#The situation doesn’t even have to be stressful; it just has to be new

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Me: “herfgh sleeby time to c o n k out early.” [starts falling asleep]

Brain: [slides in from nowhere] “Could I perhaps interest you in a comprehensive list of the ways in which you failed to meet others’ expectations today, and throughout the weeks prior?”

Me: 👁️👄👁️

[steviescrystals]

ignore this post i’m just whining again

[cherryredstars]

Not sure if I’m doing this right since I’m new to tumbler :D but hi love ur writing followed you in an instant!

I was wondering if you could write something for a very low self esteem, inexperienced reader who goes to uni so is like 21 or something and is Miguel’s neighbor. They live in this building and their other neighbor is a rude lady who complains at the slightest Noise basically. she doesn’t dare bother Miguel but is always bothering the reader since reader can’t tell her to f off. Reader is just such sweet chubby lil cinnamon roll :(

Idk if I should have been less descriptive or more TvT; ?

Anyway hope you’re doing great :D don’t forget to hydrate ♥️

1K Prompts

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Age Gap, Sexual Touching (With Clothes on), Slight Fluff

Summary: He helps you, you help him.

A/N: This is perfect, don’t worry, love!!!

Word Count: 2.4K (Not Edited)

This is most definitely going to leave you a crying wreck in your bathroom later.

Your nerves were already on high alert with finally becoming independent and moving out of the college dorms, that pesky exam and assignment you procrastinated on working on, and your job has been firing and hiring people left and right. The last thing you needed was your cranky old neighbor, (it is crazy to think that you once thought she was going to be a kind old woman who would give you cookies when she was lonely), to come banging on your door with a  list of complaints and reasons why she could get you evicted. You do not know what to do, never being in this type of situation before. Honestly, you do not even know about half the things this woman is accusing you of. 

You can only stand there, hand tightly holding the door open as you try not to cry from stress. In your head, you are counting in an effort to make sure your breaths are coming out evenly. The last thing you want is to have a panic attack and have your neighbor add the threat of a mental hospital to the list. You nod along weakly to what she says, letting out whispered apologies that only seem to make her angrier. 

“You useless teenagers and your need to ruin good things, don’t think I forgot when you tr-”

“Is there a problem here?”

His voice is deep and smooth, causing the both of you to jolt. You visibly relax when you turn your head to find Miguel standing outside his apartment door. He has just gotten back from work and running errands, his lab coat draped over his arm as he holds paper bags in his arms. His hair is slightly tousled from the autumn breeze, and a few strands of his black hair are scattered with grey. His sweater hugs his arms and torso in a way that is mouthwatering, and you quickly look away when his eyes meet yours.

Miguel is the only neighbor you really know. He had helped you the first time you moved in, hearing the way you struggled to bring some things up to your apartment. He offered to help, carrying in boxes faster than you could into your apartment. When you had gotten furniture, he was happy to come over and assemble it for you. He is so kind to you, offering to help with a leaking pipe or to answer any of your questions about how to do something. You might have grown a slight crush on your neighbor, something that slightly freaked you out when you realized because of the obvious age gap the two of you have. You have not even finished college yet and he is in his mid-thirties working in a big corporate lab. 

Miguel clears his throat and you look back at him. He stares at you expectantly, totally ignoring the stuttering woman who tries to answer his question. He is only ever interested in what you have to say. You flush under his intent gaze, quickly shaking your head. You do not want to cause more problems, and you definitely do not want to have your cranky neighbor form a bigger vendetta against you. 

Miguel’s eyebrow raises, definitely catching the anxious expression on your face. He hums dismissively after a minute, eyes lazily trailing back to the older woman. His nose scrunches up slightly at the sight of her and he looks away again as the woman stops trying to defend herself. Miguel shrugs, the paper bags rustling with their contents. He turns to face you, once again ignoring the older woman. 

“Then you wouldn’t mind helping me put away my groceries, right? Can’t get my keys with my hands full,” Miguel speaks in a lazy drawl. 

You are quick to nod your head in agreement, stepping out of your doorway and closing the door. The woman steps back, a displeased look on her face as she watches you walk over to Miguel. Miguel keeps his eyes trained on you, watching everything you do. You are shy when you smile up at him. With your back turned towards the old woman, you mouth a ‘thank you’ to him. His eyes instantly snap to your lips, intently studying your exaggerated words. His eyes seem to darken for a second before he blinks and it is gone. His eyes trail back up to your eyes and he tilts his head slightly down. 

“Keys are in my pants pocket.”

You quickly nod, whispering out an ‘okay’. Your face burns as you have to get closer to him to not knock into his arms. The angle is slightly awkward, your hands slip into his pants pocket and your face burns from having your hand so close to his…thing. As you try to find his keys, Miguel looks down at you with a heated look. He watches silently for a few minutes before looking back up and over your shoulder to the older woman. His face is masked in indifference, maintaining eye contact with her until she fidgets and turns away without saying a word. 

At the same time she walks into her own apartment, you make a sound of victory as you finally retrieve his keys. You dangle them in his face with a proud smile, and he gives you an amused smirk. He steps away from his apartment door, giving you room to step in front of him and unlock his door. As you insert the key, you feel Miguel press up against your back. His warmth seeps into your spine and you are quick to bite your tongue so you do not let out a squeal.  

His breath tickles your neck and ear, warm and slightly minty. “What did I tell you about standing up for yourself, hmm cariño?”

The question rumbles with his voice and you have to hold your breath in order to not make an embarrassing sound. You turn to look at him over your shoulder and instantly regret it. He has not moved his face yet, and you are a breath away from him. If you leaned forward the slightest bit, your noses would be touching. You gulp nervously, and Miguel’s eyes trail down to your lips once again. He lets out a deep hum as you lick them nervously. 

“I- she’s not that mean to me.” You whisper out in the older woman’s defense. You cannot help the way your lashes flutter as you try to meet his eyes. 

Miguel scoffs at your defense, finally backing away from you. He shifts his hold on the bags, freeing his hand to turn the doorknob. Your hand is still there, and your breath hitches when his large hand encompasses yours. His hand moves both yours and the doorknob, making a combined effort to open the door. You are still watching him from over your shoulder, mouth slightly opened in awe. Miguel looks down at you, something playful in his eyes as he tilts his head to the side. 

“You’re blocking the doorway, cariño. The ice cream I got you is going to melt.”

Your blush returns from the pet name and you stutter out an apology as you rush inside his apartment. It’s warm, and you’re hit with the smell of him. You find the light switch and turn on the lights, flooding the whole place with a warm glow. Miguel follows you into the kitchen, placing the paper bags on the dining room table. He rummages through them, glaring at you when you try to grab one to start helping. His hands connect with something cold, and he pulls out a personal pint of ice cream. He hands it over to you and you turn it around to see the label. Your eyes instantly light up when you read the brand and flavor. Last week you had ranted to Miguel about how the grocery store did not have your favorite ice cream in stock as he was fixing a problem with your internet. The whole time he just hummed along, you did not actually think he was listening. 

He smiles softly at you as you beam up at him. He turns back to the groceries, sighing when he sees your hand reaching for the bags again. He turns to you with a bored expression. He gently removes your hands from the bag, telling you to go eat your ice cream before it melts. You grumble playfully under your breath, complaining about how you were supposed to be helping. He chuckles as he follows after you, getting a spoon out for you. 

“I thought the whole point was that I was supposed to help you put the groceries away, not eat them.” 

Your complaining is cut off by a yelp when Miguel grabs your waist. He lifts you up, putting you on top of the counter. Your eyes are wide as you look at him and his head nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You squirm slightly from his proximity. 

“You can help me by sitting prettily and keeping me company. Tell me about your day.” 

He pulls away then, returning to the dining room table and carrying a bag to the counter next to you. Your eyes are still bashful as you watch him, quietly opening your ice cream and beginning to eat it. Miguel starts to pull contents from the bag and looks over at you expectantly. Hesitantly, you begin to go through your day, easing into it the more you talk. You speak between bites of ice cream, half paying attention to Miguel as he walks around the kitchen to place things in their proper places. Occasionally, he looks over at you as you speak, his eyes trained on the way you place the spoon in your mouth and lick at the delicious treat. 

You are almost done when he puts the last thing away. He walks over to you as you continue talking absentmindedly, just finished slipping the spoon out of your mouth again. You stop talking when Miguel’s eyes drop to your mouth, his thumb coming up the swipe at your lower lip. When he pulls it away, a bit of melted ice cream is stuck to his skin. His eyes meet yours again when he brings it to his mouth, licking it away. He hums in appreciation for the taste. 

Your mouth drops open with a gasp as you watch, eyes trained on the pink muscle. You watch as his lips form a sly smile, and you blush as you look back into his eyes. But his eyes are still trained on your parted mouth, eyes dilated and hungry. He leans forward slightly, hand returning to rub at your bottom lip before he replaces it with his lips. He is not kissing you exactly, only sucking on your lip until it is swollen and red. He gives it a small nip before he pulls away, his hands falling to rub your thighs. It causes a small whimper to escape your mouth and Miguel basks in the noise. 

His hand seeps closer and closer to the area between your thighs, grabbing the carton of ice cream and moving it to the side. His hands hastily return to the area between your thighs, fingers brushing against your center. Your breath hitches and you look down to where his hands are. Your attention is snapped away when his gravelly voice meets your ears. 

“Continue with the story, querida. You don’t sound like you finished.”

You stutter over your words, the topic of conversation blanking from your mind. Miguel chuckles knowingly, his fingers continuing to brush up and down until they land on your clothed bud. He presses into it hard enough so you can feel it through the fabric of your pants and panties, gently reminding you where you left off. You nod nervously, hands snapping up to meet his shoulders as you feel wetness rushing into your panties. You stutter and choke on your words, eyes shutting as you rotate your hips sloppily into his hand. The movement is jerky, and you feel slightly embarrassed at how painfully obvious it is that no one has ever touched you like this before. But Miguel seems to like it, likes the idea that you’re untouched and he is the only person who has seen you like this. 

It gets even better when you make those soft noises, cutting yourself off and having to be reminded about what you were saying. Miguel continues his hand movements, pressing into you and rubbing and stroking. Your wetness has seeped through your panties, dampening the material of your leggings. If you were not lost in how good it feels, you would have been grossed out and uncomfortable. A weak call of his name escapes you and Miguel looks up from your cunt to look at your face. He hums in acknowledgement, watching as you try to pull his face closer to yours in a kiss. 

He swiftly avoids it, and you would have curled into yourself at the blunt rejection if you did not become distracted by his mouth suck and licking along your neck and jaw. Your mouth falls open with a moan, head leaning back to give him more room. He groans against your skin, fingers pressing tight circles to your clit. With a few hard circles, your back arches and your hold on him tightens. Gasping moans leave you and you feel the band in you snap, releasing more wetness into your panties as you finish. Miguel pulls his head away from your neck, keeping his fingers to your bud as you ride out the orgasm. Once you slump back down, he pulls his hands away. As you catch your breath, Miguel cleans up the mess on the counter. He reaches over, closing your melted ice cream and putting the spoon in the sink. 

You are still in a daze when he pushes the warm container in your hands, his own hands gentle as he lifts you off the counter. Your eyes are glossy in after-lust as he gently guides you out of his apartment and into yours. His warm hand leaves the small of your back, massaging your sides before he whispers a thank you into your ear for your help. You are only pulled completely out of your daze when you hear your door lock and close as Miguel leaves. You turn to look at the door, cheeks blazing as you clutch tightly onto your ice cream.

You are totally getting a noise complaint for that old woman tomorrow.

Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5

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[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 2 - Adjustments

Summary: You're struggling a bit in your adjustment to your new life, and you're finding some of them are easier to get along with than others. Luckily you're not in it alone.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

Author's Note: I'm so just overwhelmed with the attention this fic has gotten, but not in a bad way I promise! I'm just surprised is all. Thank you everyone that has read and reblogged and commented. I love all of you and so, since I have no self control, here is Chapter 2. Lots more world building and dialogue in this part, but I promise good stuff is coming.

Also I promise Soap will get his time soon. He's just the hardest for me to write, and you'll see why in this chapter.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“She was lying.” 

Price doesn’t bother looking up as a dark figure leans against the wall next to him. He stares out at the empty space between the barracks and the mess hall, not much traffic between the buildings during this time of day. 

“About how she got to the institute.” 

“Or at least not telling the whole truth.” Price says, turning to look at Simon. “Something tells me she’d talk if we asked.” 

“She’s soft.” Simon says, letting his gaze drift off into the distance. 

“She’s a civilian.” Price counters. “The CIA did a little training, but she’ll need some work. We can’t leave her completely defenseless...” 

Simon turns to face him again. “There’s something else.” 

Price pushes himself off the wall, heading back inside. Simon follows, the two of them making their way down the hall to his office. “There’s hundreds of American military bases across the world, thousands of regiments they could have chosen from, and yet, they sent her to us.” 

Simon closes the door behind him as Price sinks into his desk chair. “You think it was deliberate?” 

Price pulls open one of the drawers, pulling out the file Kate had given him. “Laswell said the CIA has had eyes on her for years.” He slides it across his desk to Simon. “There’s a lot of why's in this situation, and a lot of how’s. Like, if what she’s saying is true, how did a Staff Sergeant get his daughter into FIOT practically overnight?” 

Simon glances up at him over the top of the file. “You think there’s something else going on with this Initiative.” 

Price nods. “I do. I think there’s more than one experiment being run, and we’re the guinea pigs.” 

You stare at your reflection in the mirror as you run a comb through your damp hair. You look tired, the dark circles that have plagued your face for the last few weeks looking even darker now. It’s been a long day, so long it’s hard to believe it’s only been a matter of hours since you boarded the helicopter in London. 

Your new pack had made themselves scarce after dinner, leaving you to your own devices. You had been left alone after lunch too, and you had spent that time laying in bed, resting after the overwhelming scenting. 

You’d played back the last few hours in your mind. Leaving London in the helicopter, meeting your new Pack Alpha, Laswell leaving, meeting your new pack, the scenting. You had plenty to think about, to stress over, and you had been surprised when the knock came at your door for dinner. You were equally surprised to see Gaz and Soap waiting for you. 

You’d been sandwiched between them again as you walked to the mess. It was busier for dinner, and the eyes weren’t quite so quick to look away with the alphas missing. You know they have to be curious, with an omega on base following around two members of a SpecOps team, smelling like them. You know what they were probably thinking of you, what they were thinking your presence means. 

You’ve begun to understand Price’s rules a bit more. 

Price and Ghost had joined you as Soap said they would, coming in late from whatever they had been busy doing. You had been seated next to Soap, Ghost taking his other side while Price sat next to Gaz. It hadn’t gone unnoticed to you how close Soap and Ghost sat, and you remembered the look in Ghost’s eyes when Soap had approached to scent you. How his defensive stare had turned icy, threatening even, when he’d gotten close to you as if you were capable of hurting Soap. It had been a silent warning. If you tried anything, you’d have him to contend with. 

Ghost is territorial, more so than most alphas. You had seen it just a bit in Price, but only because you had been watching for it. Ghost was silent in his claim, but his gaze spoke of his territorialism. As you sat at the table with them, you slowly felt the stares lessen, the curious alphas and betas around you slowly turning away from your table until you were left in peace. You knew it was all thanks to a well-pointed glare from the second alpha at the table. 

They’d escorted you back to the barracks before disappearing again, leaving you alone. You’d opted for a shower to try and clear your head, exhaustion weighing heavy in your limbs but your mind was racing too much to really get any rest. You haven’t been told what their normal schedules entail or even what they look like, but you expect an early morning tomorrow. Since Price had said at least one of them needed to escort you around base, that likely meant you were going to be constrained to their schedules. 

You know even when they’re not away, their days are probably full of training and briefings, much like yours had been for three months. They’re probably up early, earlier than you’d like to be, and then they go non-stop all day. 

You wonder if they ever get a break. 

Maybe this is a break for them. 

You sit on the edge of the bed after you finish your routine, eyeing the pillows and blankets stacked at the end. They’re military issue, not as soft or as plush as you might have preferred. This is your new normal, though. Comfort isn’t exactly going to be a high priority. 

Tears prick your eyes as you run your hand over the comforter. You know it’s the exhaustion, the stress of the day beginning to weigh on you. You’re worn out, and that’s causing a slip in the tight reins you keep on your mood. Omegas and alphas were both prone to being moody, and those who were unrestrained could lose control quickly. Alphas were quick to anger, while omegas could get depressed very easily. Exhaustion drives both to being grumpy, though alphas will descend into irritability and anger, while omegas will get whiny and weepy. 

You hate it, how easily you can be driven to cry. How easily you can lose control. It makes you feel weak and helpless, but that’s partially by design. It was supposed to be your pack’s job to fix that, to give you that support and take care of you. 

Except you don’t know your pack. 

What would they do if you approached them like this, all teary and needy? Would instinct take over and snap them into their roles? Or would they give you an awkward pat on the back and leave you to take care of yourself? Gaz would help you, you think. He had slipped into that role so easily during the scenting. Your fingers twitch on the bedspread, your mind telling you to seek him out, track him down, even if it’s only to catch a whiff of his scent again.  

Your phone screen lights up where it’s sitting on the nightstand, drawing your attention from the door. Kate had given you the phone just this morning before you left the hotel. It had her number on it, as well as your pack’s. You’d half expected to find messages already from them when you’d turned it on, but there had been none. They had kept that boundary of meeting in person first. 

You pick up the phone, checking the message. It’s from Price. 

Breakfast is at 0700. I’ll take you to see the Omega Specialist after. 

Seven o’clock. It’s not terribly early. You’d eaten around the same time at the institute. You’ll get to meet the Omega Specialist as well tomorrow. You’ve met plenty of them in your time as an omega, but something about the idea of having someone there who knows, who understands is comforting to you. 

You send a reply in acknowledgement for tomorrow’s plan before setting an alarm for tomorrow morning. There’s an uneasy feeling under your skin, a tickling in the back of your mind that you can’t seem to relax. Your eyes are drawn to the desk where the shirts still sit, and before you know it you’re moving to the desk, letting your fingers trail over each one. 

You grab Price’s shirt, taking it back to your bed. You curl up with your back facing the door, holding the shirt against your chest, letting the scent of tobacco smoke and whiskey fill your nose. Silent tears slide down your cheeks, your face pressing into the pillow to muffle your sobs. 

As you try to muffle your tears, you miss the sound of boots pausing in front of your door, the person on the other side standing there for a moment before continuing down the hall. 

You let out a groan as your alarm pulls you from sleep. You had drifted in and out for a few hours before finally managing to get a couple precious hours of sleep. You’d woken when the others got up. You knew they were trying to be quiet but you had heard them shuffling around, talking quietly amongst each other. You’re normally a fairly deep sleeper, but in a new place you always struggle. 

A new place surrounded by almost complete strangers. 

