#maybe they give it to him as some form of offering?

[serpentandlily]

congratulations on 3k followers!

would love to request Azriel x Reader (Fem!Reader if that’s okay with you), some good ole’ angst ending in fluff please!

Az knows reader is his soulmate and doesn’t say anything, reader either finds out because someone in the IC told her or the bond snaps for her, and she thinks Az didn’t tell her because he’s ashamed of her but really he’s ashamed of himself and thought reader wouldn’t want him.

I know this has been done before but I love seeing different versions of it and know yours would be amazing!!

The Shadowsinger’s Secret

Summary: After years spent trying to befriend the shadowsinger to no avail, you are finally ready to give up after accidentally overhearing him speak poorly of you. But when a gossip session exposes a life-changing secret, you realize you can’t let go of Azriel just yet. 

Warnings: some miscommunication, fluff

A/n: Hope you enjoy this! Thanks for sending in a request and for your kind words!

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Meeting Mor at Rita’s during the time Velaris was warded and locked down had completely changed your life. 

A close friendship had bloomed between the two of you. She introduced you to her two other friends, Cassian and Azriel, when she invited you to a dinner at the townhouse they all shared. After getting over the shock of meeting the fae so close to the High Lord, you were quick to make friends with them—or well, with Cassian at least. 

Although Azriel didn’t seem like much of a talker in the first place, you began to notice the extra ways he would go about avoiding you. Quickly leaving a room with lousy excuses when you entered, avoiding eye contact when he did address you—like when he’d ask you to pass the potatoes since that was really the only time he talked to you, or pretending not to notice you when you would see him out and about in the city. 

At first, you chalked it up to him being severely introverted and shy. Not to mention, all three of them were struggling with the fact that their brother and friend was stuck under the rule of Amarantha. It hurt your feelings, but you brushed it off, figuring he would open up to you over time. But that time never seemed to come even after Rhysand returned. 

The first few months after Rhysand finally came home, you were quick to form a friendship with him despite him being your High Lord. You two shared similar traumas. You both had terrible fathers growing up. He had lost his sister, you had lost your brother—the reason you’d moved away from home to live here. But perhaps the best and most silly reason you got along so well was the fact that the two of you loved to gossip. 

Even after making friends with both his brothers and Mor, Azriel did not warm up to you. He still avoided you. Still made sure to always sit at the other end of the table from you. Made sure to never be left in a room alone with you. And he would never be the one to offer to fly you up to the House of Wind, even when it would’ve been more convenient. 

You were beginning to think maybe he just didn’t like you. And then those feelings were confirmed with the appearance of the Archeron sisters. 

You had seen the way Azriel treated Elain, always offering to keep her company or escort her to places. He sat with her at dinners, listened to her talk about her hobbies, and even defended her when a bad word was said about her. Elain was easy to get along with, sure, but so were you. At least, you had thought you were. But Azriel was making you question everything you had ever thought of yourself. 

He even became friends with Nesta, who had been nothing short of a viper when she first arrived in Velaris. That was when you finally let go of the notion of ever being his friend, ever getting him to even so much as look your way. He didn’t like you. For whatever reason, a reason you were too scared to ask the others about, he didn’t like you. 

You had gone to such great lengths to be his friend. Gave him presents on Winter Solstice, brought his favorite treats from the bakery to leave in the kitchen for him every sunday, tried to converse with him during dinners, included him whenever you invited the group out for drinks. You had tried your hardest and it had been met with pure apathy. You eventually found out that he wouldn’t even eat any of the treats you brought, leaving them all for Cassian.  

That really drove the nail into the coffin. He didn’t even want to touch something because it had been from you. It hurt more than you’d like to admit.

You were currently making your way to Rhys’s office for a meeting about how your mentorship with Madja was going but more importantly, to share the hot gossip you’d heard when two voices caught your attention. 

You paused in your tracks when you heard your name mentioned, glancing at the closed door to Rhys’s personal library. 

“You should at least try and talk to her, Azriel.”

“You don’t understand, Elain.” You heard Azriel respond. “I can’t.” 

“It’s not fair that you're making judgements without even knowing her. She’s pretty, she’s kind—Y/n is a great girl!”

Your heart was wildly beating in your chest, both panic and nausea turning over your stomach. 

“I do know her and she’s not. She's not pretty or kind. She’s not a great girl, she’s—”

You fled before you could hear the rest of Azriel’s response, tears burning in your eyes, chest tight. 

So none of it had been in your head. Azriel truly disliked you. You didn’t know what you did to offend him or make him hate you.

You swallowed, thickly, wiping away the tears that had slid down your cheeks, trying to compose yourself before you entered Rhys’s office. The last thing you wanted was for him to ask you why you were upset.

But you could do nothing about the nausea in your stomach, or the hoarse feeling in your throat that made it hard to swallow. Maybe you’d just drop off the report and scurry home before anyone noticed something was wrong. 

You pushed open the door to his office, keeping your eyes on the floor as you entered and shut it behind you. 

“Ah, Y/n, just the person I was waiting for! You will not believe what I heard Nesta telling—” You looked up when Rhys paused to see him staring at you with concern. “Y/n, what’s the matter? Why do you look so upset?” 

“N-nothing,” you choked out, striding forward and setting your report on his desk. “I’m just a bit tired today. Think I’m going to head home and take a nap.” 

Rhysand stared down at the folder on his desk with a frown before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Bullshit.” 

“Excuse me?!”

“I’m calling bullshit, Y/n,” Rhys said, looking at you with a stern expression that was normally reserved for when Nyx acted up. “You stay out all night long with Mor all the time and you’ve never skipped out on our talks! What happened? Did someone hurt you? Who do we have to beat up?” 

You shook your head with a small laugh that sounded as hollow as you felt. “Seriously, Rhys, I’m fine. Nothing happened. I really am just tired.” 

He studied you before nodding at the chair in front of his desk with his chin. “Sit.” 

You bristled at him using his High Lord’s voice to get you to obey, reluctantly taking a seat in the armchair. He didn’t seem bothered by the glare you were sending his way. 

“This is hardly necessary,” you argued.

“You’re not leaving this room until you tell me why you walked into my office looking like a little, downtrodden puppy.” 

“Gee, thanks,” you scoffed at his comparison. “Like I said, nothing is wrong!” 

Rhys only quirked an eyebrow at you and you let out a noise of frustration. “Fine! Look, I just overheard some people talking about me and not all of it was…

pleasant, okay? That’s all.” 

“Who?” Rhys barked out. “What were they even saying? You’re the most harmless person I know.”

You rolled your eyes at his remark. 

“No one important and besides, people are allowed to have negative feelings about me,” you sniffed. “Even if it hurts to hear.” 

“If it was no one important then you wouldn’t be upset. And no one is allowed to have negative opinions about any of my friends except for me,” Rhys leaned back in his chair and kicked up his feet on his desk before giving you a very feline smile. 

You snorted. “Yeah, well, what if it was one of your friends I overheard?”

You regretted those words as soon as they came out of your mouth. 

Rhys perked up. “If it was Cassian, don’t pay him any mind. He’s just mad you beat him at poker last week.” 

“It wasn’t Cassian. It was Azriel,” you sighed. 

Rhys was silent for a moment before he burst into laughter. Your mouth dropped open at his audacity. 

“It’s not funny! I’ve spent years trying to be his friend! I don’t know why he hates me so much.” 

“It’s funny because I know Azriel would never talk shit about you. He doesn’t even talk shit about the people he does hate and he most certainly does not hate you,” he chuckled. “I don’t know what you overheard but it must be a misunderstanding.”

“It wasn’t!” 

“Alright, show me.”

You felt dark claws tap on your mental shield and you let him in after some slight hesitation, letting him view your most recent memory. 

“Hm,” Rhys mused when he was done. “I’m not convinced. You should’ve stuck around to hear what he said.” 

Hearing Azriel’s words in your head again caused a new round of tears. You tried to hold them back, sniffling but it was no use. Rhys sat up straight when he realized just how upset you were. 

“Y/n, please don’t cry. I promise you Azriel does not hate you. I know how awful that sounded but I really think—”

“He does! He’s never liked me! I’ve tried so hard to be his friend, Rhys, and he always ignores me or pretends I’m not there. Every time I try to talk to him he gives me one word answers and runs away with any excuse like he can’t even stand to be around me! I don’t know what I did to make him hate me so much or think I’m an awful person.” 

You wiped away the tears on your cheeks, bitterly. 

“Azriel’s just…shy,” Rhys said, weakly. “Give him some time to warm up to you.”

“I’ve known him for over fifty years now, Rhys! Hell, he’s already friends with Elain and Nesta and they’ve barely been living here for two years. I think if he wanted to be my friend, it would’ve happened already. He just doesn’t like me!” 

The door to Rhys’s office opened right after you finished talking and you stiffened as Cassian strode in. 

“Oh, hey, Y/n, I didn’t know you were in here,” Cassian greeted as he shut the door behind him. He stopped in his tracks once he noticed your tears and Rhys’s grimace. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” 

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands with embarrassment. 

“Y/n is under the impression that Azriel hates her.” 

“No, I know he hates me,” you said, voice muffled. 

Cassian’s booming laughter filled the office, making you sink further down in the chair. What the hell was so funny about this? 

“You think Azriel hates you?” Cassian asked in between his laugh. “Y/n, that is ridiculous! He could never hate you. You’re his mate—”

“Cassian!” Rhys rose, slamming his hands down on his desk. 

Your head sprung up. 

“What…what did you just say?” 

Rhys let out a sigh, pinging the bridge of his nose. “Gods damn it, Cassian. Y/n…you weren’t supposed to find out this way. I’m so sorry—”

“Azriel is my mate and he knows? He told you guys but not me? Why…”

Why? Of course you knew why! He never told you because he didn’t want you as his mate. All the air in the room was sucked out, your face turned hot, your ears started ringing. Your mate didn’t want you. Your Mother-blessed mate didn’t want you. You shot up out of your seat, rushing to the door. 

“Y/n, wait!” 

But you didn’t stop.

────────────

“It’s better this way,” Azriel sighed. “She deserves better than me. She deserves someone as good as her as a mate. She could never want someone like me—I’m not good enough for her.” 

“You should at least try and talk to her, Azriel,” Elain replied. 

“You don’t understand, Elain. I can’t.” 

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t talk to you because the mating bond might snap in place and then you’d be chained to him forever and that was just not fair to you. You deserved so much more. 

“It’s not fair that you're making judgements without even knowing her. She’s pretty, she’s kind—Y/n is a great girl!”

“I do know her and she’s not. She's not pretty or kind. She’s not a great girl, she’s a saint. She’s not just pretty, she is the most beautiful girl in the world and she’s so much more than just kind. She’s good unlike me. I’ve…I’ve done so many bad things. I’m tainted and if I allow myself to be with her, I’ll ruin her.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself, Azriel,” Elain sighed. “Besides, shouldn’t Y/n be the one to decide for herself if you’re good enough for her? Me and Lucien didn’t get off to a great start but at least he was honest with me.” 

Azriel’s wings drooped to the floor. “You’re…right. It’s not fair to her that I’ve been keeping this a secret all these years. But I don’t want her to feel forced to be with me.”

“She is smart, Azriel, and can handle herself. If she doesn’t want you, I’m sure she’ll be honest about that. But you won’t know until you try. And as much as I love listening to you talk about her—I think I can speak for all of us when I say that you should stop saying this stuff to us and start saying it to her! She probably thinks you hate her with how much you avoid her!” 

Azriel’s chest ached at that thought. The last thing he wanted to do was upset you which is why he stayed away. 

“But—”

“No more buts, Azriel,” Elain said, sternly. “Tell her before she finds out some other way like Feyre did. You know how much that upset her. Rhys is lucky my sister is so forgiving.” 

Azriel swallowed thickly, but rose to his feet. It was about time he faced this, about time he stopped trying to hold his mate at arms length. Even if he felt like he didn’t deserve you, you deserved to know the truth. 

“Okay. You’re right. You’ve all been right and I’ve been a coward. She deserves the truth.”

Elain smiled, nodding her head. “Good luck, Azriel. Just remember if she seems reluctant at first, don’t take it to heart. It took all of us some time before we warmed up to our mates.” 

He gave her a dip of his head before leaving the library to start his search for his mate. What he didn’t expect was you to come barreling down the hallway with tears pouring from your eyes. His stomach turned over at the sight and he quickly stopped you in her path, grabbing you by the shoulders. 

“Y/n, what’s wrong—”

Your eyes widened as you stared up at him.

“D-don’t,” you cried out, shrugging out of his grip. “Please, don’t touch me.”

And then you were off again, disappearing around the corner. He stood frozen in place, debating if he should run after you. But you clearly didn’t want to talk to him. And it was all his fault—the distance he had put between the two of you. 

He made his way to Rhys’s office, pushing aside the urge to run after his mate and find out why you were so upset and who he needed to hurt for causing your tears. 

When he entered, he immediately knew something was wrong. Cassian was staring at him with pure guilt in his eyes while Rhys stood behind his desk, frowning. 

“Azriel, I’m so sorry,” Cassian choked out. 

“Sorry about what?” 

Cassian rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he wanted to ground to swallow him whole. “I might’ve told Y/n that you're her mate.” 

“You what,” Azriel growled. 

Cassian glanced at Rhys who decided to jump in before a war broke out in his office. “Honestly, Azriel, it’s your fault for keeping it from her. She was in here crying because she thinks you hate her. I was trying to convince her you don’t when Cassian walked in and let it slip.” 

“You’re one to talk,” Azriel spat out. “You hid your mating bond from Feyre too.”

“Not for over fifty years! I would’ve told her if she hadn’t found out. I withheld that information for a few months and look how that turned out. How do you think Y/n will feel knowing you hid it from her for over fifty years!” 

Azriel’s wings slumped, his shadows whirling around him in distress. Just the idea of you being hurt by him was enough to make him want to bash his head into the wall. “She deserves better.”

“You’re right. She deserves you,” Cassian said, gently, nudging him with his shoulder. “Maybe this was the push you needed, Az, to finally talk to her.” 

Azriel sighed, bowing his head in shame. “I know, I know. And I will—I will go talk to her.” 

“I recommend starting with an apology,” Rhys joked but Azriel was hardly paying attention, already sending out his shadows to find his upset mate.

────────────

You were sitting on a hill that overlooked Velaris, running your fingers through the grass. This day had gone from bad to absolutely dreadful in the matter of a few minutes and now you were left reeling with the information that Azriel was your mate. A mate that had kept the bond secret from you. A mate that obviously didn’t want you.

He had said so to Elain. He didn’t think you were pretty or kind or great. It all made sense now, how much he had avoided you in the past. He didn’t want you to figure it out, didn’t want the bond to snap for you. You let out a sigh, drawing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on them.

A light breeze of wind ruffled your hair forward as someone appeared behind you. You didn’t bother turning around, already recognizing that familiar smell of cedar and night-chilled mist. Cassian must’ve let him know that the cat was out of the bag and now Azriel was likely here to beg you to reject him.

“You know, I’ve lived in Velaris nearly my whole life but I’ve never been up here before today.” Azriel’s deep voice broke the silence. “That’s a beautiful view of the city.”

“I know,” you answered, quietly, your voice hoarse from crying. “It’s why I come up here.”

“Do you come here often?” His voice was closer this time and his shadows began to whisk through your hair and under your arms, much like they always did when in your presence.

“Only when I’m upset,” you sighed, blinking away more tears.

There was a moment of silence before Azriel spoke again. “I’m really sorry, Y/n. I did not intend for you to find out about the bond that way.”

“It’s alright,” you said, weakly. “It must’ve been hard finding out your mate is someone you don’t want. I know you’re here to ask me to reject it. I will do as you ask so you can continue on with your life.”

“No,” Azriel spit out quickly, stumbling closer to you. “No, I’m not here to ask you to reject it. I’m here to explain myself…I hate that this has made you so upset.”

He sat down next to you, mimicking your position. You kept your gaze forward, scared to see what you might find if you looked at him. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Azriel. I get it. I, um, I overheard you talking about me to Elain.”

“Rhys showed me what you overheard,” Azriel said, his wings flexing before the one closest to you curled around your form to block the wind. “I wish you had stayed just a second longer, Y/n, because I truly was not saying anything bad about you. I would never—”

“If that’s true then what were you doing? What did you mean when you said I wasn’t pretty or kind or great? What could that possibly mean other than what it seems to?”

“I said that because it’s true. You’re not pretty or kind or great, Y/n. You are beautiful, the most beautiful girl to ever step foot in this world. And you’re not just kind, you’re so much more than that. You are good. You have the heart of a true angel. You are so much more than those three words can describe. I never kept the bond from you because I didn’t want you. I kept it a secret because you deserve someone better,” Azriel confessed.

“And you don’t think you can be that someone for me, Azriel? You’re my Mother-given mate! You want to know something? I’ve always dreamt about finding my mate one day. Hoped that I would get to experience a love like that in my lifetime. And to find out—”

Your voice cracked, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“Please, don’t cry,” Azriel pleaded, taking your chin in his grasp, and turning your head to face him. He cupped your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears. “I longed for the day I would find my mate. But when I finally found you after all these years, I…I didn’t know how to wrap my head around the fact that the Mother blessed me with you. You are so much more than I ever dreamed of. You are all that is good in this world. You bring happiness to every room you walk in. You’re smart. You’re beautiful. The last thing I wanted was to drag you down by shackling you to me.”

“What if it is you that I want? What if I want you to be that person? Did you ever consider that might be a possibility? Because let me tell you something, Azriel. You say I’m more than you ever dreamed of, but you are exactly who I’ve been dreaming of all these years. Someone calm, someone patient, someone good of heart. Someone I can feel safe around. Someone I can call home. What would you say to that?”

“Then I might say you’re an idiot for wanting me,” Azriel chuckled, still stroking your cheeks with his thumbs, staring down at you with those beautiful hazel eyes. “But then I’d probably get down on my knees and beg you for a second chance. To let me prove to you that you have my heart and soul. You have since the day I laid eyes on you.”

You stared up at him, eyes wide with your vulnerability. “And if I agreed to give you a second chance, what would you say?”

“I would say be ready by seven tonight so I can take you out and show you what a girl like you deserves,” Azriel breathed out. “What would you say to that?”

You laughed, the ache in your chest finally soothed. “I would say yes.”

Azriel smiled, a rare and breathtaking sight, before he stood and reached out a hand to help you off the ground. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”

You smiled back at him before finally taking his hand.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel angst #azriel fluff #reader requests

[ianyoa]

SOMETHING SUPER SWEET

jjk men x baker f!reader wc: 757 featuring: satoru gojo, suguru geto, nanami kento, choso kamo, yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, yuta okkotsu.

summary ; jjk men headcannons with a baker girlfriend !

Satoru Gojo LOVES the fact that you can bake. Coming back to a sweet treat is like a dream come true. If you’re having insecurities about trying something new out, he’s the first to reassure you that it’s already perfect on the first go. He loves watching you bake when there’s downtime. Whenever you’re distracted he likes to dip his finger into the batter and have an early taste… which leads into a spoonful, then another, and another. Next thing you know, you’re giving Satoru a slice of cake while he’s in bed with a stomach ache because he insists he’s TOTALLY fine and doesn’t want it to go to waste. 

Suguru Geto claims to be indifferent. He comes over and sees a brownie, he’ll only eat it because “you made them.” Truth is, he loves them so, so much. After a full day of having to take in awful curses, there’s nothing better than having something delicate that his sweet girlfriend made. Maybe one day he’ll vocally express his love for them, but you already tell how much he enjoys them by the look in his eyes when he comes back to the smell. 

Nanami Kento, being the man he is, helps you. He loves coming back to see you midway through baking. Doesn’t matter if he’s tired, he’ll wash his hands and jump right in with you. He loves it when you make bread together. It’s perfect for him to pack it up for his lunch the next day. He doesn’t lean towards sweets, maybe having a bite or two and leaving the rest for you. But the second you make croissants, muffins, biscuits, you name it.. he’s thinking about the perfect time to propose. 

Choso Kamo is amazed. Seriously, like.. how is this possible? He gets a little nervous whenever you tell him to join you, he just doesn’t want to screw up since you always do it perfectly. Choso ends up enjoying it a lot! He gets happy whenever it starts forming together. One thing he loves doing, decorating the cookies after. You give him a couple of piping bags with different icings and a tray of sprinkles and he’s sitting there for who knows how long trying to make it look perfect for you. He loves watching you bake, not just staring at the dough as you make it from nothing to something, but the look on your face once it’s complete and you’re satisfied.

Yuji Itadori takes pride in having a girlfriend who can bake. Every time you make something, you’ll always have to make extras so he can take it for his friends. Gives them to others with the biggest smile on his face saying that you were the one who made them. He’s quite literally your number-one fan. Encourages you to open some sort of shop, even if you claim it’s just a hobby, so he can pass on the delight of these sweets to others. Everyone has to know what a real dessert tastes like! But you always have to make sure that there’s plenty left for him.

Megumi Fushiguro doesn’t mind it. He doesn’t go out of his way to ask for anything but if you offer, sure he’ll take some. As long as it’s not anything insanely sweet, he quite enjoys it. Loves it when you make something with dark chocolate though. He drinks black coffee of course he wouldn’t mind some dark chocolate cookies or something simple like a fruit coated in dark chocolate. Whenever you do manage to get him to eat something a little more on the sweeter side, he never complains. It’s something that you made. He claims to never say anything against it because that would be rude but really, it’s the only sweet thing he’ll ever fully enjoy without complaining. 

Yuta Okkotsu enjoys making sweets for you! It started when one day you gave him a cupcake as a treat for the stress that he’s endured, then the next day he gives you a 2 tiered cake. This man will always give you something in return. Sure he might’ve never considered the idea of baking but once you two started dating and he saw how much you enjoyed it, he started practicing so one day you two can do it together. It slowly became normal for you two to make each other something every once in a while. Sure his baking might be really good, but he claims that he’ll never reach your level. There’s something about your sweets that makes his day instantly better.

