#Just wanted to get some base sketches out

[madamechrissy]

Pour it Up

Pairings: Stripclub Owner Sukuna x Stripper F!reader

Summary:- You are a single mother, your baby daddy is not just worthless, he also is actively trying to sabotoge you, so you go out on your own and raise your kid by yourself. Struggling your ass off, a friend of a friend named Toji decides to offer you a hell of a deal, a few hours a night at a strip club to make BANK. While there, you meet the other owner, Sukuna, and the moment he sees you? You annoy him how beautiful you are, how much he wants you, pushing him to insanity. He knows he must have you- no matter whose ass he needs to beat.

Warnings:- reader is a mom, lowkey/highkey Yandere Sukuna behavior, lots of drug use, drug dealing Sukuna (the club lowkey a front lol) hints of Mafia ties, EXPLICIT sexual content, blow jobs, cunnilingus, fingering, masturbation, teasing and eventually violence, some former trauma of reader. This part- Oral (M recieving) cum swallowing, dirty talk, drug use and masturbation- WC-6k

Based on Stripclub Owner Sukuna - IDK how many parts this will be, thinking four? That mobster art in the banner is by Sketch B on X- CHECK it- LINK

Playlist - Part Two>>>(soon)

Part One

“There you go, baby.” Toji murmurs to one of the pretty strippers, who is sitting right on his lap as he laps up salt off her breasts with his tongue, before taking the tequila shot she holds between them and downing it.

“Mr. Sukuna, are you ready?” Another dancer asks him, sitting on his lap, he proceeds to the same thing, licking her skin, moaning as he does, the tequila burning down his throat as he gulps, feeling it burn a trail down, he hisses at it, smacking the stripper’s ass when Toji lights up a blunt.

“Got a new girl comin’ in, Sukuna.” Toji mutters, inhaling and exhaling the puff of smoke, Sukuna takes the thick blunt and inhales the smoke into his lungs, feeling the effects of the alcohol and weed mingling as he watches the cloud of smoke release from his lips.

“Our best girl just left, I hope she’s good.” He hands the blunt back to Toji, who leans forward just a bit, blowing his smoke right into one of the girl’s mouths, she coughs and Toji snorts in laughter.

“She’s gonna make bank, plus she’s a friend of a friend, m’tryna help her out some.”

Sukuna bursts out in laughter then, throwing his head back. “You’re tryna help her out? With what, your dick?”

Toji scowls, lips set in a firm line. “Think I don’t help out friends, shithead?”

“Shithead?” Sukuna stands now, fists clenched. “The fuck you say, Zenin?”

“Ya heard me.” He grins as he stands too, the girls ooh and ahh at the two huge men clenching their fists.

“Wanna get some more scars on that mug of yours?”

“Ya act like you’re getting a hit in-”

“Is that the new girl!?” One of the strippers whispers, but loud enough for Toji to turn and grin.

“Lemme get her prepped.” Sukuna rolls his ruby eyes, ‘prepped’ sure, but he can’t help but be intrigued when Toji is so eager to go to her. He shrugs, however, he has a business meeting to get going with Gojo in about an hour, he has many, many profitable businesses that the government surely doesn’t know about.

Sukuna runs many, many things, up to and including running coke, and Gojo is a big player in that, the strip club although profitable is a bit of a cover for it, the girls all make extra bank to sell packs of it with each lap dance. And Sukuna and Toji, although they sometimes like to just beat each other up for fun, are actually decent partners at it.

“Candy, get the good shit for the meeting, hmm?” He says to her then, she nods eagerly, bending down to kiss Sukuna on the cheek.

“Of course Mr. Sukuna!” She runs off, in nothing but a thong, her ass jiggling nicely. Sukuna has to admit, life is pretty good for him.

Something feels empty, but nothing women, coke, weed and liquor can’t fill, along with beating up assholes here and there. No need for bouncers with Sukuna and Toji, though they had security but it was more for themselves, and rivaling members that loved to come try to fuck with their game or get a piece of it, but they were realizing something.

Sukuna is the King of this city.

He thinks he has this all figured out too, he has anything and everything he wants, filthy rich in fact now, and people fear him, or want to be with him, and that’s what he’s worked towards. As Candy gets back with the finest cocaine, he takes a line right off her inner thigh as she holds one up for him, her platform heel propped on his knee.

He chuckles as it hits him, and he can feel her heat, Candy is his favorite, but then he pauses, blinking as if he’s having some stupid insane vision when he sees the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Something about the girl in the silver bikini makes him crave her like a drug, like anything he can fucking imagine, to the point his mouth drops open and he shoves Candy aside.

Just who is this girl?

Sukuna needs her, and needs her now.

He needs you.

You’re standing there, as Toji has you by an arm, shivering just a bit in your silver outfit, one he had borrowed from one of the girls so you could dance tonight. The lighting is low and seductive in the club, the music reverberating off the walls, a kaleidoscope of crimson, emerald and sapphire that bounces off the dark, polished wood of the floor.

There are rooms with red velvet drapes, and a mix of modern furniture and items that look vintage, including the red sofa with one of the just… largest men you have ever seen? Toji was already a huge guy, this man, his long lanky thighs, his broad shoulders, he takes over the entire room, and when he stands, staring at you with ruby eyes, it’s intimidating.

Toji you’ve known for some time, but even he couldn’t really compare to this man, towering over everyone in the room, shocking pink hair and tattoos all across his neck, a fancy three piece business suit but no tie, just an unbuttoned black dress shirt. You notice lipstick mouth prints down his neck, notice girls all over him before he literally shoves them out of the way to just stare.

You panic then, you are a mom, you have a couple stretch marks and maybe wider hips than before when you danced, but you think the outfit is flattering enough!? Toji told you you didn’t even need to cover up, his dark green eyes had devoured your body hungrily with a ‘ya look fuckin’ fine, doll’ so you at that point felt okay stepping out in this.

But the way this man - Toji said his name is Sukuna - is staring you’re unsure if he hates you on sight or something is just bothering him!? You stand there, nervously, knowing he’s an owner too, and wanting to make a good impression. “Hello… Mr. Sukuna, right?” You tell him your name softly, and he steps a little closer, your head falls back to look up at him.

“She’s the new girl?” He asks Toji, his voice deep and husky.

“Mmhmm, she’s a little rusty at dancing but she’ll catch on quick, won’t ya doll?” Toji slings an arm around your shoulder.

“Yes, I can pick it back up, I promise.” You say eagerly, Sukuna’s ruby eyes narrow, you inhale the scent of cannabis mixing with… a cologne or scent Sukuna has, so woodsy and musky it damn near lures you in, then Sukuna steps impossibly closer, eyes slowly draping down your body.

“I’ll see what you can do.” He smirks at you, trying to feign ease, as if he doesn’t wanna drag you in his office and fuck you right on that desk then and there, you look down shyly when he brushes your hair back, watching how the lights hit your pretty face. “Gonna show me?”

“Y-yes, of course. Can I just… practice a little?”

“Mmhmm.” He says, stepping back now casually, sitting on the couch, legs spread wide, you can see how the material of his slacks stretches over his thick, muscled thighs. He looks at you under his lashes, taking a glass of whiskey and sipping on it.

“It’s um… nice to meet you.” You say softly, as he struggles not to openly stare, hiding the swirling storm inside his gut, as he eyes your body, your every curve, how your tits sway, how you turn, how you move.

Sukuna says nothing, and Toji’s rough palm touches your waist. “You’ll do good, just go watch a couple of the girls for a few.”

“Thank you, Toji.” You say with a smile, and then Toji watches the pure thirst written all over Sukuna’s face, chuckling.

“You got the hots for her, huh?” Sukuna scowls at Toji as he sits back down, eyeing one of the bags of coke and taking a little bit of it up his nose, sighing.

“Who is she?” Sukuna asks gruffly, eyes the sway of your hips and how your body moves when you slowly circle the pole with the girls.

“She’s a family friend, got a kid and shit. Single mom, thought I’d bring her here, she’ll make plenty.” Sukuna hums to himself, eyes narrowing.

You’re a mother?

Your eyes catch him across the room, lowering shyly. “She seems too… shy and shit? Ya sure she’s stripper material, maybe a bartender?”

“She will make way more dancing, and she’s danced in the past. Can’t take you eyes off her, huh?”

“Shut it.” But he can’t take them off you, and as clientele start coming, he’s fucking furious that they’re even able to see you.

“She’s not an easy fuck, Sukuna, so don’t anticipate it.” Sukuna smirks, leaning his head on his hand as Toji sips on his drink, a girl dancing on him.

Sukuna doesn’t even take the next dancer who wants to be on him, too busy watching you, knees on the polished marble floor, garters on your thighs already full of bills, your pretty little smile, eyes that are just… hiding something. There’s something about you that’s making him insane, and he’s said five words to you, so enthralled he barely notices when Gojo comes in.

Wearing sunglasses in a dark strip club he grins at Sukuna now, before looking in his direction, whistling. “Oh mommy.”

“Jesus.” Sukuna rolls his eyes as Satoru eyes you.

“Shit, she’s new huh?”

“Mmm.” Sukuna glares as Satoru takes off his glasses, eyeing you up and down slowly, too slowly.

“Can I just… go to the stage first?”

“Sit the fuck down, Satoru.” Satoru snorts as he looks at Sukuna and Toji, who is snorting in laughter himself.

“Possessive of the new girl, hmm?” Satoru sits between Toji and Sukuna now, as Candy starts cutting three lines for them.

“Shut the fuck up.” Sukuna grumbles, some guy is sliding his fingers up your thigh, and you’re tensing, brows together. “Hey, no touching the girls, fuck face.”

“He’s down bad, huh?” Gojo mumbles, as Sukuna is standing, gripping the guy by his collar.

“Since the moment he saw her.” Toji looks at Sukuna’s line, then at Satoru. “Shit let’s split his line too.”

Satoru and Toji are busy snorting Sukuna’s coke as he proceeds to fling the man out of the club, and you’re staring wide eyed at him, the grown man looking like a little boy compared to him, dangling in the damn air. You nervously clean the pole, before stepping down, coming over to Sukuna then and touching his arm, he jerks, looking at you like you burned him.

“I’m sorry…” You murmur, easing your hand down, nervously fiddling with your fingers in front of you. “Thank you.”

“What!?” He demands, leaning low, hands in the pockets of his slacks.

“For that. Thank you, it wasn’t… I told him to back off. But I appreciate it, you are looking out for me.” You touch his chest now, it feels so natural to touch him, feeling his heart beat thumping against an apparently insanely strong chest, looking up at him under your long lashes that you put on for the night.

“I…” He can’t think of what to say then, you’re so sweet it should make him sick, but now he’s just feeling more want, more need. “You can dance for me tomorrow, then, show me what you got.” He manages gruffly.

“I absolutely will.” You say with a shy smile.

A shy stripper?

Who the fuck are you?

“I don’t have any other outfits yet, but I’m going to get some soon. Is it okay if I just wear this tomorrow?”

“Pshh, I’ll have some ordered.” You blink in surprise.

“Are you sure?”

“It’s nothing.” He pokes around on his phone for a few, eyeing your body up and down, lip turning up at the corner. “I bet I get your exact size.”

“What- how?”

“I’m an expert at tit size. Body size. Women.” You feel your cheeks heat up as he studies you, one of his dark brows raising, it has slits and this barbell in it that just make him more fucking attractive, doing erratic things to your mind.

