in a soft voice. You pulled your gloves off and held out your hand for him to see.

“Look. Blue. But I only got half way through before Mike’s was targeted.”

“It’s okay. They still look pretty.” Peter complimented you with a soft smile.

“Thanks. You picked a good color.” You replied.

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

“I told you to pick a color. This is why.” You explained and held out your hand again. His eyes lit up at this new information and he took your hand to see your nails closer.

“You let me chose your nail color?” He smiled fondly.

“Well I didn’t know what to chose so I thought I’d ask the audience.” You shrugged and felt shy all of the sudden.

“Oh. And I’m the target audience, huh?” Peter smirked and turned towards you.

“I never said target.” You teased him and shoved him shoulder.

“I must be hearing things, then.” He shrugged as you both smiled.

“Yeah. Must be.” You said in a soft voice as you stared into his eyes. Peter gulped before making a bold move and taking your hand again under the guise of looking at your nails.

“Look at you. You even got my favorite shade.” He noted.

“You like “Eating For Blue”?” You pretended to gasp.

“Is that really the name of the color?” He laughed.

“Uh huh. It was apart of Essie’s baby fever collection. I almost chose “All In Blue Time” but that’s one tends to get little air bubbles and they give me agida. And I used to have “A Dream Come Blue” but it rolled under the sink so it belongs to the dust bunnies now.” You shrugged as you checked out your nails.

“Wow. This is all new information to me. So, are all nail polish colors named after puns and wordplay?” He asked as he stared into your eyes. He didn’t really care, but he was finally getting somewhere with you and didn’t want it to end.

“In my experience, yes. Not always color related wordplay but always something that makes you go yeah, I guess this shade of beige is what the word “ladylike” would be as a color.”

“This is blowing my mind right now.” Peter chuckled.

“You mean blue-ing your mind.” You corrected and tapped the side of your head.

“I think you inhaled too many of those fumes. Because that was not funny.” Peter said through a laugh.

“What?” You pretended to be offended. “You’re literally laughing right now. I’m so funny.”

“You are.” Peter admitted when his laughter died down. You stared into eyes for a minute before smiling.

“Is that what you rumored saw in me?” You asked him.

“Probably.” He chuckled. “I also heard a rumor that I think you’re really pretty. Like, the prettiest girl I was ever rumored to have allegedly seen.”

“Now you’re the one who’s looney from the fumes because that’s a straight up lie. I know you’ve seen prettier girls because I was standing right next to you when Anne Hathaway left that diner.” You said without making eye contact with him. Things were moving a little too fast and you needed it hit the brakes for a second.

“Oh, yeah. You’re right.” Peter forced a laugh and awkwardly looked over at the cityscape when he realized you were politely telling him to pull back.

“But I appreciate it.” You said after a beat of silence.

“Of course. Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking saying that.” He laughed nervously. “I was just getting caught up in the fake dating. We’ve been doing it for so long that it felt real.”

“We only started this morning.” You reminded him.

“Right. Well, it’s late. I’m gonna go home.” He said quickly and stood up. He had just blown that and needed to leave as quickly as possible.

“Okay. Goodnight. See you at school.” You called after him. Peter swung home with tears in his eyes and went straight to bed, missing your text about having fun fighting another crime.

The next day at school, Peter decided to start over and push last night from his mind. He played the part of your boyfriend to the best of his abilities and opened every door, pulled out every seat, and carried ever book for you all day long. Then he did it the next day, and the day after that. He kept his mouth shut about his feelings day in and day out no matter how painful it was getting. You and Peter had finally moved past the coworker stage and become real friends so he didn’t want to sabotage it all by telling you that he spent his days wishing for more.

“What are your plans tonight?” You asked him one day as you walked out of class together.

“My aunt is going out with her friends so I was probably gonna watch a movie on my couch. But on my laptop with my earbuds in. Likely in my boxers. Likely with an entire package of Twizzlers. Why?”

“Well I was gonna suggest that we hang out but you sound booked.”

“Really? You want to hang out?” Peter asked with much more enthusiasm than he intended.

“If you want. I’m not doing anything as exciting as boxers and Twizzlers.”

“I would love to. I’ll put on pants for you. I promise.”

“Sounds good.” You laughed. “Text me your address, okay?”

“Sure. Or you could walk with me now. Unless you’re tired of me and need a break before we hang out.” Peter suggested as you left campus together.

“It’s funny you say that. I was just telling my mom the other day that I never get tired of you.” You said casually.

“You..you don’t?” Peter’s face heated up as he followed you down the sidewalk.

“I don’t. I usually need a break from other people if we’ve been together awhile but it’s different with you. It doesn’t feel like I’m using my social battery if that makes sense.“

“It makes sense.” He smiled shyly as your hands bumped against each others. He was about to make a bold move and take your hand despite no one being around but you suddenly moved it to hit the crosswalk button.

Back at Peter’s apartment, he awkwardly gave you a tour and wished he had picked up his clothes before leaving the house that morning. You didn’t seem to mind the socks and boxers strewn across his room because you were too focused on all the little things he kept on his shelves. You picked up a picture frame of your freshman year high school class that had you and Peter seated right next to each other. Your friendship had only just begun so you often forgot how long you knew him for.

“So this is your room.” You smiled and put the picture back.

“Yup. This is where the magic happens.” Peter said and immediately cringed at himself.

“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. This is where I practice magic. Wanna see?” He asked and picked up a deck of cards. You laughed and went over to take one.

“Is your card the ace of spades?” He asked.

“Queen of hearts.” You snorted and turned the card around.

“You’re the queen of my heart.” He whispered.

“Did you say something?” You asked as you looked at all his Legos.

“I asked what you wanted to do tonight.” He lied.

“I don’t know. We have the place to ourselves. We could do something rated R.” You said with a coy smile.

“Like what?” Peter gulped.

“Watch an R rated movie, you perv. Your aunt isn’t here to stop you.”

“You remember me telling you that I’m not allowed to watch R rated movies in the living room anymore?” Peter blushed at you remembering something he had randomly told you long ago.

“Are you referring to the time you watched Tusk at full volume while she had her friends from work over for the first time? How could I forget?”

“In my defense, I didn’t know what the movie was about. And I didn’t think her friends were gonna come into the living room and see that guy getting turned into a walrus.”

“Yeah, the title and cover art gave no indication that the movie would end that way. But that’s not a bad idea actually. Let’s watch something scary.”

“Okay.” Peter agreed and followed you out into the living room. He turned off the lights and got some snacks while you picked a movie. He hated scary movies but he was not about to tell you that. Instead, he sat on the couch beside you as a respectful distance and handed you a bag of chips. As the movie went on, you got closer and closer to each other. Peter had never really seen you scared before but you were practically in his lap just 40 minutes into the movie. You reached into the bag of chips at the same time as Peter and your fingers touched. You both froze and looked at each other as your faces heated up.

“Shit. I’m not wearing a condom.” Peter sighed, making you yank your hand out and laugh.

“You’re stupid.” You laughed and turned back to the movie just as a jump-scare happened. You screamed and jumped closer to Peter.

“This is so scary. Why did I pick this movie?” You asked as you drew your knees up and leaned into his side.

“Yeah, same.” He replied, not even listening. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. You were cuddled into his side with your head on his shoulder and knees in his lap with a blanket drawn up to your nose. He knew you were only cuddling him because you were scared but it didn’t even matter at that point. The movie went quiet for a minute and then made a loud sound, sending you to burry your face into Peter’s neck.

“Tell me when it’s safe to come out.” You whispered into his ear. Peter gulped and wrapped an arm around you to fully protect you from the movie.

“I will.” He said in a soft voice. You peaked your head out a few minutes later but stayed nestled into Peter’s side. You realized his arm was around you and smiled a little.

“Oh, this isn’t so bad.” You shrugged as the main character got eaten alive.

“I don’t understand you.” Peter chuckled and looked down at you. You laughed as well as you looked into his eyes. He was about to say something when another sharp sound from the movie caused you to jump.

“Hold my hand.” You blurted and grabbed his hand. Peter happily accepted and clasped your hand before holding it under his chin. You stayed in that position for a long time and watched the movie. You were both so focused on the screen that you didn’t hear May opening the front door and coming in.

“Hey. I’m home.” She said, making you both scream.

“Oh, hi May.” Peter greeted while he realized it was just her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker. I’m-“

“I know.” She smirked. “I’ll just be in my room. But, Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“No going in your room with the door closed, okay? I’m home. And we have thin walls. Just keep that in mind.” She said, making Peter turn bright red.

“Got it, May.” He mumbled. She winked at you and disappeared into her bedroom.

“You told your aunt we were dating?” You whispered to Peter in confusion.

“No.” Peter answered honestly. “I guess she just assumed we were.”

“Wow. She’s just like the kids at school.” You shook your head. “I don’t get it. Why does everyone think we’re dating?”

“I mean…” Peter trailed off and looked down at your clasped hands. You hadn’t realized you were still cuddling and quickly jumped off of him. Peters heart sank and the longer he sat in the absence of your body heat, the more upset he felt.

“You just jumped off of me like I was sharp.” He said without looking at you.

“I didn’t want your aunt to see us cuddling and think-“

“And think what?” He snapped, cutting you off. You gutted your head back in surprise and let out a nervous laugh.

“Woah. What’s going on with you? She already knows about your secret life. We don’t have any reason to pretend we’re dating in front of her.”

Peter stared at you for a long time as the word “pretend” cut into him like a knife. Every time he thought you were going somewhere, he was reminded that it didn’t actually mean anything to you.

“Yeah. You’re right.” He mumbled and looked at the movie again. You kept your eyes on him and felt guilty. You had so much to say to him but you felt unable to speak.

“Peter-“

“I don’t think we should pretend to date anymore.” He blurted, cutting you off once again. Your eyebrows went up in surprise and you got a sick feeling in your tummy that you had just ruined something really important.

“What? Why not?”

“It’s stupid. No one even cares anymore.” He shrugged. “We don’t have to fake a breakup or anything but I don’t want to hold hands or play along anymore. I’m done.”

“What changed?” You asked in a soft voice. He was still looking at the movie while you were fully turned to face him.

“Nothing changed. That’s the problem.” He said and angrily got off the couch. You quickly caught his hand and he stopped. He looked down at the ground and let out a sigh. He knew it wasn’t fair to be mad at you if he hadn’t told you what was wrong. He slowly turned around and looked at you.

“Five years ago, you showed up to the same robbery at an all night CVS that I was at and I realized we knew each other from AP Spanish class because I had asked you earlier that day how to conjugate “poner” and you said “pusiste” and I laughed because I thought you were joking but you weren’t and then that night you heard me tell the burglar that he better“pusiste” the money back into the register.“ Peter began.

“Okay. Wow. That was a really long sentence.” You laughed softly. “But I remember that. I laughed and told you that you better remember that for the test.”

“You did. That’s how I knew it was you.” He smiled at the memory. “I failed that test, by the way. I still can’t conjugate “poner.” And I still think it means “boner” even though I know it’s a verb. But anyway, that night, I couldn’t sleep because I was so excited to have met you. Even though we technically already knew each other, that night put us in each others radars. I could not believe that I had met my match. You’re into science like me and sarcastic like me and you understand this side of my life because you have the same side. But despite running into each other on patrol almost nightly and seeing each other around school, I barely got you to notice me. I don’t think you even knew my name until we ended up going the same college. You called me “Timmy” all throughout high school.”

“You seriously look like one. It’s uncanny. I don’t know what it is.”

“I thought things would change when I found out we were going to the same college. The campus is so small I figured there’s no way we wouldn’t become friends. But even then, we hardly ever talked and when we did it was always about work. I didn’t even know where you lived until last semester.”

“I remember that too. The first night we really bonded was when you fell off that roof because you were trying to show me how to do a backflip.”