⁺ ﹒ ˚ ₊ ‧꒰ა ﹒ ✦﹒ ໒꒱ ‧ ₊ ˚ ﹒ ⁺

notes ; i wrote this because i was watching a baking show LMAOO

#jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #suguru geto fluff #suguru x reader #geto fluff #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami fluff #nanami x reader #choso kamo #choso kamo fluff #choso kamo x reader #choso fluff #choso x reader #yuji itadori #yuji itadori fluff #yuji itadori x reader #megumi fushiguro fluff #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #yuta okkotsu #yuta fluff

[thelibrarian1895]

If your sibling is a rogue then make the best of it

I would like to think that Jason is very Hondo Onakha about kidnapping, very dramatic, fairly polite/chill to the one he kidnapped, minimal trauma, very professional overall but also very theatrical. Out of anyone in Gotham to have as your kidnapper, Jason aka the Red Hood is by far the very best person.

ALL of Jason's family whether they be legal, biological, emotional, or honorary, will absolutely try to convince Jason to kidnap them to get them out of some stupid civilian event. Whether or not Jason will go along with it will depend on several factors such as:

Does this benefit Bruce and get him out of a boring civilian event too? Then so sorry, you're just going to have to suffer!

How busy is Jason at the moment? Because being a drug lord and vigilante is actually pretty time consuming and kidnapping can be a lot of work for potentially very little gain.

What does Jason get out of it? Yes money is all well and good but Jason is rich by his own merits and can just steal from Bruce whenever, there's got to be more to it!

When is the last time Jason has kidnapped this sibling? He can't do it too often or it gets less effective. He has a reputation to maintain after all!

It may also depend on which sib is asking and what they need to be "saved" from.

Dick asks to be kidnapped from a bachelor auction charity? Ha! No chance, sorry Dickie! He will be there though and take pictures and laugh. (And also join all the other siblings who are stalking Dick and the winner of the auction in the event the winner wasn't one of the Bats or an invited member of the JL or Titans using Bruce's money) Dick asking to be kidnapped from a gala or some opening night of trendy place he's at to maintain civilian status? Maybe but the bribe has to be considerable. And it cannot benefit Bruce. Dick's normal bribes consist of taking some tedious part of an investigation over for Jason or getting intel from JL databases for Jason and the Outlaws.

Cass? Anytime and always, favorite sister who can beat him up has special kidnapping privileges, though they did stop for a very long time when some weirdos put out the theory that the Red Hood was in love with Gotham's Princess. (idk if Cass is considered Gotham's Princess in any version of canon but she is to me) Cass does still repay Jason in the form of Black Bat keeping an eye on Jason's territory when he's out of Gotham for any significant length of time.

Tim? He does owe the kid for several incidents and Tim normally doesn't abusive the privilege so he'd probably do it but there does have to be some sort of bribe for appearances sake. Tim usually gets Jason to agree in exchange for pictures of Batman tripping over his cape or in some other ridiculous position. Bonus in Jason's mind if Tim requests a kidnapping when Bruce is off world or otherwise occupied, therefore giving Brucie Wayne's reputation a hit. However if Tim wants to be kidnapped from something where Bruce is also suffering as Brucie, Tim is SOL (Tim might get revenge by getting Kon to wear Red Hood gear and "kidnap" Tim from the event if Jason refused. Kon will do it because Tim asked and also I would like to think that Kon isn't too fond of the guy who beat his best friend/boyfriend nearly to death and will mess with him if given the chance) Since kidnapping normally interferes with things that Tim wants to do however, he may instead bribe Jason to not kidnap a sibling that has asked to be kidnapped. Jason usually obliges this no kidnapping request.

Barbara? Sorry, no, he doesn't want to stress the Commissioner like that. He will, however, kidnap other people for her if she asks.

Stephanie? No Stephanie, he doesn't care what you offer, he's not kidnapping you so you can avoid your finals! Stephanie has, however, worn various wigs and been various hostages who died at the hands of the Hood in order to maintain his reputation. She gets paid in baked goods for her service.

Damian? Damian considered the idea ridiculous and proclaimed he'd never stoop so low and he would carry out his duties no matter how onerous! Damian then had to go to a Gotham gala. Damian is trying very hard to figure out a suitable bribe to get the Red Hood to kidnap him often enough that Bruce will be forced to keep Damian away from galas because of the ongoing security threat. So far it hasn't worked because Damian is very bad at bribing Jason, Jason thinks Damian forced to interact with normal people is funny, and Tim is successfully bribing Jason to ignore Damian's bribery attempts. The Red Hood has "kidnapped" Damian once, as a treat, when he thought the kid was looking particularly down about something.

Duke? Duke has yet to be made to attend any society gatherings as the solo Wayne (normally that falls to Bruce, Dick, or Tim) and can usually be spotted hanging out with Cass by the snack table at any gala or trendy event. He's not at Cass's level of reading body language but he's pretty darn good and he and Cass have reached a new level of being able to avoid annoying rich people while at parties. Duke is Cass's favorite gala buddy. Duke hasn't felt the need to ask Jason to kidnap him yet but Jason will allow the first one to be free of charge, no questions asked. After that Duke hasn't figured out suitable bribes for Jason but has realized that all of his siblings are hyper competitive and that Jason would absolutely wager a kidnapping in a competition or for a bet.

Alfred? If Alfred asked then Jason would without any caveat. Alfred will not ask however but might ask on behalf of someone else and Jason will comply.

Bruce? Jason just laughs. And if someone else is planning on kidnapping Brucie Wayne from a particularly boring business meeting or gala? Jason will actively thwart the kidnapping to force Bruce to continue to deal with social activity.

Jason usually splits a portion of the ransom money into bonuses for his goons since their original job outline is drug dealer/enforcer/mobster and not kidnapper. If they're going to get major felonies on their records, better make it financially worth it. All of Jason's goons are masked during any kidnapping event. The rest of the ransom money goes towards a charity of Jason's choosing.

Jason has also kidnapped people who are not his family or family adjacent. Barbara thought her dad could use a vacation at one point but he didn't have the PTO for it so Barbara had the Red Hood kidnap him. James Gordon experienced the weirdest kidnapping of his life that included some of the best food he'd ever eaten, an extremely soft bed, his pile of books that were on his reading list, and access to the sports games he'd meant to watch. The ransom was successfully paid after he had a week to relax. Gordon was then, as per protocol, allowed time to relax after his "harrowing" event. Barbara forced him to take the time. Strangely enough, some politicians who had been giving the Commissioner a hard time were suddenly very quiet when James Gordon came back, well rested, well fed, and ready to get back to the grind. It, of course, had nothing to do with the very polite emails with pictures attached that they all received while the Commissioner was very publicly out of the way.

Oliver Queen, when he was visiting Gotham, was kidnapped by the Red Hood. He was released after the ransom was paid and specifically he was released back in Star City. Mr. Queen was unavailable for comment after the incident but some sources say that he was cursing bats for some reason.

Lois Lane found herself kidnapped by Red Hood and ransomed by the Daily Planet while Superman was off world. Lois Lane returned safely to Metropolis and published a shocking expose on Luthor's latest scheme. Her sources for the article remain a secret.

Bruce is very grumpy about the whole thing, not just because Jason won't help his poor father get out of the stupid social event, but also because Jason being technically a rogue like this makes it very hard for him to successfully argue that Jason should let himself regain legal living status.

#bruce wayne #batman #tim drake #batfamily #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #gotham #stephanie brown #batfam #duke thomas #damian wayne al ghul #cassandra wayne #red hood #brucie wayne #barbara gordon #alfred pennyworth #selina kyle #timkon #kon el kent #conner kent #tim is my favorite #but he wouldn't be the only one that jason kidnaps #james gordon #lois lane #oliver queen

[surielstea]

Territorial

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel was busy with work and Reader decided to go out alone, much to the males dismay

Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | pwp | 18+ | p in v | oral sex (m receiving) | shadow play | bondage | angry/passionate sex | cum inside | creeps at a bar | reader’s kinda ditsy but we love her

4.4k words

"Az?" I call, peeking my head out the doorway. "Azriel?" I sing, padding down the hall when I don't hear him reply. I follow the golden tether connecting us to his office, only half-clothed with my unzipped dress dipping off my shoulders.

"Hey," I spot the male at his desk, eyes scanning over a form. He doesn't spare me a glance but replies with a quiet, "Hi."

"I called for you and you didn't answer," I take a few steps closer, leaning against his desk and holding the neckline of my dress up. "Yeah?" He mumbles as he continues writing, clearly not listening to what I am saying and filling the silence. "Can you help me?" I ask and he freezes, then finally turns to look at me, ears perking at the question. "The corset," I point to the back of my dress. "Ah," He nods but doesn't move from his seat.

Instead of his hands, it's shadows that move to my back, tightening around the strings and then pulling them tight. I frown slightly but don't move as I allow the darkness to tie the strings. When they're done they return to Azriel's side, swishing around like they were trying to get his attention too, but Azriel seemed busy.

We've been staying in the Hewn City for the past few days, Azriel had interrogations to see to, then paperwork, then more interrogations. So it was easier to stay in the Moonstone Palace for the time being.

My mate was busy quite often but he always made time for me, always. So what's so different now? It might've been shallow that I continued to hover at his side, waiting for him to give me some attention.

I watch what he's so intently writing, frowning at the way he didn't even spare me a second glance. "Take a break Az, we could go to the evening markets?" I suggest and it's like the words don't even reach his ears. "Or I could open a bottle of wine and we could cuddle in bed," I add in a light tune, running my hand down his arm.

It takes a few seconds for him to reply, for the words to even register. "Maybe another time," He brushed me off and my frown deepened. "I understand, sorry for bothering you," I grumbled, then left his office and closed the door with a particularly hard force.

I told him I understood, except I didn't. He worked for Rhysand, and of course, the High Lord is still his boss but if Azriel turned in an assignment a few hours late I doubted he'd get reprimanded in the slightest. If he was anyone else it'd be fine, but this is Azriel, the male who always makes time for me and never makes me feel like a burden.

But now I was standing in the hallway alone, and a little defeated.

I curse myself for being so sensitive and walk down the hall and into the kitchen. I open the door down to the wine cellar but before I can take the descent to the basement I realize I didn't want to drink alone. I sigh, closing the door.

It wasn't that I needed Azriel to be able to enjoy myself but he's got in my head, and now he's all I want.

I decided to pass the time by going to the evening markets on my own, he couldn't be mad at me for doing it by myself when I'd already offered to include him, right?

I scribbled down on a note that I was leaving and signed it with a heart before leaving through the front door without so much as a proper goodbye.

The evening markets were much different in the Hewn City than the ones in Velaris. Every vendor seemed to be trying to con or scam me.

I came across a cart, a skinny pale woman with thinning black hair stood behind the counter with dead eyes. I notice a young pair of twins huddling beside her long, ripped skirt.

She was selling gemstones. They were all fake, you could tell by the way they gleamed under the moonlight but that didn't make them any less beautiful. A specific blue stone caught my attention. I smile softly at the woman and give her my entire pouch of gold marks, enough for a month's worth of food if spent right. She begins shuffling through the coins and only takes what's owed out as I pluck the sapphire up.

"No, keep all of it," I brush her off with a wave of my hand. Her eyes widen as she stares at me in shock. I give her a kind smile. "Get them something nice," I gesture to the two girls the height of her waist. "Thank you," She bleats out and I nod with a gentle smile, pocketing the gem before waltzing away with a small pep in my step.

I come across another stand, this one with aisles of flowers leading towards the shopkeeper. I smile as I gaze at a bush of jasmine, the scent reminding me of Amren. I continue walking down the aisle, spotting moonflowers as big as my palm, and bouquets of chocolate daisies that somehow smelt like the enriching cocoa flavor I was so familiar with.

The clerk seemed busy so I didn't buy anything, just continued to walk until there was a snag at my skirt. My brows twitch and I look down to see one of the twin girls from earlier fisting the cloth in her hand. She doesn't say anything, just holds out a white rose. "For me?" I smile gently and she nods shyly.

I bend down and take the flower, breaking off all the thorns before reaching towards her and tucking the rose behind her ear. "There, beautiful," I compliment and she flushes pink. "Thank you," She whispers and my smile widens. "Thank you, too," I say, standing. She stared up at me in wonder. "Why don't you go snatch one for your sister as well?" I suggest and she nods before scurrying off back toward the flower market.

I turn on my heel, walking with my skirts in my hands as I continue my route down the dimly lit path, shops slowly dwindling away and mage lights flickering the further down the alley I go.

I grip the material of my skirt in my hands at the shift in the atmosphere, my steps speeding up, eager to get out of the eerie ambiance.

Hyena-like laughter echoes down the stretch of the brick road and my entire body tenses. I looked to where the sound had come from, three men sat on upside-down trashcans all talking amongst each other with shit-eating grins. It was rude to assume they were of any danger to me, but I was better off paranoid than ignorant.

I reach through my mental bond towards Azriel only to be met with unbreakable, obsidian walls. I frown, flattening my palms to the cold rock but it was entirely solid and I was locked out. I huff and thrust my own shields up, blocking him out too. Instead of passing by the three men, I step into the building at my left, a bar.

I enter the tavern with a slight panic in my step. I hadn't realized how safe Azriel made me feel until I no longer had his company.

The place was packed, every night in the Hewn City was a night for a drink, there were crowds but it was eerily quiet and I had eyes from every direction staring at me. I ignored the eyes and tried not to catch anyone's gaze as I walked towards the bar top, settling into an empty stool with torn leather that creaked when I put my weight on it.

A bartender immediately comes over to me and I order something light, only planning to pass the time here until I think Azriel learned his lesson and noticed that I didn't need him to have a good time. It was petty and something he probably already knew but I had to solidify that fact.

"What's a girl like you doing all the way out here?" A gravelly voice asked and I turned to the male beside me, his long, graying beard thick with what looked like food sprinkled throughout it. I fight back a grimace.

"A girl like me?" I arch a brow, not interested in telling him where I'm from. "Sure, the fancy clothes, shiny hair," He utters. "I bet that bracelet on your wrist costs more than my house," He scoffs. I look down at the bejeweled bracelet that I wear at a constant. "Well? How much?" He asks and I shrug. "It was a gift from my mate," I utter, not knowing the exact price— but with the amount of diamonds glinting on the piece of jewelry, the stranger wouldn't be far off with the estimate of his house.

"Mate?" He grunts and I nod. "Why aren't you with him now?" He demands, sticking his nose into my business. I nearly roll my eyes. What does it matter to him anyway? "He's working," I swing my legs back and forth. "And what's this male do for a livin' to be able to afford gifts like that?" He gestures to my wrist. "He's the Spymaster of the Night Court," I say, the male gulps down whatever fear bubbled up inside him at the title.

The bartender hands me my drink and I thank him with a gentle smile.

The stranger next to me turns away from me, instead going towards whatever poor girl is on the other side of him as I silently sip my sweet drink, swinging my legs back and forth as I gaze up at the ceiling, running my eyes along the cracks and crevices, attempting to think the way Azriel does, how he notices every single thing, analyzes every movement, every breath. I wish I could observe things like him, read him the way he reads me. I huff in defeat after growing bored from one minute of observing, instead sinking into my stool.

A few males throughout the night approach me but I tell them who my mate is and they immediately back off. I liked the idea of Azriel being so feared in places like this, how he had me blocked from his side of the bond and yet was still protecting me from every male who engaged.

There was a slight commotion behind me, mumbles and synchronized footsteps like everyone was rushing out of someone's way. I ignore it, keeping my eyes pinned to my half-full glass, debating on finishing it or just going home and cuddling up with a book, perhaps Azriel is done with work.

There's a sudden presence behind me, one that's vaguely familiar but nothing too keen. A hand comes down onto my shoulder and my spine straightens at the familarity. "For the last time, I have a mate—" I begin but then I feel shadows twining up my ankles, the scars on his hand, the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar.

"I know," He started and I whipped around, wrapping my arms tightly around the back of his neck. "Az," I greet, and even if I was just annoyed with him, it felt refreshing to have his eyes on me again. "I just had the most wonderful evening," I say as he intertwines his hand with mine and pulls me from my stool. I follow, forgetting about my drink while Azriel pays the bartender with a bill too large for what I ordered.

"I wish you had come with," I say as he pulls me through the crowd, well it wasn't much of a crowd anymore, his wings gave him a large enough frame that groups had simply split in half to accommodate for him, me in tow as he guides me through the path.

"And I went to the markets and bought this pretty gem," I pull out the blue sapphire. "Remind me of your siphons, don't you think?" I hold it up in the moonlight. He looked at it and gave a dip of his head, his mind still reeling as he pulled me away from the alleyway while I continued blathering on. "And there were these twin girls who were so adorable, and later one of them gave me a flower—" I was cut off as I was completely consumed by a familiar darkness, Azriel's hand tightening on mine as he pulled us through the shadow realm, the real world seeming so bright in comparison.

"Az," I pause, looking around at our house as we land, standing in the center of our bedroom. Not in the Hewn City, but Velaris. He had taken us all the way home. "What are we doing here? Did you finish your assignments?" I say, striding up to him and realizing only now that he had yet to say anything this entire time since the bar, I've just been prattling on about my evening while he only nodded, which was typical but, it felt different, there was something cold about him.

"Azriel? You okay?" I reach up towards his face but he catches my wrist before I can make contact. "Do you know how worried I was about you?" His tone is warm but there's a certain deathly flicker in his eyes that sent a chilling shiver down my spine. "There was nothing to be worried about," I mutter, pulling at my wrist but his hold doesn't yield. "You believe that?" He arches a brow but I was too undermined to nod.

"Love," He sighs, his hold loosens and I'm met with relief. "Do you know how many people in that court want me dead?" He tilts his head and I swallow thickly, I hated thinking about stuff like that and he knew it. "How many people want to hurt me the way I've hurt them?" He adds and all I can do is shake my head no.

"I need you to understand the only way to hurt me is by hurting you, make sense?" His hand comes to my cheek, angling my head to look up at him. I meet his stare and nod bashfully.

"I do understand, but, I’m fine," I argue. "I can handle myself, I promise I was safe," I stress and his gaze hardens yet again, now I've done it.

"I know you can handle yourself, but, just let me protect you," He sighs. "Why? I don't need your protection— in fact, you had me blocked out all night, so if I did need you, you wouldn't have even been able to save me," I express and he bristles. I shouldn't have said it, I know it'd hit him where it hurt but, gods, I was so sick of feeling so dependent, like I relied on him every waking hour since we mated.

Azriel never shouted, barely ever raised his voice. But when he did, he was a different male. Animalistic and feral, and entirely uncaged. Some sick part of me found it insanely attractive. His power was so immense I couldn't help but let it turn me on, shadows flooding the room as a vein bulged at his neck as he explained why I need to be more careful when on my own, but I was barely listening to his words, just his voice, his passion. The spine-shivering tone reaches the wrong parts of my body and leaves me clenching my legs, staring up at him helplessly as the smell of my arousal becomes apparent and he shutters, his words halting as he stares at me.

"Are you fucking serious?" He scoffs and I look down at the floor with a bright flush, attempting to hide what's already known. He takes a menacing step closer, hand coming to my chin and tilting my face up dauntingly slow, I avoid his gaze. "Look at me," He snaps and I do as he says immediately, eyes staring up into his, that familiar hazel analyzing every part of me like it always did. "You like it when I yell at you?" He asked and I swallowed thickly. "Answer me, love," He says, hand tightening on my jaw and I nod with creased brows. "Yes," I confess and I could already tell my panties were a mess.

"You gonna be a good girl and take your punishment?" He tilts his head and my pussy throbs in anticipation at the promise of discipline. Again, I nod. "Yeah? On your knees then," He commands and I waste no time before dropping onto the floor before him, staring up at him with shiny, wide eyes. "Open," He says and I part my lips, tongue lulling out. Two of his fingers immediately plunge down my throat while his other hand works at the ties of his pants. I move my own hands up, attempting to offer assistance but shadows are quick to twine around my wrists and pin them useless behind my back.

I close my lips around his hand, sucking on the two long, thick, and calloused fingers. I dip my tongue between them, coating them in my saliva as he curls them into the back of my throat, forcing me to gag on them, loving the sight of my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

He gets his pants down and his cock slaps up against his abdomen, hard and leaking pre-cum, his tip red and angry. I whimpered at the sight of it as he removed his fingers from my mouth, using my saliva to further lube himself for easier entrance. He strokes himself once, then another. "Please," I rasp out, needy for his cock. He knew just how badly I needed him inside of me.

He continues pumping his cock just in front of my lips, groaning out at the intense feeling of his hand. "Open," He repeats and again, I obey. The head of his cock slaps onto the flat of my tongue and I nearly moan at the salty taste of him, tears brimming the edge of my eyes as I run my tongue up and down the underside of his member, tracing the bulging vein.

I pulled at the restraints on my hands, whining in need of more as I suck on the head of him, swirling my tongue around his tip and pressing my tongue to the sensitive slit as he grunted in pleasure.

His hand finds the back of my head, gripping my hair roughly as moans slip from me. "Three taps, remember?" He asks and I nod urgently, remembering the safe code in case he went too far, but I knew I wouldn't be using that any time tonight.

He then thrust all of his length down my throat and I gagged on him, adjusting to his size of him was impossible as he continued to abuse my mouth, tears now free-falling onto my cheeks as his other hand found my neck, squeezing occasionally when I choked on him.

I struggled to breathe as he continued to pummel into my parted lips, his head tilted back in pure ecstasy as I sucked on him hard, bobbing my head. "Gods, you suck me off so good," He praised and I rub my thighs together for any form of friction but nothing could compare to his cock. I seal my lips around his base, jerking my head as I swirl my tongue underneath his cock, drinking every drop of his pre-cum, savoring the taste and eager for more but as he twitches he pulls away from my mouth, keeping himself from crossing that fine line of release. I cry out a whine, wanting the salty taste of him on my tongue now.

