#//Snapped him right awake in an INSTANT

[dutybcrne]

Diluc as a child was definitely rowdy ASF or the sleepiest lil bab, there was NO in between

[lymtw]

Thinking of Toji being pulled out of sleep because he hears you whimpering beside him in your sleep. Once he wakes up, he can't get back to resting until he figures out what's going on with you. Maybe you're having a bad dream. After all, you are clutching your pillow pretty tight...

He puts a hand on your shoulder, ready to shake you. That is until you let out a moan. There's a visible 'huh' on his face as he keeps watching you to make sure he didn't mishear. His heart drops to his stomach when you sigh, your hips languidly rolling against the blanket that is bundled between your legs. Now he knows for sure that he didn't mishear you.

He chuckles quietly, his hand going up to caress your face. "Doll," he whispers, gently brushing wisps of hair away from your face. You don't respond. You stopped moving, and presumably went back to sleep. The problem is, Toji's awake now. Yes, he loves you and would guard you for years while you slumber, but right now you got him all bricked up. He can't sleep like this, but also, what's more embarrassing than getting himself off when the prettiest princess is right next to him.

"Baby," he coos, scooting closer to you. He pushes the blanket out of the way so that he can put one of your legs over his hip.

"You okay, Toji?" You mumble, slowly opening your eyes.

"Course, doll, but you're dreaming pretty loudly." He grins, throwing an arm over your waist. "Wanna talk about it?"

"What are you talking about?" You groan, still sleepy.

"Did you cum?"

Your heart stops at the question, and though your body is still in its sleepy daze, Toji could feel the tension surface.

"Could hear you moaning and whimpering like someone was giving it to you good. Was it me?"

"Toji...," you whine. "Who else would it be? Can we go back to sleep, now?"

"Hold on. Just wanna know if you finished. You know I wouldn't leave you hanging." His hands snake under your shirt.

"I did...n't. But i'm more tired than horny, Toji. Don't worry about it."

"You won't have to do a thing. All you have to do... is lay there... and look pretty for me." His lips ghost yours as his fingers snap the strap of your bra against your skin. "How's that sound, hm? Want me to ease you back into sleep?"

You can see the trace of a grin on his face. His eyes look so dark, and this rattles something deep in your core.

"Fine. Just... not too rough, please."

"Yes, ma'am," he says, trying to hold back the full wolfy grin on his face. He makes haste of taking his clothes off and when he sees you trying to do the same, he takes over and pulls your shorts and underwear off. He's above you in an instant, wedging his hips between your legs, allowing his tip to nudge through your slick folds. "Dream me really did a number on you, huh? You're so wet."

"He was a freak." You giggle, watching Toji adjust himself.

"Not freakier than me, right?" He asks, kissing up your stomach until he reaches your chest.

"He's definitely competition for you, but you're number one, baby."

Toji gives you a deadpan expression, luring a laugh from you. "So damn lucky you asked me to go easy on you." He looks at that tired smile on your face, instantly remembering his mission. "Gonna put it in, 'kay ma?"

"Okay," you murmur, reaching your hands up to caress his face.

You both go quiet for a second as he brings his cock towards your entrance. Even the gentlest of Toji's movements are hard to take sometimes, but you've always been praised by him for handling those movements so well every time. You try to mute the gasp that comes with Toji stretching you, but your discomfort is not something you can easily hide from him.

"S'all good, princess," he mumbles into your neck. He can feel you trembling as he pushes in further. "Always so good for me. You can take it, huh?"

You squeak out a little 'fuck' and are instantly soothed by Toji. "I know, I know, my pretty girl. Don't cry." He looks into your twinkling eyes and kisses away the crystals gliding down your face. You're somewhat distracted by the affectionate butterfly kisses Toji scatters on your face. He uses this as a chance to sheathe the rest of himself inside you. Another inch stuffed into you, another kiss to your lips. He can see the light way your nose scrunches, instantly catching you with a coo of "that's it, mama. That's all of it."

You shudder, sighing as you push your head back into the pillow. "Fuck. Your dick is cursed, baby."

"You love it, anyway, little masochist." He smirks.

"What's a good fuck without some pain?" You can see the way his face lights up, almost like he considered that a green light to fuck you like an animal. "Ah, no," you intervene so quickly. "You're easing me back to sleep."

"Right." He stifles a laugh. "Let's get on that then."

It doesn't usually go this way with Toji. He likes to show off his strength against you, be it breaking your back when you arch over the crushing orgasms he gives you or holding you down when you try to squirm away from his overstimulating touch.

Somehow you got him to slow down for you this time, and the prize is you getting to mumble sweet nothings to him. His reward is that he gets to stay in gentle control. You tell him you love him and he responds with a little "mhm". You tell him you wouldn't go anywhere without telling him first but he doesn't read into the code in your message, so he smiles and says "you'd get lost, and I'd have to find you." You tell him you're glad you get to sleep next to him and he chuckles in your ear, responding with a non-threating "dick's got you all emotional, baby?"

You laugh it off, not taking it to heart. "Just love being close like this with you is all."

It goes quiet for a minute, only your little breaths and Toji's pants filling the silence. Toji can hear your heartbeat as he rocks both of you. Your heels dig into his lower back, your nails dragging across his shoulder blades. "Fuck, princess. I'll bust if you keep scratchin' me up like that." His lips ghost the column of your neck before latching on and working a mark into your skin. Your thighs squeeze against his waist as he grazes your sweet spot repeatedly.

Toji knows you well enough to know that that's a tell-tale sign that you're about to cum, so he makes his touch overwhelming. His hands run up your body until he reaches your chest, where he teases your nipples until your stomach starts quivering and you start breathing shakily. He massages your hips with his thumbs, while pressing kisses to your jaw with little murmurs of, "show me how good you feel" and "come on, baby."

"Fuck, princess..." he groans, almost reaching his own peak. "I wanna hear you. None of that covering your mouth or biting your tongue shit."

You folded so quickly after that, gasping like the air was sucked out of your lungs. "G-Go- Oh god! Fuck, Toji... I-"

"Mhm... fuck yeah, baby. T-That's good, so fuckin' good," he groans, rutting into you as he spews out his load. You put your hands up to his chest, pushing weakly as the overstimulation starts kicking in. He pants, trying to catch his breath as he slows to a halt. "So good for me, mama," he mumbles into your neck, his cock still buried in your soaked cunt. "No one deserves you." He presses a few more kisses onto your shoulder before getting off of you. Your eyes shut for seconds at a time every time you blink, meaning you could knock out any moment now. Any other day, the sight of cum drooling out of your pussy would incite another round, but Toji said he would fuck you to sleep, and he kept his word. The session concluded and now he gets to clean you up while you rest.

[perpetuallyburntout]

“Can you come get me?”

Five Hargreeves x gn!reader

Five takes care of you after you get injured.

Word Count: 990

TW: blood, mentions of injuries and needles/stitches

My back hit the door, and I sucked in a breath as my legs gave out and I sank to the floor. Unbuttoning my shirt with trembling hands, I looked down and examined the injury in my side, feeling a wave of nausea as I saw the blood and a new wave of pain overcame me.

I fumbled for my phone, not really thinking as I unlocked it and called a number I knew by heart. It rang for several painstaking seconds, before a familiar voice deadpanned from the other side.

“I take it you’re not dead.”

Hearing Five’s voice was enough to make me relax slightly, but I swallowed hard and kept myself as alert as possible.

“N-no, I’m not…” I said with a weak huff of laughter. “Disappointed?”

There was a short silence, then his tone of voice was slightly different as he asked, “Are you… what did you need?”

“Oh, um…” I leaned my head back against the wall, taking a deep breath. “C-can you please come get me? Now?”

If I hadn’t been trying to ignore the pain in my side and the dizziness in my head, I would have been flattered by the lack of hesitation in his voice when he replied, “Be there in a minute.”

I almost asked him to stay on the line, but he hung up before I could get anything else out. Dropping my phone at my side, I kept my eyes up at the ceiling and tried not to glance down at my injury. Just a minute. I just had to hang in there for a minute.

It could have been a few seconds, a minute, or an hour that I waited with how slow time seemed to move, but finally, with a brief flash of light, Five appeared a few feet away from me.

His brows raised slightly as he noticed me, a curse leaving his lips before he knelt beside me. “Who did this to you?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but he abruptly cut me off before the words could leave my mouth. “It doesn’t matter right now. I’m getting you out of here.”

As he leaned down and hooked an arm around my waist, I muttered. “Your power makes me nauseous.”

“Yes, well, unless you’d like to walk, you don’t have any other options,” he told me shortly.

His grip on me tightened slightly, and in an instant, my world spun. I felt like I was floating until, as quickly as the floor was gone from below me, it was back. My mouth watered with the urge to throw up, and I forced it back.

“Throw up on me, and I’ll leave you to die,” Five hissed, letting go of me and stepping hastily back. I watched him as he walked across the room—his room, I realised—and opened a drawer, digging around for something. He glanced back at me briefly. “Start talking. I need you to stay awake.”

“What is there to talk about?” I sighed, flexing my fingers.

“You tell me.”

“Ugh… I just got caught is all. I incapacitated most of them.”

He returned to my side with a first aid kit in hand, moving my shirt out of the way and wiping away the excess blood around the wound. “Most of them?”

“One got away,” I told him, glancing down as he worked.

“I’m going to kill them,” he muttered, then said louder, “You’re not gonna die. But I need to stitch this up.”

I winced. “Do you have anything to numb it?”

“No.” He pulled stitches out of the kit and prepared them. “You ready?”

“No. Do it anyway.”

“Good attitude.”

I couldn’t watch as he pressed the needle into my skin, but I felt the pain as he got to work. I inhaled shakily, blackness crowding my vision as another wave of dizziness hit me.

“Y/n,” he snapped, but my eyes were fluttering shut. A sudden sharp pain in my cheek snapped my eyes back open. He smacked me.

“Prick,” I muttered.

“Now’s not the time for naps,” he retorted with a sarcastic smile. “I’ll do it again if you get any ideas.”

I gritted my teeth, but focused every bit of my energy on keeping my eyes open as he finished stitching the wound. Afterwards, he cleaned up the extra blood and started bandaging it, wrapping the bandages around my abdomen, not too tight. Another minute later, he leaned back.

“Done.”

I let out a long breath, hair falling over my face as I dropped my head. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Can I sleep now?”

“Can you stand?”

I braced my hands against the floor, pushing myself up and hissing at the pain. Five wrapped an arm around me, helping me up and leading me to his bed, letting me sit back against the mattress. He made a face. “I’m gonna have to wash my sheets after this.”

“Oh, what an inconvenience I am to you,” I retorted, leaning back carefully until my head reached his pillow.

“You have no idea.”

He glanced towards the door, but I spoke up before he could disappear. “Wait, Five…”

I reached out to grab his wrist, but stopped short. He noticed this. “What, do you want me to stay, too?”

I winced, dropping my hand, and his sharp gaze softened slightly. Sighing softly, he dragged a chair over to the bedside and sat back in it. “Fine.”

I shut my eyes briefly, relief crashing down on me. I didn’t want to be alone right now. “Thank you. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” he said simply. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He wasn’t going anywhere. He was staying. Thank god for that.

As my body sank further into the mattress and I inhaled the lingering scent of him on the sheets, I could feel myself slipping away. My last thought before blackness swamped me was that I really needed to repay him someday.

[shares-a-vest]

I feel like over the past week and a half, I have been any given one of the trio in this ficlet. So yeah, I'm projecting onto my blorbos. Enjoy!

Eddie can sense Steve isn't in bed when he blinks awake. It's still dark out and the apartment is freezing. Well, Eddie is freezing without the furnace-like warmth of his boyfriend curled into his side.

He looks over at Steve's nightstand to find that the alarm clock only reads a little past 3am and that's when he begins to panic. It's nowhere near time for Steve's early morning run, nor is it a reasonable enough hour that he might be pottering about in the living room.

So, Eddie hops out of bed and is immediately hit by the winter chill of the two-bed apartment he and Steve share with Robin.

He shivers as he walks into the hallway, where he finds the apartment still shrouded in an icy darkness. He chances a peek into Robin's room, where he finds his housemate sound asleep and snoring, lying in the middle of her bed and certainly without the company of her best friend.

Steve has nightmares – hell, the three of them do. But Steve usually ends up with Robin if the situation arises.

Eddie continues on, now tucking his hands under his armpits, hugging himself as he dips his chin into the loosened neck-hole of his oversized sweater – a maroon-coloured former Harrington Classic.

He tiptoes along so as not to disturb Robin, almost sliding his socks along the floorboards as he makes his way into the living area, his path illuminated by outside street lamps.

Eddie tsks under his breath when he comes across Steve, curled in on himself as he lays soundly asleep on the couch, his nail bat close by on the floor.

Steve hums, or more shivers – visibly freezing as he sleeps in nothing more than an old pair of gym shorts whose material Eddie suspects might evaporate the next time they find themselves in one of the building's shoddy washing machines.

He sits by his boyfriend's side and places a hand on Steve's shoulder, desperate to stir him enough to coax him back to bed, but not spook him entirely.

"Sweetheart," he stage-whispers as Steve grumbles.

"Hmm?" he murmurs before startling awake. His eyes snap to attention and he looks up at Eddie as he speaks full volume, his voice groggy, "I heard a noise."

Steve rubs at his arms, the iciness of their surroundings hitting him now that he is (at least, partially) conscious.

"Love, I need you to come back to bed, it's freezing out here."

"But, I heard a noise," Steve whines, sitting up now.

Eddie can't help it, he presses his palm to Steve's cheek and his heart skips a beat at just how cold he feels.

"Shit," he curses and loops his arm around Steve's middle, commanding, "Bed, now."

Steve grumbles, but complies, lazily reaching for his bat before they both stand up as one. Eddie takes his boyfriend's weight, the bat dragging along by Steve's side as they shuffle back towards their bedroom.

Steve shivers and continues mumbling something about the noise he heard. And Eddie can't tell if it was an actual noise or something heard in that strange (and admittedly, scary) space between wake and sleep. Whatever it is, Steve seems both frightened and stubborn all in one.

He shudders again and Eddie can't bring himself to bite his tongue any longer.

"Baby, why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

Typically, he'd be all over Steve in such a state of undress – with all that hair and muscle. But right now, his arms are peppered with goosebumps and his eyes are starting to droop with every step.

"Got hot before," Steve explains, weary.

They pass by Robin's bedroom and the door opens fully, revealing a duvet-covered mass and in the darkness, Eddie can still spot a frown.

"What's going on?" she asks, voice like gravel but nonetheless worried.

"I heard a noise, Robbie."

His tone pains Eddie from his heart down to his gut and the same must happen to Robin too because, in an instant, she retreats to her room in haste.

Eddie continues on to his and Steve's bedroom and gently lowers Steve onto the edge of the bed before he takes the baseball bat. He makes a show of rolling it back under the bed but Steve isn't watching. Instead, his boyfriend is looking over at Robin, who has reappeared, cradling a handful of items and hunching her shoulders in a feeble attempt to keep some kind of hold on her blanket.

Eddie flicks on the bedside lamp and crosses her as he heads off in search of a sweater. He rifles through a drawer and listens on to what sounds like Robin crowding the nightstand with her stuff before she swishes about the excess bedding. Steve whines and Eddie turns back to find Robin with her arm around her best friend.

"Alright," Eddie says, holding out a navy sweater, "Time for bed."

He gestures for Steve to lift his arms up and he complies. It takes a moment, but Eddie wrestles the near-dead weight of Steve into a cozy sweater before he lifts his legs to help him into bed.

"In the middle, Dingus," Robin instructs, "And don't snore."

"How about, you don't fart," Steve quips, shuffling into the middle nonetheless.

There's a bitchy lilt to Steve's voice that has Eddie relaxing a little. He rolls his eyes, thinking the pair burrowing under the covers will probably bicker on. But honestly, he'd prefer that to the balled-up, half-naked, scared Steve he found out in the living room.

Eddie exchanges a glance with Robin before she reaches for the nightstand and grabs a hot water bottle, her Walkman, a notepad and a pencil.

"What the hell are you doing?" Eddie grouses, rounding his side of the bed – thankful to slip back under the covers.

But he pauses mid-way, distracted now as Robin juggles with her wears.

"I need my things," she grumbles as she places the hot water bottle on her stomach and dry sobs, "Oh no, it has gone cold!"

Steve rolls his eyes in Robin's direction, more sleepily than annoyed.

"Eddie, go get some hot water," he mumble-commands, turning to snuggle in close to his best friend.

"What?"

"Eddie..."

"Fine," he reaches for the hot water bottle and snatches it from Robin's grasp.

Eddie thinks he must love his boyfriend a lot, considering how he freezes his ass off to a doubled-over, teeth-chattering level in the several minutes it takes for their stupid kettle to warm up. And by the time he gets back to the bedroom, Robin is quietly snoring with Steve tucked into her side, the two of them forming a single hair-filled mass of platonic soulmatedness.