You turn off your alarm, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. They’re burning a bit, the exhaustion still weighing heavy on your shoulders. You pad to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face to try and make yourself at least look more alive than you feel. The last thing you need is them getting worried about you. That’s attention you’re not sure you want right now. 

You blink sleepily at your closet, trying to decide what to wear. Were you allowed to wear anything? You didn’t have much besides the basics, since the only thing you had been allowed to wear at the institute was its uniform and the clothes they provided. Then when you were with the CIA, they had provided clothes for you to wear as well. The things you have now had been bought by Kate before you left D.C. 

Everyone on base wore similar variants of the same uniform. You’re not military, though, so you don’t think those rules apply to you. No one had said anything about your state of dress yesterday. You opt for comfort, knowing you’d likely find out soon if you were going to be forced to dress differently too. 

You’re tying your shoes when the knock sounds on your door. You had heard the others moving around, footsteps in the hallway, opening and closing doors, quiet voices talking and Soap laughing at something. You know it’s one of them, yet the nervous tickle at the back of your head is back. 

Soap is leaning casually against your doorframe when you open the door. His face lights up in a smile as he sees you. “Morning, bonny. Sleep alright?” 

“Yeah.” You shrug. “Tossed and turned for a while.” 

“We didne keep ye up did we?” He asks, his smile faltering just a bit. 

You shake your head. “No, I never sleep well the first few nights in a new place.” 

“Well, our beds are always open if ye need something more comfortable.” He winks at you playfully. 

Your face warms at his words, the double meaning not lost on you. You were right, Soap was going to be the one to push your boundaries the most. 

Gaz elbows him in the ribs as he passes. “She’s been here a day, mate, don’t go scaring her off now.” He leans on the other side of your doorframe, giving you a smile. “Morning.” 

“Morning.” You say, your face still warm from Soap’s teasing. 

“You hungry?” Gaz asks. 

You nod. You do feel hungry this morning, likely a side effect from your emotional night last night. You step out of your room, the two betas stepping back to give you space as you close the door behind you. Ghost is leaning against the wall next to his door, his eyes watching with the typical cautious disinterest that seemed to be his default setting. 

Gaz and Soap sandwich you between them again, close enough their arms brush yours as you walk. It was almost as if they could sense your inner turmoil, the neediness still tugging at the back of your mind. If Ghost hadn’t been trailing the three of you, you might have been tempted to give in and grip their sleeves, or slip your hands into theirs. How would Ghost respond to such a bold move? The mental image of your body flying through the air as he punted you into next week almost makes you laugh. 

Price is already seated at a table frowning at his phone over a cup of coffee. Gaz and Soap load up your tray for you, something you’re getting used to rather quickly. It was expected from the alphas, or at least Price, to coddle you a bit, but it seemed the betas were more than happy to get in on it as well. 

The thought makes something flutter in your chest. 

You’re seated between Gaz and Price again once you reach the table, Price greeting you with a tired smile. “Morning. Sleep alright?” 

“Not really.” You say honestly. “New place and all. I’ll settle in eventually.” 

“Maybe the Omega Specialist can give you some ideas to help.” He glances at his watch before looking at you as you spoon a heaping spoonful of porridge into your mouth. “Take your time. We have until 8.” 

You listen to the conversation at the table as you eat, Gaz and Soap talking about a football game that’s on tonight. You feel eyes on you, your skin prickling a bit. You glance up, half expecting Ghost to be glowering at you again, but his gaze is focused on his eggs. You cast a quick glance around the mess, turning slightly to look behind you. 

Three tables over, you find the gaze of some soldier focused on you. You haven’t paid much attention to anyone else on the base, but then again you haven’t had much time or reason to yet. You can’t read the expression on his face as he stares at you, but you feel a shiver run down your spine as your eyes meet his. 

He stares at you for a few seconds before his gaze moves slightly past you, quickly dropping back to his plate. You turn around, finding Ghost staring just past your head. His eyes are narrowed, his scent coming off stronger than it had been. You can practically see his hackles raised, the warning clear in the air. You feel the urge to curl in on yourself, the threatening aura radiating from him makes you want to cower. 

It doesn't go unnoticed by those at the table either. 

“Easy, Ghost.” Price says calmly, Gaz turning to follow his line of sight. 

“Bloody wanker.” Ghost grumbles before rising from the table. 

You turn back around, but the soldier that had been staring at you is gone. 

You nervously pick at your sweatshirt sleeves as you sit in the plastic chair next to Price. You’re still on edge a bit from what happened at breakfast. It wasn’t so much being stared at that bothered you. After now three meals in the mess, you’ve almost come to expect it. It’s Ghost’s reaction that has your mind still reeling. 

“I’ve always hated the medical center.” Price says with a sigh as he leans his head back against the wall. “It smells too sterile. Makes my nose burn. Reminds me of too many close calls.” 

His words jar you a bit. You hadn’t even thought about that aspect of his job. He’s used to getting shot at, to getting into fights, running head first into danger that would send most running the other way. You wonder how many times he’s been the one with the close call, and how many others he’s had to watch have their own. 

You wonder how many times he’s had to make that trip to tell someone’s family. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts as the door across from you opens. Price pushes himself to his feet, and you follow as a kind looking woman steps out. You breathe a quiet sigh of relief. You don’t have anything against male Omega Specialists, but you were already surrounded by men. Sure you have Kate, but she’s half a world away. 

She’s tall, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Despite being a doctor she’s dressed casually, no white coat or gloves to be seen. Her eyes are light green and crease in the corners when she smiles. 

“Hello, I’m Dr. Keller.” She introduces herself, shaking Price’s hand. 

American. You think, silently breathing another sigh of relief. Kate really had pulled some strings with this one. 

“Captain John Price.” He says. 

You introduce yourself when she turns to you, shaking your hand. Her voice is soft and gentle, the scent of beta coming off her in waves. 

“Come on in,” She says, leading you into the office. “Sit anywhere you like. Make yourselves comfortable.” 

Her office isn’t what you expected either. Instead of the harsh fluorescents, the lighting is softer, warmer. There’s paintings and posters all over the walls, along with several plants. There’s a desk covered in books and paperwork in one corner and a bookshelf with several books packed into it in the other. There’s a couch on one wall, and a couple plush looking chairs on the other. 

You move to one of the chairs, sinking down onto it. It envelops you in softness, and you feel as if you might sink into it and never be able to get out. After a day of hard plastic and stiff blankets, it nearly makes you weep. 

Price takes the chair next to you, Dr. Keller sitting on the couch across from you. The office smells good, a light, neutral scent in the air aside from the pure almondy scent of beta. 

“Alright,” She says, holding a tablet and a stack of files in her lap. “I always like to start by introducing myself and telling you a bit about me, then we’ll get into the important stuff.” 

She jumps into telling you about herself. Where she grew up: California. Where she studied: UC Berkeley. What institute she did her residency at: West Coast Training Academy. Where she worked last before Kate called her in: some poor inner city institute in LA. 

“Now, on to the more important stuff.” She says, turning on the tablet. “I got your medical records yesterday. You’re quite the healthy girl.” 

“Yes ma'am. I have good genes. That’s what my mom used to say.” You respond. 

Dr. Keller smiles. “Hardly even been sick. Your heats are all normal, too, correct?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” You say. “Except for a three month stretch two years ago.” 

“Yes, the heat sickness epidemic that hit America.” She says. 

You nod. “FIOT locked down completely and everyone was supposed to quarantine, but I heard a rumor that it was one of the beta food workers. She snuck out to see her alpha boyfriend and brought it in with her. We only think it was her because she disappeared not long after the first omega got sick.” 

Dr. Keller hums. “I know not everyone was so willing to take it seriously. You made a full recovery, though. No lasting side effects, I’m sure thanks to the state of the art medical facilities that FIOT keeps.” 

“Yes, ma’am. We were lucky it was just a mild case.” 

“That is lucky.” She flips through something on the tablet. “Your lab results all look phenomenal. I like to do checkups monthly, just to ensure everything is working as it should. I know the CIA gave you quite the cocktail of vaccines while you were with them.” She turns her gaze to Price. “Captain Price, I’ve sent in a request for your team’s vaccination records as well. I’m sure you’ve had everything under the sun, but I’d like to ensure there’s no risk of any accidental exposures.” 

“I don’t see a problem with that.” Price says. “If RAMC gives you any trouble, just let me know. I’ll get them for you myself.” 

“Thank you, Captain.” She says. “One last bit in this part and then we can move on. I see FIOT issued an implant before you left, as is standard practice.” 

You nod. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Good. You’ve had more than enough time for it to take effect so we won’t have to worry about any accidental slip ups during your next heat.” 

Your cheeks warm at her words a bit. You’ve been trying to avoid thinking about that inevitable side of things. 

“And your next heat is roughly six weeks away.” She says, looking at the calendar. “Don't be surprised if it comes a little earlier now that you’re being exposed to alphas again.” 

Your stomach twists nervously at that thought. It was common for heats to be triggered early after exposure to alphas, especially after such a prolonged period without exposure to them. It wasn’t likely to start tomorrow, but you knew it could jump a week or two due to the natural pheromones alphas put off, and the instinctual call for the alpha/omega bond. 

“You’re planning for the claiming to take place during the heat?” Dr. Keller asks. 

“Yes, that’s the plan.” Price says. 

“That is the most natural time for it.” Dr. Keller says. “Of course, it is always up to omega preference in the end.” 

You don’t miss the way her eyes dart to you for a second. 

“Now that that’s over with,” She says, putting the tablet to the side. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to do this next part with just the two of us.” 

A beat of silence passes before you realize she’s asking you. Her eyes are on you, and so are Price’s. She’s asking you. She’s asking you what you want. 

“I-I guess...yeah.” You stutter over your words, not quite sure how to answer. Is there a wrong answer? Would Price be upset if you said yes? Would Dr. Keller be upset if you said no? Your eyes turn to Price, trying to gauge his reaction. 

“It’s up to you.” He says softly. “We’re here for you.” 

You sit up a little straighter at his words, nodding your head. “Y-Yes. That’s okay.” 

Price pushes himself to stand up. “I’ll be right outside.” 

The air inside the room seems to lighten as he leaves, Dr. Keller reclining back on the couch as the door clicks shut. She pulls out a stack of papers and a pen before she looks at you. Your palms are sweating, and you’re starting to think you’d like the chair to swallow you whole. 

“This next part can feel a bit personal, but I just want you to know that everything you say in here is as confidential as you’d like it to be. Captain Price is right. I am an Omega Specialist, I’m here for you. I’m not just a doctor, I’m here to help you in all aspects of being an omega. I know FIOT teaches a lot, mainly obedience and compliance. I want to make it clear that you can be honest with me.” She holds up the stack of papers. “No one is going to see these papers but me, alright?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” You nod. 

“You don’t have to be so formal with me.” She smiles. “You can call me Dr. Keller, or Doc. You could even call me an evil bitch if you want, it won’t phase me any.” 

You can’t help the small smile that forms on your face. 

“I’ve got some questions I’d like to ask you. They’re a sort of tracker to measure how well you’re settling in and bonding with your new pack. I’d like to meet once a week until your next heat just to see how well you’re settling in. After that we can meet as often as you’d like. Sound good?” 

You nod in approval. It sounds like a lot, but you also know you’re going to have a lot of downtime, even with your pack on base. 

“Alright, let’s get started. How are you settling in? I know it’s barely been a day, but I want to know how you feel here.” 

Your heart begins to pound in your chest. How do you feel here? How do you feel after being pulled from the institute and taken to a training facility where you found out you’d be moving halfway across the world to be a military pack’s omega. 

This wasn’t what you had expected when you reached the age where you became an available omega. Most omegas at FIOT came from rich, powerful, important families and your purpose there was to be groomed into the perfect omega to return right back to that world. 

You thought you would be chosen quickly. You had expected it. With your scores and your high ratings and your status, you were what most alphas dreamed of. Yet, the years had passed and though there was some interest, nothing had ever come of it. You weren’t alone in it. There were others like you, those who excelled at being an omega, but then seemed to stall in the selection once they came of age. 

Of course, now that you look back on it, you can’t help but think it might have been done on purpose. The Omega Initiative was new, you had been told during your first briefing explaining why you were taken to a remote building somewhere outside of D.C. and greeted not by your new pack, but swathes of CIA agents. Military packs were nothing new, but they wanted to utilize the naturally formed packs and make them stronger and more stable by adding in omegas. 

Only highly skilled omegas were considered for the program, but of course you had no say in whether you were going to partake or not. They chose the omegas and they decided where you would end up. 

It wasn’t that dissimilar from being chosen from an Institute. At FIOT there was a screening process packs had to go through to be determined eligible to have access to omega files. Then the pack would have to send a neutral emissary, usually a beta, to meet the omegas in person and choose on behalf of the alpha. Most institutes don’t have that strenuous of a process, and some don’t have a process at all. In some, alphas themselves could walk in and choose an omega without even so much as a background check. 

Omegas never got a say. As soon as you were handed over to an institute, the ability to choose was taken from you. Whoever your caretakers were as a pup signed over their rights to you and the institute became your legal guardian. They dictated your life up until you joined a new pack. 

You had hoped it would be someone rich. If nothing else, you’d get to live a cushy life and you’d never have to worry about anything. When they told you what was really going to happen to you, you had almost cried. You did cry, late at night curled up in your bunk after hours of training and briefings. 

Kate picked you for this pack specifically because she knew them and she knew you could handle them and their world. 

Maybe if you had been worse at being an omega, things would have been better for you. 

Or maybe they would have been worse. 

“It’s...different.” You finally say, picking at your sleeves again. “But in a lot of ways, it’s similar to The Institute. It always takes me time to settle somewhere new.” 

“Me too.” Dr. Keller says, writing some things down. “And with the time change, it’s just so much harder. I feel like I should be in bed right now, but it’s 8 AM. Have you started nesting?” 

You shake your head. “No. I don’t even feel the urge to.” 

“That’s fine.” She says, writing something else down. “In truth, I’d be more concerned if you were.” 

Your eyebrows raise a bit. “Why?” 

“During an adjustment period for an omega, especially in a new pack, there can be something that happens called false instincts. The sudden urge to nest, a drive to bond with pack members too soon, false heats. It’s usually brought on by a sudden change in environment, like when omegas are taken from a place where they’ve spent sometimes years with no exposure to alphas and are suddenly thrown into a space with a lot of alphas. It’s more common in larger packs where you have alphas, betas, and other omegas.” 

“Could it happen in smaller packs?” You ask. 

“It’s possible, though rare. It can cause some serious issues down the line when those instincts are actually supposed to begin to show up, like adjustment sickness. I’d say if you’re starting to feel the urge to nest or bond before the first week is up, then come talk to me, alright?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” You nod. 

She smiles, turning the page. “How far have you gotten with the bonding process?” 

“Just the scenting yesterday.” You answer. 

“And how did that go?” 

You pick at the loose thread on your sweatshirt. “Fine. It was...overwhelming.” 

“They can be.” Dr. Keller says. “The new members of your pack, how are you getting along with them?” 

“Fine, I guess.” You shrug. “I like Soap and Gaz. Price, he’s...he’s nice, and Ghost...” You trail off, not sure how to answer. If she’d asked before breakfast you might have said he doesn't like you. He doesn’t want you to be part of his pack, but after what happened at breakfast...

You can’t be sure he did it for you. He could have thought that soldier was staring at Soap or Gaz or even Price. He could have thought the soldier was staring at him and was annoyed with it. He had scared off the stares at every meal you’d eaten together, but how often did they get stared at? You couldn’t know if that was a daily occurrence and he was just growing sick of it. 

He could be annoyed with you because you’re drawing in the stares. 

“I don’t know what to think about him yet.” You answer. 

She writes something else down, going through a few more questions with you. How is your appetite? How are you sleeping? Are you taking care of your needs? Do you have any concerns? 

Before you know it the hour has passed and you’re walking out the door into the fluorescent, sterile hallway of the medical center. 

“Remember, you have my number. If you need anything, I’m here for you.” Dr. Keller says as you part ways. 

You walk with Price out of the medical center, glad to be out in the fresh air. It’s not particularly warm, and the sun is hidden behind a layer of clouds, but it’s better than the medical center. 

“What do you think?” Price asks as you follow him back to the barracks. 

“I think it went well.” You say, mind still reeling from an eventful morning. You’re beginning to feel your restless night. 

“Do you like Dr. Keller?” He asks, probing a bit. 

You nod. “Yes, sir. She’s nice.” 

“Good.” He says, opening the door to the barracks for you. “I have to leave to oversee training for the next few hours.” He glances at his watch. “One of us will come get you for lunch.” 

You nod. Of course you’d find yourself alone again between meals. You’re beginning to notice a pattern. “Yes, sir.” 

His hand is warm as it settles on your shoulder, squeezing gently. You’re surprised by the touch, as small as it is. Were they too fighting the urge to get close to you, like you had this morning? 

You can still feel the warmth of his hand even after it’s disappeared and he’s gone. You head for the rec room, deciding to avoid the constricting feeling of being shut in your room for the time being. 

The TV is on when you enter, but the room is empty, playing some morning talk show. You move to the bookshelf against the wall, letting your eyes scan the titles. There's a surprising lack of military-based books shoved into the packed shelf. Of course there's a handful of old manuals and handbooks, nothing that you're particularly concerned about needing to read. You let out a sigh, standing on your toes to reach a Brandon Sanderson novel. 

You look around the room but the remote for the TV seems to be missing, and it’s too high on the wall for you to reach the power button, so you leave it on, curling up on one corner of the couch as you begin to read. 

You’re not sure how much time has passed when something moves in your peripheral. The sun has come out briefly, shining in through the windows. You look up from the book, suddenly feeling very small under Ghost’s gaze. His eyes are narrowed as he stares down at you, a thousand things flashing through your mind. Are you in his spot? Is this his book? Had he come to the rec room hoping to be alone and here you are infringing in his space? 

“Come on.” He says, his voice rougher than it had been this morning. “Lunch.” 

He’s already turned and heading out the door as you scramble up, leaving the book on the coffee table as you hurry to catch up to him. His steps are quick and wide, and you find yourself having to almost speedwalk to keep up with him. 

Your thoughts are jumbled as you follow him out of the barracks and off towards the mess. Why would they send him to get you? Was he the only one available? Yesterday they had time before lunch to return to the barracks, or had that only been because of you? Or were they perhaps hoping this might offer a chance for the two of you to bond a bit? 

Or were they entirely blind to Ghost’s disinterest in your existence? 

Perhaps they were used to it. After so long together, perhaps they just thought it was normal. If you were brave enough to bring it up, would you get a “oh that’s just how he is” in response? 

You can’t see the others as you enter the mess, Ghost leading you to the line. He stands behind you like a hulking shadow, his scent covered by the smell of gunpowder and sweat. You fill your own tray for the first time, grabbing things that look appetizing. You’ll have to get used to it eventually, even though the others insisted on doing it for the time being. When they’re not here, you’ll have to do it yourself. 