"Please, Az," I sob but he ignores the whine. "Get up, on the bed," He nodded his head toward the mattress as I rose from my knees, my wrists unbinding and allowing me to crawl up towards the pillows with shaky limbs. I go to turn around to face him but he stuffs my face into the pillow before I get the chance. My back bows as I struggle to breathe and his hold ceases, allowing me to lift only slightly from the bed. His hands come to the curve of my ass, my dress pushed up by shadows. He doesn't even bother with the ties of my corset and instead tears me free from the material, shredding the gown into pieces and discarding it onto the floor. I whimper as my panties follow without any other foreplay, the cold air breezing against my soaked cunt.

"Count five then I'll let you have what you want, okay?" His hands grope at my ass and I rise onto my elbows, my back arching up into his as he leans over me. I nod with a needy moan, reveling in the feeling of his scars on my skin.

His hand rises then comes down onto my ass, a loud smacking sound filling the room, my mewls quickly following. "One," I gripe, clenching the sheets in my fists as he gives me the second one, harder, the sting lingering and sending shockwaves up my spine. I stuff my face into the pillows as I call the number, so caught up in the pleasure of it all.

His third strike is joined with a cold shadow brushing against the apex of my thighs and I scream at the friction, the neglecting had grown so strong that I could feel myself dripping down my thighs, sopping wet for him. On the fourth smack, the shadows return, this time to stay, swirling around that familiar bundle of nerves and all thoughts leave me, completely consumed by the pleasure of it all. "What number was that?" He purrs beside my ear and I shutter. "Fuck— I, I don't know," I whine. "Oh c'mon, think hard you can do it," He directs, trailing kisses up the side of my ear but it was impossible to think about anything but those damned shadows circling my clit.

"Four," I reply with a hopeful lift to my voice. "Good, such a good girl," He hums, kissing just below my ear before landing one final slap to my ass, the skin red and stinging in pure pain, and I doubt I had ever been more turned on.

"You want me inside baby?" He asked with barely anytime for me to recover, biting at my earlobe as I cry out my reply, "Shit, Az please."

I feel the head of his cock press against my folds a beat later, lathering himself in my fluids as I clench around nothing, legs jolting as I arch up higher for easier entrance, showing just how much I wanted him.

His tip aligns with my entrance and I beg for him, for every inch of him. "Need you, please," My voice shakes and he rises from behind me, his hands coming down onto my thighs, gripping them tightly. Shadows pin my legs to the bed, restricting me from moving as his tip enters me only slightly. "Don't move," He commanded and I nodded, then he thrust all of him inside of me and I felt like I split in half.

I screamed, clawing at the sheets at the intense pain yet pleasure that quickly followed. My brows knot as his base slaps against mine and without much adjustment he begins to pound his length into me, pulling strings of moans from the base of my throat. "Fuck, you feel so perfect wrapped around my cock," He sighed out, head tilting back in pure relief, continuing to pummel into me with an unrelenting force.

"You ever g'na leave without me again?" He asks in a cold voice and I shake my head no. "Use your words," He tells, and my back bows at the tone of his voice, so fucking demanding. "No, never Az," I swallow the lump in my throat. "That's right, 'cause who do you belong to?" He asks, his lips on my neck. "You, all yours," I manage to say, words not coming easy as I was too distracted by the feeling of him thrusting up to what felt like my ribs. I moan his name loudly, head hanging low into the pillows as I arch, pushing further onto his cock, his tight balls slapping against my folds while he twitches against my sensitive walls, shadows coming to contact with my clit and doubling the amount of pleasure.

"Az I can't, I can't take any more," I rasp out as he places sloppy kisses on my shoulder, biting and sucking and licking on any bare skin he could get his mouth on. "You will though, won't you?" He said and I couldn't help but agree with him, knowing it'd feel close to death if he pulled out now.

The tip of his cock brushed over my most sensitive area and I shout in euphoric pain. He smirks against my skin and continues to toy with the area, easily hitting that deep place inside of me, molding me to him, stretching my walls to fit his cock and his alone.

Marking me like territory.

"Az, I'm gonna cum— I can't," I struggle to breathe at how tight my lungs felt, the knot in the pit of my stomach threatening to snap any second now. "Go ahead baby, make a mess all over my cock," He allows and his shadows pinch my clit, forcing me into that orgasmic high.

Warmth blooms in my hips as I find release, tears falling down onto the pillows as my legs shake in pure relief, pleasure racking through me like a wave of ecstasy.

His release followed mine, as I clenched around him from my high it forced him into spilling out his warm seed into my cunt, painting my walls white and making me his entirely. "Fuck," He grunts out. "You did good baby," He whispered softly, pecking my tear-stained cheek while slowly pulling out, his cum flowing out of me and down my thighs as I slump down onto the bed, exhausted.

"No sleeping yet, I won't be able to live with myself if you don't get proper aftercare," He ushered me out of the bed as I sat up with a whine. He smiles softly then picks me up, carrying me princess-style towards the bathroom. I marvel at how easily he switched personalities, shifting between Azriel and the Spymaster so easily.

"Alright pretty girl, let's get you cleaned up."

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#suriels tea #acotar #fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #x reader #request #azriel #acomaf #bat boys #azriel smut #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #acotar smut #x you smut #x reader smut #anon request #fanfiction #x you #fem reader #reader insert #x reader acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #x female reader #requested fic #my fic #i need him #so bad

[hwashotcheeto]

𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (10)

Best Friend's Mother Masterlist

Chapter: Ten

Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Summary: Christmas has finally come. But with it, the end of Winter Break, and feelings that both you and Seonghwa are still too scared to confront.

WC: 6.3k

CW: Fluff, angst, suggestive but it cuts off

AN: I'm so sorry this took so long. I don't have much to say, other than this is more angsty than I planned, but I think it makes for a better story. I hope it's a good part one finale for you all, and you enjoy, as always. 💜

Tag List: @hyunjinsjeans @malldreamprincess @unlikelysublimekryptonite @goayeos @kittkat44 @babyxhoiz @asleepylilcat @mxnsxngie @rxnexxi @mommahwa1117 @acciocriativity @anxiousskylar @h3arteyes4mingi @jus2passtime @asjkdk @soso59love-blog @i-love-ateez @cb97s-laptop @multistanbaby

It was December 24th, and you were awake way earlier than you wanted to be, standing in a jewelry store, looking through the glass of the display case at the many expensive, gorgeous, necklaces. 

But tomorrow was Christmas, and you needed a gift for Seonghwa, so sacrifices had to be made. 

You’d already figured out a gift for Wooyoung ages ago, you had it wrapped and ready in your guest room at the house. 

Now you were here, looking for a gift for his mother. 

You often had moments where you still couldn’t believe the life you were currently living. 

“Do you need help?” You snapped your head up to find the person who spoke to you, and your eyes found a sweet older woman, smiling at you from behind her glasses. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, dear.” 

“No, it’s alright,” you said back, offering back a half smile as you tried to collect yourself. “I’m just looking for a last minute gift. 

“Oh, well, what exactly are you looking for?” The older woman came closer, looking over the necklaces in the case as you were. 

At that moment, you realized that you really didn’t know what to look for. 

You had a good sense of Seonghwa’s style by now, but in terms of jewelry, you were a little stumped. In the month you’d been there, the three of you hadn’t really gone out, so none of you really “dressed up.” 

But of the things you did see, you weren’t sure what he preferred. He usually wore chains, something elegant to go with his already sophisticated outfits. 

But at the same time, you didn’t want a generic, expensive diamond necklace on a silver chain. Most necklaces looked like that, just a pretty pendant on a cheap, boring chain. 

Of course, they had their own charm, and you had a few necklaces like that yourself. But you wanted to find him something special, something as unique as he was. 

You were wishing you’d asked Wooyoung what Seonghwa would wear, but even you knew about Wooyoung’s inability to shut the fuck up. So if you did ask, you ran the risk of spoiling the surprise. 

“I don’t really know,” you mumbled, putting your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. 

“Well, maybe I can help you,” the older woman offered, giving you another sweet smile. You had to admit, in the back of your mind, you were doubtful. But you’d accept any help you could at that moment. 

You nodded, and the older woman nodded back. “So, who is it for?” 

You hesitated, even if this was the expected first question. Considering the previous day’s events, you were even more hesitant to even breathe a word of your infatuation with Seonghwa to anyone. 

So you spit out some half formed excuse that you hoped sounded believable. “For someone I’ve been seeing.” 

The older woman’s eyes lit up like stars as a big smile spread across her face. You couldn’t help but smile with her. 

“Isn’t that precious?” She looked at the display cases again before she looked back at you. “What are they like? What do they like to wear?” 

Like magic, there he was in your mind. Seonghwa, in his gorgeous dresses and outfits. Walking like a queen with the way he held himself. His gorgeous smile that lit up the world, and his bright doe eyes. 

He was everything. He was wonderful. 

“He’s very mature,” you began, not picking up on the fact that “he” was the pronoun that came out. “He dresses expensively. He’s a type that likes the finer things in life.” 

“You’re looking for something a little more expensive?” The woman teased with a little grin, but you nodded in agreement. You did have a budget, as your student loan money that you were using couldn’t all go to a Christmas present. 

But for Seonghwa, you’d do it. 

“Come with me.” The older woman began walking around to a different display case, and the necklaces here were far more ornate and expensive than the ones you were looking at. Your heart stopped when you saw the price tag on one of them.

One of these necklaces could easily pay for at least half a year of your tuition. That was intimidating, to say the very least. 

The older woman must’ve saw the color drain from your face, because she quickly leaned on the counter and spoke to you softly: “This is where I tell people to look for the piece they want, and then we usually find something more affordable that’s close to what they want.” 

Your entire body sagged with relief. 

So there you went, looking over the necklaces they had. These ones weren’t just jewels on a chain, they were much more detailed than that, more intricate. There was more color in them, more styles overall. 

As you were weighing your options, you were imagining Seonghwa in your mind, picturing how he’d look with each of them, what he’d wear with them, how it would look against his honey skin. 

A few times, you got a little too wrapped up in your fantasies and had to pull yourself back. 

You repeated the process until your eyes landed on the one. The one you could perfectly see Seonghwa wearing. 

It was a choker with a large red stone in the center, with many others around it. There were a few diamonds around it as well, but they were quite small. 

It could’ve been a crown. 

“This one?” The older woman asked, knocking you out of your thoughts and back to reality. You shook yourself and nodded, smiling. “It’s quite expensive, are you sure?” 

You looked at the price tag, and the necklace would definitely drain your bank account. 

But you wanted it. You wanted him to have it. 

“Yes,” you said, nodding. “I want that one.” 

The older woman hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded as well, and went to wrap up the choker. You watched as she took it and put it into a silk lined velvet box, laying it out carefully, as if she could feel the price of every gemstone. 

You followed her around the counter to where she was going to ring it up, trying your best to not be impatient. But the older woman couldn’t help but smile at your fidgeting and shifting around. 

Just thinking about Seonghwa wearing it, how pretty the red would look against his skin, the chains around his pretty neck-

“Please insert your card, dear,” the older woman called, still smiling brightly. 

You babbled out a “sorry” as you fumbled for your card to pay for the choker. The old woman was still smiling as you went through with the payment. 

And yes, the choker was incredibly expensive. No, it didn’t count as a student expense. 

But it was worth it for Seonghwa. 

The older woman pushed the bag across the counter to you. “There you go.” She flashed that sweet, warm smile at you again as you carefully lifted the bag off the counter. “I’m sure he’ll love it.” 

At that moment, you looked into her eyes. You looked for any deceit. Any lies. Any possible malice or potential push back. 

But there was nothing. Just light and joy. 

You smiled back and nodded as relief washed over you. “I think so too.” 

You placed the bag underneath the Christmas tree, hiding it behind the present you got Wooyoung. Thankfully, the both of them were still asleep when you arrived back at the house. 

A stark contrast to the night before, the house was quiet, and empty. No people, no music, nothing. Just a house, full of decorations. 

But now, you were fortunate for everyone to be asleep so you could tuck your very expensive, very special present behind the others. 

But since the moment you left the store, you were having doubts. You just spent a lot of money on Seonghwa. You bought him something very special, something most people don’t gift to others unless they’ve known each other for quite some time. 

You hadn’t known Seonghwa for quite some time. In fact, most people would think you’re doing much more than you should so early on. Even you were thinking that. 

But you couldn’t deny the ache in your chest when you thought about Seonghwa. The goddamn ache, the feeling that could’ve dropped you to your knees if you weren’t careful. The ache you felt all over your body when you didn’t get the chance to even hold his hand, to hug him, to be with him. 

The crippling feeling when you thought about going back to campus and not seeing him for months. 

Maybe you were falling too soon and too hard. Maybe this wasn’t right. 

You moved to reach for the bag when you heard two doors open and close. As footsteps moved across the hardwood floor upstairs, you worked to get your jacket and shoes off as quickly and quietly as possible before the owners came downstairs. 

You closed the door to the coat closet as Yeosang and Jongho made their way down the stairs, wearing what looked like Wooyoung’s shirts and shorts, their hair messy and eyes half open. You gave them the best smile you could muster at that point, but tried to not over do it. 

“What are you doing up so early?” Jongho asked, his voice scratchy and low. Your eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall in the living room, above the TV, and it was just after seven. Would it be early if you were still on campus? No. 

But you weren’t on campus, so yes, it was early. 

But you realized you didn’t have an excuse as to why you were up so early. 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you babbled, trying to sound as nonchalant as you could manage. To your relief, the two half awake men in front of you weren’t in the mood to interrogate you. 

“Us too,” Yeosang agreed, following Jongho into the kitchen. You did the same, getting glasses of water with them and sitting at the kitchen table. 

None of you said anything for a few moments. You three were enjoying the early morning silence, the peace, the few stray strands of sunlight peeking in through the windows and stretching across the floor. 

Eventually, Jongho broke the peaceful silence. “Do you think San and Wooyoung will be down before noon?” 

Yeosang pretended to think as he took another sip from his glass. He looked off, as if into the distance, like he was prophesying about the future. You couldn’t help but laugh. The sound made Yeosang smile. 

“No, I think they’ll be there until we go find them,” he concluded, finishing the rest of his water afterwards. You nodded in agreement, taking another sip from your glass. 

“I expected the same from you.” Jongho looked at you over the rim of his glass as he sipped his water. You looked down as your face began to burn. You didn’t have an answer to that, so you kept quiet. But you knew your friends wouldn’t let you off easy. 

Yeosang continued the conversation as he set his glass down in front of himself. “Yeah, it is a little weird that you’re awake so early, fully dressed, standing by the front door.” 

Both men were looking at you now as you stared down at the table, your face burning like the sun, the heat pulsing in waves. 

It’s not that you were worried that they’d spoil the surprise. You were more afraid of their opinions and judgements of the gift you got. You could handle the jokes and even fire back at them, and you welcomed the banter about the relationship you’d found yourself in. 

But you were already beginning to have second thoughts about the expensive present sitting across the house, tucked away under the tree, hidden away from sight because you were embarrassed. 

It was everything you were afraid of. Falling too hard too fast, committing to something larger than yourself, something you very well might not be ready for. 

“Hey,” Jongho called, waving his hand close to your face. “You kinda spaced there, you okay?” 

You blinked a few times, like you were rebooting yourself, and smiled as best you could. “Yeah, sorry, I’m good.” 

“Are you sure?” Yeosang countered. Their slightly amused faces turned to ones of concern, their eyebrows down. They weren’t sure what exactly was in your head, but they knew it wasn’t nothing, like you were about to tell them it was. 

And you knew they would push. But you didn’t want to vent all of your worries and fears and poor life choices at seven in the morning, especially when they didn’t know the full extent of the month’s events. 

Thankfully, you had your out, as Wooyoung came down the stairs with San close behind. They both looked like they’d skipped the waking up part of waking up, with fluttering mostly closed eyes and their hair the best example of a “rat’s nest.” 

Yeosang and Jongho looked up at them as they came into the kitchen, sliding their feet across the floor, hardly picking them up. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” you said cheerfully, trying to steer the conversation to the two zombie looking men that strode in. The two men at the table, to your relief, joined you in teasing the others. 

“The year hasn’t changed yet, just for reference,” Jongho threw out. Wooyoung rolled his eyes as he continued past the table to the cabinet to get himself and San a drink. 

San followed him, stopping when he did, wrapping his arms around Wooyoung’s waist from behind and laying his head on the younger’s shoulder. 

With the heat off you, you breathed a small sigh of relief. You knew this wouldn’t be the last of the conversation, but that would be a problem for future you to handle. 

Seonghwa didn’t wake up until an hour after San and Wooyoung had. That was to be expected, after all the party planning and hosting he’d done the day prior. Not to mention, the emotional distress was quite draining. 

Wooyoung helped him with breakfast, and you all ate with minimal conversation, of which you were grateful for. The less you spoke, the less chances you had to expose or incriminate yourself. 

The rest of the morning was mostly slow and quiet. You were all still recovering and resting from the previous day, and dreading the end of Winter Break as a whole. 

Classes started again in the second week of January, but you and Wooyoung had agreed to be back on campus by January 1st. 

If you weren’t counting Christmas Eve, the day you were thinking all of this, you had only one week left. Seven more days until you had to leave. 

It didn’t help that Seonghwa was being particularly clingy that day. He sat next to you at breakfast, he was holding your hand, he was giving you little kisses. 

He hugged you from behind as you were helping with the dishes, holding you tight while his body pressed into yours. 

He wordlessly demanded cuddles from you when everyone dispersed after breakfast. He pulled you onto the couch and held you tight, almost falling right back asleep when he did. 

You didn’t think, or really even wanted to, ask why Seonghwa was so attached to you that day. You told yourself it was because he was tired. Or maybe he realized you would be leaving in a week too.  

Whatever it was, you were conflicted. 

You couldn’t stop thinking as you laid in Seonghwa’s arms, your head on his chest. You wanted to relax into his warmth and safety and let the tension melt off your body. 

But you kept thinking of that goddamn choker. The choker you were so proud of finding, that you gladly spent so much money on, the choker that you knew would look amazing on him. 

It was stuck in your head because you didn’t know if you were actually going to give it to him or not. 

Maybe you’d just take it back to campus with you and save it for another time. Maybe you’d return it altogether. You’d just sit with Wooyoung as Seonghwa opened the Lego sets Wooyoung said you both could take credit for. 

Maybe that was the safer option. Maybe that was the less crazy option. 

But as you began to accept that conclusion and make peace with it, the ache was back. 

As you listened to Seonghwa’s steady heartbeat, feeling his hand run up and down your back, the ache returned with a burning passion. Your breathing grew labored, like the ache was genuinely squeezing your heart and forcing the air out of your lungs. 

Tears welled in your eyes as you imagined shoving the choker’s bag into your own and taking it back to campus with you. The ache spread to your arms and legs as you thought about never presenting the gift to him, and simply just watching him open the presents Wooyoung bought. 

Your whole body hurt. It felt like a pulsing, squeezing pain, and you couldn’t escape it. You couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face. 

You’d fallen in too deep. You fell too hard, too fast. 

Everything you’d been afraid of had happened exactly as you thought it would. 

By the time your friends left, the sky was already darkening again. As much as you all would’ve loved for them to stay, they had families to go home to as well. 

You wondered how long it would be before San and Wooyoung were consistently going to each other’s family events. Or even hosting their own. 

But it was hours since then, and you were sitting back on the couch with Seonghwa and Wooyoung. Seonghwa sat between the two of you, his arm around your shoulders, holding you tight against him, with Wooyoung sitting the same way. 

But Wooyoung was stretched across most of the couch and his arms were dramatically thrown around Seonghwa, like he was a figure in a painting you’d find in an old museum. 

You three had agreed to get snacks and drinks and watch Christmas movies until midnight, when you could open your gifts for each other. 

But the movies kept getting interrupted by Wooyoung being impatient, general commentary, and before you all knew it, you were all talking again with the movies long forgotten.

In a way, you preferred this. The more time you spent talking, the less time you had to think about the impending time of your decision. But as the clock ticked down, as midnight drew closer, your efforts were in vain. 

All you could think of was that goddamn choker. The repeated question of “will you, won’t you” flashing across your eyes like some kind of horror montage. 

You started to feel sick. Your stomach was churning, your head felt light. You were pretty sure you were beginning to turn green. All over a fucking choker. 

Midnight drew ever closer, and the dread in your stomach intensified and grew with every second that ticked by. Your eyes kept jumping back and forth, from the clock on the wall to the TV and back again. 

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Wooyoung sat up and yelled, “It’s Christmas!” 

Your hands were slightly shaking as Wooyoung got up from the couch and pulled you and Seonghwa along, dragging you across the room to kneel down by the Christmas tree. 

The warm lights of the tree that once brought you comfort now nearly made you vomit. 

You swallowed it back as you settled next to the tree on the hardwood floor, pushing the bag with the choker further back into the corner. Your wrapped your arm around your back in an effort to do so as subtly as possible. 

Seonghwa also came to sit on the floor in front of the tree between you and Wooyoung, but only after he’d gotten a trash bag to put the discarded wrapping paper in. Wooyoung happily shoved a box towards Seonghwa, a huge smile stretched across his face. 

“We got this one for you!” He dropped the present in Seonghwa’s lap as he reached over to grab the other boxes that had Seonghwa’s name on the tag. “And these ones too.” 

Seonghwa pouted, but then smiled warmly at his son. Oh, how ethereal he looked under the light of the Christmas tree, delicately highlighting his warm skin and putting sparkles in his eyes. 