Eddie tucks the hot water bottle under Robin's covers as best he can and resumes his spot, giggling at the thought of the inevitable drool that is going to make its way into Steve's hair at some point. He snuggles in behind Steve, forming a cocoon around him and his boyfriend snuffles at the touch.

"It's okay, Stevie," he says, kissing him just behind the ear, "Get some sleep. Don't think about the noise. You're safe here with me and Rob."

"What about my ba –"

"It's back under the bed, sweetheart," Steve hums at that, relaxing against him, "We'll figure out the noise in the morning, I promise."

"'Kay," Steve breathes more than speaks as sleep overcomes him, "Love... you."

"I won't let anything hurt you, Steve," Eddie says, hugging him tight.

[swamp-adder]

"Watson!"

I knew that voice, but the sharp note of alarm in it was new to me.

"Watson -- oh God." There were hands on me, shaking me lightly, causing a slight groan to escape me.

"It's all right, Watson. You're going to be all right." My friend was babbling the same kind of meaningless reassurances I had given to too many patients to count, though in a tone that suggested it was himself he was trying to reassure more than me.

There was a sudden pressure on my abdomen which sent another spike of pain through me, and I gasped.

"I'm sorry, my dear fellow, I know that it hurts, but I must try to slow the bleeding. Lestrade has gone to fetch a doctor, he will be back soon."

I was awake enough now to open my eyes and take in the image of my friend leaning over me, his face pale and strained. He had removed his coat and was pressing it firmly against the spot where the bullet had entered my body. Despite this attempt to stem the bleeding, the coat was quickly becoming soaked and my medical instinct told me that I was unlikely to survive long enough for Lestrade's doctor to arrive.

Accepting my own death in that moment was surprisingly easy, given the manner in which it had come about. I had taken that bullet deliberately, to prevent it from reaching Holmes. What better or more honorable death could I possibly wish for? I was proud to meet my end in such a way. I attempted in a somewhat halting manner to explain this to Holmes -- to reassure him if this was my time to go that I did not regret it for one instant.

"Nonsense!" he snapped, interrupting me. "Do not be such a romantic fool, Watson. Surely you realize that you are of far more use to me in life than in death? Really, Watson, I should be most disappointed if you were to allow yourself to succumb to so -- so trifling an injury!" The flippancy of his words was belied by the slight tremor in his voice as he uttered them.

By now any motion of my body seemed to send another wave of agony through me. Even drawing breath was growing increasingly painful, besides which I was beginning to grow dizzy from the loss of blood. My eyelids fluttered closed.

"Stay with me, Watson," Holmes ordered in his sternest and most commanding tone.

"I will… try," I managed to gasp.

"You will not merely try," he insisted. "You will do as I say. Do you hear me, Watson?"

It was beginning to seem as if would be easier not to try to breathe anymore.

"Watson!" That sharp tone, ringing with iron, was like a slap across the face. "I know that it is painful, but you must keep on breathing. You are not to give up. I absolutely forbid it. I have not given you permission to leave me, do you understand? I have not finished with you yet!"

I gritted my teeth against the pain and forced myself to draw another breath.

The voice immediately changed, became gentle and soothing. "That's right, my dear fellow. You are doing very well. You have never failed me before, and I know that you will not fail me now."

It was absurd to suggest that I had never failed him -- he had rebuked me for such failures often enough, as he ought to remember. Still, the power that warm praise held over me was quite extraordinary, and somehow in spite of myself I continued struggling for breath.

I had not closed my eyes, but my vision was fading to black in any case. My ears were ringing strangely and Holmes' voice sounded distant and hollow. Yet even as my strength ebbed, the pain itself was also receding -- instead I felt oddly warm and drowsy. If this is what death is, I remember thinking, then perhaps it is not so bad. I confess that at that moment I desired nothing more than to simply relax and allow myself to softly drift away… but he had commanded me to live.

And I would obey.

[thirteenducks]

feverish

(wriothesley x wife!reader) [sfw]

༻❁༺ content: fem!reader (reader is referred to by ‘wife’ and "she/her"), established relationship, marriage, reader has hair long enough to reach neck

༻❁༺ word count: ~1.5k

༻❁༺ tags: sickfic, banter while sick, this is just wrio taking care of you and being a butt while doing it, feat. sigewinne who does not get paid enough for this, if you are sick and reading this rn im so sorry and i hope you get well soon, coldsink wrio x heatsource wife agenda

༻❁༺ author’s note: my friend @mmmairon is sick and i am in another country and cannot help so i'm sending wrio on my behalf. pls enjoy especially if you don't feel well right now :(

After a restless night, Wriothesley is thrilled to hear that you're awake now. He wastes no time in rushing to your side.

Wriothesley’s pen scratches unpleasantly against a disciplinary notice, its point threatening to carve into the wood of the desk beneath. The owner mutters darkly under his breath as he completes a signature on the offending paper and slides it to his left. Immediately, another takes its place from the stack on his right.

For two hours, nothing else has broken the quiet of the Duke’s office. Two hours too long, by Wriothesley’s measure. He glances at the clock, hand continuing to sign his name by sheer muscle memory.

Are you getting any rest? Did the chamomile from your tea an hour ago help at all, or are the throes of fever keeping you awake? Does he have the right ingredients to make you beef stew? Preoccupied, he writes “soup” on the signature line of a prisoner release form by mistake.

He sighs, pinching the crooked bridge of his nose between his fingers. They’re as cold as ever. He misses the warmth of yours unspeakably.

The next thirty minutes pass like an eternity. Surely, Sigewinne would be at his side in an instant if you were awake. His presence there now would only serve to wake you from much-needed rest and defer his backlog of paperwork even more. Neither of these points keeps him from staring the clock down like he’s in the ring again.

Suddenly, there’s a quiet knock on his door and Wriothesley snaps to attention, nearly knocking over an inkwell in his haste. Sigewinne enters without his bidding, an unreadable expression on her kind face. She doesn’t wait for his question before she answers it.

“Yes, the tea put her to sleep, and yes, she’s awake now.”

His features relax in a moment, the furrow in his brow smoothing.

“I’m afraid she’s not any better than she was this morning, however. I would have really liked to see her fever come down by now...” The Melusine trails off, her small hand on her chin and a pout on her face. “The chill probably isn’t doing her much good, either.”

Her boss, however, is already halfway downstairs, pulling his coat on as he takes the steps two at a time. Sigewinne sighs as she turns to follow him at a much slower pace. So predictable when his wife is involved.

In contrast to the speed at which he crosses the fortress to your shared living quarters, Wriothesley’s steps are soft as he nears your bedroom door.

“Sweetheart? Are you up?”

A weak cough answers him. He’s by the bedside in a moment, kneeling and pushing aside the curtain that hides you from him. Your eyes squint a bit as the sickly light of the fortress filters in, and his hand moves up to shield your face as he appears in your field of vision.

Despite the red ringing your eyes and nose and the congestion in your breathing, you smile up at him and his heart almost jumps out of his chest.

“Hi, darling.”

The side of his mouth quirks up. “Hi. Feeling any better?”

You shake your head slightly, your hair fanning out on the pillow beneath you. He silently gathers it in one hand and moves it away from your neck as he waits for you to continue. The brush of his cool hand against your flushed skin feels incredible and you bring your hand to rest on his, a silent entreaty to keep it there.

“Sigewinne says I’m in the worst of it now and that from here-” you stop to cough, Wriothesley’s eyes raking over your frame as it shakes with the effort. “-from here it should be uphill. As long as I can rest up today.”

He pushes the hair back from your forehead with his other hand, stroking it absentmindedly. “Well, we’ll have to stick it out until tomorrow then, huh?” The grin he shoots you, all teeth, does more for you than you think any of the medicine on your bedside table has.

That’s why you’re as surprised as he is when the tears start to roll down your cheeks. You hadn’t even known they were there until now, but suddenly it’s so much harder to breathe than it was and Wriothesley is a swimming blur in front of you. The shooting pain in your head, dulled to an ache until now, comes back in full force as your body curls in on itself and your temple meets your husband’s shoulder.

You don’t know if you’re crying from the headache, from exhaustion, or from something else, and your mind is too foggy to care. All you can do is be held as his arms come to rest firmly around you and he pulls you to him, murmuring words of comfort.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry... I wish I could do more.” Your hands grip his collar a little tighter as you sob into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “I know, love. You’ll feel better soon, I promise. Sigewinne and I are gonna take care of everything, okay?”

There’s an edge of concern to his voice that you can hear even through the haze of sickness. You hate it. It’s likely just the seasonal flu; half the Fortress has had it at some point this winter. The thought of how much you were making him worry over something so small as this...

“I know what you’re thinking. Stop it,” Wriothesley gently reprimands, his cool fingers stroking your forehead again. You can feel the cold metal of his wedding ring against the heated skin. “You’re not being a baby about anything. You hear me?”

Your silence speaks volumes. He laughs a little, the sound loud in the silence of your bedroom. “I know you well, don’t I?”

It takes a while for your tears to completely subside. When you’re finished sniffling against his collar, he props you up against the headboard with pillows behind your back. You’re more congested than ever, something your husband has the nerve to laugh at as he hands you tissues, but there’s no unkindness in his tone.

He disappears into the kitchen for a few minutes as you doze, exhausted from the effort of crying for so long. When he eases the door open again, he’s carrying a tray with a teacup and pot (of course) and a bowl of something that smells warm and comforting.

“Hmm. Excellent room service this place has. The waiter is a little scruffy, though,” you say as Wriothesley places it on your lap, tucking in the covers around you.

He gives you a fake look of injury. “How dare you, ma’am. I’ll have you know I’m too worried about my wife to shave, who I’m afraid is deathly ill,” he sighs, stroking the stubble on his jaw. He spoons soup into your mouth before you can retort, stifling a smile.

Once you’ve drained half the soup, Wriothesley seems satisfied. He removes the tray from your lap and takes your hand, bringing it to his own forehead.

“Oh, no. How awful.” He shoots you a glance. “It appears the Duke of the Fortress has come down with something.”

You raise an eyebrow. His forehead is as cool as the rest of him is. “Really.”

“Oh, yes,” he says, flopping onto your lap. “It looks like he’ll be out of the office for the rest of the day.”

You laugh, wincing when it makes your head throb. “The Duke sounds like a slacker, if you ask me.”

“Well, everyone knows that,” Wriothesley murmurs, burying his face into your thigh. “They’ll have to tell my boss about it.” You feel him grin against your leg.

You sigh, feigning exasperation. “What a shame. I was just about to ask him to dinner, too.”

Wriothesley has migrated to his side of the bed by now and is nestling into your side with the stubbornness of a dog. “Don’t worry, I hear he’s a messy eater. Absolute carnivore.”

Your hands come to rest on his head, the soft grey strands tickling your palms. “You know you’re going to get sick, right? I’m highly contagious.”

No answer.

“You’re the head of the Fortress, Wrio. If you get laid up, Sigewinne might put a bounty out on you. She seems like the type.”

Your husband murmurs into your side, already half-asleep. “She’ll have to catch me first.”

Despite your many blankets and the body next to you, a sudden chill runs through you and you stiffen. He feels it, arms tightening around your waist.

“Fever pills are on the bedside in the white bottle. Water is next to it.”

You smile. “Thank you, darling.” He hums in response.

A few days later, you’re well enough to leave your room again. Sigewinne would be thrilled, if not for your husband, who looks more smug than any sick man has a right to be.

He sniffles, burrowing into your sheets again as the Melusine glares daggers at him. “I’ll be fine. My wife loves me and I have leftover soup in the fridge. What else does a man need?”

[astarion-obsessions]

I think not enough people understand that Astarion doesn't want you to be his main or only source of blood. This even stands in direct contrast to what he really wants to achieve with biting Tav. Let me explain.

Why Astarion doesn't want you to be his blood bag

Let me start with explaining how I approached this topic. First of all, when I triggered the bite scene in my playthrough, I obviously let Astarion drink from my Tav. But then I got curious. What happens when I don't stop him? He's said I could trust him just a moment ago, didn't he? So I did just that, I trusted him literally with my life. 

Aaaand... he killed me. Well. What did I expect from a vampire, really. But that he actually drained me dry broke my heart. I really wanted to trust him, to reach out and show him that I didn't judge him for what he was and so on. I was really disappointed in him and couldn't quite grasp why he would do this. Was it a conscious decision? Did he lose control? Surely he would apologise and explain everything to me once someone resurrected me, returning the trust I was giving him the night prior, right?... right?

Of course not. The dialogue after him killing Tav was... at least as disappointing as him killing Tav in the first place. He shows his usual attitude, apologises half-heartedly and then just keeps going on with talking about draining the occasional bandit. He even snaps when you mention the topic of him feeding after that with something like "I already apologised, what more do you want?".

There's no real regret, no emotions. He simply doesn't care.

We know that he didn't care in the beginning, he tells us as much when he confesses his unwanted, growing feelings towards Tav in act 2. But still the whole bite scene didn't sit right with me until…

The Nightmare 

I randomly stumbled upon a clip of Astarion having a nightmare, so I researched about it and even started an Astarion run to experience it myself. So, if you play as Astarion, at the second long rest of act 1 he has a nightmare about Cazador, in which he recites the rules that defined how Astarion and the other spawn had to live:

First, thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures. 

Second, thou shalt obey me in all things. 

Third, thou shalt not leave my side unless directed. 

Fourth, thou shalt know that thou art mine. 

However Astarion reacts to this dream, he jolts awake afterwards and instinctively panics that he needs to find a way back to his master as soon as possible. His eyes set on his companions, who are sleeping / meditating peacefully around the fire, and then a thought passes his mind.

He could try to break one of Cazador's rules right then and there. He's able to stand in the sun, to bathe in running water, so maybe…

And that's why he decides to bite a companion. Astarion wakes up utterly terrified of what his master will do to him if he doesn't return to him in an instant - and he knows all too well what kind of horrors would await him if he so much as dares to think about rebelling again (read about that here) - so he is in desperate need of confirmation that he is now able to withstand and actively break the rules that have dominated his life for two centuries.

He needs to know that he is able to drink the blood of a thinking creature. And there they are. His clueless companions served on a silver platter. It's like an invitation to him, to test his boundaries. And who would be more fitting than the good hearted leader of the party Astarion wanted to (or already has) seduce(d) anyway?

This piece of information shed a whole new light on the bite scene. But let's look a bit closer at that. 

The Bite Night 

The very first thing Tav registers about what's going on with Astarion that night is him baring his fangs right above us, about to sink them into our flesh. He pulls back as soon as we open our eyes, retreating immediately until there's a safe distance between him and Tav. 

This may be the first time Tav gets to know that Astarion is a vampire, so he gets defensive and tells us that he's never killed a person for food, only animals. But then, instead of letting the idea of feeding on Tav go, he insists that animals aren't enough. 

But it's not enough. Not if I have to fight. I feel so weak. 

If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please. 

Then he goes on, literally pleading to get what he wants while putting on a sad expression in the end, even averting his gaze. 

And if we now have in mind that he just woke up from a nightmare about Cazador, feeling powerless and in desperate need of even a glimpse of hope that he might escape Cazador's cruel grip, his lines make a lot of sense. He's veiling the truth, of course, but not all of what he says is a lie. 

He indeed feels weak - powerless in fact - so drinking Tav's blood (the blood of a thinking creature) could prove that he may have regained a bit of power over himself, which had been exclusively reserved for Cazador the last 200 years. This would absolutely make him feel stronger, more confident than he's felt for a long, long time. 

And he indeed could think clearer after tasting Tav's blood, because this would bring clarity to the question if he is now able to break Cazador's rules on purpose and therefore give him information to work with when he needs to think about what to do next. 

Right after this, we get the chance to push into Astarion's mind, and if we do this, we can see what he thinks about. 

His mind opens up, revealing cracked and quivering memories. At their heart, you see dark eyes, commanding you to feed. 

You open your mouth and bite down. Not into a tender neck, but in the twisting body of a rat - the only thing your master lets you eat. 

He recalls the memory of how his master used to force him to eat disgusting vermin. As his memory is told, we can clearly see how deeply this affects him, for he can't keep up his walls of defensiveness and detachment. They just crack, crumble and reveal his misery clearly for Tav to observe. When we ask him about it directly afterwards, he first seems to search for a way out - a witty remark, anything - but gives up almost immediately. And he looks and sounds just completely defeated and tired, confirming what Tav just saw in his mind. 

He goes on with talking about trust. I think here he's seeing a chance to gain Tav's sympathy. If he already reveals such delicate information about his past, he can as well make use of it. So he appeals to Tav's understanding, offering us that this past is the reason for him only trusting Tav slowly. But then he immediately adds that now he trusts Tav, and that in return Tav can trust him, too. 

