#and i also got him within 11 pulls

[kara-knuckles]

Today marks three years since I started FGO, so I decided to roll three multis to celebrate. The first only brought two off-banner 4* CEs, the second was a complete min-roll, but the third...

That Fran spook tho. Would have been funny if I got three Morgans instead.

[taesanrot]

[soothe] taesan x f!reader | 1.9k words established relationship, body worshipper!taesan, office worker!taesan, fluff and mostly smut note. this is kinda new territory for meeee thank u to anon who requested this <333 i had fun writing this and imagining taesan as a little office worker

as a manager at his company, taesan typically had his plate full no matter what day it was. for some reason though, today was exceptionally taxing on him.

fingers typing away mindlessly at an email to his higher up, taesan couldn't help but daydream about ditching in the middle of his shift and driving home with the windows down, letting the wind mess up his hair. he thought about how nice it would be to come home to you.

taesan checked the time; it was only 11:30 in the morning. your work hours were a bit more flexible since you worked from home, you were probably showering and getting yourself ready to log in.

screwing his eyes shut, he shuddered at the way his mind wandered to you under the hot water.

you always turned the water a little too hot before stepping in, letting out a little yelp before fixing the temperature. he imagined the suds running down your shoulders and down the curves and ridges of your body, the thought almost making him throw his head back against his chair.

fuck.

taesan usually tried not to think of you at work, especially you showering or changing. it always got him so worked up and made waiting for the end of his work day even more unbearable.

chewing the inside of his cheek, taesan grabbed his phone and sent you a quick text message, a cute little picture of him at his desk.

you opened it within a minute and sent a picture back. taesan held his breath as he clicked the notification open. smiling softly, he took in the sight of you.

you were perched in your desk chair with your legs crossed, sipping a cup of coffee you probably just brewed in your shared kitchen.

taesan wished you knew what you did to him. while the thought of you drove him crazy and kept him all pent up, it also calmed him down and soothed his nerves like no drug ever could.

locking his phone and looking back at his work, taesan groaned. it was going to be a long afternoon.

[...]

pushing your glasses up your nose, you typed away at your desktop computer, sitting criss crossed in your desk chair. the last rays of the evening sun shone through the window of your and taesan's shared apartment.

yawning, you leaned back and stretched out your arms and shoulders, groaning slightly. your coffee from this morning was now cold, you decided to take a break and reheat the rest of it.

grabbing the mug and walking over to the kitchen, you placed it in the microwave and leant against the counter. as the microwaved beeped and your drink was warmed up, you heard the front door unlock and creak as it was pushed open.

you smiled and pulled your drink out of the microwave, waiting for your boyfriend to walk around the corner.

you heard a loud sigh and the sound of shoes and a bag hitting the ground and before you knew it, taesan appeared in front of you.

hair messy and tie loosened, the boy sighed in relief at the sight of you, the one he was waiting to come home to. he strided across the kitchen and into your arms, exhaling louding as he melted into you.

"i missed you." you blushed at how raspy your boyfriend sounded, the exhaustion evident in his tired voice.

taesan pressed his face in your neck, inhaling deeply and tightening his grip on you even more. your hands came up to rub circles along his spine, encouraged by the sounds of satisfaction that echoed into your skin.

after a minute, you attempted to pull away from him, remembering your coffee sitting on the table. taesan trapped you in his grip, molding himself to your body as if he was trying to bury himself under your skin.

"no" you laughed at his stubborn voice, calmly cooing at him.

"taesan, my coffe-" you were shushed by your clingy boyfriend as he walked the two of you over to the living room couch, keeping his arms wrapped around you the whole time.

"i'll make you some fresh coffee later." and with that, he sat down and pulled you onto his lap, moving your legs so they rested on either side of his.

finally face to face with him again, you smiled at taesan's pouty lips. you brought a hand up to smooth down some of his messy hair, smiling at the way he practically melted into your touch.

his hand came up to intertwine with yours and he pulled it to his lips, placing a wet kiss on the back of your hands.

the loud smack made you giggle and taesan moved to your face, loudly pecking your cheeks and forehead and nose. he even kissed your eyelids, further egging on your laughter.

after he was satisfied with teasing you, taesan sighed and leaned further back against the couch, pulling you with him so your head rested in the crook of his neck.

you sighed in delight as you breathed in the scent of him. practically feeling the exhaustion radiate off of his body, your hands moved to undo his tie and take off his jacket.

taesan remained motionless, smiling at the way you doted on him so sweetly. no matter how hard or long any day at work was, he always felt at peace knowing he'd come back to you.

you who'd take care of him without a second question. you know he'd do the exact same for you, that if you asked him he'd rub out every knot in your body or clean every inch of the apartment for you.

left in his dress pants and shirt, you undid the top two buttons to relieve the pressure around his neck before going back to your previous position. taesan's arms snaked around your waist, hands loosely resting on your hips, and his eyes fluttered shut.

taesan shivered as he felt you breathe against the shell of his ear.

"do you want me to rub your back?" you asked tenderly. taesan pondered the idea for a moment before shaking his head.

"mmm, just wanna lay here with you." you smiled and got up from his lap, pushing his shoulders lightly so he could move to lay down across the couch.

you grabbed a small throw blanket from the ottoman nearby. turning back to walk towards the couch, you laughed at taesan's pouty face, arms outstreched towards you.

"you're like a cat, sani" you giggled before joining him on the couch, draping the blanket over the two of you. taesan wrapped his arms around you. breathing in happily, you listened to the sound of his heart beating as his warmth encased you.

taesan's hand moved up and down your sides, trying to memorize every ridge of your body with his fingertips.

you inhaled slightly as his hand ghosted over your boob, opening your eyes to look at his.

"can i?" taesan asks softly, smiling when he watches you nod mindlessly.

taesan dragged a finger down the valley of your breasts, watching the way chest moves with your shallow breaths. his hand trailed further down the front of your body, twisting the hem of your shirt and waiting for you to move your arms so he can take it off. you moved your body up so he can pull the article off of you, now left in your bra and sweatpants. you laid down on top of him and while taesan loves the sight of your boobs squished against his chest, he needed to be on top of you.

your boyfriend flipped the two of you so he was now hovering over you. he bit his lip at the sight of you, looking up at him with your doe eyes. your tongue came out to lick your lips and taesan almost saw stars.

he brought a hand to massage the skin of your right breast, palming your nipple over the cup of your bra. you closed your eyes and tilted your head back as he lowered his head to kiss the skin between your breasts. taesan's mouth moved up your left boob, teeth grazing the skin as he sucked and licked to his desire.

his mouth was warm against you, making you arch your back and push your chest into him. he responded to his immediately, taking the opportunity to slip a hand under you and unhook your bra.

bra discarded on the floor, taesan cupped your right boob and massaged it slowly, tweaking your nipple slightly. he peppered kisses along your chest, stopping to take your nipple in his mouth. you moaned at the way his tongue swirled around the bud, his hot breath making you shake underneath him.

his hands traveled downward to squeeze your hips, holding you down as you squirmed underneath him. running a hand through his hair, you tugged it slightly before tapping his chin lightly. breathless, your boyfriend looked up at you curiously. he received an answer as you pulled him up to be face to face with you.

taesan could read you like a book, he knew you wanted to kiss him from the way your fingers traced his neck and jaw. bringing a hand to curl around your neck, he let his lips meet yours, melting against them softly. you were more than eager, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into you.

as taesan sucked your bottom lip and stuck his tongue into your mouth, you unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, tugging it slightly. you boyfriend chuckled above you, detached himself from your lips to pull his shirt off completely.

you sighed, finally being able to run your hands down his bare back. one hand moved into his hair to tug and massage his scalp as the other rubbed circles along his shoulders and spine. occasionally, you let your nails lightly scratch against his skin, just the way he liked it.

"that feels so good." taesan's voice rumbled into your skin as he rested his head on your chest, cheek pressed against the pulsing skin under which your heart was beating softly.

reaching back to pull the blanket back over the two of you, taesan snuggled into you, wrapping his arms around your torso and waist and basking under your attention. nothing soothed him the way you did, the feeling of your palms and fingers against his bare skin filling up the cracks of exhaustion and frustration within him.

your hands slowed their movements, and your boyfriend looked up from your chest to see you snuggled into the couch's armrest, eyes shut. the boy smiled at the sight of you, shifting upwards so he could lay his head on the armrest beside yours.

you stirred slightly, and taesan wrapped at arm around you to pull you into his chest. he felt his heart bloom as you sleepily hugged him closer to you.

the apartment was almost completely dark now, only lit up by the dull glow of your computer screen. pressing your head into the crook of his neck, taesan felt like the luckiest man ever, falling asleep to the slow sounds of your breathing.

[cressidagrey]

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 11

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings: 

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, Low Self Esteem, Burns, Discussion of suicidal thoughts (If this triggers you, PLEASE don't read it) and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

Azriel’s jaw was clenched and his fingers were trembling.

He was using all of his willpower to keep himself in check, forcing himself to keep still in his chair.

Every single instinct was screaming at him to get up, to reach out, to scoop Eira into his arms and get as far away from her sister as possible.

And he had to force himself to stay in his seat, reminding himself that Elain wasn’t a physical threat.

He felt his blood boiling at the sight of his mate in pain like this, every fibre of his being screaming at him to fix this. To take her as far away from her sister as he could.

His hands were still gripping hers, his shadows wrapped around her wrist like a comforting pressure. His eyes were trained on her, every inch of him attuned to his mate as she sat beside him, the sparks still dancing across her skin.

And it took all his control to keep himself from doing anything, to keep himself from just grabbing her and running and taking her somewhere far, far away from all of this.

No. He needed to stay calm, he reminded himself. He needed to control himself.

So he forced himself to sit there, his eyes still trained on Eira. He sat there, forcing himself to stay still, as his every instinct was screaming at him to do the opposite.

"I think we should retire," Rhys said carefully. "Emotions are running high."

Azriel heard his brother’s words, his eyes flickering over to him for a moment.

It was the understatement of the century. 

He could see the concern in Rhys’s eyes, even if the High Lord was doing a damn good job at hiding it. And he could see Nesta’s anger still churning in her eyes, even as she took a deep breath, restraining herself from outright yelling at her sister.

"I think that’s a good idea," Helion said, his eyes still on Eira.  "I'll have the kitchen send up lunch. We'll see you for dinner and dancing this evening?"

Azriel had the suspicion that they weren’t exactly going to partake in the dancing.

He had a feeling that they would be spending the evening locked in their rooms, wrapped up in each other’s arms and away from this mess.

He stood, pulling Eira up with him.

Eira didn’t resist as he pulled her up, her hand still gripped in his own, the sparks still dancing across her skin.

The others got up as well, chairs scraping against the floor as they stood, and a small part of Azriel couldn’t help but note the way that Elain still remained seated, her hands clenching into fists in her lap

For a moment, he considered just picking Eira up, hoisting her into his arms and carrying her out of the room. He wanted to, just so that she could rest and he could shield her from the world. He needed, to quiet the part of him that was demanding that he take her into the solitude of their room, where she would be safe from her sister.

He didn't. But he kept a hold of her hand as they silently made the trek back up to their room, the door closed behind them...and that was the moment as Eira broke apart.

As soon as the door was closed behind them, Eira’s expression crumpled.

That anger, that fury that had been boiling within her, seemed to break. Her shoulders sagged, and her body started shaking, her breath hitching as her mouth opened, a small, broken sound escaping her as tears began forming in her eyes once again.

The lightning disappeared. Instead, he could see the grief on every line of her face as he hauled her into his arms when he managed a few steps backwards so they could sit down on that ugly marigold sofa, while his mate cried her eyes out, curled against him.

He held her close, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

His hands were gentle as he stroked her hair, his hold tight and protective as he wrapped his wings around her, shielding her from the world.

He held her as she cried, the sound of her small, broken sobs echoing in his ears, and his hold on her tightened.

He held her close, murmuring wordless sounds of comfort into her hair, as his fingers continued slowly stroking her hair.

Every small, broken sob that left her tore through Azriel like a blade, piercing him in the heart. He hated the sound, hated the way that her body was shaking, hated how shattered she seemed, hated that he had to see her like this.

But he kept stroking her hair, he held her close, his wings still enveloping them both.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t know what to say, not as the sobs continued to wrack her body, as her body continued to tremble against him.

He held her close, murmuring words of comfort as she continued to cry, holding her tight like she might slip away if he dared to loosen his grip even by a little.

"I always wanted to be a mother. I would have loved our babies," she whispered.

His heart shattered.

His breath hitched, his entire body going stiff, as her words echoed in his ears.

She had spoken them quietly, her voice breaking as the words fell from her lips, and he could hear the grief and the anguish in her voice at her words.

He could feel his breath catch in his throat at the thought of their future children, their future family, that had been dashed before it had even had a chance to begin.

The image of that tiny little girl, with his eyes and her hair, with numerous freckles and delicate, fluttering, wings, flickered in front of his very eyes.

But the image shattered, the vision of what could have been disappearing as quickly as it had appeared, vanishing into nothing but air.

The thought hurt. It hurt imagining the family they could have had, imagining what their life together might have looked like, with their little children running around the house, their laughter echoing in his ears as their wings fluttered.

But that future was gone. It was gone, he knew, vanished into nothing but an empty void, never to be fulfilled. Not exactly like that. Not like it would have without Elain’s interference. 

Elain. Elain, who he used to think was kind, who he used to think was sweet and caring.

Elain, who had torn all their hopes for the future to pieces before they had even had a chance to take root, and who has broken his mate’s heart.

"We'll have babies," he whispered. "You'll be a mother."

It was a promise, it was an oath. 

It was everything he had ever wanted. 

They would have children. One day in the future, Eira would hold their children in her arms. 

He felt her breath hitch again as his words echoed in her ears, her body going still in his arms.

Her sobs had slowed down, her breathing still laboured and her body still shaking, but the sounds of her crying had at least mostly subsided.

But now, he felt her breath hitch as the words continued to hang in the air, a small shiver running through her entire frame.

"We will," he whispered, his voice firm and sure.

"And you'll be a wonderful mother," he continued, his heart breaking at the thought. "You'll be the best mother in the whole damn world, and I'll be right there beside you, every step of the way."

"We'll have those fat, rosy-cheeked babies you used to dream about," he whispered gently. "Little children with my eyes and your hair, with their laughter filling the entire house and their hands sticky with food, all over our clothes and our skin. But we'll still think they're the most wonderful thing in the entire world, and we'll love them unconditionally."

A small sob, almost a gasp, escaped her at his words, and her body began shaking again.

She was no longer crying, her previous tears no doubt having dried up, but her body was still trembling, with that grief and that anguish still thrumming through her system.

"She was so beautiful," Eira whispered.

Azriel’s breath caught again at her words.

He could see the image of their baby girl in his mind, so tiny and beautiful, her eyes so lovely, and his heart broke at the thought.

Grief and rage churned in his gut at the memory of that beautiful daughter, in that vision, that should never be.

"Of course she was," he whispered back, his own voice thick with emotion. "She would have looked like you."

His hands were gripping her now, holding her tightly.

His chest ached a deep, hollow ache where the beautiful future they should have had burned.

He had no words. Nothing that could even come close to making this better. Nothing that could erase the grief and anger that was churning through his veins at the thought of the beautiful little girl they would have had, the little family that they could have built, and how it had all been shattered before it could even begin.

The silence in the room was thick, only broken by the sound of her shaking breaths and his own heartbeat, as Azriel continued to hold her.

He kept his wings enveloping around her, keeping her safe within the semi-darkness, and his hands remained in her hair, the shadows still coiling around her in a comforting manner.

Finally, Eira pulled back and he lowered his wings...the others had given them privacy and had gone out on the balcony, though as soon as he lowered his wings, Rhys met his gaze as their family returned inside.

The sound of the door opening echoed in his ears, his eyes shifting from his mate to their friends as they stepped back inside the room.

Rhys met his eyes for a moment, a small flicker of sympathy in his friend’s expression as Azriel continued to hold his mate close.

"There is food laid out outside if you want any," Feyre broke the silence softly.

Azriel nodded, barely more than a dip of the head, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a small, grateful smile.

He had no appetite. The thought of food repulsed him now, especially since it didn’t feel like something he could handle keeping down. He could feel his stomach churning at the thought, an almost nausea churning through him, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to get anything down his throat even if he wanted to.

Eira rubbed over her face, wiping away her tears.

"If you don't want to come to tonight's dinner, you can stay here," Rhys said quietly. "Maybe it would even be for the best. Give everybody some time to calm down..."

Azriel felt a small wave of relief wash over him at Rhys’s words, and he felt his shoulders relax for a moment.

That was a good idea. That was a damn good idea, and he would not mind at all staying in the room for the night, with his mate by his side where no one would be able to hurt her. 

"You want to go?" he asked gently, reaching out with one hand to touch Eira's face and she shook her head, before she gasped, one hand shooting out to catch his hand.

Her face crumbled as she examined it and he stared down onto his own hand...the scarred skin...nearly charred in place. He hadn't even felt it.

His eyes widened slightly as he felt her grip on his hand. He had been so focused on her, on her tears and her anger, on her grief and her pain, that he hadn’t even noticed the burns that were now covering almost half of his hand and fingers.