You shook your head and came back to the present as Seonghwa began to tear the wrapping paper off the box in his lap. His smile grew bigger the more he revealed the box, and finally laughed in excitement. 

“Oh, nae sarang,” Seonghwa sighed, putting the wrapping paper in the trash bag. “This is so sweet of you, thank you.” 

Wooyoung was absolutely beaming, his smile outshining the tree beside him. His eyes flicked over to you, and you couldn’t help but share his smile. Seonghwa looked at you too, and your heart fluttered at the genuine gratitude in them. 

“Thank you too, jagiya.” 

You just nodded, your heart cracking a little. 

But you happily watched Seonghwa tear open the rest of the boxes. His eyes lit up every time, laughing in pure joy at the brand new expensive Lego sets. You nodded every time he said thank you, but guilt pulled at your heart knowing you didn’t actually contribute in any way. 

But Wooyoung didn’t seem to mind. He was just as happy seeing Seonghwa open the presents, as if he was the one receiving them instead of giving them out. 

You were truly the luckiest person to have Wooyoung. 

After Seonghwa had finished unwrapping the Lego boxes, he stacked them up and put them aside, and then pulled Wooyoung into a tight hug. 

“Thank you, nae sarang,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

“You’re welcome, Eomma,” Wooyoung whispered, squeezing Seonghwa tighter. 

Your heart cracked again. 

Wooyoung pulled away from Seonghwa and reached back under the tree for a bag. It looked fairly inconspicuous, just a regular white bag with white tissue paper sticking out the top. But in your experience with Wooyoung, quiet and boring was always suspicious. 

Seeing your hesitation, Wooyoung sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not a bomb, don’t look at it like that,” he whined. “Just open it.” 

“It’s a bag, it’s already open,” you teased, to which Wooyoung groaned and rolled his head back. Both you and Seonghwa let out a soft giggle. 

“Just open it, please!” 

With another giggle, you pulled the tissue paper aside and looked into the bag, seeing a bundle wrapped in more tissue paper. You carefully pulled it out and pulled the paper off to reveal the gift. 

“Wooyoung,” you breathed as you looked over the expensive outfit in your hands. The logo on the tag was what you saw first, your head shooting up to look at him in bewilderment. “What is this?” 

“Clothes, dummy,” he answered with his award winning smile again. “Now you don’t have to borrow my clothes for events.” 

You know his comment was a joke, but his words went straight to your heart. You hadn’t asked for this, Hell, you didn’t even think about buying it for yourself. 

But you finally had a nice outfit for events, or parties. 

Or maybe even future restaurant dates. 

“Thank you.” You carefully folded the clothes back up, as if they’d unravel in your hands, and laid them back in the bag. 

“You don’t have to thank me, it was a necessity.” 

You rolled your eyes, to which Wooyoung just smiled. You couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same. 

“Is it my turn now?” Seonghwa asked as you put the bag aside. Your eyes caught a glimpse of your own gift behind the tree again. 

“Sure,” you breathed, your lungs shrinking. Wooyoung eagerly reached under the tree and grabbed a box, wrapped in gold wrapping paper, with his name written on it in Hangul. 

He wasted no time in shredding the paper, almost reminiscent of a cat, and revealed a large, expensive laptop. Wooyoung just stared at it for a few moments with his jaw hanging open, his eyes the size of dinner plates. 

“Eomma,” he whispered, then looked up at Seonghwa. “When I said I wanted a new one, I wasn’t serious,” he started to explain, but Seonghwa held up his hand to stop him. 

“I don’t care, I wanted to get it for you. And I think college would be a little difficult with a broken laptop.” 

You held back a giggle remembering the moment Wooyoung dramatically wailed about how he accidentally knocked his previous laptop off a table and onto the linoleum floor of the classroom. 

Wooyoung just stared at Seonghwa for a few moments, like he was about to tell his son it was all a joke. But when Seonghwa just smiled at him, in the warm mom way, Wooyoung smiled too and hugged the box. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, nae sarang.” 

Wooyoung set the box aside carefully, slowly setting it down beside him, making sure it would be safe before he turned to you and Seonghwa. 

You looked up at Seonghwa, and he smiled at you warmly before he reached over and squeezed your hand. “Your present comes later.” 

It took every ounce of strength to not burst into tears right then and there. You just mustered up the best smile you could and nodded. There was no teasing look in Seonghwa’s eyes, no allusion to more. Just his warm smile and bright eyes. 

“Eomma, I didn’t need to know that,” Wooyoung groaned dramatically, speaking loudly as he flung himself back to lay on the floor. You rolled your eyes as Seonghwa pulled his hand away and looked back at Wooyoung. 

“It’s not like that,” he began, but Wooyoung just whined again. 

“If you’re gonna be like that, then I won’t give you your present,” you added as you pulled out a large, black bag from under the tree, with black wrapping paper sticking out of it. 

Wooyoung shot up and looked at you, and then at the bag, then back again in confusion. His brows went down as he opened his mouth to question you, but you just slid the bag across the floor to him. 

“I’ve had them hidden for months,” you explained as wooyoung grabbed the bag.

“Them?”

“Yes, them, now go look!” 

Wooyoung looked at the bag again, this time with a look of concern instead of confusion, like something was about to jump out at him. He studied the still bag for a few more moments before he finally pulled out the tissue paper and looked inside. 

And he pulled out two small plushies: A black cat and a red fox. 

Wooyoung gasped as he pulled them out, then hugged them tightly. “You remembered!” He exclaimed as he looked at them again, turning them over and admiring all the little details. 

Months prior, Wooyoung wouldn’t stop talking about these plushies he wanted. He had a collection going, and he needed those two to complete it, but he never had a chance to get them. 

So one night, you did. You ordered them online and hid them in your dorm for months, waiting for the day you could’ve given it to Wooyoung. 

And here you were, on Christmas Day, finally seeing his eyes light up like stars as he looked at them both, hugging them like they were his children. 

The sight helped alleviate some of the tension in your chest. 

“Thank you,” he finally said to you as he looked up. You smiled, and this time, it was genuine. 

“You’re welcome.” 

Meanwhile, Seonghwa was smiling just as brightly. The mom smile you adored, the softness in his eyes as he looked at you both with unending fondness. 

It cracked your heart all over again. 

With all your presents exchanged, Seonghwa and Wooyoung collected their gifts and went to bring them to their rooms. 

You did the same, but hid the choker bag in the gift bag Wooyoung gave you, and ran to your room to hide it there. 

How ridiculous this all was. You bought the choker for Seonghwa, you brought it home, you’d imagined how beautiful he’d look with it. You’d walked out of that store knowing he’d gratefully accept the gift, and you were excited to see him wear it. 

But how could you give someone like him something like this? This was far too much money for someone you haven’t known for nearly enough time. 

But you bought it because of the goddamn pain in your chest. The suffocating, choking ache that grew ever stronger every day. It invaded every part of your body, it was in your blood and bones. Even if you wanted to smother it and shove it away, it would take forever. 

You knew what it was. You knew why it was there. 

But you didn’t have the courage to say it. Which is why the choker was getting shoved in the duffle bag and into the closet as you fought back tears. 

Maybe you’d give it to Seonghwa another day. Maybe as a birthday present, whenever that was. 

But not now. You couldn’t do it now. 

As you wiped the tears from your eyes, there was a gentle knock at the door before it opened a little. 

“May I come in?” It was Seonghwa, you knew it was him before he even spoke. 

You nodded, as if he could see that, as you said “yes” and sat down on the bed. Seonghwa came into the room and carefully shut the door behind him before he came to sit down next to you. 

In his hand was a square, navy, velvet box, about the side of a small plate. He held it out to you with a warm smile that would have melted the coldest of hearts. You took the box from him carefully, like it would disappear at any second, and were surprised when it had a little weight to it. 

“It’s okay,” he said softly when you hesitated, putting one of his hands over yours. You looked up and met his big, brown eyes again. “It’s all yours, jagiya.” 

You just nodded, because you couldn't think of anything meaningful to say as your eyes fell back down to the box in your hands. 

You shoved away the guilt that stirred in your gut as you slowly opened the velvet case, and tears welled in your eyes all over again. 

It’s like Seonghwa knew you were buying him a choker earlier, and that you wanted something with more detail and intricacies. 

A necklace, but there were gemstones all up the chain with a larger one hanging from the bottom. The gemstones on the chain were small and simple. not trying to be in the way, but just to elevate the chain. 

The larger, square cut gemstone that hung from the ornate chain was meant to be in the way. It wasn’t obnoxiously large, no, it was just perfect. 

Everything was perfect. You were blinking back tears, it was so perfect. 

“Seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you whispered, your throat closing up. You ran your fingers over the gemstones, almost like you needed to touch it to see if it was real. 

Seonghwa was beaming, lighting up the whole room with his smile as he watched you admire the necklace. “You said you wanted something to show off.” 

“And I will.” You carefully lifted the necklace out of the box, and as you were going to put it on, Seonghwa stopped you and reached up to take it. 

“May I?” Two simple words. Words that were very small and insignificant to anyone else. 

But this moment felt like much more than just putting on a necklace. 

It almost felt sacred. Intimate. Like a ceremony. 

You nodded and gave the necklace to Seonghwa. He moved closer and wrapped it around your neck, reaching over your shoulder to clasp it behind your neck. You felt your face burn at how close he was, with his arms around you, his body enveloping yours. 

But he pulled back just a few seconds later to admire how the beautiful piece sat against your skin. Seonghwa’s eyes lit up like stars as his smile spread across his whole face again. “I knew it was perfect,” he said softly as he ran his fingers down the chain. 

If your heart could beat any harder, the large stone on the necklace would’ve started shaking. It was a bizarre feeling, to be so guilty and torn up, but so elated, and desire the man before you. 

And when Seonghwa’s eyes flicked up to yours, it’s as if he could see it all. Every tear, every smile, eerie second guess you’d ever had. Like he could see the entire month of December replaying in your eyes in those few seconds. 

There were no other words spoken as Seonghwa leaned close and pressed his lips to yours. It was a soft kiss, feather light. Loving. 

When Seonghwa laid you down on your back, your body turned to putty in his hands. Your limbs were growing weak as you wrapped them around his body. You wanted him as close as close could be, wanted to remember his taste, every soft moan as he breathed his life into every kiss, the touch of his hands on every part of your body. 

You wanted it all. And Seonghwa was more than happy to provide. 

The first day of the new year had come and gone. The thirty one days of December went by faster than they had in previous years. 

But as you and Wooyoung loaded your bags back up into his car, you were anything but joyful. 

“We’ll visit again during Spring Break,” he reassured you as he closed the trunk. “And it’s not like you don’t have his number, you can still talk to him.” 

Wooyoung was trying his best to reassure you, but his face fell when he realized nothing was working. Everything he was telling you, you already knew it. Obviously you’d see Seonghwa again, and you’d probably be texting him at least once every few days, if not every day. 

The world was not ending. This blissful period did, but it wasn’t the end of everything. You’d be back, you’d see Seonghwa again. 

But the months between January 1st and Spring Break would be difficult after the month you’d just lived through. 

It felt juvenile. You were a grown adult in college, working towards a degree to hopefully secure a good career and have a comfortable life. You had classes to worry about, not your boyfriend who’s double your age. 

But he wouldn’t ever leave your head. You knew in your head that when you went back to class, he’d probably be there in the back of your head. 

An effort in mental gymnastics is what these next few months would hold. 

Wooyoung brought you back up to the house for your final goodbyes. Seonghwa was standing in the open doorway, dressed in a cream knitted sweater with black sweatpants. Normally, he was dressed up in some way, even if it was a pajama set. Today, he hadn’t bothered with fashion. 

Wooyoung hugged him first, squeezed him so tight, he lifted Seonghwa off the floor. For the first time that morning, you smiled as they both laughed. The noise of surprise and protest Seonghwa let out just made Wooyoung hoist him up more, until all three of you were laughing. 

“How could you put your poor eomma through such things?” Seonghwa asked in a perfectly dramatic voice as he made a show of fixing his hair and sweater. 

“As if you’re any better,” Wooyoung teased. Seonghwa just smiled and kissed his head, to which Wooyoung reciprocated with a cheek kiss. 

“Be safe, nae sarang.” 

“I will, Eomma.” 

They exchanged an “I love you” before Wooyoung walked away, and gave you a nod before he went to sit in the car to wait. 

It was like a movie scene. The sun was setting, the snow was falling. The sunset colors illuminated your face as Seonghwa gave you a half hearted smile. 

You wordlessly hugged him tightly, and he instantly returned the hug. You two stayed there in that hug, silently clinging onto each other like it would be the last time. 

It wouldn’t be the last time. Far from it. 

But you both found something that December. You found someone. And it was so special, you couldn’t bear to lose it. 

As you pulled back to look up at him, the little voice was in your head again. Telling you that you were taking this too seriously, that you shouldn’t have been so upset, that this wasn’t a big deal. 

The voice disappeared as Seonghwa pulled you into another loving kiss. The idea that this was a movie scene popped back into your head as he held your cheek and kept you close. 

You could've sworn you heard your heart break when you both pulled away. 

“Be safe,” Seonghwa softly said onto your lips. You nodded as you painstakingly pulled out of his arms. 

“I will. You too.” 

Seonghwa gave you another small smile. His eyes flicked down to the necklace that you still wore. You’d worn it every day since the night he gave it to you, and kept it in it’s case every night. 

You smiled back before you forced yourself to walk back to Wooyoung’s car. Seonghwa watched from the doorway until Wooyoung’s car disappeared, and he could no longer hear it. 

Wooyoung reached over the center console and held your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing. He didn’t need to say anything, no words needed to be said. 

But as you were swallowing back the tightness in your throat and blinking back tears, the comfort felt good. The firm squeeze was what you needed, as you both were headed back to campus, unsure of where life was going to bring you both next.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez ff #ateez x reader #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa fanfiction #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa fic #seonghwa ff #seonghwa x reader #best friend's mother

[hrts4scarr]

ᯓ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ⑅ walk him like a dog 2 ✯ jb22 .ᐟ.ᐟ

★ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃﹕﹙ yes/no ﹚ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘﹕﹙in which sebastian vettels sister gets her dream job to work along with him, but stumbles across an infamous playboy﹚ — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒﹕﹙purpose use of lowercase letters only, not sure if there's gonna be another part, use of y/n, black-cat!reader, golden-retriever-ish!jenson, past-playboy!jenson, lowkey-past-toxic!jenson, VERYY light angst [i think], probably not well proofread, lmk if there's anything i missed!!﹚ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆﹕﹙jenson button 22 x f!vettel!reader﹚ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓﹕﹙icba checking but it's not much at all imooo fjdkjfdsjfkla﹚ ★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙part two who cheered !?﹚

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JENSON COULDN'T HELP BUT look at the red bull racer's sister eating her lunch with some of her co-workers. she fit right in and right away, even only after a week. she was smiling. oh, her smile. it was different than how she smiled with her brother. how jenson would do anything to make her smile that genuine smile she had with her brother.

"staring at my sister, huh?"

jenson whipped his head around to see sebastian vettel. he opens his mouth then closes it as he sees the fellow driver's raised eyebrows.

sebastian's cold face cracks into a grin. he throws his head back and laughs. "you should have seen the look on your face!"

jenson grumbles under his breath.

"alright, all jokes aside, please don't play with my sisters heart." sebastian puts a hand on jenson's shoulder.

"why would i ever-" jenson starts as he looks at him, but seb raises his eyebrows.

jenson purses his lips. "i.. alright, maybe you're right and i'm sorry."

seb sighs softly. "i'm just looking out for my sister, alright? i love her very much, with all my heart. i don't want to see it broken. i don't want to see *her* broken. just please, promise me."

"i promise." jenson nods sternly.

〜

days after days, you and jenson had formed a friendly and healthy relationship, in which you both hoped would never be ruined. every time you laughed or smiled, you didn't know the thoughts lingering behind the eyes that shined when you did so. you've opened up more and more, finally showing the fun side of you.

jenson hoped to keep it that way. he hoped that your friendship would never be ruined. he'd never felt this way before, and he didn't know whether you felt the same way or not. being the infamous playboy he was, of course he didn't want to break your heart like he did to the other girls. he made a promise to your brother, a promise he could and would never break. you were too dear to him, too precious. he didn't want to break you. he vowed to, with all his life and heart, and he would never admit that to anyone or to himself.

so from then on, he kept it a secret. a secret he couldn't bear. and little did he know, that you on the other hand, was starting to catch feelings too. and you would never admit that to yourself either.

you both had fallen too hard to ever want to break your relationship. your personalities might be polar opposites, but the way you both want to keep your loved ones close and protected was a trait you shared.

jenson, the infamous playboy he was known as, obviously had toyed with a 'few' girls hearts. he's not one to think before he acts. he's the outgoing, social golden retriever.

you were oftenly known is the black cat, and the studiouss quiet kid. you were known by everyone, but not exactly popular. you plan out your movements carefully, always one step ahead. perfect match, honestly.

but further more, jenson made you feel special. you wanted to deny that feeling that made you think, 'he probably gives this treatment to every girl.' but oh, how you were wrong.

he would never offer to carry an item that weighed less than a pound for the 'other' girls. ("here, let me help you with that." "jenson, i can carry it, it's fine!! it's literally just a-" "no, please just let me help." and of course you had to give in to those helpless eyes. that effect he had on you made you weak in the knees.) he would never buy the 'other' girls special and thoughtful gifts. ("please, darling, this is my treat." "but jens-" "i said it once and ill say it again. my. treat.") he would never follow those 'other' girls around like he did to you, like a dog on a leash. ("walk him like a dog." seb snorted. "shut up!!" you muttered, feeling your cheeks get slightly red. jenson rolled his eyes, continuing to follow you neverless.)

it was never those 'other' girls, who he never even talked to anymore ever since he had met you. it's always been you. and from then, it would never change.

★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙i MIGHTTT take some blurb and part requests for this series, so ill lyk if i do!!﹚ ౨ৎ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓﹕﹙@gray4youuu @c-losur3 @ujws5 @namgification @faithshouseofchaos @isurvived3-11andimproud @somebodyonce-toldme @44lewico﹚

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notes, comments, reblogs, feedback and follows are greatly appriciated!

!! PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON OTHER WEBISTES/APPS OR COPY MY ORIGINAL WORK !!

#౨ৎ﹔💌 ┄ scar's works ! 🪽 #౨ৎ﹔🏎️ ┄ scar's works ! 🪽 #ᯓ 𐙚 walk him like a dog fic ˚⋆. #hrts4scarr #lvrzzscarr #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #formula 1 smut #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula one #formula one x y/n #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one imagine #f1blr #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 edit #f1 x you #fanfic #f1 fluff #f1 fanfiction #f1 x female reader

[mammons-hubby]

Hiiii :3 can I request platonic headcanons of the brothers with MC who is a child/preteen? You pick which age you're more confident writing, but like in this 8-12 yrs range if possible, thank youuu🩷

I wasn't sure if to make the Mc be cursed or the Mc being chosen for the program while still being a child. I chose the later, hope you enjoy!

The little Mc! :

When the one stepping out of the portal was a 10 year old, he almost passed out.

Lucifer

This wasn't in the papers, at ALL. There is just no way this could've possibly happen, maybe a child stepped into the portal by accident?

But no, once the kid was questioned it was obvious they were the exchange student they were expecting.

Internal panic.

This kid can't go to the basically highschool for demons, and there are no schools in the Devildom.

He has a really stern talk with the brothers so they behave in front of them.

Depending on your behavior he may start to get more grey hairs or take a big liking to you.

In the end he ends up really attached to you.

Pampers you, and denies he does it.

"What?! I gotta take care of a kid?!"

Mammon

New babysitter for Mc. He at first dislikes it a ton, but he has a soft spot for kids so he doesn't take it on you, but you notice he is kinda mad.

Very overprotective. Not at first but with just a couple of days he really starts to like you and can't leave your side.

Will bother you to get a reaction, if you start crying he may even give you some Grimm.

Teaches you how to gamble and gets strung to the ceiling.

Gives you piggybacks.

He may involve you in money schemes at first but never putting you in any actual real harm.

Great. A little kid with sticky fingers.

Leviathan

He doesn't want you anywhere near his room at first, afraid that you will break his precious figurines or destroy his Manga collection.

He still forces you to watch Anime, but in the living room with him. Once you get a liking to it he even dresses you up as his favorite characters.

Once he realizes you won't purposefully break anything of his, he invites you to his room.

You are mesmerized by the pretty lights, the bathtub and the giant aquarium, you say hi to Henry and he melts.

He sees you looking everywhere with awe, and he feels very proud of himself.

From then, you start to play games in his room and carefully read his Mangas.

Lets you play with his tail in his demon form. He finds it kinda funny but gets grossed out when you put it in your mouth and cover it up with saliva. Eugh.

He is kind of curious about you and how you ended up in the Devildom, for Lucifer to make such an oversight is clearly extremely bizarre, almost imposible.

Satan

You kinda look at him with your big baby eyes and he looks back at you, until one of you stops staring and go back to their normal routine.

He is chosen by Lucifer to be your personal teacher. He complains but knows he has to do it.

He will try and teach you things to bother Lucifer, succeeding in some and failing in others.

But he also takes a lot of effort to learn about human culture and teach you the right things and needed things for your mental development.

Will read for you to fall asleep. Devildom fairy stories and others, you seem to like grim stuff too but he reads this stuff to you very rarely. Doesn't want you to be negatively affected.

Buys you a cat onesie and takes lots of pics. Super adorable.

He finds you extremely adorable and amusing, like a little pet.

Asmodeous

He will dress you up in the prettiests of clothings, with the most expensive perfume and hair decorations.

You seem upset and he doesn't understand at first. You explain you don't like being treated like a doll for his amusement.

He thought he was doing everything right?

He thinks about it hard and realizes that maybe being treated like a thing rather than a person must've hurt you.