What he does here is displaying himself as pitiful, gaining Tav's sympathy, then seemingly going out of his way and saying that despite all he does trust Tav, which puts Tav in the position to follow suit with returning the trust… which Astarion definitely lied about on his part. But that's what he does. Manipulating. 

If we then respond with "You tried to bite me. How can I trust you?" instead of assuring us of his trustworthiness with more manipulation, he gets frustrated. 

Because we don't have a choice! Not if we're going to save ourselves from these worms. 

But he goes on with masking his reasons, even if he gave us a hint right in the beginning of act 1 when we picked him up, where he said that he would rather control the tadpole instead of removing it. If we play as Astarion, it gets clear pretty fast that he holds onto the tadpole, because it seems to be the only thing that had been able to "save" him from Cazador whilst no one and nothing else even attempted to help him for two centuries. Of course he would not want to get rid of the tadpole just like that. But he says so nonetheless to align with Tav's goals and display himself as useful. 

And then he does something interesting. 

I need you alive. You need me strong. 

Please. Only be a taste, I swear. I'll be well, you'll be fine, and everything can go back to normal. 

In the beginning of this conversation he mentioned he needed the blood to fight better. Now he takes up on this by saying that Tav needs him strong, hinting on him getting stronger after having a taste of Tav's blood. And then he promises that after this "everything can go back to normal", which right now means Astarion feeding on animals again. 

A few things about this are odd. 

Firstly, "only be a taste". Everyone, literally everyone has heard about the insatiable hunger of vampires. So how is it supposed to work that Astarion gets stronger from just a taste of Tav's blood? For how long? A few hours? Not nearly long enough to pose a real advantage, eh? For me this makes no sense. And if we think about his true intentions - wanting to find out if he can break Cazador's rule - just a taste would be absolutely enough. (And after he bites Tav without killing them, he even says that he needs something more filling!) 

Secondly, if Astarion really wanted to become stronger with the help of Tav's blood, why would he promise to go back to normal afterwards? He just offered Tav a stronger companion but then immediately nullified this argument by literally saying that this will be a one time arrangement. 

Thirdly, he subtly offers a bargain. "You give me your blood, I will be a stronger fighter for you." He did so in the beginning as well, repeating it with different words. And it fits his character very well to do so, because for all he knows everything comes with a price. He almost gets beaten to death and Cazador mercifully comes to his rescue? The price is a never ending life of torment and abuse. Astarion helps a potential victim for Cazador to flee? The price is a year of starvation, locked up in a dusty and dark tomb without knowing if it will ever find an end. Mindflayers rescued him from Cazador, (passively) granting him to possibly be free of him at last? The price is becoming a tentacled monster in the end. 

If we then allow him to bite us, he's visibly surprised about our graciousness, but of course doesn't let this chance slip and suggests getting comfortable instantly. Then he finally gets to sink his teeth into Tav's neck. This part of the scene can more or less be viewed from both sides - Astarion's and Tav's. 

He begins to feed on Tav and after a bit we can decide to interrupt him, but have to pass an ability check first. This repeats a second time when playing Tav, and even if it's only one AC when we play Astarion and decide to bite a companion, it still aligns, showing that Astarion seemingly loses himself in the taste of Tav's blood - which is very likely because (as he later tells us) we were the first humanoid he's ever fed on, so it's imaginable that Tav's blood must be tasting almost divine to him. 

This theory is supported by his actions after we fail the first AC or just let him continue. He grabs the back of Tav's head to pull them towards himself, emphasising on how greedy he is sucking the blood out of Tav. The camera even uses the exact same angles before failing or skipping the first AC and after, so the comparison is easy and the difference is clear:

If we then fail or skip the next AC, Astarion just drains us dry… And it gets even better after the bite night. 

The Morning After 

When Tav gets revived and then talks to Astarion, he is visibly surprised to see us, after he left the dead body of Tav behind with saying "Oh no, something terrible has happened". Sure Astarion, something… 

All of this happens when Astarion still doesn't care for Tav. He reacts with panic when we confront him with the fact that he literally killed us, and just manages to get his expression under control after a few seconds. I mean, just look at him:

'Killed' feels like a strong word. Not many corpses have your vigour. 

He definitely knows what he's done, and that 'killed' is indeed the right word for it, he is just very very bad at coping with guilt (which is amazingly analysed by thelikesoffinn - definitely read this, you'll understand Astarion so much better after this). 

He instantly lays the focus on our codependency again, that we need each other and so on. If we question why we should keep him around, he answers with:

A strong, well-fed vampire? I'm a powerful weapon - you'd be a fool to toss me aside now. 

With mentioning this, he wants to make sure that Tav will let him stay by their side and therefore grant him protection. 

But more importantly he continues:

Anyway, last night was an aberration. It will never happen again. 

He doesn't even start with something like "Next time I'll be more careful" or anything similar. He straight up says that it will never happen again. Period. If we then ask who he will feed on next time he gets hungry, he presents the idea of feeding on villains and bandits "who need killing anyway". And this is exactly what he wants. This even shows in his reaction to Tav's response to his suggestion.

If we agree and therefore allow him to feed on our enemies ("Sounds good. Glad we could agree"), this is how he reacts:

As am I. I'm starting to feel a little peckish already. 

This itself doesn't sound all too enthusiastic, but we get his approval up, which definitely shows that he very much likes that Tav agreed. 

On the contrary, if we suggest he can feed on Tav, ignoring his will wish to feed on villains ("Look, I'm not against you feeding on me, but only if we talk about it first"), this is his reaction:

Of course! This sounds eminently reasonable. 

I shall wait patiently until you suggest we… dine together. 

Doesn't sound too bad either, eh? But we don't get his approval. He doesn't disapprove, of course, because this is still a thousand times better than what he had until then, but still not what he really wants… 

So, what does all of this mean for the initial question? 

Conclusion 

The crucial point here is what it means for Astarion to feed on Tav. The only things he remembers since Cazador turned him, are being relentlessly dominated and horrifyingly abused. The things Astarion wants the most are to be safe and to finally have control over himself again. 

He bit Tav for the sole purpose of finding out if he can be free of Cazador's rules. So why would he jump right into being dependent on Tav? He suggests to feed on villains, because then he is free of anyone's mercy. He doesn't need to rely on Tav to graciously allow him to get a drop of blood. He can do this himself now. 

This is such an important step for his character growth, to find the way to his autonomy again, so if we only allow him to feed on Tav, it instantly sets him back into old habits of bowing to his masters words - or in this case Tav's. Because it's all hes been doing for the last two centuries of his life. 

So, as much as the thought of the self-sacrificing offer to be his personal blood bag may seem romantic or whatever, it's actually the exact opposite, trapping Astarion in what he desperately tries to escape from. The restrictions that come with someone dominating him mentally and physically. And as I mentioned earlier, he doesn't believe in the goodness of people. For him every "kind" act has a price and he likes to know what he has to pay, so he wouldn't even want to just drink Tav's blood without Tav getting anything out of it. He would most certainly expect Tav one day to come around with something he doesn't want to give or do, so he wants to control such situations beforehand. 

All he wants is to make his own decisions and be free in every way possible… 

So please just let him drain some bandits, will ya? 

[joelswritingmistress]

Neighbors With Benefits: Part 4 (Joel Miller x f! reader)

Part of the #hotdilfsummerchallenge @hellishjoel

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 3600

Warning: Smut, Smut and more smut. Age gap (23 & 42)

“I, uh…” You let out a deep breath and felt him glance over your shoulder at the open photo album. “I’m sorry.” You closed the book, “I just heard my parents pull in and was looking out the window. I toyed with the cover of this. It’s not my business, I’m sorry.” You were rambling and felt a sudden rush of emotion.

Joel sighed and when he parted from you, you expected the worst. You turned to face him and he looked you directly in the eye.

“We’re not together anymore,” he confessed. The words impaled you with instant relief, dulling the pain that had immediately made home in your chest.

“Okay.” You nodded and then shrugged, “I shouldn’t have opened it. I didn’t even realize-”

“It’s okay.” Joel ran a hand through his hair and took a single glance down at the book before regaining your stare. “We bought this house together in the winter. We thought moving and starting fresh somewhere would help our marriage.” He eyed the hardwood floor for a moment. “There’s an old saying: ‘wherever you go, there you are’. That’s what happened. After the initial high wore off of buying the house and settling in, the same old fights started and we were just as.. distant.”

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head. “I didn’t mean to bring this up.”

“It’s fine. I should have told you.”

“So, you’re divorced?”

Joel cleared his throat, “We’re separated. Her name is still on the house but I pay everything here - barely.” He scratched the back of his head, “She moved in with her sister up in Lakeway back in March.”

This is heavy. You took a deep breath and swallowed hard, not knowing what to say.

“If this changes things, or if you’d rather not-”

Right away you cut him off. “It doesn’t.” The words couldn’t have left your mouth fast enough. You knew you would have time to process it all later, but in that moment there’s not a bone in your body that could have led you out of Joel’s bedroom. “You’re not together…”

Joel shook his head. “No. We haven’t lived together for three months, decided to officially call it quits right after Valentine’s Day.”

That’s really sad, you thought.

A part of you felt guilty. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Joel studied your features and then raised a hand up to touch your cheek before resting his palm there. You covered it with your own and kissed the heel of his hand. Watching Joel’s eyes close sent tingles down the length of your back.

“I haven’t done much of this in the last year,” he confessed in a voice just above a whisper. “I can’t get enough of you, baby. I forgot how much I missed it.”

When his hand moved to toy with your hair you moved back to him and left a single, closed-mouth kiss on his lips, letting it linger for an extra few seconds.

 Joel’s arm slunk around your lower back. "Come to bed," he urged.

You kissed him again and felt his eyes on you. For the first time you sensed his vulnerability. “Okay.”

***

Restless - that's how you felt that night in Joel's house. There was nowhere else you would have rather been, but even in dreams your subconscious willed you to the feelings of guilt and worry. You dreamed up some abstract version of Joel’s wife in your mind and it was ultimately the image that jolted you awake.

Your eyes snapped open, and you breathed heavily as you sat up in bed. A light sweat decorated your forehead and you glanced around the dark room. Next to you, Joel slept soundly and it calmed your nerves just a bit. He laid peacefully still on his side facing you. Even in the darkness he looked as good as ever, and watching him sleep gave him an angelic appearance that wholly complimented the fiery passion he’d brought into your life as of late.

You took a moment to admire him, noting to yourself that you might never see him in that near-perfect way again. The thought made your body feel heavy; your core feel numb. Still, you couldn't look away. You didn’t know what this newfound relationship actually was. Your next move was selfish, but you couldn’t help it.

"Joel..." you whispered his name and ran your hand across his stomach before resting it on his side.

You were aware that he had to be up for work early in the morning, and at that moment he slept so soundly. Still, the rush of emotion you felt from watching him lay there gnawed at you enough to wake him up.

"Joel."  You said his name a little louder this time and traced your hand up and down his bare torso.

He stirred in the darkness and sat up abruptly, looking around in all directions. "What?" Joel cleared his throat, still in a subconscious, delirious state. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair as he looked over at you.

"Nothing, I’m sorry, I.." You shook your head 

"Are you alright?" He took in your body language and then looked back up to meet your stare.

 You nodded. "Yeah..."

Joel's eyes moved side to side, reading deeper into your expression. Before he could take a guess at the two or three things that entered his mind,  You leaned in and kissed him.

When you pulled back briefly you immediately went back in for another, this time kissing him harder.

"I'm sorry," you whispered again against his lips as he finally reciprocated and pulled you back to him. "I know you have to wake up for work." The last word was smothered into his mouth as he grew more aggressive in his pursuit of you.

Joel moaned into your mouth and urged you completely on top of him. "You can wake me up any time," he whispered, guiding your face back to his.

You loved making out with Joel, especially as you had sex. With no barrier between the two of you, you straddled him and positioned yourself so he could easily slide up into you with a subtle lift of his hips.

Joel guided you back, securing his hands on the outsides of your hips as you sat upright on him. He moaned when you moved in the right way and stared up at you with sleepy, heavy eyes. "Go ahead honey," Joel bit down on his lower lip and his eyes finally closed when you jolted your hips forward.

Your fingertips dug into his chest as you pushed off of him, feeling every inch he had to offer as you moved in a consistent, fluid fashion on top of him. "God Joel..." The headboard slammed into the wall and you closed your eyes when you felt his hands grip your harder.

"Fuck, baby." Joel groaned as you carried on, allowing you to have full control for the first time. He bucked his hips up once, making you physically cry out as he launched up into you with extra force.

He repeated the motion again and again, holding you in place as he drilled you from below. Your fingers dug deep into the fronts of his shoulders now, you found yourself struggling to catch a breath in between moans. You couldn’t have controlled what you were feeling if you tried.

Joel roughly pulled your face down to his and your lips collided hard as he aggressively penetrated your lips with his tongue.

"I want you to come on my dick," Joel whispered into your mouth. He kissed you sloppily again and then laid flat, clutching your hips again as he continued to thrust into you from below.

You couldn't control yourself when his cock continued to pound the same spot inside of you. Each fluid movement he made left your body aching with pleasure and your thighs trembled from how tense your body was. 

“Don’t stop,” you choked out, pushing back off his chest again into an upright position.

When his hands reached up to engulf your breasts you covered them with your own, locking your fingers through his as you continued to ride him more forcefully.

"That's it." His aroused, husky whispers encouraged you to continue. Each heavy breath he let out let you know that what you were doing was effective for both of you.

Joel hummed your name now, dropping his hands from your breasts as he took in the image of you on top of him. "You're so fucking... " he moaned again to end the sentence and then felt the dominant part of him take over.

He sat upright, pulling your face to his and kissed you again. Joel’s force was needy and hungry. It left you groaning into his mouth.

Without warning he pulled out and pinned you on your back in the center of the bed. Without wasting a second, he re-entered you, pushing your knees apart as he began to fuck your harder. You whimpered and gripped the comforter, gasping his name as you clawed at his thighs.

Joel’s head fell back and he groaned in such a way that you were sure he was close. You felt it, too - the intensity; the build up.

His upper body collapsed onto you and Joel buried his face into the nook of your neck. Your mouth hung open when you felt his teeth graze your skin. "I'm going to..." you barely got the words out. "Joel..."

 Your eyes pressed shut harder when he moaned again. The sound of the headboard hitting the wall became louder and more consistent, urging him on as he never let up.

Again, an explosion of warm pleasure filtered through your body, and you knew that Joel could feel the pulsing sensation that ultimately milked his dick of everything he had to offer. He let it all out - panting, breathing, moaning. Joe’s body rocked on top of yours as he completely finished into you with a lengthy orgasm of his own.

You held onto him as his back heaved up and down. Joel swallowed hard and let out a final, quiet groan into your ear.

"Fuck, baby" He kept his face buried against you as you held him. "I don't think I'm going to ever get sick of fucking you like this."

You let out a deep breath and held onto him harder, shifting one hand up to cradle the back of his head. "That makes two of us."

He laid there for several minutes beneath you as you stroked the waves of his thick, brown hair. With each breath he seemed to come back down to earth a little more. When Joel finally lifted his head he kissed you once, letting his lips linger. With another breath, he pushed himself up off of you and laid on his back for a moment before blindly reaching across to the nightstand for his phone.

You watched him fiddle with the device for a moment and then smiled when he turned to you with a grin.

"I just set my alarm to wake up a half hour early," he informed you.

You pressed your eyebrows together but continued to smile. "How come?"

Joel set the phone down and then laid back down and let out several more breaths. "Because honey... every morning I wake up alone with my cock harder than a steel pipe.” He closed his eyes and let his hand fall lazily over his eyes.

What a visual. You snickered and sank into the pillow beside him and cuddled against his glistening body. Your knee curled up over his leg as you laid on your side with your arm around his waist. 

“I can give up a half hour of sleep if we can start the day just like this.” Joel was still breathing heavily as he spoke and draped an arm around you to bring you in closer.

That next morning when Joel’s phone went off you felt your heart race as you crossed over from the realm of dreams to reality. After the midnight romp you had initiated, you had slept soundly wrapped up in one another.

For a moment you had to decipher if you really were awake. Everything that had happened the night before could have easily passed for the sweetest and most erotic of dreams. When the repetitive sound coming from the night stand came to an abrupt stop, you glanced over and saw Joel fiddling with the phone's screen. He then set it down and turned to face you.

A smile formed on his face beneath a sleepy stare, and you felt the rush of butterflies that had been a constant feeling as of late. You could feel it in your chest that you were already starting to fall for him.

Joel's eyes never left yours as he tossed the covers away and held out a hand without saying a word.

You took in his naked body in the darkness as he stood without reservation waiting with a head of messy hair.