His skin was blistered and raw, the flesh almost charred , and it was only now that she had pointed it out that he actually saw how bad it was.

"...I am so sorry," Eira whimpered. "I didn't want to...the lightning...I hit you..."

He had never seen such a look of anguish on her face, never seen her look so full of hurt and horror and remorse, and his heart broke all over again at the sight.

"You didn’t do anything, sweetheart," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "It was an accident, that’s all. Don’t worry about it, Eira,  it’s alright…"

"It's not alright," she disagreed, her voice broken. "How can you say that? I burned you!"

"It wasn’t your fault, love," he said, trying to infuse his voice with reassurance. "You didn’t do it on purpose, you didn’t mean to, it was just an accident. I’m fine, really."

The last thing his precious mate should be doing was apologising for something completely out of her control.

"Let me see," Cassian said calmly.

Azriel didn’t want to let go of Eira, didn’t want to pull his hand away from her, but Cassian seemed surprisingly determined.

So he carefully extricated his burned hand from his mate’s grip and held it out for the his brother to see.

"Does it hurt?" his brother asked with a grimace. He just shook his head. At least the numbness was good for something for once.

The numbness made the whole ordeal a lot less painful than it could have been, and as he looked at his burned hand, he honestly thought that it wasn’t all that bad.

He’d dealt with a whole lot worse over the centuries, a lot worse, and he had suffered so much pain in his life that this hardly even registered at this point.

He would rather go through the pain of more burns than not give Eira even just a modicum of comfort. 

"We'll put some burn cream on that and wrap it up," Cassian said easily, after turning Azriel’s hand over and looking at it. "He had worse, Eira," he promised his mate.

Eira was still watching his burned hand, her eyes filled with pain and guilt, and she was chewing on her bottom lip as she looked at the red, blistered flesh on his hand. She didn’t look at all consoled, and her expression was still filled with that guilt and that anguish, and he could practically see the thoughts running through her mind at the moment.

“I didn’t mean to,” she repeated weakly. 

"I know, sweetheart, I know," he said gently as gently as he could. "You didn’t mean to, and you were upset, completely understandably so. We know you didn’t want this, and there’s nothing to apologise for. You didn’t do anything wrong."

He wanted to take her hands into his, but his burned hand was still on display, so he settled for stroking her cheek instead.

"You did very well in controlling your lightning," Rhys said quietly. "I expected much worse, to be honest,” he admitted drily. 

Cassian just nodded in agreement. “You didn’t even torch any furniture!”

Azriel chuckled a little, the corner of his mouth tilting upwards in a weak smile.

It had been in the back of his mind as well. He had fully expected her powers to cause just a little bit more….destruction than just a slight singe to his skin.

"This isn't funny," Eira said, her voice breaking, even as the shadows appeared with wrapping and burn cream that they handed to her.

She snatched the wrapping and the burn cream from the shadows, and Azriel’s smile instantly vanished as he saw her expression.

She still looked tortured , still looked heartbroken.

"May...May I...." her voice was broken.

"Of course, Sweetheart," he said gently, his voice soft as he held his burned hand out towards her.

His heart clenched again, as she took his hand and began spreading the cream over his skin, her own fingers trembling slightly as she continued to work. Her touch was so gentle, so soft, and she was clearly trying her hardest not to hurt him any more than she had already done, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t feel it anyway. 

Her guilt was written all over her face. 

“It’s not funny,” Feyre agreed with a sigh. 

"I don't think anyone is pretending that what just happened was funny," Azriel said quietly, still watching as his mate tended to his burnt hand.

It wasn’t funny. None of what had happened with Elain was funny in the slightest. 

"We're just...surprised that you had as much control over your powers as you did," Rhys said quietly. "And impressed, honestly. It could have easily been much worse than a few burned fingers."

Azriel nodded. Somehow, miraculously, Eira had managed to control her powers even as that grief and that anger overwhelmed her. It was a testament to her strength, and to how much she did care about him and the others if she had managed to keep as much control over her powers as she had.

He knew she hadn’t lost control at all - she was clearly still completely aware of her actions, and he had seen it the moment that she had started to become more and more upset, she had stopped the lightning when she had burned his hand.

She stopped with the cream, wrapping his hand in the length of linen the shadows had brought her.

She was being incredibly careful as she carefully wrapped the linen around his hand, her touch so gentle and soft, as if she was afraid of hurting him.

Azriel smiled weakly at her, trying to send some sort of comfort her way, and as she finally tied the last knot, he lifted his now bandaged hand and squeezed her fingers gently.

"Thank you, Sweetheart," he said gently.

He wanted to add something more, to assure her once again that she had nothing to feel guilty over, but the words stuck in his throat, and he was unable to say anymore.

He just kept looking into her eyes, trying to tell her with simply his gaze that he didn’t blame her in the slightest for what had happened.

He could still see the guilt written all over her face, that grief and that pain still in her eyes, but he could also see the love, the care, as she looked at him, and he reached up with his uninjured hand to gently cup her cheek.

He hoped she was starting to feel better, starting to understand that he didn’t blame her for anything, that he didn’t care if she had accidentally burned his hand, that it was the least of his worries at the moment.

"Are you going to be alright if we leave you here?" Rhys asked, his eyes flickering to Eira.

Azriel tightened his grip on her fingers, hoping to comfort her, and she jerked her head in a nod, finally returning her attention to the others.

It was a jerky, weak movement, that shaky nod and his heart ached at the sight of it.

He hated seeing her like this — so fragile, so hurt, and every instinct in his body was screaming at him to just pull her into his arms and keep her there.

He had never been particularly good with words, not like Rhys or Cassian or Feyre — Hell, he couldn’t express his feelings at all most of the time and he wasn’t any good at comforting people either.

But right now all he wanted to do was just hold her, to be able to make her feel at least a little better after...after everything that had happened today.

His heart clenched again, at the memory of that beautiful image of the family they could have had, but he pushed the thought aside quickly, as he had done all day.

No, he would not think about what could have been.

Right now, he only wanted to focus on what was in front of him, here, with Eira.

***

She felt awful.

Every time she looked at Azriel's burned hand, the sight of the white bandage made her insides twist, a wave of nausea washing over her.

There was a horrible, heavy weight in her stomach, and guilt still choked her, no matter how much he tried to assure her that it was an accident, that it was not her fault.

It was her fault. She had hurt him. Even when she hadn't done it on purpose, she still had hurt him.

He was her mate. They were supposed to be each other’s rock, supposed to provide a comfort and a safe place for one another, and yet here she had burned him. Eira felt tears welling in her eyes again, the weight in her stomach almost crushing her.

Azriel didn’t blame her, tried to comfort her and tell her he wasn’t upset, that his burned hand didn’t bother him at all, but that just made her feel worse.

He had been hurt, he had been injured, and yet he didn’t care, and she just didn't understand why, she didn't get how he could just pretend like that didn't even matter.

"Eira, I don't even feel it," Azriel said quietly, as she fussed with the wrapping again. "My hands are pretty much numb on a good day.”

It were just the two of them, Rhys, Feyre, Cassian and Nesta down at whatever Dinner and Dancing thing Helion was throwing the night before Elain and Lucien’s wedding.

Just the two of them.

The shadows had procured a tray out of cheese, bread and cut meats for dinner, but neither had even looked at it yet.

She was still picking at the end of the wrapping she had tied around his hand, making sure that it was perfect, and she was not looking at him, too ashamed of herself to meet his eyes, knowing that if she looked at him she would probably burst into tears again.

Hearing his words, she felt a wave of pain hit her once more.

It was bad enough that she had hurt him, but to hear him say that he could barely even feel it…

"I am sorry," she apologised again, her voice weak. "I just got so...angry."

"You don’t have to keep apologising," he said gently, his voice still soft, as always.

She winced, still fiddling with the wrapping, still trying to make sure it was as perfect as she could possibly make it, even though she knew that he wasn’t even in pain, that the burn probably wasn’t even bothering him.

It hurt her just to think about it, knowing that he had suffered because of her…

“Eira, I’ll take a burned hand anyway if me holding your hand comforted you in any way,” he told her seriously. She swallowed. 

Master will be fine, the shadows whispered. It will be fine. 

She hoped it would be. She wished desperately it would be. 

She returned to sit down next to him, hesitantly holding his other hand, the one that she hadn’t burned and he squeezed hers in response, not for one moment seemingly hesitation to touch her, even when she had just shown him that she could hurt him. 

"Can I…Can I ask you a question?" Azriel asked her, his voice hesitant.

Her body froze for a moment. She didn’t look at him, still feeling too ashamed of herself to meet his gaze, but she just nodded.

"Of course," she responded. “What is it?”

"You said that you stuffed your ears with cotton wool for the better part of 2 years so you could sleep," Azriel said quietly.

Her fingers froze again, her heartbeat speeding up slightly, and she finally forced herself to look at him, her breaths getting a little shorter as he mentioned her sleeping habits.

She didn’t like having that particular topic brought up, didn’t like talking about the fact that she couldn’t sleep for months without muffling the world around her first.

It wasn’t a question, but she knew what he meant. 

"...I hear so much more now than I ever did as a human," Eira explained quietly. "The...adjustment period was difficult." That was an understatement.

"It must have been hard for you," he said softly.

She looked up at him. His expression was gentle as he looked at her, his eyes holding nothing but sympathy and care.

He didn’t look at all judgmental, he just looked concerned, like he wanted to know more, like he wanted to understand her, and it was that expression in his eyes, the care and the kindness, that made her heart clench.

"It's nothing," she waved him off, but Azriel kept hold of her hand.

"It's not nothing," Azriel disagreed. "Getting thrown into that cauldron was traumatic for you, Eira. It's alright if you aren't over it yet."

She shivered, the memory of being thrown into the cauldron rising up in her mind.

Pain, fire, darkness. She had been in a living nightmare, and as much as she had tried, as much as she had tried to forget about it, she could still feel it, could still feel that same pain as if she was right back in that cauldron all over again.

"I didn't adjust better than Elain or Nesta," Eira finally said quietly. "I didn't have visions. I didn't have death crawling under my skin. But I...the only reason I functioned was for them."

He squeezed her fingers gently as she spoke, listening to her quietly.

She kept going, the words pouring out of her like a waterfall as she spoke.

"I couldn't just...sit around all day and be, I had to be doing something, I had to be helping, I had to keep going because that's all I had," she said shakily, her breaths getting faster. "It felt like I was going out of my mind all the time, I needed to be useful, I needed to do something. If I didn't...if I didn't...then I...."

"What happened then?" Azriel asked quietly.

Her breathing was speeding up now, that awful twisting feeling in her stomach coming back in full force, as she thought about those months just after being made.

"It was bad," she whispered. "It was bad. Everything seemed like too much and not enough at the same time. It didn't matter, what I wore, it felt like sandpaper against my skin. Everything was too loud. Every food was too much. Everything was..." she trailed off.

"Overwhelming?" Azriel offered gently.

She just nodded at his words.

It had been overwhelming, every single damn thing overloading her senses, every sound, every sight, every taste, every single emotion.

She couldn't shut it all out, couldn't block everything away until it stopped hurting, and that had been the worst part.

"I hid underneath the bed. Or in the bathing chamber. Or in the closet," she admitted ashamedly. "Everywhere where it was small and dark and quiet. And then I sat down and I rocked back and forth like a child and hummed so I didn't need to hear anything else. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to exist. I wanted to crawl into a hole and..."

She stopped, her words choking off, but she knew that Azrael could guess what she had wanted to say.

He knew that she had wanted to die, in those dark moments after she had been made, she had wanted to just crawl into a hole and let the world forget about her, she had wanted to just disappear and never come back.

"I didn't want to be Fae," she said weakly. "I...I wanted to be human. I didn't want pointy ears or immeasurable power. I wanted a husband and children."

That was exactly what she had wanted — a husband, children, and a normal, peaceful life, without power and magic and a strange, immortal body.

But what she wanted didn’t matter, it never had mattered, and she had been made into a Fae anyway.

Everything she had wanted, all the dreams and wishes she had had as a humanity, had all been snatched away from her the moment she had been thrown into the cauldron.

Just gone, just taken, and there was nothing she could do to get it back.

"You wanted to have a normal life," he said quietly.

She shrugged. 

“I thought that was all I could have,” she responded weakly.  "I always thought I wanted a normal husband. And then...then you walked into that dining room and suddenly all I wanted was this handsome man with wings sprouting out of his back."

A small smile tugged at his lips at her words.

He didn’t say anything, just watched her with a small, affectionate smile, and his gaze was gentle as he looked at her as if he understood everything she was feeling just by holding her like this.

"Is it better now?" he asked her quietly.

She shrugged. "I don't want to throw myself from the balcony any longer or cut off my ears, so yes," she admitted weakly.

He let out a quiet exhale at her words, and she could feel the slight tension in his muscles as if just the thought of her hurting herself was hurting him.

Without saying anything, he pulled her close, wrapping both his arms around her and holding her against his chest.

"You wanted to do that." It wasn't a question. 

She could feel the tension in his muscles as he said that, and she buried her face into his chest.

"I know it's ridiculous," she whispered. "All of you have survived so much worse and there was I and I just...but I didn't want this. I never wanted to fight, to be a warrior..."

He closed his eyes, resting their foreheads together and his lips brushed over hers in a soft, aching kiss.

"It's not ridiculous," he told her quietly.

He wrapped his arms around her tighter as she spoke, one of his hands running through her hair as if trying to soothe her.

"You were forced into a world you never wanted," he said, his voice soft. "You didn’t ask for any of this."

"I tried to find the positive. I tried to...At the start, I told myself that...I couldn't have you as a human, but maybe as a fae...That maybe that was the reason why the cauldron hadn't outright murdered me,” she admitted weakly. 

"Gods, Sweetheart," he grounded out. "I am so sorry."

"It’s not your fault," she whispered, her voice shaky as she buried her face in his chest again.

She hated feeling like this — vulnerable and weak, and for what? Because being made into a fae had hurt her feelings? It all seemed so damn stupid.

He just shook his head, his arms tightening around her again.

She felt safe in his arms like nothing could hurt her here, and a part of her wished she could stay right here, tucked away in his embrace, for the rest of eternity.

"And what did you tell yourself when you thought it was never going to happen between us?" he asked her weakly. "What did you tell yourself then, Eira?"

"Feyre had enough other things to worry about, I didn't want to add to that," she admitted weakly. "I didn't want to hurt her. Hurt Nesta or Elain."

His hand froze in her hair, and she could hear him taking a slow, measured breath as if he were trying to keep himself calm.

He didn't say anything, just sat there holding her, and she could feel the muscles in his arms, still wrapped around her, tensing up, as if he was refraining himself from holding her even tighter.

"I wasn't really gonna do it," she said weakly. "I didn't want to bother anybody just because I couldn’t adjust. And it did get better. I still have bad days, but it's not as bad as it used to be."

He kept his eyes closed, burying his face in her hair as he just held her. She could feel his body shaking against her, if only very weakly, and his breaths were shaky and uneven, and guilt flared up in her chest again.

"I am sorry," she apologised. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Gods, Eira," Azriel said, his voice like gravel. "My mate just told me that she thought that throwing herself off a balcony or cutting off her ears seemed like a fucking solution at one point, and you are apologising for hurting me?" he asked her, shaking his head as he looked at her. 

“I could have lost you before I even…before I even got to have this with you,” he said, his voice broken, cupping his cheek, resting his forehead against hers. 

"I wouldn't have done it," she said weakly.

"You don't have to apologise for anything," Azriel said, his voice still a wreck as he spoke.

He tightened his arms around her again, holding her so tight against his chest that it was almost painful.

"You didn’t do anything wrong," he said softly. "You didn’t have a choice, and I...gods, Eira. I am so, so sorry. I am so sorry that I wasn’t there for you, that I didn't notice you."

The raw emotion in his voice made her chest ache, and a lump rose in her throat.

She didn’t want him to feel guilty for any of this, but the way he spoke, the way he held her so tightly like he was scared she would disappear the moment he let go...there was no doubt that he blamed himself.

"...It's not you're fault," she whispered, finally bringing her own arms up to wrap around him, holding onto him just as tightly.

He just shook his head, refusing to listen to her, pulling her as close to him as he possibly could, his hands shaking from how tightly he was holding her as if he was scared that she would disappear the moment he let go of her.

"I am sorry," he murmured, his voice just a broken whisper, his arms tight around her.

She could feel him shaking against her, his breaths still unsteady, and the only thing she wanted to do right now was to take away his pain, to give him some sort of comfort, but she didn't even know how she was supposed to do that.

"Azriel," she said quietly, reaching up with a hand to cup his cheek.

He closed his eyes, letting out a long, shaky exhale as she touched him, and she gently turned his face so he was looking at her again, and the aching grief and guilt in his eyes made her chest ache.

"I am better now," she promised him. "I will not do any of these things. I swear."

He let out another shaky exhale, his eyes finally opening again. "You won't," he said firmly, not a question, but a statement.

He moved a hand, gently cradling her face in his palm as he looked at her. Her skin tingled where he touched her, and she leaned into his touch almost involuntarily.

"Promise me," he said gently, his voice aching. "Promise me that you won't do anything to hurt yourself."

He held her gaze as he spoke, his eyes shining with a strange, fierce desperation, and she couldn't even dream of refusing him as he looked at her like that.

"...I promise," she whispered.