He apologizes to you and offers to take you to eat something yummy.

He tries and know more about your likes and dislikes. About the shows you like, your favorite colors, the type of clothing you like.

He takes you to buy some pretty clothes of your choosing, and even gets you a cute haircut.

You feel better when you can also express yourself. But from time to time you let him dress you as he wishes, you even match clothings sometime.

Okay so at first a bit dangerous to be near him, considering he sees you as small and chubby and feels the urge to put you in his mouth.

Beelzebub

Once he controls the urges, he is very sweet and caring.

Kinda blunt when he talks, but not clueless. He is not dumb so he knows that he shouldn't say certain things, but considering he is quite honest he lets slip some stuff, but inmediatly notices and fixes it.

Will share his food with you and sit you on his lap while you eat, sorry if you get slobber on your head.

Will make sure you get proper exercise so you grow strong.

Will also take you on piggyback rides wherever you'd like.

Considering he has a younger brother, he grows attached to you very quickly and would give his life for you, and take others.

Belphegor

It depends. If this is an universe where Belphegor doesn't have a vendetta against humans, he may not care too much at first, but then begins to like you.

He would take naps with you, and help you draw and color stuff.

He is the youngest brother, so he may teach you how to get away with being a brat, much to Lucifer's dismay.

Now. If it's the og timeline Belphie?

Things are difficult. He will still try and trick you into doing the pacts with his brothers. And you're a child, so you'd probably believe him.

He does feel more guilty about wanting to kill you, but in the end commits regardless.

It's up to you to forgive him or not. He did kill a child after all.

The brothers are all shocked at him, and disgusted.

It takes a while before things settle down after discovering you're Lilith's descendant.

They're very wary of leaving you with him in a room, in case he tries to hurt you.

But Belphegor feels extremely guilty. It eats him alive, he can't believe that his rage for humanity would make him kill a literal kid.

He tries to make it up to you by being present in your life. Helping you get ready on your day to day life. Taking you places you need to go, pampering you.

It's still up to you if you'll ever forgive him. Perhaps you do, but you'll never forget it.

You can still have a nice relationship with him though, it's not the end of the world. And your life is just beginning.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me nightbringer #obey me satan #Obey me asmodeous #Obey me shall we date #Omswd

[separatist-apologist]

Fuck Me Up, Florida

Summary: Elain has some regrets- she'll bury them in Florida.

Read on AO3

Before:

Elain stood on the edge of her cottage, arms crossed over her chest. Maybe they’d taken things too far this time but there wasn’t room for this interloper, this stranger from an even stranger land. She and Lucien had lived in the swamplands for centuries—they would outlast the so-called witch seeking to take their territory.

But Lucien’s face…oh. He knelt beside her, head bowed as blood crusted over his golden skin. “You should go—”

“I’ll kill her,” Elain replied calmly, drawing forth the magic pulsating against her fingertips. She might lack Lucien’s ability to shift himself at will, to take on the terrifying form of the alligators that guarded the waters, nor could she rip out a throat with her teeth.

Elain could merely gaze into the future and reshape it to her will. 

The witch—Amarantha, they called her—was from another place with crueler, colder rules. Her magic was just as old, but twisted and dark and wholly out of place in the warm, sunlit paradise. Elain had seen how it ended, saw the witch crumble to dust, though when she tried to see how, the future shifted wildly into a kaleidoscope of color. 

The witch could be defeated. She would be defeated, if only for what she’d done to Lucien.

So Elain waited, dagger hidden beneath the cool material of her skirt, while Lucien continued to kneel beside her. He wanted to leave while they were still intact, but Elain refused. This was their home. She’d give it up over her dead body. 

“Is that so?” Amarantha purred, stepping from seemingly thin air. Everything about her set Elain’s on edge. She was bone pale, with eyes so black they seemed to bleed against the whites of her eyes. Her hair was the same shade of freshly spilt blood and around one long, spindly finger she wore a ring made from a real, moving eye.

Her dress slithered against the mud, silencing the once lively world. “You’ll leave over your dead body?”

Lucien’s head snapped up, tasting the iron tang of magic mere seconds before Elain did. Amarantha pointed at Elain, eyes burning with deathly amusement. 

“No—!”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Amarantha purred. Elain was frozen, trapped in a swirling mass of air. “She’ll be back.”

“Don’t,” Lucien pleaded. “I’ll do anything—”

“I want nothing from you. Only her and her meddling sisters. Let’s play a game…just to make it fair. I won’t kill her, little demon. She’ll be reborn and given one mortal lifespan. Bring him an offering of flesh as a sign of our bargain…and in return, if you can convince her to tell you she loves you, I’ll return her memories.”

Elain wanted to scream at Lucien not to take the deal. It was a fools errand—to rob her of her memories, to make her think she was mortal and then present her with a male who looked so inhuman no human would ever stand to be in his presence.

Say no, she tried to plead with her eyes. Feyre and Nesta would avenge her. Lucien looked up at her, face still freshly scarred, and shook his head. He knew it was impossible—a fools bargain. And still.

“It’s a deal.”

Elain took a breath.

And then she was gone. 

Now: 

She didn’t know how it happened. 

One minute Elain Archeron had been listening to Graysen go on yet another tirade and the next…the next her hands her bloodied and Graysen was laying there lifeless, eyes glassy and tilted toward the vaulted ceiling. If she wanted to be honest with both herself and God, Elain would have admitted that she’d simply lost her temper.

He wasn’t yelling at her. Not this time, anyway. Instead, Graysen yelled about immigrants, he yelled about his politics, he yelled until his face was red and he realized that the only person left to yell at was her. And Elain was simply tired of apologizing.

She’d wanted him to just stop. To give her a moment to think, to settle her galloping heart. Even when she slept it was never peaceful, never deep. She tiptoed through her own life, making herself small and sweet so as not to draw his ire.

She’d always been that way.

What had been different, she wondered? 

But she knew the answer to that, too. Two years of marriage—and two years of infidelity. She’d discovered it the week before when his phone lit up at three am, just in time for Elain to get up and use the bathroom. She couldn’t say what was different about that night, too. Maybe it had been the Georgia heat. Or maybe her body knew something her brain did not. Elain had spent the night scrolling through hundreds of love sick messages, and a hundred more that painted her out to be a frigid, standoffish wife who didn’t care about her husband's needs.

Any woman dumb enough to believe the tired story of the neglected married man deserved whatever she got. Which, in Elain’s estimation, was a man who yelled about everything all the time. He didn’t yell at that other woman, though. 

He called her beautiful.

Elain could still remember when Graysen had talked to her like that, too.

So when he started yelling, Elain’s patience was already shredded thin. There was simply no more good will left. She’d picked up a heavy crystal face and smashed it over the back of his head. Graysen had pitched forward, forehead slamming against the sharp edge of their coffee table, rendering him dead before he ever connected with their hardwood. 

She’d intended to turn herself in. That was the reasonable thing to do. Nesta was a lawyer, Feyre was married to old money—she figured she could spend a decade or so behind bars, even if orange did wash her out. 

The world worked in mysterious ways. As Elain was picking up her phone, 911 already dialed, her phone dinged a warning.

Hurricane Elaine scheduled to make landfall on…

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

Elain burst out laughing. Hurricane Elaine? Really? Surely it was some cosmic joke and yet…

“Hello?”

“Sorry,” Elain said, still laughing like a lunatic. “My daughter, she…sorry.”

The annoyed operator on the other end huffed out a sigh, assured Elain it happened all the time, and ended the call. 

Hurricane Elaine.

Elain was on the Florida-Georgia line, just far enough from the worst of the coming storm. It was a six hour drive to Destin, risky considering Elain had moved her husband's dead body to the back of his truck. If anyone noticed or stopped her, it was all over.

But if they didn’t…

Oh. But if they didn’t.

Graysen had a timeshare in Destin. It wasn’t much, though he was proud of it all the same. She’d never liked it, truth be told but in that moment, standing beneath a starry Georgia sky, Elain used their points and booked a week. It was the kind of thing Gray would do. He never wanted to evacuate, never took these kinds of threats seriously. Elain would dump his body in a swamp and then say the water simply swept Graysen away. 

Maybe it would take her, too.

Elain didn’t have a preference one way or the other, truth be told. She merely thought getting away with his murder was another outcome she could live with right alongside being swept away by the sea. She thought about all of it as she drove in the dead of night, amazed by the traffic trying to leave Florida as Elain tried to enter.

Every couple songs on the radio warned about the impending storm. She didn’t care. Eain was giddy by the time she pulled into the resort, careful to hide Graysen’s body beneath a tarp. It couldn’t stay in her car for long without risking being caught, not with the Florida humidity. She simply needed to check in to make her story believable, and hope no one bothered checking the security cameras.

“You’re brave, checking in,” the cheerful woman at the front desk told her. 

“Or stupid,” Elain replied with an easy smile. “My husband thought we’d have the pool all to ourselves.”

“Ocean, too,” the receptionist said before handing Elain the keys. “We aren’t required to evacuate but if things get any worse, you should.”

“I will,” she swore like a liar. All she needed was that key and a plausible alibi, after all. She’d been here, not committing any murders. Was it a crime to be stupid? No, especially not in Florida.

They could suspect her all they like, Elain didn’t care. She was free of Graysen without the mess of a divorce.

Would she feel grief once the dust had settled? When Graysen was nothing more than a few picked over bones at the bottom of a swamp would it all hit her? Would relief turn to misery? Would she lie awake in bed missing the warmth of his body?

Climbing back into her car, already warmed from the Florida heat, Elain decided she couldn’t let herself care. Not right then, anyway. Besides, if Elain was honest with herself, she was having a disturbing amount of fun.

Rolling down her window, Elain let the wind ruffle her hair like an affectionate parent as she grinned, cheeks pink from the humidity. If a hurricane was on its way, the world gave no sign of it. Though, Elain had turned from Destin to make her way toward a swamp that would become Graysen’s final resting place. 

Good riddance, she thought. This was where she’d bury all her regrets, her mistakes, her ghosts. Maybe herself, too, though it was too early to make that determination. Maybe once Graysen had been dumped and Elain was alone in the resort, hurricane winds pounding against the roof. 

Maybe. 

Truth be told, Elain didn’t want to mourn or miss him. Her whole marriage felt like she’d been grieving a man who’d died the day she met him at the altar. He’d once been kind and sweet, had looked at her like she was the sun and he was merely a frigid planet begging for warmth. He’d been the one who’d changed, who’d embraced cold so brutal no light could penetrate his rotted heart. 

Killing him had been an extreme course correction and yet…and yet Elain couldn’t find the empathy people had always praised her for. Couldn’t find anything but the knob of the radio and then her voice singing along, loud enough to be heard over the rush of the road. Nevermind that there was a dead body in the back of her stolen truck—the songs were all bops as palm trees became cypress and  mangrove. 

The air was thicker somehow, as if charged with magic. It was tempting to think that was just Florida itself and not her own delirious joy seeping out of her. She was nearly finished with the whole debacle. Her heart pounded as she pulled off the main road, tires betraying her in the mud as she crept deeper into territories unknown. 

This was the hard part. As Elain cut the ignition, she considered for a moment the absurdity of her plan. If it worked, it would be sheer luck and nothing else. There was blood in her apartment, tire treads in the mud, and a hurricane on the horizon. She ought to go back to her original plan and call her older sister for help. Nesta would know what to do, would be able to get her out of serious trouble.

Elain knew if she dumped this body, there would be nothing Nesta could do to soften that blow. There would be no painting Elain as a victim but the aggressor, the abuser—everything Graysen had been before she took his life and made him part of the Florida ecosystem. 

Elain took a breath before deciding fuck it. She’d come this far, hadn’t she? Might as well see it all the way through. Elain hopped from the cab, flats sucked into the mud so deeply she thought she might need to abandon them altogether. Managing to get her feet out of the mud, Elain pulled the tarp she’d half wrapped Graysen in from the back of the truck until his body slid to the ground.

The Florida heat was getting to her. Or, maybe it wasn’t the heat that was making her feel a little manic but the humidity—whatever it was, Elain let out a soft laugh before grabbing Graysen by his limp arms. She tried hard not to look too closely at his gray skin, eyes trained on the path ahead. Just get him the water, she told herself.

Television hadn’t prepared Elain for how heavy a dead body was. Graysen didn’t look like such a solid man but right then, Elain wanted to scream as she inched him forward, sweat dripping from her nose.

She was leaving DNA everywhere—if she didn’t get caught it was simply law enforcement refusing to do their job entirely. As she dragged him toward the murky water, Elain considered that she was merely digging her own grave, too. She ought to climb in after Graysen and let the alligators have her, too.

In the end, Elain kicked Graysen into the water with a heaving breath of air. He plopped into the green tinted water with a heavy splash that silenced the insects, if only for a moment. Shoulders aching, she braced herself against the sticky bark of a leaning tree, eyes closed.

It was done. She’d done it. There was no going back now. She could have turned back anytime before Graysen sank to the bottom of the swamp but now…now there was no way in hell Elain was getting in that water to try and drag him out.

She needed to leave. Spend the week in the timeshare at the pool until the hurricane hit and then…she didn’t know. She had no plan, no idea how to go about things and she was terrified to google any of it. 

Elain opened her eyes, surprised to find she wasn’t alone. A man was coming toward her as he pulled thick, auburn hair up off his face in a messy bun.

“Are you alright?” he asked, eyes gleaming. Three long, vicious scars cut down one strange, gold eye that didn’t match the brown of the other. 

Elain nodded her head, heart pounding in her throat. What had he seen? Mouth dry, tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, Elain could do nothing but wait as he came toward her. He wore light clothing that looked far more comfortable than her own, the white cotton of his shirt sticking against the muscular contours of his chest. 

“What are you doing so far out here?” he pressed, eyes sliding from her to the water just beneath her. There was no evidence of what she’d done if he ignored the path she’d carved through mud and vegetation dragging Graysen’s body. And if he walked just half a mile toward the gravel road, she’d find Graysen’s truck parked, the doors flung open and likely filled with mosquitoes. 

“I like nature,” she told him. It wasn’t even a lie—Elain worked for the botanical garden back home and maintained her own in the backyard she’d once shared with Graysen. “I’ve always wanted to see a swamp.”

“Could have taken a tour,” he said, eyes twinkling. “The alligators are real aggressive out here.”

“They can’t be that bad if you’re out here,” she shot back, unsure why she was being so combative with this man. 

Something green glimmered beneath the collar of his shirt, inked against his skin. What kind of tattoo was it, she wondered? 

“I practically live here,” he replied as he came closer, hands jammed in his pockets. 

“You work in a swamp?”

He only shrugged. “It’s a living, right?”

“Well, if you’re not afraid of gators, neither am I.”

He came closer still. “There’s worse things in gators out in the swamps.”

Elain froze. There she was, in the middle of nowhere talking to a stranger who had appeared seemingly out of thin air. Her hair curled in the humidity, her face slick with sweat and yet he seemed serene. Unbothered by the heat, the heavy air, or their surroundings. Elain took a step backward.

“Right. Well I uh…should be going.” He didn’t try and stop her, seemingly amused as she made her way back up the path. “Watch yourself, Elain. There’s a hurricane coming, you know.”

She only nodded, turning her back on him to rush back to the car. She was too stressed to deal with the stranger in the swamp. Elain didn’t let herself think about him until she was back in the room at the resort standing beneath cool shower water.

Watch yourself, Elain.

Had she told him her name? Elain genuinely couldn’t remember. The stress of everything was getting to her—maybe she had. In that southern kind of way, a greeting that included letting him know who she was so he knew she was no threat at all.

Why not tell him what she’d done, too? Hi, I’m Elain Archeron and I murdered my husband. 

Make it easier on the police when they went looking for witnesses. She could have given that man the murder weapon had it not been shattered in hundreds of pieces on her living room floor. Still, Elain replayed that parting sentence over and over in her head. Elain, Elain, Elain. Why had she told him her name? Why hadn’t she asked for his? 

Should she have done something more? Assured him she was just a normal woman lost in the heart of a swamp she had no business being in? Had he watched her drag that body and merely waited to see what would happen? She was more concerned with getting caught than what she’d actually done, which also worried her.

What kind of person murdered their husband? 

She did, apparently. Elain didn’t think she was a bad person—just sad. Mad, too, that things hadn’t worked the way she’d wanted to. Angrier still that she’d loved him the way she had and in the end, it hadn’t even been good enough. She still remembered insisting to Nesta that Gray was her soulmate and their love was the thing of legends. It was love so pure, so perfect, so timeless that one day people would write books about it.

She supposed she hadn’t been wrong about that last one. Some true crime junkie would pick up this story and write about her. Would they call her a Black Widow? No, she decided as she laid there in the dark listening to the wind. She had no intention of remarrying, after all, and certainly wouldn’t kill another man. But they’d come up with some other offensive nickname for her, labeling her without really knowing her heart. 

Elain fell asleep easier than she’d expected to, though her dreams were confusing and vivid. She was back in that swamp, wading deeper and deeper into the water as something made its way toward her, gold eyes reflecting the moonlight onto the water. Blood—no, hair—fanned out behind the creature and when he raised his head to smile, teeth sharpened to a point.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, his voice cutting through the still night. Elain couldn’t move, frozen in place as he came further and further out of the water. The green on his neck, she realized, wasn’t a tattoo but scales and behind him, a tail propelled him forward just as surely as his legs did.

She couldn’t scream. Trapped in mud, Elain could only stand as he came closer and closer, water dripping from his bare chest. The opaque water obscured his bottom half which was for the best—she was certain she didn’t want to see it. 

He reached out to touch her, golden skin somehow glowing in the moonlight, and—

Elain woke to the sound of thunder, sheets sticking to her sweat soaked skin. The doors to the balcony attached to her bedroom were flung open and though it wasn’t raining yet, puddles of water pooled on the tile floor. Elain sighed loudly, palm pressed right above her breast in an attempt to silence her screaming heart.

It was just a dream. A nightmare, truly, borne of her guilty mind and her fear she was going to be caught. Elain forced herself to get up, grab a towel from the bathroom, and wipe up the water. This time, she made sure she locked the balcony doors so the wind wouldn’t blow them open before she crawled back into bed.

The nightmares were the same, though. 

And when she woke, the doors were opened again.

Unwilling to take it lying down, Elain went down to the front desk to ask if she could be moved. Her doors, she explained ruefully—if there was a hurricane, she didn’t want to deal with water flying in. The person at the front desk was far less sympathetic to Elain’s cause and though they didn’t say so, it was clear they thought she and everyone else still at the resort was an idiot.

She tried not to let it bother her. 

She needed to just stick to her plan. It was a terrible plan, admittedly, but it was too late to back out, now. Elain spent the day sitting outside by the pool holding a book in her hand, too nervous to read even a page. She kept waiting for the police to descend on her, led by the man haunting her nightmares.

There she is, he’d say with open accusation. There’s the woman who murdered her husband and thought she could get away with it. 

They didn’t come. Frantically checking the news every couple of minutes, Elain found more warnings of the tropical storm about to descend on them, found other stories of murder, but nothing about her. No one had called to check in on Gray—not even the woman he was having an affair with. Elain had his phone sitting on her bedside table, monitoring it for anyone who might be worried about him.

No one was. 

It was almost too easy. 

If it hadn’t been for the nightmares, Elain might have just turned around and gone home. Maybe that would have silenced her nightmares. Elain dreamt of the man again, noting the way the green scales seemed more repetilian than those of a tattoo. This time, as Elain waded into the swampy water, she found her voice again.

“Who are you?” she asked, white nightgown floating around her.

He offered her a truly terrifying smile, those teeth tinged red in the moonlight. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he told her again, his voice a haunting melody. 

“Why?”

He was close enough she could smell the earthy scent of him. It was familiar, somehow, though she was certain she’d remember if she’d seen him before.

He merely cocked his head, standing to his full height. Water sluiced off his body and though she knew this was merely a dream from her stressed out and panicked brain, Elain’s eyes dipped between his legs all the same. Now she knew it was a dream because men should only have one appendage…and this man had two. What was wrong with her? 

He didn’t seem concerned with her gaze—not amused nor offended. Instead, he stepped forward, reaching for a long curl between two long, strong fingers.

“Mate,” he whispered, reaching for her before she could stumble back. It was just a dream, she told herself…and yet it felt real. Elain swore she could feel the sharpened claws against her back just as surely as she could feel the warm water enveloping her.

“What about alligators?” she breathed, earning a soft chuckle from the creature holding her.

“You don’t need to worry about anything harming you,” he said, dipping his head to run his nose along the shell of her ear. 

“Because this is a dream,” she said, eyes closed.

Another laugh drew shivers up her spine. “Whatever you say.”

But it was a dream, even if it felt real. She knew she’d wake up and the door would be open because subconsciously she wanted to get caught. “What’s your name?”

“Lucien,” he replied, running a finger over her cheek. How long had it been since someone had touched her like this? Like she was special, cherished—loved? 

“Why are you waiting for me?” she questioned, deciding if it really was a dream, maybe it didn’t have to be a nightmare. Maybe she could enjoy herself in the privacy of her strange fantasies. Maybe the scales, which she found softer than she expected them to be, were representative of something. 

“You’re my mate,” he murmured. Hadn’t she just read a book about that? The men hadn’t been so strange looking—merely more handsome versions of humans, their ears a little pointed, their teeth a little sharper. Elain relaxed in his arms as she realized she was merely trapped in a strange dream about the men she read in books.

“Of course,” she said, amusement lacing her tone. He cocked his head, wet hair plastered to his bare shoulder.

“You don’t believe me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Elain declared blithely, kicking her feet gently in the water between them. “I think I left a body in here.”

“He’s gone now,” Lucien informed her. Oh, how Elain wished that was true. “Who was he to you?”

“My husband,” she said mirthfully as she inclined her head toward the moon overhead. “He yelled a lot.”