He wasn’t lying about the steel pipe. You maintained a sleepy smile, unable to even feel a bit self-conscious because of his own comfortability in his own skin. Joel always appeared both confident and amused, and those positive feelings projected themselves onto you. You reached a hand up and Joel eagerly pulled you out of bed, chuckling when you laughed from the force of his action. Immediately your lips connected.

You tried to keep the moment going but he parted from you after a few seconds and towed you by the hand toward the door.

"Where are we going?" you asked him.

Joel reached for the handle and pulled it open with his free hand. He glanced over his shoulder, still grinning. "I can't go into work smelling like I just fucked half the night." He raised his eyebrows with a boyish grin and flashed a wink, "And I'm guessing you wouldn't want to go home in that condition either."

He pushed open the partially open bathroom door and turned on the less intense of the two lights though both of you squinted.

Joel removed a set of towels from a small closet and then turned on the shower. "You, uh," he smiled and pointed, "Need a second one for your hair?"

You shrugged and then gave a subtle nod. He winked again and tossed the towel playfully in your direction, making you giggle.

Joel reached for your arm now, pulling your back to him and the two of you shared a laugh. Joel kissed you again, purposely letting his hands wander to all the right parts of your body in a teasing fashion as the water warmed up.

"Put your hands flat on the sink," Joel whispered into your ear before taking part in turning you around.

 You closed your eyes for a moment, anticipating him upping their intimacy. Your fingers tightened around the edge of the sink when you felt him enter you. When his hands slid up to cup your breasts, your eyes opened and you met his gaze in the mirror as he began to kiss up your neck toward your ear.

He thrusted once and your eyes almost closed, though you held his eye contact.

"Mmm..." Joel smiled wickedly when you grinned in the midst of the initial pleasure. He bit down on your earlobe as he thrusted gently into you, "Keep eye-fucking the shit out of me."

You couldn't look away now - not after he said that. He continued to fuck you, alternating between glancing down to take in your figure and regaining your stare in the mirror.

Steam began to filter into the bathroom as the water grew warmer. He let out a breath and covered your hands with his own on top of the vanity, kissing along your neck down to your shoulders as he did.

You both loved and hated when he grew more sensual in your embrace. Each time he kissed you gently or locked his fingers with yours, your feelings for him increased - like a thermometer indicating the temperature was getting hotter, only you didn’t know how to make it go down. 

"Come shower with me, honey." His teeth latched onto your earlobe again and he opened his eyes to meet your gaze in the mirror again.

You didn't want to separate yourself from him, though the thought of showering together was far too tempting to pass up.  You turned partway and kissed him several times in a row before Joel backed away and pulled the shower curtain to the side so the two of you could get in.

He reached for a bar of soap on the ledge and spun your around again, securing his arms around your and drawing the bar of soap across your breasts and down your stomach, gently caressing the areas as he lathered up your body.

You closed your eyes and focused on every action he took. It was all erotic and new. You had never had a sexual encounter that even came close to what you had experienced with Joel in just a few short days.  When his hands moved to your upper back, you shuddered and smiled, melting into him.

He dug his thumbs into your muscles, kneading the area upon placing the soap back down and then carefully encouraged you to bend over without stopping the sensual, soapy massage.

Joel slid back inside of you, watching as beads of water trailed the length of your back, dropping off at the curves of your hips. He kept his hands secured on your shoulders, continuing to dig his fingers into the muscles of your upper back as he picked up from where you left off in front of the mirror.

"God Joel..."  Your hands fell flat against the wet square tiles on the wall. It immediately triggered the memory of your first night together in the bathroom at the bar. You let out a breath, feeling like you were injected with some type of drug. The warmth of the water crashing down on the two of you, the feel of his hands as they kneaded the tense muscles in your back and the perfectly matched pace of him thrusting into you made your legs begin to shake. Each time you felt like you'd been hit with the most pleasurable experience of your life, Joel did something else to surpass the time before.

When he abruptly stopped you turned your head in an attempt to make eye contact with him, though his eyes were closed and his jaw clenched. A smile crossed your face when you recognized his inability to control himself and you were tempted to force him to continue to get some self-gratification that you held some type of power over him the way he did with you.

Instead, you reached for the soap and turned around, finally making his eyes snap open.

"Give me a fuckin' minute." He swallowed hard, but managed a small, painful smile and watched as you began to draw the soap across his chest. Joel re-closed his eyes allowed you to continue as you returned the favor, soaping him up and massaging for a few seconds before reaching below his waist.

 You smiled to herself again, taking in his features.

"Easy there, baby." Joel didn't smile this time. His jaw tensed again and he reached for your arm, tightening his fingers around your wrist as you began to have your way with him. He slowly forced your hand away and caught the other one when you attempted to grab a hold of him again. Joel chuckled and let his eyes flicker open partway, "You ain't gonna get yours if you keep doing that."

"I don't care."  You perched herself up onto your toes and pressed your lips to his once.

"I do." He tipped his mouth up in a smirk. "I like making a woman come."

"Well maybe you've met your match Joel."  You winked at him this time and Joel laughed a little louder.

"I think you're fuckin' right. I'm about to blow my load after two minutes like I'm fuckin' sixteen."

You laughed again, pleased to know what you did to him and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and kissed him partially beneath the warm water.

Joel moaned into your mouth and picked you up by the backs of your legs, planting your back against the wall so you sat in his hands.

You shuddered from the cool feel of the tiles in the midst of the steam and the heat and locked your legs around his waist as he easily entered you again.

"This isn't going to fuckin' take much," he whispered into your mouth, kissing your again with a hard enthusiasm.

"It's okay," you gasped the words out.

Joel secured his mouth to his, aggressively pursuing your tongue and your body at once.

You held his wet body tightly against yours and lived vigorously in the moment as you had been for days. When you felt that he was close you decided to match the demands he often whispered in your ear during your love-making.

You broke off the kiss to let your lips caress the center of his ear. "Let it out," you whispered, clutching a fistful of his wet, dark hair as you did.

Joel felt a surge of arousal and he couldn't deny her; not in the heat of the moment.

I've definitely met my fuckin' match, he thought.

CLICK HERE FOR PART 5

@pedropascal111 @axshadows @smolbeanszz @mybritishstyle @untamedheart81 @pedroswife69

[teamatsumu]

kinktober 2023 -> day 3

phone sex - oikawa tooru x reader

word count: 1,061

kinktober masterlist

The hallway was alive with chatter, and you were sure you would have missed your phone ringing in the noise if it wasn’t already in your hand. You frowned at the contact name, confused why your boyfriend was calling you. According to your calculations, it was almost midnight in Argentina right now, so why was he awake?

“Tooru?” You answered, using a finger to plug your other ear so you could hear him better over the noise of the students crowding your university hallways. You could barely make out shuffling on the other end of the line, before Oikawa’s familiar voice broke through.

“Heyyyy.” He whined, immediately following it with a giggle. You rolled your eyes and felt your lip twitch with amusement.

“Tooru, why are you still up?” You hiked your bag higher on your shoulder as you made your way through the halls. “You have practice tomorrow.”

You heard a thud on the line, followed by a curse. “I missed you, Y/N-chan~”

Oh. You sighed when the realization hit you. “Are you drunk?”

“No!” Came the instant reply. “Only a little tipsy.”

You bit back a laugh at how indignant he sounded. There was another thud and another curse, this time in Spanish, and your lips twitched in amusement.

“You okay there, champ?” You teased, almost imagining Oikawa stumbling around his home.

“‘M just tryna get out of these damn clothes.” He mumbled, before you heard another soft thump and a relieved sigh.

“Finally in bed?” You asked. “Get some rest now.”

“Nooo..” Oikawa trailed off. “Talk to me. I miss you.”

You sighed. “You need to get up super early tomorrow, baby. And I know you’re tired. You need to sleep.”

“I miss your face.” Oikawa continued talking, as if he hadn’t even heard you. You weren’t surprised. Sober Oikawa was hard enough to deal with, drunk Oikawa was insufferable.

“If you were here, I would cuddle you.” He rambled on. “You’d feel so good against me right now. Y’know I’m completely naked? Bet you’d be naked too if you were here. God, I’d just dip my fingers into your pussy to see how we-”

“Tooru!” You yelled, eyes nearly popping out of your head at how the conversation (one-sided as it was) took a turn. You cursed internally when a few people turned around to look at you at the noise, frantically looking around for a more private place. You ducked into the door which said ‘restroom’ on it, mere feet away from where you were standing. The noise from the hall faded away.

“What the hell?” You continued, walking closer to the sinks, relieved that the bathroom was empty.

“I’m horny!” Your boyfriend whined on the other end.

“Well, I can’t do anything about that right now!” You snapped, checking the stalls to see that they were also thankfully empty.

“Yes you can!” He shot back. “C’mon, tell me what you’re wearing.”

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. This fucker. “I’m at uni, Tooru. Be serious.”

“Please, baby.” He whined again, though this time it was more breathy. Your eyes widened when you realized he was probably touching himself. “‘M so hard. And it’s been so long. God, I miss your body. I miss your voice.”

You felt yourself clench at the thought of Tooru running his hand over himself right now. You looked around at the completely empty bathroom, biting your lip in contemplation. Were you really going to do this?

One more image of Oikawa laid out naked and turned on, of his glorious body and roughed up chestnut hair, was enough for you to make your decision.

“Okay.” You breathed out. “Hold on.”

You rushed to lock the bathroom door, moving into a stall and locking that too for extra measure. “Fuck, okay.”

“Talk to me.” You heard him on the other end, almost begging. You sighed and pushed your hand into your pants, biting your lip when your fingers brushed your clit. This was going to be quick and messy, you could already tell.

“I’m,” you gulped. “I’m touching myself.”

A groan. “Yeah?” He sounded so wrecked already. God. You realized in that moment how badly you had missed him too.

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Touching my clit. Feels good.”

Oikawa cursed. “Keep going, baby. Push down harder. Then put a finger inside.”

You followed his instructions, allowing yourself to let out a little moan at the feeling of being filled, albeit only slightly.

“God, I can imagine you right now.” Oikawa rambled on, and you could almost hear the sound of his hand moving, slightly wet, probably from the precum. “Bet you’re already soaking for me, aren’t you? Bet you miss my cock.”

“I do!” You whined, now fully immersed and overcome with pleasure, sliding another finger inside your hole. “‘S not the same, Tooru. Miss your big cock. Miss being filled to the brim.”

“S-shit, baby.” His voice sounded so broken, and it pushed you even closer to the edge. “I miss your pussy all the time. Can’t wait to get back and fuck you until you can’t walk. God, I’m gonna ruin you. Just let me come back. Let me come back.”

His ramblings were getting nonsensical, but his voice was wrecked and you moaned at the sound, your orgasm building far quicker than you anticipated, your movement growing frantic.

“Tooru, I’m so close.”

“M-me too. Fuck. C’mon baby, come all over your fingers like a good girl. You do that and I’ll give you my cock when I get back. I’ll fuck you five different ways. Just come for me right now, Y/N. Come.”

You moaned as your orgasm finally hit, letting Oikawa talk you through it with his silver tongue. You listened as he announced his own release, getting off on the sound of his curses and broken groans and using them to prolong your own orgasm. By the time you were done, you were sweaty and out of breath.

All was silent for a few minutes as you readjusted your clothes, putting your phone to your ear once again and not hearing anything except Oikawa’s steady breathing. You nearly snorted.

Bastard fell asleep immediately after cumming. Figures.

You dropped him a goodnight text before ending the call, unlocking the door and going about your way as if nothing had happened in the bathroom stall.

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartzz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi i @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

[callsigns-haze]

His Shadow: Chp 2

masterlist part 1

Azriel, secretly juggling his responsibilities and personal life, maintains a hidden relationship with YN, who works at a pleasure house in the Hewn City. She was his light, his love, his passion. Yet being his darkest secret is a hard role because life in the Hewn as a young female isn't the easiest as the two of you hold an even dark secret yet to be told...

Pairing: Azriel x reader

This series contains mature themes: Explicit depictions of violence, including physical and emotional. Themes of secrecy. Descriptions of difficult relationships, including strained familial and romantic dynamics. Mature sexual content. Themes of power, control, and manipulation within complex interpersonal relationships. Discussions of parenthood and the challenges associated with it, including postpartum experiences.

The night had been peaceful, at least for the first few hours. Azriel had held YN close as they lay in the bed, Knox nestled in the small bassinet beside them. For a brief moment, everything in the world felt right—no shadows, no dangers lurking in the dark, just the quiet comfort of his family.

But as the hours ticked by, the reality of parenthood made itself known.

At two in the morning, Knox stirred in his sleep, his tiny whimpers quickly escalating into a full-blown cry. Azriel was on his feet in an instant, moving with the kind of speed that would have impressed even Cassian. He scooped Knox up in his arms, gently rocking him while YN tried to catch a few more moments of sleep.

Azriel whispered soothing words, his voice low and calming as he walked back and forth across the small room, Knox gradually settling in his arms. The infant eventually drifted back to sleep, but the peace was short-lived.

By four in the morning, Knox was awake again, this time with more insistence. Azriel rose once more, his movements slower this time, the exhaustion starting to creep in. YN tried to take over, but Azriel shook his head, determined to give her as much rest as possible.

He changed Knox’s diaper, a task he was still getting used to, and then fed him while humming a quiet lullaby. It took nearly an hour to get the baby back to sleep, and by then, the night had blurred into a haze of half-remembered moments.

When Knox finally settled down around five in the morning, Azriel fell back into bed, his body heavy with fatigue. YN curled up beside him, her hand resting on his chest, her breathing soft and even. Azriel’s eyes drifted shut, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to surrender to sleep.

But sleep did not last nearly as long as he needed it to.

At some point, the dim light of dawn began to filter through the curtains, and Azriel stirred slightly, aware of the passing time but too exhausted to fully wake. The room was quiet, blessedly quiet, as Knox remained asleep in his bassinet, giving his parents a much-needed reprieve.

It wasn’t until the first rays of sunlight touched his face that Azriel’s eyes snapped open. He blinked, disoriented, his mind sluggish as he tried to remember where he was. It took him a moment to process the silence—Knox wasn’t crying, YN was still asleep beside him, and the world outside was calm.

But then his thoughts cleared, and with them came a sudden, sharp realization: he had a meeting with Rhys at eight.

Azriel bolted upright, his heart pounding as he glanced at the small clock on the bedside table. 9:07 AM. The numbers stared back at him, mocking his shock.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, scrambling out of bed.

His sudden movement woke YN, who blinked up at him sleepily. “Az?” she murmured, her voice thick with exhaustion. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m late,” he replied, pulling on his pants with quick, jerky movements. “I was supposed to meet Rhys an hour ago at the River House.”

YN sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Azriel, it’s okay. He’ll understand.”

Azriel wasn’t so sure. Rhysand was many things, but he was also the High Lord, and punctuality was not something he took lightly. Still, the thought of explaining why he had overslept made Azriel’s stomach twist with anxiety. He didn’t want to lie, but he also couldn’t tell the truth—not yet.

He yanked on his shirt, hastily buttoning it as he searched the room for his boots. “Dammit, where are they?” he muttered, scanning the floor until he spotted them half-hidden under the bed. He dropped to his knees, grabbing them and shoving his feet inside without bothering to tie the laces.

YN watched him with a mix of concern and amusement, her expression softening as she saw the dark circles under his eyes. “Azriel, breathe,” she said gently, reaching out to touch his arm as he fumbled with his belt. “You can’t help being late. Knox had us both up all night.”

Azriel paused, looking at her, his heart aching with the desire to stay, to crawl back into bed and hold her and Knox close. But duty called, and he couldn’t ignore it. “I know,” he said quietly, his voice strained. “But I still have to go.”

YN nodded, understanding in her eyes. “Go, then. We’ll be here when you get back.”

Azriel leaned down and kissed her, a brief but tender touch of his lips against hers. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promised, brushing a hand over Knox’s tiny head as the baby slept on, oblivious to his father’s rush.

With one last look at his family, Azriel grabbed his jacket and slipped out the door, his wings snapping open the moment he was outside. He launched himself into the air, the cool morning wind hitting his face as he flew at breakneck speed toward the River House.

His mind raced along with his heart, running through excuses, apologies, anything he could say to explain his tardiness without revealing the truth. But deep down, he knew nothing could truly justify the lateness—not in Rhysand’s eyes, and certainly not in his own.

But as he approached the River House, Azriel’s heart sank. Cassian was pacing on the balcony, his wings twitching with barely-contained frustration, while Rhysand stood with his arms crossed, his expression a mix of irritation and concern. The moment Azriel landed, he could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating.

“You’re late,” Rhysand said flatly, his tone giving nothing away, though his purple eyes told another story—one of anger and disappointment.

Cassian didn’t hold back. “Damn it, Az,” he snapped, his voice rough with frustration. “You’ve never been late for anything. What the hell is going on?”