“Well you can take it out of my-”

“Keep your money.” His gruff words and dismissive wave of his hand gives off the vibes that it’s nothing to him, but it’s a sweet gesture even if he’s acting as if it’s not one. “Come in early and dance for me, would ya. I wanna make sure Toji picked a good replacement.”

“Yes, Sir.”

You saying Sir makes him immediately think of painting that pretty ass with his big handprints, then drizzling his cum all over it, so lewd his cock throbs with need. What the fuck is wrong with him, he sees naked women constantly, why are you already irritating him like this. He glares, confusing the shit out of you.

“Tch.” Is all he says, then he walks away. You blink in confusion, shaking your head before looking at the time, realizing you have to leave if you wanna relieve the babysitter tonight.

Rushing into the locker room to change back into normal clothes, you’re shivering as you catch Sukuna outside, about to step inside a limo, when he looks at your surely silly clothing. You’re just in jeans and a hoodie as the chill of the air is out, even as he’s in a car full of girls in pretty dresses, surely you look silly to him you think as you wave goodbye.

But Sukuna is instead thinking of how someone could make a black hoodie look so delectable, picturing fucking you in just that. He ignores the girls in the car as he, Gojo and Toji head out to the club, for more negotiations. He ignores anyone and everything, instead you’re wrecking his mind.

How annoying.

*****

You are exhausted the next morning, as you spent the day with your little three year old, but you’re so blessed because just one night at the club and your fridge was full. Despite his father being rich, he did nothing to help you all out, and not just that he got you fired from your last job, by refusing to pick her up just once, and your boss had enough of you always being late or leaving early.

Your family tried to help out but you were pretty stubborn and wanted to take care of her yourself, also they weren’t dripping in money, quite the opposite in fact, they were struggling and also lived pretty far. You’d been so dumb, you think now, running off with him like that, so blinded by everything that he was saying to you, everything he was making you believe.

You were an idiot.

And not only was he a piece of shit in many aspects, he was dangerous, very dangerous, running with the mafia, things you learned quickly when men showed up at your home with guns. After a furious fight, you’d forgiven him (also like an idiot) but what you couldn’t forgive was also the constant cheating, the making you feel like it was your fault he had to.

After the third time of finding him with someone, you finally packed and left, taking all you had which was barely a thing with your baby boy. He’d threatened you over and over to come back, but you absolutely could not do so. The pain of being with him was too much, especially as he became darker and darker, as he downed you more and more.

Your mind keeps whirling to Sukuna, for some reason the very way he looked at you did shit you haven’t felt in years. You felt excited and nervous, as you even tip your sitter that evening, getting your little boy settled, brushing back his soft hair. “You don’t have to give me this much, babe.”

“Please, you’re a lifesaver!”

“He literally sleeps and I watch Netflix.” She says, and you sigh.

“I know but really, I should be making way more to pay you.” She smiles softly, shaking her head.

“Go on now.”

You’re hastily running inside the locker room, pouring out some makeup from your bag when Sukuna strolls in, tilting his head as he sees you. “Shit, I’m sorry I know I look…”

You look fucking beautiful, bare faced, but Sukuna’s words get caught in his throat. Instead he smirks, opening a locker and handing you a combination. “Got you a few things.”

“Oh thank you so much!” You peer then, at the slinky material, the glitter and mesh outfits, blushing at how much they reveal. “These are so pretty.”

“Just had one of the girls order some shit.” He brushes it off, as you look up at him like that, driving him insane with need for you, you’re in some hoodie and a messy bun again and he doesn’t think that he could find you more attractive, thinking of lifting your hoodie up and sliding inside you.

His thoughts make his head spin, which makes him scowl at you now, why do you have to do this to him? You blink a bit, frowning. “Something wrong?”

“Tch, no, just… get ready. You’re late as fuck you know.”

“I know, Toji said-”

“He givin’ you a hard time, Ma?” Toji saunters in now, and Sukuna glares over at him.

“No, not at all, he bought me outfits actually.” You say softly, holding one up, some little plaid strap of a skirt and a plaid tie. “Ooh this is so hot.”

“Buying girls outfits, Sukuna?” Toji asks curiously, Sukuna rolls his ruby red eyes, shaking his head.

“She didn’t have shit, you should’ve thought to, idiot.”

“Wanna take this out-”

“Hey, hey… I’ll totally pay you back, Mr. Sukuna.”

“No.” Is all he says, as you’re yanking off your hoodie and then your shirt, and you’re just… bare to him, but not just him, to Toji, who he wants to smack for even looking at you. You try on the little outfit, all giddy and giggling, the way your pretty tits look almost take him out. “I have… shit to do.”

Toji snorts, and you look on curiously at him, as you now take off your jeans and hook the little skirt on. “I can’t tell if he likes me or hates me.” You mumble, earning Toji’s laugh.

“Oh he likes ya alright, alright doll, go get ready, it’s about to get real busy in here.”

“Got it.”

Soon you’ve got your wig on, a pink silky one, and glitter dusted all over your skin, you’re getting ready to do a set, nervously spinning around the pole, your muscles are not what they used to be, so you can feel the pull, can see where the floor will be bruising your knees. You’re bending over as men throw bills at you, but you keep catching them, those glinting red eyes of his.

His eyes make you feel like he’s touching you, with those big tattooed hands, you try to shake it off but when he watches you it truly is like he’s touching you. As you meet his eye and rest a hand on the pole, moving your hips in a figure eight motion, you see him through that cloud of smoke, over his glass of whiskey, watching.

After your set is done you come to him, knowing it’s time to show him your dance moves - which you’re not sure are any good anymore. Sukuna tilts his head, and spins a seat on a smaller stage off to the right, eyes raking over your body hungrily. “Time for the show, hmm?”

“Y-yes.” You’re shaking damn near, so close to this man, he just does things to you by existing that you can’t really explain, and now you’re on your knees before him right on that stage, as he hungrily drinks you in. He’s puffing on a blunt, holding it up, but you shake your head. “No thanks.”

“A shy stripper who doesn’t even smoke, huh?” You swear he can see your blush even in the dark room, with the neon lights bouncing off your glittery skin.

“I mean I have before.” You move your hips now, rolling them, turning around and arching up your ass, knowing he can likely see the wet spot in your panties as you do, caused by his very presence.

Sukuna exhales, leaning closer, smoke blowing right against you almost, you feel the warmth and have to bite back a cry, as you shake your ass for him, and he’s thinking of railing you right there. Fuck he wouldn’t even give a shit if anyone saw, actually, as he watches you look back at him, smiling just a bit, so shy and sweet.

“A shy ass stripper, how’s that gonna work though?” He asks, and you’re slinking onto your tummy, he sees it then, the wet spot forming, making him want to rip those panties off and fully see that pretty pussy, so hungry it’s sucking your panties right against your lips.

“Is there no appeal in shy strippers, Mr. Sukuna?” You tease, turning back around, spreading your thighs, pulling at the damp material as he damn near crushes the blunt with his fingers.

“Hmm. So what made you come here?” He asks, voice gruff when you sit back up, breasts right in his face only covered with thin white gauze, he can literally see your nipples tighten as he smokes the blunt again, blowing the smoke up and over you both, cock straining against his boxers.

“To make money?” He smirks when you sigh and take the blunt, inhaling it and coughing all cute, your eyes watering.

“Took a pussy ass hit.”

“I tried!” You glare now, fuck you’re cute.

“Yeah, yeah. Heard Toji say you got a kid.” You pause now, eyes locked on his, heart racing in your chest.

“Is it a problem I do?” You whisper, and he grows serious, shaking his head now, making you exhale in relief.

“Lots of the girls do. The dad not around?”

You laugh without humor. “He sure the fuck isn’t, but he somehow still is, if that makes any sense.”

“Messy?”

“Mhm. This way I get to see him all day and make money, I couldn’t afford full time childcare, my friend is helping for a few hours at night.”

“Ah. Get up there for me.” He murmurs, and you stand, spinning in a slow circle, he notices stares of other men even though you’re off to the side, temporarily thinking you’re just with him instead. “Fuck…”

“Is it okay? I’m rusty and a little out of shape right now.” You say, as you slide back down, coming to your hands and knees, Sukuna takes in every pretty inch of you that’s on display, including a couple stretch marks along your skin that just make you sexier. When you see that you pull up the skirt a bit, nervous. “Shit, sorry…”

“For what? They’re sexy as fuck.” You are blushing furiously, overheated as his thumb brushes over one, the first contact you’ve damn near had with him, shooting desire straight through you.

“You’re being nice to me.”

“I’m not nice.” He says with a bark of a laugh, and then eyes some of his business partners coming in. “These men will pay good, why don’t you just dance for them?”

“Won’t the other girls get upset?” You ask, and he shrugs a broad shoulder.

“Really don’t fucking care, I run this shit.” He puts the blunt out into an ashtray, leaving you with goosebumps, as a strip club owner makes you feel sexier than you ever did with your ex, making your mind race.

Just who was he?

*****

The next week goes by, and every time you’re on a shift, Sukuna is there, he’s always got eyes on you, until it becomes damn near an obsession. If anyone even comes near you the wrong way he’s kicking them out, he puts you in every perfect time to make bank, he’s constantly watching you dance, looking at every pretty outfit he’s buying you.

Soon, Sukuna can’t help but start stroking his cock after your dances, locked in his office, picturing pressing the tip between those plump lips of your pussy, dying to fully see it. He’s got a big hand wrapped around his veiny length at least twice during your shift, and instead of fucking Candy or any of his regulars, he starts ignoring them all, because he needs you.

Sukuna goes so far as to take your panties, you must be curious where three pairs have gone, but he can’t help it, he loves to put them against his face, to stroke his cock with them, until he’s busting a nut all on your panties. He’s irritated, infuriated at this change of events you’ve brought, and he’s short and terse with you, but he still looks out for you even so.

It’s why you can’t help but run to his office, when you see him, your ex is right in the club, and you know he’ll recognize you. Terrified, you're quickly striding into Sukuna’s big fancy office, only to pause at the sight of his huge cock in his hand, gulping as you shut the door, looking away.

“I’m so, so sorry… I…” You turn around, you can’t help but watch the pearls of white precum pumping out of his reddened tip, his tattooed hand pausing his movements, frozen as he eyes you. “It’s my ex, I didn’t want him to see me, shouldn’t have just…”

“Want me to beat him the fuck up? Kick him out?” Sukuna asks then, huffing as he strokes his cock up and down while you step closer, the sight so erotic, as you’re even closer you see it, a little piercing on the underside of his cock, tempting you so badly to take it in your mouth.

“You would do that?” You whisper, leaning over him now, while he twists his fist from the base to the tip, so casual, as if this is a normal conversation, while you wonder if you could even take that much dick.

Shit you’d try.

“Just say the fucking word, I’ll end him for you.” You shake your head now.

“No, you’re already so good to me, Mr. Sukuna.” Your voice is soft like a caress as you eye him, watching his cock jerk in response.

He laughs harshly. “Am I?”

“Why don’t I be good to you?” Sukuna’s brain short circuits when you gently take his hand, sucking the precum off his fingers, wearing nothing but a mini skirt and fucking tassels, he moans at the sight of your cheeks hollowing as you taste him.

“Fuck…” He has been with plenty of women, no one has ever left him speechless like this, just with that little movement. He takes those fingers then, slipping up your inner thigh and shoving your thong to the side, sinking them in, you gasp out, a sexy little whine from your throat destroying him. “Gonna be good to me, huh?” He asks huskily, as he curls his fingers.