Lucien’s grip around her body tightened. “Did he hurt you?”

“Not in the ways that matter.”

“They matter to me,” he said, and of course they did. Elain loved herself and this man was merely an extension of her own mind. Still, pretend or not, it felt good to have someone care about her. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she told him, turning to look him back in the eyes. It was here she found those scars again and wondered what had caused them. Would her mind fill in the gaps for her? “Who did this to you?”

He chuckled, catching her wrist to press a kiss to her open palm as she tried to run her fingers over the grooves. “Another male was interested in my territory. He tried to take my eye, I took his throat.”

“How very vicious of you,” she teased. “Are you half alligator, then?”

“Simply put, I suppose,” he said, the amusement in his gaze sharpening to something she didn’t recognize. It was almost desperation that stared back, a plea to know something she had only forgotten. Elain felt the strangest rush of deja vu, though it faded into the night before she could grasp it, a balloon whose string was just out of reach. 

“What are you? Can I ask that?”

“You can ask me anything you like,” he told her, his voice dropping an octave. Elain felt a rush of want as he waded further into the water, clearly unconcerned with the lurking danger. 

“I am…” he trailed off, clearly trying to find the words before he turned to look at her again. Elain was tracing the scales adorning his shoulders and neck like tattoos, trying to remember the last time she’d touched anything reptilian. “Old, I suppose.”

“How old?”

“Old,” he emphasized. 

“You don’t look old,” she said, half laughing at how predictable her daydreams were. 

“I age slowly,” he informed her solemnly. “You did once, too.” “Oh? Before what?”

Skimming his hand over the top of the opaque water, he said, “You’re my curse, now.”

“How do you break the curse?”

Those strange, reflective eyes found the same glassy water they were floating in. He didn’t say, but Elain knew because this was her dream, her fantasy, her imagination. “It’s love, isn’t it?”

He looked so hopeful as he met her gaze. “Yes,” he said hoarsely. 

It was a dream. “You seem like you’d be extremely easy to love.”

Pressing his forehead against her own, Lucien exhaled softly. “Let me show you.”

Lucien brought them to the opposite end of the swamp, unconcerned with his nakedness or the fact that she was openly staring at him. Well, not at him so much as what was slowly rising between his legs—two appendages, one longer than the other by a good inch. Elain didn’t need him to explain how they worked, though she was curious as to the point. Surely, from an evolutionary standpoint, one was enough? 

Taking his hand, Elain let him lift her from the water, well aware he was just as fascinated by her form which was no longer hidden given the way her nightdress clung to her body. 

“What are you going to show me?”

Lucien didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed her by the back of the neck and kissed her, sharp teeth grazing her bottom lip. Elain let him, reflecting that even though this man was a monstrous figment of her imagination, it had been a while since someone kissed her like they meant it. Like they wanted her. Maybe, she thought, this was some kind of weird metaphor. The only man who could ever love her was a monster, after all—just like Graysen.

Or maybe she was the monster.

After all, she was the murderer. Lucien was just a man she’d seen in the swamp that would one day testify at her trial while she remembered how they’d had sex in a dream. Elain kissed him back, surprised to find he tasted warm and sweet—like a warm, summer day. This was the type of dream she liked—the sort where she could feel pleasure without the endless guilt that seemed to fill her. 

She could taste blood in her mouth, slipping back into her throat as his tongue chased after it, kissing her with a frenzied hunger that Elain wished was real. The trick was not waking up before she came—Elain had never quite mastered that 

She knew it was a dream for sure when he lifted her nightdress, swatting her hand when she tried to touch his bare skin. 

“Just you,” he breathed, scales glinting in the moonlight. No man would ever, she decided as Lucien ran his own hands down her now naked form. It was almost like touching herself, forcing an awareness of her body that Elain rarely had. She didn’t pay attention to how it felt when someone's fingers teased her breasts or the way cool skin felt against her own. Or, she hadn’t in so long she’d forgotten what true pleasure could be like and he hadn’t really done anything. 

“What do you like?” he asked through a heavy breath of humid air. 

“I…” Elain was suddenly too embarrassed to tell him. Everything felt real—Lucien sank to muscular knees, his thick tail curling around the pair of them.

“Do you like this?” he asked in a husky voice as his forked tongue traced shapes against her upper thigh. To keep balance, Elain slid her fingers into his thick, silken hair. 

“Yes,” she admitted while he lifted her leg up off the ground, hooking it over his broad shoulder. Little ridges adorned his spine, flexible when her toe brushed up against one. Elain was fascinated with his form—more man than creature, but not human at all. She might have demanded an answer had that tongue of his not licked up the length of her.

Elain nearly toppled over, but Lucien wrapped a strong arm around her waist, pulling her closer while cupping her ass in one of his large, strong hands. He groaned with pleasure, the sound drowning out the screaming, watchful cicadas in the background.

“And this?” he demanded, licking again.

“Yes,” she breathed, head thrown back so she could look up at the stars. If she’s been more articulate, she would have told him that she liked it too much, and Gray had never wanted to do it. It took too long, he’d complained which of course only made it take longer. Elain was so self conscious every time he did go down that she never finished and often just counted to two hundred, faked it, and let him move on. 

“I need to taste you,” Lucien informed her, pulling her so close against him she wasn’t convinced he could breathe. She would have told him he was already tasting her if she’d been braver and less afraid that at any moment she was going to wake up and realize the whole thing was just a really weird, yet really good dream. 

Because it was her dream, Elain didn’t have to worry she was taking too long. In fact, Elain wanted to drag her pleasure out. His tongue was just rough enough to provide the smallest amount of friction while his mouth was otherwise soft and warm. Perfect, she decided with a sigh. 

She wanted to spread herself out. Maybe Lucien knew it, or maybe the ground merely hurt his knees. All she knew for certain was in the span it took to draw breath, Lucien was on his back and she was straddling his face, staring down the length of his rigid, muscular body. She wanted to touch him and so she did, spreading her legs as wide as she could get away with so she could lean against him.

Lucien moaned when she pressed a kiss against his stomach. Distracted, she half forgot what he was doing with his mouth. It was just…well, two cocks were endlessly fascinating to her. Why? What was the point? Elain reached between his legs and took the thicker, larger one in her hand. It was ridged, she realized with wild desperation. What would it feel like? Would her mind even know? Was she imagining this because she’d been shopping for vibrators a month earlier and stumbled upon some truly strange looking dildos? 

“Fuck,” Lucien panted, inclining his head away from her swollen pussy to look at her. “You don’t—it’s fine, just…just come here—”

Lucien put his mouth back on her with a vengeance, determined to distract her so thoroughly she couldn’t pleasure him, too. It was a game now, trying to get him off even as waves of pleasure began to build in her chest, threatening to drown her at any moment. Had anything felt better? 

Lucien writhed beneath her, prompting Elain to reach around for the second one and grip it, too. He gasped, breath warm against her throbbing cunt, before returning to licking circles around her clit. 

They came within seconds of each other—though Elain didn’t get to see any of it. Body throbbing, the sound of thunder crashing pulled her from her dream, body still roiling from her orgasm.

“Christ alive,” Elain swore softly, pushing the blankets from her body to close the balcony doors again. She knew she’d locked them before bed, had pulled the handles to be sure they were firmly locked.

Water was pooled on the floor again, her bare feet splashing in puddles as she made her way back to the ensuite bathroom. All Elain could think about was the man—the stranger she couldn’t stop dreaming about and his strange, inhuman features.

She’d nearly forgotten why she was dreaming about him. It was only after Elain had cleaned everything up did she recall that oh, right. She’d killed her husband and her brain was apparently trying to decode this information in the form of giving a strange swamp man two penises. 

Elain was going insane. Seeing things that weren’t there, manifesting her own downfall. Was this what if felt like to be haunted? Only, there were no ghosts—only her own guilt tormenting her while she slept. 

Elain shoved a chair against the balcony doors before she went back to bed, forced to lay on the opposite end because the mattress felt wet, too. Sweat, surely.. And the swamp man didn’t return, though when she woke the chair was back in its original place beside the window and the doors were open again. Outside, the world had gone red, the sky tinged with blood. Elain felt as though she’d manifested it herself, though that was pure arrogance to think she had any affect on the weather. 

Her phone was screaming at her to get out, pinging emergency instructions from the resort on where to go when the hurricane made landfall. Elain planted herself in her bedroom determined to see this lie through. It was the kind of thing Gray would do, besides—he never too much stock in the hysterics, as he called it. 

And she was so pathetic that she would have sat beside him and waited to die. Elain told herself she’d be fine, even as fear skittered up her spine. Sirens blared just outside and when she stepped toward the window, Elain could see the storm on the horizon. She took a breath, intending to go sit back in bed and try and read her book. Elain would have, too, had she not seen him coming out the sea itself, eyes trained on her bedroom window. He was merely a dot, a doll walking so far below her Elain was positive he couldn’t see her. 

And yet she knew he could. Wind whipped around him, blowing his hair this way and that though he didn’t seem bothered by it. Elain watched, mouth half open, as a palm tree was shoved violently to the ground as though a giant hand had pushed it there. But the man didn’t budge, kept walking as though it were a perfectly normal day.

Oh god.

Elain rushed to the door, locking it before making her way out of her bedroom. Where was she going to go? She turned, standing in the living area, eyes trained on the beach. The man was gone and for a moment, Elain consoled herself that she was just crazy. He didn’t exist, her mind had merely snapped and when this was all over, she’d check herself into an asylum. 

Elain looked away for a moment, turning toward the little kitchenette she hadn’t used. “You’re okay—” The glass shattered, sending Elain flying to the floor, arms thrown over her head to avoid getting hit by debris. Unable to hear her own thoughts over the wind, Elain tried to recall what she should do in the middle of a hurricane.

Cool fingers curled around her upper arm, hoisting her up into the air. Elain turned her head, horrified to find herself cradled against the half naked skin of the strangely scaled man. “You,” she accused, certain all this was his doing.

His smile was grim, eyes wide and round. He looked scared. “Me,” he murmured, his deep voice cutting through the noise. “It’s time to go home.”

“I’m not going—” the wind screamed as water pelted the pair of them, stinging her skin with each new assault. He didn’t seem concerned at all, ignoring the glass crunching underneath them as he walked her toward the bedroom. 

“We’re going to die—”

“You’re going to remember,” Lucien interrupted, tail swishing angrily behind him. He looked catlike in the stormy dark, eyes glowing like sunlight cutting through shadow. 

“You’re not real,” she breathed as he ripped her night dress in half. He certainly felt real.

“You know me,” he breathed, staring down at her. “You love me.”

“You’re a monster,” she replied.

Lucien grinned, betraying two rows of sharp teeth. “I’ll show you a monster.”

She tried to push him away but Lucien knew better. Knew he could have her if he wanted her—had already touched her, tasted her. Her protests were weak, silenced the moment his mouth was back on hers. He was real—they were real. She almost forgot about the screaming wind rattling the windows and pushing glass around the living area. 

“You brought me an offering,” Lucien panted, hitching her leg up around his now bare waist. When had he taken off his pants? “Tell me you love me.”

“What offering—”

“The body. Your husband,” he spat, eyes darkening at the memory. “Tell me you love me.”

“I hate you,” she replied as he wrapped both hands around her bare thighs and wrenched them open.

“Wrong answer,” he replied. Elain kicked at his chest as Lucien lined himself up not just with her pussy, but her ass, too. 

Their eyes met. “Does this feel real, now?” he whispered, inching himself forward just enough to punch the lungs from her breath. “You know me.”

“I don’t,” she replied as something metallic lodged itself in her nose. The world was ending in an explosion of air and water and yet a strange bubble seemed to exist around them. Words, just on the tip of her tongue, if only she could remember them, begged to be released. To finish a spell long since cast.

Lucien waited for a heartbeat, his hope etched over his features. When Elain said nothing, Lucien pressed himself closer to her, cocks intruding on her body like an old, familiar friend. Elain swore she’d never felt anything like it and yet her body stretched on instinct to accommodate him. Even when Elain wriggled, trying to create some resistance, her body simply allowed him to slide easily inside.

“Why two?” she panted, gritting her teeth to adjust to the feeling of being stretched to capacity. 

“I can’t impregnate my mate if she doesn’t feel pleasure,” he replied breathlessly. His hair fell like a sunlit curtain between them, his eyes bright and earnest.

“Lucien,” she breathed, nails cutting against his biceps. It’s you, it’s you, it’s you—but who are you?

“Yes,” he managed, pulling himself out of the sticky wet that was her body. Spitting in his hand, Lucien lubricated his shaft now halfway buried in her ass before he thrust himself back in and

Elain was forced to admit that it all felt good. Her back arched of its own accord, eyes rolling upward in her skull. The ridges lining his cock made each new thrust sharper, the pleasure brighter. 

“Our bond goes beyond marriage,” Lucien told her as colors filled her vision. “What we have is stronger than love.” His fingers stroked between her legs, rubbing tight circles around her clit until Elain was panting and writhing. She was going to come right alongside the hurricane bearing her name and then what? The windows would give way and the world would one day know of the woman who died because she decided fucking was more important than evacuating.

She didn’t care. Elain pulled him closer, running her hand over the flexible spines running the length of his back until she found the tail protruding just above the swell of his ass. 

“Please,” she begged, wrapping her legs around his waist. Lucien whined in response, sweat dripping down his forehead as he ran his nose along her own.

“I can’t stop,” he told her, pressing a kiss along the corner of her mouth. “If you don’t say it, we start all over.”

“I love you,” she said, half meaning it. What did hurt, she decided? He was so obviously insane and maybe so was she, because she was still fucking him, wasn’t she? Maybe this was what she deserved. 

Lucien’s pace quickened and with each new thrust a new memory came flooding through her awareness. A cottage on the edge of a swap, a cauldron filled with bubbling liquid. A male half hidden in the water, gold tinged eyes looking for predators as his red hair fanned out behind him.

Amarantha.

Her horrible bargain.

Elains vision.

“Lucien,” she said, fisting his hair so he had to look back at him. He recognized her words, the look on her face.

“You’re back,” he whispered, still thrusting into her though his rhythm slipped into wild, animalistic thrusting. 

“You feel exactly as I remember,” she told him, dragging her nails down his back. “What took you so long?”

“Let a man wallow for a century or two,” Lucien replied, kissing her again. “Come for me. Now.”

She did, though not because he told her to— because she was already desperate and close and Lucien was pushing every button she had. Elain tightened around him as Lucien babbled unintelligibly about how wet and tight she was. Some things, she supposed, would never change. The world would.

But not them. Never them.

Lucien came loudly, roaring over the wind she’d forgotten about. Was there a hurricane? Had she been afraid of it? That seemed almost laughable to her now. Turning her head as Lucien buried his own in the crook of her neck, Elain stared out the window coated in violet raindrops. 

For a moment, the storm was the only sound between them. 

“You borrowed my magic,” Elain accused once his breathing steadied. She could feel his come leaking down her leg, slipping between the spaces his cocks occupied.

“You didn’t know how to use it,” Lucien replied with a sheepish grin. 

Elain poked him in the ribs. “Is she dead?”

“Not yet,” he told her, gaze darkening. “Feyre drove her out a century before.”

“Let's finish it, then.”

“In time,” Lucien promised, withdrawing himself so he could offer her his hand. “Home, first.”

Elain grinned. “Home, then.”

#happy friday #elucien #vangator time

[v--143]

maybe a lee! minho and ler! chan (my fav pairing tbh😭) where chan is trying to find lee know’s spots like from least ticklish to most??

feel free to ignore this if it’s too complicated or u js don’t want to write it!!💖

> Doctors Appointment <

[Lee! Lee Know]

[Ler! Bangchan]

———————————————————————————

“There’s just no way you’re touching me with that goofy outfit on” Lee Know greeted me kindly as I walked into the patient room.

“Hello Mr. Lee Minho,” I said as I looked down at my clipboard, “today I’ve c-“

“Oh stohop Hyung” Lee Know burst out laughing and threw his head back. He was sat on a patient seat, which was almost like a massage chair. Arms sitting comfortably on the arm rests, legs laid out in front of him, and his head (currently) thrown back as he laughs at my doctor’s outfit and clipboard.

“You know I have to do this for my resume! It clearly states I must give a patient some form of a checkup or look over to be considered more highly!” I said while whining. I wasn’t lying, he was the only person to trust me enough to do this. Slightly shocking, but not unexpected. I never explained what I’d be doing, only that I needed an hour, a soundproof room, and a patient to conduct a sensitivity experiment. Lee Know’s curiosity got the best of him, so he accepted my request. Now we’re here.. and he has no idea why.

“So” Lee Know said, finally stopping his laughter, “what are you even gonna do to me doctor” he chuckled, crossing his arms.

“You’ll see” I said. His face contorted a bit as he nervously smiled. I just promised him he wouldn’t get hurt and he gave me a look.

“I mean I’d hope I wouldn’t get hurt?! But what is it that you’ll actually be-”

I cut him off as I strapped one of his wrists to the armrest.

“Wha? Hyung, what are you-”

“Hand me your other arm Lino”

“No! Why!!” He yelled through nervous laughter, “if you’re not gonna hurt me there would be no reason for me to be moving a lot!”

“Wrong” I said, followed by a buzzer sound and a click of the second wrist strap into place. He immediately began struggling against them as he realized they were much stronger than he anticipated.

“Chan.”

“Mhm?” I said as I pushed a button to make the chair lay flat.

“Chan.”

“Yesss Lee Know?” He was laid flat now.

“Chan!”

“What?” I bent down to grab the two other straps for his ankles. After some struggling and complaining from him, I got them down.

“You’d think that since you offered to help me with this, you wouldn’t be such a pain in the ass to tie down!” I said.

“I didn’t know I’d be tied down asshole!” He said, struggling against the restrains.

“You didn’t ask”

“Fuck you” he whispered (lovingly).

“What was that?” I teased as I grabbed another buckle strap beside his hip to keep him from bucking too hard. He decided to be difficult and thrusted his hips in the air, not allowing me to buckle the strap. Naturally, I began to tickle his side until he dropped and I strapped him up.

“Hyuhung you’re scaring me! Why the restrains? Why so ominous!? Why- mmhmph!” His voice turned into mumbled gibberish as I shoved a little towel in there. I did it as a joke, but Lino being Lino decided to be stubborn and keep it in his mouth by biting on it every time I tried to take it out. Fine then.

I spidered my fingers up and down his torso as I watched his face contort into betrayed shock.

“Mmhmph! MhmhmhmMM!! MPHHMnm!!”

“Thought you wanted the towel in there?” I teased.

Lee Know threw his head back to the best of his ability as his stomach kept contracting to try and make the sensations stop. I eventually did as he regained his breathing.

“We’ll mark… a 7/10 for that spot” I said as I took the towel out his mouth and threw it away.

“You.. hah.. you WHAT?”

Lino’s eyes widened as he saw me holding a clipboard that showed several different body parts labeled on it. He also saw as I marked “7/10” on the “Lower Stomach” portion of the paper.

“Oh no, no no no no”

“You agreed to thiss~”

“Yohou’re joking right?” He said without being able to hide his nervous, or, excited smile? I couldn’t tell, maybe both.

“Nope. Cat is your safe word, scream it if you need me to stop, okay?” I said.

He laid there just staring at me as I hovered over his body.

“Ooookay, let’s actually get started now”

“NO! Nonohoho plehehehease!!” Lino begged as his hands turned to fists, “Why mEHE!” He giggle-screamed.

“Well.. it’s always you teasing and messing with the members, rarely the other way around. I just had to hear your tickle laugh, and you agreed to this on your own. Hah!” I laughed.

“You don’t even know if I’m t- if I’m gonna react to that like you want me to anyway” he said, red in the face.

“We’ll see.”

“Wait please please pleasepleasepleaseplease-“

“You have your safe word for a reason, you can just say it and we can stop for a bit” I said.

He paused.

“So I can just say it whenever? Whenever I want you to stop..?” Lino asked.

“Of course. Even before we start” I said. I wasn’t lying, he could say it now, but…

…

I waited.

Not one word out his mouth, only redness on his cheeks.

“…Okay” I smiled.

I walked over to his torso again and, with my tight blue doctors gloves on, began to poke and prod at his right ribcage as if I were examining it.

He began to angle his body away from my hand immediately as I got closer. Need to try out ghost tickle testing one day…

“I didn’t know there can be people born with with a different number of ribcage bones! Did you, Lee Know?” I asked.

“…hello?” I asked again. He seemed a little too busy to answer me as he had his head fully turned to his right, mouth clamped shut, and eyes held shut by sheer force.

“Okay so let’s see you have one-“

“K-kahamhmnm~”

“Stop snickering, this is science. One~” I wiggled my finger in the crevice up and down, “Two~” and again, “Thr~”

“NeahAHAHAHA” he suddenly screamed, shocking me.

“So is just the third one bad? Or all??”

“SHUHUT UP! PleheHEASE NO-“

I dug my knuckles into that third crevice and vibrated them as lightly yet teasingly as I could. Lee Know writhed on the examination table as if I was truly electrocuting him, except he wasn’t only screaming.

“AHAHAHAHAH!!” His laughter that followed his screaming never failed to make me coo at him. He never openly laughed this much, it was almost refreshing to hear, not to mention his crazy desperation to get out of the restraints (even though he knows he has a safe word…).

“You’re acting like I’m actually hurting you!!” I said.

“YAHAH YOHOU MIGHT AS WEHELL BE- AHA!!!!” I latched both hands onto one of his ribcages and squeezed up and down, causing him to angle his body completely to the opposite side. His quick realization that he literally cannot go anywhere without my help made his face contort into something like nervous childish excitement.

I decided to move on after marking ribcages a whopping 9. I couldn’t tire him out too much in one sitting, but I did have to get at least one more body part down.

“Okay.. I’ll let you pick” I said to him.