“Yeah, I’ve never been able to do a backflip.” He admitted. “I only said I could because you said you always wanted to learn how to do one and I assumed given my abilities I’d be able to do one if I just followed my body. But I busted my ass and you were kind enough to sneak me through your window and patch me up with some Scooby Doo bandaids.”

“It was all I had.” You shrugged.

“And you gave it to me anyway. Because you’re kind and compassionate and I’m just…I’m crazy about you.” Peter finally admitted. “I was so excited when we started hanging out more this semester but it always ended up crushing me when I remembered that we just doing it to keep people from finding out the truth. I really, really love our friendship and if I’m ruining it all by saying all this then at least I can die with it off my chest.”

“Wait, now I’m confused. Are you dying?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “It feels like I am every time you and I start to get close and then I remember this is all pretend for you.”

“So it’s not pretend for you?” You asked quietly. Peter stared into your heads for a minute and then shook his head.

“No. I was never pretending. I like you.” He told you. Your facial expression didn’t change as you stared back at him. Peter was really starting to panic until a smile tugged at your lips.

“Sit back down.” You told him.

“I’m sat.” He said and rushed it sit down. You nestled back into his side and laid your head down on his shoulder. Peter smiled and rested his head on top of yours, finally pleased with the way a conversation with you went. You both turned your attention back to the movie just in time for it to end.

“Hm.” You huffed. “That was supposed to be us symbolically finishing the movie as a real couple but it appears we’ve already arrived at the credits. Now what?”

“We could watch Tusk.” Peter suggested at the same time you said “We could make out.”

“I never actually saw Tusk but I always wanted to.” You gasped and hit his arm with excitement.

“Or we could do your thing.” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.

“Let me see if I can find it.” You said as you scrolled through the streaming services on his TV.

“Or we could do your thing.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

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[theeveninghour]

All My Dreaming

Summary: You came to the Night Court as a fugitive and quickly became a valued member of the Inner Circle. Azriel’s love for you has burned brightly in his chest for nearly two centuries now, but when an unknown force threatens to take you from him, he must fight to keep you at his side.

Pairing: Azriel x Winter Court!Reader

A/N: I don’t use Y/N here just out of personal preference, but the IC do call reader “Little One” because she’s younger than them by like a century or so. Also, slight timeline deviation? I kind of just made the ACOTAR timeline work for me a little bit but the important bits are there mostly. If it’s not totally accurate, please suspend your disbelief and go with it. I also took some serious liberties with Prythian geography and Azriel’s shadows in this. I had to force myself to stop because I could’ve written five more scenes, so let me know if you all want a part two. I got nasty Azriel thots to spare, baby! 

WC: 16.1k  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW: 18+, Minors DNI, violence, death, descriptive gore, lots of time jumps, torture, smut, p in v, fingering, porn with plot, mating, slow burn, angst, friends to lovers, declarations of love, loving sexy times, miscommunications abound, Azriel being a big ole softie, Azriel being a big ole bitch to bad men, Azriel really going tf thru it emotionally, and Azriel being mouthy as fuck. Just girly things. 

Part 2

Azriel hadn’t seen you in four days. Nearly a week had passed since you’d left. Rhys mentioned a mission but no additional details, Cassian avoided the topic, knowing how frustrated his brother got when you were gone, and Feyre was decidedly unhelpful the few times he’d brought you up. His shadows searched aimlessly, they’d found nothing as far south as Winter Court, daring not venture into Autumn, and knowing damn well you’d never step foot into Spring. You were slowly driving him mad; the bond in his chest aching at the loss. Even if you hadn’t recognized the golden thread linking the two of you, he felt it. 

Gods, did he feel it. He’d often lay in his bed at night, eyes tracing the intricate foil patterns of the ceiling tiles. When sleep evaded him, as it frequently did, he’d grasp the thread tightly in his minds eye and tug it experimentally, begging you to see, to notice it was him that loved you with a ferocity that rivaled the sun. Try as he might, the responding tug never answered, his call into the void not returning an echo. 

The second it snapped for him, Azriel had resolved himself as unworthy, not of someone like you. You were powerful, breathtakingly beautiful, intimidatingly intelligent, and you regularly brought men to their knees, both in political circles and on the battlefield. Rhys relied on you as much he did Cassian and Az, you were a core member of his court, a valuable asset, and the love of Azriel’s life. Azriel avoided the latter subject entirely, choosing instead to silently stoke the ember in chest with unyielding affection; his own private paramour. 

When you’d joined the Night Court, you’d been on the run from both Winter and Autumn Courts. Your father was a high fae noble in Winter that had attempted to arrange a marriage to the second youngest Vanserra of Autumn. The family’s brutal reputation was legend and you were terrified. You were young then, barely a century old, and upon your introductory visit to the Autumn Court, Beron sought to make an impression by presenting a welcome gift. That gift? The public torture and execution of a servant he’d deemed traitorous. 

His gleaming eyes remained on yours with each cast of the fire whip he’d conjured using his cruel magic. He’d cracked it again and again until blood splattered and the servant was left flayed beyond recognition, flesh searing, and finger tips twitching from the remaining neurons firing in his brain. Only after his death did Beron announce his crimes. He’d stolen a parcel of food from the royal pantry to feed his wife and small child. Your stomach churned at the thought of the now widow and fatherless child waiting at home for the male that would never return. 

It had all been a test to see if you were worthy of the most violent and petulant of the broody sons, and you’d passed, holding Beron’s stare and keeping your back straight as you faced his wrath head on. You’d cried yourself dry in your room that night though, sobs wracking your form until your chest ached, grief for the male that was lost. Fear settled into your heart, terror of the family you were set to marry into. 

You’d ran at first light, leaving with nothing but the clothes on your back. Your Winter white blonde hair streaking across the red and orange forest as you bolted. Beron sent his dogs after you. You still had the scars lining your calves from where they’d gotten too close, brought you down into the dirt, jaws snapping and tearing at the muscly sinew there. But you’d fought. You’d kicked and clawed like a feral child of the woods, screaming with a sense of self preservation you’d never known you possessed. 

Rhysand had found you half dead, starving and a little savage in the mountainous border between the Day and Night Courts. He’d made a bargain with you then; he’d save you, if you worked for him. Word had already spread of the ousted Winter female and spurned Autumn princeling and Rhysand was impressed you’d lasted in the wilds undetected for so long. The small star flecked tattoo of the Velarian night sky that lived on your wrist since was the only evidence of his deal. 

You’d long moved past such a bargain. Rhys had offered to lift it half a dozen times in your first hundred years within his court, but you hadn’t minded. A reminder, you’d insisted, a mark of your loyalty to the family that didn’t lead you the wolves with such glee. 

You’d settled into a routine in Velaris, training with the Illyrian brothers and charming Amren with your intelligence and wit.  But you’d become the closest with Mor, who felt a kinship in your shared traumas. She’d soothed you in those first years, fiercely protecting her friend when Eris Vanserra had shown up in Hewn City as an emissary to inquire on your new position in the Night Court. It was that same night that Azriel realized how fucked he truly was.

Eris smirked at you and your back straightened, face growing cold. He spoke, “My brother was wondering where you’d scampered off to.” A laugh followed, “You couldn’t stomach our court, but found yourself bound to the Court of Nightmares? My my, what a wicked turn of events.” 

Rhysand had spoken then, wearing his High Lord mask well, “Watch yourself, Eris. You know not what our Little One can do.” Eris laughed, the sound laced with the dark spark of a threat. “Little One? Fugitive and Night Court whore, I must tell your father. I’m sure he’ll be proud to hear of his daughter’s fate.” Azriel’s wings pricked, then fluttered, he would’ve killed Eris right then for you. Your hand came to rest on Rhys’ arm as you stepped around the throne to level your accuser with a look that should’ve turned him to stone. 

“I am no male’s whore and I belong to no court except Night. Report what you wish to my father, to your father, your brother. May you all rot.” You’d spat at his feet then, and the room heated twenty degrees, Eris’ barely kept rage simmering under the surface, fire blooming on the fringes of his figure. 

He stepped forward and Cassian, Azriel, and Mor all shifted, prepared to take out the threat. Eris’ eyes tracked their figures, gauging the situation. He knew better. Any attack here would mean war on his court and his father have his hide for that. You stepped forward to meet him, knowing he could make no move without endangering his position. You kept your spine straight and narrowed your gaze at him with such contempt he would’ve been impressed at the show had you been anyone else. 

“I will say this once Eris Vanserra,” you held up one long manicured finger, and Azriel traced the action with thinly veiled obsession. “Leave my court or I will be the one to kill you. I’ll rip your spine from your body and I’ll do it with the same glee in which your father,” you’d spat that word, the hatred you held for Beron burning your throat as the words exited your mouth, “killed that male for feeding his family.” You took a step closer, summoning a dagger in your left hand, and rolling it your palm. “Trust that we have no tolerance for your family or your bullshit in these lands.” 

Eris had good enough sense to step back then, peering around your form to where Rhysand sat, legs spread, slouched in the throne, smirking at your display of dominance. Azriel to his right looked on in pure male satisfaction, you were a powerful little thing and he was rather fond of you in that moment. Eris spoke up, “Should I note that the Night Court threatens other Courts for sport?” Cassian and Azriel rolled their eyes in synchronous fashion, but it was Mor that spoke with the dark edge of a threat, “Only ones that deserve such brutality.” Her father, Kier, stood in the gathered crowd and sneered at the tone of her voice.

You’d done the unthinkable then, winnowing behind Eris, grasping the male by his red hair and dragging the dagger to his neck, digging in enough to cause the male’s heart to speed, a line of scarlet leaking from the press of your blade. You could feel the heat in his skin, the flame licked at your hand as you released him with a shove. 

You brandished your dagger as if it was an extension of your hand, the tip of the silver blade glinting with red from the now healing cut at Eris’ throat. “Come for me again and I’ll kill you.” It was then that Azriel noted the slight tremble in the hand at your right side and he wished on some distant star that he could reach out to you, soothe you, tell you that he was proud and you defended yourself and your court beautifully. 

As if his wish was granted, he felt his chest give way to a canyon of emotion, heart stuttering as the bond fluttered and snapped, thrumming with affection for the female standing at the center of the room. He had selfishly allowed himself to hope it would be you, in the dark of the night when he was alone and his shadows whispered to him of your whereabouts. Since he’d met you, he fostered that small romantic notion of soulmates. His most private desire. 

Eris whirled on you with a roar, grabbing your throat with hands of fire. Azriel felt the breath leave him, and he took two then three steps forward before he could think, hazel eyes alight with a fierceness you’d not yet witnessed. Your eyes found his and you held up your hand to halt his movements, the one that had trembled seconds earlier, now steady as a stone. You’d looked at Eris then, raising your chin defiantly, a slow smile overtaking your face as you once again spit at the Autumn male before winnowing back to your place in front of the dais. Rhysand raised to his feet then, taking steps down to meet you. His hand grazed your arm this time and his mind reached out, “Very good, Little One, very good.” 

“As the lady said, Eris, come to my court in search of her again, and she’ll be the one to kill you.” Rhys circled Eris, tracking like prey. “But not before I sanction it for laying your hands on a member of my house.” Rhysand spoke with such quiet cunning, it was no wonder he excelled as High Lord. Eris snarled then before winnowing out of the Hewn City and Azriel quickly set his shadows to following him, ensuring he was actually gone. 

You returned to Mor’s side and the shameless pride that set on your face the rest of the night made Azriel want to kiss you. Gods, he was fucked.. 

You’d flirted with him constantly in the first century you’d been in Velaris. You had laid it on thick too, dragging a long nail up his arm, your mouth sliding into a smirk after one too many drinks at Rita’s. Azriel had always feigned friendly indifference though, a mask he slipped on that was equal parts protection as it was self soothing. His only crack coming in the form of a slight tremble in his pinky as he tried to gather himself to avoid closing the space between you, touching, grasping, feeling.