You’re gushing down them, nodding and taking his enormous cock in one hand, bracing yourself with the other, barely able to cover a bit of him, stroking him with your soft hand instead, he moans, eyes laser focused on your pretty face. Your pupils are so enlarged he can barely see your pretty eye color, your lips parted when he presses that spongy spot in your gummy little walls.

“Wanna suck me brat, hmm?” You nod now, and he’s trying to keep it together, but when he’s sucking you off his fingers, his cock twitches, oozing more cum when you’re on your knees, looking at him under your lashes.

He yanks your wig off then, letting your hair loose, gripping and pulling while you swirl your tongue along his tip. Sukuna’s never felt like he’s going to bust from a lick, but here you are, ruining him, a mix of him wanting to beat the shit out of anyone who has ever touched you, and wanting to fuck your pretty throat, and your pretty pussy, until you’re drooling.

“Want me to fuck your little throat?” You nod, unable to speak or think, you don’t just do this, but you’re aching, cunt throbbing around nothing as You take as much as you can, breathing through your nose while Sukuna fucks up into your throat over and over, choking and gagging on him, pussy drooling past your panties. “Oh my f-fuck… right there.”

“Mmm.” Is all you can manage, when his big hand is entangled in the nape of your neck, bobbing your head up and down his cock, feeling your tongue swirl around his tip, as he pictures fucking into that pussy he tastes on his fingers again. Picturing burying his face inside you.

What are you doing to him?

He’s losing it further as you suck him as deep as you can, tears in your pretty eyes, so eager, he’s sucking in a breath at feeling just a hint of your teeth hit him, just a nipple on the tip as you take a breath of your own, licking at his piercing. “Look at you, doing such a good job, aren’t you? Slutty lil fuckin brat.”

You really should not like hearing it, but you’re wetter now, so wet you reach down to find your clit, moaning around his length, close to cumming just from how he’s ruining the back of your throat. It burns and stretches as you’re sucking him deeper and deeper, his thrusts hard, fucking your mouth now.

“That’s it, want me to fuck this pretty face, huh? That all those goddamn looks you give me- fuck… y-you… oh my… shit, slow down…” You’re sucking harder though, even when he pulls on your hair, even when he yanks your hand off your clit, sucking your little fingers. “Wanna fucking wreck you, ruin you, god…”

You’re sucking him harder, feeling the piercing roll on your tongue as he sucks you off your fingers, until he’s gasping, and you swear you hear this huge man with a good nine inches whine. Yes, that’s the sound that comes out of those vermillion lips as he shoves your head down, until you’ve got him all the way in the back of your throat, busting inside it.

You’re choking on salty but somehow sweet cum, drinking it all down as you exhale through your nose, mascara leaking down your cheeks as you take him all, and Sukuna literally can’t even see for a minute. He’s crying out like a little bitch all because you’re somehow psychotically good at sucking him!?

“Fuck… you brat… didn’t wanna bust-fuck!” He’s groaning now, yanking you off finally, and looking at those mascara trails on your pretty cheeks, at your fucked out expression and swollen lips.

“Didn’t think I’d swallow before I got a kiss.” You whisper, voice hoarse, and he yanks you up now, having you straddle his lap, cock still hard, just a little softer, but Sukuna on soft was still huge. You look right at him, your breaths coming in little pants as he studies you, moaning softly, brushing a thumb over your lip.

“Ya want a kiss? So fuckin’ sappy, huh?” He demands, and you smile just a bit, leaning closer, your lips a breath away.

“You so badass you don’t kiss girls, Sukuna?” It’s the first time you’ve just called him that, and the way he can almost taste his cum on your lips ends him, but he sure won’t show it, instead he’s gripping your tits, watching your face scrunch up in pleasure, smirking up at you.

“Wanna kiss me so bad? Want me to fuckin’ fill you?” He whispers, and you whimper then. “Pathetic.”

“Please.” Is all you whisper, and he’s kissing you then, when he kisses you he thinks he likes it as much as busting in your damn mouth, if that’s even possible, his tongue drippy and messy as it wars with yours. He’s drinking your cries, pulling your body so close against his.

“Shit…” He mumbles, he’s never felt anything like this, yeah he kisses because it’s kind of hot to, but you do something, something in his tummy clenching right along with yours, you feel it, that energy, as your puffy cunt presses on his again hard cock, and he’s biting your lower lip so rough.

“Sukuna…” You whisper, whining out, forgetting your ex completely, forgetting anything right now, and he looks at you under sooty pink lashes, making your pussy throb in need.

Sukuna kisses you hungrier now, his hands all over you, rough and hot and brutal, when suddenly the door opens, and Toji whistles. “Damn, okay… I got no chance, huh?”

“Toji get the fuck out.” Sukuna grumbles, but you panic then, remembering who you are. You have a kid and you’re just… on your knees sucking this man’s dick, about to fucking ride him.

It’s one thing to dance, but how are you losing yourself so quickly in him? It was like every problem faded, but it’s stupid, so stupid.

“I should go, I’m sorry…” You’re running out then, and soon you’re getting ready to leave for the night, when Sukuna corners you against the wall, the wind blowing through your hair as he bars you on either side with big muscled arms. “Sukuna…”

“You just ran, the fuck?” He grabs your chin, making your eyes meet his. “Come over tonight.”

You gasp then. “But… you got off.”

“And you didn’t, what kinda man are you taking me for, hmm?” His words make that ache return, as he’s got a thigh between yours, hissing. “She wants to cum, doesn’t she?” You nod weakly.

“I’m… I don’t do this.”

“And I don’t ask to do this.” He doesn’t beg either, but he’d beg for you, god he would. “Come let me take care of you.”

“I can’t…”

“Stop thinking and-”

“No, I can’t, I have my kid.” He pauses then, falling back just a bit, despite having this obsession with you, he still does not know enough yet, about your life, about you. He finds himself enamored as his lips part, and he studies you, the light from the moon glowing and casting a million diamonds off your still glittery skin.

God you’re so beautiful.

“When are you free?” He asks, and you sigh.

“Maybe tomorrow night? I’d have to pay my-”

“I’ll pay whatever extra.” He cuts you off. “Just… make sure you have a night.”

“Okay…” You never spend much time without your kid, it makes you just a little nervous, but something about him is luring you in, drawing you closer. “I mean he’s asleep anyway at night so I should be able to have the sitter stay.”

“He? A son?” He murmurs, and you nod, smiling a bit as he now is walking you to your car, the way you light up is so pretty, as he eyes your shitty ass car. God he can’t wait to take care of you, he thinks, have you dripping in money.

“Yes, a son. He’s my everything, it’s why I’m here.”

Sukuna wants to be something to you. He sighs then, seatbelting you in, a gesture caring and sweet, Sukuna is an enigma you realize, as he cups your face, eyeing your lips, and you wonder wildly if he will kiss you, but he just hovers. “I’ll see you tomorrow, hmm?”

“Yes. Goodnight, Sukuna.” You whisper, as he shuts your door, watching you drive away.

You will be his, there’s no choice really.

Okay I know this isn't like my other storieesss but it's been killing me and I need to get it out. Hope it's not too crazy lol? Sukuna is gonna be even more Yan as we go lol

Taglist# 1 - @naammiii @naina326 @1worm1 @yenayaps @shokosbunny @sukubusss @msniks @kittyyyyykats @nyxly1412 @trashsuarecan @dumbbunny98 @monster-effer @tojis-ball-sack @tangsakura @friesnkwtchup @uhnosav @lhhlver @attackonnat @moonchhu @mat-mat-mat @cherryjain17 @havkjhdecs @stargirl-mayaa @waterfal-ling @the-dark-creature @lulunx @minaa-06 @spacefae-x @deitysdream @sorahatake @gojoscumslut @stainednailpolishremover @kidd3ath @clp-84 @rinkomei @catastayy @oneirataxiaa @inthedarkshadows000 @travistheaussie @cold-blooded-girls @emi311 @blublublubby @fluttershyfangs @actuallynarii @7thsthings @ilovemeni @erluu @for-hearthand-home @angellliqua

[avatarnarumitsu]

Transcribed handwriting + Additional notes:

MIt'eyktan (Miles Edgeworth):

Sea clan complexion from his birth clan, stands out within his home (adopted) clan

Signature white bone chest piece, red threading

Ears (frequently pulled back in annoyance)

Considerably tall, but also fairly well built (A brick wall, much like his human source material)

Feenix (Phoenix) Wright

His avatar has picked up his signature spikes as well as his lightning shaped eyebrows

The Na'vi DNA was taken from the local clan, and as such he matches them, although his Avatar is a bit bulkier due to the human DNA

Keeps a token from Mia on a chain that he refuses to get rid of

[biblically-accurate-dca]

assorted dca wips i probably won't ever touch again (sorted from newest to oldest!)

very rambly explainations for each image under the cut ^_^

1.) aug 28th, 2024 -- i started this around the time where i'd just gotten into something else and basically just detached myself from the dca... and therefore all my art with them got way more experimental and personal to me and my tastes bc i'd just stopped caring about them LOL

i do wish i'd finished this one though because i love how the body looks! i don't remember ever starting this with much of a plan though and i very visibly got bored once i drew all the fun parts (i hate drawing their legs)

2.) oct 1st, 2024 -- this could technically be considered vent artwork? i wanted to make something purposefully grotesque and unnerving because i was just really angry at the fandom all the time... and it doesnt help that whenever i get into something new i go through a weird breakup phase with my old interest (which might not make sense to some people lol) which causes some weird feelings.

a less angsty thing i can mention is that i was also very purposefully trying to be more relaxed about the way i paint things here! i usually strictly adhere to a set palette i make for myself, so this drawing was me pushing myself out of that comfort zone and forcing myself to freestyle the colors a bit... the result didnt really end up how i wanted it to be though (^^;; )

3.) oct 9th, 2024 -- iirc this was me elaborating on a physical sketch i made where i was playing around with their face... i actually still really, really like this style and this drawing might've been the best way i've ever done it. fluid and expressive but still grotesque enough for it to stay true to their original design! this is the thing i reference whenever i draw them this way (and if you look at my most recent post you might notice some similarities?)

4.) may 11th, 2024 -- MANN i wish i'd finished this one!!! it was a redraw of this drawing based off of "chimera" by deco*27!! i've always associated that song with the dca but i didn't give it justice the first time i drew it due to the time constraints so i wanted to do it better!!! but then i got stuck on the hands 😭

if i was ever going to pick one of these back up again there's a good chance it'd be this one

5.) jul 18th, 2024 -- nothing truly profound to say here as this was actually just a test... never got around to adding a body to it, mainly because i just like drawing their face more than i like drawing the rest of them. you can probably look at all of these and realize that for yourself though LMAO

[masquayla-the-splendid]

Bolts4Brains Update: 1/27/25

I drew some things and I noted some things.

All I wanted to do was see how I wanted to format this scene, because it's an oddly cropped sketch in the storyboard! I didn't think I'd make it a full clean drawing! 😭

He's missing his hand of anguish, but it's from this part.

Context: None of the Funtime's heads were compatible with their plan, so they used a spare. (Operating under the Coils Cranium idea that I might make a separate post explaining in better detail.) Attaching this half baked Coils head that has been sitting in a filing cabinet for however long to it's tortured pals leaves an imprint on him.

Another thing I did was draw out some other concepts of my fnaf interp that will be relevant for B4B.

I used Ballora as an example, because Ballora doesn't learn to pretend, and gets scooped.