Ghost leads you to an empty table, and you opt to sit across from him. You begin to eat, taking big bites to avoid the need for conversation, not that you really thought Ghost would strike up a conversation with you. Your eyes flicker around the room nervously, glancing over the entrances time and time again, waiting for the others to arrive. 

“Stop twitching. They’re on their way.” 

The words cut straight through you and you snap your head around to face Ghost. He’s got his mask pulled up to his nose, your eyes immediately drawn to the exposed pale skin. There’s light stubble on his chin. You remember how that had felt on your own skin when he’d scented you. He’s blonde, you think, or at least has light hair judging by the color of the stubble. There’s a scar on his chin, almost hidden by the stubble. 

Your face warms as you realize you’ve been caught in your nervous fretting. Of course, you should have known he would take notice. There’s not a lot they don’t notice, you think. Though, when your survival depends on noticing even the smallest detail of anything or anyone...

You jump as a tray is set down next to yours, your eyes snapping up to see Gaz with a smile on his face. You turn back to look at Ghost, his mask pulled back down but you see a slight shake to his shoulders for a second.

Was he...laughing at you? 

Your attention is drawn from him as Gaz takes a seat next to you, sitting close enough his arm is almost brushing yours. Price and Soap taking their usual spots as well. You’re beginning to pick up on the patterns that existed around them, and their own patterns. Perhaps that will make it easier for you to fit yourself into their lives. You knew from the start they weren’t going to change to fit you into their lives. They couldn’t. You were going to have to find a way to fit into their lives. 

Gaz walks you back to the barracks after lunch, abnormally quiet as he watches you warily. He walks you to your door, leaning on the doorframe as you step inside. 

“You alright?” He asks, big brown eyes shining with worry as he looks you over. 

“Yeah.” You nod, shifting on your feet. “Just tired. I think I might take a nap.” 

He nods, and you’re sure he doesn't quite believe you, but he doesn’t press any. “Alright. Happy napping.” 

You close the door as he leaves, sinking down onto the edge of the bed with a sigh. It’s been a long day and it’s only lunch. Between the probing questions from Dr. Keller and the few minutes you had spent alone with Ghost you feel exhausted. It was good to know you weren’t entirely broken in your lack of nesting instincts, and perhaps your turmoil with belonging in this place wasn’t quite as abnormal as you thought. 

What to do about Ghost.

He’s said more words to you today than he did in the entirety of the previous day. In fact, you think today might be the first time he’s spoken to you at all. You know he doesn’t approve of you, and you’d go so far as to say he doesn’t like you. You can imagine he fought the hardest against you being added to the pack. They were fine without you. It didn’t take a genius to see that. 

You’re an outsider. A civilian. A risk. 

An unneeded disruption to their lives. 

You pull your phone out of your pocket, staring at the dark screen. You know Ghost might never accept you. He won’t want to claim you, he won’t mate you, but...perhaps you might just get him to tolerate you. 

You unlock your phone, sending a quick text to Kate. 

“Can you get a book for me?”

You regret your decision momentarily as you step into the rec room. Gaz and Soap are lounged on the couch, beer bottles open on the coffee table. The TV is playing ads, their attention on each other. You almost feel as if you’re infringing upon a private moment as they laugh, half tempted to race back to your room and hide until your hunger draws you out or someone breaks down the door to get to you. 

“Hey!” Gaz’s face lights up when he sees you, Soap turning to look at you.

“Hey, bonny!” His face lights up with a smile. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” You ask, shifting nervously on your feet. 

“Not at all.” Gaz says, patting the empty spot on the couch next to him. “You want a beer?” 

You shake your head. “No thank you. Never could get past the taste.” 

Soap throws his head back as he laughs, slapping Gaz’s shoulder. “I keep tellin’ ye!” 

“Yet you keep drinking it!” Gaz attempts to defend himself. 

“Cause it’s th’ only thing we got!” Soap argues, leaning around Gaz to stare at you. “So, ye a football fan, bonny?” 

“Well, I watched the World Cup a couple times as a kid.” You say. “My household was more of an American football and baseball household. Two of my older brothers played soccer, though they never were very serious about it. Mostly just did it to fulfill my dad’s physical activity extracurricular requirement.” 

“What did you do to fulfill that requirement?” Gaz asks as he takes a sip of his beer. 

“Softball. I was...not good at it.” You laugh. “I could catch and throw, but I don’t think I hit the ball a single time I was at bat.” 

Both of them chuckle, turning back to the TV as the ad ends. “Don’t worry, we’ll turn you into a proper football fan yet.” Gaz says. 

You watch the game with them, and it doesn’t take you long to realize they’re rooting for opposing teams. They explain things to you here and there in between yelling at the TV and each other. Despite how loud they are, you find yourself relaxing further and further, the tension from the last two days easing away, even as the two betas yell at each other over a soccer game. 

Gaz tenses for a second as he feels a sudden weight on his shoulder. He turns his head slightly, noticing you’ve fallen asleep, your head drooping onto his shoulder. His lips quirk up in a smile as he gently nudges Soap. 

“Wha?” Soap asks, turning to look at him. 

He jerks his head to the side, leaning back just slightly so Soap can see. A grin breaks out on the younger man’s face and he pulls out his phone. “Aww, look a’ that. Think we should wake ‘er and get ‘er tae bed?” 

“Nah.” Gaz says. “Let her sleep for now. She probably needs it.” 

You sleep soundly through overtime, Gaz not moving until the post game is over, letting you sleep as long as possible. He knows you have to be tired, after the last few days and the time difference. You looked tired today, with dark circles and droopy eyes. He hates to wake you, but he knows you can’t sleep on the couch. 

He nudges you gently, trying to rouse you. “Hey.” He nudges you again, your head finally lifting off his shoulder. 

You blink sleepily, rubbing at your eyes. You make a quiet sound in protest of being awake, eyes drooping closed again. 

“Come on, love.” He says, keeping you upright. “It’s time for bed.” 

You cover your yawn with your hand, blinking at him sleepily. “Bed?” You murmur sleepily, Gaz smiling softly at how adorable you are in this state. 

“Yeah, you’ll be more comfortable in bed.” He pushes himself to stand, hands on your arms to pull you up. 

You make another sound in protest, nearly falling against his chest when he gets you on your feet. He wraps an arm around you, letting you lean on him as he guides you back to bed, Soap cleaning up the mess they had made. 

You’re more awake once you get to your door, blinking up at him with bleary eyes. “‘S fun.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes. “Should do that more often.” 

“You’re always welcome to join us.” He says. “Get some rest. You’ve had a long week.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Night, love.” 

He waits until your door is closed before heading back down the hallway towards the rec room, a small smile on his face. 

NEXT ->

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[eriscary]

Reference sheet of Tear who finally made their appearance in Passing Ghost. I have been waiting to post them, wanting to have that sweet reveal in the comic before it. I am withholding some info due to spoilers or because I want it to be known after the comic is done, which shouldn't take long prolly. Here we go… __________________

Biography: Tear!Sans is a puppet body possessed by a Napstablook whose greatest wish was to become Sans and see the multiverse. He created his body from mix and matching puppets made by Error!Sans. This [REDACTED]

Appearance: Because Tear’s body is a puppet, his bones are plush and have visible stitches. He wears white gloves to hide stitches, but his forehead has the most obvious line of them. He also wears Napstablook shaped headphones and a white coat with a purple hood. Its backside has a pattern of two tear drops forming an upside-down heart. Underneath it is a beige scarf, white shirt and black shorts.

Personality: Tear used to naively believe that everyone is good hearted and tried to be polite even in situations he shouldn’t. His AU got a lot of Sans variant visitors that he observed curiously from afar. Through observation he learns of the multiverse and wishes to experience it. Even wishing to become Sans himself, so he would feel important, loved and blend in more with the multiverse travelers. Finally achieving a feat of possessing a puppet body with a resemblance to Sans, gave him some momentary confidence. [REDACTED] finally understood not everyone is sunshine and rainbows. This made him more nervous of new people than he already is. He spends much of his time training to behave like Sans, failing at making good puns and stressing over not being lazy enough for Sans standards. He works too hard to be one, believing it would give him everything he wanted and [REDACTED]. After all, Sans surely blends into crowds with ease. They saw it with their own eyes. Tear also goes as far as using a great deal of effort into shaping his tears to be gaster blasters and bones. It hinders his speed, although even with this he is as fast as an original Sans, but fails at matching him in damage. Most of the time he feels like he isn’t good enough, both as his old self and Sans. The new life makes him believe it’s his responsibility to do everything Sans took care of too. He blames himself for everything. [REDACTED][ACCESS DENIED]. As a ghost, he felt very touch starved.

Abilities: - Tears: When Tear!Sans cries, his tears hurt anyone on contact. He can manipulate his tears and cry on command. They also leak out naturally. - Shaping tears: Tear!Sans often controls his tears to take a certain shape like his top hat, but usually gaster blasters and bones in hopes of mimicking Sans. Such objects cannot be held by anyone else, as they would take damage. Tear!Sans cannot replicate blue attacks. - Phasing: Tear!Sans can will his body to phase through things, just like when he was a ghost. His body gets more transparent or straight up invisible. Unlike his ghost self, this time it requires magic. When too emotionally overwhelmed, he will unintentionally phase. It will stress him more if it's a comforting touch he was about to receive but couldn't. - [REDACTED]

In battle: Tear's strength is on par with Classic Sans. He doesn't hit as hard, yet keeps up by attacking faster. But because he loses speed by shaping his attacks, he is overall weaker. His boss fight is also shorter because of him spending a lot of magic uncontrollably, before and during the fight. Unlike a Classic Sans or [REDACTED], Tear doesn’t remember SAVEs and RESETs. - [REDACTED] - [REDACTED]

Relationships: - [REDACTED]

Trivia: -Tear’s name has a double meaning. ‘To shed a tear’ and ‘tear something apart’. Different characters will say their name differently, depending on the personal opinion of them. - He is very soft to hug. - He is very light and his steps leave no sound. - His favorite food are Blueberries, or as he calls them, Boo Berries. - He occasionally calls the Player by a pet name “treasure”. - [REDACTED] - He gets excited at seeing any Sans or Papyrus, no matter how they look. - Used pronouns are He/They. - When terrified, Tear can unintentionally water blast the person through his eye sockets. - [REDACTED] __________________ Considering most AU sanses are stronger than Classic, Tear is prolly one of the weakest out there lol. He tries

[hazelfoureyes]

The Safeword is RadioApple (part 2)

This part doesn’t have the Alastor x Lucifer scene I previewed! I pushed it to the next part since this was already a big chunk of text. I hope you still enjoy it! 🥺 I can do a male reader, I just need a little time as I’ll need to rewrite quite a bit

Locked doors

「Luci was pining to return to your bed, even if he couldn’t fully understand why Alastor exists in it. Luckily for you both, You got a night alone with the King of Hell and before Alastor can implode the whole situation, he had a change of heart perspective.」

[warnings/promises: Lucifer x FemReader, smut, No AlastorxReader this part, Luci eats you out, Luci has a nose, Alastor thinks about gardening but in a jerk kind of way, s e x, Husker is reminded of his chains, Charlie is naive, Facesitting, Luci’s horns, sweet little kisses, aftercare at the before part, creampie is like nyquil, Luci is an entire daddy kink]

Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱✨NEW✨ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins

minors DNI 🤌🏼

He didn’t want to be fully naked near Alastor, but the idea of bathing with you overpowered his hate. When he entered the bathroom, he found you reclining into Alastor, back to chest, as Alastor’s fingers massaged soap into your upper arms.

Your eyes, closed in comfort, popped open when you sensed his presence, “Luci!” Your legs folded, “Get in.”

Lucifer looked around the clawed foot porcelain tub. He didn’t want to admit he liked the style, obviously picked out by Alastor. With the same hesitancy as before, he stripped and lowered himself in the water opposite you and Alastor.

A wave of stress, again, watching you two intertwined in each other’s attention. But you pushed back against that feeling, hands slipping past his hooved feet until you found his calf. Lifting his leg up, Lucifer yelped as he slid down into the water. Your hands rubbed along the muscle of his leg, humming softly.

He watched you, Alastor disappearing from view entirely. “Thank you, Kitten.” Your smile widened. Eyes wandering down, he found your foot and pressed into the arches with strong fingers. You moaned, visibly relaxing into Alastor’s chest. “Feel good?”

You nodded, “Your hands only ever make me feel good, Luci.”

He nearly choked on his breath, cheeks brightening a scarlet red. How could you get so brutally fucked and still speak to sweetly? Was that really the same mouth?

A stupid grin spread across your face as you pressed into Alastor.

“Happy?” He asked, low and into your hair. 

“Happiest.”  Eyes closed, basking in the glory of your conquest. “What do you like to do after sex?”

It took Lucifer a second to realize you were talking to him, “Oh! Uhh,” a nervous scratch to his cheek, “Kiss? Cuddle. Normal things.” He hoped Alastor took the word normal as an insult but unfortunately he seemed to not be paying any attention. Without opening your eyes, you spread your arms and invited Lucifer to kiss.

He felt his knees graze Alastor’s legs as he shifted, leaning in to you he let his lips touch yours gently. Your arms came around his shoulders and pulled him in for more. He fell into your chest, pressing your body further into Alastor’s. You cooed into his mouth, opening to lick across his lips, finally looking at him. Staring into each other’s eyes, you hoped he could see it, hoped your absolute bliss was palpable to him. Sandwiched between your own personal rock and hard place, you struggled to keep a naughty giggle in your chest. What a lucky girl you were. 

Properly cleaned and doted on, you found yourself in Alastor’s large bed with the men. Alastor had no issues slipping under the blankets and into sleep, your body curled up against his. You were facing Lucifer, who looked exhausted. 

“Sorry for the shock.” You whispered, hand slipping from under the blanket to hold his own. Your mouth opened to say something else, but you stopped yourself. You felt like Lucifer needed space to process.

And he did, taking a moment to look over your face, large red and black deer ears peeking from the blankets behind you. 

“Why did he have to be here?” His fangs bared, “Why not just us?”

Your fingers twirled the wedding band on his left hand, “We have our own little set of rules for what is okay, and he’s always going to be there. That’s the only way this can work.”

Always? This? He wasn’t sure which to grab ahold of first. 

“I’ll never get you alone?” He thought he hid his sadness, but he was in fact pouting very noticeably. 

“Not unless Alastor says so.”

Neither noticed Alastor’s grin slipping through his fake sleep.

His pout deepened, “I hate him.”

“I know.” You laughed, because it was funny. There was really no reason for either of them to hate each other but it seemed neither of their egos could exist in the same room without causing the bad kind of friction. 

“But I -,” He laced his fingers with yours, stopping the reminder of his own vows and to some extent your own, “You. I don’t hate you.”

“Do you not-hate me enough?” said quieter than your other questions, as nervous for the answer as you were the first one of the night. 

“Enough?” Brow knit, Lucifer’s pout melted away. You squeezed his hand. Could he tolerate Alastor enough? Get enough of you for himself? His mind came to greed, to Mammon and his disgust for the sin incarnate. Lucifer had been greedy before, tried to take more than he was allowed, and it led to very terrible things. Some would argue the very worst of all things. 

His nod was barely perceivable. You wondered if you’d imagined it. Perhaps your heart was beating so fast, your eyes shook just enough to see what you wanted. 

Lucifer fell asleep, hand in yours. When he woke, he found himself turned around. At some point he must have rolled away from you, but before he could wake enough to correct the situation, he noticed your own sounds. 

“Allie~” You purred, a tone he had never heard you use before an– Allie?? He gagged.

He could feel the blankets shifting, bed dipping behind him. 

“You’re in odd form, beloved.” Alastor said it softly, not meant for anyone else to ever hear, “I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

A huff, a sigh, you made the smallest whimper, “Do you think Luci -?”

Alastor didn’t let you finish, “I don’t ever think about him, darling. So, no.”

Lucifer heard a smack of skin, you playfully hitting Alastor’s chest. “Be nice,” It was a warning, not a suggestion. “I didn’t want to wake him up yet…” The bed dipped again before he felt your hands slip under his arm and down his chest. He tensed, “Luci” you whispered a sing-song form of his name, “Wake up, please. I need your company before I start my day.”

He wanted to whip around but knew that’d be suspicious, he needed to play it cool. Be a man who was totally asleep this whole time. Lucifer closed his eyes, as if you could see his face at all, and forced out a yawn. “Hmm?” He hoped he sounded sleepy, as he was fully alert at this point. 

“Good morning, your majesty.” Your hand snaked down his stomach, “Can I have a moment of your time, sire? I’d like an audience with you.” 

He bit his bottom lip, loving the way you spoke about his position. “Sire” was now second to “Daddy” to his ears. His mind couldn’t play along, already overwhelmed. “I’m not busy at the moment…so…” 

Stupid. Terrible. 

Alastor agreed with the sentiment Lucifer didn’t vocalize. 

Your hand slipped immediately into his boxers, little blue shorts with bright yellow duckies. Taking long, gentle strokes you found him eager to wake up for you, too. 

Luci folded the pillow into his face, stifling a groan as he grew under your fingers. You let his foreskin slide up and down his shaft, rubbing along his head until he had grown too large to accommodate. Luckily for you and Luci, he was leaking like a faucet and providing you just the lubricant to keep your hand gliding over his length. 

He rolled over and began to kiss you, but you quickly pushed him onto his back, coming to straddle him. “May I?” You ground your hips down, wet lips sliding across his cock. Lucifer choked out a reply, something between “yes” and “please” fell from his mouth. You were already naked? Had he missed something?

His eyes flitted to Alastor, who was leaving the bed and going to his armoire. You brought his attention back to you, one hand on his stomach, the other lining him up. Still soft and sore from the night before, Luci much easier slipped into you as you sank down until he was fully sheathed. Taking a moment, you sat on his impossibly hard cock and tried to think of where to put your hands. You leaned back, finding the angle to press his length along your plush g-spot. Slowly, hands on his thighs behind you, you rose up and lowered yourself. 

Luci’s hands came to your hips, needing something to hold on to. Watching you bounce on his cock was making him sweat, not taking into account the feeling of your tight heat so early in the morning. His sweet angel, taking his cock so well. He fought the urge to push you down and let months of pent up affection pound you into the bed.

Soon enough, you were rising and just letting your full body weight drop onto his lap. When you tried to take a hand to touch yourself, Luci’s tail wound up your thigh. You were startled, slowing to see the spade tip pressing down and flicking across your needy clit.

“What the fuck, Luci?” a breathy rhetorical, hand going back to his thigh to regain the speed and force you lost. As you found yourself coming up to that edge, pleasure peaking, you began to moan out his name. Little “Luci”’s and Lucifer”’s chanted to the ceiling. 

Luci’s head pushed down into the pillow, mind unfurling. “Enough,” He whispered into the air, hips rutting up to meet your frenzied thrusts, his reply lost in the sounds of your bodies connecting. 