He’d worn black leather gloves around you in your first few decades with them. His hands always held the most insecurity for him, the silver scars and warped skin a brutal reminder of his childhood. It was after training one day, as you all packed your small bags and threw towels into bins that you’d asked about it. 

“I don’t mean to pry, and feel free to tell me to fuck off, but why the gloves?” You asked quietly leaning against a wall less than ten feet from him. He’d stiffened and breathed tightly, “it helps with the work.” That had always been his excuse, wearing gloves when killing helped reduce the touch memories associated with the act, and it was partially true. But he wasn’t on a mission right now, and you called him on that, “are you spying right now?” Your lips quirked, “should I tell Rhys?” Your words were mirthful, but your eyes held nothing but empathy for the Shadowsinger, sometimes Azriel wondered if that was your Cauldron blessed gift. 

You’d reached down then, rolling up the left leg of your training leathers. You’d resumed your full height and rotated your calf outward for his eyes to survey the damage there. Ragged silver keloid scars marked the skin from your ankle to the soft back of your knee— a knee he’d admittedly fantasized about many nights in a row now. He’d selfishly thought about trailing kisses up your leg, pausing to nip playfully at the soft skin at your knee as he made his way north, up your thigh. He breathed deeply banishing those thoughts as he took in the site of your marred skin. Judging by the heavily keratinized markings, the injury had no doubt been painful when incurred originally. Azriel’s fingers twitched again, wanting to touch your face, hold you as he kissed away your grief. 

“From Beron’s dogs,” you breathed, rolling you shoulders, as if shaking the memory from your mind. “They wouldn’t heal when I was out there,” you clicked your tongue, “granted I was starving,” you sighed, “but that’s a story for another day.” You looked at him then, and he had to steady himself at the emotions pooling in your eyes. 

He’d already planned on killing Beron if the opportunity presented for what had happened with Mor, but for you, he’d make it hurt. He’d drag it out and make it slow. He’d torture him for days, flaying skin from bone, taking fingers then limbs and when at last he begged for death, Azriel would set the dogs on him and laugh as they tore him apart. He felt a long repressed need for vengeance creep up his spine, and he hated to acknowledge what its presence meant in regards to you.

“It’s okay, you know,” you’d said, head lolling to the side as you watched him, eyes swimming with a gentle affection, “I’ll never judge you for something like that.” Azriel squeezed his eyes shut as he turned his head from you and breathed in tightly. How did always manage to be so fucking disarming and vulnerable? That must’ve been a gift too.

He pinched the middle finger of the right glove and pulled it from his hand, grasping his now exposed fingers into a fist, knuckles cracking. He extended that arm out, palm up as he let you view his deepest insecurity, the thing he hated most in his appearance. 

You’d stepped forward, looking at his palm. Your hands went to reach but you’d paused, looking to his eyes as you silently asked permission to touch. He nodded stiffly, watching you with the same intensity of an animal being hunted, prey ready to bolt at any moment. 

Your fingers touched his hand, and he felt the connection race up his arm and to his chest, settling in his heart. Your eyes studied, and you rotated his hand, fingers gently tracing from his wrist, to knuckle, to fingernail in reverence. You covered his hand with your own, moving your eyes to his hazel ones. “Are they dead?” You’d asked seriously, and he stuttered a shocked laugh. “Yes, Little One, they are,” he answered, a small smile playing at his mouth. The two of you far too similar it seemed. “Good,” you’d said simply before kissing his knuckles and pulling the glove back on for him. The action was quietly intimate, and Azriel should’ve kissed you then. Mother knows he considered it, eyes watching you with rapt attention as his heart sped up and breathing shallowed. 

“If you two are done flirting, lunch is ready,” Cassian announced from the doorway, breaking the spell you were both under. You’d jumped and laughed freely at the large male smirking at the entrance. You grasped Azriel’s hand tightly in affection before releasing it to turn on your heel to exit the room, passing by Cass with an eye roll, thumping him square in the chest.

Cassian looked to his brother as he walked into the room and his face split into a shit eating grin. “Let’s go, loverboy,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. Azriel glared, scoffing as he followed behind you, praying to whatever Gods were listening that he’d get you alone again soon. 

In your second century with the Night Court, you’d lessened the blatant flirting and settled into loving, easy friendship. You regularly attended balls and galas in Hewn City, fitting into such pomp with practiced ease, but always with a dagger strapped to your thigh, ready to cut a male down in seconds. Those events were almost routine at this point: Azriel would save you a dance, and you’d move together in a slow ritual that you’d both perfected over the years, he’d bow as the violinist played their final note and resume his place on dais at Rhys’ right. His eyes would follow you the rest of the night, as you spoke in an airy manner to various high fae, glaring at any male whose hands ventured too close to his mate. 

Nights when the Court held parties at the House of Wind were different though. You were far less rigid, finding it easy to exist without scrutiny. Those were the nights Azriel’s eyes rarely left your form as he watched obsessively from the corners of the room. 

“You’re staring,” Rhys chimed from his place next to Azriel, eyes not leaving the crowd as he spoke to the Shadowsinger, mouth smirking. Azriel was staring. You’d worn cobalt blue tonight, a lovely color on your skin. His color on your skin. Mother above, the male possessiveness that crawled up his spine was unreal. Mate, mate, mate, his shadows had sang in his ear. He wanted to pluck the eyes from every male in the room for even glancing in your direction. He wanted so much more than that too. Your breathy sighs as he marked you, your moan as he made you come undone, his name crying from your lips as he ate his come from your cunt after. Azriel had a million and one scenarios running through his head. He yearned to make each one of them come to fruition too.

He hadn’t answered Rhysand, so the High Lord tried again, “you really should tell her, but please,” Rhys closed his eyes with a grimace, “quiet your thoughts first, for Cauldron’s sake.” That got Azriel’s attention, his back straightening and mental shield slamming down. His eyes squeezed shut, almost as if he was in pain. “I cannot burden her with that now,” he said, “not with war at our doorstep.” Indeed, the second war with Hybern creeped ever closer, disappearances of other high fae occurring daily. Whatever they were planning across the sea, it was going to bring Prythian to its knees. 

Rhysand sighed then, feeling older than his 500 years. “Be that as it may, we should hold those we love tighter.” Rhysand looked to Feyre at that moment, his eyes meeting his mate’s, as he sent a strum of warm affection down the bond. She smiled and returned it cheerily. He turned back to Azriel, “if it all ends tomorrow, I know my love and she knows me. That’s all we can ask for in this immortal life.” Azriel looked back to you, and your eyes were already on him, tracing the shadows that wound around his chest. You met his eyes and winked, before turning back to Mor and laughing freely.  

“I thank the Cauldron daily it was you that found her in those mountains, Rhys.” Azriel spoke quietly, admitting a small secret he’d not told anyone. Rhysand softened, and clapped his friend on the shoulder, “As I am, brother.” Azriel nodded, letting the conversation die between himself and the High Lord as he drained the drink in his hand and moved down the steps in your direction. 

You’d been in conversation with Mor when he approached. She was telling you of the seamstress she’d been seeing, and how happy she was. Azriel cleared his throat from behind the two of you and you turned to meet him, taking in his appearance with wide eyes. “Ladies,” he started, bowing to you and Mor, who snorted at the silly formality. “And that note, I’ll be taking my leave. I’ve got a lady to see,” she said with a wink and a flourish of her red dress. You laughed and shook your head before turning back to the Shadowsinger. He’d caught you staring earlier and your heart had nearly jumped into your throat, before Mor mocked you lightly, diffusing the tension. 

“Hi Az,” you greeted softly, before dropping your empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray and thanking them. Azriel watched you closely, noting the revealed skin that shifted with each movement, committing every angle and freckle to memory.

“You want to get out of here?” He dared ask, jerking his head toward the private balcony on the House of Wind. You raised a brow, Azriel? Asking you to leave? Together? You heart was back in your throat and you thanked the Mother that you’d taken your time getting ready that evening. Nodding, you grasped his arm as he offered it to you like a proper courtier. He walked the two of you up a round of stairs and away from the eyes he’d threatened earlier in the night. Voices dulled the more space you put between yourselves and them and you couldn’t help but start to sweat a bit at the thought of being alone with Azriel. 

You’d been friends for nearly two centuries, but you’d always felt a connection with the male. Your heart thrummed with a warm, golden affection when he got close. It made keeping a clear head during training hard. It made sitting next to him at dinner difficult. And when he’d looked at you like you hung the moon as you danced earlier in the night, it made you want to take him to bed and ride him until he moaned your name. You breathed deeply. ‘Focus,’ you chided yourself, ‘he is your friend, for Cauldron’s sake.’

He led you out onto to the balcony and stopped at the railing before looking up at the star flecked sky. “This is my favorite part of the House,” he said eyes scanning the sky before looking back to you as you watched him. A blush crept up his neck, before he cleared his throat again. 

“I’ve always wondered what it was like to be able to fly, you know,” you said quietly, removing your hand from his arm, rolling up onto your toes, leaning against the stone railing, and looking out on Velaris before scanning your eyes up to the three stars that shone brightly overhead. “When I was a child, I met a Peregryn from the Dawn Court and thought she had the most beautiful wings I’d ever seen.” You chanced a glance his way, “I’d not met an Illyrian yet.” You reminded with a smirk, bumping his arm with fondness. Gods, he was in trouble.

“I asked her what it was like and she said it was the purest sense of freedom possible.” You glanced down at your feet, “I spent the next year wishing for wings.”  He mulled on your words. He wanted to say something cheesy as Cassian would, like ‘I’ll be your wings’ but he couldn’t, so you continued on. 

“When I was a little older, I witnessed a blue skinned lesser fae’s wings ripped from his body as punishment and it was the most gruesome thing I’d seen at that point.” You took a shuddering breath, “I cried for him that night. The lost freedom. How maddening it must’ve been.” You looked at him then and he watched you with furrowed brows. “How does it feel for you?” You asked softly, eyes tracing the shine of his wing. ‘Magnificent things,’ you thought. You remembered seeing his wings for the first time and thinking the Peregryn had finally moved to second place in your mind. 

Azriel had to gather himself as he spoke, “It’s… everything.” He said quietly adjusting his body to extend a wing. “My ability to fly came in late,” he said, and your eyes widened, you hadn’t known that. “My childhood was… rough and I didn’t learn to fly until I was nearly grown.” He laughed, scuffing the toe of his boot, wings folding in behind him. “It was a lot of crash landings those first months.” You snorted, mental image of a younger Az, landing in a puddle of mud crossing your mind. 

“I was never a proud Illyrian, not like the others,” he continued, “it was hard for me to reconcile my heritage and our traditions.” He looked to the cityscape then, “but the stronger I got, the more I understood why flight was so crucial to my people.” He looked to you, eyes shining, “it’s the closest we can get to the stars.” 

You leaned over the railing again, staring wistfully at the night sky, the moon reflecting on your skin. “Will you take me someday? Flying, I mean.” Did you not know Azriel would give you the world? Of course he’d take you flying. He’d give you the moon, the stars, walk through fire and back, anything. He nodded, “you say the word, and I’ll fly you the the ocean and back.” The smile that broke across your face crippled him, his knees threatened to give way. 

“Yours are my favorite,” you murmured softly, eyes glancing from his wings to his face. Azriel blushed in full, pink speckling his neck and cheeks as he laughed. “Don’t let Cass hear you say that, he’s got an ego,” he said, a smile remaining at his lips. You liked him like this the most. Loose, smiling, free. You reached up then, cupping his reddened cheek, thumb stroking. “I don’t care,” you said smiling, “it’s the truth.” Azriel swallowed roughly, staring at your eyes swimming with an emotion he knew, but was much too stubborn and scared to name.