Azriel straightened, trying to keep his expression neutral even as his heart raced. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice calm despite the turmoil inside him. “Something came up.”

Rhysand’s eyes narrowed, his frustration clear. “Something came up? Azriel, you’ve been distracted for weeks. You’re barely sleeping, you’re avoiding our questions, and now this?” He shook his head, the disappointment palpable. “If you’re dealing with something, you need to tell us. We’re supposed to be brothers, we do not keep secrets from each other.”

Azriel swallowed, the weight of his secret feeling heavier than ever. He opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat.

What could he say?

That the love of his life and his newborn son were hidden away in the Hewn City, a place he’d kept secret from everyone he cared about? That YN’s connection to the Hewn City’s pleasure homes was a burden he couldn’t share, even with his closest friends?

But instead of revealing the truth, Azriel shook his head, his voice tight with the lie. “I can’t explain it right now,” he said, avoiding their eyes. “But I’ll handle it.”

Cassian let out a harsh breath, clearly unsatisfied. “Az, we’re not asking you to spill your guts. But this isn’t like you. We can’t afford to have you slipping up, especially not now.”

Rhysand’s gaze softened slightly, though the frustration lingered. “We care about you, Azriel. But if you keep this up, it’s going to start affecting more than just you. We need you at your best, not half here and half somewhere else.”

Azriel nodded, the guilt clawing at him. “I understand,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with the weight of his secret. “It won’t happen again.”

The silence that followed was thick with tension, but Rhysand finally nodded, though his eyes were still sharp with concern. “See that it doesn’t,” he said, his voice softer but no less serious. “And Azriel… whatever it is, make sure it doesn’t consume you.”

Azriel forced a small nod, the words echoing in his mind long after the meeting began. He tried to focus on the discussion, tried to bury the guilt and exhaustion that clung to him like a shadow.

But even as the meeting continued, the memory of YN and Knox, sleeping peacefully in that small, hidden apartment, stayed with him, a reminder of the life he was desperately trying to keep from unravelling.

---

By the time Azriel returned home that evening, he was utterly drained. The day had been relentless, a blur of meetings, briefings, and strained interactions with Rhysand and Cassian.

Despite his best efforts to focus, his mind had constantly drifted back to YN and Knox, the image of them alone in that hidden apartment gnawing at his thoughts. Every moment away from them felt like a thousand tiny blades digging into his heart, each one reminding him of the life he was trying so desperately to keep in balance.

As he landed lightly on the roof of the building in the Hewn City, the familiar darkness of the alley below closing around him, he felt the exhaustion in his bones. His wings ached, his mind buzzed with fatigue, and all he wanted was to hold YN and their son, to let their presence be the balm for his weariness.

He made his way up the narrow stairs to their apartment, each step heavier than the last. The worn wooden door creaked softly as he pushed it open, the dim light inside greeting him. The moment he entered, he heard the soft, desperate cries of Knox.

YN was in the middle of the room, swaying gently as she tried to soothe their son. Her eyes were tired, her movements sluggish, and the dark circles under her eyes mirrored the exhaustion Azriel felt deep in his soul. She looked up as he entered, a small, weary smile playing on her lips despite the fatigue that clung to her.

“Hey,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper so as not to disturb Knox further. “Rough day?”

Azriel nodded, his heart aching as he took in the sight of her struggling to calm Knox. “You could say that,” he replied, his voice rough from the day’s strain. He walked over to them, gently taking Knox from her arms. The baby’s cries softened as Azriel held him, his strong arms cradling his son with a tenderness that belied his warrior’s exterior.

For a moment, everything felt right again. The feel of Knox’s tiny body against his chest, the warmth of YN’s presence beside him—it was everything he had fought for, everything he wanted to protect. But then his gaze drifted to the chair beside YN, and the brief comfort he had found quickly evaporated.

Draped across the back of the chair were YN’s clothes for tomorrow: a black satin cowl neck crop tank top, dark navy jewelled shorts, and a pair of black heel sock boots. The sight of them was like a punch to the gut, a stark reminder of the reality they were living in.

The outfit was for her return to the pleasure house—a place he loathed with every fibber of his being, a place she was forced to return to far too soon after giving birth. The thought of her having to go back there, of the way the lords of the Hewn City controlled her fate, made his blood boil.

His jaw tightened as he looked at the clothes, a flare of anger and frustration surging through him. He hated it. Hated that this was the life she had to return to, hated that she had just given birth and was still expected to fulfil her duties in the pleasure house. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.

YN noticed his gaze and sighed softly, stepping closer to him. “Azriel…”

He turned to her, his eyes dark with the storm brewing inside him. “You shouldn’t have to go back there,” he said, his voice low and edged with anger. “Not after everything you’ve been through. Not so soon.”

“I know,” she replied, her voice heavy with resignation. “But I don’t have a choice. The lords… they don’t care about that. They want me back, and if I don’t go, it could make things worse for us. For Knox.”

The mention of their son tightened the knot of anger in his chest, but it also brought with it a sense of helplessness that he hated. Azriel was used to fighting battles, to facing enemies head-on.

But this… this was a battle he couldn’t fight with steel or shadows. It was a battle against a system, against the twisted rules of the Hewn City, and it made him feel powerless.

He looked down at Knox, his son’s tiny face peaceful now as he slept in his arms. Azriel’s heart ached with the desire to protect him, to protect YN, to shield them from everything that threatened to harm them. But how could he do that when the very world they lived in was stacked against them?

YN reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Azriel, I hate it too. But this is the life we have right now. And as much as I wish things were different, we have to do what we can to keep Knox safe. To keep us safe.”

Azriel closed his eyes, the weight of her words pressing down on him. She was right. As much as it tore him apart, they had to play by the rules of the Hewn City—for now, at least. But that didn’t mean he had to accept it without a fight.

“I’m going to find a way,” he said, his voice firm despite the exhaustion pulling at him. “I’m going to find a way to get you out of there. To get us out of here.”

YN’s eyes softened, a flicker of hope in their depths. “I know you will,” she said quietly. “But until then, we just have to hold on. For Knox.”

Azriel nodded, his resolve hardening. He would do whatever it took, endure whatever he had to, to protect his family. But as he looked at the clothes on the chair, a bitter taste filled his mouth. He knew that tomorrow, YN would put on that black satin top, those jewelled pants, those heels, and return to the life she hated. And there was nothing he could do to stop it—not yet.

But when he looked back at YN—exhausted, her shoulders slumped with the weight of their situation—his focus shifted. She needed him, perhaps now more than ever.

He turned to her, seeing not only the fatigue in her eyes but the emotional strain etched into her very being. Her body had been through so much, and yet she was expected to push through, to return to a life she had never wanted but had been forced into by the twisted politics of the Hewn City. The sight of her standing there, trying so hard to be strong, broke something inside him.

"You should take a bath," Azriel said softly, his voice gentle but firm. He shifted Knox slightly, the baby snug in his arms. "I’ll handle him."

YN hesitated, glancing at Knox and then back at Azriel, her expression torn. “Az, you’ve had a long day. I can manage—”

"No." Azriel’s voice was soft but resolute, cutting through her protest. He stepped closer, brushing a thumb over her cheek. "You need it, YN. You’ve been carrying so much, and you haven’t had a moment to yourself. Let me take care of him. Please."

She stared up at him, her eyes filling with emotion—gratitude, exhaustion, and a hint of relief. She was always trying to shoulder more than she should, always putting Knox and him first. But right now, she needed to rest, to let herself unwind, if only for a little while.

YN sighed, her shoulders finally sagging as she relented. “Okay,” she whispered, giving him a tired smile. “But only if you’re sure.”

Azriel smiled back, though it was tinged with sadness. “I’m sure.” He gently rocked Knox, who was still dozing in his arms. “I’ve got him. You go take a bath, relax for a bit.”

She nodded, though she still looked reluctant to leave. With one last glance at Knox, YN moved toward the small washroom attached to their apartment. The sound of water running filled the air a few moments later, a faint comfort as Azriel stood there with their son.

The apartment was quiet again, save for the occasional soft gurgle from Knox. Azriel sat down in a worn chair by the small hearth, cradling his son in his arms. The baby’s tiny hand curled around one of Azriel’s fingers, his grip surprisingly strong for someone so small.

Azriel couldn’t help but marvel at the life they had created together, the love he felt for this tiny being so fierce it almost scared him. Knox was barely two weeks old, and already Azriel felt a protectiveness that surpassed anything he had ever known. He had fought in countless wars, faced endless dangers, but nothing compared to the way he would fight for this little boy.

As Knox stirred slightly, his eyelids fluttering but not quite opening, Azriel smiled. He continued to rock him gently, humming softly under his breath, a lullaby his mother used to sing to him—a memory long buried, brought to the surface by the presence of his own child.

“You’re safe, little one,” Azriel whispered, his voice barely audible. “You and your mother… I’ll keep you both safe.”

She didn’t deserve the life she was forced to live, and Knox certainly didn’t deserve to grow up with those shadows hanging over them. Azriel would make sure of that.

The soft splash of water in the washroom signalled that YN was settling into the bath. He hoped it would help ease some of her tension, even if just for a little while. She deserved more than a few minutes of peace—she deserved a life free of the burden that the Hewn City placed on her. But for now, this was the best he could offer.

Knox let out a small whimper, his tiny face scrunching up as if he were about to cry. Azriel quickly adjusted him, bouncing him lightly in his arms. “Shhh,” he murmured, his voice soothing. “It’s okay, little one. I’m right here.”

The baby calmed almost immediately, as if sensing the steady presence of his father. Azriel chuckled softly, marvelling at how something so small could bring him to his knees. Knox was a miracle, a bright light in the darkness of the world they lived in, and Azriel was determined to shield him from everything that could harm him.

He glanced toward the closed door of the washroom, the sound of water still audible. YN deserved this moment—this brief reprieve from the weight of their reality. Azriel knew she would never complain, never ask for more, but that only made him want to give her everything.

For a long while, Azriel sat there in the quiet of the apartment, holding Knox close, feeling the warmth of the fire and the weight of his own thoughts. Tomorrow would come too quickly, and with it, the reality that YN would have to return to the life she hated. But for tonight, he would make sure she rested, that she felt loved and cared for. Because even in the shadows of the Hewn City, they had built something beautiful. And Azriel would fight to protect that beauty with everything he had.

As Knox finally settled into a deep sleep, Azriel stood and carried him to the bassinet beside the bed. He carefully laid the baby down, tucking him in with the soft blanket YN had made before he was born.

When YN finally emerged from the washroom, her skin flushed from the warmth of the bath, her hair damp, she looked more relaxed than she had in days. Azriel turned to her, a small, tired smile on his face.

"Feeling better?" he asked softly.

She nodded, her eyes soft as she walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Thank you," she whispered, resting her head against his chest.

Azriel held her close, his chin resting on the top of her head. "You don’t have to thank me," he said quietly, brushing a hand over her back. "You needed it."

YN sighed, the tension finally leaving her body as she melted into his embrace. For a few moments, they simply stood there, holding each other, drawing comfort from the quiet of the evening and the knowledge that, for now, they were safe.

---

The soft warmth of the apartment wrapped around them like a comforting blanket. The fire in the hearth crackled quietly, casting a gentle glow over the room. Azriel stood with YN in his arms, her head resting against his chest, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to fall away.

But exhaustion tugged at his every muscle, the long day and sleepless night before catching up with him. YN could feel the tension in his body, the way his arms, though strong and steady, trembled ever so slightly from fatigue. She pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, her eyes filled with concern.

"You look like you’re about to pass out, Az," she said softly, reaching up to brush a lock of dark hair away from his forehead. Her touch was gentle, soothing, but there was a firmness in her tone that told him she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Azriel smiled down at her, though the smile was tinged with weariness. "I’m fine," he replied, his voice soft but still edged with the determination that had carried him through countless battles. "I can handle it."

But YN wasn’t convinced. She could see the dark circles under his eyes, the heaviness in his gaze. He had been running on fumes for days, pushing himself beyond his limits, all for her and Knox. And as much as she loved him for it, she knew he needed rest—needed it desperately.

"You’ve been handling everything, Az," she said, her voice tender but insistent. "But you need to rest. Let me take care of Knox tonight. You’ve done more than enough."

Azriel opened his mouth to protest, but the look in her eyes stopped him. There was a determination there that he couldn’t argue with—a quiet strength that had nothing to do with physical power and everything to do with the love she felt for him and their son.

He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as the exhaustion finally began to take its toll. "Are you sure?" he asked, though he already knew her answer.

YN nodded, her expression softening as she cupped his cheek with one hand. "I’m sure," she said gently. "You’ve been taking care of both of us, Az. Let me take care of you tonight."

He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes for a moment as the warmth of her hand seeped into his skin. It was hard for him to let go, to relinquish the responsibility he felt so deeply. But he trusted YN—trusted her more than anyone in the world. If she said she could handle it, then he believed her.

"Alright," he finally whispered, opening his eyes to meet hers. "But if you need me, you wake me up. Promise?"

"I promise," she said, smiling softly at him. "Now come on, let’s get you to bed before you fall asleep on your feet."

Azriel chuckled, though it was a low, tired sound. He allowed YN to lead him to the bed, his steps heavy with the weight of the day. The bed was a small, simple thing, but it had become a haven for them in the midst of the chaos of their lives. As they approached, Azriel glanced down at Knox, who was still sleeping peacefully in the bassinet beside the bed. The sight of his son’s tiny chest rising and falling with each breath brought a sense of calm to his weary mind.

YN pulled back the covers, and Azriel slipped out of his boots and jacket, leaving them on the floor beside the bed. He climbed in, the mattress creaking slightly under his weight, and let out a long, relieved sigh as his body sank into the softness.

YN slid in beside him, the warmth of her body immediately soothing his frayed nerves. She turned to face him, propping herself up on one elbow so she could look down at him. Her fingers brushed over his forehead, pushing back the strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes.

"Get some sleep, Az," she whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his temple. "I’ve got everything under control."

Azriel reached up, taking her hand in his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice heavy with the exhaustion that was finally beginning to take over. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

"You’ll never have to find out," she replied, smiling down at him. "Now close your eyes. I’ll take care of Knox tonight. You just rest."

He nodded, his eyelids already growing heavy. He let his eyes close, the darkness of sleep pulling at him, but not before he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I love you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"I love you too," YN replied, her voice soft and filled with all the warmth he needed.

Within moments, Azriel was asleep, his breathing deep and even as his body finally gave in to the rest it so desperately needed. YN watched him for a long moment, her heart swelling with love and admiration for the male beside her. He had done so much for her, for their son, and now it was her turn to take care of him.

Carefully, she slipped out of bed, moving as quietly as she could so as not to disturb him. She checked on Knox, who was still sleeping soundly, his little face peaceful and content. YN smiled down at him, her heart aching with love for this tiny life they had created together.

She knew the night would be long, that Knox would wake up hungry and need to be fed and soothed. But as she looked back at Azriel, asleep and finally at peace, she felt a renewed strength within her. She would do this for him, for their family.

Let me know if you'd wish to be tagged! Comments and reblogs are really appreciated!

[essjujutsu]

EVERYTHING I WANT

WITH: satoru gojo x reader

⤷ during his first year at jujutsu tech—satoru gojo makes an impulsive purchase, a polaroid camera. captivated by the fun of instant photography, he sees it as a way to capture fleeting moments in a world. years later he looks back at his favorite photos, the ones of you. . ݁₊ . ˖ .

TAGS: fem! reader, best friends to lovers(?), fluff!!! and angst....sorry, may be ooc, manga spoilers ! , switching povs, language, timelines/years may be wrong, not proofread, roof scene ib fruits basket , header made by me :p, song! word count : 5k

APRIL 2005: ( gojo's pov )

it was almost two am—satoru knew he really shouldn't be sneaking out when he's only been at jujutsu tech for a week and a half, but his old habit from when he was at home picked right back up.

that's why he was standing outside the closest convenience store. he probably looked really starange, his hands tucked into his hoodie pocket, the hood pulled over his head—sunglasses hiding his eyes. the neon light from the sign cast a bright glow, lighting up the street.

back when he was still living at the gojo estate in kyoto, he found himself sneaking out almost every night—it was his escape from his family, servants, training, the pressure, everything really. he was sheltered his whole life, and he really hoped when he got to jujutsu tech things would be different. maybe he could even make friends.

unfortanly, he wasn't sure if his classmates had the same idea.

he had met his three classmates the second day he was on campus. he expected them to fawn over him, the satoru gojo—inheritor of the famous six eyes. though to his surprise, they seemed to not care.

he had met them all in yaga's classroom. the other boy there, suguru geto looked distinctly annoyed at him—maybe it was because he was "late" but he was only twenty minutes late! the next face he met was shoko leiri, a girl that really seemed like she had a smoking addiction—and she seemed really bored, as if she was on the brink of dying from boredom.

lastly, you. you were looking at him like being there for one more minute was going to make you completely lose it—and that him stepping into the room only intenified that feeling.

so that was why he was alone in the back of the dimly lit connivence store, the flickering overhead lights casting a harsh glow against the snack isle he was in. he ran his hand down the shelves, picking up a bag of candy. he approached the checkout, noticing the cluttered impulce-buy section on the counter—though there was something that caught his eye, a discounted polaroid camera.