“Yhaha..” he was still out of breath. Seeing as he has his eyes shut and his chest heaving hard, yet still holds a smile… I think he’s fine.

“Awwwwweeee you’re soooo not the second oldest when you laugh”

“Whahat’s that supposed to mean!! I’m literally beheing held against my wihihihill!!!” Lino complained.

I just rolled my eyes. “You have two options. One, neck. Two, underar-“

“NECK. NECK PLEHEASE” he yelled at me in desperation. While he may keep his guard up often, it’s well known he’s way too ticklish under his arms for him to survive more than 10 seconds there.

“Hmm I guess since you want me to sooo badly” I teased as I began to walk around the chair/table he laid down on.

“This is so stupid this is soho so stupid I’m such an idiot why why why” Lino whispered (dramatically) as he shut his eyes and mouth tightly.

“Oh you’re gonna be fine calm down” I said as I got out some of those fluffy pipe cleaners from a nearby cabinet, but not before putting a blindfold over his eyes.

“Is this necessary” Lino complained.

“It says that if the patient does not see the stimulator coming, then it’ll make it more sensitive! I guess we’ll see how you react” I said.

He clamped his mouth again as it gradually grew into a smile.

I took one pipe cleaner in each hand and began to slowly trail it along the sides of his neck. He scrunched up a lot very fast, but wasn’t making any audible noise yet.

“Lots of movement… little sound… okay, how about this?”

I began to poke and graze the inside and outside of his ears with them.

“Eeaaahah!” Lino squealed high and long as I did this. His legs also began to do little kicks at the end of the chair.

“Awwww!!” It was one of the cutest things I’ve seen.

“Stohop! Eeeaahaheha!!” He couldn’t help but scrunch up even more as I began to trail my fingers too. He never got to a point of physical desperation or harsh bucking, but he did move his head violently at times because the sensations were so light. Luckily I had given him soft restraints and a comfortable chair to do this on, or else his neck would be done for.

“Ple.. plehehease.!!!” Lino begged as I tickled his nape and the spot where his neck and shoulder meet, “noahaheheAHAHA!!” The volume of his laughter raised an octave as I got faster and faster, eventually dropping to silent once the light teasing had been too much.

“Okay okay I’m done for now.”

“Geahah..~”

I began to put my things away as Lee Know stayed restrained on the chair/table, not seeming to care too much that he couldn’t move now. He stared at the ceiling with a big smile on his blushing face.

“You didn’t even use your safeword, idiot” I said (lovingly of course), “did you even remember it?!”

He smiled at me.

“Cat”

———————————————————————————

#tword community #tword post #tword blog #sfw twords #tword skz #skz tickle #kpop tickle #stray kids #sfw tickling community #tickle scenarios #lee lee know #lee Minho #ler bangchan #tickle fluff #tickle fic #tickle community

[bantaro-bird]

Clearing out old posts in my project folder. I have a stack of lore doodles for my dream monster doll AU.

Picking up right where the first post left off, after Sapnap rescues Dream, he tries to tell Skeppy and BBH about him, but they don't believe him. It's just Sapnap's doll that he carries everywhere.

Not knowing where the monster went, thinking it could maybe even be invisible, BBH and Skeppy are really worried about Sapnap's safety. Until the thing turns up again and they can get rid of it properly, BBH brings Sapnap to sleep in his room.

Dream can disguise as a doll, but he's still a living creature that needs to eat, so when Sapnap bring him to bed, he has to sneak out without waking up BBH.

He wakes up Sapnap, who is not too keen on staying in bed.

Dream knows Sapnap isn't supposed to be up this late and, despite his struggling, takes him back to bed.

But Sapnap makes a lot of noise during this, which wakes up BBH and alerts him to the fact that Sapnap is missing from his bed. Skeppy was awoken by the noises too and they both go to investigate the source of it. They find Dream carrying Sapnap and immediately start trying to figure out how to rescue Sapnap. Skeppy hits him as hard as he can with a wooden baseball bat, but the bat just breaks and Dream in unphased. Before they can think of anything else, Dream just approached BBH and gently offers Sapnap to him.

He then returns to his toy form.

So Skeppy and BBH are finally putting together that the toy and the monster really are the same, and maybe the monster is Sapnap's friend after all. But it's still clearly a REALLY dangerous creature and they don't know if they can trust it.

For now, BBH declares a truce between them and Dream on the condition that Dream sleep alone in Sapnap's room tonight so they can all get some sleep and talk about this situation properly in the morning.

Dream agrees to these conditions.

In the morning, Sapnap comes running excitedly to wake Dream, who is extremely groggy and still pretty hungry.

Dream turns into his toy form so Sapnap has to carry him to the kitchen.

At breakfast, while Dream and Sapnap are really excited they don't have to keep their secret anymore, Skeppy and BBH still really don't know how to feel about all this.

The only drawing I have concerning the family meeting is this one about Dream's lack of table manners.

And then I have one last drawing where Dream learns about Sapnap's fire powers for the first time. It was from a later segment where BBH gives Sapnap some trash and tells him to take care of it. Dream follows Sapnap into this mysterious metal shed where the walls and floor are covered in soot. Dream is extremely uneasy. He thinks Sapnap is going to be irresponsibly playing with fire so he keeps trying to stop him. In the process Sapnap accidentally gets a papercut, and then deals with it by summoning a flame to cauterize the wound. Dream is eventually properly informed that Sapnap is a fireborn and that BBH and Skeppy regularly give him burnables to take to the shed to practice controlling his powers.

#ban talks #bans art #dream monster doll au #dream #sapnap #skeppy #badboyhalo

[moodyseal]

Okay we have considered the concept of Apollo getting a CHB bead once he becomes a god again but what if it doesn't stop there. What if year after year the campers keep giving him beads and he keeps adding them to his necklace until there comes a point where he looks like this

#maybe they give it to him as some form of offering? #and he wears them all. every single one of them #so whenever he steps into a room there's a *cling cling cling* from the beads hitting each other announcing his presence #like a cat with a bell #trials of apollo #toa #apollo #lester papadopoulos #pjo #percy jackson #lonely thoughts #chiron: don't you think that's too much #apollo with 50 years worth of beads on his arms and neck: 🧍🏻‍♀️

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Sorry for not having a Year of the Dragon MDZS artwork; Unfortunately, I can only picture Dragon LWJ in this particular flavour.

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #lan wangji #wei wuxian #Dragon AU #MDZS AU #noodleji #(IT'S A REAL TAG!!! AAH!!! THROWING MY HAT TO THE LITTLE GUY LOVERS!) #Yes I watched Fruits Basket in my teen years and yes it left a significant impression on me. #'The Dragon Transforms' and its just into a small little guy. #Even more points if the human form is a Tall Guy. #Sadly this does not appear to be a common nor popular variation so I will sit on my little hill alone. (EDIT: I WAS WRONG) #Dragon LWJ probably would be some kind of river dragon. Lesser god of a small stream. #One that grows bigger with time but always has the reputation of being benevolent and calm to those who seek its clear waters. #Do not pollute these waters or your ass is going to be bit. 1000 tiny puncture marks. #I imagine that's probably how wwx first meets him (accidently pours booze into lwj's river) (gets bit - gets bit - gets bit-) #WWX eventually befriends him through stubbornly showing up every week to give him offerings. #Takes him into town in a little pot of water to show him how the people live. Maybe go to a festival. #When the day is done and he's back in his river and alone - LWJ finally feels a new emotion...it is longing and loneliness.

[kitkatscabinet]

Don't feed him he'll come back

simon riley x neighbour! reader

summary: The ghost that lives in your apartment is a solitary man, people tend to stay out of his way, giving him a wide berth. You can't help but think he seems a little bit lonely, cue pestering him with bad jokes and food.

word count: 1.6k

part 2 here

There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment block. Though it feels more accurate to say he’s an occasional visitor. He comes and goes, like a lost spirit, unsure and aimlessly wandering. He slinks silently through the hallways like a wraith in the few instances when he is there. 

The first time you see him is just a glimpse from the corner of your eye, a large hulking shadow standing at the door next to your apartment as you step out from yours. 

Your feet stutter to a stop, the landlord had mentioned a neighbour but in the 3 months you’d lived there you’d never seen him. As if sensing your eyes lingering curiously on his form, deep brown eyes turn to meet yours. You can make out no other details of his face, the black material of his balaclava obscuring most of his features. 

A century could have passed in those few seconds and you doubt you’d have noticed. Despite the weariness in his gaze, you found yourself pulled into the deep pools of those stunning eyes. Like a predator, his gaze never moves from your body, even as you offer him a friendly smile and wave before walking down the hall to continue your day. 

You’d heard the uneasily whispered tales of the Ghost that haunted the apartment next to yours from some of the older tenants, though you’d never put much stock into the idle gossip. His burning gaze bores into your back and follows until the doors of the elevator close and you suppose you should feel intimidated. 

It’s hard to conjure up any such feelings, even with the knowledge of the wariness he elicits in others. It’s hard to fear the hulking figure of the Ghost when he had such sad eyes. 

He hid it well but you recognised the loneliness that lined his shoulders, the bone-deep exhaustion for life that managed to slip through tiny cracks in his self-imposed shield. 

You suppose at that moment that even Ghosts can be haunted. 

Maybe that’s why you found yourself knocking on his door later that evening with the tray of pasta bake. Initially, you’d made a large batch to have a few days left over for yourself. Yet just as you opened your fridge you’d hesitated, mind flashing to the man next door. Did he have any food for himself? There was likely nothing fresh, and he’d seemed too exhausted to pull himself to the grocery store during the brief encounter earlier. 

Donning your Crocs, you’d marched over and knocked on his door before it properly registered that you were in pyjamas. The door swings open and your eyes trail up, the balaclava is gone, replaced with a simple black face mask letting you glimpse blond hair. 

“Sorry if this is a bit intrusive, but I figured you probably didn’t have any food so…” you trailed off, pushing the tray towards him, expectantly waiting for him to grab it. It took a few seconds before he robotically took the tray, probably out of sheer confusion more than anything else. Stepping back before he could return the food you offered one last smile before fleeing to the sanctuary of your apartment. 

Two days later you exit your apartment to an empty and cleaned tray, a small note with a simple ‘thank you’ placed within. 

His name’s Simon, and apart from an introduction and the occasional dish left at his door, you don’t actually interact with him again until nearly a month later. And that had simply been a case of forced proximity a la broken elevator style. 

Simon remained unflappable as ever, and it’s at that moment you decide to try and get a reaction that isn’t stoic silence. 

“A bear walks into a bar and says give me a whiskey and …cola” Brown eyes turned to look at you curiously, brow raised to let you know he was listening. “Why the big pause? Asks the bartender. The bear shrugged. I’m not sure, I was born with them.” 

The joke doesn’t land, silence is the only reward for your comedy genius. “Ok, playing hardball. Alright then… Why did Susan fall off the swings?” Again, there is no answer, but a glance at his relaxed posture indicates he’s listening. “Because she had no arms.” 

No laugh but you blaze ahead. 

“Knock knock.” It takes a few seconds but with a playful glare, he responds quietly and with a tinge of amusement. 

“Who’s there?” It’s not the first time you’ve heard his voice, but it still births a serious case of butterflies in your gut that takes more than a few seconds to fight down and regain your composure. 

“Not Susan.” You can’t stop the peal of your giggles at that one, and while you swear you see the corner of his cheek curve upwards a little it’s not enough for you to be satisfied. 

“I can’t believe it’s come to this, but I guess it’s time for the big guns. You better prepare yourself Riley 'cause I’m done holding back.” You pause for a few seconds to let the anticipation settle. 

“What is… Whitney Houston’s favourite type of coordination?” You take a deep breath before positively belting out, “HAAAAAAAND-EEEEEYE.” Whether it’s the shock from the sudden musical number or the joke itself you’re finally rewarded with a faint chuckle. 

“Aha!” you shout in triumph, a smug grin splitting your face, “I heard that laugh, you can do more scowl!”

The doors suddenly open with a ding and Simon pushes off the wall, but not before rolling his eyes playfully your way. Silence once again descends during the walk to your respective apartments, yet it’s not uncomfortable. Swiping your key card it’s just as you step through the threshold that you hear it, 

“Why did the chicken go the seance? To get to the other side.” Whipping your head around, you are met with the sight of his door closing behind his large frame, but a win is a win and you celebrate mentally over the exchange. 

The next time you leave a dish at his door it comes with a written joke. Sure enough, a few days later you received one back. The months start to blur, and your Ghost comes and goes, but the jokes remain. 

Month three sees you snagging his number, a daily joke sent his way even when he can’t respond. Because as much as Simon Riley tried to hide his hurts from the world, he couldn’t hide them from you. 

You’ve loved a soldier before in your brother, can see the signs and smell the gunsmoke and blood from miles away. Apart from his team, it becomes obvious the man has nobody left, and believes he doesn’t deserve to be cared for.

You’re not foolish enough to think you can be that for him, but you are understanding enough to give him the choice. So you continue to send him jokes, puns, pictures of your cat Bingbong and anything that you think will get him to at least smile.  

Three months turns to six turns to eight. He’s not physically there most of the time but you take every opportunity he is to coax him from the loneliness of his apartment like a stray kitten.

Once-a-week dinners at least. Freely sharing your life’s story without expecting anything in return. One evening you’d plopped your chunky tuxedo cat down on his lap and watched him freeze, hands hovering with wide eyes as he considered the ball of fur making biscuits on his thigh. 

It was cute. He was cute. Even when he whipped around to glare when you took a photo, the corners of his lips downturned and tugged at the scars on his face. His bare face wasn’t necessarily a new sight but it causes your breath to hitch nonetheless. 

Something you think he notices given the way his lips quirked up suddenly in a smirk. Rolling your eyes you huffed before plonking yourself down next to him on the couch. Bingbong doesn’t scramble onto your lap like you expect, instead deciding to remain on his new favourite human, traitor. 

You pay very little attention to the movie even though you’d chosen it, too acutely focused on the large bulk of Simon next to you. Your shoulder rests against his arm, his body heat emanating from beneath his hoodie and absorbing into your skin. 

You’ve never been one to fall asleep during movies, but there’s something about Simon’s presence that soothes you, lulling you into a restful slumber as you slump against his chest. Bingbong meows his discontent as you accidentally squish him, jumping away with a huff, none of which you notice. 

It’s the sun shining straight onto your face through the open blinds that wakes you the next morning, a groan of confusion leaving your lips as you stretch and look around to orient yourself. 

Sitting up, the blanket that you just now realised covered your form fell down to your waist. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes your phone falls to the floor when you stand, the screen flicking on to display the time. 

It’s not until you sleepily stumble into your bedroom, plugging your nearly dead phone in and face-planting onto your pillow that you realise Simon must have tucked you in. The smile that covers your face is so wide it is painful and you fall asleep once more, dreaming of the phantom sensation of his arms wrapped around you.

#x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost cod

[smoft-demons]

MC needs some extra love

_______

You’re having an off day. Your demons have asked to make sure nothing’s actually wrong, just to be safe, but they’ve seen you like this a few times before. They understand. You’re just feeling down for no particular reason. Just sad and low energy. Extra tired.

Nothing happened, no one hurt you, nothing’s wrong… you just woke up in a low mood. Because it simply be like that sometimes. You just… need some extra affection today. No reason. It’s okay, they’re not judging. They’ll do what they can to cheer you up a little—they love you, you know. They want to see you smile at least once today.

_______

Lucifer:

When Lucifer notices your mood, he softens towards you a lot. He asks if anything is wrong first of course—they all do—but once he learns that there’s nothing he needs to correct and no one he needs to punish on your behalf, he just softens. He treats you more gently than usual.

He expects you’ll get fed up entertaining all his brothers, with their endless chaotic energy. So he invites you to hide out with him in his office. You are invited to just sit with him and read, or put on some music, or play a game on your DDD, or just rest… or whatever it is that will help.

He’ll even let you curl up in his lap and cuddle with him if that’s what you want. That cheers him up too.

He quietly redistributes the most taxing of your chores for today amongst the seven of them, to give you time to recharge.

You’ll find Levi and Beel doing the dishes for you when it’s your turn, or if you’re supposed to make dinner you’ll find that Mammon and Asmo have already ordered everyone takeout, and they’re already in the middle of setting it all out on the table. You won’t have to do a thing! If you were supposed to clean up a common space in the house, it’ll already be done by some of your assorted pact partners. You might even find sticky notes placed amongst your homework in Lucifer’s, Satan’s, and Belphie’s handwriting, suggesting edits and books titles to check for better information, and pointing out any parts in your work that are particularly well done.

When you check your DDD later, you see that Lucifer had instructed his brothers to take on what they can from you to make your life easier today. He was not planning on letting you know that, clearly—because he sent that in the brothers group chat. You only know because Karasu’s spy feature showed you.

His support is shown in all these soft, quiet details. Peaceful moments. Simple, but unmistakable reminders of how loved you are. It’s okay if you don’t smile today, even though he would like you too. He will verbally remind you that loves you anyway.

_______

Mammon:

Mammon’s first instinct, of course, is retail therapy. He offers to take you shopping. He’ll even pay for your stuff! He doesn’t mind if it makes you happy!

You appreciate that very much—and maybe you’d be happy to take him up on that if you were sad for a reason, but… you just have no spare energy. Just thinking about going out exhausts you more. You’d have to deal with looking at things! And forming opinions, and deciding on stuff to buy! There’s crowds and cashiers and bright lights and just… stuff outside! You can’t, you just can’t. You have no energy and you can’t.

The first time Mammon sees you like this, he’s confused. You don’t wanna go out? You don’t want any new stuff?? He sure hasn’t felt like that before!

He puts effort into figuring out what will actually help cheer you up instead. He’s considerate that way.

He tries taking you for a long drive. He tries taking tasks off your to-do list. He tries trailing after you all day to keep you company, holding your hand, chattering all day so you can’t hear your thoughts, staying quiet so you don’t get overstimulated. He cycles through every possible approach over the months, on every random day you happen to wake up like this.

It’s all greatly appreciated—and hey, some of his ideas work better than the rest! You feel loved and cared for regardless. It’s impossible to miss how much he adores you.

Eventually though, he strikes gold!

That particular day, he had been telling you a stupid joke every time he ran into you, in an attempt to make you smile. He gets a weak grin for his troubles just about halfway through the day. He beams at you triumphantly at that, impulsively scooping you up for a hug and repeatedly kissing the top of your head, and—aha! THERE’S the smile he was looking for!

From that point on, he knows what to do!

The next time you wake up in this mood, he takes the first opportunity to give you a playfully over the top show of affection. Over the course of the day, he keeps doing it!

He runs into you in the hallway between classes, he (gently) aggressively ruffles your hair as he passes you. He finds you aimlessly walking through the house, you immediately get snatched into his arms for a nice long squeeze. You sit with him as he’s scrolling through devilgram, he sets it aside for a moment to squish your cheeks between his hands and cover your forehead and nose with loud, playful kisses. You go up to him and request attention? You get kiss attacked, and he won’t let up until you crack a smile!

Your brain hurts, he says, echoing your very first explanation. It’s okay though, he says. He’ll kiss it better, he says.

He is MORE than happy to completely discard the tsundere façade to lean into this… over-the-top affectionate silliness, as long as it continues to make you laugh and smile like that.

He won’t admit it, but… this is more honest. This is much closer to who he is at heart than his usual behaviour is. Try as he might, he can’t hide how much he cares to save his life.

The realest aspect of Mammon is not the dumbass, not the money-grubber, not the uncaring cool guy that he pretends to be… no, it’s the goofy dork who loves you SO much that he’d go to any amount of effort to cheer you up.

He’s damn good at it too! HE was put in charge of your well-being for a reason! He’s the best big brother/guardian/friend/pact partner ever, and you’re his to take care of. He’s not letting HIS human go without smiling once for a whole day! You’re the sole member of his family he can openly dote on, and dammit, he will!

_______

Levi:

Levi’s go-to is, of course, distracting you with media. He tries games first, but if you’re too low-energy for that, he gets it. He tries anime, movies, shows, videos, manga, whatever you seem to respond best to.

You’ll notice a theme of letting others help, confiding in friends, opening up to people. There are repeated instances of characters asking for support from the rest of the cast and then being helped and taken care of. Lots of power of friendship stories, lots of hurt/comfort and “it’s rotten work” “not to me, not if it’s you” and team-as-family.

Maybe, just maaaybe, he’s trying to tell you something!

He relaxes when you explain that you just woke up like this, sometimes this just happens and it’s no one’s fault, there’s no problem, he doesn’t have to worry about you. He gets that! Sometimes he wakes up like that too. It does happen!

But… you’re his player two! He wants to worry about you!

So he takes care of you the way he wishes someone would take care of him when he gets like that. Gives you the extra love he knows first-hand that you need right now. He lets you choose the entertainment, he holds your hand, and mirrors what you do to self-soothe.

If you wanna lie on the floor and stare at his jellyfish decorations, he’s right next to you. If you wanna tell Henry how you’re feeling, he’s right there with you doing the same so you don’t have to feel self-conscious. If you’re stimming, he will too. That one makes him happy as well! If you wanna burrow into a pile of blankets and plushies like a hognose snake, he totally gets it and will also do that. He does that anyway sometimes, just because it’s comfy.

There’s not a hint of judgement from Levi. Ever. He gets it.

When you guys HAVE to leave his room, like for meals and such, he lends you his headphones. So you don’t get overstimulated from all the noise his brothers make. He never goes far from you, either. He always stays close enough that you can reach for him if you want to.

After dinner, when you’re tired and done with trying to act normal (not that even one of your demons is fooled), Levi brings you back to his room. He asks if you have any requests, anything you want to do, anything he can do to help you. If you know what you need, he’ll just do it. If you don’t, he’ll offer comfort in some form that makes sense to him. He understands that all you really need is some extra love when you’re like this, so he’s not at a loss. He gets it, he feels the same way sometimes, he can do that!