Just as your hand went to retreat, he grasped it between his own. “You can touch them,” he offered, knowing damn well the implications, “if you want,” he added. Your eyes widened. Mor had mentioned once that Illyrian’s wings were ‘sensitive,’ was the word she’d used. It was a sign of great intimacy and trust to allow another to touch them. You felt the air shift between you two then, as you nodded.

He extended a wing toward you. This felt so much like the first time he’d shown you his hands all those years ago. Your hand crept forward and gentle fingers met the red gold membrane that stretched between two metacarpals. Your fingers traced the membrane in smooth circles, then traced up to the crest. Azriel felt his breath gutter out of his mouth in a loud, choppy exhale, and he felt himself harden at the sensation of your fingers against the most sensitive portion of his wings. You gasped and jerked away at the sudden noise, before apologizing. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten carried away.” 

Azriel shook his head, “It’s not that, they’re sensitive.” There was that word again, only it made you think of how they’d been shredded before the King of Hybern, and you opened your mouth to apologize again, but he stopped you short. “I haven’t allowed another to touch them freely since my mother.” The admission floored you, your gut giving way with a breath.

You looked to his eyes then, the air between you had shifted again and you knew this was it. This was the moment you’d waited for, he was going to kiss you. Mother, it felt you’d waited a millennia, and he felt just the same. But that kiss never came. Instead, Azriel went stock still, his eyes now on the House behind you. 

“Azriel?” You questioned. “It’s Rhys,” he said tightly, “he’s summoning me.” You understood then. He looked to you desperately, eyes a little wild and apologetic. “I’m sorry, I have to go to him.” You nodded, you both worked for the High Lord, you’d never get in the way of Azriel’s allegiance to his Court. “Of course,” you said quietly, taking a step back and swallowing down your disappointment. 

Azriel took three steps towards the entrance then stopped. “I’ll take you,” he turned around, backing his way to the arched stone, but keeping his eyes on you for a moment longer. “When I get back, I’ll take you flying,” he offered. Another smile etched its way across your face and Azriel took a long moment to memorize it greedily. “It’s a date,” you said confidently. He beamed then, turning on a heel to pick up into a jog, Rhys no doubt shouting to hurry up. 

That date hadn’t happened though. The second war with Hybern broke out days later and you both barely made it out alive. 

When Feyre had come to Velaris after Amarantha’s defeat, you’d accepted her with easy friendship. You saw Rhysand, your longtime friend, overcome with love for his newly found mate, and you couldn’t help but love her as well. You’d shared your story with her and the two of you bonded deeply over her art. She’d offered to teach you to paint, and you began taking lessons in your off time. Rhys had been Cauldron blessed with her and you reminded him daily. 

Later, when Feyre’s sisters joined their little unit, you’d been the first one to break Nesta’s tough exterior. The female saw parts of herself in you and you’d gotten her to crack a smile when you mocked Rhys’ High Lord voice at dinner one night. Elain had been a tougher sell, but you’d tried, along with Azriel, to bring the female out of her shell. The day she joined you in the library to read, you knew progress had been made, even if you two had only sat in silence a few feet apart, a small smile gracing her features. 

You left her book recommendations with small notes and she began to do the same. Your friendship playing out in the margins of the library’s tomes. You won her over with silent conversation. Nesta noticed, of course, and she looked to you with gratitude as she saw her sister’s eyes brightened and skin began to return to its normal, healthy color. The night Azriel mentioned it as you walked down the hall toward the dining room for the family meal, you’d shrugged. “I met her where she needed me to,” you’d said quietly, glancing to your feet. Azriel smiled, a Cauldron blessed gift indeed. 

Dinners at the House of Wind were by far Azriel’s favorite version of you. You’d laugh with abandon, smile splitting your face, showing every tooth as Mor cracked a joke and leaned against you for support, one too many drinks in her system. The first time he’d seen that smile, it blinded him, and he’d gone a little dazed, staring at you in wonderment. Rhys had interrupted his train of thought with an invasive insertion of “How quickly she reduced you to a puddle, brother.” Azriel had scowled at Rhys then, mental shields firming up, but not before he heard the distinct sound of his High Lord laughing at the Spymaster’s defensiveness. 

Indeed Azriel was gone for you. When Cassian finally confronted him last year about the truth of his feelings, Azriel saw no point to avoid it any longer, not after his brothers had also found their mates. “Our souls are one in the same, she’s my mate,” he’d said pensively, as if he was letting his deepest secret breath in the light for the first time in centuries. Maybe he was. He’d made Cassian promise on his life not to tell anyone, and despite being the biggest gossip in the Inner Circle, he kept his promise. He was thrilled for his brother, knowing you were the perfect match.

Little did Azriel know, everyone else was already more than aware of his affections. Amren had figured it out a century prior when Azriel had tended your needs as you’d recovered from an injury sustained during a mission. He’d fretted around you like a mother hen, buying you flowers, sweets, and books while you were bedridden. The female had watched and hummed with a raised eyebrow as Azriel exited your room for the fifth time in one day, wringing his hands with worry despite Madja’s clean bill of health.

Feyre had figured it out the same year she’d returned from the Spring Court, just before the second war with Hybern. She’d seen the way his eyes had followed you in the war room Rhys had created to host strategy meetings. Saw him lean towards you when you spoke, saw his wings flutter when you finally cast your gaze to him, eager for your attention. More than anything, she’d seen his shadows, desperate little things, sneaking across the floor each night, sidling up your ankles and wrists, begging for your affection. You always laughed and nuzzled them as the wound their way to your hair and Azriel went a little soft at the sight. 

When she told Mor, the blonde had laughed, “They’ve been circling each for two hundred years now, eventually one of them will cave.” Mor leveled a sardonic look at Feyre then, “and when they do, we’ll all have to relocate to the River House for a year lest we be subject to the frenzy.”

This mission should’ve been simple. Rhys had asked you to check out reports of rogue soldiers spotted making their way towards the border of the Night Court from the Day coastline. The intel he’d received had mentioned three to four maximum, all of them drunken ex-Hybern loyalists. It should’ve been a matter of locating them, spying for a day or two, then winnowing in to neutralize any threat. Gods, this was far from simple. 

When you’d arrived in the region, the hairs on your neck rose, the air itself feeling off. As you tracked them, you’d noticed intentional attempts to throw you off course. A carelessly trashed map, crudely laid tracks in the opposite direction, Dawn Court wine bottles that had been emptied and tossed about. They knew you were there, and you quickly realized that a trap had been laid. You backed off them then, staying further than you’d have liked, but trying like hell to make them think you’d given up. 

On your fourth night following them, you’d drifted away to an inn two towns over, desperately seeking a place to bathe and rest, even for a few hours. As you bathed, you felt watched in a way that discomfited you to your core, and your dagger stayed within arms reach the rest of the night. Suddenly, the role you’d played for the last two hundred years had left you entirely ill equipped for whatever was happening here. 

You’d left out before dawn, refusing to lose an ounce of daylight, but as you hit the tree line, readying yourself to winnow out, you’d noticed it. Hanging from a tree, a hundred yards away was a piece of clothing, your clothing. Clothing that should’ve been in the pack at your back. Your breath shuttered out of you as you opened your mind to Rhys, asking for back up. You were in over your head and you knew when to admit it. There was no pride in getting yourself killed. 

As you turned to move back to the inn where you could wait out contact from Rhys in a public location, you were met with a pair of shining blue eyes. You stepped back, keeping your grounding, readying for a fight. “You’ve been following us,” the stranger said calmly, beginning to trek in a slow circle around you. You opened your mind to Rhys again, “Help,” you called. Rhys answered this time, “Where are you?!” It was a frantic response, you never asked for help, Rhys knew this. “Just off the coast, beneath the mountain range, Day court border, 400 hundred paces from the inn” you spoke to Rhys in choppy thoughts, trying to establish a location before all hell broke loose. 

“I have,” you finally answered the stranger, whose lips quirked at your voice. He stopped circling and resumed his stance in front of you, blocking passage to the inn. “Why?” He asked and you tried to keep your mind steady as you answered. “You’re trespassers in these lands” you stated simply, shrugging a shoulder up. He grinned then, “had your lot not gotten in the way of our King’s plans, these would be our lands. We were promised them. I was personally promised the Court of Nightmares.”

“Well,” you shrugged feigning indifference, “that’s not how the war played out, so I will have to ask you to leave,” you offered in your most bored political tone. The same tone you’d used with High Fae that ran off at the mouth in Hewn City. The stranger cocked his head the side then, eyes twinkling, “I don’t think I will.” At that moment, one by one, additional soldiers appeared from the forest line. One, then four, then ten, until near twenty stood around you, looking on with hatred. 

Shit. 

“We’d hoped for the Illyrians, but it seems your High Lord sent us a treat instead,” the stranger said with mirth. You steeled your spine, looking down your nose at the stranger, “They’re going to kill you, you know.” He’d laughed at your threat. “I think not,” he said as as arrow was released from your left, finding purchase in your shoulder. You folded over on yourself at the blow, and looked up baring your teeth, before drawing your dagger and rushing the stranger with a feral sound.

Five more arrows hit you before your blade could find its target. One into your hip, two in your back, a fourth piercing your in your upper thigh, until the last burrowed into the back of your knee, bringing you down in front of him — forcing you to bow to the stranger. The arrows were laced with faebane you realized as you’d begun to feel its effects in your blood. Your power waning quickly, thoughts becoming murky. 

You released another shattered thought to Rhys then, “Tell him, please,” you begged raggedly. Rhysand came back with a rushed and tight, “Hold on, Little One, we’re coming.” You shook your head, there wasn’t time. “Tell Azriel I love him if I don’t make it, Rhys, promise me.” He responded but it muddled out, sounding like words shouted through a pool of water, then your brain fell quiet. The line severed. 

The stranger lifted your head, hand wrapped around your throat, as he bent to meet your crouched form. “I’ll be sure to savor this,” he smiled and the hilt of his sword came in fierce contact with your forehead. 

It was the early morning on your fifth day away when Rhys heard you. “Help,” it had come through so clearly that it startled Rhys awake and set his heart to racing. You’d only asked for help once, during the war when you were overrun and near death. You were in danger.

He’d sat up straight in bed, Feyre still sleeping silently at his side, hand resting on her pregnant stomach. “Where are you?!” He’d asked down the line, a little frantic, remembering the state he and Azriel had found you in last time. Gods, you’d been run through on a Hybern soldier’s sword, the damage was astronomical. Azriel had nearly killed everyone within a mile radius at the sight of you.

You recited your location in short bursts and Rhys focused on the bond of your bargain, using it to locate you with more precision. He reached out to Azriel then, “Get Cassian and meet me downstairs. Be ready to fly.” Azriel responded an affirmative and Rhys rushed around his room, grabbing his dagger lined belt, and using his magic to dress in his leathers quickly. He winnowed to the base of the stairs and was glad to find Cassian and Azriel waiting. 

“Tell him, please” you begged into Rhys’ mind then, words growing ragged. Rhys’ eyes slammed shut with a wince and he attempted to reassure you, “Hold on, Little One, we’re coming.” Rhys opened his eyes and looked to Azriel, who was watching him with anticipation. You responded again, words growing murkier, a little warbled. “Tell Azriel I love him if I don’t make it, Rhys, promise me.” Rhysand felt sick. “We will find you and you will tell him yourself,” he spoke but the bond was dead, silent, foreboding. Rhys thought he might vomit. 

He looked to Azriel again, “It’s her. She’s in trouble. We have to go.” Azriel’s face darkened with a thunderous ferocity. Mother help the males who’d harmed you. “Where?” He asked, voice deep with the threat of murderous violence. “The wilds on the border, off the coast of Day. I’ll winnow us as close as possible.” Azriel nodded his acquiesce and lifted a trembling hand to his hair, running scarred fingers through the strands. Cassian spoke then, “we will get her back,” he’d said softly as Rhysand put his hands to the two of them, preparing for the jump. “And we will kill every last one of them,” Cassian added darkly as blue-black shadows encased them and they disappeared. 