⫘⫘⫘

Lucifer tried to be normal around the hotel, but as hours turned to days he found it harder and harder to keep it together. While always aware of you, always looking for you, he was now noticing the dynamic between yourself and Alastor. The two of you were often in the same spaces, but rarely together. It baffled him. If you were his, he’d never take his hands off you. His fingers would always be in yours, hand on your back, arm linked in arm. How could Alastor exist around you in any other state than at your feet? 

He began to wonder what exactly you saw in the deer demon. Yes, his dick did work, much to Lucifer’s surprise. But surely that wasn’t it. Because Lucifer’s dick also worked. The math was not mathing.

His bed was suddenly too large. Silk sheets too cold. Room too quiet. Lucifer found himself pacing the halls at night, mind wandering to what you were doing. What you both may be doing. How he would, could, fit in.

Any time he could, he found a reason to touch you. Handing him a plate? Fingers gliding over yours. Entering the same room? Ah, his hand fit so perfectly on the small of your back as he let you go first. Look at this paper! Slide beside him, let his hand come to rest on your waist. Before, he avoided every chance to feel your skin under his own. Now, he was hungry for every little taste. He felt like lightning bit him with every connection to you. He wondered if you felt it, too. 

Alastor wasn’t blind. He saw Lucifer’s eyes watching you. How he followed you like a lost puppy. 

He nearly snapped his microphone in two one morning, seeing Lucifer’s hand around your waist. It was odd, the sex? No issue! Who cares? It’s just bodies. He knew you were satisfied with him regardless of if you ever fucked. You both were quite content to just lie in bed and read, kissing and cuddling under the blankets before bed. 

But something about this was getting under his skin. Maybe it was the public setting, almost an insult to him. Showing everyone how the King of Hell could have anything he wanted. Anyone.

Or maybe it was something messier. These weren’t lustful touches. His hands were always so gentle on you, tender. There was emotion behind the way Lucifer’s fingers grazed your body. He was fine with watching another soul lust after you. Your body was something he could share, just flesh. Your heart? His hair bristled. Would Lucifer undermine what he had?

Mint. His mother planted it once in the yard. Mint grows exceptionally well. Too well. If not properly contained, it will spread across the garden and become a weed and overtake the other plants.

He relished in uprooting the mint by the fistfuls. 

Seeing Lucifer laugh loudly, leaning into your ear to whisper something that made you giggle in return, Alastor thought about mint. Best when ripped from the ground and muddled with a ridged dowel. 

When you knocked on Lucifer’s studio door later that night, the place he had built specially for himself in the new and improved hotel, he frantically tried to clean up the space. You hadn’t been alone with him since that morning nearly a week prior now. 

Truth be told, you hadn’t actually planned on Lucifer agreeing to join Alastor and you in bed. You weren’t sure how to politely invite him back without sounding like you saw him as just a fuck buddy. When you voiced your concern to Alastor, he laughed. Then patted your head.

Not overly helpful.

“Hey there! Long time no see huh?” He laughed a little too hard.

“Luci, we saw each other at breakfast.” 

His hat seemed to wither on his head, “Right yeah haha that— time away from you feels so long! The heart —,” he stopped talking, “Inside?” Wide eyed, he gestured for you to enter. 

With a nod, you walked in. Just, so many ducks. An ungodly number of ducks. Too many, some could argue.

“What’s the latest creation?” You searched the room for anything obviously special.

Lucifer grabbed your hand as he walked past and pulled you to the desk. “Check this out.” He cupped his hands, holding up a duck with six wings and tiny horns. The wings flapped gently.

“Little Luci duck?” You tapped the beak. 

He hummed, “Do you like it? I thought maybe for your bath.” 

You genuinely didn’t know what to say. Your finger slid up the head and down the back. Bringing it to your lips, you kissed the tiny orange beak. “Now I can have you in my bath every night.” 

A smirk, squiggly and long spread across his face.  Shoulder to shoulder at his drawing table, he leaned over to kiss your cheek. Your finger tapped your lips, instructions for where to bring his lips next.

“Dad?”

Lucifer flipped around, knocking up against the desk and causing ducks to cascade down, “CHARLIE! Haha! HEY!” 

Charlie was standing in the open doorway, eyes bouncing from you to Lucifer and back. “Sorry, are you… busy?”

If you stayed very very still maybe she wouldn’t see you. 

No? Yes? Which— which was the least suspicious?

“No?” Lucifer offered.

“I wanted to talk to you about some hotel stuff. I can come back later?”

You folded, sliding away from Lucifer, “I was just going, actually.” You nodded at Charlie, hands behind your back holding your duck. 

Alastor lied on your bed while you wallowed, your upset amusing to him. Where you saw an issue, he saw an opportunity. His wide smile seemed to shine under the dim light of your room, “Charlie is too innocent to make such a leap, dear. She’d need much more than that to suspect anything.” 

“I just don’t wanna cause him trouble. His life has enough strife. I didn’t start this to make things harder on him.” You buried your face into the pillow. 

His hand petted softly at your hair, “Why did you start this?”

You and Alastor weren’t a very sexual couple, and though your libido was stronger opposed to Alastor’s distinct lack of one, that was never an issue. But part of why he even allowed Lucifer to join your bed was to help round out your pleasure. Not that Luci was just a dick to you, literally. Alastor knew how badly you wanted to dote on the monarch, and when we you discussed your desires he was happy to oblige. As long as you didn’t stray from his side, Alastor was fine with holding the reins of this extension, of sorts, to your own relationship. 

But he was, at his core, a mortal soul. He was not impervious to feelings of envy.

“Well, yes, more sex with powerful people is quite nice.” Alastor nodded in agreement, the openness something he was fine with. “But I just wanna see him smile more. He’s so-,”

“Insignificantly small?”

You glared from over the pillow, “Cute.”

His fingers traced down your cheek to your chin, lifting your face to receive a kiss, “Do I still have the controlling share of your heart?”

Rarely, nearly never, did Alastor admit worry. You immediately sat up, the simple question sending off alarms. “Of course! Say the word, I’ll lock the door. Our doors only open as wide as we decide. Together.” Alastor hummed, content with the answer. 

“That’s all I need to hear! I will be back by midnight, don’t lock anything before then.” With a kiss to your forehead, he excused himself down to the bar.

Sure enough, within an hour Lucifer pulled himself into a bar stool and asked Husk for a soda water with lime. He notoriously avoided alcohol.

From his chair, Alastor watched the king of hell frown into the glass. If he could, he would drink that pitiful look by the bottle.

Alastor appeared beside Lucifer, flashing two fingers to Husk. 

“You look like the dog who got kicked.” Alastor’s grin, toothy and sharp, smiled at Lucifer. A laugh track faintly played in the background of his static voice.

“Hey here’s an idea! Go fuck yourself.”

War requires sacrifice. To truly get what you want will always cost you. Alastor knew this well, having paid many prices along his life and death to ultimately come out ahead. 

“She’s quite sad, you know. Poor thing is in her bed now, cradling a small duck.” Alastor tipped his glass into his mouth. Lucifer didn’t reply, frown pushing into a pout.

“She’ll be asleep by 11, normally when she starts to doze off. Unless, of course, she’s otherwise preoccupied.” The whiskey burned, he only drank it neat. Unadulterated.

“Are you bragging? Why are you telling me this, you haunted broomstick?”

The glass cracked in his hand as he set it down, “Because, you empty headed lawn ornament, I’m giving you my blessing to visit her.” Alastor’s bones seemed to snap as his head turned to look at Lucifer with an eerie jerking.

Immediately he perked up, “Oh. Together?” Suspicious.

“I’ll be there later.” Alastor’s head cocked to the side, “You can go ahead.”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, “What’s the catch?”

“No catch! Why so suspicious?” Alastor’s eyes rolled, now with a smaller grin, “My darling just has such an appetite, whereas I don’t need quite as much, as often.” 

That made… sense. A lot of sense, actually. Lucifer let that bit of information blanket the past week of observations and everything lined up. 

“Oh!” Lucifer swivelled his chair, “Okay….does she..want me to see her?” He gripped his cane, a nervous reaction, “She hasn’t actually brought it up since.”

“How would I know? I was as shocked as you when she asked for you in the first place.” Husk watched Alastor’s smile twitch, hearing what sounded like pure annoyance in his voice as he said it. 

Lucifer opened his mouth to make a jab, but thought better of it and abandoned the drink and the bar to find you. 

Husk tried to sneak away, but felt the tug of his chains.

“What did you hear, Husker?” Husk’s fur stood on end as he slowly turned to face the fearsome radio demon. 

“Nothing, boss. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His hand had to set the bottle he carried down, shaking too much to be sure he wouldn’t drop it. 

“Good boy.” Alastor finished his whiskey, “I’d hate to have to find a new bartender. Another, please and thank you. I’ve got some time to kill.”

⫘⫘⫘

“Luci?” You looked around the hall, wondering if perhaps someone else had come with him, “What’s up?”

He opened his arms, “That piece of shit said I could see you. Alone.”

Your smile fell, “Why would he do that?” Lucifer laughed, shrugging it off. 

“Maybe he knows he is no match for our connection.” His brows rose up and down his face.

“That….definitely isn’t it, Luci.”

He looked wounded, “May I still come in? If you want me, that is. Want me TO! Want me, to enter. Inside the room. Your room. Bedroom. This-.,” You opened the door the rest of the way and moved aside. 

“What exactly did Alastor say?” You sat on the small bench at the foot of your bed.

 The worry was visible on your face.

“Something about different appetites. Aaand I could come up before he came to bed. Oh, and that you were sad.” Lucifer set his hat on the dresser, resting the cane to the side. 

Those were true things. 

Yes, you had been sad. Moping just before Alastor left, come to think of it….was this a little gift? Why wouldn’t Alastor tell you beforehand? You rarely did anything without discussing it first. 

“Did you not want to see me?” Luci misread your face. 

“Oh! No!” 

He winced.

“No, I mean– no, I did not …not want to see you.” Fuck, his nervous energy was spreading. How did you ever manage a private conversation with him before? “I am very happy you’re here. I felt so bad, about earlier. Did I cause you any trouble with Charlie?”

Luci plopped down beside you, “Don’t be silly! She thinks we’re run of the mill pals!” A laugh, “I think.”

Your eyes searched the room. Alone together, in a truly private place. But again, you wanted to show Lucifer more than just your lust for him. You wanted to see him smile, to feel appreciated and seen. That was harder to do when in a dick fog. 

“Are you okay with starting with a cuddle this time, Luci?” Standing, you lowered the lights with the dial on the wall. “We can move past it if you’re feeling it. Or just enjoy being in each other’s company.”

“I love cuddling! I’m a pro at cuddling! Haha, yes. Totally okay.” He paused, “Why are you laughing?”

You pulled back the covers, getting into bed, “You’re so cute, your majesty.” He felt that stupid grin creep across his face, “Come to bed.”

With a puff of red smoke, he was in his boxers and scrambling to you. You tried to stifle another laugh, what a silly person the Devil was. “You could have done that every time?” You asked. He just nodded, hands coming around your body and pulling you close to him. “You’re so warm.”  Your nose brushed against his.

“Fires of hell and all that.” He kissed the tip of your nose, before lightly pressing his lips to your own. Another peck, his hands roaming up your hips and then your arms, then coming to your cheek. He pulled you closer now, deepening his once chaste kisses. 

Was this cuddling? You thought you had wanted to dote on him. But now it seemed you were the one being showered in adoration. He sighed into your mouth, and your mind went blank. Yes this was cuddling. This was anything he said he wanted it to be. 

Lips soft, mouth warm, tongue forked. His head tilted, desperate to get himself deeper into your mouth. You tasted like heaven, something he was too scared to miss. Tongue rolling over yours, you moaned into the kiss. Luci’s hands slid from your face to your hip, hand gripping you as he groaned in response. Hips slowly rolling into nothing, he tried to calm down. He finally had you all to himself, and his body reacted with an eagerness he had forgotten. Your own hands pushed gently against his chest, not to make distance, but to feel his body pressing up against your own skin. 

His lips parted yours, he went to speak but instead returned to kissing you. Leaving your lips and travelling down your neck, he found the will to talk, “Tonight, let me take the lead?” You nodded, wondering what his lead would look like. 

Alastor was always chasing something in you, feeding off more than your body. The few times he would want to go beyond just caressing, he would wring pleasure from you like a deserted man to an empty canteen. His body quaking with every drop he could manage. 

And Lucifer? Your already wet cunt clenched around nothing but possibilities. You nodded, watching a fire light behind his eyes you hadn’t seen in the bedroom before.

“I’m going to spoil you rotten.” His face was bright, both hands pulling your hips onto him as he rolled onto his back. “You don’t need these.” Clawed hands tugging at your panties beneath your open robe. 

Oh. That was quick.

As you leaned back to remove them, Lucifer’s mind was on timing. He could eat you out for hours if afforded it, but he knew Alastor would be coming in eventually. Lucifer had no intentions of sharing you tonight. 

When you sat down, his hands hooked under your thighs and pulled you up. And up. 

“Luci?”

“Let me show you how I ruined eden.” He opened his mouth, long tongue snaking out in a truely debauched display.  Your body was just near his chin now, and you were too stunned to move. His hands slapped your ass playfully, “Please take a seat, kitten. Your throne awaits.”

Would you suffocate him? Did he need breathe? Were you heavy? Shou-

“Pet.” His hands drummed on your thighs, “Just grab the headboard.”

Mortified. You placed your knees on either side of his head and gripped the headboard. You barely had a chance to lower yourself before he pulled you onto his mouth.

Hot breath. Luci had been dreaming of this for weeks, long before your initial invite. His tongue lapped up the slick from hole to clit, humming into your skin. Your thighs clenched and you had to focus to open them again. You apologized, but Luci just winked and made a show of taking two fingers and setting them on your thigh where he held you. 

You’d never done anything where you were the one on watch for the tap tap. It felt…. Good. Deep breath, relax into the system you made for each other.

His tongue dipped into your heat, you hadn’t considered the positive attributes of its length until now. Your hips rocked slowly, the feeling of his soft and determined tongue along you walls making your mind reel. How could something be so gentle but so ravaging? Had anyone’s tongue ever been so deep in you?

Resting your forehead on the headboard you watched Luci’s eyes close, his smile felt from thigh to thigh. Nowhere was Lucifer more in his element than mouth under a wet cunt. As your breath quickened so did your hips, grinding down more and more as you felt the pleasure spiking with every touch. 

Luci’s tongue left your now dripping hole to latch onto your clit. Sharp teeth pricked your skin as he began to suck, expert tongue intermittently lapping at your little bud of nerves. 

Your knuckles were turning white as you considered snapping the headboard in half in an attempt to chase the euphoria. It felt so good, but as the time was going forward you could tell it wasn’t enough to get you over that hurdle. 

Cold air rushed to your flushed skin, “What do you need, kitten?” Two large eyes, yellow and red, looked up from your lap.

“I want to feel you. Inside.” Your eyes flitted up as his mouth returned to his measured pace on your clit. Whimpering, you thought about reaching back and inserting your own fingers when you found your new friend beat you to it. His spaded tail folded in on itself and slipped past your twitching entrance.

You choked out a noise, the sensation something entirely foreign. Smooth and cold, he just needed to get the tip inside for you to start moaning in earnest. Your body was rocking between his tongue and his tail, shortening the intervals as you ramped up to your orgasm. 

His hands on your thighs tightened, clawed hands digging into your flesh. His moan made your feet cramp, legs now twitching. “Close— Luci!” Talking felt like losing your place, but the way he moaned in response egged you on, “Luci! Please don’t sto-,” your abdomen tight, body locked as it edged to that peak, your pleas to not stop devolved into whispered a, “no no no no god no” into the wooden bed frame.

Lucifer’s hands snaked up your sides, holding onto your waist he pulled your full weight down into his mouth, tail twisting as it thrust in and out of you. Just deep enough that the large edge of the spade was spreading your lips with every movement. 

Eyes closed, your body shook violently over his face as you finally broke through, orgasm flooding your system with endorphins. Feet, legs,  stomach, hands, everything loosened. Luci’s tongue stopped, tail slipping out. 

You didn’t make a move, needing a second to just bask in the feeling.

Before it fully waned, Luci’s arms came up and over your thighs before he pushed your body toward his chest. And then you felt yourself falling backwards.

He’d pushed himself off the bed and flipped you so quickly you hadn’t even seen it happen. Vision adjusting you saw his yellow eyes now red, red and black horns sprouted from his forehead.

“Open up for Daddy, kitten.” He was fully buried in your softened pussy before you could form a thought. Your body hadn’t forgotten his size, but you still felt a burning at your entrance where the skin struggled to stretch for him. Luci’s body fell onto yours, his hands bringing your legs up past his hips and behind his back. You hooked your feet together around his waist and held on with both arms, eyes rolling back with every thrust.

“You feel so good, you’re so tight,” he moaned directly into your ear. Bodies tightly pressed together, an embrace where only his hips would leave your skin and just long enough to piston back into you. Your legs were so far up that your hips weren’t on the bed anymore. The angle made your head fall back, muscles unable to receive signals from your bliss addled brain. His arms were under yours, resting beneath your back and on your shoulders, pulling you tighter into to him. You felt surrounded by him, every part of your body touching his. A tangle of flesh and whimpers. “You’re so beautiful, kitten. You take daddy’s cock so well. I’m melting.” His horns brushed against your head, the sound of them slipping across the comforter with every thrust reminding you of their presence.

Lucifer felt lost in you. He fought to keep his mind clear enough to ensure his embrace stayed gentle. You were a bundle of softness and heat under him. He felt his balls creeping up, tightening as he was ready to chase your own orgasm with his. For a second his eyes searched the immediate area for Alastor. The word “cum” ringing in his ears.

With a sigh, hot and heavy at your neck, he pressed into you as far as his body could enter. As you could feel the warmth of his cum filling you, your cunt began to spasm around him. Body instinctively hungry for him. His hands hooked under your shoulders held you still, your legs still tight around his waist.

You stayed there until you both were breathing normally. Your legs fell down, thighs falling open as you released your grip on him. Luci didn’t move for another minute, opting to rest his head in your chest. Silence, just the gently rolling waves of soft pleasure and contentment still coming.

Satiated, you suddenly felt so drowsy. “Luci.”

His head popped up, horns gone and sclera back to yellow, “Yes, kitten?”

“Blankets.” You let your eyes closed, feeling the comforter being pulled to you.

Alastor walked in to find you both asleep, Lucifer still on top of you, heads at the foot of the bed and feet on the pillows. The comforter half assed folded over your bodies.

He wasn’t surprised. Alastor peeled Luci off of you and tossed him onto the pillows. 

“Fuck you, hair cut,” Lucifer whispered, between awake and asleep.

“Yes yes, your majesty. Fuck you too.” Alastor picked you up and set you where you belonged. He pulled the blankets over you both, taking a beat to stare down at the scene.

Beloved, happily asleep. Obnoxious monarch, looking angelic beside you. Lucifer looked so much more tolerable when sleeping.

He considered for a moment returning to his own room, as he had planned all along. Looking from you to Lucifer, he felt something swell in his chest. 