I had to take another look at the Scooper Blueprint to make sure my interpretation isn't too heavy on the headcanon, and I noted a few things.

This Scooper does not look like the one we see in Sister Location. It's missing the funny wiggly wires, the beams are different, and it's set differently.

"Excavating arm" is the actual shovel part.

The injector is labeled in an odd position, but if you take a closer look, one of the beams phases into the back of the shovel part. This is the injector. It would make sense, because the shovel part could just unhinge and not do a scooping motion.

"Leave trace line amount on interior" I noted this on one of the drawings I shared. The wording of this point is weird, but from it's additional notes, if remnant is over-used or over-exposed, it cancels out the ghost power. This whole point is pretty much saying 'don't be haphazard with this stuff, it's hard to obtain.'

The circle shapes are wheel shaped. The 3 segmented square labeled "remnant reservoir" is eye catching, but there is also a longer rectangle that starts just above its base. This could be either a pump for the arm mechanism, or for the remnant to reach the injector.

There are dots where you think hinges or points of rotation would be, but there are 4 very specifically placed dots in the reservoir alone.

[tincta-aurum]

my process is loosely as follows:

get a reference and look at the values and colors and get a bunch of markers (i use ohuhu alcohol markers) for the lightest value and ones in between. i usually don't set a darkest value from the get go because a lot of it is layering and experimenting, but i want to at least have some colors to start with and lay down a base. usually i get a bunch of skin tones and two to four cold tones, depending on what the reference seems to call for. the colors don't have to be an exact match because you're never gonna be able to exactly match the tone with a limited palette. keep in mind that this is mostly a face rendering tutorial because portraits are about the only things i've done with markers lol, but i'll try to keep it applicable to other things as well?

(also, something important to keep in mind is wet vs dry - this is less of a thing with alcohol markers - if you're layering over a part that you've just colored on the marker is going to bleed. this is a good thing for blending!! but if you want cleaner shapes i'd wait a bit for the page to dry before coloring to do smaller details or different parts of the drawing like skin bordering hair, etc. the wet/dry divide is more obvious in mediums like watercolor, but it's still a useful thing to take advantage of and be aware of.)

so i generally use a lot of layering for each portrait. the first layer is coloring in some shapes of where the darkest shadows are, using the brush tip of the marker. (keep in mind that i also spend a while sketching out a guideline) then i use the chisel tip to color the entire face in, while it's still "wet". (save the eyes, although you could do that too because this is a light color and eyes are generally in shadow anyway. also to be noted: keep these first strokes brief because layering the same color can darken it.)

now that all the white space has been covered for the subject i go in with either a darker shade of a skin tone or a cold tone. i find that lighter, cold tones (like blue and purple) elevate shading a lot if used right. ("right" being where light might be reflected onto bottom-facing facial planes or where shadows intersect, or just as light shadows.)

then i just layer various colors i've selected, (while selecting more sometimes lol) keeping in mind facial planes and structure and looking at the values of my reference until i'm satisfied. generally then i push myself to darken the shadows a bit more and add details as necessary. the hair is similar - lay down a foundation color, analyse shapes and values and layer.

i usually also outline stuff with a pen (forgot what brand it is but i'm sure any pen works lol) and add highlights with a white acrylic pen! (sometimes i color over the white and or dab at it while it's still drying so it's not as bright) this is. quite lengthy but it's the short and long of it. ^u^

some mechanisms marker drawings ;0;

[tiredela]

nerevar wip, based on that morrowind birthday art

[bizzyboyfriends]

Made a athf s/i. This exists now.

[fatedroses]

Needed to make a reference for myself for Varis so you guys get him young and with zenos' mom.

[arolesbianism]

Man oni can't do this to me I'm supposed to be preparing for artfight but all I can think abt is Them™ from the second I wake up to the moment I go to bed how am I supposed to prepare in these circumstances 😔

[leavingautumn13]

so, here's a question.

and i want to preface this by saying i'm not doing this yet, just considering the possibility since my circumstances have changed from a couple years ago, and i've had a lot of fun with the requests i've gotten to do for people recently.

if i were to open commissions, strictly in the style of the sketch requests i've done, would people be interested? they'd be cheap--i'm thinking $20 flat per character with one revision (or two, depending on how minor it is), monochrome but with a choice of color by the commissioner, and wouldn't have to just be canon characters. i like drawing ocs, too (provided of course they have a reference).

all of the above would be to keep myself from getting overwhelmed, and balance my ability to work quickly and turn out work i'm satisfied with, and i'd only work on one at a time.

something to consider--again, not happening for a while if it does, maybe won't happen at all. just trying to gauge interest since i have a ton of new followers.

[loregoddess]

why does art have to be so art

[roaringheat]

oh the woes of being a mid artist...........

[surielstea]

Undercover Affection

Based on a request!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: While on a mission with Azriel, you must pretend to be a couple. During which it’s revealed that Azriel and you are mated.

Warnings: none (that I know of)

A.Note: After a month of ghosting you guys I’m finally back!! And with a fic I’m very proud of so I hope you guys enjoy!!

7.9k word count.

The instructions had been simple enough: "Blend in, gather information, and avoid getting caught." But for some reason, Rhysand had thought it necessary to throw in an extra condition—one Azriel seemed to want to claw his way out of.

"I work alone." The shadow singer gritted through his teeth, shadows billowing over his impressively sized wings.

"Not for this mission, you won't." The High Lord immediately dismisses him, not batting an eye at the male who perhaps every other fae in Prythian was terrified of.

"She's not ready, she'll be a distraction." Azriel counters. A foreign part of you panged with disappointment at that. Did he really find you so incompetent?

Rhys argues back immediately, his anger beginning to ramp up to meet Azriel's and you quickly decide you didn't want to be anywhere near when they collided. "You told me yourself just last week she's the best spy you've ever trained."

Your eyebrows lift a fraction at what Rhys had unconsciously confessed, the barest reaction but enough for the shadow singer to pick up on. His hazel eyes flicked to your own gaze, then back to Rhysand's.

They seemed to be having a conversation, one you couldn't hear. You doubted you'd ever get used to that, the way Rhys could slip into someone's mind—even someone as guarded as Azriel. A shiver went down your spine as you thought about the power of the High Lord of Night.

"You have to be out of your mind if you think I'll ever put her in that kind of danger." Azriel seethed to his brother through the mental connection, unable to even fathom the idea of you having a target on your back.

"She may be your mate but she is also your disciple, did you seriously think she'd never go out into the field?" Rhys could sense his anger, feel it ebbing against a shield that was thinning.

"I only taught her spy work so she'd know how to protect herself—never to put her in harm's way," Azriel says, his frustration making his voice sound almost pleading.

"Then you know she can protect herself. You will be beside her every step of the way, what she wants to do is entirely her decision." Rhys remarks.

"And what if the bond snaps? It could jeopardize the mission—much more, her safety." Azriel poses, the scenario would make all hell break loose in all situations.

"Are you implying you can't keep her safe?" Rhys taunts, the words finding their mark in the Spy Masters head.

You watch their expressions closely, attempting to pick up on what they were saying but the only reaction you could spot was the way Azriel's jaw feathered as he pushed off Rhysand's desk and turned to me.

"Do you think you're ready for this?" There was a certain softness in his eyes you only got rare glimpses of, the sight making you swallow hard.

Your throat felt tight, but you straightened your shoulders and lifted your chin. "I am." Your voice didn't waver, though the intensity of his hazel eyes made it a near thing.

Rhys sighed, leaning back in his chair as he surveyed you both with a calculating air. The quiet smile tugging at his lips felt almost dangerous like he already knew the outcome of a game you hadn't even realized you were playing.

"The ball," he began, voice smooth, "is being hosted by High Fae whose loyalty to Prythian is questionable at best. Whispers suggest they're courting alliances with forces hostile to Velaris. If true, this could be the first move toward rebellion."

He slid a detailed sketch across the desk. The male's sharp features and cold, calculating eyes etched into the paper made your stomach tighten. Rhys's voice remained steady as he continued. "Kaieel is the orchestrator. We need names, allies, plans—anything we can use to dismantle his efforts before they gain traction. The masks and secrecy of the event work in our favor. You'll attend, blend in with the crowd, and leave no trace of your presence."

"And our cover?" you asked, though you weren't sure you wanted the answer.

Rhys's lips twitched. "Newlyweds."

The single word hit you like a jolt of lightning. Your heart stumbled, catching somewhere between shock and disbelief. "A couple?" you uttered, trying to keep your voice even.

"A young pair enamored with each other and blissfully distracted. The perfect cover." Rhys's eyes sparkled with mirth, though his tone was all business. "An unattached male draws suspicion. A pair in love does not."

Azriel didn't react outwardly, but his silence spoke volumes. You risked a glance at him, finding his gaze fixed somewhere distant. Was the idea truly so unbearable to him?

"The priority," Rhys continued, "is information. If your cover is compromised, you extract yourselves immediately. But until then, you'll need to act the part—dancing, whispering... perhaps even a kiss or two, if the situation calls for it."

"Rhys," Azriel growled, low and lethal.

Rhys only smirked, clearly enjoying his brother's discomfort. "Relax, Az. You might even have fun. Any questions?"

You shook your head, pulse hammering. The mission was simple in theory, but with Azriel by your side—close enough to feel his warmth, to brush against the bond neither of you had spoken of—it felt like you were stepping into something far more dangerous than a ballroom full of enemies.

"Good," Rhys said, dismissing you both with a wave. "You leave at dusk."

Azriel turned abruptly, the tension in his wings a visible reminder of the storm brewing within him. As he stalked toward the door, you followed, already bracing yourself for the days to come.

Whatever lay ahead, one thing was clear: the mission wouldn't just test your skills as a spy—it would test every fragile boundary you and Azriel had built between the two of you.

—

You smoothed your hands down the fabric of your gown, the soft, luxurious material clinging perfectly to your frame before pooling at your feet. It was a deep shade of midnight grey, almost black, designed to shimmer as if it were the color of the moon itself, glimmering silver in the right lighting. The neckline dipped just enough to be daring without crossing into scandalous, and the fitted bodice accentuated every curve. The gown was a far cry from the shadowy leathers you had grown accustomed to during training.

Your fingers brushed over the mask lying on the vanity before you. It was delicate, intricate silver filigree adorned with tiny crystals that caught the light to match my dress. The sight of it alone made your stomach twist with nerves, though you refused to let the feeling take hold. You were a spy, not some jittery debutante.

Focus.

Your gaze shifted to the mirror as you adjusted the gown again, letting out a slow breath. The transformation was undeniable; the person staring back at you looked like they belonged at this kind of event. For a moment, you barely recognized yourself, and that unfamiliarity was almost reassuring. If you didn't recognize yourself, maybe no one else would either.

The soft knock at the door startled you. You turned, calling out, "Come in."

The door creaked open, and Azriel stepped inside, closing it behind him with deliberate care.

Your breath was stolen from your lungs at the sight of the Shadow Singer.

He wore an all-black suit that looked as though it had been tailored specifically for him—and knowing the resources of the Night Court, it probably had. The sharp lines of the jacket emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, and the subtle sheen of the fabric only added to the air of elegance that clung to him. His wings were glamoured away, leaving no trace of their presence—which was upsetting, but it was his eyes that made up for it—those piercing hazel eyes, framed by long lashes that truly captured your attention. They swept over you in a single, assessing glance, and you swore you caught the faintest flicker of surprise before his features smoothed into their usual calm.