His expression eased slightly at her words, and he let out a long, shaky exhale, burying his face back in her hair again, still holding her tight against him.

"I am better now," she promised. "I have bad days, but I don't want to do any of this anymore."

"The next time you have a bad day, you come to me. Or to somebody else. You'll tell us," he demanded quietly.

She closed her eyes, burrowing her face in his chest again, unable to look at the almost desperate expression in his eyes.

She should have expected that he would demand something like this, would demand of her that she wouldn't just...keep everything to herself, that she wouldn't just try to deal with it alone, but the fact that he was begging her, that he was almost pleading with her like this…

"Only if you do the same," she whispered.

He paused for a moment, just holding her against him again, and she could feel the tension in his muscles, still wrapped around her, still so close and tight. He was silent for several long moments, almost long enough to make her think he would refuse, and then he finally spoke.

"...Alright," he whispered. "I promise I will."

[itoshi-s]

Bllk boys ranking though NNN also i lost bc of ur fics

PLSSSS nonnie im so sorry i made u lose !!! 😭 m happy u enjoyed it so much tho ajfhalkf now let me brainrot over how needy the bllk boys would be during the month of november !

ʜᴏᴡ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ɴɴɴ !

ft: rin, sae, bachira, isagi, ryusei, reo, nagi, aiku, chigiri, kunigami, kaiser, & barou !

cw: nsfw (minors -17 dni!), characters are 18+, fem reader, mentions of rough sex, the boys being switchy, edging, mutual masturbation, sex toys, cannabis !

12. rin - doesn't participate ! ─── yep :( as a rinnie stan myself i know it's disappointing LMAO but he just knows it's unhealthy 😭 and he takes care of himself and his body so much, there's no way. cannot be bothered to take part in such challenges anyway,, they were childish to him at 16 yet alone when he's older sfkfal also is so busy, he'd be a fool to let go of any chance to touch you !!

11. bachira - a day ! ─── no. 1 needy baby ! isn't completely against the idea, actually even tells you he might try it out once you mention it - but he truly forgets all about it as soon as he comes come several hours later .. and sees you looking soooo good. pounces on you within seconds <3 also has an impressive refractory period & stamina too ! can keep going for hours on end and stuff u so full.... it just doesn't end ! he cums for the first time so quick and loses the challenge embarrassingly early but he makes it up to you so well <3

more under the cut !

10. barou - three days ! ─── agrees to your pretty pleading eyes - you want the both of you to try it out so that once the month ends, all hell can break loose ! you know shoei so well, how rough he is on the daily - the thought of him going even further, all desperate and frustrated, makes you giddier than ever. it's of course such a dumb idea to him, but since you're asking him so nicely, he might as well agree..... yeah it only lasts the few days bc he's away on a game and just isn't there to see you and touch you :/ as soon as he's through the front door you can nearly scent the pheromones on him. fucks u into the mattress so hard you're scared of how rough he could be after a whole month !

9. nagi - five days ! ─── he's all about the slow and lazy loving and rarely ever initiates something himself ((you're more than happy to take control though bc just think...... blowing him under the desk while he's gaming???? yeah think bout it)) so you're not at all surprised when he mumbles something about taking part in a challenge the guys talked abt in the group chat . nagi can be a menace with how lazy he is sometimes so you have your toys in handy anyway akfjhsa BUT you honestly would've thought he could last longer ! he might not show his desperation all that often or openly but he definitely is needy <3 ruts into you in your sleep not even a week in. as you wake him and try to scold him playfully , he just pulls you closer with a groan . "'s a pain already," he huffs, "help me out?"

8. isagi - a week and a half ! ─── takes it as a joke at first but figures that it might be fun, actually, and tries it out in the end . he's got very good self control too so is curious how well it'll work when it comes to you and his needs !! it's going pretty smoothly considering how tight his practice schedule is before his next match, BUT it all goes down the drain after said game .. comes back absolutely pumped and high on the goals he scored , on the way he absolutely devoured the other team and controlled the whole field - there's no other way to unwind than to take it out on u <3 it's the only way he knows ! is so loud once he finally takes u & makes u praise him so much ! loves to hear he's your best boy n how good he is to u <3 praise kink yoichi goes brr (yes i am still thinking about the thirst moshi ((@/saetoshis)) did !! its canon i confirm)

7. kunigami - two weeks ! ─── he wasn't rly going to take part when he first read about it in the gc but once he mentions it to you and it turns out you're actually excited abt the thought .. he just might take it up akfhf doesn't actually find it all that difficult and only ever realizes that actually you might be the one taking the hit when you openly start begging for him :( comes home to find u on the bed, teary eyed and overstimulated bc it's just been so long , and masturbation isn't all that exciting anymore ever since u have him . please ren, just drop it already. finds the look on ur face so amusing , you're so miffed as if it wasn't your idea in the first place ! quickly wipes the frown off your pretty features and replaces it with crossed eyes and lolled out tongue tho <3

6. reo - two and a half weeks ! ─── you make him do it <3 and the thought is far too thrilling for him to refuse. also...... he's a switch leaning sub anyway so :( does he even have any word in it? no not really. one look from u is all it takes to make him melt ! it drives you insane to see how he just gives a slight whine or a sigh in the mornings, hard cock straining against his boxers but he's such a good boy - of course he listens and doesn't touch himself <3 just gets up and goes on with his day , knowing better. has this haze over his mind and it shows by his glossy eyes or warm hands that start to roam around your body more frequently . you only ever let him drop it when he's nearly in tears ,, it just hurts !!!!! he cannot keep focus on practice or workouts anymore :( the ache in his tummy and boxers too overwhelming. wraps his arms around you from behind as you cook dinner for u two - sturdy chest pressing all against you, hands grabbing at your waist and there's a shaky breath by your ear. please, please i can't take this anymore. you're not that cruel, and end up praising him for being such a good boy for u for the past weeks <3

4. sae - three weeks ! ─── gets annoyed with the way you keep teasing him, even when he comes home from the longest day of practice ever, and thinks that it might actually be the perfect time to teach you a lesson ! tbh sae strikes me as a dom BUT with solid switch tendencies so !! he actually starts to regret his decision like a week and a half in lol. doesn't let it show at all though and keeps his cool,, knowing that it's exactly how to rile you up <3 giving you such humdrum looks it makes you week in the knees. it's until he sees you come out of the shower, a pretty little vibe in hand, cheeks flushed and eyes lidded when he realizes he might not have the upper hand anymore :( knows that he can keep control of his needs if he has to, but it just gets so fucking annoying, even more so when he knows he's the one that came up with it in the first place. is beyond thankful when u unexpectedly finally BEG HIM to just feel him,, and takes you right here in the moment. puts u in a mating press and fucks you silly only to flip you over and make you ride him as the prettiest little sound start to slip out. ngh- yeah, make m'cum, pretty girl. can't think straight no more. ( > ///////////// < ) cums embarrassingly fast like this as well ...... like just a minute or two of you riding him and grabbing at his shoulders or biceps and he's whining so loud. pretty baby is so flustered tho !!!

4. chigiri - three weeks ! ─── PLEASE he's such a tease ! takes up on the challenge when he hears the boys mention it and is kind enough to give you a heads up . is definitelyyyy one of the biggest menaces of them all tho with the way he riles u up so much. knows that the way he brings his hair up into a loose ponytail instantly makes u think of how he does it whenever he's about to eat you out - so he does it right in front of ur eyes, hairtie in his teeth and giving you a sly look ! makes plans with you so that you just have to go to practice with him first,, otherwise you won't make it on time - because he knows how much it turns you on to see him in the zone <3 thinks that he has it all in control until you crawl between his spread legs and give him the prettiest begging eyes, hands already palming at the sturdy muscle of his thighs, threatening to move higher - right where he now feels the dull ache and strain against his shorts. this is unfair, hyo. haven't i been good to you? isn't all that much of a hard dom,, but definitely makes you feel it how it wasn't worth spurring him on :((

3. aiku - three and a half weeks ! ─── same thing that happened with barou,, but this man has much better self control ! it gets him INSANELY hard and fucking insane to think of how you'll be dripping by the very end of this month , pleading him to finally fill you up. doesn't let you touch yourself either, though </3 so that's what it makes it even more fucked up ! he's the one to convince you to it - has to give a little push bc you're just so needy, the thought alone is enough to make your head spin - but knows that you're actually a lil excited yourself when he sees the glint in your eyes ! doesn't try to tease you all that much but pleaseeeeee have u seen this man .. he doesn't even need to try and he gets you SOAKING ! might just bust a nut himself everytime he thinks of how good it'll feel to finally have you once the month's finished. all of his plans go to waste when you end up watching a movie and smoking a blunt together tho ...... it's ridiculous how you're on top of him within SECONDS after the few first hits kjafhaskfh the weed makes you hazy too you end up going for hourssss on end :( in the morning you're smacking him in the head for even giving u the idea to smoke when you both know how horny u two get afterwards ,, maybe it was his unconscious horny self making the decision tho afhakhsaf

1. ryusei - the whole month ! ─── PLSSSS he's so deranged afafalasfa he LOVES edging the both of u. makes sure u know what's about to come days before november even starts lol and makes good use of it,, you don't even have the energy to think about fucking for the first few days of nov when he's railed u so good minutes before midnight hit 😭 is such a tease during the whole month ! would straight up edge you and bring you right up to your high, only to pull away at the very last second and leave you crying so pretty :( is mean about it, but knows it'll be worth it in the end ! looooves mutual masturbation - thinks that he just might fail when he sees u spread out in front of him, panting and moaning so sweetly, BUT ofc he doesn't let neither of you come . scares you with the way he grabs you so rough and fucks you on the literal floor as soon as the date changes to december :0 pls he's so funny i can see him checking the clock both before it starts & ends gives you the absolute best fuck you've ever had your whole life ,, you need to call in sick the next day bc your cervix is so bruised and gives you cramps :(

1. kaiser - the whole month ! ─── does it just to prove a point. you're a brat to him anyway,, so he's sure you can take matters into your own hands for just a month! (it's not like he absolutely adores the iittle attitude of yours and is the one that always spurs you on even further! definitely not ! </3) considering the world cup is coming soon, he's away most of the days anyways, but usually he'd take care of you as soon as he comes back .. this time he only gives you a good night kiss and pulls you close :( no action whatsoever ! as if you didn't exist to him in any sexual form. also doesn't let you touch him even once either - he despises any distractions after all! it makes you want to cry with desperation cause your own touch just isn't enough - it's a whole other experience to have him manhandling u around and making u do the work to please him ! he takes you to the world cup with him as well,, since he doesn't want u to be lonely ((and actually wants u there with him </3)) so you're extremely fucked . seeing him absolutely trashed and exhausted after a match ?? watching from the first row stands as he absolutely demolishes the field ?? he couldn't get any hotter than he is during the games and u know it :( you end up nearly crying when he finally allows you to touch him , thank him thru the tears and he makes you come in like mere minutes :( won't ever admit that this is the hardest he's ever been lmaoo

© itoshi-s. do not plagiarize, repost as your own or mention on other sm platforms.

[lizzy019]

𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 𝑅𝑜𝓁𝓁?

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Plus-size Fem!Reader

cw -> insecurities, tough-love, oral (sixty nine), but a sweet ending :)

Word Count -> 1.4K

As a plus-size girlie, I genuinely wish I could get this, but no man likes a girl with stomach fat and it’s KILLING MEEE

This blasted mirror, you thought to yourself.

Hands scooping up your protruding apron belly with a sad expression, you look at yourself disapprovingly in the mirror as tears well up in your eyes.

Ugly, ugly, ugly! Your mind chanted in disregard of your mental health.

You didn’t care if people said, “Oh, but you have boobs!” or “Oh, but you have a full ass!” It wasn't about that anymore, you just wanted to feel pretty again. Like that young teenager who had no care for their looks, just getting good grades in school to finally have that dream job.

Now your job has you cooped up in your home all day, stress eating until you feel guilty and crying about it. It was pathetic.

You were pathetic.

Sniffles escaped you as you hid yourself in the baggiest clothing you had, frowning when you could still see the fat in your arms and the face fat that made you look old.

A knock at the apartment’s front door had you quickly wiping your tears in a hurry, trying to fix your breaths as you exited your room to go see who it was.

Opening the door to the apartment, you’re met with the familiar white skull mask and stocky body that you’d swooned over the first time you saw him.

“Simon!” You smiled, gently hugging him and allowing him inside. After months, he was safe and back home.

“Hey, luv. You gained weight?” He responded, dropping his duffel bag and eyeing you closely.

You winced at those words.

“Are you high or somethin’? Why’re your eyes all red and puffy?” He asked.

This had you freeze up, giving a nervous chuckle as you played with the hem of your sweatshirt.

“No no, I’m not high, I promise. Just tired.” You lied as smooth as you could, gesturing to the kitchen for him to go and get food.

Even if Ghost could tell you were lying from the way your body language was all closed off, he didn’t wanna dig and hurt you. So he just trudged to the kitchen for food and let you be.

The rest of your evening was spent in the bathroom, eyeing the laxatives you bought to thin yourself out with skepticism. While you wanted to take them, you didn’t know how they’d make your system react.

A waste of money, you thought to yourself.

But working out was a waste of time when bills had to be paid and the house needed cleaning, or family needed help, or groceries had to be done.

It was all too much, and you found yourself silently beginning to sob again.

Hands holding the disgusting fat at your abdomen, you curled up on the tiled floors and weeped. How could Simon deal with you? How could he want to be proud of you? Was he lying? Pitying you?

Ghost could hear the sounds from the living room, but he paid no mind to it. You never handled crying in front of others well anyway.

11:30 at night, Simon stripped bare in front of you as you hesitated strongly to take off your own clothing.

You felt bad for so many reasons, the two most severe ones being that you were scared he’d judge you and make cruel jokes about the pounds you’d gained, but also not taking your clothes off and making him upset or frustrated.

Ghost’s hands didn’t even let you choose, your shirt came off within a few seconds and so did your pants and panties.

Mortification crossed you instantly, and you wished you could run back into the bathroom, lock yourself away and rot. It’s the only thing you could do better than stuffing your face full of food.

Ghost got into position, and you felt awful when he got on top of you instead of you usually getting on top of him.

Flimsy cock at your mouth, you gently put it into your lips and began to work on what he’d pleaded for upon return. His own mouth attached itself to your core, but you weren’t wet. You couldn't focus on enjoying the pleasure when everything else was pulling you away from it.

Regardless, everything kept going, even your mortification which refused to leave. You were just too self-conscious, too fearful of his true reaction and anxiety creeping up because he hasn't said anything about it yet.

Once Ghost was good and hard, he moved once again into a missionary position and grabbed some lube and a condom, rolling the latex on first before lubing up your entrance. His tip pressed your core before a sharp thrust was executed.

Only a soft whimper exited you from it, and this really gave Ghost the sign that something was up.

“Luv, what the fuck is up with you t’day? You’re actin’ all reticent and timid for no goddamn reason. Or is there a reason that you’re just not informin’ me of?” He asked harshly, his expression not visible through the dark fabric covering his face.

His question made you think hard. Should you tell him? Would he laugh at you? Simon wasn't exactly an understanding person, and he never comforted anyone properly. With a shaky sigh, you shrugged.

“You said it yourself earlier, I gained weight. I tried not to, but I don’t have time anymore to be physically active asides small walks, it’s pissing me off and I understand if you think it’s not as attractive anymore-”

“Who the fuck told you that I said somethin’ as stupid and jacked up as that? Holy shit, is that all you were pissin’ yourself over? A few extra pounds?” He almost raised his voice, almost.

Reluctantly, you nodded your head and winced a bit.

He sighed heavily, his hands coming to pin down your wrists as he gently kissed your cheek. You were confused, what was happening here?

“Luv, you don’t gotta worry about my preference on your body. You’re you, you took me in and loved me in a way no one else chose to, I’m not in it for your body, I’m in it for you.”

This made your eyes water out joyful tears, this wasn’t something you heard on a regular basis, much less from someone who was way out of your league.

You gave a soft nod, and this made him fully begin to thrust into your core. That was what made you erupt in little moans, you just needed to be properly consoled.

Simon however, was going absolutely feral for the little jiggle in your tummy, the bouncing of your breasts, and the way your thighs happily squished against the mattress’ fabric.

“Yeah, that’s my good girl. Takin’ it so well, you like it? You like how my cock’s stretching this tight lil’ cunt open? Yeah, yeah you do.” He smiled softly under his mask, lightly degrading you with praise built in as he answered for you.

You were too blissed out to have even heard it.

A climax was nearing, and he moved himself into a mating press to violently assault your dripping cunt while pinning your soft body down against his.

“Simon! Gonna cum..!” You mewled out, hands clasping his shoulders before you finally spasmed and seized just to release all over his hard length.

This alone had him gasping for air, his thrusts heavy and desperate as he kissed all down your neck, sucking the skin to make hickies, before he couldn't continue it anymore.

“Fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming- shit!” He moaned out, ceasing all movements to fully release into the condom.

Huffs were the only thing you two heard for a good few moments, taking off his mask in totality to show his full submission to your trust.

Those pretty brown eyes and blonde lashes, lovely scarred cheeks and little amount of blonde stubble on his jaw and chin. Chapped lips and pinky nose. He was handsome, you felt like he could get any woman if he tried.