Keeping you was a treasure. A treasure he trusted would always be his. But to have you and the king of hell? Not just influence by way of your ties to Lucifer? Well, that could bring power.

His mother always recommended containment for mint, Alastor pulling too many and not allowing for them to enjoy the benefits of their hard work for very long. Containment, he considered, locking the bedroom door and taking his place beside you.

⫘⫘⫘

When there was a knock in the morning all three of you popped up from the pillows.

“Who the hell is that? It’s so early…” your eyes struggled to focus on the clock.

“Fffuck,” Alastor held his face in his hands. “I forgot I-,”

“Hello?” Charlie said into the door.

You and Lucifer slowly turned to stare at Alastor, a thin smile from ear to ear on his face.

“Alastor asked me to wake you up. So you wouldn’t miss the planning meeting.”

“Can’t a demon be a little chaotic now and then?” Alastor mused, your eyes boring holes into his skull. 

The doorknob rattled, “Oh… He said it would be open. Well, okay… I guess I’ll let you sleep! Maybe next week!”

As Charlie made her way down the hall she just missed the sound of furniture moving and a thud as Lucifer tackled Alastor out of the bed and onto the floor, hands on his throat. 

This was going to be a problem.

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list): @cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

[charliemwrites]

Sooooo I learned a valuable lesson last night. Which is not to draft things in tumblr. Because I wrote almost all of this in drafts, was like 15 minutes from posting. And then the app glitched when I changed the song I was listening to and lost everything.

I’m not entirely sure I wrote this version half as well as the original, which is maddening. But please enjoy this next part to the Mister(s) Steal Your Girl (poly 141) series.

Content:Safe/Sane/Consensual Intimacy

You honestly didn’t expect to speak to Kyle again after the bookshop encounter. Sure, you exchanged numbers and he seemed so sincere, but your faith in reading people has been a bit shaken as of late.

That said, you wouldn’t have held it against him if you didn’t. You’d had a wonderful time meeting someone new, even if just for a moment. He seemed like a busy man in a high-stress job, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he looked at your open-relationship-with-a-fiance situation and decided it was too much drama.

But the very next day after meeting him, he sends you a text. Repeating that he had a great time and asking if you’ve already started any of the books you bought.

You try (and probably fail) not to giggle like a schoolgirl every time he texts you. He’s as sweet through the phone as he was in person. Throughout the week, he checks on you (more messages than you’ve gotten from your fiance in a month) asking after your days and nights and generally chatting.

On Thursday at lunch, you ask if he’d like to meet up again, heart clenching anxiously. Nearly throw your phone across the break room when his name pops up as an incoming call.

When you answer, he doesn’t even waste time on a greeting.

“I’d like to take you on a date, luv,” he specifies, voice silky and amused in your ear.

Date one is a nice dinner. He shows up at the door with flowers. You have to take a second to blink away the mist in your eyes.

“Sorry, sorry,” you hurry to say, summoning a smile. “Just no one’s ever bought me flowers. Thank you, they’re wonderful.”

And then you realize that probably sounds pathetic and quickly turn away to deposit them in a vase. (Miss the baffled and almost offended frown on Kyle’s face as that processes.)

At dinner, the two of you toast by tapping your appetizers together. He feeds you bites of his meal from his own fork, and you let him try your wine, giggling at the faces he makes.

The night ends (after dessert, a walk in the park, and a nightcap at a quiet bar) at your front door. Kyle fits a big, warm hand on your waist, pulls you in… and drops a chaste kiss to your cheek.

You try not to let your disappointment show, but he must catch it because he chuckles and gently nudges your face back into position. Graces you with another kiss at the corner of your mouth.

“I want to, darling,” he admits, so close you’re sharing air. “Trust me, I want to. But I need you to know I’m doing this for the right reasons too.”

Touched and a little choked up, you hug him tight, cheek pressed to his chest. His breath stutters. And then his strong arms are curling around you, tucking you in, his whole body becoming a warm haven.

“Can we… can we do this again?” you ask hopefully.

“Darling, I’d take you out tomorrow if you’d let me.”

Date two is bowling, which you find Kyle is actually terrible at, despite being a sniper. You laugh and joke through three games, trouncing him each time. He doesn’t seem to mind losing in the slightest, and even takes you out for a victory ice cream afterwards. You hold hands while you lick at the cone.

Date three, you invite him to a wine and paint night. He seems willing, though unsure. By the end, though, the two of you are giggling and tipsy, paint on your hands and faces. He kisses you against the passenger door of his car, lips soft and gentle. Moans when the tip of his tongue skims your bottom lip.

On date four, you sing to the radio in the car. Blush when you catch him sneaking glances at you, but also notice that he goes around the same block twice. Tease that you’re going to be late if he keeps stalling.

At the end of the night, he sweeps you in close on the dance floor.

“Come home with me?” he asks in your ear.

Your heart stumbles as you nod, cheeks hot.

He barely gets you in the door before pressing you back against it. Fingers in your hair, body one firm line pressed flush to yours. Kissing earnest but not rough, flicking at your bottom lip until you open for him with a soft sigh. He tastes like heaven, like the drinks you shared before this. Your fingers curl into his Henley, tugging him closer, arching your back.

The desire he’s been steadily building in your gut bursts into an inferno. You’re burning all over, can barely breathe. Dizzy with his cologne.

You break the kiss with a squeak when he scoops up beneath the thighs.

“I-I’m too heavy!” you gasp, clinging tight.

“Like hell you are,” he scoffs. “Come back here, I’m not done kissing you.”

You hesitate, taking stock. But he doesn’t feel like he’s straining; didn’t even make that mortifying grunt noise. Feel secure enough to lean back just a bit to check his expression.

There’s not an ounce of effort there. Just liquid dark eyes focused on your swollen lips, tilting his chin to coax you back. You go with a little thrill in your stomach, messier this time, teeth scraping.

He bumps you against the wall on his way to the bedroom. It doesn’t hurt but it makes you laugh against his cheek.

“Love your laugh,” he murmurs into your neck. “Could listen to it all day.”

Somehow that makes you flush more than the hard bulge pressing against your ass. So you shove your tongue in his mouth again to shut him up, breathless at his tongue curling against yours.

You squeal when he drops you on the bed with a little bounce, a brilliant, cheeky smile your reward. Then he tugs his shirt off and your mind goes utterly blank.

He’s a monument of strength and discipline, power in every plane of hard-earned muscle. There are glossy scars peppering his skin, and you’re fascinated as much as you are sad for his pain. He looks like a young god. You’ve seen marble statues half as beautiful as him.

“You’re bloody gorgeous,” you whisper, crawling to the edge of the bed.

He shivers and leans into your palms as they explore up his toned stomach, across the defined lines of his chest and shoulders, down his arms. Leave open-mouthed kisses against long-healed wounds and patches of smooth skin alike, appreciating every part of him.

He uses your interlocked fingers to draw you away, bending to meet you halfway. Speckles kisses over your cheeks and jaw, down to a tender spot beneath your ear that makes you hum. You could melt into him and just float.

He pauses there, breathes you in. “Can I take this off?” he asks, plucking at your shirt. You hesitate, just for a beat — but it’s enough to have Kyle pulling back a little.

“We can stop here,” he offers. “Or we can just keep doing this. Whatever you want, luv, I’m not fussed.”

You duck your head, but he doesn’t let you escape for long, gently guiding your gaze up by the chin.

“Talk to me?” he asks.

“I-I want to keep going,” you say, “I’m just… and you’re so…”

He shakes his head, kisses you quiet. “I’m not anything but a man that wants to make his girl happy. In whatever way she’s okay with, yeah?”

You have to blink away another sting of inopportune tears. Then reach for your shirt and pull it off yourself.

“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, eyes going big.

You flush as he nudges you back, spread out amongst the neat sheets and pillows. His eyes trace every inch of you over and over, hands quick to follow. The contrast of his rough palms on your skin makes you squirm and sigh. He touches you like you’re something special, like he wants to savor you.

He nibbles kisses into your collarbones, lavishes your breasts with tongue and gentle teeth. Works his way down your stomach and stops again.

“Can I take the rest off?” he asks.

You don’t hesitate this time, shifting to give him access to the zipper. His hands fumble a bit when he notices the embarrassing wet patch on your underwear, thumbing at your slit through the fabric.

“Please let me eat you out,” he breathes.

You press your thighs together, nervous. “Y-you don’t have to…”

“I want to, luv,” he answers, eyes barely flickering away. “Fuck do I want to.”

Words desert you, so all you can manage is a jerky nod. For the first time, his patience seems to fray as he tugs your underwear off. Barely gets them down to one ankle before diving between your legs.

He laces sweet kisses along your thighs and hips, slowing as he gets closer and closer to where you want him most. His tongue dips into your slit, just skims your throbbing and sensitive clit. You moan softly. The next swipe of his tongue is bolder, curling at your soaked entrance. He groans into you, deep and animal from his chest and makes you shudder.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers. “Just enjoy.”

It’s impossible not to when he pampers your cunt so thoroughly. Never rough, never too fast. Like he could spend all night between your thighs. Sucking gently at your clit, thrusting his tongue inside, lapping in perfect, even strokes. You didn’t think you enjoyed oral from the few times you’ve experienced it — but Kyle makes it heavenly.

One of his hands, squeezing absently at your hip, travels down. He presses a finger at your entrance, playing in your slick but not going further. Waiting. You murmur a soft “please” that nearly has him growling.

Even just one finger feels like so much. His hands are bigger than yours. And so deliciously clever. It’s not long before you’re babbling for another, crying out softly when he provides. Two fingers curling and rubbing against your slick, sensitive walls and his tongue swirling around your needy clit — it’s so much. Overwhelming and perfect.

“K-Kyle, ‘m gonna…” you keen, shocked by how quickly it’s building.

Then he hums an encouragement and that little extra bit of stimulation sends you hurtling over the edge. You clench around his hand, hips twitching, grinding against his willing mouth through wave after wave. Not even aware of the noises you’re making until they fade off into soft whimpers of overstimulation.

Kyle eases his fingers from you, drops one last kiss to your hip. The lower half of his face is glistening. If you weren’t still somewhere in the stratosphere, you’d be embarrassed. But right now all you can manage is a quiet, needy noise, reaching for him.

He smiles and crawls over you, the warmth of his body soothing your shivery muscles, easing you through aftershocks. You wipe absently at his chin as you exchange lazy, sloppy kisses. Surprised to find that you don’t mind the taste of yourself; not much different than jizz.

“Give me… another second…” you mumble, head falling back as you catch your breath. “I’ll return the favor.”

Against your leg, you can feel him twitch through his jeans. He feels big. Your stomach clenches with want.

“That sounds bloody amazing, don’t get me wrong,” he answers, voice husky in your ear. “But if you’re up for it, I’d like to feel you cumming ‘round my cock.”

You gasp, not sure if you’re scandalized or even more turned on than before. Both?

“Wait, but I already…”

“I know, I was there,” he teases, kissing your temple. “But I wanna see it again. Feel it proper this time.”

You pause, blinking up at him as you trace your fingers along his ribs. “But isn’t that… I dunno, unfair?”

“Fuck no,” he answers. “I’d spend all night just making you cum if you let me.”

You huff and swat at him. “I think you’d kill me.”

“What a way to go, though, eh?” he chuckles, arching his eyebrows.

You groan, but there’s no hiding your grin. He brushes hair back from your face, cups your cheek.

“What do you say, baby? Let me fuck you good and proper.”

You snort, turn to nip his thumb in relation, but chirp, “yes, please!”

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Masterlist

[astrow0rldx]

PAC TAROT 18+: their sexual energy towards you 🎥❤️‍🔥

pile one

they think your fine asf, sexy asffff, like beautiful. they put you on a high pedestal & high worth. they love your ass, they wanna do some backshots & u throw it back lmao. idk if their competing for you, ur putting up boundaries, or they are but someone’s standing on business & fighting for what they want. they might be scared of something, overthinking depending on your situation but it’s some anxious energy when they desire you. if your not giving them sex maybe their frustrated. but they would love some nudes, facetime sex. do they like to record? he thinks your so sexy & has a crushhh like he intends on coming back, bringing it back. just celebrating in child like excitement, gifting you, missing you because your so sexyy. why can’t he have youuu, like he feeling trapped to be honest. he just feel so awwnnn🫧. he probably just trying to get through you not having sex if you guys are not active currently & feels like your forbidden ⛓️ but he deeply desires you, baddd. your his type like the type of people he watches porn on. i could see them thinking about traveling, exploring & growing with you. the sexual experience they think about is at home, nice experience. i see like intimate, grownnn people drunk in LOVE type sexxx. we be all nighttt, LOVEEEEE. they definitely wanna get in between them legs, love your legs, how you sit! he think of you of each other peace of mind, like what you guys need.

pile two

okay, so i see a clear situation for some people this is someone that is at your job, school, that you guys work on something together, like professional partners. you might be a stranger that sit next to you, or work with you that they are plotting on how to come forward. for some you are probably still a stranger, or not as close and they see you being long term, and they want to work together and build something and a foundation with you that would be a wish fulfillment. their sexual thoughts is probably commitment, a lot of potiental. build on a relationship first? & wants to have a happy, both fulfilling and pleasurable time. their KINKYY. asf, and their desires with you is very unique, animalistic, lustful, and fetishes. a lot of 10s omg every card im turning over, this is stable, this is long term. this is something he willing to keep fucking, and do a lot with you. even if the sex is a lot of work and they picking u up. they want to grab on your hips and your ass. they definitely intend on getting in that, starting a spark, having a joyful exciting time. like they going to have some FUN sex with you make you happy. kissing while they in it. they love you, omg your their queen. lmao but the sex is going to be emotional but not vanilla at all. overall they might be mysterious, or you are. and it’s a crush, idk if they seem like your not feeling it or vice versa. or for someee people maybe their moral, mature and having flirty feelings waiting for a relationship again this can be your energy.

pile three

so currently this situation doesn’t look to present, active or in the best of terms. was it cheating going on?? is someone scared, trapped, and heartbroken. they still wanna fuck 👉🏽👈🏽 they intend on taking a risk & going for it. they want to start something new with you. you turn them on when your around them. they have a lot of not too lustful, but not to mature & commited sexual energy. “girl i can see your stressed, come rely on me for sex”. he wants to drink or smoke with you. get you wettt asf. you can just lay back on they bed and they wanna give to you and try some of that. if this person is kind of young they might have a objectifying mindset, but he’s satisfied. if you been posting yourself and you guys are not together they get turned on but irritated (im picking up on a cheating situation for some people). they think about sex toys with you. when your climaxxxing & being territorial over you. whoever cheated i see someone on their if you have dark hair they like that.

[gangplanksorenji]

Kinknuary Day 13: Uniform Kink

Pairing: NewJeans Hanni x Male Reader

Word Count: 5,562

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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It’s just another goddamn stressful day that you’ll be tackling and you just can’t wait for it to end. Even teaching a class full of boisterous students sends you into a hellhole of utter stress and dismissing them is such a sigh of relief—you still show empathy and enthusiasm to teach and make them learn new things but there are just times where it’s really unbearable but you fight through it, following your moral code of conduct.

Yet one student stood out from the rest, not really because of her academic performance (in which she is already doing decently great) but, in the way she dressed that literally doesn’t follow the campus’ dress code.

As she’s about to leave and get her bangs packed and ready, you suddenly called out her name in a formal manner as you caught her attention off-guard. Of course, she rolls her eyes in subtle annoyance as her friends opted to just wait for her onto the campus’ canteen and Hanni agrees on that and averted her attention towards you.

“What is it, professor?” Hanni asks you with little-to-no-interest as wants this to end as quickly as possible as she has more endeavors to be in with.

“Ms. Pham, I would like to talk about something that I’m pretty sure you’re aware of.” Your stern demeanor intimidates Hanni as the presence of gravitas within you makes her feel a hint of nervousness, unsure on what you may talk about.

“I don’t seem to know what you’re talking about, professor?” She seems to not be cognizant about what you’re talking about as there’s multiple reasons on why you may call her out. It may seem sincere but she may act oblivious just to trick you but you could never be so sure, so you enlightened her with a fact. “Don’t you see what you’re wearing, Ms. Pham? Don’t you see that it definitely doesn’t follow the dress code of the school’s regulations.”

“Oh, I guess I’m sorry, professor. I don’t know anything about this regulation-thingy and what are you going to do about this, hm, strip it out of me, professor?”

God, this girl—Pham Hanni, yes, this girl is not the girl you don’t want to deal with. Everybody knows how bratty and stubborn she can get whenever she’s being disciplined and snapped back to her place, despite her bubbly and friendly attitude. With that iron wall that’s strong within her, you want to teach her a lesson and break it despite the possible risks and you might need to even take it a step further than the most primitive ways of disciplining students.

You let out a deep sight as silence ensues and then, you slammed hard on the desk and gave her a cold, stern gaze that startled and scared Hanni. “Don’t you dare talk to your professor this way, Ms. Pham Hanni—and I know you’re not this oblivious to not know about the school’s rules and regulations, don’t you?”

And as much as you’re having the higher authority right now, Hanni herself didn’t back down without a fight and rather provoked your inner fire that you didn’t absolutely like but your patience is staying stronger than steel, fighting through her stubborn behavior. It became continuous that the both of you are starting to argue like little kids but you still maintain your composition yet Hanni’s erupting like a volcano gone rogue right now and there’s one thing to deal with this, moreso, privately.

“Then why does it matter so much for you, professor? Just say the words and I—”

“Go to my office now, Pham Hanni.” You interrupted her with a single sentence as her heart dropped massively as fear now emanated on her eyes, as she never saw you this serious before. As much as she wants to complain or retaliate, she doesn’t want to get in any trouble or escalate this situation further so, without any choice, she packed her things and went to your office with you, of course—you need to guard her since she might immediately escape and catch you off-guard, unprepared and you don’t want that to happen.

Once you’ve reached your office, you offer her a seat as you turn on the lights and sit on your chair, ready to further talk about her annoying and frustrating behavior.

“Professor, if it’s just another dumb talk about my bitchy behav—”

“Can you just stay quiet, please?” You retort in response with her talkative antics that made you boil in anger and immediately, Hanni shuts her mouth silent and gulps nervously. “You are being a nuisance to a lot—let me repeat it again for you, a lot of professors, whether it’s your stubbornness or you just being incapable of following such simple instructions and being selfish, it’s getting out of hand.” You blow a deep breath as you’re about to tame a beast like Hanni as you’re preparing for another pointless hindrance that further makes everything go down into flames. 

You’re just as puzzled as most of the people that knew her and you hate that one thing that really shows how much the professors despise her—her bratty attitude that will never fade as the boys around her fall in love with that and it’s just something wrong. As much as you don’t like her not following the dress code the school has implemented, you can’t lie and dive into your hypocrisy with the beauty that lies within her because of her aesthetically hot school uniform outfit. Of course, you won’t let your intrusive thoughts win and remain composed throughout the time being of disciplining her and making her snap back to her roots.