"You look..." His voice trailed off, and for once, he seemed at a loss for words.

"Like I'm about to infiltrate a ball filled with potential traitors to Velaris?" you offered lightly, trying to break the tension that had settled in the room.

"I was going to say beautiful, but that works too," he said simply, his voice low and even. The words sent a strange warmth curling through your chest, though you quickly buried it.

Azriel crossed the room, the measured grace of his movements a reminder of the lethal precision he carried with him always. He stopped just in front of you, holding out his hand. "Your mask."

You hesitated for a fraction of a second before handing it to him. His gloved fingers brushed against yours as he took it, and you were acutely aware of how close he was as he moved behind you.

The brush of his knuckles against your temple sent a shiver down your spine as he adjusted the mask, tying the soft ribbons at the back of your head with deft fingers. His scent—night-chilled mist and cedar—wrapped around you, a quiet distraction that made it hard to focus.

"There," he murmured, adjusting your hair around the ribbon before stepping back just enough for you to turn and face him. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment, and you wondered if he could sense the way your pulse quickened.

"You clean up well," you said, tilting your head slightly. "Almost didn't recognize you without all the shadows."

He raised a brow, a hint of amusement flickering across his face. "You'll have to forgive me for not returning the compliment."

Your lips twitched. "And why's that?"

"Because if I did, we'd be here all night," he replied smoothly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a rare, fleeting smile.

You blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected flirtation. Azriel's humor was subtle, almost elusive, but when it surfaced, it always left you reeling.

Before you could find a response, you remembered the last detail. "Oh, wait." You turned back to the vanity, retrieving the small box you'd nearly forgotten. Inside were two rings—simple, elegant bands meant to complete your cover as a married couple.

You slipped one onto your finger, the cool metal fitting perfectly, the sapphire stone placed atop it glimmering in the sunsetting light. You hold out the other to him. "Rhys gave them to me, for authenticity," you said, keeping your tone light despite the awkwardness that had crept into the air.

Azriel's gaze dropped to the ring in your hand, his expression unreadable as he took it. For a moment, you thought he might protest, but instead, he slid it onto his finger with careful precision.

He slipped it onto his finger without breaking eye contact, the deliberate slowness of the action making your heart race. "There," he said, holding his hand up to examine the ring. "How do I look as your doting husband?"

You took a step back, pretending to assess him with a critical eye. "Hmm, you'll pass—just barely. Try smiling a little more. You're supposed to be madly in love with me, remember?"

Azriel leaned in slightly, his hazel eyes glinting with amusement. "If I smile too much, they'll think I've lost my mind."

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. "Fair enough."

He reached out then, his hand brushing yours as he straightened an imaginary crease in the sleeve of your gown. The touch was fleeting but enough to send warmth creeping up your neck. When he pulled back, the air between you was thick with unspoken tension.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice soft but steady.

You nodded, grabbing the silver clutch from the vanity and looping it over your wrist. "As I'll ever be."

Azriel extended his arm, a rare gesture that made your lips twitch in surprise. "Shall we, gorgeous?" he teased, his tone low and smooth.

You slid your hand through the crook of his arm, matching his smirk with one of your own. "Lead the way, handsome." Whatever this mission had in store, it was clear the most dangerous thing you'd face tonight wasn't Kaieel or his allies. It was Azriel—and the way he made you feel.

—

The ballroom glittered like a scene from a dream, opulent and indulgent in every detail. Chandeliers sparkled with a thousand lights overhead, their glow casting a soft radiance across the sea of masked figures swirling on the marble floor. The air buzzed with muted conversations, laughter, and the soft strains of a symphony playing in the background.

Your arm was looped through Azriel's, his warmth bleeding into you even through the layers of your gown and his tailored suit. He guided you into the crowd with an ease that belied his tension, his hazel eyes scanning every face, every shadow, every corner.

"Stay close," he murmured, the words just for you, his breath brushing against your temple. His voice, low and commanding, sent a shiver down your spine, though you quickly disguised it as a nod of agreement.

"Hard to get closer than this," you quipped softly, unable to resist. You felt him stiffen slightly under your hand, his wings—glamoured away but somehow still present in your mind—practically bristling with restrained energy.

He didn't respond, but the faintest curve of his lips betrayed him. If it weren't for the mask obscuring part of his face, you might have caught the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Instead, his focus shifted, scanning the room until it landed on your target.

Kaieel stood near the far edge of the room, his tall frame commanding attention even in this crowd of nobles. His mask, dark and menacing, covered much of his face, but his icy blue eyes gleamed through the filigree, sharp and calculating. A small circle of sycophants surrounded him, laughing too loudly at his every word. He raised a crystal flute to his lips, sipping lazily as though the fate of Prythian wasn't potentially hanging on his next move.

"Eyes on Kaieel," Azriel murmured, tilting his head just enough for his words to reach you. "But keep it subtle. The last thing we want is him noticing our interest too early."

"Subtlety is my specialty," you whispered back, earning a flick of his gaze, though he said nothing. His grip on your hand tightened as he steered you toward the dance floor.

Before you could question him, Azriel pivoted smoothly, releasing your arm only to catch your hand and pull you into a waltz. The sudden movement startled you, your other hand landing instinctively on his shoulder as he spun you into the rhythm of the music.

"A dance?" you asked, arching a brow as you tried to ignore the way his hand settled on your waist, firm but not overbearing.

"Blending in," he replied simply, though the set of his jaw betrayed the faintest hint of awkwardness. "Everyone else is dancing. And from here, we have a better view of Kaieel."

You followed his lead, your feet moving in time with his despite the distraction of his proximity. The bond hummed faintly at the back of your mind, an awareness you fought to suppress as you focused on the task at hand. His scent—cedar and chilled mist—wrapped around you, grounding and maddening all at once.

"So," you ventured, your voice low, "do we just stare at him all night, or do we actually have a plan?"

Azriel's lips twitched, a ghost of a smile. "Patience. Kaieel will make his move eventually. Until then, we observe."

"Observation is all well and good," you said, your tone light despite the weight of the moment, "but what if he decides to slip away before we get what we need?"

"He won't," Azriel replied, his confidence a quiet anchor in the storm of your nerves. "He's too arrogant to think anyone here is a threat to him."

You were about to respond when Kaieel's laugh cut through the music, sharp and derisive. Your gaze flicked toward him in time to see him gesture grandly to his circle, drawing their attention—and yours. The words he spoke were lost in the distance, but the smug tilt of his head and the pointed glance he cast toward a cloaked figure in the corner sent a chill down your spine.

"Did you see that?" you murmured, tilting your head subtly toward Kaieel.

Azriel's grip on your waist tightened imperceptibly. "I saw. He's signaling someone."

Your next step faltered, and Azriel steadied you instantly, his hand at your back pressing you closer. "Careful," he murmured, his voice low enough to send a shiver through you. "If you trip, they'll notice."

"Noted," you said, your cheeks warming despite yourself. You tilted your head again, pretending to focus on him as you spoke. "The cloaked figure in the corner. Could be a contact."

"Could be," Azriel agreed, his hazel eyes flicking toward the figure in question. "But we won't know for sure until we get closer."

"And how do you propose we do that without drawing attention?" you asked, trying to ignore the way his hand seemed to linger on your back, his thumb brushing against the fabric of your gown in a way that felt almost deliberate.

Azriel's lips curved into a smirk, subtle but unmistakable. "Leave that to me."

Before you could question him further, the song ended, and he stepped back, bowing slightly as he offered you his arm again. You accepted it, allowing him to guide you off the dance floor and toward the far side of the room. Kaieel's attention was still focused on his circle, oblivious to your approach.

Azriel leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "We'll circle the room, make small talk, and get close enough to overhear. Follow my lead."

"Always," you replied softly, the word slipping out before you could stop it. Azriel's gaze snapped to yours, something unreadable flickering in his eyes, but he said nothing as he led you deeper into the crowd.

The mission demanded your focus, but with Azriel at your side, his presence steady and unyielding, you couldn't help but wonder if the real danger tonight wasn't the secrets hidden in this ballroom—but the ones you carried in your heart.

You move through the ballroom like smoke, seamlessly blending with the opulent crowd. Strangers smile at you—glittering masks of civility over a sea of intentions. They don't need to know who you are; your presence, the confident tilt of your chin, and the luxury of your attire tell them enough. Wealth recognizes power, even in passing.

When you wave at a woman standing beside Kaieel, she returns the gesture, though her eyes narrow ever so slightly, a flicker of confusion betraying her effort to place you. Still, she beckons you closer with the smooth grace of someone accustomed to command.

"Lady Reven," Azriel murmurs in your ear, his voice as soft and deliberate as the shadows that cling to him. "Ex-wife of Kaieel. The hostess of tonight's spectacle."

"She invited her ex-husband?" you ask under your breath, your smile unwavering despite the furrow of your brows.

"He's funding it," Azriel replies, his golden eyes scanning the room. "This way, he and his associates can conspire without his name attached. If the plot unravels—"

"She takes the fall," you finish, your mind catching up to the threads he's weaving.

"Precisely," he says with a wry twist of his lips. Then, with a pointed glance at Lady Reven, he adds, "And she, my love, is your key to him."

Your heart stumbles at his phrasing. Your key? You open your mouth to protest, but he silences you with a slight tilt of his head. "I won't be far," he assures you, his voice a soft promise. And then, as if sensing your doubt, the cool, silken pressure of shadows winds beneath your dress, curling around your thigh like an unspoken vow. The sensation is enough to make your knees threaten to buckle.

"What do I even say to her?" you whisper, frowning.

Azriel chuckles, low and teasing. "Have you forgotten all your training already?" The confidence in his tone steadies you. "You'll do just fine. I'll fetch us drinks and join you shortly," he adds, leaning down to press a brief, warm kiss to your temple before vanishing into the crowd like mist.

You force a breath into your lungs and set your shoulders, willing confidence into your stride as you cross the ballroom. The shadows move with you, unseen but ever-present, their cool touch synchronizing with the rhythm of your steps.

As you approach a table laden with crystalline champagne flutes and decadent sweets, your ears tune in to the sharp edges of Lady Reven's voice, drifting from where she speaks to a maid.

"And make sure he leaves alone tonight," she hisses. "He's humiliated me enough in public without dragging some—other female into it."

The maid nods, scurrying off, and you let your gaze fall to the intricately carved edge of the table. The urge to fidget nearly overcomes you before Lady Reven's voice pulls you from the habit.

"I wouldn't bother with the chocolates," she says coolly, stepping closer.

You glance at her, feigning an easy smile. "Good to know." You nod. "I've never been one for sweets anyway, Lady Reven."

Her ruby-red lips curl upward in a knowing smirk. "Have we met?" she asks, her sharp eyes studying you with thinly veiled suspicion.

"Only on paper," you reply smoothly. "My husband works for Kaieel."

Recognition softens her features. "Ah, a friend of Kaieel is a friend of mine," she purrs. "Call me Valenia."

"Of course. Valenia," you echo with a nod, subtly testing the name.

"And where is your husband tonight?" she asks, gesturing vaguely to the glittering crowd.

You tilt your head with a small laugh. "Fetching me something stronger than this champagne," you quip, gesturing towards the burbling fountain of sparkling wine in the center. The honesty surprises her into a laugh of her own.

"Well, I'll have to apologize for the watered-down drinks," she says lightly, her tone dripping with feigned humility.

"No need. This is a stunning event," you counter, gesturing to the ballroom.