"is this all for today...?"

the half-awake cashier asked him, glancing at him—her voice barley rising above the hum of the stores lights.

"uh, yeah. i'll take this too."

he replied, grabbing the camera and placing it ontop of his snacks on the counter.

he his card into the reader, paying for his items and taking the plastic bag the cashier gave him. he exited the building, taking in the breeze of toyko at night. the city was still alive with the distant sounds of chatter and traffic.

he went over and sat down on the curb, the pavement cool beneath him. he carefully pulled out his new impulsively bought camera.

he tried to figure out how to work it, playfully pressing random buttons untill a shutter noice came out, followed by the whir of the camera as a photo began to print out. the anticipation hung in the air as he waited for the image to come out, excited to see what he had captured, even if it was an accident.

the photograph wasn't anything good, afterall it was just his shoes and the pavement beneth him. yet the thrill of taking it—taking a memory and capturing it forever sent a rush of excitement through him, and made him wonder what else he would use it for.

AUGEST 2006:

snap!

you quickly turned your head as you heard the faint noice in the distance, with a quick motion—you removed the headphones from your ipod, letting them dangle around your neck as you looked to see where the noise came from.

"yn! come here often?"

satoru emerged from the trees, his tall figure framed by the sunlight as he came up to join you on the hidden bench you sat on.

"how did you find this spot?" you asked, curiosity filling your voice.

"thought nobody on campus knew about it—that's why i come here."

as you spoke, your gaze drifted to what he held in his hand—a polaroid camera. it must have been the source of the noise that had caught your attention.

"was just snapping some pictures and heard someone up here, whatcha listening to?"

you shifted a bit on the bench—creating just enough space for him to settle in beside you. you gave him one of the wired airbuds you had connected to your ipod.

when you first arrived at jujutsu tech last year, your initial impression of satoru gojo was far from flattering. you found him annoying, spoiled, and arrogant which really got on your nerves. but slowly but surley you deicded he wasn't that bad, you saw moments of humor and warmth—and maybe he wasn’t so unbearable after all.

and it seemed suguru and shoko agreed with that aswell. together, the four of you created a fun dynamic, a blend of personalities that complemented one another in different ways.

you stole a sideways glance at the boy sitting next to you, mazzy star playing softly in your headphones. you've always seen him with that camera—a lot this year. he snapped photos of the new first years, shoko, suguru (against his will), and you—a lot of you, he said you were photogenic.

gojo reached his hand down into his pocket, pulling out a few photos he had taken since the school year had started.

he laughed, "look at nanami's face in this one."

he held up the photo, and you couldn't help but laugh. one of the first years—nanami. his brow was furrowed, eyes narrowed, and a look of annoyance was directed at gojo.

that summer, gojo seemed to never stop taking pictues. whether it was making late-night convenience store runs after class—the neon lights reflecting off his carefree grin or weekends spent at the arcade. even on missions, satoru was seen taking seflies on his flip phone or off-guard pictures of his teammates mid-fight.

after that day he found you on the bench, you found yourself getting closer to the white-haired boy. you weren't sure why exactlly, maybe it was the "satoru gojo charm" he often boasted about, a charisma that seemed to weave its way into your thoughts. or maybe, as you spent more time together, you realized you were genuinely liking him more than you thought was possible.

a late night, a few days before he left on the star plasam vessel mission with geto—you found yourself hanging out with him in his dorm.

he was rummaging through his desk drawer while you layed on his bed. you weren't sure what he was trying to find exactly, he haden't really mentioned his mission yet—but you were sure he was confident about it, he always was.

after a moment of digging, he proudly pulled out his camera, now with a playful array of stickers that reflected his personality, bright colors, quirky designs—and little reminders of past memories. he held it up with a smile.

"smile!"

he called out to you, his voice light and teasing, leaving you confused and unprepared for what was coming next. just as you turned your head, the sharp click of the polaroid camera snapped to life, capturing you in a candid moment that took you by surprise—catching you off-guard in a way that made him giggle and you be playfully annyoed.

"gojo, you ass! i wasn't ready!"

"firstly, its satoru—you know that! and secondly, its funny and i'm keeping it in my wallet while me and suguru go on this mission."

he teased, coming over and jumping on the bed beside you, the dim lighting creating a cozy atsmophere in the room. it was defitnly past curfew and you should deftinly be in your own dorm by now—but you didn't care at the moment.

"don't you worry, i'll call you!"

"yeah, yeah, whatever satoru. i wasn't worried."

SEPTEMBER 2007 :

satoru did call you, he called you the night he was in okinawa.

he seemed happy, said the mission was going well and that they were having fun in okinawa—you didn't worry too much, after all it was satoru, what's the worst that could happen?

that was untill they returned though. it seemed...fine at first, though you heard that the mission didn't end well somehow—something about a assassian? satoru didn't want to talk about it, he changed the subject every time it was brought up. and suguru was distant, he was diffrent too.

a year after that mission, everything was diffrent.

one of your underclassmen, haibara had passed away during a mission. everyone was hurt, you had never really lost someone like that before and it stung.

it was autumn when suguru did the unthinkable, he had murdered an entire village of 112 people. you were with satoru when yaga let the two of you know about the situation at hand. he instructed satoru to kill his best friend. you saw the look on his face—you both knew deep down he couldn't do it. shoko had been the one to originally find him, leaving you at the school.

you were never that good at comforting people. you rembered the night haibara died, standing next to nanami outside the school, the cold air biting at your skin. you placed a hand on his stiff shoulder, trying to offer some help as you whispered that it would be okay, even though you both knew the weight of the moment felt anything but.

you, satoru and shoko handled things differently. shoko was distant, you could tell she didn't get enough sleep—dark circles starting to form underneath her eyes. you, on the other hand, threw yourself into work, overloading your schedule with training sessions and missions—trying to distract your mind. and satoru, satoru pretended he was okay, you knew he wasn't though.

a few weeks after everything happened, you found yourself going to satoru's dorm in the middle of the night, well past curfew. you knew he always left it unlocked—a promice he made for you in your first year, in-case you couldn't sleep. though when you stepped in, his bed was empty. you knew there was only one other place he could be, the school roof.

you snuck outside, finding the old rusty ladder near the dorm building. the metal felt cold against your fingers as you climbed. when you finally reached the roof, a quiet stillness enveloped you. there was satoru, layed out on the cool surface, his white hair catching the glow of the stars above that he was watching.

"thought i might find you here."

you murmured softly, your voice barely breaking the quiet of the night as you stood near him. with slow steps, you walked closer, the breeze rustling your hair. each step felt heavy with unsaid words.

"you know me too well, yn."

"that i do."

you replied, sitting next to him. you pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them for comfort.

"satoru, you know—you don't have to pretend with me. you—"

"i found his kid."

he cut you off mid-sentence, turning his head to face you, and the night sky shimmered off his glasses. you tilted your head in confusion, your brow furrowing. who's kid was he talking about?

"the assassian, the one that killed riko. his last words to me were about his kid—megumi."

"wait, slow down. i'm confused."

"he's a zenin, he's got the ten shadows technique—he has lots of potential, yn. but, the zenin's are assholes. so i'm gonna find him, and help him."

he sat up as he spoke, moving so you're faces were closer together then before. you smiled softly.

"that's a good idea, and when he's old enough—he can go here."

"exactly!."

you look into his eyes, blue and dazzling as always. he seemed exicted about this, he seemed happy. if he’s happy—then you can’t help but share in that happiness. thats how it was for the two of you.

AUGEST-DECEMBER 2009 :

"trust me, they'll love you! megumi's just a little reserved, but tsumiki's a friendly kid. they're really both sweet!"

satoru said, the warm toyko heat shooting from the sun. as you walked down the rocky road toward their apartment, the air was thick with the scent of summer.

"i'm not that worried, 'toru. kids are just—hard to talk to sometimes. i mean, remember that mission last month when I didn’t know how to talk to that kid, so I started just talking to him like he was an adult?"

satoru laughed, his glasses sliding slightly down his nose. he pushed them back up with a quick gesture, a grin still lingering on his lips.

"you'll get used to it. afterall, you're gonna be a teacher like me at jujutsu tech! righttttt?"

"satoru! i already told you there's no way, being a sorcer is already enough work."

as the two of you approached the aparemnt building, he playfully elbowed your arm. the light touch sent a spark through you, and you couldn’t help but smile at his antics.

"your gonna give into it one of these days!"

as you both walked up the creaking staircase of the old apartment building, the soft rustle of the takeout bags cradled in your arms accompanied your footsteps.

once you reached the third floor—you follwed satoru through the hallway until he came to a stop in front of a door. he knocked twice, and you heard the rush of footsteps from the other side of the door.

the door swung open with a gentle creak, revealing a small girl standing in the doorway. her brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail. she had an enthusistic grin on her face, seemingly very exicted to see the two of you—right before you were about to introduce yourself, she spoke up.

"gojo! is this your friend?"

she asked, pulling satoru by his leg inside, you giggled softly as you follwed suit behind them.

as you stepped into the apartment, your gaze swept across the space, taking in its decent size and inviting atmosphere. the sunlight spewed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. and the furniture wasn't that bad (curtesy of satoru, of course).

your sight drifted to the younger boy on the couch—he must be megumi. he looked slightly younger then the girl you met, who was still clinging onto satoru's leg, telling him a story about something.

"tsumiki, megumi, this is yn!"

the girl—tsumiki looked up at you, her expression was a mix of wonder and appreciation. she then brought you into a tight hug, which made your lips turn into a smile.

"are you gojo's girlfriend?"

she asked innocently, her brown eyes sparking with curiosity as she tilted her head slightly to look up at you and satoru. at the same moment, megumi got up from the couch and started walking to the takeout boxes you had on the kitchen counter—peeking inside of them.

you giggled, shaking your head no—trying to hide the small pink hue on your cheeks. you glanced to satoru, his experssion hard to read, as if the question had taken him off guard—something he had never anticipated. and was he blushing? you couldn't really tell, he quickly changed the topic as he spoke up.

"wait a minute megs! i haven't even taken out the food yet!"

he dashed over to the counter, a playful glint in his eye as he gently nudged megumi aside, a joke frown on his face. he began unpacking the takeout—taking it out on the dining table.

the dinner went well of course, tsumiki asked many questions about you, she was a cute kid. megumi on the other hand was more quiet, barley speaking a word expect to humorously insult satoru, who would playfully ruffle up his hair in return. they had a cute dymanic, and you could deftinly see how much satoru cherished those kids—it made you smile.

for the next months after that, you and satoru seemed to develop a routine with the kids. of course, the two of you were busy with missions—so once a week you took megumi and tsumiki out somewhere, the zoo (megumi's favorite), the park, the arcades, the candy store (satoru's favorite), the aquarium (tsumiki's favorite).

as the crisp autumn air set in and the vibrant leaves began to fall from the trees, the four of you took walks in the afternoon. it almost felt like a family sometimes, you wondered if satoru ever thought of it like that. he was hard to read, you never really knew how he was feeling, let alone his thoughts about you.

and as the winter holidays came about, satoru approched you one day. the two of you were third years now, on the brim of graduating. you two and shoko tried to make time to hang out, but it was difficult.

so when he approcahed you, exicted and out of breath from running, his bright smile broke through the chill of the day, it felt like a burst of warmth, and a smile automatically appread on your face.

"christmas!"

"'toru, we still have three weeks 'till christmas."

"no listen, we need to plan!"

you paused, raising an eyebrow at his antics. you were in your dorm, laying down on your bed, he jumped onto it to join you.

"i have a plan, okay! for christmas—just hear me out."

you looked at him, tilting your head slightly to the left as if to show him how much you were listening.

"'megs and tsumiki need a good christmas this year—so i say we give one to 'em! we can get shoko and nanami to come to, it'll be fun!"

"that's actually a pretty cute idea 'toru."

"'actually?!' all my ideas are amazing!"

and so, three weeks later, when christmas eve rolled around, you and satoru pulled an all-nighter—somehow, neither of you exploded from the large amount of coffee you drank and the way-too-many energy drinks satoru chugged.

you had spent the past weeks collecting presents for the two, of course with satoru's credit card there was a lot of things you bought. it made you happy, really happy.

you wished others in jujutsu society could see satoru the way you did, how he was himself with you. he wasn’t just the strongest—he was simply satoru, your satoru.

you loved those cozy evenings spent in your dorm, curled up together, laughing at reality shows while the glow of the screen moved in his eyes. you loved how he had an uncanny ability to sense your sadness, often knowing when to offer a comforting word or a playful distraction. you loved how—camera in hand, he would capture candid moments of you lost in thought or mid-laughter, those photos appearing on his bulletin board as happy memories. and there were those countless nights spent on your guitar, his encouraging cheers coming out as you fumbled through his favorite songs, his proud smile lighting up the dorm each time you finally nailed a chord.

"this is the only time i will willingly wake up at five in the morning for anything."

shoko groaned as she spoke as the four of you stood outside megumi and tsumiki's apartment. nanami nodded in agreemnt, santa hat he wore on his head tipping slightly over his aggrestivly side-parted hair.

"shoko, no being negetive on christmas morning! someone clearly dosen't have the christmas spirit!"

you knocked once, and then twice. you heard the familiar sound of small footsteps approaching the door.

"yn, gojo, you're here, on christmas! we totally didn't think you'd come today!"

"of course i did silly."

satoru replies, bending down to get on the same height as megumi and tsumiki.

"these are my other friends, shoko and nanami."

he pointed to the two figures behind him—shoko with her bag of presents and nanami holding a cup of coffee. the two were both normally more stoic, so it was nice to see them look happy.

the holiday went great, you grew to love the times when you felt like you could forget about jujutsu society as a whole—and just spend time with your friends.

snap!

"gojo, throw that away. i look terrible!"

shoko complains playfully, trying to grab the camera from satoru's arms. with a teasing grin, he lifts it high above her head, using his height to his advantage. sticking his tongue out at her, he watches as the image slowly begins to develop.

NOVEMBER 2016 : ( gojo's pov )

"everyone, this is yn! we went to school together and yes guys this is proof i have friends!"

he paused as you waved to his four first-year students gathered on the sun-drenched grass of the training grounds.

"she didn't want to help me teach, so make sure to give her a warm wel—"

he was quickly silenced by your piercing glare, a look that unmistakably said, "get on with it." and of course, he felt an irresistible pull to agree, fully aware that when it came to you, saying no was not an option.

"anyways, yn—this is maki, panda, inumkai, and yuta! and today, shes going to help all of you with your training!"

the students took that as a cue that they should start their individual training—satoru, seeing a rare opportunity for a break, decided to sit back and relax, confident that you had everything under control! he sat back on a bench, crossing his legs and watching as you went up to inumaki and panda first—who were already sparring.

he watchrd as you spoke to them, showing panda an example on the punches he could do. the way you gestured with your hands, showing the flow of energy from your core to your fists, made the gears turning in panda's mind so he could mirror your demo with his cured technique.

he watched happily as you spoke with maki, your calm demeanor matching hers. he wished he worked with more people like you. hell, he wished there were more people like you.

sometimes, when hes alone in his room in the little hours he gets to sleep—he finds himself thinking about the two of you. he wonders if in another life, you were not sorcerers, and he could finally give you the life you both deserve.

lost in thought, he snaps back to reality and blinks away the daydream. he sees you now sitting on the grass—talking to his new student, yuta. he thought the two of you would get along.

he gets up, about to walk over, before he rembers sometimes he brought. he finds your bag hung over the bleachers, rummaging through it untill he finds his old camera. he had hoped you’d carry it, thinking he might use it during the day—and a wave of nostalgia washes over him as he holds it in his hands.

"smile!"

he said, catching both you and yuta off guard. the katana you were holding in your arms dropped to the ground mid-photo from him startling you.

"satoru, you have to stop doing that! im serious this time i fu—"

"hey, hey, not in front of the kids!"

just then before you could playfully argue back with satoru, maki came over to the area where the three of you were standing.

"yuta, were gonna spar. panda and inumaki are on their hundredth water break and im bored."

she then (without giving him a moment to reply), pulled him by the arm and dragged him to the middle of the training fields.

"so, you like the kids? wanna be a teacher now?"

"whatever you say 'toru. do you even have a teaching license?"

"hey! i'm trying to be nice, you're good with them—the students."

as you looked at him, you looked almost taken aback at his sweet talk. as you processed his compliment.