You end up curled up in his lap, hiding your face in his shoulder as he watches an anime you’ve both seen before at a low volume. Familiar and comforting. He’s happy to just sit and chill with you until you feel like you’ve recharged enough. He knows you’d do the same for him.

_______

Satan:

Satan’s instinct, once he learns what’s going on, is to bring you to the quiet spot outside where the stray cats he has befriended gather and then plonk the chillest one in your lap.

Cats are perfect fluffy little warm purring bundles of free therapy, after all. How could you not be recharged by this?

He’s not wrong, the cat definitely helps. It is in fact a perfect creature.

But… well, you don’t bother to spend the energy on saying so, but being outside isn’t really helping. You cringe at every loud noise. The wind ruffling your clothes every so often is annoying you. You’re sitting on concrete and it’s making you cold. The streetlights feel particularly aggressive to your eyes today. Very stabby. There are smells outside! No one wants that!

You love the cats, but Satan is giving them all his attention and you’re getting just a little bit jealous. You as well are giving the cat in your lap all your attention, and—as stupid as you feel about it—you’re getting a little bit jealous about that too. You want attention too! All the cat has to do is be cute and soft and it can have all the petting and cuddling it wants! As it deserves, yes, but… don’t you as well, though..?

You try to push that feeling away and just pet the cat. The cat did nothing wrong, you still love it, you’re supposed to be feeling MORE recharged from this! Not… whatever it is you do feel. At the end of the day you still enjoy petting the cat and you don’t want it to leave. That’s still true and that’s what matters, you tell yourself.

Eventually the cat decides it’s had enough petting for now, and gets up. Satan checks on you, fully expecting you to be thoroughly cheered up! Instead he sees you staring forlornly at your hands, mostly zoned out. Confused, he asks if you’re okay.

You nod once, giving him a hollow smile.

Now he’s concerned. He takes a minute to finish petting the cats surrounding him—noting the hint of jealousy in your eyes as you observe him—then comes to sit on the concrete stair next to you.

He gently points out that he knows you well enough to detect a lie. Especially an unconvincing lie like that. You give a noncommittal hum in reply. That’s all you have the energy for.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, letting you slump against his side. Your head leans against his shoulder. His other arm comes up to stroke your head for a moment, then drops down again to take your hand.

In a small, tired voice, you thank him. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze in reply.

Eventually he adjusts you so he can hold you more comfortably. Every so often he kisses the top of your head, or rubs your shoulder, or squeezes your hand, or says something quietly to you. Pointing out a interesting leaf shape, telling you something inconsequential about his day, prompting you to look when one of the cats does something cute, reminding you that he loves you and it’s okay to feel like this. That he enjoys your company no matter what mood you’re in.

This helps a lot more. Eventually you have enough energy to reply to him in full sentences! He’s visibly relieved at that. Still, he continues to hold you.

It’s after this point that a different cat comes up to you. It sniffs your shoelace then rubs itself against your leg. It flops over your shoe, stretching adorably with its little paws reaching up. It looks up at you all wide-eyed and cute, and finally you give a short puff of a laugh. Satan feels it more than hears it, but still!! He feels successful!

You pet this cat as it stands up and sniffs at your free hand. You look at it with a little smile. There’s a bit more soul in this smile, to Satan’s relief.

Later, as the two of you are leaving, he slips the cat a treat and whispers a thank you to it. Then he takes your hand again and leads you back home.

(He makes a mental note to himself for next time: pet the sad human first!! Then go see the cats!)

_______

Asmo:

Asmo notices that you’re having one of those days today, and he rushes to spoil you. Like Mammon, his first instinct is to take you shopping—but specifically for clothes and makeup and skincare products. Stuff that would cheer him up.

But you’re tired, and he understands that. It’s okay, he still knows what to do!

Asmo brings you into his room. You curl up in a sad, tired lump on his bed. He lets you chill there while he gathers up the stuff he wants.

He returns to you with his arms full of stuff! Nail polish, face masks, a hairbrush, moisturizer and hair oil, etc etc. Stuff for taking care of you.

He makes a point of only doing stuff that doesn’t sting at all. No plucking eyebrows or messing with your cuticles or anything like that. Just the stuff that feels nice.

Asmo quietly chatters about people he knows and stuff he’s used and whatever the latest gossip he’s heard is. Not even really to inform you this time, because he knows you’re probably not gonna remember much when you’re like this, but more to provide you with a constant, grounding backdrop of his familiar voice.

He speaks softly to you as he wipes your face with cleanser and then proceeds with his skincare process. He gently brushes your hair, spending twice as long as necessary just because it feels nice. He insists you don’t bother to move as he sits next to you and paints your nails.

At some point he runs out of stuff to do, so he ends up just brushing over your face with a clean makeup brush. No product on it at all, he’s just doing it to make you relax, because it’s soft and it feels nice. It’s meditative, honestly. For both of you.

He spends a good long while doing that.

He finishes up and lies down next to you. He pulls you into a cuddle. You offer to return the favour for him. Do his skincare and hair and nails and stuff for him, spoil him back—because he deserves the best.

For the first time ever, he declines. He shushes you and holds you tighter. This is the only situation in which he would ever refuse that!

He says you’re more than welcome to return the favour tomorrow if you like, but for now he just wants you to rest. He did all that for you to get you in this relaxed state you’re in right now, don’t get up and un-relax yourself so fast! Keep your brain turned off! It’s good for you sometimes!

… yes, Asmo is surprised by his own selflessness too—more surprised than you are by now, knowing him. He’s always been selfless for your sake since you first became his friend. It still surprises him though.

_______

Beel:

Beel is your best guy for validation. For quiet, thoughtful, unwavering support. He’s a lot more insightful than he’s often given credit for. He’s one of the best people in this family in terms of emotional intelligence, no question about it.

He knows just what to do. He observes you as the day goes on, taking the first opportunity to pull you aside and check on you without any others around. Just to make absolutely sure there’s nothing else going on.

His voice is soft, his hands are gentle, and he puts effort into understanding you. You’re family, he loves you so much! So of course he would.

He’ll share his food with you of course—both because he wants you to know that he loves you that much, and because he’s trying to remove a task from your to-do list. You don’t have to think about getting food and preparing it and any of that if he just. Does it for you. You can spend your very limited energy elsewhere.

He’ll take you with him on his routine walk, just so you can have a change of scenery and an opportunity to chat uninterrupted.

He listens to you complain about being outside with his characteristic placid sympathy—a combination that would be a bit contradictory if it came from anyone else, but somehow makes perfect sense for Beel. It’s soothing. Reassuring, somehow. He helps a lot, just by being himself.

When you inevitably run out of energy—much quicker than you usually do, but you expected that—he offers to carry you. Or rather, he automatically goes to do it on muscle memory, because that’s just what he does with tired loved ones (Belphie usually). He catches himself and realizes he should ask first in this case. Just to make sure. He’s considerate like that.

You are very tired… and you want contact. So of course you accept the offer. How could you refuse when he offers so earnestly?

He walks in measured, consistent steps as he carries you. The sway of his movement is deliberately relaxing. He’s trying to lull you into a meditative haze, or maybe put you to sleep. Either is good, he thinks.

The warmth of him makes the… everything about being outside when you’re feeling this way a lot more tolerable. The sounds of his footsteps, his breaths, his heartbeat… all of that drowns out the background noise just enough. Your face is pressed into his jacket, so the streetlights don’t stab your eyes and all the distressingly inconsistent outside smells are entirely covered by the spices-aromatics-soap scent of Beel. It’s a smell you know very well, and the familiarity of it is grounding.

Everything about him is grounding, really. He really did know exactly what to do.

At the end of the day… it’s okay if you don’t smile. He would like you to, of course, but he will meet you where you’re at. Anyway, it’s more important to him that you feel like it’s safe to show however it is you actually feel around him. He understands the amount of trust that takes, and he’s honoured by it. Nothing is more important to him than that trust.

So, you don’t have to smile. It’s okay.

Don’t be strong, he tells you. There’s no need, for now. Just let him. Rest, lean on his strength—he’s got more than enough for both of you. He’s got you. He’s not going anywhere.

_______

Belphie:

Oh, you’re tired? A bit sad, a bit grouchy? Damn. Looks like even HE has more energy than you today. That’s not something he sees often! Well, that’s fine. He knows what to do.

It’s straight to baby jail with you!

In his arms, that is. In bed, surrounded by his best pillows, covered by the least warm heavy blanket he has, so you won’t overheat but will still feel nice and covered.

He positions you so you’re facing each other, with your head tucked under his chin. So you have room to comfortably breathe and talk, but your face is still as covered as possible so you won’t be bothered by any lights.

Emotional intelligence may not be Belphie’s strong suit, but he is observant and he understands exhaustion. This may not exactly be the usual kind of exhaustion, but still! There’s no demon better equipped to understand what’s going on with you right now, just by nature.

He’s totally fine with cuddling you in silence if you don’t feel like talking. That really works for him, actually, because it allows him to nap.

Not that he doesn’t WANT to listen to you. He does. He’d be happy to. But he gets it if you don’t wanna bother with that. It’s okay.

He will, however, delay taking a nap until you doze off first. He just wants to make sure you’re okay. He’s not about to just fall asleep and abandon you if you still need attention.

If you’re not falling asleep very fast, he will help. Not with magic, surprisingly. He’s being more… gentle, he supposes, than that in this situation.

He talks quietly about nothing important. The soft drone of his voice, kept consistent and deliberately soporific, melts into your brain like butter, slowing it way down. Blocking everything else out. Gradually turning it off. One hand rubs your back slowly, almost as if to match the rhythm of his voice.

It’s so relaxing. You feel like you could stay like this forever and never want to move, you’re that comfortable.

Belphie knows what he’s doing.

It works really well! He makes sure you feel loved and cared for, then makes sure you get some extra rest. Mental and physical recharging.

Of course, you wake up feeling a lot better. Maybe not entirely back to your normal self yet, but definitely better. How could you not?

You’re a lot less tired after you’ve slept, and less sad too… so he’s succeeded—but you’re still not smiling!

He can fix that, right?

He lets you get up and stretch first, of course. He does the same. Before you leave the room though, he wraps you up in another hug.

He pulls back to examine your face after a minute or two.

Hmm… you look comfy, but still no smile! He can’t have that! So he hugs you tightly again, but this time his fingers start to lightly poke and brush over your sides. He’s trying to force you to smile by tickling you. He’s not gonna do too much, he’s not trying to overwhelm you. He stops as soon as you crack a smile.

There we go, he says as he gives you one last gentle squeeze. That was all he wanted, he tells you.

He doesn’t let go of you for long, over the rest of the day. Always holding your hand, giving you random hugs, draping himself over your shoulders—but without making you take all his weight for once, because he knows you’re still kinda tired. Enough of it to be soothing, but no more. Just so you don’t get lonely. He doesn’t want you to get all sad again.

If you do get sad again though, it’s okay. He will squish the sadness out of you all over again, as many times as you need. He doesn’t mind.

_______

#obey me #obey me! shall we date? #obey me headcanons #obey me platonic headcanons #obey me found family #obey me & reader #obey me x reader #obey me requests #obey me scenarios #obey me fic #obey me brothers #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me fluff #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #my writing #gender neutral mc #autistic mc #(implied) (because OP is autistic)

[cntloup]

M! M!

Gurl I-

Imagine

Farmer/Cowboy!Simon Reilly.

You move in to the cottage next door, and Simon owns lives on this huge ranch that’s in front of your medium sized cottage.

You’re all cottage core and he’s all big, rough and rugged.

And everyday you see his routine:

He tends to cattle’s, he rides horses 🤭🤭🤭

Man’s too hot.

And maybe he walks over and offers you some fresh butter and honey as a “Welcome to the area” gift.

And maybe….

He gives you another gift *wink wink* 👀👀👀

That’s it babes!!!

A sheer contrast between the two properties and their owners

One is adorned with vibrant flowers and lively warm colors while the other one is the embodiment of function over form. 

He's noticed you’ve been eyeing him while he works, muscles flexing and sweat dripping down his glistening skin under the brutal summer sunlight.  

But he doesn’t mind. He's been doing the same to you, watching as you daintily roam around your beautiful orchard in your pretty sundress, lovingly tending to the delicate plants and animals. 

And one day, he finally decides to approach you with a welcome gift, some fresh cheese and butter. 

You notice the look he gives you as he hands them to you, your own eyes matching his with the same glint, a burning desire, an instant natural connection between you. 

And you offer to give him a tour of your garden, and of course he accepts without hesitation. 

Your arms lightly touch and you lock your pinky fingers together as you walk along the trees drifting in the soft breeze, a shy smile dancing on your lips as he turns to look at you, his heart fluttering at your tenderness. 

You slowly lean in closer to him and his hand travels to your waist to pull you even closer, your sides pressed together, making your cheeks heat up and your smile reach your eyes. 

And you don’t know how you end up on his lap while he sings praises into your ear, letting you ride him as a welcome gift. 

Your sundress is rolled up around your waist, your cheeks flushed as your eyes land on the way your bodies connect. 

His rough hands grip the plush of your hips tightly as you roll them and bounce on top of him and you wrap your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder from the dizzying pleasure. 

“Good girl... come on... you gonna cum f’me?” he rasps out in between heavy groans and your soft whimpers, feeling the grasp of your walls tighten around him. 

And the all-consuming heavenly sensation engulfs you both as you cum together, his deep growl mixing with your breathy hiccupped moan. 

And his strong burly arms envelope you as your body trembles and goes limp in his embrace. 

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost riley #ghost simon riley #cod fanfic #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #mw2 #cod modern warfare

[tteokdoroki]

Thinking about the freshly corrupted priest Gojo pumping his dick in the confession booth while the sinful vixen sitting in the other cabin went from confessing her sins of corrupting one of the local fathers and having him cream down her throat to giving him instructions on how to handle his throbbing cock lovingly

Go faster now, father- squeeze the tip just a little bit...yes that's a good boy...now spit on it, make a mess of yourself and give everyone a show, all their eyes are peering down and up on you.

And with that, good morning aali my love <3

-glasses anon

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. confessional.

about. you confess your sins to father satoru, but with the lust bubbling between you both, things get a little carried away.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, sacrilege, religious imagery/references, guided masturbation, male masturbation, priest!gojo, fem!reader, wc: 1.6K.

what good is a priest who can’t follow his own teachings? one that succumbs to the slightest hint of femme fatale? 

gojo thought himself a strong man. a good one. but once again, he’d found himself drinking from the devil’s cup offered up by a lost little angel who has strayed away from her path to light. 

“and i really didn’t mean to. father toji— i mean fushiguro— seemed so stressed! like he needed a helping hand.” you whimper unevenly from your side of the confessional booth. guilt buzzes in satoru’s veins as he imagines you teary eyed and distraught on the other side of the wall. the mere idea of you crying sends pleasure and lustful hormones shooting through his bloodstream and right down to his erection — the tip flushing a shameful shade of bright red.

you continue relentlessly, each word a breathless whisper laid over the swell of your sinful lips.“s-so i offered some relief in the only way i know how. i let him use my body, let him use my throat. he said it was okay…” but i just feel so wrong for corrupting him like that under the watchful eye of the lord. is it wrong that i liked it, father ‘toru. having that man’s cum pour down my throat?”

you’ve strayed too far away from the light and you’re pulling him into the darkness with you. 

“f-fuck.” 

“is something wrong father toru, your voice sounds rather strained.” by the tone of your own, he can just tell that you have your head cocked to the side innocently. perhaps your lip is caught daringly between your teeth — eyes gleaming with mischief while you mask your amusement at the damage you’ve caused. the young priest’s dick throbs against his inner thigh, smearing white along his baby soft skin. satoru grabs at his girth, squeezing it as if to stave off the pleasure that he should be disgusted by. 

clearing his throat, gojo internally curses as the words stick to its ridges — almost as if he doesn’t believe what comes out of his own mouth next. “i-i’m fine. have you prayed? i’m sure he would forgive you for your sins.” 

“i’ve been on my knees every night.” you mumble through a pout that he can’t see — earning another hiss from the priest while his angry red cockhead starts to bleed more arousal, forming a dark stain that seep’s through the fabric of his black slacks. “if you don’t mind me asking… does it hurt, father toru?” 

“does what hurt?” he exhales slowly, pearly white lashes fluttering against the apples of his cheeks. gojo, against his better judgments, pops the button of his pants to provide some relief to his aching cock. it doesn’t help at all. 

“your cock. father fushiguro felt the same after i confessed what i’d done with father getou.” 

shit. “yes… it does.” 

“i maybe be able to help.” your voice somehow sounds closer — as if you’re in the booth with him. “can you touch it… touch yourself for me, please?”

when you ask him so sweetly, how can father satoru say no? he follows your instructions like a man charmed by a succubus from the deep depths of hell. his whole body shudders and his breath stutters when he finally takes his forth between his king and slender fingers, squeezing at the base as precum beads like a rare oyster’s pearl in the centre of his slit. 

this is so wrong. “holy…holy shit,” but it already feels so good. gojo hisses, chest heaving as he instinctively bucks into his closed fist. it’s warm, sends shockwaves of pleasure down his spine to build in his pelvis while each vein that wraps prettily around his cock pulses with a new wave of lust laden blood. “what should i…?” he coughs shakily, hips slowly beginning to fuck upwards to chase the feeling of his palm. “what should i do now?” 

“spit on it, father.” you command him gently, blessing him with your praise where the higher being above might condemn him. “get it nice and wet for me, like i would, okay? squeeze the tip when you do—“ 

father ‘toru easily follows your word as if it reads passages from the bible. carefully, he leans forward — letting hot, gooey trails of spit dribble over his blistering and bright cockchead. his entire body twitches at the new sensation, which is surprisingly cool in comparison to how hot his body feels. sweat tracks it’s way down his body, soiling his hood robes and freshly pressed clothes. it makes his pure white locks stick to his forehead, and gathers on his cupid’s bow and it really is all too much. 

he feels like hell on earth. 

there’s a dull thud that echoes from satoru’s side of the booth, his head knocking against the wooden walls when it falls back. in the same breath, a loud and borderline pornographic moan rips it’s way through satoru’s firm chest — it battles through his lips (caught between sets of perfect white teeth), and reverberates throughout the confessional booth, no doubt catching the attention of people passing by.

“ohmygod,” comes his pathetic whimper while he clenches around himself once again, throat bobbing as he swallows down his sinful sounds. “why does that feel so fucking good? g-god, please!”

satoru’s fall from grace makes a sick smile spread across your lips and you cock your head to the side. you can only imagine what he looks like if this is how he sounds, his clothes a sweaty mess, his eyes delirious and darkened with ungodly and immoral desire. all this while he begs for god, begs for forgiveness, begs for you.

“you’re doing so well for me, ‘toru. can you go a little faster for me? now that it’s nice and wet.” the way his name falls gently from your tongue is like thick honey running through satoru’s ears — you drag a veil of lust over his mind and once again he follows your orders. he pumps himself faster, harder, precum slinging over the edge of his knuckles as they turn as white as his hair from the grip he has on himself. 

he can’t help but let his mind stray and wander off into  damned territory — chasing the vision that his clouded mind creates for him. would your cunt feel as good as this? wrap around him as tightly? a stream of unfiltered and colourful curses pour from gojo’s mouth in a similar manner to the arousal from his mushroomed tip, dripping a searing hot trail down to his throbbing balls.

lewd squelches slip through the cracks of the confessional booth and filter right through to you. satoru has no idea how pleased you are to have ruined him, how much you’ve longed to hear him mewl and sigh from touching himself against the will of god. “you sound so messy, ‘toru,” you moan out just to mock him a little — listening out for his strained and strangled whines, gargling down the saliva that pools on his tongue. “think you can make an even bigger mess for me, father? one that everyone will see. those above….” you purr, the tail end of your words harmonising with gojo’s hiccups. “and those below.” 

satoru is no better than a sinner come to spill their truths to him. sitting there with his painfully hard dick in his hands, fisting it to oblivion as opaque white stains his hands and his fingers and his knuckles. there’s so much of it, so much lust and precum and he hasn’t even reached his peak yet. everything is so fucking hot, his dick slick between his sticky thighs and all-too-tight robes. 

“almost there, satoru. i need you to let go for me.” 

your goading voice through the thick oak wall pushes satoru’s hips to canter up higher and higher. he wants to please you so bad that it hurts and makes him cry. he whispers your name into the buzzing air like it’s a prayer, chanting it over and over again until it becomes the only word he knows.

“fuck… i can’t—“ gojo sighs airily, his thighs shuddering as the knots in his stomach begin to unravel. “christ… I feel like ‘m gonna burst!” angelic blue eyes roll deep back into the man’s skull, disappearing from the world to hide from the atrocities he’s committed. 

“then let go, let it all out. you’ve done so well.” you say sweetly over the sound of gojo languidly jacking himself off. one, two and three more pumps before he’s releasing thick white ropes of cum over his robe and his chest — seeping into his clothes. 

gojo’s so fucking dizzy, cumming so hard that he sees bright lights and swears that he’s landed at the gates of heaven — though he’s sure his actions today would stop him from getting in. there’s a ringing in his ear as he comes back down but all of his limbs feel heavy, he’s too weak to move. 

“f-father satoru?” you whisper innocently, as if your very voice didn’t lead the man to death. “i think our time is up.” 

“yeah?” he mumbles in response, the words slipping around on his tongue. “i think… you did good today. you’ll have to come back again next week, to make another confession.” 

if only he could see your sick little smile, one might have thought you were the devil. who knows what’ll happen if you’re alone together in a confined space. “if that’s what you need from me, father.” you giggle slyly. “see you next week.” 

“see you next week.” gojo repeats.

and just like that, you’ve dragged the poor priest into the corrupted depths of hell.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #angelshubnetwork #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification #ʚ glasses anon anon’ ɞ