You awoke with a start, gasping like you’d been underwater. Your shoulders ached from your position. You pulled on your hands only to realize you were shackled to a tree somewhere deep in the forest, the same forest you’d been on the outskirts of earlier. You looked up to the sky, trying to find the sun to gauge how much time had passed. The sun had long moved past midday and was sinking towards the evening horizon. Your throat tightened. Where was Rhysand? 

“Nice of you to join us,” a voice spoke. It was the stranger again, he emerged from the camp set two hundred paces to your left, hidden by shrubs and underbrush. You got a good look at him this time. He was tall, leanly muscular in a way that reminded you of Lucien Vanserra. His hair was a dishwater blonde and lacked any sheen, falling in choppy dry waves around his shoulders. His face was gaunt, eyes sunken, bruised with a lack of rest, and his cheekbones were sharp, giving his face an angle that made him look harsh and unforgiving. Though he carried himself with confidence, you noticed a slight, barely there limp in his right leg, an old wound perhaps, one that never healed correctly. You noted that for later, if you ever got out of these shackles. 

You leveled a glare at him that you hoped looked more fearsome than you felt. Mother, your bones ached and your wounds throbbed. “I left the arrows in, but broke off the shaft. Didn’t want to have you healing too quickly.” He spoke with nonchalance, while polishing a dagger, your dagger, you realized as your eyes focused. You pulled at the shackles above your head, and the stranger chuckled at your attempt. 

“What do you want?” Your voice croaked, mouth dry from disuse. The stranger laughed, pointing the blade at you, “I want my fucking court and you’re the key to getting it.” You shook your head then, “I am nothing.” The words sounded foreign on your tongue, a lie on some level, you knew this, but you would be damned before you gave up your family. The stranger clicked his tongue at your response, shaking his head. 

“Surely you don’t believe that? The High Lord doesn’t trust easily, you’ve been seen with his entourage. The Shadowsinger’s whore.” He squatted a few feet from you, eyes tracing from your tied hands down to your face, pausing at your breasts, before trekking down your stomach, thighs, and calves. He was sizing up how much fight you had left.

Your brain had short circuited though, the Shadowsinger’s whore. Mother above, you’d never even kissed. How long had this male watched you and your family? How had none of you seen it? A bitter laugh wretched from your lungs, “sorry to disappoint, but the Shadowsinger isn’t mine.” No matter how desperately I’ve wished it so, you added silently. 

The stranger grinned then, “if you are truly nothing, then I’ll make this a little sweeter.” He took steps towards you, raising the dagger to rest at your chin, the blade pressing to the underside painfully. “You’re far too pretty to be nothing.” He ran the blade along the column of your throat, resting it against your sternum, between your breasts. You pushed yourself further into the tree, back protesting as the arrows burrowed deeper with the movement. You didn’t like the new angle this interaction had taken and your fight or flight instincts were screaming. 

You attempted to reach out to Rhysand, but the bond was dead silent. Your breathing hitched at the realization that you were truly alone in this. The stranger chuckled, dragging the blade down your chest, slicing the leathers, letting the fabric fall open and reveal your undergarments to his greedy view. Your legs moved to kick, but you realized quickly they too were tied. The blade came to rest at your bare stomach, and the stranger dug it in below the navel, causing blood to pool there. You winced, but made no sound. 

“Ah, I was hoping you’d be louder than that,” the stranger smirked, “I’ll have to try harder.” He backed up then and pulled a whip from his back pocket, unfurling it with a crack. Your eyes widened and you brain went silent, fear overtaking your senses. “There it is,” his smile gleamed with violent delight, “there’s the reaction I was hoping for.” He reared an arm back before cracking the whip in your direction. The leather made contact with your torso, a stinging slice appearing along your rib cage. You jerked, but bit your tongue.

He cracked it again and again until you were bloody, slices in your leathers, festering wounds along your breasts, ribs, and stomach. You’d counted to 25 lashes before your brain gave out and your vision blurred from the pain. You looked up to the sky wearily. The sun was gone and the stars were slowly appearing. You smiled at them, remembering Azriel’s words from that night all those years ago. 

You hoped he’d forgive you for not telling him. You hoped he’d understand your fear in revealing that secret, that the bond had snapped for you during the war. When that Hybern soldier’s sword pierced your armor, running through your body to the hilt, and he’d let out a fearsome bellow from across the field at the sight. You felt it then, the golden strumming taking the form of a fated thread linking you two. You been near death when he and Rhys had found you and the only thing you could do was smile. Such an ironic thing it was to die in the arms of your mate. 

Your head lolled to the side as exhaustion threatened to overtake you. “Azriel,” your thoughts ventured, calling down the bond he didn’t even know existed, “I love you.” Darkness swam in the corners of your vision but you swore you felt his responding tug. The Mother was kind for granting that hallucinative mercy in your final hours. Your body gave out, slumping against the shackles and darkness overwhelmed you. 

Azriel was furious. No, furious wasn’t the word, he was a walking time bomb. You were gone. His mate was missing and he was going to explode. As he’d arrived with Rhys and Cassian to the location you’d given them, he could smell you. His eyes searched frantically around the scene before him until they zeroed in on an item hanging from a branch a few dozen paces out. Cloth of some sort? He approached and could detect your scent on it, realizing quickly it was your clothing. A ripped cotton blouse. His fists clenched and he vaguely heard Rhysand speaking to his left. “They must’ve captured her here.” Rhys crouched down to the ground, two fingers swiping the dirt there, before bringing them eye level to examine sample. “Blood,” he muttered, rubbing the hand on the leg of his pants, “she was injured.” Azriel’s heart thundered, he was going to fucking explode. 

He set his shadows work, surveying the forest with rapid precision. They’d cover more ground this way, an army of three operating like a whole infantry. By the time the sun rose to midday, Azriel was ready to begin screaming. They trekked further into the forest, following a line of smoke that was miles deep, originating at a camp somewhere far into the wilds. His shadows murmured to him of a small band of males there, of you, shackled to a fucking tree, arrows buried in your back. He’d nearly lost the contents of his stomach at the information and set to a run alongside Rhysand and Cassian. 

As the three approached the encampment, the sun was nearing dusk. Rhysand had commanded the halt and strategize. There were roughly twenty-five men, all armed. They couldn’t enter this blindly and infuriated, they would lose if they weren’t careful. Azriel hated admitting he was right, his instincts screaming otherwise. Mate, mate, mate, his heart pounded. 

They backed off to a thousand paces out, close enough that they could hear if the troop vacated the premises. As Rhysand and Cassian spoke quietly, Azriel felt his heart thrum. The golden thread there had pulled him closer to you and he could tell you were still alive. Though Rhys couldn’t reach out through your bargain, Azriel’s bond was still alight and warm, he stroked it with gentle affection. You might not feel it, but Gods he would try. 

As the trio retraced their steps to the camp, stars were just beginning to light overhead and Azriel grasped his daggers tightly, knuckles cracking around the hilt. He was going to kill them. Kill them all brutally for taking you, for touching what was his. When they were within a stones throw from the camp he heard it, heard you. “Azriel,” you whispered into his mind. He went stock still, spine ramrod straight, fingers trembling as they gripped his knives. The golden bond vibrated in his chest, and he felt you reaching out through murky waters, against all odds. “I love you,” you said with a soft exhaustion before your side went dark. Azriel’s breathing guttered and he felt high on mirthroot, sick from fae wine, and enraged to the point of explosion all at once. His blue siphons flared brightly from the surge of power. He closed his eyes and reached out to you through the bond, tugging on the thread connecting your souls. He was coming. He was going to save you. 

Rhysand looked to him then, curiosity swimming in his eyes as he took in the Shadowsinger’s sudden stop. Azriel opened eyes, irises alight with fire and shadow, voice grinding with dark threat, “Let’s go.” Rhys nodded and Cassian drew his knives. 

They moved with brutal efficiency, killing male after male until none remained alive. Some had begged, others shouted and scattered their belongings as they set into a run. His shadows had caught them, twisting around their ankles and dragging them back to meet their fate, daggers slicing throats from ear to ear until blood poured like a prized hunt being slaughtered, the Illryian’s hands grasping and snapping necks like twigs. It was a practiced routine for the three of them, who’d trained since they were teens. 

As they stepped through the shrubs to find you, Cassian gasped and Azriel felt his lungs threaten to collapse at the sight. You’d been shackled to a tree at the wrists and ankles and whipped within an inch your life. Wounds glistened with blood along your thighs, soft stomach, ribs, breasts. There had to be thirty lashes. A knife wound was visible at your exposed navel. Your head hung forward unconscious and Azriel’s heart pounded. He wanted to vomit and his hands shook. 

“She said you’d come,” a voice said, emerging from behind the tree you were bound to. The male held a dagger to your throat. This new stranger had to be the leader of this band of idiots. Azriel’s eyes followed the tip of the blade up his arm to the male’s eyes and a growl escaped him as he bared his teeth. The male laughed, “to think she said she was nothing and yet I have both the Shadowsinger and the Lord of Bloodshed before me to save her.”

Azriel’s mind latched on to that piece of information, turning it over in his head. You’d told this male you were nothing? Did you not know Azriel would do anything for you? You were everything. You were his love, light of his life, keeper of his soul, his mate. How alone you must’ve felt, how scared. Azriel’s eyes narrowed, he was going kill him. 

Rhysand spoke then, emerging from behind the two Illyrian brothers, “And may I ask why you’ve abducted a member of my court?” He was in High Lord mode, tone bored, fingers picking at his sleeve. The Hybern male’s smile gleamed at the introduction, “just who I was hoping to see!” 

“Hybern, the old fool, made a few promises in his last days as King,” the male spoke, digging the blade down to your chest, where it rested over your heart. Azriel stared at the blade, eyes tracing to the the hilt. That was your blade, the one he’d given you when you first arrived in Velaris, the one you wielded against Eris, the one you kept strapped to your thigh. Your own knife had been used against you.

“One of which was that I would inherit these lands after your lot were annihilated.” Azriel wanted to laugh at the male’s words, was he serious? “A dead king cannot honor empty promises,” he ground out eyes shifting to the male’s blue eyes. “A dead and headless king cannot gift you shit,” Azriel spat. The male smiled then, a feline grin growing on his lips. “Precisely Shadowsinger, a dead king cannot give me my due, but this little thing can help.” You’d made a noise then, something akin to a whimper as you came to. Eyes wincing then fluttering open as your irises found Azriel’s immediately, some preternatural magnetism existing between the two of you. Then you looked to Cassian and Rhysand, and your eyes swam with apology.

“She awakens!” The male sang, looking to you. Azriel jumped at the opportunity to send his shadows out while the male’s attention was elsewhere. They traced over the ground to you, circling the tree and working at your binds. He sent two others towards the distracted male. “Who knew the Night Court was so attached to a whore,” the male laughed, “I want my lands,” he fixed Rhysand with a glare, “you can have your plaything back in exchange for my seat, High Lord” he sneered. 

Rhysand looked from you to the stranger to the shadow now creeping ever closer to the male. “You must be mistaken,” Rhys said then and Azriel’s shadows wrapped around the male’s neck and wrist simultaneously, whispering violence for touching their mate, forcing the dagger from his grasp and air from his lungs. Azriel tightened them until they heard bones crack in the male’s arm and choked sounds exit his throat, face reddening as oxygen was cut off. “I do not make deals with dim witted cunts,” Rhysand said darkness beginning to surround him, High Lord voice encroaching, “I do not entertain terrorists and I do not take kindly to threats on my family.” 

‘Finish him,’ Rhysand said darkly into Azriel’s mind and the Shadowsinger moved with lightening precision, dagger find purchase as the male’s neck was sliced open and his right hand was removed from his body. The male’s body toddled forward with a choked gurgling, before falling to the ground, lifeless, blood pooling.