"yuta's a nice kid, i know how he feels, i mean rember first year me! i was nervous as fuck too—being bullied in middle schools never good for you."

satoru opended his mouth to respond, but you continued.

"and satoru." you hesitated for a moment. "i think its good that you're doing this—teaching. these kids could you someone like you, and you're gonna do a good job."

"aww! that might be the nicest thing you've said to me all year! you're such a sap!"

and even though he joked, deep down—though he would never admit it to you—he felt a genuine happiness. beneath his playful attitude, there was a sincerity that made all the moments with you truly special, a joy that he cherished in silence.

SEPTEMBER 2018 :

"satoru, are you sure your students know how to get here?"

you asked, standing outside the abandoned house where the mission for satoru's new first years was located.

"yes, yes—stop worrying! ijichi is driving them, and they're proably only late because they made him stop at mcdonald's or something."

a moment after he stopped speaking, a black car pulled up in front of the two of you. out stepped three students, two of which you had already met.

"there you guys are, yn here was starting to get worried!"

"i wasn't—"

"anyways, yuji you've already met yn, right?"

the pink-haired boy nodded enthusiastically, his large soda in hand. he took a loud, exaggerated sip, earning him a sharp glare from megumi.

"yep! after nanamin and i got back from our mission."

you nodded, a small smile spreading across your face as you took in his infectious happiness.

"and megumi, you've known yn as long as you've known me! aww, i remember when you were so little and we first met you and—"

"please shut up now."

megumi shot a glare at satoru, his eyes narrowing. in response, satoru put on a playful pout, his lips curling into an exaggerated frown that made it hard to take him seriously.

"wait a minute, so i'm the only one that dosen't know her? guys you know i hate being last to stuff!"

the ginger-haired girl that you had yet to properly meet spoke up, her voice clear and confident. you remembered satoru mentioning her name, nobara kugisaki, before—but this was the first time you were meeting her firsthand.

after you introduced yourself, satoru took the lead and directed the students to follow you as you ventured into the abandoned house for their mission.

the mission went smoothly and quickly—and once the four of you stepped out, you saw satoru waiting for the car outside with something in his hands.

"there you are all, since you guys did well, i brought something to show the three of you!"

satoru spoke up, casually crossing his legs as he addressed the students. you watched him with your arms crossed, a sense of confusion swirling within you. what was he planning this time? yuji and nobara leaned in, eager to see what satoru was gonna show them—and megumi did seem a bit curious.

"look, its my old camera—me and yn as students!"

"oh god."

you groanded, palming your face as satoru smiled widley. nobara and yuji let out quick ooh's and ah's as they waited for him to show them. with a playful grin, satoru directed you and the students towards a restaurant down the block, the lively chatter of the city surrounded you.

"now this ones got to be my favorite."

satoru chuckled as he tossed an old polaroid photo across the table, the picture sliding to a stop in front of you. you glared at him, your annoyance showing as you recognized the image. it was of you in your first year being caught in the rain after a mission—you looked like a drenched cat, furiously glaring at the camera.

yuji and nobara across the table on their side of the bench giggled, megumi even showing a small smile at the antics. there were many, many old photos spread across the table, each containing a memory from you and satoru's teen years. even one of megumi as a kid—which very much embrassed him.

satoru drapped his arm around you, going on to the students about how he was cool when he was their age. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes playfully, caught between amusement and annoyance at his antics, while the students listened intently, their faces lighting up with admiration and laughter—which made you laugh aswell.

DECEMBER 2018 :

"satoru, are you in here?"

you asked, pocking your head around the door that lead to his office at jujutsu tech. he soon would leave to fight the king of curses, to save megumi, to save everyone. you had been trying your best not to think on the impending fight, but the anxiety gnawed at you relentlessly since he announced it. 

before he could answer, you saw him standing there. he was standing above his desk, photographs sprawled out across the table. you tried to read his expression, was he worried, scared, confident? you couldn't fully tell. though, knowing him—you suspected it leaned more towards confidence. still, a lingering doubt tugged at your thoughts, adding to the tension in the air.

"everyones waiting for you outside."

you spoke, your voice barley above a whisper as you came to stand next to him. you looked down at the pictures he was looking at, they showed moments shared between the two of you—laughing alongside shoko and suguru, smiling with megumi and tsumiki, and the countless adventures with the students.

"i know they are. i'm just thinking, and collecting good luck."

you smiled faintly at him as he glanced over at you.

"when this is all over, i'm gonna take you out on a date—a real one. we still have time, i want to give you that, everything you want.'"

and then he hugs you, and he hugs you tight. you embrace him back, holding your arms around his neck—you think you could stay like this for a while, but of course, reality kicks in.

as the two of you leave his office, you don't notice it then—and you won't notice it untill weeks after everything was over. yet, beneath the carefully arranged photographs on his desk lies a letter, its presence unnoticed by you. weeks will pass after the dust settles before the significance of that letter becomes cleart—its addressed to you.

A/N : this took FOREVER to write so im so happy im finally done with it! just a reminder its not proofread/edited fully so im sorry if there are any mistakes or anything poorly written :p this is my first full length fic !! thank u for reading !

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sum of All 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A dark figure stands above you, startling you awake. You squeak as the seat belt snaps back and recoils to your shoulder. You untangle yourself frantically and shield yourself with your hand. 

“Ah, what--” 

“You’re awake. I thought you...knocked out again,” Steve stands straight and grips the car door. 

“I fell asleep,” you say. “I...” you pause and look around. It’s getting dark out. “Where are we?” You raise your hands before he can answer, “wait, wait, wait. Only tell me if it won’t get me killed.” 

“How many times—I don’t just go around offing people.” 

No, you just beat them up until they can’t think. You don’t say it out loud and you’re happy it’s dark enough to conceal your expression. You shrug and turn your legs out. 

“Of course not,” you agree. 

“Hotel,” he answers bluntly. “Take the night then we’ll get to where we need to be tomorrow.” 

“Right,” you slide slowly forward and plant your feet. He drags his hand down the door and backs up, giving you enough space to stand. “Ah, after that drive, I could definitely stretch out. Maybe a hot shower.” You catch yourself. “I’m sure you don’t care though.” 

“It’s fine,” he waits for you to get out of the way before he swings the car door shut. You hesitate. You don’t have any luggage with you. Hm. Well, bridges to cross ahead of you. 

You walk silently inside. He approaches the counter and pulls out a stack of bills. You just watch him, unsure what else to do. 

“Should be enough for the deposit,” he says. 

The man behind the counter accepts it and hands over a key. It’s a small place. One of those roadside motels. It reminds you of an 80s horror movie. You hate scary movies. 

“Uh, just the one,” you say as he takes the key. He stops and looks at it. 

“Come on,” he demands. 

You don’t argue. You go back inside and he marches to the stairs at the other side of the motel. You climb behind him. As you get to the top he turns back to you. 

“One room is easier to secure. It’s safer,” he explains. 

“Oh, okay. Is someone following us?” You wonder. 

“You never know. No more questions. Let’s go. I’m tired,” he insists. 

“Same,” you agree. 

You dread the awkwardness to come but you’re too worn out to resist. It’s not just the long day of work then driving, it’s all that fainting. You forgot how awful that is. 

He unlocks the door and lets you in ahead of him. He flips the lights on and you examine the tight space. A bed, night tables, a box TV, a small coffee bar with packets of instant and cheap tea bags.  

You go back to the bed and test the firmness with your hand. Rogers removes his jacket and hangs it on the rack in the corner. He tilts his head one way than the other, cracking his neck loudly. He nears the bed and sits on the foot of it with a sigh.  

He bends his head forward and reaches to knead his shoulders. You don’t envy the hours of driving, but maybe you could have offered to drive. You look down, searching for a distraction. The close confines can’t help the strange tension. 

There’s a button on the bed frame. Off, low, high. You flip it and the bed shakes, eliciting a grunt from the man on it. He stands in surprise. You quickly turn the vibration off. 

“Oops,” you fold your hands sheepishly. “I thought it was a light or something.” 

He blinks as his eyes scour the bed. He looks at you and puts his hands on his hips. “You need a shower or something?” 

“Ummm,” you look over your shoulder at the dark doorway, “you know, I think I’m just going to lay down. I’m beat. Early to bed, early to rise.” 

He gives you another look, as if you’re speaking a different language. You get nervous and you just say stuff. Besides, your rambling is better than the silence and he isn’t offering much. 

“Hm,” he grumbles. 

He strides away from the bed and goes into the bathroom. The light illuminates him in a yellow glare before he shuts the door. You face the bed and roll your shoulders. 

You leave your shoes by the night table and roll off your stockings. You massage your arches then untuck your blouse. You hang it and return to the bed. You remain only in your camisole and skirt. 

You grab the remote and flick on the television. The shower buzzes loudly as the pipes whine. The walls are thin. You can hear the water slaking onto the tile. Even the low groans of the man steaming up the small space. 

You shuffle through the channels and don’t find much of interest. You leave it on the kids’ channel when nothing else catches your interest. You close your eyes, listening as you curl up under the blankets. 

The bathroom opens and you feel the cloud of damp heat escape. You listen to Rogers move around. He’s right on the other side of the bed. 

“What is this?” He asks. 

You roll over and open your eyes. You nearly gasp at the sight of him. He wears only a towel on his waist. His thick torso is corded in muscle and hair. You force your eyes to his face. His beard and hair are soft with moisture. You shift and lay back on the pillow. 

“The Little Mermaid. There’s nothing else on.” 

“Mm,” he hums as he combs his fingers through his hair, then drags his hands across his beard. He turns and sits, bend a leg across the mattress as his other hangs to the floor. “Isn’t it for children?” 

“I saw it when I was a children,” you say. “It’s not bad.” 

He watches silently. You can’t see his full expression but his profile appears slightly perplexed. You sit up and put the remote next to him.  

“You could put something on. Maybe they have HBO. I heard The Sopranos is good.” He slowly looks over his shoulder at you. You blanch, “joke. Sorry.” 

He reaches for the remote and turns away. You stare at this back and all the muscles in it. There’s a tattoo of three stars between his shoulder blades. Ouch. 

“You can watch it,” he allows as he puts the remote on the table.  

He lifts himself up and folds back the blanket. He slips his legs beneath and pulls it up to his waist. You focus on the TV as you try to ignore him. He’s almost naked right beside you. You can feel the heat radiating off of him. 

“Cool,” you say. Why do you feel like fainting again? 

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Fresh Lemonade: 50¢ (dp x dc)

Jason was seconds away from collapsing. He had been awake for a bit less than three days straight due to a particularly difficult case and he could now barely keep his eyes open. He was wearing civilian clothes as he dragged his body through the streets of Crime Alley, way too tired to attempt getting to his safe-house via rooftops. His barely-coherent thoughts all focused on how heavenly his bed was going to feel for the half second he’d be in it before he could finally fall unconscious. He turned to arrive on his street only to stop at the sight of a small and cutely decorated lemonade stand. Jason squinted, half-believing his mind was playing tricks on him because this was Crime Alley. One of the worst part of it in fact.

People who lived there were either hardened criminals or desperate and stuck. It was not the the kind of place that would encourage the existence of a lemonade stand. As Jason got closer to it, he could soon see a slip of a girl sitting on a little stool behind the counter. The vigilante stopped in front of the sign announcing the cost for one glass being 50 cents and looked at the girl curiously. As if sensing his gaze, she raised her head from the game she had been playing and gave him a beaming smile.

“Hi,” she chirped. “Would you like to buy some lemonade?”

“How long have you been here?” Jason asked, worried about her lack of fear of a stranger.

“You mean the stand?” She said before continuing smugly, “I just set it up. It’s pretty sweet right?”

“Kid,” the vigilante started, “this is Crime Alley, not Bristol. You need to stop or move your operation.”

“No way!” she protested. “It took me ages to get everything right, I’m not tearing it down now.”

“Where are your parents?” Jason asked as he resisted the urge to sigh.

The girl frowned as her eyes narrowed. “Either get a glass, or move along mister.”

Jason sighed before he walked a bit further as he got his phone out of his pocket. He was too tired to deal with this. One of his underling could do the fine job of keeping the kid from getting beat up.

As the dial tone sounded, Jason heard a voice coming from behind.

“Fresh lemonade, huh? Why don’t you give me a sample,” said a male voice.

“Sorry,” came the girl’s voice. “I don’t have cups for that. You have to buy one.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” came the mocking voice of the customer and Jason sighed at the imminent confrontation. Maybe it would teach the girl some caution if nothing else. “Why don’t I just-”

The scream of pain had the vigilante snapping the phone shut and turning around in an instant, only to see an older teenager cradling his visibly-broken hand close to his chest as the girl tutted at him.

“No swiping,” she lectured. “If you want some you gotta pay for it fair and square.” The teenager looked at her hesitatingly with a tinge of fear in his eyes before he scampered off with a few curses.

Well.

Maybe sleep could wait a little while more.

With a smile, Jason walked back to the stand. ���You know what, I changed my mind, get me a cup.”

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

How about a little argument and make up with Gaz 👀 He crosses a line and blurts out something he shouldn't have? I'm a sucker for hurt/comfort, thanks! Congrats on 5k!! 💕💕

—Didn't Mean It

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Arguments are rare, certainly ones that leave you in tears.] ❞

You ended up locking yourself in the bedroom to have some time to yourself, head under the covers and your eyes burning from the tears you’d shed over the course of hours. It had to be well into the night now—maybe even into tomorrow if you bothered to think realistically. 

An argument with your boyfriend was practically unheard of, certainly one that left you tearing up and your hands shaky. Your heart hurting. 

Kyle had gotten back from his deployment a week early just yesterday, and you had immediately known something was wrong. He was having a harder time re-adjusting to civilian life—was more curt in his answers to your questions even if you were just trying to understand how to make him feel better. The entire day had been spent with him blankly staring at the telly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. 

The fight had started about, of all things, the duffel bag of his belongings that you’d brought into the laundry room. You can’t remember most of it, but you remembered enough. 

“Gaz,” you level. “It’s a duffel bag. I just need it out of the walkway so I don’t trip over it.”

The man scoffs, but he can’t look at you. 

“What, you expecting someone over?” Your face wrinkles, head pulling a bit back like your neck was on a string. 

“...Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” His brown eyes turn to you, burning as his hands twitch. “Having someone come over when I’m not around, yeah? Giving me a run-around?” 

For a moment you’re utterly silent, not blinking as you stare at him in shock. When you gather your senses, you force out through a tight throat. “Garrick, I suggest you be careful with what you’re saying to me. You need to sit down and think rationally—it’s just a bag, this is ridiculous. Why in the world would I ever do something like that to you?”

His jaw clenches. 

“I don’t need to bloody sit down!” Kyle snaps, head turning away with a bit of panic in his eyes. It became apparent pretty quickly that he wasn’t in the right headspace and he knew it. “I need to know if you’ve been fucking someone else!” 

Your body tenses, eyes snapping wide. A swift silence falls between the two of you as your mouth gapes at Gaz. As if just realizing what he’d said, the man puts a hand on the back of his head and steps back, lips opening and closing. 

“W-wait, I didn’t…I didn’t mean it like that, Love. I…” You’re already walking away, hands at your sides clenched and tears stinging the back of your eyes like knives. 

So here you were, lying on the bed and breathing low—eyes half closed as Gaz’s shadow doesn't leave from under the door. He’d been there the whole time, sitting on the floor across the hall. Waiting. On occasion he’d speak; talk about how the deployment went. 

You only really listened in the dim shadows when he offered an explanation for his attitude. 

“I…” His voice is muffled, but it’s still Kyle. “I held a kid as he died, Love.” You’re fully awake in an instant, eyes stuck to the dark wood. “I watched…I just fucking watched, and I couldn’t do a damn thing. I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to take it out on you—I…Bloody Hell, I’m sorry, Sweetheart, I didn’t mean it. Fuck I didn’t mean it.” 

The man is getting choked up, his words jumbling together as a deep pain grows over the airways. Your hand is on the handle of the door before you can remember your anger, opening it and darting across the small distance. You collide with his firm chest as the first of his sobs break out of his chest, his hands shakily curling around your back as you pull him up. 

“I’m sorry,” he utters, broken, as his head shoves itself into your neck. “I’m sorry.” Again, again, again. 

You hold him and he grasps onto you like a lifeboat, both unsure. Forcing down your own tears, you put a hand on his back and rub it up and down, whispering to him. 

“Shh, Kyle,” he sobs, shaking. “Hey, it’s alright—I know you didn’t mean it, Love. I know.”

“Isn’t an excuse,” the man mutters into your skin, your shirt sticking to your flesh. “Shouldn’t have said that to you. I don’t even know why I did—don’t even believe it; you’d never do that.” 

“No,” you whisper, reassuring him. “No, I wouldn’t.” 