“Stupid British.” You teased, kissing his lips innocently before you two moved to get under the blankets to rest.

Ghost’s hands came to rub the pudge of your stomach, eyes soft as he looked at it with adoration.

“You’re like a cinnamon roll.” He murmured.

“Cinnamon roll?!” You exclaimed, laughing and kissing his cheek. “You goof.”

Ghost chuckled dryly, kissing your forehead before pulling the blanket to cover your shoulders to stay warm.

“Sleep well, cinnabon.”

[xe-n4]

slow starts

feat. sae note: i just needed some fluff (life is so hard 😢), unedited contains: fluff, possibly ooc total: 727

Before you opened your eyes, you felt his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Sae laced his fingers with yours and rubbed the back of your hand.

“Mornin’,” he said in his raspy morning voice.

“Shut up,” you groaned. Slowly opening an eye, the sun-illuminated curtains flooded your vision and brightened your bedroom. Mild irritation built within you before you eventually rolled over and pressed yourself against Sae.

He rolled his eyes before kissing your forehead. “It’s morning, y/n.” Sae reached over to the side table for his phone, trying not to jostle you too much. 11:17. He kissed his teeth at the frustration of sleeping in much later than he intended to, which explained why he felt so groggy.

“It’s eleven in the morning, y/n. We—”

“All the more reason to stay in bed.” You placed a finger to his lips. “Stop talking so I can go back to sleep,” you whispered.

“You’ll have to get up eventually.”

You didn’t respond, ignoring everything Sae said to capture any remnants of sleep you had left.

Sae scoffed but relaxed into you. He didn’t want to admit it but felt nice to finally not have to get up at five every morning to train. His muscles weren’t screaming in exhaustion, and he could finally recharge his social battery. The stress of travelling the world for the last 4 months had gotten the best of him. Constant training, games, and interviews, rinse and repeat.

Sae sighed and closed his eyes. Maybe you were right, this is the perfect excuse to lie in even if it was for an extra hour before he forced himself to become human again.

That is until the sound of your stomach growling cut through the air like a hot knife to butter.

“Hey Sae?”

He hummed without opening his eyes.

“I think you might be hungry. And I also think you should make us breakfast.”

“What? That wasn’t me—”

“Oh, you should definitely make waffles,” you sighed, almost salivating at the thought.

“We don’t have a waffle iron.” Sae began to shuffle to the edge of the bed to put his slippers on. “I’ll make pancakes—he stood up—and you’re helping me.”

Before you registered what he’d said, Sae had already thrown you over his shoulder and was carrying you to the kitchen. He put you down and instructed that you get the ingredients from the fridge while he got everything else.

Cooking with Sae was like working a well operated machine. He’d set up stations around the kitchen to avoid bumping into each other, but he just had an air of authority about him, especially when he was concentrating.

After mixing together the pancake batter, you watched his piercing green eyes as they focused on the task at hand, flipping the pancakes. It may not seem like serious business but Sae liked his pancakes to be even on both sides. He was always very proud of himself when he’d manage to pull it off, walking around with a smug smile until his inflated ego was ultimately burst by the fact that pancakes were meant to be eaten, not hung as trophies.

You cleaned up while Sae set the table, bringing out the extortionately expensive maple syrup you only used for special occasions, such as Saturday mornings. It’s Thursday.

When you sat down at the table, you questioned him about it.

“What? I can’t treat my girl?”

You raised an eyebrow before digging in. “Thish ish sho good,” you said with your mouth full.

“Are they? Maybe we should start a business. Pancake restaurant? It’s a very unique idea”

“Shut up and answer my question.”

Sae put down his utensils and cleared his throat which made your ears perk up. “I’m thinking of taking a break from football…not for long, just for a season.”

“Oh. That’s okay.” You leaned back into your seat. “I thought you were gonna tell me something crazy.”

“But this is important, it affects you too.”

“I know, but I also know you’ve been stressed—you put your hand over his—take care of yourself before you start thinking about anyone else, okay?”

He nodded while pressing his lips together in disgust.

Your brows raised in confusion.

Sae gently lifted your hand off of his. “You’re sticky.”

You scoffed before rolling your eyes and continuing your breakfast.

m.list | like & reblog

[nymphie-mama]

just friends

pairing xavier thorpe x fwb!reader

summary in which some friends with benefits are meant to be more

warnings friends with benefits, jealously, smut [rough sex, unprotected piv (don’t try this at home),

request Omg okay so this is the most specific request ever but I love your writing and can’t stop thinking about this concept! So they’re all on summer vacation, and Xavier gets a fwb (reader) to try and get over Wednesday (they aren’t a normie), then Xavier goes back to Nevermore, reader goes to visit him one weekend, meet Wednesday and gets super jealous, but then it ends in fluff and/or smut, where Xavier says he doesn’t like Wednesday anymore cos he’s into you 😫😳 -anon

i no longer support percy hynes white and i do not write for xavier thorpe anymore.

a/n not going to lie, it’s a little confusing. but it was too good to pass up. i decided to change it a little bit, but i hope you (lovely anon) still like it! i must admit this ended up way longer than i expected, i got a little carried away.

it’s safe to say you had a fun summer. a messy situation with xavier turned into a messy situationship.

xay, one of your best friends, somehow turned into your friend with benefits. a one time thing turned into a one, two, maybe ten, fifteen, time thing. no one fucked like xavier thorpe. no one knew you like xavier thorpe.

ajax, the only other person who knew about your fling, kept telling you that xavier was using you. to get over wednesday addams. maybe you knew that too, but xay was good at hiding it.

until fall came around.

your bi-nightly hookups quickly turned into weekly. xavier found himself always occupied, usually with Ms. Addams. you felt like maybe you didn’t have a right to be upset. but you also knew that you felt so much more between you two, more than just sex.

xay 11:27 pm

wanna come by?

you were honestly surprised, seeing this text pop up on your phone. you wanted to say no. you just about did

y/n 11:28 pm

why don’t you ask wednesday instead?

you knew it wasn’t right. to be petty. you didn’t have the right to be mad, right?

xay 11:31 pm

come over here so i can fix your attitude

you hesitated. but you can’t say no to xavier anyway. so within the next few minutes you were sneaking into the artists dorm room.

“you came,” he said, smiling. you didn’t reply, but instead, you walked over to xavier’s tall frame.

you wanted to ignore it. the way you knew he had feelings for wednesday. get this over with and go.

so, you wasted no time feelings under his shirt. kissing his neck and collarbones. tugging at his hair the way he liked. he didn’t complain, undressing you to your bra and underwear and pushing you flat onto the bed.

when it came to xavier, it didn’t take much to get that familiar pool between you thighs.

“xavier, just fuck me,” you said, waiting more impatiently than ever.

“needy.”

nonetheless, your underwear was discarded with haste, in a pile with your other clothes. xavier removed his own clothes and aligned himself with your entrance.

he bottomed out in you with one quick motion, making you both groan.

while letting you adjust, xavier thought it appropriate to say,

“you’re mine, y’know? i don’t care about her as anything more than a friend.”

you scoffed, “prove it.”

he scoffed too, almost mimicking you. he pulled almost all the way out and then slammed back into you abruptly. you opened your mouth to scream, and he didn’t hesitate to bring his hand to you mouth. his other hand was on your hip, keeping you realícele still while he slammed into you ruthlessly.

he found a quick pace that had your eyes rolling back within seconds. every thrust hit your g spot and made your screams and whines louder.

“fuck,” he said through strained lips, “feel so good wrapped around me, baby.”

you started to feel the haze come over you, getting lost in his voice and his movement. your name sounded so good falling from his lips.

his hand came away from your mouth, down to rub his name into your clit.

without his hand covering you, your cries were no longer muffled. you didn’t bother trying to hide them, it felt so good.

“i hope she comes down here and hears you,” he whispered into your ear, “how pretty you get for me.”

the room was filled with mixed smells and sounds. you were begging and pleading with him, for what, you don’t know. sweat poured down both of your faces while xavier rut into you, kissed you, groped you. touched you any way he could.

“god, i need you so bad,” he’d said, gripping your hips so you could meet him with his hits.

that band in your stomach was tightening and tears were forming in your eyes. you hair was surely ruined by now, your hips and neck probably bruised from xavier’s handling of you.

“xay,” you whined for the unpteenth time this evening, “so good- feels so good, pretty boy.”

“mhmmm- you were made for me-“

your breathing was shallow and short, almost synchronized with him.

“please, xay. please, please, please,” you were whining. begging, for something you knew you’d get. were about to get.

“i know, angel. let go, it’s okay,” he said. his strokes were getting sloppier and slightly slower. he was chasing his own release.

like he was gospel, you body reacted with his words. something beautiful washed over you. he wiped the few tears that stained your face, and let himself calm down.

his found a new, easier rhythm. with just a few thrusts, he was shooting his cum over your stomach, loving the little mess he made on you.

he cleaned you up, like he always did. gave you new clothes. you got up to leave quicker than normal, without an extra word.

“don’t go,” he said, following after you and reaching for your hips again (he quickly let go and giggled as you winced). “i meant what i said. i’m over her. i want you.”

“let’s lay down,” you said. you were both gleaming as you laid down next to each other. you talked everything out and then went to sleep in each other’s arms.

wednesday masterlist

[nakachuchu]

Time to Eat | Denji (nsfw)

part one

SYNOPSIS: You make good on your promise to Denji.

READER: female

INCLUDES: (first time) cunnilingus, fingering, praise, female-focused, slight femdom, soft hair pulling

WORDS: 1112

WRITTEN: 11/29/2022

NOTE: This happens in a timeline where Makima does not exist. Also, I have never read the manga so if something does not make sense, then oops! There is a part two with Aki!

"Denji," you called out softly, drawing his attention to you. You leaned in and cupped your hands over his ear. "If you kill the Gun Devil, I'll let you eat it."

"Eat what?" he asked out loud, drawing the group's attention to the two of you.

You moved one hand and trailed a finger up and down his thigh, then grazed his cock through his pants. He went still, face turning red.

"Eat me out," you whispered.

Within a matter of seconds, he was running and bouncing off the walls, trying to kill the Gun Devil.

You found it rather amusing. When the promise of a woman's body was mentioned to Denji, he would stop at nothing to obtain it. You should applaud him, really.

"Y/N-san, you're not serious, are you?" Aki questioned.

You shrugged. "I don't see why not. A girl's gotta have fun sometimes."

Himeno threw an arm over your shoulders, drawing you in to rest the side of her head against yours. "You sly whore."

Aki had a distasteful look on his face and clicked his tongue before looking away. He didn't enjoy the thought of you selling your body away so that the Gun Devil could get eradicated.

The promise you made with Denji was on hold after he passed out after his battle with the Gun Devil. But when he woke up four days later, the first thing he thought of was your promise.

In the dead of night, you went over to his apartment — which was really Aki's apartment — since you didn't like many people knowing where you lived.

You weren't wearing the usual uniform that people saw you in at work, which made Denji even more nervous as you stood in the middle of his room with a tank top and jeans on. The moonlight was pouring in from the open window, casting the room in a brilliant dark blue.

He gulped from his place on the bed as you unzipped your jeans and pulled them down, kicking them off your feet and across the room.

"Move," you said.

He scrambled to get off the bed, twisting around the sheets and nearly smacking face-first into the floor.

You chuckled and crawled onto his bed, then stacked up his pillows to lean on them. You took off your panties and threw them at Denji, who immediately lunged for them. You were only wearing a tank top with no bra, and you had no intention of letting Denji touch your tits because that wasn't part of the deal.

You opened your legs and reached down to spread your pussy with your fingers. Denji's eyes widened and he crawled onto the bed, eyes trained on your pretty cunt.

"Have you ever done this before?" you asked.

He shook his head, unable to form words.

You tapped your clit with your finger. "You lick and suck here." Then, you slid your finger up and down, teasing the entrance of your pussy. "You can stick your tongue in here too or use your fingers. Got it?"

He nodded vigorously and hooked his arms around your thighs, bringing you close and tight to him as he leaned down to your wet pussy.

He could barely contain himself. His senses were going into overload. Even after your explanation, he still had no clue what he was doing.

He sniffed your pussy, making you wriggle around in embarrassment. It was a scent that was unlike any other.

He groaned. "You smelled so good."

He licked a stripe up your clit, making you shudder. And that one lick sent him into a frenzy. He was an absolute ravager on your clit.

Denji was sloppy and messy, slobbering all over your clit and pussy, but you took it as a compliment — a compliment that felt great.

He was devouring you as if you were his last meal on Earth, never taking breaks between his lips. He was dead focused on tasting you and making you feel good.

You loved watching him eat your pussy, tongue flicking up and down, side to side before his lips would attach to your puffy clit to suck on them.

Remembering what you said about fingers, he moved one arm back to stick a finger inside your wet cunt. He curled it, noticing how your body twitched in response.

He repeated the process of curling his finger inside of you while slobbering his tongue over your clit and sucking.

Your legs were quivering, and you threw your head back and closed your eyes to savor the moment. You could hear the sounds of Denji messily lapping up your juices, slurping and sucking like he had been dehydrated for days.

Denji’s eyes flicked up, zeroing in on your breasts. He could see your perky nipples through your thin tank top, and he swore they were begging to be released from the confines of your cotton tank top.

His other hand slithered up your stomach, and you opened your eyes to look down and pinch the back of his hand. He unlatched his mouth from your clit to scowl.

“Tits weren't part of the deal,” you murmured lazily. “No touching,” you said as you lifted your tank top.

Your tits bounced back and you teased Denji by fondling them, rolling your nipples between your fingers. He frowned but got back to work on your clit.

You moaned and began rocking your hips against his face, craving his hot and slender tongue.

Denji still couldn't believe he was losing his oral virginity to you. You were undeniably hot, and he wished he could take a photo of you from his angle: legs spread apart with gorgeous tits up ahead.

Your breath hitched. “Right there, Denji. Fuck, right there. Good boy.”

He immediately got a burst of energy, an invisible tail wagging eagerly behind him as he picked up the pace. He used one hand to push your thigh up and slid a second finger into your pussy, curling them against your slick walls.

Your back arched, hand shooting out to grip his hair as you rocked your hips against his face to ride out your orgasm.

“F-Fuck, good boy,” you moaned.

You knew he wouldn't stop if you didn't pull his face out from your pussy. You sat up and pulled him up by his hair, then leaned forward to kiss him.

Your tongue massaged his tongue, and when you pulled away, a string of your cream and saliva attached to your lips.

“That's for killing the Gun Devil,” you whispered. “Good job, Denji.”

Aki stood outside on the balcony with a cigarette between his fingers, an irked expression on his face.

[flowerandblood]

The Man and the Golden Gift

[ Amor • Aemond x Psyche • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, smut, angst, violence, trauma, mourning, description of murder and wounds ]

[ description: After she is attacked in a fair by a strange man and narrowly avoids death, her father the king decides that from now on she will be watched over by one of his ‘ghosts’, a assassin acting on his orders, wearing a black mask. The man follows her like a shadow, accompanied by their past, which keeps her awake at night. Gothic horror love story, angst, sexual tension, verydark Aemond. ]

This story is several requests combined into one: sworn protector x female; Amor x Psyche; Phantom of the Opera! Aemond x female. I took the liberty of creating a completely new story from this, having only elements of each of these requests.

Series & Characters Moodboard Lady Walford Moodboard Gothic & Horror Sensual Moodboard

Part 1 - The Man with the Black Mask | Part 2 - The Man with the Empty Heart | Part 3 - The Man with the Lost Soul | Part 4 - The Man with the Cold Mouth | Part 5 - The Man with the Deep Scar | Part 6 - The Man with the One Eye | Part 8 - The Man in the Black Crown | Part 9 - The Man with the Bloody Sword | Part 10 - The Man in the Black Gloves | Part 11 - The Man in the Death Cloak | Part 12 - The Man with the Pearly Hair | Part 13 - The Man with the Fiery Gaze

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He was unable to explain to Criston what he felt as he pulled the mask from his face in front of the King and saw the realisation in his eyes that justice has finally reached him.

He was sure he was smiling broadly when, before he could get anything out of him, his dagger slashed his throat, ruby thick blood beginning to flow from his wound onto his blue, gold embroidered robe.

He clutched at the place of the cut, got up from the table and fell over, choking, probably trying to call out to his guards, but all that came out of his mouth was a grunt. He stood over him and watched him die, his pupils slowly became empty as the life drained out of him.

He wanted to wait another week until the troops they were waiting for arrived near the city, but after what his future wife had done, he could not wait.

He was furious because she reacted to the sight of his face, of his scar just as he had feared, because he desired her, because he needed her, and she now abhorred him, could not even look at him.

He knew this would happen, but he felt pain and disappointment anyway.

He thought that what she felt at the sight of him didn't matter − he had already decided that their marriage would not only be purely physical but also political, and although he hadn't shared his plans with his lords, even if he wanted to he wouldn't be able to bear the presence of another woman beside him.

He had united with her through death, grief and blood.

They had long been one.

The nuptials were a mere formality.

Having performed his miraculous act of revenge, he put his mask back on and left the chamber as if nothing had happened, knowing he had little time. He found the ghosts who were involved in his plan and instructed them to spread the word that it had begun.