Azriel’s gaze fell to you and he softened. His shadows finished picking the lock of the shackles that held your arms and they clicked open, allowing your body to fall into his. “Azriel,” you breathed, voice weary with exhaustion, “I didn’t— I—“ you stuttered, pulling a shaking hand to his face. You swallowed, tracing his cheek with trembling fingers, “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” you murmured, your watery eyes searching his face, memorizing the details of his visage.

Azriel picked you up in his arms and unfurled his wings protectively. “I will always come for you,” he said vehemently, eyes watching your face with intensity. You smiled, a weepy trembling smile as you nodded. Rhysand reached the Shadowsinger’s side then and your eyes moved to his violet ones, “Hi Little One, I’m so sorry we’re late.” You let out a single watery laugh before wincing as the sudden expansion of your chest burned the wounds littering your chest and back. 

“The arrows,” you gasped, “at my back,” you twisted in Azriel’s hold, “please get them out.” Rhysand leaned down to inspect the wounds. “Faebane,” he surmised, that’s why his connection to you had been severed. “We need to get her to Madja, now.” Azriel nodded, allowing Rhys and Cassian to move closer so the High Lord could winnow them home. 

Landing back at the House of Wind had been chaotic. Rhysand shouted immediately to get every healer available and the dining room table had been lined with a sheet, turning the warm family room into a medical ward. You were laid facedown on the table and Azriel took to your side, scarred hands touching your face, keeping you awake as Madja worked to remove the six arrows burrowed in your body. 

You’d screamed. The sound would haunt Azriel for centuries. You begged to make it stop and Madja had apologized softly as she worked faster to remove them while minimizing damage. “I’ve got you,” Azriel said softly, “eyes on me, alright?” He rubbed the hollow under your eye with a scarred thumb and you opened your eyes to lock on his. “No gloves,” you said, smiling tightly, before wincing as Madja applied local anesthetic to an arrow wound. Azriel smiled, eyes a little watery. “Not with you,” he whispered shaking his head, “never with you.” You smiled at him and the sight set Azriel’s heart to fluttering.

Later, after the arrows had been removed and wounds bandaged, you’d been given a strong herb tonic for pain that set your head swimming as exhaustion overtook you. Azriel carried you his room, laying you gently onto the mattress and covered you with the duvet. He leaned down then, breathing in your scent as he placed a kiss to your forehead, nuzzling his nose to the Winter white hair there. He would tell you. When you awoke, he would bare his soul to you. 

You woke with a groan. Fucking Gods, your body ached with the effort it took to roll over. “Easy,” a voice came from the corner of the room. Your breath gasped out of you as your eyes raced to the figure there. “Azriel,” you breathed. The male smiled warmly at you and stepped forward to rest at the edge of the mattress. You pushed up in the bed, the wound at your shoulder screaming from the exertion. Once in a sitting position, you rested your back on the headboard as you looked at him. “For taking out a small militia, you seemed to be decently uninjured,” you said smiling tightly, memories of the stranger and his whip haunting your mind. He snorted a small laugh, “Yes well,” he looked down then, thumbs fiddling with each other, chest heating, “I had something worth fighting for.” 

He looked back to you and your cheeks had grown pink, a small pleased smile at your lips. “I heard you, you know,” he said softly, turning enough to rest a hand on your thigh, thumb drawing small, soothing circles there. The heat generated in the touch sent a spark to your belly. Oh, you were fucked. “I heard you in my head, through the bond,” he said eyes watching his thumb as it traced on your bare skin hypnotically. 

“You know then?” You whispered, breath skittering out of you. You were scared to death of the trajectory the conversation was taking, your heart preparing for the best and the worst simultaneously. Azriel’s eyes dragged up your form to your face and a smile broke over his lips, one that caused your heart to ignite. Your Mother had once told you the heart was an organ of fire and you’d laughed, never having cause to believe such a statement. You understood now. 

“I—“ Azriel started, before clearing his throat, turning his body to face you in full, a knee pulled up on the mattress, touching yours. “In the whole time I have known you— two centuries, Little One,” he looked at you pointedly, “you have been my dearest friend, my greatest comfort, my confidant, and the person I admire most in this Gods forsaken world.” He breathed deeply, a whoosh exiting his lips as his hand tightened around your thigh. “The times when you were lost to me have been some of the most painful moments I’ve experienced.” 

Your eyes began to water, and you moved a hand to rest atop his own, thumb circling the scarred skin at his wrist. He took a breath then and the air shifted between you, his mouth opening and closing, as if he was gathering his confidence for what he was about to say next. “I have loved for you so long that I’d given up all hope of reciprocation.” The words shattered through you as all air escaped your lungs, guts swooping down as heat alighted there. “I felt the bond the night Eris came for you,” he continued, eyes watching your entwined hands. Your body went still and a startled laugh exited your mouth. Azriel’s eyes flew to yours questioningly. 

“Sorry,” you chuckled again, “I’m just realizing how fucking stupid we’ve been.” You lolled your to the side, watching him with loving eyes. “I’ve been in love with you for almost two centuries, Azriel,” you smiled, “I thought you wouldn’t want me.” Azriel’s eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing in disbelief, two then three times. You thought for a second to compare him to the guppy fish that swam in schools along the banks of the Sidra but refrained. 

He pushed forward then, hands coming to cup your face, pinky and ring fingers resting in the hollow below your ear, thumbs stroking your cheeks. “How could I not? You’re everything,” he whispered, searching your face, conviction showing in his eyes. You couldn’t stop the smile that overtook your mouth as you spoke, “and you’re my mate.” His eyes moved to your lips, glazing before they moved back to your eyes. “As you are mine,” he spoke confidently. 

Your eyes watched each other for a long second, “I really hope you’ll kiss me this time,” your hand trailed up his arm, fingers teasing. “Mother knows I’ve been dreaming of it for far too long.” He surged forward, lips meeting yours and you thought you might float away. You gasped and his tongue moved in, claiming your mouth, your taste with his own. 

He pulled away minutes later, a little breathless, “Sorry to have kept you waiting, my love,” he spoke, resting his forehead to yours with a smile, watching your dazed expression, pink cheeks, as your lips split into a grin. Your hand moved to the front of his button down, fisting in the material there, giving an experimental tug. “Kiss me like that again and I’ll consider forgiving you.” 

The laugh that came out of him was golden, and you pushed yourself to memorize it. Azriel, Lord of Shadows, Spymaster for the Night Court, Rhysand’s right hand and Illyrian warrior was soft for you. He loved you. He was your mate. You’d be giddy about it for the rest of your life. 

Your healing had been slower than you would’ve liked. The faebane had done serious damage but with Madja’s help, the scarring was minimized. The lashes at your front took two weeks to heal, the arrow wounds took three. Three fucking weeks. Meanwhile all you could think about was your mate. He hadn’t left your side in the interim. Helping you take steps, applying the wound creams that Madja had left in small glass pots, keeping you fed, making you laugh, telling you how much he loved you daily. Mother above, you were going to ruin this male. 

You walked into the kitchen at the end of week three, the only evidence of your wounds now in the slight limp of your right leg and twinge in your left shoulder. The marks at your stomach and chest had diminished into barely there, silver scores. Cassian was sitting at the small table in the corner as you entered. “Hi Cass,” you greeted, “seen my mate around this morning?” It was fun calling him that, a small part of your chest swelling with pride each time. 

Cassian smirked, “He’s been…… out.” Your eyes narrowed, he was being evasive. “Out where?” You asked, grabbing an apple and hopping up on the counter to watch the male. He shrugged, “No idea, Little One.” You smirked, “I know where you sleep Cassian,” you started, “is it really wise to lie to me?” Nesta strode into the kitchen, “What’s he done now?” She asked laughing. “Hey! I’ll have you know I’ve done nothing!” The male exclaimed, “She’s interrogating me on the whereabouts of her maaate.” He dragged out the vowel of the last word mockingly. Nesta took her seat next to Cassian and laughed, “Ah, him.” She looked to you then, “he’ll be around to collect you soon.” 

You looked between the two, suspicion dripping from your features as you took another bite from the apple in your palm. “You two are being weird,” you stated. Nesta shrugged, nudging Cassian who smiled at her. “Just wait,” she said softly, “maybe cook yourself a meal.” Cassian’s mouth quirked with a laugh he restrained. “Right, I’m leaving, cause whatever this is,” you waved a hand at them, “is deeply odd.” You hopped off the counter and strolled to the exit.  You heard them laughing softly once you were out of the room, making you roll your eyes at their antics.

You’d gone to the library after leaving the kitchen and found Elain already there. Her eyes moved to you upon your entrance and she closed her book, middle finger marking her spot. “How are you feeling?” She asked softly, eyes surveying your body for lingering damage. You sighed, falling into the sofa across from her. “I’m better,” you said quietly, “the pain is gone, scars are minimal.” You turned your eyes to her, she looked brighter than the last time you’d seen her. “How are you?” You asked in return. She smiled sweetly. “Better,” she echoed you and you wanted to laugh. “I’ve been exchanging letters with Lucien,” she added and your ears perked up.

“That’s great, Elain,” you rest your chin on a closed fist, watching her. She shifted and sat her book to the side, page forgotten. “I want to tell you something,” she said quietly, fingers twiddling with each other. She looked... nervous? “I’m all ears,” you said softly. 

“I had a vision while you were gone,” she started and took a deep breath. “It was so muddled at first, I couldn’t tell who it was, but then I saw you. Your hair was longer, you stood taller, and your belly was round.” The breath left your body in a powerful exhale. She looked to you again, eyes watching yours, “You were pregnant and happy and in love,” she said quietly, as if the words in themselves were fragile. Your hands trembled and you moved them under your thighs, her eyes didn’t miss the action. 

“I couldn’t understand why the Mother would send me a vision like that, I saw Feyre’s pregnancy, but we’re sisters, you know?” You nodded. “Then I realized I recognized the tattooed arm I’d seen wrap around you, knew it was Azriel.” Your eyes watered, and you hiccuped out a small laugh. “I’ve known for a while you two were fated, but the Mother was telling me for certain. I hope you know how happy we are for you.” She finished and moved to sit next you, small hand touching your knee. 

“When they brought you in that night, I thought the Mother had lied to me, that it was a vision of what could have been, that you wouldn’t make it.” You’d never heard Elain speak at length in this way, and you thought you might stop breathing. “I’ve never been happier to see you than when Azriel brought you in to read days later, my sweet friend.” You surged forward, throwing your arms around the female and she returned the gesture warmly. 

You sat back and looked at her then. “Thank you,” you said, voice small, a little watery. She nodded before turning to resume her original spot at the end of the sofa, picking up her book and opening it to the page she’d left off. 

In the hours that followed, you’d returned to the kitchen, grateful to find Cassian and Nesta had left. You took Nesta’s advice, gathering the ingredients to build a small berry tart. It had just gone in the oven when your mate appeared in the doorway.

“Hello love,” he said casually, leaning against the door jamb. You startled, turning on your heel to find him smiling at you. “Where have you been?” You asked walking towards him and running your hands around his midsection in a hug, head resting against his chest. His arm came around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your hair, breathing in your scent. “That, my dearest one, is a surprise.” 

You looked up chin resting against his chest, watching his face. “It’d better be good, I baked for you,” you said, smiling softly at the Spymaster. His eyes moved to the oven then and back to you, irises darkening, as his pupils blew a little wide. “You… baked?” He asked disbelieving, “didn’t know you knew how to bake,” he followed up playfully. You gasped and shoved him, “for that, you can starve, have fun finding another mate to bake for you.” He laughed heartily and caught your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, eyes swimming with warm affection as he pressed a kiss there. Gods, the action made lust swoop in your stomach, heat spreading. 