Pulling back, you grab onto his cheeks and level his leaking eyes with yours, wiping with your thumbs at his cheeks; brushing over the scars on his left under-eye. He sags and tries to give you a wobbly smile. A second later you speak.

“You’re stuck with me, Kyle Garrick. For all of it,” you say firmly—hard. And you say it again, and will until he believes it. “For all of it.”

The both of you stay there for a long time until your foreheads collapse into each other and you finally see the honest flicker of his lips again. You share a small, knowing, look. 

“For all of it,” he utters, and slots his lips to yours; whispering apologies in between every kiss as he drags you impossibly closer.

[throneofsmut]

Kinktober Day Nineteen: Foursome and Double Penetration Poly Bat Boys x Female Reader

You always knew having three mates would be hard. Even more so because one of them is the most powerful High Lord in history. And the other two are the most powerful Illyrians in history.

But not as hard as the way they were gonna fuck your brains out.

All three males were completely different yet so similar in the way they loved and communicated with you and with each other.

The bond had snapped with Azriel first, then Rhys and then Cassian. You were with the inner circle at Rhys’ cabin in the Illyrian Mountains, when the bonds snapped into place.

Laying your head against Azriel’s shoulder on the sofa where you were all sitting and he called you name to see if you were still awake, “Y/n ?” You lifted your head up to meet his eyes and that’s when it snapped for the both of you.

Rhys saw the interaction between the both of you and was confused by the silence that had come from it, concern lacing his voice, “Y/n ? Az ?” Then the bond snapped for the three of you causing all three of you to gasp.

Cassian heard the three of you gasp and was confused because he had missed what happened and was a little drunk. “Uh… what happened ?” Eyes darting between the three of you, shocked at the fact that you were all mates, none of you heard his question. So he repeated it louder, “What happened ?” You all looked at him and then it snapped with him too.

You let out a scream because, mother’s tits not only did you have one mate, not two mates but three. Three fucking mates. Azriel was just in shock, eyes wide and mouth agape. Rhys looked surprised and confused. Cassian only uttered three words, “What. The. Fuck.”

All of you had a serious talk about what to do but your mind was made up, you wouldn’t pick one over the others. You couldn’t, you’d loved them all throughout the centuries you’ve known each other and couldn’t stand to think about hurting them like that.

Luckily they all agreed that they loved you too and wanted to all stay together even if that meant sharing you.

The frenzy that came after accepting the bond was mind blowing.

It had been months since then but that fire between all of you was still there. That's why when they came back from being gone for half a day at Windhaven, Rhys winnowed all four of you to the bedroom, as soon as you had greeted them at the door.

The tension was undeniable, the scent of arousal filled the room, their muscles visibly taut under their clothes and pupils blown.

Rhys misted everyone’s clothes and their hands were on you, not one inch of your skin untouched. Azriel wasted no time in picking you up and laying you on the massive bed. Kissing you with fervor before pulling back and leaning his forehead against yours. Groaning, “I missed you so much, bunny.” As he was lining his cock up with your entrance, burying himself inside you with a guttural groan.

Your walls fluttered around him as he rutted into, burying his head into your neck as he fucked you. “Good girl.” You heard Cassian praise at your side. Then Rhys, “Taking all of him.”

“So fucking good,” Az grunted, lifting his head up to sit up on his knees as he pounded into you. “You look so pretty like this bunny, so full of my cock.” His voice was the embodiment of lust, each word making the heat in your tummy coil tighter.

Your responding whimpers had Rhys and Cassian at your sides in an instant. Cocks fisted in each of their hands as one of Cassian’s hands tugged and pinched at your sensitive nipples and Rhys’ circling your clit in tandem with Az’s thrusts. “Oh fuck !” You cried out already feeling like you were going to cum.

Azriels hips began to stutter and he started panting meaning he was right on the edge too. He shifted, angling his hips, hitting that sweet spot inside of you. Making your walls spasm around him, “Want me to fill you up bunny ?” You nod and babble an incoherent yes that only your mates would understand. Azriel snaps his hips against yours faster while Rhys applies more pressure to your clit. With a small scream and your back arching off the bed you cum. Az following right behind you, his release barreling through him, coating your walls.

Cassian didn’t let you catch your breath as he positioned you on top of him while he sat against the headboard. Seating himself inside you in one go before jackknifing up into you. “Fuck, baby you’re so perfect.” He growled before taking one of your nipples into his mouth.

You were so lost in pleasure that you didn’t even notice Rhys coming up behind you. Leaning over your shoulder as his hand rubbed your lower back lovingly while Azriel’s shadows were caressing your face and tits while teasing your clit. “Do you think you can take us both, princess ?” You turned your attention to him, his eyes softening but his lips quirking up into a smirk at the sight of your fucked out state.

You couldn’t form words so you nodded your head and pushed your ass out towards him. Earning a dark chuckle from him, “Cruel, wicked thing.”

“She wants it, give it to her Rhys. She’s been a good girl.” Azriel encouraged.

Rhys didn’t hesitate, gathering some of your arousal on his fingers, slowly working your hole open with his fingers, as Cassian continued fucking you. “Rhys please.” You whined making all the males smirk at your impatience. Still Rhys was taking it slow because he didn’t want to hurt you, so you took matters into your own hands and grabbed his length pushing it in.

Cassian stilled inside of you, gripping your hips in a bruising grip as you worked Rhys’s length inside of you.

You and Rhys let out twin groans once we he was fully seated in you. “Fuck,” you panted, feeling your release building again as Cassian’s started slamming his hips up into yours again roughly. “Rhys. Move.” You gritted out through clenched teeth.

“I -Fuck princess.” Rhys groaned as his hips met the swell of your ass. You couldn’t focus on anything else but the sound of skin hitting skin. Eyes screwed shut, gasping as Rhys and Cassian pumped out in and out of you in tandem.

Your head now lying against Cassian’s tanned chest as they both fucked you mercilessly. “Look at me, Bunny.” Azriel commanded. Obeying without a thought, instantly meeting his gaze. “Good girl.” He cooed as his scarred palm caressed your flush cheek, yet the fist around his cock didn’t falter.

Azriel catches you staring at his hand as he strokes himself and smirks, “You want me in your mouth ?”Opening your mouth as a silent response, he moves closer so you don’t strain your neck, pushing his length into your warm mouth groaning.

The room is filled with the sounds of pleasure coming from all of you and skin slapping against skin. You were moaning on Az’s cock as you felt fire begin to pool in your tummy as he purred, “Look at how well you take all of us. You were made for us, princess.”

His words sent you over the edge, making you cry out, body trembling as Rhys and Cassian fucked you through your orgasm.

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. It was too much, and yet not enough at the same time. You were so full but still wanted everything they had to give you.

The sound of your moans around his cock was enough to have Azriel spilling into your mouth. Cassian and Rhys groaning at the sight of both you, eyes screwing shut in pleasure as their releases barreled through them.

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

[hrefna-the-raven]

Hope in hell

Masterlist - BG3 masterlist

Part 1 - Drunken minds speak sober hearts

Words: 2138

Warnings: smut (18+)

Summary: The dreaded morning after ;)

Raphael let out a groan, his head pounding like a piece of metal relentlessly being hammered into shape by the most skilled dwarven blacksmiths, the constant painful throbbing clouding his memories, making it difficult to piece together the events of last night, despising how he felt like a common mortal after a night's out. He attempted to sit up but froze as he felt something soft resting on his chest, accompanied by a comforting warmth. Taking a deep breath, he glanced down and let out a sigh, his heart suddenly feeling heavy. Haarlep must have slept with you, assumed your form and then... his eyes shot wide open and he muttered a curse under his breath as fragments of the previous night's memories flickered through his mind.

That damned incubus got him drunk and then you showed up and... His hands delicately traced the contours of your slumbering figure. It was truly you, his beloved little mouse, curled up against his chest. His heart raced, a twinge of pain accompanying the rapid beats, as he pondered how to proceed. What clever remark would he throw at you once you woke up? Would he even need one? Would you recoil and attempt to flee from the sight of the devil beneath you? He didn't get enough time to find an answer to all his questions as you slowly stirred awake, your eyes were still closed as you lazily stretched and your hips accidentally brushed against his growing arousal.

A deep growl rumbled in his chest, causing you to quickly raise your head and look at him, eyes wide with surprise. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, swirling in chaotic circles, expecting to be scolded, pushed away, or even punished. But to your astonishment, nothing happened. You still remained lying there, on top of him, silently gazing into each other's eyes, both afraid that any spoken word might shatter the peaceful and loving moment you were sharing. But the silence grew heavy and a sense of unease slowly crawled up your spine, threatening to consume both your thoughts and body. It was unusual to witness Raphael in such a state of quietude, after all that happened, it didn't sit right with you that he was so calm, devoid of any movement or speech. It almost seemed as if Haarlep had managed to shatter him completely, that one evening of unfiltered truth had stripped away every trace of his self-centered arrogance, leaving him exposed and vulnerable before you. You were the first to ever glimpse at the raw essence of Raphael's entire being and, despite your constant cat and mouse game, you felt no desire to exploit it; on the contrary, you cherished this side of him, the devil laid bare, and at this very moment, you yearned to love him more than ever.

"About last night-"

"I feel the same!", you interjected, cutting off Raphael mid-sentence, "but if you..."

Any further words you were about to utter were engulfed by a provocative moan as you sensed his growing arousal pressed firmly against your hips the moment you attempted to readjust your position. Raphael's eyes fluttered shut, his mouth hanging open, unable to withstand the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that washed over him.

"To hell with this, I want you!", the words escaped your lips almost simultaneously, filled with an urgent longing.

Raphael snapped his fingers, and in an instant, both yours and his clothes disappeared. He pulled you towards him so swiftly that you had to clutch onto his horns to prevent yourself from toppling over. As his mouth met your dripping folds, you couldn't help but whimper. It was at this moment that you realised how much of the Raphael you came to know was still present. The damned devil teased you with the anticipation of his hot tongue caressing your arousal but you simply wouldn't have it, not now. You lowered your hips, grinding gently against his face, yearning for any kind of friction. His claws dug into the tender flesh of your thighs, firmly keeping you in place.

"My little mouse", the devil chuckled, "so eager to be eaten."

With a tantalising slowness, he dragged his tongue through the delicate contours of your folds, briefly encircling your clit before sucking on it with an insatiable hunger. The air was filled with the intoxicating symphony of your sinful moans and your grip around his horns instinctively tightened. This was a desire that had consumed your thoughts for countless nights, the fantasy of being pleasured by your very own devil. And now, as it finally became a reality, you couldn't hold anything back. The intensity of your climax approached rapidly and just as you were about to reach its peak, his licks ceased. Frustration welled up within you, ready to protest, but then he pressed his tongue flat against your throbbing clit while simultaneously thrust two of his large fingers deep inside you. The rhythmic pumping intensified, driving you towards the edge once more. Within mere moments, your inner walls clenched around his fingers and you experienced a mind-shattering orgasm, screaming his name in ecstasy.

With an unexpected tenderness, he released his grip on your hips and gently cradled you in his arms, carefully laying you down on the bed beside him. His face turned towards you, his eyes filled with love as he gazed upon your blissful expression. As soon your eyes met his, he understood that there would be no turning back anymore, he was in love with this fragile mortal and he would curse himself to an eternity of anguish if he'd deny himself the bliss of your love. The hells and all its devils be damned, he would see that you'd remain at his side for as long as you'd live.

"You now know about my best kept secret", he whispered, as if afraid that any disruption would shatter the fragile balance, "and rest assured my feelings for you will not easily waver. However this is hell and I'm not just any devil but the son of Mephistopheles, I, I can't", he faltered, uncertain of how to proceed as it felt wrong, for the first time in his existence, to utter those words.

"You can't show weakness to others, you can't show your love to me", you offered, the pain your voice obvious.

You turned your eyes away, unable to bear the increasing sorrow, but his hands swiftly moved to cradle your face, redirecting your focus back to him.

"If you're willing to stay by my side despite the laws of the nine hells working against us, I will vow my love to you within my House of Hope for as often as you desire it and I promise you that beyond these walls, I will always treat you with utmost respect and defend your honour, for you will be the lady of this house", he paused briefly, attempting to discern your reaction before continuing, "if you'd be willing."

His words left you in astonishment as you blinked. Did he truly express his desire to commit to you, vowing to cherish and safeguard you? It was a proposal you should have considered longer before answering, yet your body instinctively reacted before your mind could fully comprehend the situation. You crawled towards him, pushing him down on his back as you straddled him, gently, to not hurt his wings before you leaned down, capturing his lips in a fervent embrace. Raphael moaned your name as he felt you positioning his hardening member at your entrance, sinking down on him just enough for the tip to enter. His hands found your hips, holding you in place momentarily as he broke the kiss.

"What are you doing?"

"We're not done until we both had our fair share of pleasure", you breathed as you sank down on him, swallowing a moan, "besides shouldn't the lady of the house keep her man satisfied?"

Raphael's smile widened as he guided your motions, starting off slowly and then picking up speed. Feral growls escaped his lips as he he could feel himself approaching the peak of his own pleasure fast. He had been intimate with many throughout the decades, including Haarlep, a being existing ultimately to provide pleasure, but there was something special about you. The closeness, the shared emotions, the intimacy - all of his previous encounters paled in comparison to the connection he felt with you in this very moment. But you felt just as good, riding a devil, having his cock buried deep down inside you, filling you up perfectly while hitting that sweet spot over and over again, transforming this sinful act into something heavenly. The feeling of pure bliss cursed through your whole body as you moved your hips in a perfect rhythm, the heated embrace of desire and lust unleashed as both of toppled over the edge. In this moment of tenderness and passion, it was clear that your connection went beyond physical pleasure. It was a union of souls, an experience that transcended mere satisfaction. 

"Raphael", you moaned loudly as your walls clenched around his cock, feeling it twitched as his seed spilled inside you.

Both of you panted heavily, a contented smile playing at the edges of your lips as the devil sat up, his arms wrapping around you to pull you into a tight embrace.

"I love you", he whispered tenderly, chuckling as you hummed your consent, too spent to utter a word.

"Oh my, what a perfectly delicious sight", a familiar voice chuckled, drawing nearer.

Your eyes snapped open and you blinked in disbelief as you spotted Astarion standing in the boudoir, bearing a smug grin as he observed the two of you with obvious amusement.

"Astarion?!", you shrieked, scrambling off Raphael, hastily covering your exposed form with the silk blanket to hide both your nakedness and your embarrassment from your companion. The vampire merely chuckled, his gaze shifting between you and the devil.

"Guess again, little mouse", the pale elf playfully teased, giving you a sly wink, his crimson eyes glowing up for just a second, "it seems my plan worked rather well."

Before you had a chance to fully comprehend who was standing before you, Raphael, still unclothed, swiftly leapt out of bed and lunged towards the elf. His fingers clenched tightly around Haarlep's throat, exerting a dangerous pressure. You wanted to scream, to implore Raphael to stop, but Haarlep calmly transformed into his master's form, causing Raphael to immediately release his grip on the incubus' throat.

"You wretched creature!", Raphael spat, "you poisoned me! Do NOT forget your place in this house, slave!"

Instinctively, you retreated further onto the bed, clutching the blanket tightly as sudden fear surged through you. You had witnessed many facets of Raphael's personality, but this seething rage terrified you beyond measure, especially coming from the same being who had cradled you tenderly just moments before but a part of you also understood his anger.

"You misunderstood, my dear master, my intent was never to poison you. I simply intended to", the incubus gestured towards you, "enhance your chances with your favourite misadventurer, all in your best interest I assure you."

Raphael was fuming, wishing he could obliterate Haarlep into countless fragments. However, he recognised that he couldn't afford to destroy such a gift from his father, at least not yet, and deep down Raphael knew that the incubus was right, without his involvement, last night and this morning wouldn't have unfolded so magnificently. Haarlep, of course, fully grasped the advantage he currently held over his master and decided to push his luck even further, knowing that such a perfect opportunity would not present itself again in the near future.

"If you'll excuse me", he hummed while transforming back to Astarion's form, "I have to get back to my new, rather passionate, lover. It's quite nice to be in the receiving end for once."

He gave you a sly wink and blew a quick kiss your way before disappearing once again, leaving you alone with the annoyed devil.

Rising to your feet, you cautiously approached Raphael, still wrapped in the warmth of a blanket. Your fingertips lightly traced along the edges of his magnificent wings as you circled around him.

"Why not free the incubus from his duties?", you suggested, tugging at his hand and bringing it up to your lips, planting kisses along the inside of his arm, "no more Haarlep means no father watching your every move."

Raphael chuckled, pulling you close and lifting you effortlessly in one swift motion.

"Well, well, my little mouse," he whispered, planting a sweet peck on your lips, "not only are you full of delightful surprises, but it also seems that I couldn't have asked for a more perfect lady of my House of Hope."

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