Criston at the head of his army appeared at the walls of his city within hours, at the same time panic had set in in the fortress − the guards knew that one of the ghosts had killed the King, but they did not know which one because they all looked almost identical.

The first battles began, bloody and brutal − his men, his befriended servants, the ghosts and the guards murdering anyone who fell into their hands.

He did, however, instruct them not to enter Lord Walford's daughter's chamber and to lock up his son.

They succeeded in accomplishing what he had done eight years before, which was to have the effect of surprise; no one was prepared for the King to be betrayed by his own ghost − they no longer knew whom to trust, and the royal guard and army were looking for guilty parties among themselves, unable to put up any real resistance to them.

Long hours passed like minutes, and when at last he stepped into the chamber where his father had deliberated with his advisors years ago, the lords and his allies were already waiting for him.

The fortress had been conquered, their armies were taking over the city.

It was done.

He took off his mask and threw it on the table, feeling free, feeling relieved, feeling satisfied. All those present bowed before him and called him their King, he, however, was thinking of only one thing.

"Bring the daughter of this traitor here."

As she entered the room, led by Criston, he was struck by the fact that her hair was loose, on her body apart from a thin nightgown only a robe tied at her waist. He felt his heart beat harder in excitement as she looked up at his face, fearless, emotionless, confident.

He knew that she was not afraid of death.

That if he decided to end her life, she would accept it with peace of mind.

She was a walking dignity.

"How dare you look straight into the face of your King, traitor!" Shouted one of the lords loyal to him, snapping him out of his reverie as he tried to grab her arm − he furrowed his brow, seeing this, feeling discomfort.

She was his.

"Don't touch her." He said coolly, warningly, with no intention of repeating himself. The man froze, looking at him over his shoulder in disbelief, pointing his finger at her.

"She should be searched immediately, Your Grace. She may be hiding a dagger in her sleeves, we do not know what she will do." He said with certainty in his voice, his gaze directed at her again, her face expressing absolutely nothing.

"Leave us alone. Immediately."

"But, my King…" He heard Ser Criston's voice, but he glanced at him with such a look that he only swallowed. He nodded, leaving first, followed by the other men, who walked hesitantly behind him, looking at Walford's daughter with distrust and displeasure.

The door closed behind them at last and they were left alone.

They stared at each other in silence − his lips pressed together at the thought that he no longer saw the fire and tenderness in her gaze that he had seen over the past few weeks, that he now disgusted her.

What she thought of him didn't matter, however, he still felt a humiliating sense of disappointment.

What had he expected?

He hummed after a moment, deciding he would get to the point, running his fingers along the table top, not wanting to waste either his or her time.

"I understand your disappointment and your grief. In truth, I have procrastinated too long, but I did it with our future in mind. I wanted the takeover of the throne to proceed without…unnecessary disruption and, as if to put it, dramatism." He said calmly, wanting to briefly explain the whole situation to her.

He expected questions from her, but she said nothing; she stood on the other side of the table with her hands folded in front of her, upright and proud, looking at him calmly. He licked his lips in irritation, wondering if she was trying to get him off balance.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

"Is he dead?"

He blinked and snorted under his breath, amused to hear how indifferent and soft her voice was, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the thought that, as he had suspected, her father's death had not particularly bothered her.

"I killed him a few minutes after I left your chamber." He said lightly, cocking his head to the side as he watched her reaction, however her face remained equally calm, as if this information had made no impression on her.

"How?" She asked with emphasis, as if she expected him to do the right thing and he licked his lips at the thought.

"I cut his throat." He hummed with delight, recalling the scene, that wonderful, sweet feeling of achieving the revenge he had so dreamed of. She lowered her gaze, as if musing for a moment, and then raised her eyes to him again, her brow furrowed slightly.

"Good. What about my brother?" She asked firmly, a note of threat in her voice from which he tightened his lips.

"He's in a safe place."

"I want to see him."

His lips twitched in a dangerous grin and he squinted, looking at her watchfully.

If she thought she was going to put conditions on him, she was wrong.

"You'll see him once we get everything settled."

Her look changed, her eyes got bigger − he could see the surprise in her gaze, as if she had no idea what he meant.

He felt irritation at the thought that she had already forgotten what she herself had asked him to do, and what he had promised her.

"We need to discuss the details of our nuptials and coronation in the coming days. They should take place as soon as possible." He said dryly, looking away from her towards the flames, feeling his heart pounding fast, unable to bear the humiliation if her reaction was as he feared.

"I don't expect your pity. I will not tell anyone about what has happened between us, I will spare myself this humiliation. Send me back to the monastery or wherever you see fit." She said with a kind of weariness from which he felt a tightness in his throat − he looked at her shocked, not believing what he had heard.

Send me back to the monastery or wherever you see fit.

She did not want to be his wife.

She didn't want to be his queen.

She didn't want to be his.

"Are you that disgusted with me?" He asked furiously, clenching his hand into a fist, feeling a squeeze in his heart and discomfort in his stomach, unable to contain the terrible, hot feeling of disappointment that shook his muscles.

She looked at him in disbelief, her lips parted in surprise and suddenly she laughed pearly − he felt his lower lip tremble at the thought that she was mocking him.

"With you? I'm disgusted with myself." She said touching her hand to her chest.

"I believed you like a naive little child. Aren't you tired of lying?" She asked with a pain, sadness and regret that made him breathe loudly, looking at her with wide eyes.

He stood up suddenly, roused by some brutal, sharp feeling that surged through his body, and after a moment he was in front of her, his large, rough hand clamped down on her slender, soft neck − she drew in air loudly, looking at him helplessly, grabbing his wrist, however, not trying to defend herself.

"Lying?" He hissed furiously, aggressively lifting the material of her robe and chemise in a swift motion, his free hand pressing between her thighs, he heard her squirm in terror and surprise.

He sighed quietly in relief as he felt her sticky moisture under his fingers, teasing her pearl with slow movements, his hand rising from her neck to her cheeks and cupping it, forcing her to look at him.

"That's what you call a lie? Hm?" He growled enraged, his fingertips rubbing her with an increasingly loud, wet click of her juices − she mewled helplessly, surprised as he slid two fingers deep into her tight, fleshy insides, his manhood throbbed hard in his breeches as he felt her clench around him.

"Don't you want this? Do you want me to stop? Come on, fucking get it out of you." He hissed, grabbing her hair, pressing his forehead against hers, looking directly into her eyes, wanting to read anything from them − her pupils were dilated, her gaze clouded, her cheeks flushed with exertion and emotion, her wonderfully plump and shiny lips slightly parted.

He sped up, sliding his fingers in and out of her faster and faster, pressing and kneading intensely on the spot inside her from which quiet, helpless whimpers erupted from her throat.

"− ask your husband, tell him what you want − come on, you know I'll give you fucking everything −" He growled almost in despair, wanting nothing more than for her to tell him that she still wanted him, that she wasn't disgusted by him, that she still believed, as he did, that they were the same, that they were made for each other by the gods, that they were one.

He felt her hands tighten on his tunic, her hips begin to respond to his treatments.

"− please, husband − please, tell me you didn't plan this −" She mumbled out with a pain from which he felt his throat tighten − he chuckled involuntarily, clenching his eyes, wondering if she even realised what she had done to him.

"− planned? − good gods −" He murmured lowly, massaging her insides with intense, sure motions, her tight walls clenching against him greedily, his hand all sticky from her moisture. "− I almost lost everything − because of you − for you − do you understand? − say you understand −"

She nodded quickly, looking at him in disbelief − he drew in the air loudly and felt a powerful shudder pass through him as her small, soft hand touched his cheek, running her fingertips over his scar in a tender, light movement. He moaned weakly, feeling his cock pulsate hard, and thought with pain that this was what he needed, that he wanted more.

He leaned forward and dared to brush his lips against hers, feeling her warm breath on his skin, her lips wonderfully moist and soft. He rubbed them again and again, her lips beginning to respond to him tentatively, until finally they clung to each other, embracing tightly in each other's arms, his tongue forced its way deep into her throat.

He heard her sigh in relief, her hand running suddenly over the bulge in his breeches − he suppressed a groan, feeling a strong shudder pass through him.

"− please, husband −" She babbled pleadingly. He sighed with satisfaction and relief at the thought that her distance, her trepidation, her coldness was only due to the fact that she was as afraid of trusting him as he was of trusting her, that living with a perpetual sense of betrayal made it seem to her, for certain, only a matter of time before it came from him.

He assured her with the deep, sure thrusts of his hips into her tight core of the permanence of his feelings, panting along with her − he rooted into her with ease, her moisture running down her buttocks making their bodies slap against each other loudly, her hands stroking his hair and cheeks, their lips dancing and rubbing against each other between their ragged, heavy breaths.

"− you're fucking leaking − that's what you call lying? −" He hissed into her mouth, speeding up, her walls clenching around him greedily, making the heat flow through his entire body − he lost the sharpness of mind, focused only on the natural instinct to root deep into her.

"− you're mine −" He muttered, only to come deep inside her after a few desperate thrusts, filling her at last with his seed, her body arched in pleasure and trembled in his arms, her fingers clenched in his hair.

He looked at her, strangely calm and assured, seeing in her eyes what he craved, the same warmth and devotion, the promise of tenderness and security. He licked his lower lip feeling her fingers run over his scar again, thinking about how he wasn't going to make her look at it.

"− I'm going to wear an eye patch every day −" He said indifferently, but she shook her head, furrowing her brow, startling him completely.

"− not in front of me − not in front of your wife − my husband will never hide his face from me again −" She whispered and just hugged him embracing his waist.

He felt a tightness in his throat at her words, some kind of hot emotion, clenched his eyes and cuddled his face into her neck, thinking only of the fact that without her it all would be pointless.

"I have a wedding gift for you."

The sight of them walking down the corridor together caused consternation among his lords, but they dared not say a word when he led her into the chamber that belonged to his mother.

The woman who had saved his life that day was standing facing the window. She turned towards them when she heard the sound of the door opening, looking healthier and more confident than when he had last seen her − her hair was combed into an elaborate bun, her long, dark blue gown with sleeves reaching down to the ground emphasising her slender waist.

He glanced out of the corner of his eye at his future wife and saw that she stood still with her mouth wide open, trembling all over as if she had really seen a ghost, her eyes big and filled with tears. She pressed her hand to her face in a gesture of disbelief, a sort of mumble came from her throat, and then she threw herself with a sob into the arms of her mother, who embraced her tightly.

He looked at them and thought only of how all his life he had dreamed of such a miracle for himself, of how one day someone would lead him to a room where it would be his mother waiting for him.

He swallowed loudly, realising with a clenched throat that it would never happen, but he had no regrets about sparing this suffering to the woman he had chosen to be his queen.

He wanted her to know that he could also be merciful.

That although cold and cruel, he was not heartless.

He decided to leave them alone and give them some privacy.

That same night he came to her, to her chamber − she raised herself on her arm when she caught sight of him, something in her eyes that made him hot.

"− my King −" She whispered softly, warmly, with longing, desire and promise − he felt the way she said those words in his cock, which throbbed hard in his breeches.

He approached her without a sound and parted his lips in a sigh of delight as she immediately rose up on her knees, her hands without question reached for the clasp of his tunic, undoing it with ease, untying his breeches.

A low, surprised moan escaped his lips as her hand immediately grasped his manhood and squeezed it − it throbbed hard in her grasp, his hand involuntarily reaching for her cheek, his thumb running over her soft, warm skin.

He pressed his lips together and let the air out loudly, holding back the groan that wanted to escape his throat when her head bent down, slipping the fat, pink tip of his cock into her warm mouth.

"− fuck −" He growled in pleasure, feeling a powerful shudder run through him as her tongue began to tease and lick him, his fingers moved up and tightened in her hair − he stared at her in disbelief, feeling his heart pounding fast.

"− do you wish to show gratitude to your King? − hm? −" He exhaled and she nodded, breathing rapidly, her eyes closed. He sighed loudly as she slid his hard, swollen manhood deeper between her lips and began to suck it, squeezing the part she couldn't fit in with her fingers − he tilted his head back, horrified at how much it aroused him, how hard he pulsed in her throat.

"− gods, fuck, slow down −" He mumbled, despite his words involuntarily starting to rock his hips inside her mouth, slapping the head of his cock against the back of her throat.

She moaned with the effort of feeling it, refusing to stop − the sight of her sweet lips clenched around him, her innocent face between his thighs was something he couldn't deny himself despite wanting so badly to come deep inside her.

"− thirsty for my seed, hm? − do you want to taste it so badly? −" He muttered between desperate thrusts, clamping both hands in her hair, his swollen length rooting into her mouth with a loud, lewd click of her saliva.

He groaned low as her hand began to squeeze him more intensely, soaking his cock between her lips − she nodded, bringing him to the brink of fulfilment.

"− very well − swallow it, swallow it all − oh, gods, fuck-fuck-fuck −" He breathed out, feeling the pleasure shake through him as his spend finally spilled deep down her throat − he heard her struggle to take in what was flowing out of him, not letting even a drop go to waste.

He stroked her head, looking at her with pride, affection and tenderness, rocking his hips in her mouth for a while longer, listening to the wonderful sound of swallowing.

"− you will make a fine Queen −"

_____

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(bold means I couldn't tag you)

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[macbethsymphony]

The Swordsman and the Blacksmith | Chapter 21

Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Chapter wc: 6.3k

Chapter rating: NSFW-ish

Content/Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fem!Reader, Enemies to lovers, SLOW slow burn, Eventual smut

Summary: Your skills as a blacksmith have made you desirable to both the government and pirates. You know you have to leave this island if you want to escape your fate, but that doesn't make the choice of leaving any easier. Roronoa Zoro is intrigued by your skills as a blacksmith. Your work is like nothing he's ever seen before. Unfortunately, you're hot-headed and he's rude and you both definitely hate each other.

Chapters [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20]

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3

Chapter 21: Shusui

Roronoa Zoro was already in your forge when you got there. Standing amidst the dancing flames, the heat radiating from the blazing fires was casting flickering shadows on his sweat-dampening skin, emphasizing the hard lines of his physique. For a moment, you couldn’t help but pause, drawn to the raw power exuding from him as he sifted through the array of objects scattered across your workbench.

He picked up one of the kitchen knives you had been crafting a few days prior, his focus intense as he examined the half-finished blade with a critical eye.

"They're for Sanji," you interjected, your voice slicing through the sound of crackling flames as you finally approached him.

His brows furrowed slightly, a hint of irritation passing his stare. “The cook?” He twirled the steel in his fingers absentmindedly. The unpolished metal glinted mesmerizingly before he returned it among the others. “He’s peculiar about his tools.”

You hummed in agreement as you joined his side. “You’re right, it was an unexpected request. I guess he really liked the first one I made.”

A faint scowl flickered across Zoro’s features at your words, his jaw tightening imperceptibly. You watched as his hand reached within the leather bag on the wooden top, taking out a few small black balls of steel.

“Those are for Usopp,” you explained. “We’re working on a prototype together.” Your gaze lingered on his fingers as he rolled and observed the projectiles. You pointed at a black guitar pick and an engraved money clip. “And these are for Brook and Nami. I’m also working on a surgical set for Chopper.” You chuckled before continuing. “Luffy asked for a bracelet and I’m working with Franky for improvements on the ship. Robin still insists on not wanting anything… but I’ll find something.”

He scrutinized you for a moment, a subtle intensity in his gaze as he contemplated something, his fingers lingering on the leather bag as he put back the small spheres into it.

There was a palpable tension in the air as he shifted, settling himself half-sitting on your workbench. “You’ve been busy,” he observed with a hint of stiffness in his voice.

You met his gaze, your eyes tracing the lines of his features, heart skipping a beat at the proximity. It was a rare moment for Zoro to be almost eye-level with you, and the subtle difference in perspective sent a thrill coursing through you.

"I suppose I have," you admitted in response to his observation, you gave a satisfied nod as you looked over the objects.

The heat of the forge swirled around you both. His hand reached out, fingers intertwining with yours as he pulled you closer, the sudden movement catching you off guard. You found yourself standing before him, his touch sending a flutter in your stomach as he brought your hand near to his face.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his gaze roamed your hand, his fingers tracing the rougher patches of skin, the tiny scars, the marks of your hard work with a gentle curiosity. You felt a rush of self-consciousness wash over you, a flush creeping into your cheeks as you tried to pull away, but his grip remained firm.

“What about me?” he couldn’t help himself but ask, his eye meeting yours. His voice was low and husky, a hint of something indiscernible lurking in its depths. Was that a hint of jealousy you detected? Or something else entirely?

You met his gaze in a teasing look, your lips quirking up in a smirk. "What about you, swordsman?" you echoed, your tone laced with amusement and a touch of mischief.

Zoro's stare narrowed, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly as he held your eyes, a faint grin tugging at the corners of his lips. The subtle shift in his expression hinted at a challenge, as if he were daring you to continue the path you were going towards.

"You know what I mean," he replied, bringing your palm to his lips in a soft kiss, before moving on to the pads of your fingers, to the healed scars.

Your heartbeat quickened at the intensity of his gaze, the warmth of his breath against your skin was electrifying, igniting a fire within you that blazed at a far higher temperature than the ones of your forge, threatening to consume your senses.