Yet you have a single trick up your sleeve whenever this gets out of hand, and you’re just holding onto this for a while, testing your patience.

“We don’t know what to do anymore with you so a little cooperation will be appreciated if you will just—”

“But here’s the thing, professor—” Hanni pushes the chair a little back, before standing and giving you a subtle smirk in aims to lower down your guard. “—at the end of the day, it’s not going to harm anyone and you can’t do anything with it, hah.”

“Hanni, it’s not just that—it’s all about the discipline and the control of your—”

“Oh, stop it, professor—” Hanni walks towards you as your senses heightened, absolutely flummoxed with her eager movements towards you as she’s obviously seducing you into making you fall down her spell. “—don’t tell me you don’t like how pretty I look in this outfit.”

In all means, she’s goddamn right and there’s no way on earth you would say a no but of course, you’re fighting the urge of your primal desires as you brush her approaching advancements to lure you in, retaliating and further wanting Hanni to back down even though you know that she’ll just advance without anyone to stop her.

“Stop this madness, Pham Hanni—you’re not going to—”

“I’m absolutely in this, professor—stop being a hypocrite and tell me how pretty I look with this uniform.”

It’s her accent and her saccharine voice that further doesn’t help with your defensive state against her unstoppable will. You can’t lie how perfectly beautiful she looks in this possibly-cursed uniform as every inch ultimately highlights her slender waist, her beautiful thighs and her perky mounds and you hate it. Maybe, she dressed like this for a purpose but you’re not so sure and you’re running out of time before you unshackle everything that has been caged for so long.

Knowing that hypocrisy is such utter bullshit, you finally give in a little as you start to stutter and mutter such complimentary words that Hanni catches her ears on it.

“You l-look good in this outfit, Hanni—not going to lie with you. Your curves, your thighs, it’s just perfect for you.”

Hanni finally smiles widely with her eyes drawing such crescent moons, emanating her cuteness towards you. She’s delighted to hear your sincere takes on her outfit and decided to take it a step further than ever before. Hanni then closes towards you as her hands palmed your chest, the warmth of it making you overwhelmed and excited as your heart races its beat like it’s catching something.

“I guess you want something to deal with this, right, professor? And don’t you dare say no because—” Hanni looks at your eyes endearingly with aims to further lure you onto her spell as her thick Australian accent followed by her sweet voice seduces you further, “—I can see in your eyes, professor—your pretty, black eyes says it all…” She further puts gasoline on the flames as she caresses her hands slowly on your chest, making you feel the affection and sincerity of Hanni’s eyes and because of your clever mind, you knew exactly where this is going as you fully gave in to your animalistic urges and broke apart your stern, teacher-like persona.

“I do want you, Hanni. I can’t believe I’m saying this but you’re so goddamn pretty and hot.” You took some quick peeks on her impeccable features as she saw this, smiling at the fact that you’re admiring her scrumptious body and her pretty face.

“I know professor—you’re hot and pretty handsome too. You don’t know this but—” Hanni tiptoes as you slightly slouch in order for her to be in level with you as she whispers in your ear, “—I had a crush on you for a long time now, professor.”

This may sound unorthodox for you but you feel your heart beating triple its normal rate, finding Hanni’s advances wholesome and flustering. It may sound wrong as you want to unhear what Hanni just said but you can’t help yourself with your own desires and even wanting more. Knowing that Hanni’s touches are getting bolder enough for you to act up, you gently push her hands off on your chest as she pouts cutely, dejected with your retaliating advances yet she doesn’t give up, at her watch.

“Hanni—we can’t be doing this. This is just wrong, I’m sorry—”

“But professor—” Hanni lays down onto the couch as she displays herself in front of you and all you can see is an angel getting ready to be sullied. “—don’t you wanna think of something else? Like, kissing me, making me rile up or just ruining me with this goddamn uniform? Come on professor, make a girl worth her while…”

With your own desires taking over you, you can’t be bothered to really make yours unattended as her primal calls make up for your time as you were lured by her own devilish remarks. You pin her down at the couch as she yelped in response, feeling a little shocked with your aggressive actions but she never wanted you to break the heated atmosphere that has been building up as she grabbed your collar and kissed you intimately.

This is totally wrong—you said to yourself but you didn’t care anymore, not when Hanni’s plump, luscious lips are in contact with yours, sharing such an intimate kiss as the both of you find yourselves even indulging deeper and not wanting to end this so soon but speak of the devil, Hanni pulls out of the latch of your lips as she looks at you with need in her eyes. Can’t seem to really contain yourself anymore because of such a hot scene, you thought of something that will change the course of this session and will start things off incredibly well.

“Get on your knees, Hanni. I’ll probably assume you know where this will go, right?”

Getting up on the couch, Hanni eagerly obliged to your request as she knelt down in front of you with her eyebrows furrowed, a little nervous about what you may have in store. Hanni knows what you’re coming up with but she just wants everything to be confirmed by you so she didn’t hesitate to ask you about it. “Are you s-sure about this, professor?”

“Yes, Hanni—I am more than sure. Besides, no one will know any of this and have no secret cameras installed here anyways. Now, do your thing and impress me.”

Your tone makes her heart drop as the heat makes everything intense as your stern face intimidates her but it didn’t bother her to start her own service. Her hands trembled a bit but she didn’t care as she continued unbuckling your belt and then unbuttoning your pants as you mildly groan due to her hurried actions as her touch feels enchanting, the hotness rivaling the cold air that had permeated around the room. Even with the possible uneasiness laced in every move she does when she’s stripping you, you can’t help but be in awe of how she’s genuinely interested in what she’s doing as the lust and anticipation glistens on her dark orbs.

“Have you done this before, Hanni?”

Hanni, still busy with her current activity, takes a second before she could respond as she looks at your eyes endearingly and mutters, “Not really, professor—just on my toys though, so I had some little practice at my end.”

You scoff as you were shocked by Hanni’s dirty, little secret but you didn’t take it as a joke or way too seriously—it’s just great that she had experienced it with even a silicon toy but now, she’ll be trying the real thing and it’s just going to be better than this. Now, with your last defense left before her grand treasure, Hanni didn’t waste any time and let the feral beast inside you be unshackled from its frustrating restraints and god, Hanni’s eyes lit in awe and amazement as she gets her first treatment and a sight of such a beautiful, perfect cock.

“Professor—it looks good and thick. It feels so warm and nice on my hand too—woahh...”You can see how adventurous and how new Hanni is in these kinds of things as she’s just in full-admiration of your entire length now all for her to taste and use. You want to show some mercy with Hanni, even with her bitchy attitude that makes you want to teach her lesson, you’d still keep the feral beast inside you for now as you don’t want yourself to grow impatient, reminding Hanni on what to really do.

“Show me what those plump lips can do, Hanni—show me what they’re really made of.”

“Yes, professor…” With no time to waste, her soft flesh meets your engorged tip as she sends multiple pecks onto it, from your tip down to the base her actions immediately send waves of pleasure and it's a pandemonium of delight. Sudden surge of pleasure does course down your veins and you can’t help but let out moans that screams volumes of peak delight and gratification with the incredible work of Hanni’s lips marking every inch of your shaft with her touch and she’s barely even doing anything on your cock yet. 

Well, you didn’t need to imagine anymore nor Hanni as she envelops her soft lips all over your tip, just pushing it almost the frenulum as she eagerly bobs her head and sucked onto your length like it’s favorite popsicle. With you sitting onto the couch, you may think that Hanni’s struggling a little due to the position but she shows no signs of it as she continues her masterclass of an incredible display of her talented mouth doing wonder all over your length. She definitely knows how to suck a damn cock like yours, even if she said she hasn't had a real one and just done it with her toys makes you think if she’s lying on her teeth but you didn’t mind it as you let do an incredible job between your legs. Inevitably, saliva seeps out at the side of her mouth and onto her chin due to her furious bobbing as it stains the couch and makes it a little wet—adds to the element of a messy, sloppy, and most of all, a great blowjob session.

With now taking more than half of your length everytime she thrusts her mouth on your cock, a gag can be heard resonating around the room as it’s bound to make your arousal soar higher than the heavens, and it absolutely did. She didn’t stop sucking you, moreso, even pull out quickly enough to catch her breath as she gives you the best she could deliver as she’s totally serving the dish hotter than what you expected, all of the elements coming all together in aims to reach a single goal: to make you stimulated enough to blow a healthy, thick load. With her furious bobbing onto your constantly throbbing penis, you grabbed her blonde-highlighted dark streaks as an outlet to fight the constant pleasure you’re experiencing and wanting yourself to give her a treat, you caught her off-guard by simple forcing your entire length down her throat as it hits the back of it, activating her gag reflex and immediately, she forced out of your saliva-sheathed member as she catches her breath in response.

“Wha—What w-was that professor?”

“I just wanted to feel your entire throat and if you can take it whole, Hanni—go on and continue…”

Hanni throwed a slight glare because of your sudden harsh actions towards her but she brushed it off immediately and got back onto sucking your raging length again. This time, it was better considering how she locks eye contact with you periodically, more often that earlier and with a new and a better addition, Hanni’s dainty fingers finding its way to fondle your balls for further stimulation as it became so frequent that you increase the quality and also the volume of your moans and that alone sends Hanni onto a better task at making your brain go haywire.

There’s is no absolute way that this can get any better—Hanni bobbing her up and down furiously as she gags every time she does it, saliva seeping out her mouth and staining the vicinity around her lips, her tears and makeup getting ruined because of her own harsh doings against your length, and the peak of the iceberg is herself in her uniforms which turns you on so fucking much—and there’s nothing you can ask for at this moment. Her pace is just getting ridiculous at this point that it’s all going to get out of hand soon because you’re feeling the familiar sensation growing up in your loins as you have  more plans ahead for this girl as the both of you are just starting.

Well, you never knew that a girl in her uniform would make such a blowjob session thrice as hot as you’ve ever thought about and maybe, you just found yourself a new fetish.

“S-Stop, Hanni…” Your pleas fall deaf onto her ears as the sounds of her constant slurping and her sheer focus on sucking you off makes off a wall to refrain herself from any distraction. Gathering up more strength, you raise your voice in hope for her to hear you as you can feel yourself going near that high you’ve been waiting for but you don’t want it deep down her throat.

“I said stop, Pham Hanni!”

Fear took over her as she’s startled and afraid with your tone, immediately stopping and pulling out of your drool-lathered, throbbing length as connections of saliva were evident.

“Did I d-do something wrong, p-professor?” You could feel the fright laced between her words as felt bad and guilty with it, so you reassured her in the nicest way possible as you don’t want this to end so quickly and anti-climactic.

“No—I want my load to be deep in your pussy because girls like you don’t deserve a load deep down their slutty throats…”

“B-But I deserved it!”

“I won’t repeat myself, Hanni.”

You’re not wrong, by any means. If she misbehaved so badly and acted like an unbearable brat earlier, then it’s just fair making her be deprived of your seed. You commanded her to stand up as she did so, and you helped her with that and not so long after, you ordered her again to bend herself over, her hands palmed all over the wall as she gave out an excited look, Hanni anticipating what you may still have in store up your sleeve.

“Do you w-want me to strip off m-my clothing?” Like your growing fetish onto hot and petite girls in uniforms, you can’t be bothered to see her naked as two brilliant things are the reasons: one, she’s still within the school’s premises as you don’t want her to be utterly ruined and naked when the both of you are done and two, you really want to sully her with her uniforms on as it’s such an arousing sight to see her curvature and her impeccable features being complimented by her uniform. With this conclusion, you came up with a single reasoning and replied to her—

“No, I want your uniform stayed on—you’ll look better ruined with those on and look too great on that.”

Hearing this, Hanni’s lips curled up a smirk as she knew how to really turn you on right from the start. She knows her captivating and alluring aura will send down your defenses and will break your stern persona as a professor and given the fact that her in a uniform turns you on even more than what she expected, makes everything better and more arousing. Now, with her unparalleled pleas of needs towards you, you can’t help but feel yourself inching closer towards a heavenly route towards your own sin—and you’re about to take such a bold risk that will define your limits and Hanni’s and it’s all about to break down. With her petite and slender figure bent over and ready for taking, you take a moment to admire her plump cheeks and her beautifully sculpted thighs that it’s in the right amount of thickness. You caress your palm over it as your fingers slowly run over the hem of her white-laced panties, stretching it out a little in order to tease her and not for long, your deftly swiped it down to her ankles as you were met with her glistening, needy cunt that’s already dripping and you don’t know when it started.

With that desired treasure within your reach, you’re in no state to not dive into it yet your conscience fights with you but you manage to calm it down as you fully indulge on your own needs and immediately, you plunge your length in her with a harsh grip on her thighs as a leverage and god, her moans are basically the purest and the most erotic sound you’ve ever heard in your entire life—such sultriness and sweetness behind her lustful needs makes it such a great symphony to listen as rhapsodies of her delighted feelings escapes her mouth, further muttering such lovely moans that greatly fueled your lust over her.

You know this is wrong—so besmirching yet you’re at the point of no-return and just finding yourself being lured deeply into the abyss of your primal desires.

“God—p-professor—your cock—oh, it’s so big and n-nice up my tight, l-little cunt!”

“You’re t-tight as fuck too, Hanni—let me guess though—” You then inch closer towards her ear and fixed her hair as some of it falls back onto the other side as you muttered, “—you’ve tried shoving up your toys in this tight pussy, isn’t it?”

Hanni’s already at her vulnerable point as she can’t think of any articulate response rather than moaning in need yet she manages to fight through it, uttering a reply before she can let out her lustful profanities again. “Y-Yes—yes, professor! I l-love playing w-with my toys that’s why—fuck, so good!”

As you ensue such powerful yet slow thrusts, Hanni can’t help but voice out her satisfaction each time you do it as her thighs jiggling in response to your harsh movements is bringing you into a hypnotic trance. With her delectable buttcheeks being a victim of such vibrations due to your constant ramming of her cunt and with that such, you gave her a single spank that reverberated around the room and Hanni herself cried in intense pleasure because of it. With such an incredibly hot sight of Hanni in her uniform, getting railed from behind, you can’t help but make yourself unable to maintain the pace even if you wanted it slow with Hanni and you didn’t last long and gave in to your primal instincts and let your hips do the work.

Your new profound pace makes Hanni writhe as her fist forms tight curls from the constant course of pleasure running down her veins, making her stimulated enough to drip around your ravaging member and onto the floor, staining it with her own succulent juices. Your hands now averted its attention towards her shoulders and then her perky mounds in which you slowly groped, and fondled them carefully while still maintaining a breakneck pace that’s been forming such heavenly clouds of gratification that makes the best for both worlds. She lets out a series of satisfied moans, but this time, it’s more sultry and more of a whimper in your words as your intimate actions brings her closer onto her own promised land.

“Oh fuck—professor! P-Please k-keep doing—fuck, ahh—that!!”

It was the same words uttered earlier and until now, and you’ll never get tired of it and will even make her a ruined mess that can only moan such lifeless syllables full of lust. With your relentless pace and such stimulating actions onto her small mounds, you further make it worth her while as you kiss her nape and suckled onto the porcelain skin, making her feel cherished and treasured as it’s all just becoming too much for Hanni that she’s unable to control herself, vulnerable on writhing unstoppably as the quivering of thighs would be a reasonable evidence to start with.

If this is what Hanni wanted at the very start, then she’ll get what she wanted—not because she solely deserved this, yet.

“Is this what you wanted, hm, Hanni? You really decided to dress like this to lure me in—well, you fucking got it because—” You keep fucking her steady as she cries from the stimulating actions your hips has been oscillating as her tumultuous mouth letting out the most lustful profanities are coming into a halt. “—I’ll destroy this pussy and fill you up like a good fucking girl and to teach you a fucking lesson!”

With the venom laced being thrown at her, unlocking the pure devilish deeds in you and putting your merciful façade onto its unfortunate demise, you let yourself be unshackled from the restraints you’ve been cursing yourself onto and rammed her tight, wet cunt like there’s no tomorrow. You gave her nothing but a lightning pace as each thrust aims to break her in half, teaching her a lesson and as the cherry on top, to fuck that living bratty and bitchy attitude out of her. Now grabbing the tie that has been an absolute iconic element of her outfit, you used it as a collar for a leverage to further fuck her into oblivion and with this pace, it isn’t going to be long before Hanni meets the end of the line, setting herself up to the top step of absolute lust and peak quality of pleasure—the long-awaited orgasmic trance of Hanni.

You know how close she is with the constant pulsations of her pussy around your ravaging length as you muster up the fastest pace your hips can do just to chase her orgasm further and with an ear-screeching scream of ecstasy, she announces her anticipated high.

“Oh god—I’m g-gonna—fuck—gonna cum on y-your cock, professor! Holy sh—shit!”

“Do it, Pham Hanni—cum on my cock like a good, pretty girl.”

With the last string of her defense now cut down, streams and streams of her nectar flow around your cock as she catches her breath everytime she lets out rounds of such an intense orgasmic high. You didn’t stop your thrusts though, yet you slow down to give her a breather but she looks back at you, wanting you to fully ravage her tight cunt even with her current state. Marking that as a green, you further resume your frantic pace as the wet squelching of her pussy and the constant clashing of both your drenched bodies became an arousing sound to hear as it draws you further to your own peak, inching it closer yet you fight it in order to savor the tight feeling and an ecstatic clenching of her velvety walls around your throbbing shaft. You support Hanni with your muscular arms as you can see how her orgasm depleted a chunk of her energy as her hands became weak, unable to full grip onto the walls as she just became a lifeless form capable of just uttering the most erotic syllables known to man and god, it’s even drawing you closer to the edge as it stimulates you into oblivion, and can’t draw back.

Chasing your own high as you want it as soon as possible, you use her body like you have something to prove to her as you train her with the aims to derive the best pleasure out of it and Hanni’s, too. Even with the orgasm-drunken state of Hanni, she’s able to encourage you to further release in her as she wiggles her bubble butt leisurely, wanting to get off yourself too as her voice captivates you and lures you deep on your darkest, lustful desires.

“Come o-on, professor—use m-my cunt and cum i-in me—please, I w-want it! I’m s-safe so you don’t need t-to worry—ahh—a-about me!”

Your eyebrows furrowed, reluctant with that approach that you may do the unthinkable but yet find yourself thrusting harder and faster, “Are y-you sure, Hanni?”

“Yes! Yes, p-professor—so please, I w-want your load d-deep inside me…”

With Hanni’s reassurance and her further encouragement for your long-awaited release, you trust her as you give her wet, tight walls the final thrusts it deserves as she constantly clenches with your pace, unable to control herself from it as you gave in.

“God—I’m gonna cum so hard in you, Pham Hanni!”