A flicker of satisfaction crosses her face. "I think we're alike, you and I," she muses, before looping her arm through yours. "Come. I'll introduce you to Kaieel."

Your pulse quickens as she steers you across the room. You catch Azriel's golden gaze from where he's threading through the crowd, his expression unreadable but his presence grounding.

"I really should wait for my husband," you try, a nervous laugh slipping out. "We've been recently married, couldn't keep him away if I tried." You attempt to excuse.

"Then it'll be easy for him to find us, hm?" Valenia dismisses with a wink, tugging you forward until you're standing before Kaieel himself.

Kaieel was sprawled on a chaise lounge, maids bringing him drinks, butlers feeding him by hand like he was some kind of king. Even Rhys wasn't this ostentatious. His turquoise eyes fell on you as Lady Raven guided you towards him, dragging his gaze across every inch of your figure. You did your best to ignore it, giving him a bashful smile.

"What have I done to deserve the company of two such radiant creatures?" Kaieel drawls, his grin wide and smug as he leans back in his seat.

"Kai," Valenia greets, her tone deceptively warm, intimacy still flowing between them. "This is—oh, dear, I fear I never got your name."

Before you can answer, an arm slides around your shoulders, pulling you into the familiar scent of cedar and night mist, the warmth of his hold makes your tense shoulders relax.

"Mrs. Lawmore," Azriel announces smoothly, answering for you as he gives Kaieel a grin, his smile disarming as he shields you beneath his presence.

"Lawmore?" Kaieel's eyes narrow with interest. "Lysan Lawmore, is that you under that mask?"

Azriel bows his head slightly, keeping his eyes down in fear of being caught. "It's been some time, apology for my absence but my beautiful wife here needed to be spoiled after our wedding night." You didn't want to know what happened to the real Lysan, neither did you want to know what Azriel did to him to get this information out of him.

"And how exactly did you win over such a lovely companion?" Kaieel continues, taking your hand with practiced charm, his lips brushing lightly over the sapphire on your ring finger.

You smile, tilting your head bashfully. "I believe I was the one winning him over," you say, cutting in before Azriel can.

Azriel's fingers trail from your shoulder down your arm, taking your hand from Kaieel's grasp and threading his fingers with yours. His touch is possessive but gentle, a silent claim.

"How sweet," Kaieel remarks, raising his glass in mock toast. "Remember when we were like that, darling?"

Valenia's eyes flash, her smirk tightening as she looks away. "They're newlyweds, Kai. Still in the honeymoon phase."

"Newlyweds, you say? Well, then," Kaieel says with a devilish grin. "We must celebrate. Let's toast!" He stood, raising his glass. He didn't have to so much as say a word for the entire ballroom to halt and turn to him.

"So kind of all of you to join us on this fine evening, not only are we celebrating this beautiful gathering the lovely Valenia put together," He pauses for a moment to gesture towards the woman who gave a practiced smile and an elegant wave of her hand. "But we are also celebrating the recently pronounced Mr. And Mrs. Lawmore!" He raises his glass, and even if none of these people so much as knew your name, they cheered anyway. Like puppets on a string, controlled by Kaieel himself.

"Go on," Kaieel presses, leaning forward with a wicked glint in his eye. "Kiss the bride."

The demand sends a shiver down your spine. Even the shadows twining around your legs seem to still, waiting.

Azriel was already staring at you, his eyes searching yours. His lips quirk into a soft, almost shy smile, and the question in his gaze is unmistakable.

You nod, barely perceptibly.

"Come here, love," he murmurs, his voice coaxing, tender.

Your lips met, fitting together with startling, unspoken precision—like the final piece of a puzzle you never realized was incomplete until it clicked into place. The kiss lasted only a heartbeat, but in that fleeting moment, everything shifted. The air between the two of you thickened, buzzing with a quiet intensity, as if the universe itself had paused to watch.

Something deep inside you stirred, a part of yourself you'd long buried or perhaps never even known. It unfurled like a blossom in the first light of dawn, warm and aching, a golden thread spinning itself between you. It twined tighter with every second, binding not just your bodies but something deeper, something elemental.

For that brief, infinite instant, there was no ballroom, no crowd, no mission. Just the two of you—two souls suspended in the gravity of a pull you couldn't name but could feel down to your very bones.

And then, like the breathless silence before a storm, realization hit you with shattering clarity. This wasn't just a kiss. It was him. Azriel.

Your mate.

The kiss ended as gently as it began, your eyes wide and searching but he remained calm and steady, you whisper, "You've known?"

Azriel's gaze flickers to your lips, then back to your eyes, as if he was going to kiss you again, and again, and again until the gods themselves had to rip him from you. But before he can answer, the room erupts into applause, Kaieel's voice booming with praise.

Even as the crowd cheers and music resumes, you hear nothing but the pounding of your heart, feel nothing but the truth that thrums in your blood.

Mate.

And he knew.

You don't have time to process the truth searing through your veins. Mate. The word echoes in your mind like a thunderclap, threatening to drown out everything else. But Azriel's hand tightens around yours, steady and grounding. His golden eyes flicker with something unreadable—a mix of reassurance and warning—and you understand: you can't falter. Not here. Not now.

Kaieel's voice cuts through the applause, smug and commanding. "Come now, don't let the celebration stop the night's festivities. Dance, drink, enjoy yourselves!" His hand sweeps over the crowd, his charisma intoxicating, pulling their attention away from you. For now.

"You're too kind, Kaieel," Azriel says. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to spend some time with my wife."

Azriel tugs gently on your hand, guiding you away from the center of the ballroom. You follow, trying to shake the weight of the bond snapping into place. But even as he leads you, the golden thread between you hums with a new, undeniable awareness, the shadows brushing against you like a silent promise.

He doesn't speak until you've reached the edge of the room, tucked into the shadowy recess of a grand marble column. His lips are close to your ear, his voice low and smooth. "Are you with me?"

You nod, the words caught in your throat.

"Good," he murmurs. "We need to move fast. Valenia is the key to his plans. Now that you become acquainted we can use her."

You blink, willing yourself to focus. "How?"

"She's vulnerable," Azriel says, his tone edged with calculation. "Kaieel still holds power over her, and it's clear she despises him for it. We can exploit that. Learn who his allies are, how he's funding this rebellion. If we play her right, she'll give us everything."

You glance toward the center of the room, where Valenia stands at Kaieel's side, her posture poised but her eyes cold as she watches him bask in the attention of the crowd. Her mask of indifference is expertly crafted, but you can see the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers tighten around her champagne flute.

"She definitely hates him," you say quietly. "But will she betray him?"

Azriel's shadows curl against your skin, cold and steady. "She already has. Hosting this event on his behalf, exposing him to scrutiny. She's more desperate than she lets on." He tilts his head toward you, his voice softer now. "We just need to give her the final push."

You swallow hard, nodding. "And if she doesn't break?"

Azriel's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Then we'll find another way. We always do."

Before you can reply, a servant approaches with a silver tray bearing two glasses of dark red wine. Azriel accepts both, handing one to you with an easy smile that belies the sharpness of his focus.

"Drink," he murmurs. "And dance with me. They're watching."

"Again?" You ask, your heart stuttering, but you take the glass, letting him guide you back toward the dance floor.

"This is a ball, love." The music swells as he pulls you into his arms, his movements are fluid and natural as though you've danced together a hundred times. "You didn't think I'd be satiated with one dance, did you?"

The bond thrums again, golden and electric, and you can't ignore it any longer. "You knew, Az," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the violins.

Azriel's gaze flicks to yours, soft but unyielding. "Not here," he murmurs.

"But—"

"Later," he insists, his tone leaving no room for argument. His hand tightens slightly on your waist, grounding you. "Focus."

This is why he didn't want you coming, you realize. You force yourself to breathe, to move with him, to match the rhythm of the music. Around you, the crowd swirls, their laughter and chatter a muted backdrop. Kaieel and Valenia are watching from the edge of the room, their expressions unreadable.

"Valenia's looking for an ally," Azriel murmurs as he twirls you gracefully. "She doesn't trust him to win against Rhys. We offer her a way out, and she'll talk."

"How do we approach her without raising suspicion?"

Azriel's lips curve into a faint smirk. "Snead your way into her inner circle. Let her think it was her idea. I'll shadow you, gather what I can from Kaieel's other guests."

"And if something goes wrong?"

His hand slides up to your shoulder, his thumb brushing against your collarbone—a fleeting, deliberate touch. "It won't."

The music slows, and he pulls you closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And even if it did, I'd slaughter everyone in this room to get you out."

You shiver, both from fear and something you didn't have time to familiarize yourself with.

The song ends, and Azriel steps back, his mask of calm once again firmly in place. He presses a light kiss to your hand, his lips brushing your knuckles as his golden eyes lock onto yours.

"I'll be watching," he murmurs. Then he's gone, slipping into the crowd as if he were never there.

You take a steadying breath, turning your gaze toward Valenia. She's speaking with a pair of aristocrats now, her laughter light and airy, but her eyes remain calculating. You approach slowly, your steps measured and deliberate.

"Lady Valenia," you say with a soft smile as you reach her side. "I must thank you again for this incredible event."

She turns to you, her lips curling into a practiced smile. "Ah, Mrs. Lawmore. Enjoying yourself, I hope?"

"Very much," you reply smoothly. "Though I must admit, I'd hoped for a chance to speak with you more privately. Your reputation precedes you."

Her brows lift slightly, intrigue flickering in her eyes. "Does it now? And what exactly have you heard?"

You lean in slightly, lowering your voice just enough to draw her closer. "That you're the true power behind Kaieel's successes. A woman of vision and cunning."

She laughs softly, but there's a sharpness to it. "And what would you want with a woman like that, my dear?"

You smile, your gaze steady. "To learn from you, of course. I imagine there's much you could teach me."

Her eyes narrow slightly, studying you. Then, with a sly smile, she links her arm with yours. "Come, let's talk. Away from prying eyes."

As she leads you toward a quieter corner of the ballroom, you catch a glimpse of Azriel in the crowd. He's watching, his expression unreadable but his presence a constant reassurance.

The game has begun.

———

The ball had stretched into the long hours of the night. Most guests had already taken their leave, yet a few lingered—drunkards, their fingers greedily grasping for what remained of the free wine. You had spent the evening carefully cultivating a list of names, all while trying not to let the thought of your mate—a word that still felt foreign in your mind—distract you.

Valenia, meanwhile, had rattled on endlessly, weaving a tapestry of grand schemes to dismantle Kaieel's empire and seize it for herself. Such a fool. The way she outlined every step was invaluable, her unwitting admissions offering a clear view of both her vulnerabilities and Kaieel's. For someone who fancied herself clever, she didn't understand the dangers of oversharing. Perhaps conspiring alone for so long had driven her to some invisible line of insanity, one she'd now crossed with aplomb.

She was smarter than Kaieel, no doubt, but she wasn't as sharp as she thought herself to be. The rich rarely were. They plotted in circles, their plans frayed with assumptions that gold could patch any hole. A society built on corruption and greed was a society destined to crumble.

A knock on the door shattered the air between you, halting Valenia mid-sentence. Both of you froze as the door creaked open, revealing familiar black hair and molten golden eyes.

"Lysan," you said smoothly, forcing an easy smile.

Valenia hiccuped, swaying slightly as she glanced between you. The liquor had loosened her tongue and dulled her senses—a poor, unsuspecting thing. You'd kept her glass full all night, though yours had remained barely touched.