“The fool I’d be to turn away such a female,” he said, voice deepening, lips running across your knuckles with each word. “Azriel” you breathed. “Yes?” He offered in return, still smiling, moving your knuckles back and forth against his hot mouth. “Please tell me this surprise involves you bedding me.” A growl creeped out of his throat, the thought of you under him sending lust racing down his spine and to his groin. 

“It might,” he said quietly, lips resuming their exploration, tracking small kisses from your knuckles, to the joint of your thumb, the inside of your wrist where Rhys’ tattoo lingered, up the soft skin of your arm, to your elbow, until he reached the skin of your shoulder. His lips traced over the raised skin there, a small nip above the scar as he traced north to your collarbone. You’d gone to putty in his hands, head rolling to the side to bare your throat. He pressed soft kisses there, pausing at your pulse point to trace the area with his warm tongue, a whimper escaping your mouth. 

“If this is going to become a regular thing, I’ll need you two to relocate to the River House,” a voice came from behind you and you jumped in shock, but your mate, he let out a possessive growl before turning on the intruder. Rhysand laughed airily and folded his arms over his chest. “Easy, brother,” he smiled, causing Azriel to roll his eyes. You blinked a little dazed, and pulled away from the Shadowsinger. “You’re gonna make me burn my fucking tart,” you shoved him with an arm and laughed as you turned to resume your place at the oven. 

Azriel instructed you to dress comfortably and be ready in a hour as he kissed your knuckles one last time and exited the kitchen. Butterflies roamed freely in your stomach at the thought of what he had planned. You’d returned to your quarters after removing the tart from the oven and portioning it into a small travel sized container. You were going to accept the bond, and your nerves were alight with anxious excitement. After you dressed in a lightweight linen dress, you packed a small bag with your remaining creams, and the boxed tart you’d prepared earlier. 

You descended the stairs to find Azriel waiting at the base, his wings standing proudly behind him, shadows skittering around his feet. At the sight of you they raced to meet on the bottom step, running up your legs, around your waist and into your hair. A laugh escaped you as one nuzzled into the space behind your ear. Azriel watched fondly. “They love you,” he said smiling, taking a step to meet you, “ever since the bond snapped, I’ve had the hardest time reining them back from touching you.” 

You reached a hand out to meet his, interlacing your fingers. “They’re cute, but you’re cuter,” you said with gentle affection. A shadow pinched at your waist and Azriel’s cheeks went a little pink as he laughed. 

“Will you tell me what the surprise is?” You asked as he walked you toward the training balcony. “I’m afraid I’m very poorly dressed for training,” you joked. He snorted, “no, we’re not training.” He came to rest at the railing and then turned to you, running a hand up your arm, fingers moving to hold the back of your neck, warm palm heating the skin there, thumb grazing your jawline. “Amongst many things I’ve been terribly late for recently, I realize I owe you a date.” 

Your face went a little puzzled and you looked to his eyes. “A date?” You questioned. He nodded, “I was supposed to take you flying.” Realization dawned on your features and a smile overtook your lips, each tooth shining in the setting sun. “I wanted to kiss you that night too,” you admitted laughing, remembering how desperate you’d been for his touch and attention. He smiled softly, “you have no idea how angry I was with Rhys for calling me away.” Your eyes widened, still in disbelief that this male wanted you return. It seemed both a millennia in the making and still so new and fragile. 

Azriel snuck an arm around your waist and brought you up into the stretch of his firm body. His other hand tracing down your hip, then thigh, to curve under your knees as he picked you up. His wings unfurled and he shot into the air. A shaky laugh startled out of you and you gripped him tighter, your arms winding around his neck. His wings flapped in thunderous bursts, taking you higher, until you could see the entirety of Velaris spread below, the Sidra flowing like a snake through the winding city. Your breath left you in awe. “The Peregryn was right,” you said loud enough for him to hear and he smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple.

The flight was short, but it took you to the rural banks of the Sidra on the outskirts of the city, just before it emptied into the sea. You could see ships sailing into the harbor, moonlight beginning to trickle across the water. This was undeniably special, you thought, no one would see you up here and you felt like this was the edge of the world itself. You turned to Azriel, finding his eyes already watching you. “Thank you,” you said softly, leaning into him, his chin meeting your forehead as you moved your body to rest alongside the length of his. His hand came to rest at the small of your back, pinky stretching to graze the curve of your bottom. Wherever this was going, you were very interested. 

He turned and grasped your hand, pulling you back up the hill and away from the view, towards a field of wildflowers and grasses. There, in the middle, a blanket had been laid out, small candles lit to illuminate the setting. A basket sat in one corner, a bottle of fae wine held within with an assortment of pastries, breads, and cheeses. You realized quickly that your mate, the male you’d loved for damn near two centuries, was courting you. The thought thrilled you. 

He led you to the blanket and motioned for you to sit next him. “I must confess, I never took you for a romantic,” you said looking from the candles, to the basket, and then to him. He was watching you again. He smiled, laughing a bit nervously, “I’m a lot of things,” he said and your eyebrow quirked. “Oh yeah? Like what?” You challenged him and he loved you for it. You made him feel easy to love, you made loving fun and freeing. Azriel had once only thought freedom could be found in fucking and flying, then he’d found you and he knew it was there too. In the smile of your lips, in the thrill of your touch, in the ease of your love. 

“Well,” he started, moving his wings to lean into you, pressing a kiss to your exposed shoulder. The action caused you to shiver. “I’m a spymaster.” You snorted, “no shit.” A laugh rumbled in his chest. “I’m a bit shy as you well know, I’m quite fond of dancing, I’m—” he hummed the last letter, pausing his thoughts and moving his lips up your neck. “I’m in love with you,” he said biting into the flesh at the juncture of your collarbone and throat, cock hardening at the sound that rolled out of your mouth. “I’m going to take you right here, on this blanket, under the stars.” 

You gasped, your hands moved find purchase in the hair at the back of his head, fingers winding through the strands, nails dragging at his scalp. His nose ran the length of your jawline before his lips found yours. He rumbled a small hum the instant his mouth touched your own. At first it was a gentle press, teasing you as he had done today in the kitchen at the House of Wind. The adrenaline racing up your spine made you feel like you might vibrate out of your skin. His hand reached up then, threading broad fingers into your hair as he took the kiss deeper. Tonguing the bottom of your lip until your mouth opened, his tongue stroking your own. Humming with contentment, he tilted your head, deepening the kiss at a new angle that had heat swooping down to your core. 

You brought your left hand to his shoulder, fisting your fingers in the fabric there and pulling him closer. He understood your intention and leaned you back into the blanket, pleasure alighting each nerve as his body pressed into your own. He eased up on your lips and began a slow trek south, pulling the strap of your dress down the curve of your shoulder, leaving a love bite there that had you gasping. He kissed down the bust line of the dress, laving his tongue at the swell of your breast. Your breath was coming in pants and you pressed yourself up on your elbows as he moved further south, fingertips tracing the hem of your dress that had risen to the middle of your thigh. 

He looked back to you and smiled, mischief playing in his eyes as he ran his hands up your thighs, the slow drag pulling the dress with it. “I’ve been thinking about your cunt for centuries,” he said, his lips on your knee, pressing insistently as they moved north. “I’ve been dreaming of making you come on my tongue since I met you.”

Your breath leaves you in one fell swoop as you feel his tongue at the juncture of your hip and thigh. His mouth was insistent at skin there, tonguing the lace of your panties before pulling them down your legs and off entirely. He picked up a foot, placing it to his chest as he traced the long line of your body with hungry eyes. You were panting already, dressed rucked up around your waist, straps fallen down your arms and breasts heaving. His gaze flowed south and landed on your pink cunt, glistening, begging for him. His eyes went back to your face then, and his titled his head to the side, “Will you let me eat your pretty little cunt?” He asked fingertips tracing the scars of your calf with reverence. He brought your foot up, kissing the inside of the ankle, then nosing his way over your scarred calf, suckling at the skin there. “Please,” he added, eyes moving back to yours as his mouth continued his ministrations. 

“Mother above, Azriel,” you breathed and a laughed startled out of you, “you are mouthy.” He chuckled darkly then, nipping at your knee, taking special care to press a gentle kiss at the new scar there. “Is that a no then?” He said softly and your head fell back with a groan, exposing your neck to his view. “As if,” you said, head pulling back up and lolling to the side to rest on your shoulder. “I’ve thought about it too, and if you back out now I will explode.” He laughed again, freely this time, forehead resting on your thigh. 

His eyes find yours again, and he kept them there as he traced his lips north. He nosed the juncture of your cunt and inner thigh, running a tongue along your mound. You gasped and eyes narrowed, watching him with rapt attention. He pressed a kiss to the top of your slit and his hands come up to open you to him, pulling the lips apart and tonguing the collected moisture there. Your head fell back as your elbows gave way, falling flat against the blanket. 

“You taste better than I imagined,” he said before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. The moan that left you had his hips pushing into the ground to find relief as his cock begged for release. His tongue flicked against your clit as he sucked and hummed. He thought this might become his favorite place in all of Prythian. He thought that every bad thing that had happened in his life seemed insignificant now that he was able to worship freely between your thighs. He traced fingers up and paused to wet them on his tongue, before pushing his middle and ring finger in to the second knuckle, pulling them out and scissoring them back in again. His tongue found your sweet little button for a second time that night and he laved at it, listening to your cries as he pushed you to the brink. Azriel’s life had been a nightmare, but between your thighs, mouth on your cunt, walls fluttering around his fingers, he thought he’d been blessed by the Mother herself. 

Your hips rocked up in time with his fingers and you cried as your gut twisted, the coil there tightening. “Az-“ you gasped. “Azriel,” you went a little whiny on the vowels of his name, and your hand reached down to thread your fingers into his hair, nails scratching and tugging the strands. He hummed, the vibration sending shocks up your spine. “Azriel, baby,” you gasped, coming up on an elbow again, rutting your hips into his face as he took you higher. He didn’t let up, suckling at your cunt, fingers finding the spongy spot on the backside of your clit that made the world go blank “Azriel!” you gasped again, hips stuttering out, “Fuck, fuck— oh.” In seconds you were reaching your peak, hips faltering, thighs twitching, toes curling into the hard planes of his back. 

He pulled his mouth off of you, pressing kisses to your pubic bone as he moved north up your stomach. He eyes were alight with desire, the male was pure want and you were his last meal. He pulled his fingers from your cunt and trailed them up to rest at your neck as he slotted his body between your thighs and kissed you. The hedonism of tasting yourself on his mouth made you wetter, cunt pressing into the hard line of his cock, still restricted in his trousers. He moaned at the contact, mouth leaving yours to rest his head against your chin and gather himself. The sound sent a pleasurable shock directly to your core. You grasped the hand at your throat and brought his fingers up and to your mouth, tongue laving at them before taking them to the knuckle, and pulling back slow, hollowing out your cheeks and sucking, keeping your eyes on his. He bared his teeth the sight and ground his hard cock into you, the friction on your clit making your thighs twitch. 

“My sweet little mate,” he cooed. “Love of my life,” he nosed your cheek, his fingers still in your mouth. “All my dreaming has been put to shame it would seem,” he pulled his fingers from your mouth and replaced them with his tongue, his hands flying to his belt. He growled in struggle and you ventured a laugh. His eyes found yours and his jaw ticked, “keep laughing, sweet girl, I’ll fuck your throat next and you won’t come.” Your eyes went a little wide and a feline grin appeared on your face. “Mouthy indeed,” you said with glee as he finally got the buckle undone and pushed the pants down and off. 

His shirt went next and your fingers traced up his exposed arms to his shoulders. “I’ve seen you shirtless a dozen times, and you still take my breath away,” you said softly, a hand resting on his pectoral. He laughed and went a little pink, before he pushed your dress up your body and over your head, leaving you bare. “I’ve always been impressed by your ability to so disarming,” he said, mouth finding the space above your breast as his hands came to cup them, fingers toying with the nipples. “It’s my favorite thing about you, you see me in a way I can’t even see myself,” he followed up. 