With each gentle caress, you felt yourself surrendering to the magnetic pull between you, drawn inevitably closer to him. A gasp escaped your lips as his lips trailed down toward your wrist, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. He bit at the hem of your long sleeve, dragging it down before placing a soft kiss on your pulse. The sensation was intoxicating.

"You're not going to make this easy, are you?" he muttered against your skin, sending waves of desire crashing over you.

You couldn't help but smile at his words, the teasing shimmer in your eyes mirrored in his. "Right, where would be the fun in that?" you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned into the game you were playing, your free hand going to his jaw, down his jugular.

Zoro's grip on your wrist tightened, his tongue met your skin, followed by a soft bite, his gaze never leaving yours in a silent dare. You whined at the sensation. Your touch descended to his collarbone, to the expanse of flesh visible in his open overcoat. The tips of your fingers traced the scar on his chest before they found the small crescent marks you’d left the night before, almost unnoticeable but definite under your touch.

"Is that a challenge, witch?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that reverberated under your palm, his breath hot against your skin.

Your heart pounded in your chest as his words sent a thrill coursing through you, igniting a fierce desire in your core. With a mischievous look, you leaned in closer, your lips hovering provocatively near his ear.

"What if it is, swordsman?" you whispered, your breath hot against his skin, it was his turn to stiffen subtly beneath you. 

Something akin to a rough moan left him as his hand left yours and went softly to your nape, directing your lips towards his. There was an amused glint in his eye, a contented smirk on his features. “Always so defiant,” he commented hovering at the edge of a kiss.

"Oi! Firecracker, did you see my hammer?" Franky's voice boomed, reverberating through the walls of your forge before he inevitably appeared in the doorway.

You jumped back, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks at the realization of what you were doing. Zoro's frustration was palpable as he let out a low groan, his hands clenching the workbench’s edge until his knuckles turned white, his nails digging into the wooden surface. His head fell back, a muttered curse slipping past his lips, barely audible but laden with exasperation. Something suspiciously resembling ‘this fucking ship’ reached your ears. You weren’t entirely certain if it was an echo of your own thoughts or something the swordsman whispered.

The cyborg stopped in his tracks, his gaze travelling between the two of you, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he leaned casually against the frame of the door. "What were you brats doing?"

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the suggestive undertone in Franky's question. "Your hammer, Franky? Let me find it…" Your eyes scanned the cluttered workshop, searching for the misplaced tool.

Franky's eyebrows arched in amusement as he pushed further, undeterred by your attempt to redirect the conversation. "Were you guys doing something inappropriate? Should I have knocked first?"

Spotting the damned hammer, you seized the opportunity to change the subject. "The idiot owes me a sword," you replied tersely, your words curt.

Zoro chimed in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And the witch is supposed to give me a sword."

"Swords, huh? Sure," Franky drawled, his suggestive tone adding a playful edge to the exchange.

Ignoring Franky's insinuations, you quickly retrieved the hammer and handed it to him with a forced smile. "Here you go, Franky. All set?"

He accepted the tool with a grin, his mechanical fingers wrapping around the handle. "Thanks, Firecracker," he smirked, his eyes darting over to Zoro. “Don’t let me interrupt you brats,” he teased before sauntering out of the forge. His laughter echoed through the space as he left. There was a silence for a moment until you heard the inevitable hearty cackles start again. “Oi, Robin! You won’t believe what I have to tell you.” The words barely reached your ears in the distance, but they still made your eyes roll.

You leaned heavily against the wall, an involuntary groan escaping your lips as you regarded the swordsman. A palpable tension hung in the air, a silent standoff between wills, neither prepared to yield nor acknowledge the unspoken undercurrents swirling between them. Your egos struggled quietly, each refusing to concede an inch of ground in this battle of pride and desire. Your stare oozed with irritation and a hint of a challenge. His smirk widened at your defiance, a playful glint dancing in his gaze as he pushed himself off the workbench, moving with the grace of a predator, swift and purposeful.

The bastard was clearly enjoying this. You couldn't help but inwardly curse as you observed his smug demeanor, a frustrating mix of annoyance and begrudging yearning stirring within you. 

Closing the distance between you with long strides, he exuded an almost suffocating presence. Standing before you, he paused, his hand rising to caress your cheek, the warmth of his touch reigniting the simmering heat in your veins. His thumb brushed gently against your lips, a silent invitation you didn’t take hanging between you.

"So?" he asked, his tone laced with amusement as he watched you struggle to gather your thoughts. "What's that new condition you want to add for Yokubari?"

You stumbled over your words for a moment, feeling the weight of his gaze bearing down on you. With a scoff you tried to pass as nonchalant, you pushed him back a step, your hand finding purchase against his chest.

"Right," you began, your voice firm despite the chaos swirling within you. "No unsheathing Yokubari unless we're on solid ground," you declared, moving to fetch the said sword. "And always under my supervision."

You watched his features transform into a confused frown. Watched as his gaze became sharper as he considered your words.

“Why?” He asked finally.

Your expression remained serious as you discussed the sentient blade. “Because I say so,” you replied, your tone unusually firm.

Zoro’s brow furrowed further in frustration at your response, his jaw tightening with barely contained annoyance. “That’s not a reason,” he retorted his voice tinged with impatience.

You shrugged his vexation away, it was a condition on which you refused to back down. “Yokubari is hard to master, consider it a condition for my peace of mind.”

He let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his unruly hair in frustration as he stalked to where you were standing with the sword in hand. “Are you underestimating me, witch?” he asked with a note of anger threatening to come out.

It was your turn to frown at his tone. “I think you’re conveniently forgetting how close you came to dying the last time you held it, swordsman,” you said stiffly as you remembered your deadly blunder.

"I was perfectly in contro-" he started to protest, but halted at the look that flashed in your eyes. "Fine," he conceded, his hand reaching to grab Yokubari.

You didn’t release your grip as his fingers wrapped around the hilt, your jaw clenched, a hesitant look in your gaze.

He gave you a quizzical look, sensing the unease emanating from you.

“Promise me you won’t let it change you,” you said under your breath, your voice barely audible over the crackling of the fires.

"Huh?" he responded, his brows furrowing in confusion at your request.

You raised your tone slightly, the urgency clear in your words. “Promise me you won’t let it consume you, that you’ll still be the same person afterwards.

His gaze softened, a hint of understanding dawning in his eye as he studied your face.

"I won't change," he assured you, his voice carrying a note of confidence. Yet, despite his conviction, your anxiety remained unabated, gnawing at the edges of your resolve as you grappled with the idea of leaving Yokubari in someone else's hands.

You gritted your teeth as you remembered the impact it had had on the people who had tried to wield it in the past. You looked up at the swordsman, gauging if you could trust him. Your grip tightened for a moment before you finally let go.

You watched as he clearly itched to unsheathe the blade, his fingers resting on the guard, but he honored your request. Instead he simply added it to the complex array of knots at his side.

“Get used to holding it,” you said, your tone still tight. “You’ll find that it’ll challenge you at the most unexpected moments.” 

He quirked an eyebrow at that. “How so?” he asked as he undid the knots keeping Shusui at his waist. You couldn’t help the chuckle that left your lips as you thought it over, the tension in your shoulders releasing slightly. “Depends if Yokubari likes you or not,” you admitted. “Though this trouble making blade doesn’t tend to like a lot of people.”

He smiled at that, the upcoming challenge something he already relished. He finished taking out Shusui. “So just like you, witch,” he said giving his sword a final casual twirl before handing it to you.

You ignored his taunt, your fingers reaching excitedly towards the legendary blade. You allowed the thoughts of Yokubari to fade to the back of your mind in the presence of the black sheathed blade. He let go, the sword falling in your palms. Your hands fell at the sudden weight, you stumbled forward, your balance shattered.

“It’s so much heavier than I thought,” you said in excited surprise, childlike wonder etched on your face as you looked up at the swordsman.

Zoro couldn’t help but chuckle at your reaction, a fond smile softening his features as he watched you marvel at the sword in your hands.  "Can I watch?" he asked, his gaze curious.

His request caught you off guard. "It might not be very exciting for you," you replied, clearing your workbench, and setting Shusui in the center. "Studying a sword isn't exactly riveting to the observer."

"So? Can I watch?" he stubbornly reiterated, tilting his head slightly as he awaited your response.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his persistence. "Sure, you can watch," you relented, a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of your lips. You grabbed at the roll of linen on the wooden top, your fingers deftly wrapping the cloth around your hair. "After all, it's your sword we're talking about." With a casual shrug, you gestured for him to come closer, inviting him to observe the process of studying Shusui. “I will be taking breaks to temper Sanji’s knives though, do you mind?”

"I don't," he replied, joining you at your side as you set up the tools you’d need for your observations. You waved towards a nearby stool, wordlessly offering him a seat, but he remained standing. "Does it take long?" he inquired, his gaze fixed on the glowing embers of the forge.

"Tempering?" you echoed, moving to place the first knife into the burning charcoal.

"The quenching doesn't take more than a minute, but the blade needs to heat up for around two hours," you clarified, your movements precise and practiced as you worked. “This forge is small, so I can only really do one blade at a time.”

He hummed noncommittally, watching you grab your notebook and a pen as you made your way back to his side.

You sat down, a thrill coursing through you as you let your hand graze along the scabbard. "Did you tie the sageo?" you inquired, your fingers delicately tracing the intricate knots near the guard. The rope was meticulously tied, each loop and twist a testament to the care and precision put into its creation.

You felt him tense behind you, a fleeting moment of uncertainty crossing his features. "I did," he admitted, his voice carrying a rare hint of hesitation, as if unsure how you would react to his admission.

You nodded, a flicker of surprise dancing in your eyes. "It's impressive," you remarked, your tone genuine as you continued to examine the knotwork. "You have a knack for it. The color is nice, it highlights the details of the scabbard well and the knots are precise," you opened your notebook, pen in your mouth as you considered where to start your observations.

He shrugged nonchalantly, though a hint of pride you didn’t see glimmered in his eye at your praise. He crossed his arms, standing tall behind you as he continued to watch your unwavering attention on the sword. “Tell me what you see,” he demanded.

You tossed your head back, the wrappings of your hair brushed slightly over his abdomen in the movement. You regarded him curiously, noting the shift in his eye. “I didn’t know the great Roronoa Zoro was so interested in sword making,” you teased, with a smile. He raised an eyebrow but before he could retort something clever at your taunt, you continued. “Fine, if you’re going to be hovering over me the whole time, you might as well learn something, swordsman.” 

He took an imperceptible step forward as your fingers grazed down the scabbard. Even through the heat of the fires of your forge you could feel the warmth of his body radiating from behind you.

“The saya is rather standard,” you began, your voice steady as you recorded your observations in your notebook. “It appears to be crafted from magnolia wood, which is the typical choice for a katana scabbard.”

With practiced ease, you lifted the sword into your hands, your eyes tracing the intricate details of the handle and guard. “The tsuba is stunning,” you murmured, barely audible above the crackling of the flames, as your gaze lingered on the delicate flower pattern etched into the golden guard. “Its simplicity complements the blade perfectly.”

He leaned in closer, his interest mirroring yours as he followed your examination with rapt attention.

“Silk is an excellent choice for the handle wrapping,” you continued, your voice growing more animated as you delved into the intricacies of the sword’s construction. “Although it lacks the immediate grip of a round cord, the twists provide a secure hold. Additionally, silk gains traction with moisture, making it ideal for use in damp conditions and prolonged periods of use.”

You paused for a moment, taking an expectant breath in as you drew the blade from its scabbard, anticipation tingling in every fiber of your being. As the gleaming metal emerged into the light, your eyes widened in awe, beholding its magnificent form.

"Oh, you beautiful blade," you  breathed out, your voice hushed and reverent, a declaration to the profound admiration you held for the sleek black steel.

You ran your fingertips along the edge, marveling at the smoothness of the grain beneath your touch. Every curve, every line seemed to whisper secrets of its craftsmanship, a testament to the skill and dedication poured into its creation.

The steel beckoned to you, its presence demanding worship from you. A demand which you happily obliged. A smile graced your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the blade’s satisfaction.

With a mixture of curiosity and respect, you extended your senses, allowing your haki to intertwine with the essence of the blade. The black tendrils of your energy danced delicately along its edge, a harmonious exchange between two souls. It was a sensation beyond words, an intoxicating blend of power and finesse that left you momentarily breathless.

Reluctantly, you withdrew, releasing the connection with the blade but retaining the lingering imprint of its presence.

A soft exhale brushed against your neck as the swordsman drew closer, his breath warm against your skin. "What do you see?" he inquired, the question cutting through the reverent silence that enveloped the forge.

Your heart skipped a beat at the proximity of his voice. Instinctively, you leaned back, seeking a clearer view of the blade, only to collide with the solid warmth of his chest.

For a fleeting moment, you froze, caught off guard by the unexpected contact. Yet as you retreated forward, his hand trailed up your arm, finding its place over your heart in an almost tender touch, drawing you back into his embrace.

“What do you see?” he repeated the low timbre of his voice reverberating through your being, his breath warm against your ear.

Despite the quickening of your pulse, your gaze remained ensnared by the allure of the black steel before you. "It's magnificent," you uttered, your index finger tracing the sinuous wavelike pattern adorning the edge. "Flawless, truly."

Zoro responded with a hum of agreement, his eye following your movements with a quiet intensity.

"Do you see the hamon here?" you asked, pointing to the faint purplish line that delineated the transition between the obsidian hue of the blade and the deep red of the wave following the deadly sharp edge.

"The pattern?" Zoro inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"Not precisely," you clarified, your voice tinged with a hint of scholarly enthusiasm. "While the term 'hamon' is often used to refer to the pattern, it specifically denotes this hazy line formed during the hardening process."

As his hand left your heart to join yours against the blade, you continued to explain the intricacies of the forging process.

"To achieve a pattern like this," you elaborated, "layers of clay are meticulously applied and shaped to create the desired design. The application of more or less clay along the blade's spine regulates the cooling rate during the quenching process, allowing the steel to maintain its resilience while showcasing the distinctive pattern. It's a technique that requires precision and expertise, often serving as trademark identifications between swordsmiths."

Zoro listened intently, his gaze locked on the blade as you delved into the details of its creation. 

"And just as I'm tempering knives today," you concluded, "the blade then undergoes heat treatment to achieve the desired balance of hardness and flexibility."

You guided both your hands near the guard. “See how the line doesn’t stop before the tsuba. It means the clay was applied to the entirety of the steel, which makes it less prone to breaking at the hilt but also more flexible. Both techniques offer their pros and cons but they’ll greatly affect how one uses the blade.”

"I see," he murmured, his hand drifting away from yours, its path tracing an intricate pattern along your arm before venturing upward, his movements gentle against the curve of your neck. Meanwhile, you remained engrossed in your note-taking, your focus unwavering despite the tantalizing distraction of his touch.

He waited with quiet patience, his gaze fixed on the pages of your notebook as you diligently transcribed each detail you had just shared. The rhythmic scratching of your pen against the paper joined the sound of crackling flames, a soothing backdrop to the otherwise silent forge.

Suddenly, your head snapped up, a look of realization crossing your features as you remembered the knife heating away in the charcoal. With a gentle yet absentminded motion, you removed his hand from your neck, the warmth of his touch lingering even as you rose to your feet.

His eye followed you with unwavering attention as you approached the glowing steel, your movements fluid and practiced. With a swift yet deliberate maneuver, you retrieved the knife from the searing heat of the forge, the intense orange of the blade casting a soft light across your face.

Without missing a beat, you plunged the heated blade into the waiting oil bath, the sharp hiss of metal meeting liquid echoing through the forge. Your actions were precise, a well-rehearsed dance born from years of experience and dedication to your craft.

Once the blade had cooled, you removed it from the oil, setting it aside with practiced efficiency before turning your attention to the next knife. With a deft hand, you added it to the glowing charcoal, the flames eagerly engulfing the metal as you began the familiar routine once more.

You eased back into your chair, the worn leather embracing you softly as you leaned back, your eyes scanning over the meticulous notes sprawled across the paper.

He leaned closer, his presence looming over you as he rested a hand on the edge of your workbench, his gaze following the movement of your pen with unwavering attention as you added missing specifics. His earrings clinked imperceptibly near your ear, his breath tickling your neck.

"What now?" the swordsman inquired, his voice low as you swiveled to face him.

Your breath caught in your throat at the unexpected closeness, your pulse quickening at the sight of him mere inches away. Every detail of his features seemed to come into sharper focus, from the faint freckles dusting his cheeks to the curve of his lips as they broke into a grin, a mischievous glint dancing in his eye.

You gestured towards the stool, your tone firm as you commanded, "Sit down. You're getting a bit too close for comfort."

“Wouldn’t want that,” he said with a cocky tilt of his head but, still, he complied without protest. He settled onto the seat, his gaze fixed on you with unwavering intensity as he awaited the next step in your observations, the tension between you crackling like static in the air.

"Better?" he teased when the silence dragged on, a devilish grin curling at the corners of his lips as he leaned back comfortably.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you couldn't help but return his grin. "Much better," you admitted, amusement lacing your words as you yourself reclined in your chair, the heat of the forge casting a warm glow over the scene.

As he watched you, his gaze gleaming with mischief, you reached behind you to retrieve Shusui. With a fluid motion, you tossed it to him, the blade glinting in the firelight as it spun through the air.