And then, your final blow decimates the last standing defense within you as your euphorically groaned and shoot spurts and spurts  of your treasured load deep inside her cunt as you bury your whole length in her, in aims to fill her up to the womb as she lets out such ecstatic moans with the warmth inside her painting every inch of her walls white with your seed. Your initial response after a mind-bending orgasm that lasted for like fifteen seconds is to pull out slowly and admire the creamy mess you made inside her emanating heat, as the both of you let out such exasperated breaths after a steamy session that no one can possibly top off. Hanni becomes weak as her legs got a little wobbly from your aggressive actions, sitting down slowly at the floor and recovering herself from the earlier euphoric trance and so did you, letting your cock soften as it twitches in need but you didn’t mind anything and take some time to recover.

“Oh my—you came so much in me, professor…” Hanni lightly laughs as it’s contagious, laughing with her and smiling right after, knowing how satisfied she is as much as you did.

“You too—I could literally feel a faucet leaking out of me when you came.” Hanni blushes from your reply as her hands come down to the hem of her panties, pulling it up as some of your semen leaked out and stained her thighs.

Awkward silence ensues right after as both parties slowly descend into recovery, catching breaths and reminiscing—maybe comprehending too—such remarkable moments throughout the intense session of such intimate sex. 

“Oh gosh—well, y-you proved your point already, professor.” Your face paints a confused one as you vaguely remember what she could be talking about.

“Of what, Hanni.”

“Of teaching me a lesson, professor. Would definitely follow your orders from now on.”

You faintly smile from her possibly sarcastic ways of a response of your “discipline” but you can sense the sincerity deep within her despite her unfathomable attitude.

“You know, we should clean up and fix ourselves, Hanni.” 

The both of you then hurriedly got up as you helped Hanni since her legs are weaker right now (but it’s in a state where she can still walk) thanks to your constant ramming at her cunt for like umpteenth times. The both of you fix yourselves and become more presentable and as she’s about to leave, you chat with her for a short while and then waved goodbye at each other but now, both of your faces emanate delight and comfort.

---

As Hanni is walking her way down towards her friends who've been waiting for forever, probably in the school’s canteen, she notices a small note stitched onto her backpack that says, “Thanks for that, Hanni. I’ll be calling you later for something… :)”

Knowing that it’s from you, she can’t help but smile as it went all troublesome but in the end, it all fell down onto curiosity and possibly, a stronger connection.

[phoenix-fell]

As someone who is both an older sister and raised their younger sibling, let me tell you why this scene was so good

It would be so easy to misinterpret Yang’s protectiveness over Blake here, but that’s not what’s happening. We’ve always seen Ruby as happy-go-lucky, follow-your-heart and do-the-right-thing, and it’s easy to forget that Yang raised Ruby, and the implied subtext there is that it *wasn’t* always sunshine and rainbows.

Yes, Yang is protective over her newfound relationship. Yes, she’ll maybe feel a little wounded that her sister is lashing out. But what we see here is Yang shifting ever so subtly into mother-mode. Yang knows this isn’t about Blake, or her and Blake’s relationship, she’s stepping in front of Blake to protect her before Ruby can say or do something she regrets. In essence, protecting both of them and trying to control the situation from escalating. Yang is stepping in front because she can take it, she’s GIVING her someone to yell at, because god knows she’s probably had to, at some point, take some lip in the past while the others have only ever known her as a strong, positive leader. She doesn’t shout at Ruby, she’s calm, lets her get it out and just looks sternly with a simple “Hey!” as in, ‘hey, that’s enough now’. 

Yang has expressed concern, and is concerned, but this is 100% Yang shifting into parent mode. This is brilliant because earlier in the episode and even last episode we’ve seen examples of Yang’s ‘concerned big sister’ side which is soft and supportive. There’s no malice in Yang’s expression, and it’s difficult to catch it because we haven’t had the best representations of ‘good mothers’ in the show, especially not ones that have had to chastise their kids at some point, but you can bet your ass that this is Yang’s parental mode stepping in to bring calm and stability to a chaotic situation. And that doesn’t always present as ‘let’s hug this out’, sometimes it’s stern, tough love and recognising that the younger one isn’t in the space to receive comfort, so the best you can do for them is diffuse the situation and be an authoritative voice of reason because she recognises her sister’s fragile mental state.

This is without going into how amazing Ruby’s portrayal was. Going after your sister’s new relationship is RAW, and personal, but it’s also what siblings do - they lash out sometimes when they’re under stress. The way Ruby says ‘we’re sOoOo happy for you by the way good for you’ - just SMACKS of younger sibling cutting loose and saying something they don’t mean, which makes Yang’s response all the more realistic for me. She recognises the tone, the almost-petulance and steps in before it can go any further.

It’s so subtle, but it SPOKE to me so massive kudos to Miles Luna and the animators for this. And god bless the clowns that use it as some sort of Anti-Bees discourse - the nuance is entirely lost on you.

[prythianpages]

Strange Love | Azriel

Azriel x Green Witch | Summary: In which your daughter, Alora, nearly sends Azriel into a mini crisis when she tells you she has a boyfriend.

warnings: fluff, Az stressing out over his baby girl

word count: 2,700

a/n: This can be read as a stand alone Dad Az fic! Here we have another fic inspired by a Bob's Burgers episode lol. I also wanted to show more of older Mel since we only got a glimpse of her so far.

The house is peaceful and quiet, save for the comforting rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock. A glance at it and Azriel knows the quiet won’t last much longer. Or the peace.

He leans back into the armchair, savoring the warmth of the steaming cup of tea in his hands—a special brew you created just for him many years ago. "A one-of-a-kind brew for a one-of-a-kind male," you had said. You sit beside him on the love seat, legs criss-crossed, with a spell book hovering in front of you, green magic surrounding you. Though it doesn’t look like it, the spells in your ancient book are endless, and judging by the darkened look in your eyes, he senses you must be reading about a new one.

His attention is once more drawn away from the book in his hands as his eyes land on the portrait that hangs over the grand fireplace. It is a family portrait you had commissioned from Feyre years ago. His lips tug up into a fond smile as he remembers the day you all gathered to pose for Feyre. It was hectic and chaotic and full of promises to your daughters to get them to stay still long enough for Feyre to complete her sketch.

It was all worth it, even if it resulted in you giving in to Mel's request and brewing a laughing potion. That she then slipped into Cassian's twins's drinks during your weekly dinners, driving everyone insane...

 You sat on a shorter stool than Azriel, perfectly situated between his legs. His gaze lingers on you, admiring the way Feyre captured your beauty. Your familiar, Binx, was on your lap while your pet spider, Pearl, rested on one of your shoulders. 

Unfortunately, Pearl passed shortly after the portrait was completed. You preserved her web with your own magic, allowing it to stand magnificently in the corner of your living room. Melaina, your firstborn, crocheted a replica of Pearl that now rests in that web, a touching tribute to the beloved spider that had spent so many years with you. Pearl herself was laid to rest in the forest, a serene place you visit often.

A young Melaina stood on his right, holding her pet scorpion as if it were a mere pup—the only reason she smiled for the portrait. Now a teenager, it’s a miracle if she smiles that brightly, preferring to don a cool mask instead. She’s just like her father in many ways.

Alora, your second born, had just turned three at the time. She was happy to clutch onto her father’s left arm, leaning into him, with the widest of toothy grins. Both of his wings were curled protectively around his favorite girls, a genuine smile of his own gracing his face.

It is a beautiful portrait, one that captures the magic and love in his little family well.

Azriel’s shadows begin to sing excitedly, the black cat curled up by his feet, lifting its head toward the door.

The door slams open, like it does every weekday at this hour. Mel walks in first, giving both him and you a nod in greeting. There’s a spark of mischief in those hazel eyes of hers but before either of you could question it, her shadows are wrapping around her and hiding her away from view as she runs to her room, still not having mastered winnowing. 

Teenagers.

Lor walks in next, hazel eyes bright and full of dreams. She’s mumbling and giggling to herself, making Azriel’s ears and shadows perk, straining to discern her words. She looks at Azriel first, then at you. “Mommy, Daddy,” she says in greeting, closing the door softly behind her and resting against it. She lets out a deep sigh.

“I’m in love.”

And there it was. That destruction of peace and quiet.

Azriel spits out his tea, choking on the curse he wanted to say but thought better against. His shadows are quick to run down his back in a soothing manner and you shoot him a look. The spellbook lands gently onto your coffee table, your full attention now on your daughter.

“That’s lovely, my pretty.” You tell her. “Who’s the lucky soul?”

“Lovely?” Azriel sputters, a small glare settling onto his features. He reluctantly accepted losing Mel to teenagehood, but Lor? Lor was eleven. She still had a year or two left. The mere thought of losing her too made his wings shudder.

“She’s just a girl!”

“She’s just a girl,” you repeat, tilting your head at him in further warning, that if Azriel wasn’t so worked up, he’d laugh at.

“I think he’s my boyfriend now. I invited him over for dinner!”

“Splendid!”

“No,” Azriel shakes his head. “Uninvite him.”

“Az, my love—“

The look he sends you has your words cutting off. You bring your hand to your mouth, covering up your grin, no doubt. There’s pure amusement dancing in your eyes. This moment was no different than the time Mel had her first crush.

Lor, oblivious or choosing to be oblivious to her father’s burning stare, runs to you with a squeal. She curls into your side and you smile fondly at her.  “I’ll make your favorite tonight, my pretty,” you say, running a hand through her long hair. “Tell me all about him.”

And though Lor’s favorite was his favorite, Azriel was suddenly dreading dinner.

He lets out a huff, standing from his seat. His shadows swarmed around him, mirroring his inner turmoil. He shoots you one last look– a look of utter betrayal–before leaving the room, unable to sit there and listen to his daughter talk about how someone else was vying for his little girl’s attention. 

Yet, a single shadow lingered in the living room...

**

Azriel knew this day would come, but that day was not going to be today.

It was similar to the way he felt when Mel first brought a boy home for dinner. But also different. Mel was strong-minded and had a well guarded heart. She had also been a couple of years older. Lor was naive and wore her heart on her sleeve. It was merely a week ago that she had come home crying from school because her classmate looked at her a certain way.

Love, crushes, heartbreak—they were all parts of growing up. Something you reminded Azriel as he helped you with dinner. He knew he had to let her experience them but boyfriends? Not now.

Lor was still too young. If it were up to him, there’d be a strict no boyfriend policy until both his daughters were in their second century.

Tonight, he would meet this boy, this intruder into his daughter's heart. He would be civil, for Lor's sake. Or at least try. He’d be watching the boy's every move, ready to step in at the slightest sign of trouble.

Azriel’s thoughts swirled as he chopped vegetables, his hands moving automatically while his mind wrestled with the reality of the situation. The protective father in him balked at the idea of her being hurt, her innocent heart broken by some boy who couldn’t possibly appreciate her.

A kiss on his cheek pulled him out of his thoughts, the knife in his hand coming to a stop. “You’re sulking, my love,” you said with slight humor in your tone, setting the knife down for him. You cupped his face in your hands, thumbs smoothing out the furrows of his brows. “Don’t worry, Az. She’s only eleven. I doubt this crush is anything serious.”

“But–”

“And if it is, we’ll simply have a talk with her.” You add as an afterthought, reassuring him that you were on his side.

“I love you, you know.”

You grin at him. “Well, that’s a relief. We have been mates for many years.”

**

Azriel watches with a slight frown as Lor literally buzzes with excitement, peeking through the windows of the dining room that face the street. Binx is seated on the window sill, his tail moving and reflecting his curiosity. You take the seat beside Azriel, saving the one beside Lor for your much-anticipated guest.

Mel is crouched on the floor, sprinkling a couple of crickets to feed her pet scorpion, Sprinkles. Her shadows still, wings tensing for a brief moment. She lifts her head, turning toward Lor. “He’s here,” she announces before excusing herself to wash her hands in the kitchen.

Azriel’s own shadows slither toward the door, following after Lor. He hadn’t heard the knock Mel did but he’s shifting in his seat nonetheless. Despite today being his day off, he chose to wear his fighting leathers for dinner, wanting to look every bit the menacing Spymaster he could be.

All seven of his cobalt siphons gleam proudly.

But then Lor walks into the dining room. Alone.

“Dad, Mom,” Azriel’s lips purse at the change of title, not liking the two letter drop from either of yours. She points to her side. “This is Jace.”

Azriel blinks. Once. Twice. His shadows flutter toward the spot Lor is gesturing at only to return to him with nothing. He looks at you. But you’re just as dumbfounded.

“Oh!” Lor giggles, eyes widening in realization. “I forgot to mention he’s a ghost.”

Even more confusion clouds Azriel’s features but that confusion slowly morphs into relief. He lets out a long breath—a chuckle almost. You place your hand onto his thigh, squeezing it in warning. “Just roll with it,” you murmur quietly to him, not wanting to upset Lor. The smile that forms on your face next is strained.

“Hi Jace. Have a seat please.”

Azriel says nothing, gaze narrowing at Lor. 'Jace' might be imaginary but it did little to ease his protective instincts. It was now the idea of his youngest daughter having a boyfriend that didn’t sit well with him. He has no intentions on being friendly to Jace, especially when Lor pulls back his seat for Jace to sit at.

The tension at the dining table was palpable. You were grateful when Mel returned, her presence breaking the uncomfortable silence.

But not in the way you hoped it would.

“Oh hey, Jace.” She greets casually, turning her toward his direction. There’s a gleam in her eye, as if she’s taking in the presence beside her younger sister.  “Nice shirt.”

Azriel feels another squeeze on his thigh but it’s different this time and followed by an awkward clearing throat sound from you. It had him tensing underneath your touch.

Azriel’s shadows could pick up on things others couldn’t but Mel? Mel could not only do the same with her shadows but she could also see things others couldn’t. Her first friend had been a ghost–the ghost of Rhysand’s little sister.

And now, it seemed that Lor’s first boyfriend was a ghost.

**

"That's it. She's breaking up with him now," Azriel murmured, shaking his head with a resolute finality.

The two of you had excused yourselves to the kitchen shortly after finishing dinner. A dinner that barely lasted half an hour, yet felt like an eternity with Azriel burning a hole into the chair beside Lor’s with his piercing gaze. She giggled at whatever Jace supposedly said and did most of the talking for him, with Mel chiming in occasionally.

 Azriel’s only comfort at the moment was that Mel remained in the dining room with Lor and Jace, knowing that if the ghost tried anything, Mel would happily take care of it. He looks at you, ready for you to disagree or offer a different solution. But you merely shake your head in agreement.

“Okay,” you breathe. “I’ll have Mel help me with a séance.”

“And I’ll talk to Lor.”

The plan was set then, the two of you walking back into the dining room. A stoic expression on Azriel’s face but a coy one on yours. 

Azriel clears his throat and you give his hand a squeeze in encouragement. “Lor, can we talk?”

“But–”

“Don’t worry, sweets. Mel and I will keep Jace company.”

Lor’s hazel eyes flickered between you and Azriel. She gave a soft sigh of defeat, mumbling something to Jace as she reluctantly followed Azriel into his study a couple of doors away. You waited until they were both out of view before turning your attention to Jace.

The chair he sat in slid backwards under your scrutiny.

Something hadn’t felt right about this entire situation. You didn’t have the same gift as Mel, but years of experience had left you with keen intuition and the ability to pick up on energies. When Mel started seeing Rhysand’s little sister, you had sensed that child-like energy.

But tonight, you felt nothing of the sort.

Your eyes landed on Mel, who remained seated at the dining table. Sprinkles was on her lap, and she ran a finger down the scorpion’s spine as she looked back at you. You raised an eyebrow at her and she did the same.

When you gave her that same scrutinizing gaze you had given the so called ghost, Mel caved in.

It was then that you saw it–a single shadow revealing itself as it crept up the arm of the chair Jace was ‘sitting’ in. It tugged the chair backwards again. The corner of Mel’s lips lifted into the faintest of smirks, a small chuckle slipping from her throat.

“You made up Jace, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.” Mel replies with a shrug of her shoulders. “Maybe, I like messing with dad. Maybe, I like messing with Lor…though, Jace did make Lor the coolest girl in school today…”

**

Meanwhile, Azriel led Lor into his study, his demeanor more composed than he felt. As his shadows closed the behind them, he took a moment to gather his thoughts, trying to find the right words...

“Daddy,” Lor began hesitantly, her voice soft but curious, “how did you know you were in love with Mommy?”

Azriel was taken aback by the question, his chest tightening at the return of his usual title. He hadn’t expected such a direct inquiry, but he welcomed it. He took a deep breath, his mind drifting back to the early days with you.

By the Mother, he had been such a fool in the beginning and he probably wasn’t the best at this. Something he would tell Lor once she was older–the same way he had told Mel when she had come to him for advice on similar matters.

“Well, it wasn’t something that happened overnight. I knew your mother was someone special to me the moment I met her. But it wasn’t until I got to know her better that I fell in love. It grew from the little moments we shared and the way she understood me.”

Lor tilted her head, absorbing his words. “She told me once that you were so brave you took an arrow for her.”

Azriel chuckled, surprised that you had shared that story. He wondered how much of your story you had told her already. “I did. I’d take many more for her.”

“Wow,” Lor whispered, her hazel eyes widening with the kind of wonder and admiration he adored seeing on her.

“I’d do the same for you too.” Azriel continued, shadows sweeping over her fondly. She giggled, squirming in her seat. “I’d do anything for my girls because I love you all."

"You see, love is a deep emotion. It’s difficult to explain as everyone can experience it differently. Sometimes, it can be overwhelming and complicated. But what I can tell you is that love is not just about excitement or attraction. It’s about truly caring for someone.”

Lor listened intently and Azriel could see her processing his words, the wheels turning as she considered her own feelings. After a moment of silence, she let out a sigh. “I don’t think I’m in love then. I mean, I like Jace, but I think I like him as a friend more.”

A wave of relief washed over Azriel and he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. “You’re still growing and learning about yourself. Love will come in time, but for now, you’re too young to have a boyfriend.”

Lor nods in understanding, surprising Azriel with just how easy this conversation had been. She sunk back into the velvet armchair, a hint of concern still etched onto her face. “But I’ll find love someday, right? Like you did with mommy?”

“Someday,” Azriel smiled at Lor, reaching out to ruffle the top of her hair. “Maybe when you’re two-hundred and fifty.”

Lor gasped incredulously. “Two hundred and fifty??”

“Hey, consider yourself lucky. I was five-hundred and thirty nine when I started dating your mother.”

Lor’s jaw dropped in astonishment. A shadow gently nudged it closed. She blinked up at him, her eyes still wide.

“Jiminy crickets, you’re old!”

Azriel’s smile dropped quicker than a potion bubbling over.

a/n: I could not for the live of me come up with a better simile for that ending lol so sorry it's kind of lame. I hope I was able to convey Azriel's inner turmoil well and that you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed the idea of it.