"You two are lucky," she murmured, her words slurred but still carrying a bite of jealousy.

Azriel tilted his head, stepping closer with his hand outstretched. You met him halfway, your fingers intertwining as if it were second nature.

"So in love," Valenia sighed wistfully. She swirled the deep red liquid in her glass. "Kaieel never looked at me the way he looks at you."

Azriel didn't miss a beat. "I am lucky, aren't I?" His voice was low as he leaned in, pressing a kiss just beneath your ear. The touch sent a tremor down your spine, though you leaned into him all the same, your composure unwavering.

"You two lovebirds get out of here," Valenia hummed, waving you off with a glass in hand. "I'll see you soon, Mrs. Lawmore."

You smiled at the title she so easily handed over, bowing your head alongside Azriel as you both slipped out of the room. Moments later, you left the ballroom entirely, leaving behind the clinking of glasses and murmurs of deceit.

———

Once you winnowed into The Cabin, the air was thick with unresolved tension, a thread drawn too tight and ready to snap. You released Azriel's arm but remained close, your breath steady, your gaze piercing.

He shifted, glancing at you with that careful, measured expression of his, but you saw through it. His wings flared slightly before tucking back, as if the space were already too confined for what lay between you.

"We need to debrief with Rhys—" he began, but the words barely escaped before you cut him off, your voice sharp.

"No." You held up a hand, stepping back. "We're not ignoring this."

Azriel sighed heavily, dragging a hand through his dark hair. He reached up, removing the mask with a deliberate slowness that felt like deflection. "Can I at least get comfortable first?"

"Seriously?" you snapped, your arms crossing over your chest.

But he ignored your tone, unbuttoning his shirt with maddening ease. The fabric slipped from his shoulders, revealing smooth, tan skin and the faint lines of tattoos curling down his forearms. Then came his wings—massive, stretching wide as the glamour faded, their dark beauty filling the room like a storm rolling in.

You swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to look away as he folded them neatly behind him.

“Go on," he said, leaning back against the couch, his tattooed arms crossing over his chest, the sight terribly distracting. "I'm listening."

You glared at him, your voice tight. "You knew," you state.

He nodded slightly, but he said nothing, his golden eyes fixed on you with unnerving calm.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you demanded, your voice cracking despite your best efforts. "The bond—it's not something you just don't mention. Did you think I couldn't handle it?"

He exhaled slowly, his gaze steady. "It wasn't like that."

"Then what was it?" you shot back, your frustration spilling over. "You knew this whole time. Azriel, do you have any idea what it feels like to find out this way? To realize you've been keeping something this—this huge from me?"

His jaw tightened, but his expression softened just enough to betray a flicker of vulnerability. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to force it on you."

You barked out a bitter laugh. "Force it on me? What does that even mean? Did you think I'd reject it?"

Azriel stiffened, his wings flexing behind him as if to shield himself. "It's not that simple."

"Then make it simple," you snapped. "Because right now, it feels like you didn't tell me because you were planning to reject the bond. That you didn't want me—"

His voice cut through yours, low and rough like gravel. "Don't."

The single word silenced you, but only for a moment.

"Then tell me the truth, Azriel," you demanded, your tone breaking under the weight of the words. "Tell me why you didn't say anything. Was it because you didn't want me, or because you thought I didn't want you?"

That hit its mark. His jaw clenched, and he looked away, his wings shifting behind him as though he could fly away from the conversation. But he didn't. Instead, he took a step closer, the heat of his body suffocating.

"Love, please," he said, his voice tight with something raw and unspoken. "Do you know what it's like to see your mate and think, this is it—this is everything I've ever wanted—and to know they don't feel the same? To be terrified that if you tell them, they'll look at you like you're nothing?"

Your breath caught, the weight of his words crashing into you.

"Az."

"I didn't tell you," he continued, his voice quieter now, "because I didn't want to lose you before I even had you. I thought if I told you, it would scare you off. You'd think it was some obligation instead of a choice. And I couldn't risk that. I couldn't risk, us."

You blinked, the truth settling over you like a heavy blanket. He hadn't been withholding it because he didn't want you—he'd been scared. Scared of rejection. Scared of you walking away.

"Do you have any idea how hard it's been?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly. "To see you every day, to stand beside you, and know I couldn't tell you? That I had to act like you were just someone I trained?"

Your heart twisted at the vulnerability in his words, but the anger lingered, sharp and cutting.

"You still should've told me," you said, your voice soft but firm. "You should've given me the choice. You didn't get to decide that for me."

"I know." He looked at you then, and the regret in his eyes made your chest ache. "I know I should've told you. And I'll regret that for the rest of my life. But don't think, not even for a second, that I didn't want you."

Silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words. He took a step closer, his golden eyes searching yours.

"You can hate me for not telling you," he said, his voice low and rough. "You can hate me for being a coward. But don't ever think I didn't want this. Don't think I didn't want you. Please."

You stood there, his words reverberating in your chest, threatening to undo the last thread of your composure. His golden eyes never left yours, the air between you charged with too much to name. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your breathing even as emotions warred within you.

Finally, you broke the silence. "You should've told me," you said softly, the edge in your voice dulling. "Because for all your talk of not forcing it, you didn't even consider that I might have wanted it too."

His eyes widened slightly, and you took a half-step closer, the tension between you pulling tight.

"I've felt, something," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper now. "For a while. I just figured it was a stupid crush, that I was imagining the lingering glances and the all too long touches." You inhaled deeply, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "But now I know."

His breath hitched, and for the first time, Azriel looked truly shaken. Vulnerable. Like he didn't know what to do with your words.

So you took the choice away and kissed him.

It was tentative at first, your lips brushing his with a softness that belied the storm building inside you. He froze for a heartbeat, and you thought maybe you'd miscalculated—but then his hands were on your waist, pulling you closer.

When you pulled back, your lips tingling, you raised a brow at the stunned expression on his face. "Kiss me like that again and I might just have to accept the bond," you teased, your tone light but laced with meaning.

"Oh, I'll do more than that." He replied with an easy smirk on his face and before you could muster a flustered reply he connected your lips again, harder this time, more desperate. His hands slid up your back, his wings stretching slightly as though the emotions were too much for him to contain. You gasped into him, his shadows curling around your legs as his lips claimed you fully, unapologetically.

The kiss stretched, time losing meaning as you melted into him. His tongue brushed against yours, his grip on you firm yet reverent, as if he couldn't decide whether to pull you closer or keep himself in check.

He kisses you like it's the only thing keeping him tethered to the world like you're the air he needs to breathe. His lips press against yours with fervent urgency, soft yet commanding, leaving no space for hesitation.

The warmth of his mouth sends a shiver racing down your spine, your senses overwhelmed by the feel of him—silken and deliberate, coaxing, drawing you in until everything else fades. His hands tighten at your waist, his fingers digging into your dress that rivaled the intensity of his kiss.

The world tilts, time seems to stall, and all you can feel is him—the taste of him, the way his body leans into yours as though he can't bear to be apart. Every brush of his lips, every slight tilt of his head, feels like an unspoken confession as if through this kiss alone, he's telling you everything he can't put into words.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless. His lips were slightly swollen, his golden eyes darkened with something almost primal.

"What does this mean?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion.

You tilted your head, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "It means," you said, brushing a finger against his chest, "you're going to sit right there." You push him slightly, and he falls back onto the couch as if you struck him with an unrecoverable blow.

He blinked, clearly thrown off by the abrupt shift in your tone. "What?"

"Sit right there," you repeated, gesturing toward the couch. Then, turning on your heel, you made your way toward the kitchen without a backward glance.

He stared after you, confused as to where you were going during a moment like this.

The sound of pans clinking and spices mingling in the air brought him back to reality, though he still couldn't fully grasp what was happening. He'd faced centuries of war, unflinching in the face of death, yet now he sat there—utterly flustered.

An agonizing twenty minutes later, you returned with a tray, setting it down on the small table in front of him. The aroma was rich and comforting, a simple yet meaningful meal that made his chest tighten.

You placed the tray in front of him, your expression softer now, though the playful glint in your eye hadn't dimmed. "Eat, Azriel," you said, settling beside him. "You've earned it after all these years."

He stared at the plate for a moment, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. Then he looked at you, his voice unsteady. "This... this is real, isn't it?"

You smiled, leaning down, pressing a kiss onto the corner of his lips just because you couch. "What do you think?"

Azriel didn't answer, but the faintest smile tugged at his lips as he picked up the fork. You watched as he took the first bite, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.

The bond hummed between you, a quiet, unspoken promise. And as Azriel sat there, eating the food you'd prepared with shadows still swirling around your feet, you realized that this—this quiet moment—was the most eventful part of the night.

And for once, Azriel looked at ease. Flustered, yes. But undeniably yours. And soon, the frenzy would set in, and he'd show you exactly how much of him was yours, body and soul, mates.

Continued drabble here!

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[readwritealldayallnight]

Learning

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

wc: 1k words

warnings/tags: fluff

“Said it would’ve made too much of a mess. Waste o’ his money.” Simon says, slopping another spoonful of pumpkin guts into the large bowl in the middle of the kitchen table. Your usual table cloth has been switched out with an array of this weeks newspaper, the black and white print covered in the sticky remnants of your idea of fun on a Friday before Halloween.

“Not even one?” You attempt to pose the question casually, hoping to disguise the sadness in your tone, concealing the way your heart breaks at the thought of a young Simon Riley having never carved a pumpkin, his father not even allowing him to partake in that simple tradition so many others enjoy.

“S’alright, lovie.” He says, seeing right through you and recognizing the hurt you hold for him, an indication of your longing to only see love and joy in his life. If only you knew that’s everything you give him. “Did watch a mate o’ mine shoot his pellet gun at some pumpkins one year, if that makes you feel any better.”

You roll your eyes at his attempt to make you laugh, digging your spoon a little harder into the sides of your own gourd as if it were the one to have wronged you.

“Well then I’m glad I ignored you and got them anyways.” You declare, giving each pumpkin a loving little pat on its side. Simon had told you outside the grocery store, seeing your eyes land on the bright orange displays outside the shop, that they weren’t necessary.

But the both of you knew he would never deny you anything you wanted, and so he ended up carrying the two large pumpkins under each bicep and to the car himself, not letting you lift a finger.

“How’s the inside of yours looking?” You ask him, coming around to his side of the table, affectionately running a hand through the strands of hair at the base of his skull, glancing into the pumpkin he tilts in your direction for you to see. You can feel a shiver go through him at your touch, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

You’re glad he’s home with you, where he can relax, allow his biggest stresses to be his girlfriend ogling his arms as he carved open the tops of pumpkins and gutted them with efficiency.

“You’d have to tell me, love, but I think that’s as empty as it’s gettin’.” He emphasizes by tapping his spoon on the side of the sphere, listening to the dull, hollow echo it gives.

“Looks perfect. Nice work, Simon.” You tell him, planting a quick kiss to his cheek before hopping back over to your seat, leaving him looking a few shades redder than before. “Know what you’re gonna carve?”

“It’s- it’s just a face, innit?” At your question, Simon finds himself pausing. He might have had a different childhood than most, but he wasn’t daft, he knew what a jack o lantern was supposed to look like. Carved eyes, a wicked grin or large frown, sometimes even a nose in between them both.

He didn’t consider himself to be a crafty person, but he’d been a butcher for crying out loud, he could carve some shapes into a pumpkin until it resembled a face, no problem. So why are you asking him about what he’s going to carve.