"Show me how your haki interacts with the steel," you instructed, your tone tinged with curiosity.

He caught the blade deftly, his movements smooth and practiced. "Why? Shusui likes you enough for you to use haki with it," he stated casually although the comment was laden with implications.

"I'm well aware that Shusui has taken a liking to me," you remarked proudly, a hint of satisfaction in your voice. "But, right now, I'm more interested in seeing how its rightful owner interacts with it."

His stare narrowed slightly at your confidence towards Shusui, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eye as he regarded you. "Curious, huh?" he said, his words carrying a note of intrigue as he continued to twirl the sword absentmindedly.

You met his gaze head-on as you shrugged nonchalantly. "Call it professional curiosity," you quipped, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "After all, understanding the bond between a swordsman and their blade is crucial for crafting the perfect weapon."

He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, as he shifted in his seat, the sword held loosely in his grasp. "You're not wrong," he conceded, a hint of admiration underlying his words. With a deft motion, he adjusted his grip on the sword, his focus intensifying as he prepared to demonstrate the connection between himself and Shusui.

You watched with rapt attention as he began to channel his haki, black coating the tips of his fingers before reaching the steel.

You glided your chair closer to him, bending down to look at how the haki interacted with the wave like pattern. “Do that again,” you demanded excitedly, entirely fascinated by the display.

He obliged, time and time again.

“Does it feel different, coating a black blade with haki, compared to a regular blade?” you asked after you took a quick break to temper the second knife.

Zoro paused for a moment, considering your question as he twirled the sword in his hand, the faint aura of haki still lingering around it. "It does," he admitted, his voice tinged with thoughtfulness. "Coating Shusui with haki feels... different. There's a sort of resonance, like the blade comes alive in my hands."

You leaned in closer, captivated by his explanation. "Resonance?" you echoed, your curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

He shifted his stance, his grip on the handle tightening slightly as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. "It's hard to explain," he began, his brow furrowing in concentration. "It's like... the haki becomes an extension of the blade itself. The steel feels more responsive, more... in tune with my movements."

You nodded, understanding dawning in your eyes as you absorbed his words. "So, it's not just a matter of coating the steel with haki," you mused, your voice thoughtful. "It's about forging a connection between yourself and the sword, channeling your energy into it."

He hummed in agreement. “What about your haki? How does it feel when you interact with black blades?” he inquired with a cock of his head, handing you Shusui, a silent demand for you to show him.

There was an unmistakable heat in the swordsman’s gaze as he watched you handle his sword, extend your haki along the edge of the steel.

"The interaction between my haki and these blades is almost methodical," you began, your voice carrying a tone of careful explanation. "When permitted by the sword's soul, my haki tends to seek out the core of the blade first, then traverses through its various layers of steel." With deliberate intent, you projected the dark tendrils of your haki through Shusui, each filament tracing the subtle intricacies of the steel with a crackling energy. To the untrained observer, it might appear as random movements, but now that Zoro understood, he could discern the faint traces of the blade's composition.

"This is how I can discern with such precision the techniques employed in crafting each sword," you continued, delving deeper into the explanation. "Yet, there comes a point where it becomes perilous. The haki of a black blade can sometimes begin to demand more, drawing upon my own life force. The interplay, the tug-of-war, is undeniably intoxicating, but it's a risk not worth indulging in," you concluded, releasing your haki as the exhilaration began to prick at the edges of your consciousness. 

You gazed up at him, the remnants of the high still evident in the dilation of your pupils. "Shusui may like me," you admitted, "but it doesn't yield to my will as it does to yours. It truly is a weapon of lethal prowess." 

You turned back to your notes, diligently recording the last of your observations. He leaned on the desk, gaze observing you silently. You eventually closed the notebook with a satisfied sigh before getting up to quench the last knife. When you returned to your desk, you sheathed Shusui in a reverent motion before going to stand before the still seated swordsman.

You returned the sword to him, your gaze lingering on the blade for a moment longer before shifting to meet his eyes. As your fingers released their grip on the hilt, a sudden impulse overtook you, drawing your hand toward the glinting earrings adorning his ear.

He looked up at you, an eyebrow quirked in mild amusement as he felt the gentle brush of your fingertips against his skin. In that moment, you couldn't help but marvel at the raw beauty of the man before you, his features soft yet sharp and defined. Gods, he was pretty.

Your touch traced the outline of his jaw, your thumb coming to rest against his lips in a gesture both tender and provocative. The realization hit you like a bolt of lightning – was this what he saw when he toyed with you? The thought sent a thrill coursing through your veins, igniting a fire in the pit of your stomach that threatened to consume you.

Fuck.

This was intoxicating.

With a boldness born of lust, you pressed your thumb more firmly against his lips, the soft flesh yielding to your exploration. Mischief glinted in his eye as he met your gaze, a silent challenge passing between you. Without hesitation, he complied, parting his lips to allow your fingers entry, his tongue meeting the tips in a tantalizing dance of heat and desire.

You pushed further. A low, guttural sound rumbled from his chest as Shusui clattered to the floor, his hands pulling you to stand in between his legs before they roamed up your thighs, your hips. Fingers wandering under the hem of your shirt, flesh meeting flesh as his hands explored.

You let your fingers fall out of his mouth, dragging heavily against his lips before you moved your hand to the back of his head as you leaned down lips meeting his softly. He let you lead, let you discover at your own pace. You tenderly bit on his lip before deepening the kiss, tongue tangling with his.

You felt his fingers travel up your spine before they left the warmth of your skin to settle on your nape. As the kiss intensified, a primal urgency coursed through your veins, a hunger that demanded to be sated. His hands worked deftly to unravel the bindings of your hair, the locks cascading around you like a waterfall as the band of fabric fell to the ground, forgotten alongside Shusui.

He slowly got up from his seat, his hands finding purchase on your thighs as he lifted you effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his waist, the heat of his body sending sparks flying through you as he pinned you against the wall.

Breaking the kiss momentarily, his lips trailed a leisurely path from your jaw down to the hollow of your throat before reclaiming yours with a fervor that sent shivers down your spine. Your hands wandered, tracing the contours of his chest, lingering over the rugged terrain of his scar, and exploring the sinewy strength of his shoulders beneath the weight of his overcoat.

A knowing smirk danced across his lips, but you paid it no mind, lost in the electric current that crackled between you. With a newfound determination, he pressed you more firmly against the wall, his body a solid anchor against which you could surrender completely.

With a swift, graceful motion, he shrugged off the confines of his overcoat, the heavy fabric cascading to his waist, held in place only by the belt cinched around his hips. A muffled moan escaped your lips as his hands returned to you, hungrily exploring the expanse of bare skin under your shirt. Each touch was a revelation, igniting a firestorm of sensation, leaving you gasping for breath and begging for more.

As the kiss broke, your gaze met his, the primal desire reflected in your eyes an echo of his own.

Shit, this was a dangerous game you were playing.

This. Whatever this was… it was more than just fucking around.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still as you contemplated the consequences of your actions.

“We should go eat,” your voice sounded distant, as though someone else uttered the words.

His lips lingered on your skin as the words sank in. He pulled away slowly, his gaze studying your face. “You can’t be for real,” he muttered under his breath in disbelief. But as he noted the hint of uncertainty in your eyes, his grip loosened on your body, letting you fall back on your own feet softly.

“Fuck, woman, you’re going to be the death of me,” He groaned, tossing his head back in exasperation.

He took a step away as he observed your bruised lips, your flushed cheeks. He passed a hand in his hair, a heavy sigh escaping him.

You leaned back on the wall, not trusting your knees quite yet. “We should… We should definitely eat,” you repeated, your words still struggling to feel like your own.

He watched you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before finally nodding. “Yeah, food sounds good,” he agreed.

He stooped down, retrieving Shusui before making his way toward the door, and you followed suit, the weight of the moment still lingering between you. But just as you were about to pass through the doorway, he halted abruptly, his hand gently grasping your arm to halt your progress. Lowering himself to your level, he tenderly pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Next time, I'm not stopping," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of both promise and warning.

You met his gaze, a playful smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "Who says there'll even be a next time?" you countered, your tone laced with teasing ambiguity as you stepped out onto the deck.

A soft chuckle escaped him, his amusement evident as he followed you. Who were you kidding? Of course there’d be a next time.

"You're impossible," he muttered almost affectionately, shaking his head in exasperation.

As you reached the door leading to the galley, you paused, rising onto your tiptoes to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"I'll consider making something for you too, swordsman," you whispered softly, your breath mingling with his before you reluctantly drew back and disappeared into the bustling warmth of the kitchen.

For a moment, he stood there, his composure momentarily shattered as a blush crept up his cheeks. "For fuck's sake," he muttered to himself before finally gathering his resolve and following you inside, the promise of whatever lay ahead hanging tantalizingly in the air.

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Masterlist

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#11: The One & Only  (1.02)

gif cred: @rcsitastark

IMO there’s just no better way to start these episode 2 revelings than by saying - ladies and gentlemen…her. 👑🙌🏽

Michonne Grimes is back and better than ever in The Ones Who Live. I love the attention and thoughtful exploration she got in this miniseries. 🥰

With ep 1, I was so excited to have Rick Grimes back after six long years and to finally learn what happened to him after he was carted away on a helicopter. And now ep 2 was going to give us the highly anticipated return of Michonne and finally learn what happened to her after she (and I) left TWD.

I was so stoked to have her on-screen again. I remember in Michonne's final TWD episode when she was walking to that mysterious caravan with those two travelers I was so sad knowing we weren’t going to get to go with her right away. But now the time had come for us to see her journey continue. And within seconds she reminded us all that Michonne still is and always will be the baddest chick in the game. 💯

So "Gone" opens with a gasman walker making his way through a horde. The gasman wears a shirt that says “Let me help you” and in a way, he does actually end up helping. Because the way he complicates things leads events to play out in a manner that ultimately leads Michonne to Rick. Once again this walker is proof that sometimes things have to burn to bring these back.

gif cred: @taiturner

It’s a quick ambiguous teaser and we can hear those signature weapon sounds before cutting to that beautiful theme song. And I like how every time you hear the missile sound you just know Michonne is near. 

So then we go to six years after the bridge and I like how “after the bridge” is sorta there bc/ad time marker. It was that impactful.

We get a closeup of the beautiful Michonne and it's a nice contrast from how episode one started with Rick facing away. I feel like the contrast helps illustrate the way Rick's circumstances have held him back while Michonne has had to keep marching forward.

Also, I love how TOWL knows how good-looking Michonne and Rick are so they stay giving them ultra close-ups. And as they give us this closeup of Michonne straight away the show was saying 'I know it’s been some years since you’ve seen Michonne so the first order of business is making sure y’all remember that the face card never declines.' 💁🏽‍♀️

gif cred: @chaoticroad

She says “My name is Michonne.” The one and only. And then she says “I lost someone years ago.” Then they cut to Rick just before he pulls the trigger and blows up the bridge and then again we hear Michonne scream his name. TOWL also said it's going to remind everyone of that painful tragic bridge moment several times no matter how much it hurts to see it. It’s an effective reminder of how much both Rick and Michonne hurt from having to live with the memory of that day. 

Then I love the part when Michonne says “But I just found out that he might…I just found out that he’s alive.” as we see clips from her final ep when she found Rick's boots, the phone, and some indication of Rick’s potential location. I love that she corrects herself that he is alive.

She’s choosing to believe in that feeling she’s carried all these years of thinking he was alive, and now that she’s got some evidence she’s declaring he’s alive outright. She knows it. As his soulmate, she knows he’s alive out there. And I love how Michonne always understands the power of words and of belief so she’s choosing to speak it out loud as a statement that he is alive. 

Michonne explains that she saw two people who needed her and she helped them because they needed help, no other reason, and no agenda. That's my Michonne. 🥰 Loyal and helpful and with a heart of gold. 👌🏽

Michonne says she sees what this group has and she still has a long way to go so she needs to ask for some help. But she says she also understands and will just be on her way if they aren’t in a position to give the help she needs.

See how Michonne is so understanding?…And yet when she wanted to keep the communities more separate for their protection and because she’d been severely traumatized, the people who were supposed to be her friends and family couldn’t offer her this same understanding. 😒 (Yes I know that whole s9 arc was several years ago but I just had to bring it up real quick cuz when people disrespect Michonne they have beef with me...

So then the leader Elle starts off by thanking Michonne and Michonne says, “I appreciate that. Could I have a horse?” You can tell she’s not interested in any pomp and circumstance and just wants to be on her way to find Rick and get home to their babies.

Then Elle is taking up Michonne’s time and acting like Michonne is here for a job interview or something as she says she wants to get to know more about her and tell her about the community.

Michonne is kind saying thank you and that she’s impressed with what they have and then she says “But that ‘someone’ - I’m eager to go because I just found out that he’s…” I love this because while Dream Michonne teased that she’s not eager, Real Michonne has no qualms saying she's eager to get to Rick. 😊

She’s honestly being so patient, having just recently got the major news that her true love is alive. I know she’s itching to go but this Elle lady is like girl let’s just gab some more.

Elle at least is a little keen because she immediately knows Michonne is a gem saying, “You could be an asset to this place if you don’t find this person…” I like how in TOWL everyone Michonne comes across knows she’s something special. As they should.😋

gif cred: @perryabbott

And so then Elle is cut off by King Bach who tells her to just give Michonne a horse and like exactly because Michonne has places to be and Elle was nawt getting it.

Michonne gets up saying she could just go because she’s getting to Rick, horse or no horse. Elle gives Michonne credit for saving her sister's boyfriend and her sister and is again told by her sister to just give Michonne a horse.

Elle says, “I meant to say if you do find him you could be part of this community. Both of you.” Michonne says, “We have a community. We have kids” and y’all, when I tell you I let out a yelp of joy hearing her say that the first time. 🤩

Like even despite knowing for several years now that Rick and Michonne have kids, hearing her say "we have kids" just made me so happy lol. Their parents fr. Something about it just felt like she knows she and Rick will be raising these kids together soon enough. 

Michonne continues showing that Mama Michonne is in the building when she says, “Kids who need to see their father. Kids who I need to see. So I have to find him and I have to go now.”

Michonne is on this mission both as a wife and as a mother and she is not returning to her kids empty-handed. And that emphasis she puts on “now”... Michonne was trying to be patient with Elle but you could tell she was ready to get into her “step back” energy if this lady kept delaying her. Also, it's sweet how she says "I have to find him" because it's like she knows it has to be her. She knows Rick needs her specifically.  

Elle asks, “Go where?” And Michonne says Bridgers Terminal. (Side note: I always love seeing the ring prominently displayed on Michonne's necklace.) The caravan folks explain that there are a lot of walkers in the direction Michonne is heading and Elle again not reading the room is all cavalier like just stay awhile and get to know us. Which um, Elle, can you not tell this woman very eagerly wants to find her husband and get home to her kids?? Like ma'am plz...

Michonne lets Elle know she already knows enough about their group to read them a little bit as she notes how this group doesn’t stop for anyone ever, not even Elle’s own sister. Elle defends the community’s rules of not stopping for anyone and Michonne says, “That doesn’t sound like a community.”

Elle gets a little defensive saying, “Well this is how we survived” and Michonne, still as quick on her feet and unafraid to set the record straight as we remember, says, “But not everyone right?” Period. And Elle knows Michonne has a point as she finally doesn’t have words to respond back.

gif cred: @perryabbott

Michonne is over it as she says, “If you don’t want to give me a horse, I’m good” and prepares to leave. But just as she’s gonna go, the best bestie Michonne has had since Carl arrives - Nat. 👏🏽

Nat comes in hot and he’s also over this place for leaving Bailey and Aiden behind. Nat says he keeps this place going and he knows their community is strong enough to stop and save people and he questions what’s the point if they don’t do that. This quickly shows he has a similar mentality to Michonne.

Then Nat sees that his friends are in fact okay and it’s sweet to see the joy on his face as he hugs them. It’s also so sweet to see Michonne smile as she takes all of this in. They explain that Michonne saved them and Nat turns to Michonne as she just looks regal and says, “Hi.”

gif cred: @perryabbott

Nat says, “And you just…brought them back?” And Michonne, knowing that’s just who she is, simply answers, “They asked for my help so I helped them.” She’s just the best. 😊 And Nat knows it because he then offers Michonne her own VIP wagon.

I love that Nat is an instant Michonne fan. Same, Nat. And I love hearing Michonne’s laugh as she then says, “Thanks but, even if I didn’t have somewhere to be, I don’t leave people behind.”

gif cred: @perryabbott

Nat says he doesn’t either and again Michonne “Never Afraid To Tell You About Yourself” Grimes says “But you’re here.” And it’s a valid point yet again. Because by staying with this group it does make you a bit compliant with their ways of leaving people behind. I’m telling you the “Michonne is always right” streak continues. 💯

gif cred: @perryabbott

Nat asks where she’s headed and when she answers he too thinks it’s a bad idea because of the walker migration. But as Rick knows, Michonne is stubborn. 😋 Wonderfully stubborn. So she says, “I’m going” as she’s done hearing anyone else try to stop her.

Nat knows she’s serious so he says, “Looks like you are” and tells her he’ll give her a horse and she can have her pick. Elle tries to stop him but Nat becomes an instant fav as he cuts Elle off and makes it clear his decision is final and that Michonne can have her pick.