Mel is 6 years older than Lor. I honestly don't know how aging works for fae, like what's considered age appropriate but considering Az was messing around and underwent the bloodrite in his 20s, 17 is an okay age for Mel to have, had a boyfriend? Even if Az hated that too.

series tag list:@fxckmiup, @aria-chikage

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human, @mrsjna

[vexwerewolf]

I’m suddenly getting swathes of Lancer hate across my feed… Has something happened in the fandom? “Union is ______ how could they paint them as even remotely good. They allow _____, and I hate the devs they are ______. The whole thing is just 40k with communist veneer”.

Like am I taking crazy pills…? I thought that all of the problems were literally like right there on the tin “we are a utopia in progress! We will obtain it by any means possible even if it means being everything we say we are not/fighting against. As the player you decide what is right. How much will you ignore for someone else’s idea of utopia?” Like doesn’t it mean all the tools to actually change are there and that is the HOPE aspect of all of this?

(Sorry if this in incoherent grammar is a weak point and I pulled something in my back simply standing up. Now I am sad and crook backed in spasmodic pain)

This isn't an argument I feel super enthusiastic about stepping into, because it gets the most annoying sort of people in your mentions eager to maliciously misrepresent what you say.

However, yeah, there are some pretty terrible readings of Union floating around. I'd invoke "media literacy" because think that a lot of this comes from people not really holistically engaging with the fictional future history of Lancer, but also from a sort of dogmatic purism that requires future societies to be flawless, else they're irredeemable.

It is important to note that ThirdComm is the direct descendant of two highly imperfect societies. FirstComm was formed as a response to the Three Great Traumas of discovering the Massif Vaults (and thus that they were the inheritors of a fallen world), the wars over the Massif Vaults, and the discovery of the lost colonies, all of which collectively showed humanity how close it had come to total extinction.

FirstComm decided that it had a responsibility to ensure that humanity never risked extinction again. It manifested this by trying to colonize every habitable planet it could find, pumping out ship after ship to seed the cosmos with as much human life as it possibly could. This led to problems when it encountered civilizations like the Karrakin Federation and the Aun, who had been carrying humanity's torch just fine by themselves, thank you very much.

SecComm was an Anthrochauvinist fascist state. The book defines it thusly:

We can see a lot of Anthrochauvinist historical romanticism in the mech naming schemes of Harrison Armory, SSC and IPS-N - the fact that Harrison Armory names its mechs after great military leaders of pre-Fall Earth history, IPS-N does the same with naval figures, and SSC uses the names of Earth animals. Even the GMS Everest is named for a mountain on Earth. It's very Cradle-centric.

Anthrochauvinism was, to be clear, largely just an excuse for colonialism and hegemony. Atrocities could easily be justified under by stating that whoever they're being committed against were a threat to the Continuance of Humanity - a term that SecComm got to define.

It's also at this point that we have to zoom in from broad sociopolitical points to address one very specific piece of history: the New Prosperity Agreement. This was signed to prevent the outbreak of a Second Union-Karrakin War, and mandated that the Karrakin Houses would maintain privileged levels of autonomy within Union, and that they would be granted colonial rights to the entire Dawnline Shore. This agreement, struck in 3007u, basically defines much of the current political situation today.

ThirdComm was a final and inevitable reaction to the atrocities, abuses and excesses of SecComm. The unspeakable horrors of Hercynia were the spark, but I need to stress how little Hercynia actually mattered in the larger Revolution - at the start of NRfaW, it's explicitly stated that almost nobody in the galaxy even knows where it is, let alone what happened there. The Revolution was a generalized response to SecComm's tyranny, with no single rallying cry.

The Revolution might also have failed entirely, but for a critical error by Harrison Armory: pissing off the Karrakin Trade Baronies. After getting kicked off Cradle, the Anthrochauvinist Party organised a fleet at Ras Shamra to try and retake Cradle. Simultaneously, however, they were attempting to secure protectorate agreements to steal worlds in the Dawnline Shore out from under the KTB. Putting these two together and making five, the KTB assumed that the fleet was pointed at Karrakis, and started the First Interest War.

The First Interest War initially favoured the KTB. They smashed the fleet above Ras Shamra and simultaneously conquered the moon of Creighton in the Dawnline Shore. However, they underestimated just how ruthless Harrison I was - he "retook" Creighton by relativistic bombardment, and then conquered four of the 12 worlds of the Dawnline Shore with mechanised chassis, a technology the KTB had not adopted and had no counter for.

To prevent further loss of life, Union was eventually forced to broker a peace agreement that saw Harrison I handing himself over to Union justice in return for Harrison Armory's continued sovereignty, and the KTB joining Union as a full member state.

So, with that historical context out of the way, let me get to the second part of this absurd essay I'm writing.

Third Committee Union isn't a civilization that arose from whole cloth. It's shaped by five thousand years of Union history, six thousand years of post-Fall history, and six thousand years of pre-Fall history before that. It is, ultimately, an extremely well-thought-out and well-worldbuilt fictional polity, in that all of its imperfections come from traceable root causes in its history.

Why does ThirdComm permit the abuses of the KTB? Because to stop them, it would likely have to go to war, and such a war would butcher billions. Worse, to do so, it would probably have to ally with Harrison Armory and make horrific concessions.

Why does ThirdComm permit the expansionism and cryptochauvinism of the Armory? Because to stop them, it would likely have to go to war, and such a war would butcher billions. Worse, to do so, it would probably have to ally with the KTB and make horrific concessions.

Nobody in CentComm likes that Harrison Armory are empire-building expansionists. Nobody in CentComm likes that the KTB has a hereditary nobility and enforces blockades against planets that rebel against it. The problem is that ThirdComm is, in historical terms, still relatively new. They've been around five hundred years, and compared to the 1600 years that SecComm was around and the 2800 years FirstComm existed for, that's not very much.

ThirdComm is attempting to decouple itself from the Cradle-first politics of its predecessor, and to amend the many, many atrocities committed in the name of Humanity. It is not easy to do any of these things. SecComm was defined almost entirely by the fact that if it didn't like what you were doing, it would send in the military as a first response. Every time ThirdComm chooses to do the same, its legitimacy erodes, because the mission of ThirdComm is to prove that diverse, vibrant and compassionate human civilization can exist without devolving into war and bloodshed. ThirdComm always tries diplomacy as a first response because if it doesn't, millions of people could die.

[babywriter]

Imagine you have a girlfriend. Now imagine she drops out of college. No more big shot career for her, college was just too stressful. What do you do? You ask her “what’s the plan? What now?”. She says she doesn’t know. She doesn’t have anything lined up and she can’t think of anything. Can’t think of working at all, even. It gets to the point that she says she’d love to be a housewife. That’d be the life, she says. You tell her that being a housewife is work. There are chores to do. She says she understands. That’s how it started, you as the breadwinner, her as the housewife.

But then what happens when she doesn’t take care of the house? Goes out with friends instead? What happens when you’re the one also doing the cleaning and cooking? What’s the point of being with someone who’s acting like a child? You tell her she’s been acting like a little girl. She confesses, she’d love to be a little girl, do nothing she doesn't feel like. Alright, new arrangement. You do everything.

Obviously, she loves it at first. But you, kinky as you are, decide to also get some enjoyment of the situation. You do everything? Fine, but then you pick her clothes. Sillier and girlier than ever before. You make sure she watches Disney movies, sleeps with her stuffies. All very exciting stuff. For you, for her. Then, you decide to teach her a lesson as you didn’t actually expect her to enjoy this. She has to sleep in her own room. That’s the first big change. Then, you bring in the diapers. That, she did not enjoy. Calling you daddy is one thing, but using her diapers? Slowly, but surely, losing control over her own body?  Yet, she doesn’t even have the right to change her diapers. You have made her completely and utterly dependent on you for everything. And slowly, but surely, she learned to love it. Relying on daddy for everything and leaving her all the time in the world to look pretty and play. Now, imagine you have this adult baby girlfriend. Imagine the two of you are going out tonight to see some friends and that you’ve dressed her as in the picture above.

Imagine that it’s time to go and just as she was throwing a tantrum, she climbs on the chair and becomes dead silent. She turns her head and you imagine just how filled up her diaper will be by the time you arrive.

Photo credit: Diaperbrats.com

For more stories by me: https://reamstories.com/babywriter

[hinatiny]

akaashi who...

loves you attentively.

w.c: 0.4k

akaashi who pays attention and learns your habits. he notes what kind of things stress you out and has you to the verge of panic but also what brings you back down—he takes use of it as long as it’s within his ability so whenever the situation calls for it, he’s there to help you.

akaashi who almost always holds the side of your neck whenever you kiss. you don’t think of it as more than a gentle touch, not realizing he’s actually checking your pulse because he secretly loves to feel it speed up against his hand.

akaashi who loves watching you do your own passions more than he loves you watching his. he thinks you shine differently while doing something with every bit of your focus and enjoyment, almost like he’s getting to know a new side of you.

akaashi who, despite his calm and gentle nature, thrives on teasing you in the most subtle ways. even something as trivial as accidentally locking eyes across the room—he keeps the contact for a moment before suddenly showing you a small smirk, forced to stop himself from laughing when it clearly has you flustered.

akaashi who loves seeing you get along with his friends but pulls you aside when the crowd can get a bit too much, keeping you close to himself or letting you get an air breather until he’s sure you’re okay.

akaashi who tries to be lowkey about it but in reality can’t handle being away from you for too long. it doesn’t make him frustrated or stressed out, but he can get restless and finds himself dying to see you again a bit more than usual.

akaashi who can easily tell you’re nervous and somewhat flustered the first time you stay the night at his place. he feels bad for smiling about it, but he reassures that you don’t have to do anything and that you can have the bed alone if you want to. he loves having you near, but seeing you uncomfortable is out of question so he refuses going to sleep until making sure what you’re the most at ease with.

akaashi who brings you flowers when he comes over to visit you. it’s with the most nonchalant face, and you have to sometimes think if you’ve forgotten a specific date or event. but no, he just does it because he wants to.

[marvelsmylife]

Pleasing your high lord

Pairing: Rhysand x reader

Plot: after demanding Azriel to leave your room, Rhysand decides to have some fun with you while Feyre’s away visiting Vivian in the winter court.

a/n This is part two of my The Inner Circles Whore series. I know you guys already know what's going to happen between Azriel and the reader, but please comment below your theories. The next part will be about Cassian.

Inner Circles Whore Masterlist

Requests are open

Rhysand doesn’t typically lose his cool with the members of his inner circle. He actually sees himself as a level-headed male. That changes though when he’s deprived of sex for a prolonged period. 

Rhysand was on edge ever since Feyre decided to go to the winter court to visit Vivian with Mor. Since she wasn’t around, Rhysand decided he was going to pay you a visit so you could help him relax. The only problem was that Azriel was in your room any time he tried to pay you a visit.

Rhysand tried to be understanding at first. He knew it‘s been centuries since Azriel showed interest towards a female other than Mor, but he thought it was ridiculous that he was spending all of his free time in your room. He got so irritated by Azriel's constant presence in your room that he had to order Azriel out of the room, or else he would ban him from seeing you. Azriel knew Rhysand wasn't lying, so he left in a huff but promised he would return as soon as Rhysand was done.

The moment he was out the door, Rhysand stripped you both down and laid down on your bed with you settled between his legs. “He’s acting as if he was your mate,” Rhysand joked; his rough hands were glued to your hair, and watched as you sucked on his cock.

You hummed at Rhysand’s comment: “What can I say. I’m just that good,” you winked at your high lord.

“Yes, you are,” Rhysand agreed, thrusting up so you would take more of his cock in your mouth. “Gods, I’ve missed having your mouth around my cock. It’s been what? Four months?” Rhysand added on.

No one in the inner circle knew you were involved with Feyre and Rhysand on and off for the past three years. What was meant to be a one-night stand turned into a reoccurring situation. Feyre grew attached to you over time and begged Rhysand to have you move in with them. She even pitched the idea that you were hired to help them release some stress because that’s what you did to them; you helped them relax and helped them release some stress.

While Rhysand was apprehensive about you moving in because he didn’t want their friends to question them on how they knew you. Rhysand finally agreed to Feyre’s wishes and moved you in as soon as you could.

What they didn’t expect was for Azriel to get attached to you. Feyre would complain to Rhysand that Azriel was stealing you away. Rhysand had to remind her about your new role within their inner circle, and she had to share you. “I honestly can’t remember,” you replied honestly: “But I’ve missed you too. Azriel’s is cock is-”

“Don’t ever say another male's name or mention their cock while mine’s inside your mouth,” Rhysand’s growled. He grabbed your head and started to thrust roughly into your mouth. Rhysand felt himself getting turned on even more at the sound of you choking on his cock.

Rhysand continued his actions until you tapped his thigh to let him know it was getting too much for you. “Shit. I’m sorry y/n.” Rhysand apologized, a guilty expression on his face when he noticed tears running down your face: “I didn’t mean to be that rough.”

You found yourself laughing at Rhysand’s apology: “It’s ok. It’s just been a while since a male has been rough with me while I blow them.”

Jealousy started to spread throughout Rhysand at the thought of another male being rough with you. You sensed it, so you added: “I’m talking about you.” You started laughing again: “That night, Feyre requested to watch us and instructed you to do your worst to me. My throat was sore for a month.”

Memories from that night flooded Rhysand’s mind. He had fucked you in every position Feyre ordered and ended with all three of you tangled in your sheets. “How’s Feyre doing, by the way?” you asked while you sank onto his cock and started to ride him, “I haven’t had time to talk to her one on one since I moved in?”

“Cranky because she hasn’t been able to see you. She’s close to murdering Azriel because he’s spending so much time with you. So I suggest you talk to him before she follows through with murdering him.” Rhysand tried to play it off as a joke, but he had no doubt in his mind that Feyre would in fact, murder Azriel. You also knew Feyre would follow through with murdering Azriel, so you made a mental note to talk with Azriel.

You started riding Rhysand’s cock slower than you would normally do just to get a rise out of him, and it worked. The next thing you know, Rhysand had you on your back, with your hands pinned above your head while he thrusts into you relentlessly. “Slow down, I thought you wanted to go slow,” you tried to break out of Rhysand’s grasp, but he only held on tighter.

“No,” Rhysand huffed: “I’ve been on edge because I haven’t fucked either you or Feyre and days.”

All you could do was whimper out an ok at Rhysand’s explanation. You knew he needed this, so you allowed him to do whatever he wanted with your body. 

And boy, did he.

For the next several hours, Rhysand fucked you against every piece of furniture in your room. With you ultimately ending up on your bed. A tiny part of you felt like he was trying to get rid of Azriel’s scent from your room.

Your suspicion was confirmed when Rhysand panted: “Please let me know Azriel’s reaction when he smells what occurred here. I bet you that he’s going to throw a tantrum.”

“You’re such a dick,” you playfully shoved Rhysand off you and watched as he started getting dressed.

“I know I am, but that’s also what you love about me,” Rhysand teases: “I’ll be back tomorrow. Ok?” Rhysand leaned in and kissed you.

“If Azriel lets you,” you laughed but stopped when Rhysand wasn’t laughing: “Geez, I was kidding. Lighten up, Mr. high lord.”

Rhysand just shook his head: “I was being serious earlier. I don’t like how possessive Azriel is with you. Feyre doesn’t like it either,” Rhysand pressed his forehead against yours: “Let us know if he gets too much. We’ll handle it for you.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” you reassured Rhysand and kissed him before he made his way to your bedroom door.

When he opened the door, he spotted Azriel standing against the wall: “Were you here the entire time?”

Azriel didn’t reply. Instead, he pushed past Rhysand and entered your room: “Feyre is not going to like this,” Rhysand shook his head and returned to his own room.

@lilah-asteria @saltedcoffeescotch @golden-canyon @nayaniasworld @sleepylunarwolf @paankhaleyaar

[forellasket]

hi!! what about like a body swap w the jjk guys wouldnt that be fun. like a curse with a weird technique got to us and blah blah (you can wrote whoeverr but megumi would be nice <3)

JJK Boys React to:

Body Swap CT!!

MEGUMI—

ok first off i just wanna say that he would need a factory reset after realizing what happened

megumi would look at you, then down at himself, then back at you about a thousand times

it feels weird being in someone else’s skin, he would try not to let it show how uncomfortable he would feel

he really doesn’t know what to do with himself. it’s not even a matter of trying to respect your body since it’s his for the time being

he just loathes the feeling of invading it

that is…

until he notices that his— no, your body gets all hot and fluttery when he’s around you

it’s strange. why is he getting flustered by his own face? it’ll eventually click that it’s just your body’s instinct to get nervous around him

now he can only stand there and wonder what his body is doing to you

ITADORI—

oh boy.

my only words of wisdom in this situation are good luck.

right off the bat when he realizes he’s not in his own body anymore, he loses his shit

if you’re a woman, he 100% feels the need to touch his chest. having boobs is crazy

he’s known for being a reckless dude so when he’s running around in your body, expect to have several unknown bruises

i feel like he’d try to do shit he normally does and forget that he doesn’t have his usual heightened abilities and then whine when he hurts himself, or technically you

he’ll apologize profusely for the damage done, and start going on and on about how you can beat him up when you guys switch back

GOJO—

he’ll just flirt with you/himself the whole time. that’s it. he’ll compliment your beautiful new blue eyes or how tall you’ve become over night.

he’s makes those “looking in a mirror” jokes and thinks he’s the funniest person alive.

spoiler alert; he isn’t.

INUMAKI—

this time it’s your turn to fuck up

he literally speaks in ingredients, and you don’t.

straight off the bat you start freaking out and talking like you usually do and the poor people around you suffer for it

also inumaki, his throat is gonna hurt REAL bad

but now he’s embracing his inner american with the freedom of speech!! 🦅🇺🇸🔥

he abuses the fact that he can talk normally for once without drawbacks and he YAPS

all day

to anyone willing to listen

that’s not to say he isn’t still quiet though, you’ll strain yourself trying to hear him

he gets real sad when you guys swap back

NANAMI—

oh he’s so respectful about it.

keeps reassuring you all day that everything will be fine— although it’s a little awkward trying to comfort himself…

he’s definitely stiff as hell with everything he does, similar to megumi

bro goes into robot mode, and is so uncomfortable

literally doesn’t know how to take care of your body because anything and everything feels illegal

he can’t eat or drink because then he’ll have to go to the bathroom, and that’s an invasion of privacy

but he can’t let your body starve so then what

the man is stressed

he spends a lot of time silently panicking and trying to swap yall back

here lies nanami kento R.I.P 🪦

TODO—

this one is solely for shits and giggles.

if you’re not a tall woman with a big ass, he spends the whole time complaining. that’s it pt. 2

i’m so deadass he whines the whole time about how he misses his body and that this sucks and he’d much prefer he’d gotten to swap with takada

and blah blah blah

YUTA—

he’s so nervous

it feels wrong

he’s not worried about his body, just yours

he’s not worried about how he feels, just how you feel

he’s trying to make sure you’re okay, but it’s weird talking to you when you’re wearing his face

and vice versa

you can’t really feel comforted when you’re looking down at yourself having a panic attack

you two feed on each other’s nervous energies and eventually descend into madness

i feel bad for everyone who has to take care of you during this