Your eyes watered at the admission and your hands found his face, bringing his mouth back to yours as you kissed him again, tongue entwining with his. Your hands grasped his shoulders, as your leg found his hip and you pushed him over, onto his back. Your hands came to rest on his chest as you settled your weight on his lower abdomen. You could feel his manhood standing to attention, insistent at the curve of your ass and you reached around to grasp it, pushing your chest out for his greedy eyes. Taking him in long strokes, you ran your hand up and down, circling your thumb around the head. His eyes screwed shut as his breathing shallowed. 

“Wanna know a secret, baby?” You offered, rocking your hips in time with your strokes. He whined then, the Lord of Shadows keened a little whine for you that had you ready to come right there. “Last time we hosted a gala, that night before Hybern,” you were panting, “all I could think about was taking you to bed.” His eyes opened and hazel was gone blacked out in pure desire. His hands found your hips and his own began to move in time with you. “I thought about riding you,” you said, twisting your hand in a way that had his breath guttering out of him. “I thought you might love me in the way you looked at me.” His eyes softened and he leaned up, hands tracing up your spine as he pressed kisses to your chest. 

“I loved you that night and every night since,” he said before tonguing a nipple and sucking it into his mouth. “That dress you wore, my color, had me hard for a week.” You laughed then removing your hand from his cock and bringing both to his face, so you could kiss him. His hands slipped to your ass then, palming the cheeks as his tongue moved in tandem with yours. When you moved back from him, a string of salvia still connected you two, you reached up to comb fingers through his hair gently.

“I brought you something,” you said quietly, looking to the corner of the quilt where your bag had dropped ages ago. His brow furrowed, confusion showing in his features. “You don’t have to, but I brought some of that tart. If you want,” you offered the statement nervously, as if there was still a chance for rejection. Azriel’s heart went soft and his brain turned to mush.

“You want to accept it?” He questioned, hands sliding up your back and to your waist. You smiled and looked at him incredulously, “Of course I want to accept it, it feels like I’ve waited a millennia for you.” You’d laughed a bit and that feeling of home raced through him again. Gods, he was fucked. 

You leaned off his lap, pulling the strap of your bag to you and unzipped it. There, packaged in a little glass container, lay a small slice of the berry tart you’d fretted over earlier in the day. “Nesta made some stupid comment about ‘cooking’ when I’d asked where you were,” you laughed in hindsight at the female’s leading words. “She knew because Cassian knew, he helped me with the food and candles,” Azriel murmured pushing your hair up and over your shoulder. 

He pulled the container from your grasp then and opened it before picking the pastry up with his fingers, the same fingers that had been inside you minutes ago. Eyes on yours he took the first bite, your heart thrumming as the golden thread of your bond lit up like the sunrise. His eyes never left yours as he consumed the pastry in four bites, swallowing and pulling his fingers into his mouth at the remaining sweetness there. 

The bond between you two was shining, strong and thrumming with love. ‘Hi,’ you tried, your thoughts reaching out to him. He smiled, laughing freely, and his voice came through clearly, ‘Hi, Little One.’ You choked out a laugh, eyes watering as you leaned forward to kiss him, tasting the berries on his tongue. ‘Can I make love to my mate now?’ He questioned down the bond and you laughed again. His hands were already tracing your hips as you leaned forward, hand reaching underneath to guide him into your cunt. Lowering yourself down, you rocked forward once then twice in order to take him to the hilt. 

Mother above, he was big. His cock was thick and filled you wholly, pushing against your cervix making your eyes flutter in pleasure. You thought of the comment Mor had made about wingspan once decades ago and you heard him laugh, “I’m flattered, truly,” he said playfully, reading your thoughts and nipping at your shoulder.

You rose up again and set to riding him slowly, hips moving in long strokes as his hands traced your ass, pulling at the flesh there in time with your movements. You gave a experimental squeeze of your walls, and he keened a loud moan that had you speeding up your flow. “You keep that up, Little One and I won’t last,” he panted at your throat. “That’s rather the point,” you laughed breathlessly, your own hand moving to cup your breast, the other sliding down to circle your clit. His eyes traced the view greedily, moving down to the point where you connected, watching your cunt take him in full, his cock glistening with your shared wetness. He bared his teeth at the sight, a rumble lighting in his chest. 

Just as your walls began to flutter with your impending orgasm, he grasped you and flipped you to your back, pulling your hands from your body and entwining your fingers with his own on each side of your head. He ground his pelvis in deep and your legs hitched higher around his waist. “Azriel, fucking Gods,” you called out at the switch in angle, the tip of his cock grinding into your cervix. He hummed at your throat, teeth marking you there as his hips pulled out and pushed in, grinding each time he bottomed out into you. His wings flared behind him and you thought you’d never seen a more beautiful sight. 

“You take me so well, my love,” he panted, “you were made for me.” You whined then, cunt fluttering around him as he bottomed out deep and held it there, grinding his pubic bone into your clitoris. The pleasure raced up your spine and you thought you’d never be able to leave this place, might have to keep him inside you forever. He growled, reading your thoughts. “You want me to fuck this cunt forever?” He asked aloud leaning up, pulling his hands from yours. 

You whined at the loss, but the sound died as he pulled your legs up his waist to his shoulders, kissing the scarred calf. He drew his cock out, only to slam back in. “Fuck,” you moaned out, voice going up two octaves. “You want me between your thighs for the rest of my days?” He said again, hips moving faster, your hands moving to your tits as they bounced from the impact. His eyes watched the movement and he bared his teeth again, turning his head to bite into the flesh of your calf. 

“Azriel!” You called out again, pleasure zipped up your spine and you felt your stomach tighten. “Az, baby, I’m so close.” He chuckled darkly. “Be a good girl and come on my cock,” he said as his fingers traced down your leg to find your clit, rubbing the bundle in quick, timed circles. “Az- I-,” you barely got the words out before your orgasm overtook you, a long moan exiting your mouth as your cunt tightened around him, he ground into you and worked you through it, before dropping your legs back to his hips and pistoning deeper.

“My sweet mate,” he gasped at the skin of your throat, mouth tracing up to find yours, hands finding purchase on your thighs as he pulled you open, allowing him dive deeper. “My darling love,” he moaned and his tongue moved with yours, your hips pushing up to meet his thrusts, walls fluttering against his velvet length with the remnants of your orgasm. 

You ventured your hand up his shoulder to the base of a wing and traced your fingers up the membrane to the bone. His eyes twisted shut, and he keened a low primal whine that had your cunt ready to come again. At the tightening of your walls, he groaned dark and deep, shadows seeping from him, as he pushed in, grinding against the innermost portion of you. His hips pulled out slightly and then pushed back in as his cock kicked, come spurting against your walls. He panted against your throat as his hands released their hold on your thighs and moved up your body before grasping your throat. He moved up to lean over you and his eyes found your own. He gave an experimental thrust of his hips and your eyes widened. Fucking Cauldron, he was still hard. 

He laughed then, nuzzling at your mouth as he nipped at your bottom lip. “I’m giving you five,” his voice was deeper than you’d ever heard it, “and then I’m eating my come from your cunt and fucking you until the sun comes up.” 

You gasped out a laugh as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. ‘They call it frenzy for a reason,’ you thought, kissing along his cheekbone and to his mouth. Gods, you were fucked. 

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[amandacanwrite]

I would like to share a few head canons for Gale Dekarios being in love with tav/you. If you liked this one and have a request for another character let me know. These ones have just been percolating for a bit.

In Battle

He tries very hard to stay near you. He doesn’t like it when you go off on your own. He knows he doesn’t quite have the strength of Karlach or the sure footedness of Astarion, but he’s not just going to let you fight everyone on your own.

Sometimes he gets a little hurt that you always put yourself in harms way/take so much of the damage on the battlefield. Don’t you know that losing you would destroy him?

You have never witnessed it, but according to the other party members he goes feral if you’re knocked unconscious.

When you wake up it’s always with your head cradled in his lap as shadowheart works on the worst of the wounds.

He does this thing with his magic where he makes his hands really cold. It feels nice on your feverish skin as he gently smooths your hair away from your face, you don’t know why you feel so nauseous and sweaty after you black out but this little gesture helps you come back smoothly.

He has a hard time sleeping after a rough encounter. He keeps waking up and making sure you’re still breathing. In the end he gives up on sleeping and just reads by the fire, calming his nerves to the sound of your steady, stable breathing.

In Camp

He is hilariously fussy about what you eat.

“No, you ABSOLUTELY CANNOT subsist off of a loaf of bread, three olives and a bottle of wine. We are no longer young scholars barely SCRAPING by—“

Very resourceful when it comes to what you can scrape together out of barrels around camp. You were very skeptical when you watched him putting a variety of different bones into a cauldron as you left him back in camp one day. But you came back to a rich stew full of potatoes, some wild rice and even some cut up apple in the mix.

He likes it when you play with his hair. But he has to very pointedly avoid it if he’s in the middle of reading up on something.

“Darling, are you certain you’re not practiced in the arcane arts? I do think you’ve got some magic in those fingertips of yours, at the very least, with how quickly they can put me to sleep.”

When You’re Alone

It’s simple. He worships you. Perhaps it’s because his last lover was a goddess but it seems to come easy for him; the reverent words, the gentle touches, the utter devotion. Sometimes you catch him just… looking at you. His eyes softly hooded, a relaxed curve to his lips. It’s your favorite to ask what’s on his mind when he looks at you like that.

“Hm? Oh, nothing much. I’ve just been observing. Did you know you purse your lips when you’re reading something that you disagree with? Yes—hah—just like that.”

He loves to read WITH you. Especially loves to show you some of his favorite tomes. He’ll get you all nestled up against him and hold the book down in front of you. He reads much faster than you, so he busies himself kissing behind your ear or playing with your hair until you turn the page.

Gods does he love it when you ask him questions about something to do with magic. He loves watching the glint in your eye when he’s helped you understand something.

You love it when you get him rolling on a topic of theory that you know he doesn’t get to talk about much. Sometimes he loses you when he gets into the minutiae, but he’s so damn cute when he’s ranting about the wonder in the world.

In Intimate Moments

(Potential NSFW below.)

Of course it is not a surprise that he’s a generous lover. What is a surprise is how demanding he can be when he feels like it. He knows you are no stranger to a challenge and he loves to make things more exciting by presenting you with one.

“Of course I’m aware of our companions in camp. But it’s not as if we can afford ourselves more privacy. You’re just going to have to quiet those lovely little sounds you make while I touch you… let’s see… it was here wasn’t it? Ah, ah… shhhh, my love. Those pointy ears of Astarion’s might pick even that tiny sound.”

Gods does he know how to string words together to leave you completely undone.

Sometimes foreplay is mostly talk. He can get you going without even touching you.

“My love, I’ve not been able to stop thinking of the ways I want to touch you all day. Shall I tell you what’s been on my mind?”

His breath tickles against your ear as his hands smooth over your clothed body, telling you how he wants to take you. It’s all the more flustering when you know he always keeps his word.

Love making always starts with a kiss, deep and slow.

You feel him smile into the kiss when he slips his fingers into the front of your trousers and he feels just how aroused he’s made you.

“You are exquisite. A delicacy of the highest quality. Do you know that?”

He’s not one to bang it out for a quickie. He doesn’t like to feel like he’s stealing his time with you, or like he’s a young man again and hastily getting whatever he can before heading back to the dormitories. Every touch, every word, every thrust is slow and deliberate. He wants to relish the feeling of it all. He wants to soak you in.

Somehow, he always smells good. Like cinnamon and tea and… some earthen, herbaceous scent you cant place.

So many cuddles after you’re done.

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