“Well yeah, that’s the go to, for sure. A classic.” You reassure him, noticing the slight tension returning to his shoulders. “You can carve a face, my love. Some people just do different, they get creative with it.” Shrugging, you grab the marker you’d set aside, beginning to map out the lines for where you plan on carving your own design. You’re distracted, eyes darting between your sketching and your phone where you’ve got the inspiration photo pulled up for reference.

You don’t notice Simon’s eyes squinting ever so slightly at you before darting to the pumpkin in front of him. ‘Get creative with it’? Is that what you’re doing? Is that what you’re expecting him to do? Hoping he’ll do? He glances over at you again and notices you’ve got a bloody reference photo and everything??

He finds his cheeks beginning to burn for a different reason now, feeling stupid over not realizing you could carve more than the standard jack o lantern faces as a tradition. Obviously, you can carve anything you want into a fuckin’ pumpkin, he just didn’t know, he hasn’t done this before, and now he’s gone from feeling almost confident to worried he’s about to make a fool out of himself over something as childish as this.

“Simon.” You say, always more in tune with him than he realizes. “It’s okay, carve anything you want. I’m excited to see what you make.” You smile warmly at him across the table, a small socked foot going to nudge his ankle as well. “Believe it or not, this is supposed to be fun.”

He scoffs at your joke but doesn’t fight the smile that etches onto his face in return. He accepts your distraction when you ask if you should put on some music in the background, walking towards the record player. As he flips through the stack of vinyls, he thinks about just that, what he could possibly carve into that bloody orange sphere sat on his kitchen table, that would be fun.

Searching through any memories he considers as being ‘fun’, he finds a common factor: you. And there’s one more reoccurring element sewn into the fabric of those treasured memories as well: your laughter.

With that in mind, it’s actually quite easy for Simon to decide on what he’ll do finally. And almost an hour later, after you’ve put your blood, sweat and tears into your own pumpkin carving and deciding that the results ended up being just meh, Simon has decided that he’s undeniably the winner of the evening when he spins his creation around and has you nearly crying with laughter, insisting between wheezed breaths that he’s going to make you pee your pants, only leading to Simon’s own laughter bellowing out.

Not too bad for his first time learning.

~~~~~~~~~~

(The kind of pumpkin I’ve decided Ghost would carve 😂)

[anxiousbabybird]

Love and Deepspace men x fem!reader slightly unhinged and NSFW HCs, PART 2!

Once again, minors do not interact! I made you guys a part 2 of my current thoughts. No plot or card spoilers in my comments or reblogs, please and thank you 💙

Part 1

Rafayel

Have you met this man? He wants to know where you’re at and who you’re with at all times. So jealous. It’s probably in your best interest to forget other men exist once you’re dating him

Convinced you to suck his dick while he’s painting to see if it helps convey emotion into his painting—he accidentally pushed the paintbrush through the canvas when he came

Loves when you ride him—it’s so cute watching you bounce on him and use his body for your own pleasure. This also allows him to sit back a little and enjoy every sound you make, every facial expression, every feeling. Of course he does eventually get bored and flips you onto your back for his turn

Before you’re dating, he persuades you into being a nude model for him. He takes his time caressing your skin and telling you he has to “feel” the art, lets his hands wander and linger as he moves your body little by little until you’re in the exact position he wanted. Spends hours staring at your naked body, pretending to draw it (he finished his sketch hours ago but he doesn’t want you getting dressed yet)

Kinks/fetishes: biting, marking, breeding, spit, primal, spanking, mirror sex, praise, wax, shibari, choking, exhibitionism

Loves a pussy job—just sliding his cock between your folds and tapping at your clit like he’s knocking on a door until he cums all over you. Loves this for two reasons: 1) you look exquisite with your clit swollen and body spattered in cum, and 2) the banter between the two of you during a pussy job is top tier. It’s not quite degradation, but you’re both going back and forth in the most teasing way, riling each other up.

Has the biggest praise kink. He thinks he might actually die if you don’t tell him how amazing he is at least 12 times a day

Part of the pretty dick club. It’s actually perfect—thick but not too thick, long but not too long, nice veins wrapping around and well groomed at the base. Some would say it’s perfect.

Xavier

Sometimes when he’s flustered by you, his body emits a soft glow because of his evol. You notice it for the first time when you surprise him with a kiss to his cheek. He glows a little brighter the first time he kisses your lips too.

He’s fallen asleep during sex before. Usually after several rounds, he’s cum twice already, and you’re laying on your sides on the bed and he’s lazily thrusting into you from behind and all of a sudden he stops. Sheathed inside you and an arm around your waist. When you look over your shoulder, he’s sounds asleep and already softly snoring. You have no choice but to do the same, falling asleep in his arms and keeping his cock nice and warm all night

His favorite position is missionary where your legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s slowly, deeply thrusting into you. He likes seeing every expression on your face, really feeling you sucking him in, hearing every breathy moan you try to hide from him. And he likes that he can kiss you whenever he wants

Likes to read at night, even though he falls asleep doing it. When you start staying nights at his place, he convinces you to read out loud to him and you do that every night until he falls asleep with his head on your chest.

Kinks/fetishes: hair pulling (he likes when you give a little tug), overstimulation, marking, cum play, face sitting, cockwarming

Loves fresh flowers and brings you new ones every week. He thinks they’re pretty and hopes you appreciate them the way he does. Sometimes he buys them or sometimes he picks them from some lush patch in the forest. Always takes some for himself so he knows when they start dying and he needs to get you new ones.

Loves to lay his head in your lap so you can play with his hair

The kind of guy who will keep his hand holding yours no matter what because he wants to make sure you’re staying beside him. Sometimes takes one of your hands and puts it in the pocket of his sweatshirt with his just so it stays warm.

Zayne

He was very opposed to fucking in the hospital at first but then on a day he was super stressed, you stopped by and sucked him off under his desk while he reviewed charts and he was able to successfully perform a surgery other doctors thought was inoperable—he was more lenient on sex in the hospital after that

Kinks/fetishes: size kink, spanking, brat taming, choking, degradative praise, impact (spanking/flogging/paddle), breeding, edging/denial, thigh riding, dirty talk

Has absolutely bent you over his knee to spank you when you’re being a brat and talking back to him all the time with no regard for your own well being. All he wants is to take care of you because you never take care of yourself. And he would take the best care of you.

Cunt smacks. No further explanation needed.

Favorite sex position is prone bone. He likes hitting it from the back because sometimes the prolonged eye contact that can come with facing each other makes him uncomfortable. But doggy style isn’t what he wants because he wants to feel your body against his, holds you as close as possible. This position works best because every inch of him is atop you and he can feel your body there beneath him, he gets to tuck his head into your neck to bite or kiss or moan into, he’s close to your ear and can whisper filthy things or tell you how close he is or how good you feel around him, and most of all, this position has him so fucking deep inside you that he swore nothing in this life felt better the first time he entered you in this way

Allergic to saying nice things to you 98% of the time.

He runs cold because of his evol and sometimes when he cums, it feels like ice inside of you. Made you scream in surprise the first time but leads to some fun temperature play where he uses his tongue to warm you up after. He’s also often cold and loves to curl up against you and tell you that you’re his heater.

#ThickDickClub

@luffysprincess @seraphofthesimps @adaurielle

[oh-no-its-bird]

Sakumo being a super popular borderline sex symbol in his era will never stop being my favorite hc, I need to see more of it

All the people his age and younger had a crush on him. It was just a Thing(tm) where 9 times out of 10, a Konoha shinobi's first crush was probably Sakumo. Even other villages young shinobi hung up his bingo book picture above their bunk and dreamed of both killing him, being killed by him (in a hot way), having a battlefield fling with him, and more. There was blackmarket fanfiction. He was incredibly popular among civilians all over fire country. Some popular romance novels had love interests very blatantly based off him.

Even before they were on a team together, Obito and Rin both had a silly kid crush on Kakashi's dad (Obito more than Rin) and he was aware of it. This did not help make him like them any more. (By the time hearing smthn positive ab his dad would have made Kakashi softer, they'd both gotten better at hiding the crush, so to Kakashi it looked like they'd gotten over Sakumo.) Even Minato had a bit of a thing for him, not really but like— strong, popular, feard and very friendly ninja who is now paying him some attention (bc hes his kids teacher) he's not immune. Kushina understands, she is also not immune. (Kakashi is going to throw a fucking fit)

Even after his failed mission, when his reputation crashes and burns within the village, he still can't completely shake his admirers— they possibly just get more disrespectful ab the attraction when it mixes with the hate. (Which tbh could make for an interesting discussion all on its own)

Kakashi is haunted by his father's insane popularity for decades after his death. He does his very best to ignore the lingering evidence of people being insane ab his father.

One day he realizes one of his favorite romance novels has a romance interest based off Sakumo and has a break down ab it and can never read the series again.

When raiding an old abandoned enemy camp w Team Ro, he finds an old, autographed photo of his dad covered in lipstick marks in the communal bathroom. He chooses to ignore it but it's quickly spotted by his teammates, who do not know who Sakumk is, and v quickly begin to remark on the poster, who this mysterious Konoha nin is, and ahaha damn he is kinda good looking, huh? (Kakashi wants to DIE)

Shisui ends up taking the poster back to Konoha with them and hangs it up in the ANBU communal quarters where it is VERY quickly recognized. And also some of the people in that room recognize it so quick bc they also used to own a similar poster. (Kakashi wants to DIE someone PLEASE kill him now)

Its only when he's given team 7 that he finally thinks he's escaped the legacy of his father as Konoha's Most Sexiest Shinobi. Only for Naruto, when being trained by Jiriyah, to find his drafts for Icha Icha very clearly inspired by his dad. Which he can never publish for multiple reasons (lingering respect for Sakumo. Also for Kakashi, who is his biggest fan and would probably never look at him again.)

Naruto somehow accidentally brings this up with Kakashi who like. Has war flashbacks and immediatley stands up and walks away as Jiryah scrambles to try to explain himself and Tsunade looks on in scorn (she will approach him later to carefully ask for the drafts while trying to seem like she's not really asking for them bc she's too proud to admit it)

Naruto and Sakura discover Kakashi-sensei's dad was a sex symbol. I don't even know how they'd react but like. Oh my god. Oh my god you guys.

Funniest option would be they accidentally revive his popularity a little bit by being so loud ab it they like, remind people ab him. + introduce another generation to the idea of him

Kakashi is crouched on the floor with his face in his hands. When will he be freed from this hell.

Sasuke does not escape tho, he goes to sound and finds a picture of Sensei's dad in Orochimaru's office (???????)

This is such a shitty sketch but the vision:

Itachi, who learned who Sakumo was from that poster thing, goes on to find a photo of him in ""Madara's"" belongings and gets super weirded out but ultimately doesn't. Super care. But also. Like. What. What.

After Itachi finds the photo, which Obito genuinley forgot he fucking had and keeps in part just bc its like one of the only belongings that remained from his Konoha days, he shoves it somewhere in Kamui to forget about.

But then in the Obito vs Kakashi Kamui fight, it fucking flutters down in the middle of the fight and Obito fucking dies of humiliation as Kakashi realizes he will truly Never Escape and that this reality is his own personal hell

Uhh endgame Kakashi becomes Hokage and accidentally retreads his father's path in becoming the new Konoha Sexy Man. Which simultaneously crushes him (he will never escape) and fills him with delight (he will now be able to impart the pain of having your father figure be lusted after by all ur friends and acquaintances onto his students)