And then I so love Michonne’s silent but super-expressive response to that whole moment. The beginning of her and Nat's bond was born in this moment and it’s great to see. 😊

gif cred: @riickgrimes

So Michonne takes her walkie and finally gets out of that room with the group. She follows Nat outside as he asks if she’s waiting for a call. A true mother Michonne says, “Just trying to be home some way until I can.”

I love how she’s so determined to maintain contact with her babies while retrieving her other baby from his CRM misery. And you can tell her determined mindset believes she’ll be home ASAP.

gif cred: @perryabbott

It's so clear that Michonne misses Judith and RJ every second she’s away. Especially when we then see her on the walkie-talkie trying to speak to Shoto but getting no response. When Judith doesn’t answer she says, “Love you. I love you both.” And it’s just precious. 🥲

Any slander toward Michonne as a mother could never be tolerated around these parts. The sacrifice of being away from them right now is so clearly painful for her but, being the devoted mom she is, she's willing to do whatever she can to bring her kids' father back to them,.

Also thinking about Michonne and Judith both trying to speak to each other on those walkie-talkies even tho they can't reach each other...cue my internal tears. 🥺

gif cred: @perryabbott

So then Nat comes back as Michonne lets him know she’s ready to get out of here pronto and wonders where the horse is because it’s been an hour. Nat pitches the idea of Michonne staying with them one night before she embarks on what he deems “a suicide mission” But after he says this, Bailey and Aiden walk up to bring Michonne a top-tier horse and Michonne looks very happy to finally be able to get her horse and go.

Nat is sad and disappointed as he says, “There you go Michonne. You can bounce right now. But if you give us a night. Give us a chance to equip you, tell you how some said equipment works well, maybe you’ll survive 30 more seconds of your trip once you hit the Delaware border.”

Michonne has this sweet big smile as she lets them convince her to stay one night. She charmingly says, “One night. And I’m leaving at dawn.” And I love the way Nat and them then respond like mom just agreed to let them have a sleepover. 😊

Nat excitedly gives Aiden and Bailey orders and wants Michonne to have the best and “something custom” which Nat is a king among men for wanting to give Michonne the best of the best.

Michonne is all looking at Nat confused and amused and she asks, “Measure what? And what are scream sticks?” I know Nat saw Michonne and was immediately like 'now this is a fashion muse that I just have to dress.' 😋

gif cred: @nerd4music

Michonne is told that she’ll find out what it all means and she’s just like “Really?” Which was cute. And then next we see her slaying in the corseted armor. Nat (and the actual wardrobe department) ate with the armor. 🔥

gif cred: @perryabbott

As Michonne rides her horse alongside her new friends, she thanks them for the armor, horse, and everything else. Then Aiden says, “Michonne, you’re gonna find him. I know it.” I love seeing them encourage her. I was super glad that Michonne got to experience some sincere supportive friends in TOWL after it had become a rather rare occurrence in the latter seasons of the main show.

Then Nat wants to get some things straight saying, “Rick blew up on a bridge and it’s been years?” You can tell he’s thinking 'Sis, your man might be gone onto glory by now.' 😬

But Bailey reminds Nat to tread lightly and Michonne co-signs saying, “What he said.” That golden rule of don’t try Rick in front of Michonne still holds true. 👌🏽

Nat admits he likes Michonne and doesn’t like many people so he doesn’t exactly want to lose her company. Michonne smiles and then gives the group something to think about as she questions why they stay with a group that leaves people to die. She says she thinks they’re smart enough to find another way and Nat says, “I guess we’re surprisingly stupid Michonne.” And Bailey says, “or afraid” which is the truer reason.

Michonne says she’s glad she met those three and then wishes them good luck. They wish her good luck too and the way Aiden looks at Michonne as they walk away on the horse, it seems part of her worries that Michonne won’t be so lucky on her travels. 

gif cred: @richardgrimes

Michonne immediately turns on her walkie trying to reach her kids again. Nat notices and says, “You said your kids were in Virginia right?” I like that this shows she clearly opened up to Nat more the night before, telling him about Rick and his name and where her kids are.

Nat says the walkie-talkie will be out of range soon and then hands her the notebook we saw her using to write letters to Judith in the TWD series finale.

In a sweet gesture, Nat says, “You can still talk to them. Then you can show it to them when you get back” as he gives Michonne an encouraging smile. Michonne says, “I thought this was suicide” and Nat’s face falls as he says, “It is. I was just being nice.” Hearing that has me like dang he really was just trying to have them land on a nice note before she went off to what he believes is certain death. 😅 But baby, this is Michonne the one and only so if anyone can make it it’s her.

gif cred: @perryabbott

Also, it’s interesting how Rick was dealing with a more internal threat of suicide while Michonne was confronting a more external risk of ‘suicide’ according to Nat. And I love how writing letters to loved ones is something both Rick and Michonne found solace in while dealing with inward and outward trials and tribulations.

Michonne and Nat go their separate ways as Michonne again tries to reach her baby girl on the walkie to no avail, and you just know she longs to hear her kids’ voices on the other end.

And while Michonne is going her separate ways from Nat and co now, it won’t be the last of them in her story, as Nat is destined to play a very impactful role in Michonne’s life. 😌👌🏽

[huggybearluvr]

If I Could Fly || J.D

!! A Part of the 30 days of music series !!

Series Masterlist

Synopsis: After Jamie got drafted to the Flyers you were both missing the other more than ever. You would have left with him if it weren't for your classes. However, after a late night phone call with Jamie, you drop everything and go to him without a second thought.

The song links:

Apple music || Spotify || Youtube

Jamie had been gone for nearly three weeks now. You couldn't help but feel lonely as you sat in the once shared apartment.

It was nearing 9 in California, so you knew calling Jamie was not an option. It was almost midnight on the east coast.

You sat on the couch watching one of your favorite movies to hopefully distract yourself.

About thirty minutes later a familiar ringtone buzzed from you phone. you were quick to pick it up answering the call.

"Jamie? everything okay?" you asked into the phone.

"Not really," He said trailing off.

"Baby, what's wrong?" You asked now sitting up.

"I just miss you so much, I can't sleep at all," He said softly.

"I know baby, I miss you too," You spoke truthfully, "I wish I could be there."

"I do too," He said.

"Its late baby, go to bed, you have a big game tomorrow against the red wings."

"Alright, I love you," Jamie said smiling into the phone.

"I love you too."

"I'm missing half of me when we're apart"

After the call ended you couldn't help but think about going to Jamie. At around 11 you decided you couldn't just sit here.

You practically sprinted to your room. Grabbing your laptop and emailing your academic advisor, letting them know you would be needing to transfer schools and would like to finish this semester online.

Once your emails were sent you booked a flight to Phili.

You packed up as much as you could in two suit cases and texted Trevor to come over.

As you sat in the living room bags packed you felt more relaxed then you ever have before.

You knew you would be coming back during the summer to finish your moving but for now these two suitcases would be more than enough.

You heard a knock at the door and quickly got up to answer it. As you pulled the door open you saw a half awake Trevor standing there.

"y/n it's midnight, what was so important I had to come over?" He said rubbing at his eyes.

"I need a ride to the airport, and here is the keys your gonna have to check in here once a week til im back to move everything," You spoke quickly.

"Wait what where are you even going?" Trevor said taking the key from you.

"Im moving to Phili."

Trevor couldn't help but smile. He was happy his best friend had someone like you in his life.

"Let's go then," Trevor spoke picking up one of your bags and following you out to his car.

-

You landed in Phili calling an uber to take you to Jamie's apartment. You texted his neighbor carter letting him know you would be at the stadium within the hour.

Carter, Jamies Goalie and Neighbor had agreed to leave a key to his place outside the door so you could leave your stuff there to make it to the game on time. He also agreed to get you a media pass so you would be able to surprise Jamie.

After you dropped your stuff off you headed straight to the Arena. You got in through the back and quickly made your way to your seat. You opted for a pretty bad seat but you didn't want Jamie to see you.

-

The Flyers had won the game against the wings and you were more than ready to run down and see your boyfriend.

You quickly made your way to the ice, walking to the locker rooms. You stood outside of the locker room.

Many teammates walked by giving you an odd look as they had no idea who you were.

Carter came out and sent a smile your way, as you handed him the key to his apartment," Thank you so much for helping me."

"I did this for the kid but, your welcome," He said with a laugh," I'll see you both later."

You stood a little longer, Jamie was the last one out.

He walked out of the locker room, with wet hair and you swear he's never looked so good. His eyes were stuck on his phone.

You picked up your phone calling him. He answered.

"Look up, idiot," You said before hanging up.

Jamies eyes met yours, you both felt butterflies as the world around you froze. You practically ran to Jamie engulfing him in a much needed hug.

"I can feel your heart inside of mine"

"Is this real? how are you here?" He said pulling away to look at you.

"I'm moving here," You smiled leaning up to kiss him.

"baby, you have school," He said, once he pulled away hesitantly.

"I'm transferring, I couldn't be away from you any more," You spoke softly," I already talked to my advisor, Trev's gonna keep an eye on my place til we can move the rest, and for now my suitcases are at Carters."

"I love you so much," Jamie said as he awed at not only your physical beauty but how perfect you were for him. He truly thought that he wouldn't see you for months but now here you are in his arms, and he is never letting you go again.

[meara-eldestofthemall]

Is DC at the stage where they're unwilling to let time flow anymore (a 'Time Crisis' if you will), and the only way anyone's age changes now is through 'time shenanigans'.

Because there has to be an upper limit for how old they will allow a character to be - e.g. (For several reasons) They will never allow Bruce Wayne to turn 50.

You got it in one. Time is now an enemy that needs to be kept at bay, Why?

DC (and other comic books) have to keep their characters within a believable age range. It’s why DC has never allowed their characters to age in real time. They can’t and still keep them viable as Intellectual Properties.  Batman premiered in Detective Comics Comics #27 in March of 1939. Since Bruce was supposed to be somewhere around 22 to 25 years old at that time, he would pushing 130 years of age today.

The biggest canonical age-up in the Batfamily was Dick Grayson. Because of the 1966 Batman TV show he went from a ‘tween to a teen overnight. This was back in the days when I was young, meaning that comic books weren't really taken very seriously. The TV show was a huge success, so DC climbed on board the gravy train and tried to match as much in the comics as they could. 

 After the show ended in 1969, DC wisely realized that keeping an 18 or 19 year old in this costume...

was a truly bad idea (if not soft core porn at that point). Which is why Dick changed to Nightwing.

Dick was about 20 years old (maybe a little older at this point). He was a young adult but an adult by anyone’s standards. Dick then went to Bludhaven where he got not only his very own city to protect but better fashion sense as well. 

What this inevitably meant is that Bruce had to be aged up as well, leaving Bruce in his early 30′s when Dick became Nightwing. Batman got a series of Robins. First Jason..

Who was with him for 2 to 3 years. Batman is now early to mid 30s when Jason dies. Then Tim...

who started as Robin at 13 and stayed Robin until 17. That’s another 4 years. Bruce is now in his very late 30s. Then Stephanie...

who stayed Robin for all of 2 minutes before Tim was Robin again.

Bruce was in his very late 30s when Damian, age 11, came into the picture.

Four more years passed and not only did Tim go from being Red Robin to Robin again but he lost, then gained back a year of age. Damian went from 11 to 13 years of age, making Bruce in his early 40s.

The point is that each new iteration of Robin ages Bruce up. He’s now supposed to be in his early 40s. He’s beginning to feel age creeping up on him. A part of Bruce is finally ready to accept that he physically won’t be able to continue as Batman in another decade or so.

This is why the “Time Crisis” as you call it is vital. Batman has to be kept no older than he is now to be believable. It’s also why Damian got an upgrade to 13 but Tim is going to stay 17 basically forever. Yes, DC can pull some time shenanigan’s and let Damian and Tim get maybe a year older each but that’s it. 

The bottom line is simple. Batman and family are the biggest money makers DC currently has. If rumors are to be believed, Batman and Co are the only real money makers DC has. They’re pulling no end of crazy storyline stuff with Bruce but the one thing they cannot do is make him older. As someone in her late 60s I can tell you from experience that your early 40s are when you have the unpleasant awakening that you can’t push yourself like you used to. Sickness hits you hard. It takes longer to recover from injuries. You’re reminded of the wear and tear you put on your body over the years when you get out of bed each morning. 

“Time Crisis” isn’t really a crisis. It’s simply acknowledging that Batman isn’t Superman or Wonder Woman. He’s Bruce Wayne and Bruce Wayne may be the pinnacle of what a normal human can reach but he’s not an alien or a demi-god. Bruce Wayne is only mortal and all mortals fade with time. 

[forallnumbersosc]

Gaty!! didja get any intresting information from the "exitors" ??

- 🍁Maple Anon

[OOG IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I HAD TO PROCESS TPOT 11 WHEN IT CAME OUT IM STILL ON AN AUTISM HIGH FROM IT]

ALRIGHT!! I've gotten what I can from the EXITors and compiled all of my notes, it's time for me to show my findings on!!

The EXIT!

So what IS the EXIT?

The best thing I can gather having not been there myself, is that it's an extra-dimensional space that exists within Four. Whenever something is eaten (or... in Four's words "zooped") by Four, they shrink down to accompany the initial "space" of Four's mouth, AKA the only place in his body that is closest to following the laws of Physics... Once you enter that door, things get WAY stranger....

I should also preface that we don't know for sure if every algebralien has such a space, as we have only observed these in Four, who seems to have far more power, or at least.... he decides to use far more power than other algebraliens... It's entirely possible that Four is the only one who has the ability to house a space like this!

LAYER ZERO: The Entrance

Diagram legend:

Four's mouth, one of the entrances to the EXIT. Appears much, MUCH higher up once anything enters Layer 0. This diagram does not show the true depth of how far the floor is from Four's mouth.

Four's OTHER mouth. His main tool of contestant transportation when contestants get eliminated... It's not very visible at all, you'd have to pull back Four's mane to even see it, and even then it's also invisible from the other side!

Skin?? Layer?? Honestly I don't know what makes up algebralien skin aside from the fact that in Four's case it acts as the catalyst for the initial "shrinkage" of anything that enters the space... It also seems to give Four a weakness to fire!

The EXIT door... The entrance to the rabbit-hole...

Strange trees. I don't fully know why these growths populate this area and beyond, as they don't seem to have any sensing function such as taste buds or stomach cilia, but I believe they were the first creations Four practiced on when constructing his inner world... he does think about himself quite often.

LAYER ONE: The Classrooms

Starting with a simple algebra classroom, Layer One is a seemingly endless collection of rooms down a long, winding network of hallways that range from other typical classrooms, to portals to areas outside of the EXIT, and even strange, nonsensical collections of things that are.. well... according to Pencil, "don't deserve a description"...

This layer was the only one accessible to the EXITors for months on end before Liy decided to take a peek behind the curtain... Since I believe the EXIT's vast characteristics were created from personal aspects of Four, it makes me think of just how much Four keeps hidden away about himself... Why does he like school so much??

LAYER TWO: The Fourest

Feeling claustrophobic? Take a trip to the scenic and expansive Fourest! I consider this a bit of a "hub" of the EXIT, as it seems like the most widespread place to put different entrances to other, deeper areas, as well as, of course, the pathway out...

Compared to the classroom, this area is the most "organic" in terms of literally being comprised of Four... The classrooms themselves contain a percent of material created from his own body, but it seems a lot has been taken from outside and placed within... This area, however, is pretty much all him. its thanks to this area that I was able to take some small samples stuck to the EXITors clothing.. and i am SO excited to study it! Ahh!!

LAYER THREE: Below...?

[can you tell this is when mod's hand started to get tired/lh]

The descriptions I got from Match, Liy, and Stapy were pretty... odd... to say the least for this wacky pocket dimension, and its certainly where my knowledge of the EXIT seems to come to a close, as the closest the EXITors got to any deeper level was this strange little castle full of even stranger secrets.... You must admit, Four might be cruel but he has an eye for architecture!

Out of the other layers, this one seems to be a combination of both Four material and outside material, making me wonder if this is where Four keeps his best kept secrets or... maybe even his insecurities?

ADDITIONAL NOTES:

Oh yeah... I heard about this... thing that some of the EXITors encountered... From what I know it seems to be simply another part of Four rather than a thinking creature of its own, but it's certainly hard to say!

I'd like to give a thank-you to Pencil, Match, Stapy, Liy, David, and 8-Ball for your contributions to my research!!

...and an apology to Bracelety, Dora, and Firey Jr for er... bringing up such a frustrating and-- well... traumatic event for this information--

...While I must admit I don't enjoy the fact that the EXIT left these fellow contestants a pretty awful impression of algebraliens, I really am glad we have them back!!

PHEW!!! Now that I have most of my information on the EXIT finally on here, time to get back to some of the other questions I got!!

[neverchecking]

Day 10: Fucking Machine- Sage

Man, ya'll went feral feral for yesterdays prompt. Anyway by the time you guys see this I'll probably be in the courtroom (Meaning this was...*gag* queued.)

Smut so Minors Do Not Interact. If I find out a minor has interacted with my blog, I will block you.. Thank you!

Smut CW: Sage is still an asshole, inappropriate use of Zonai tech.

This is Day ten of My Kinktober so be sure to come back and check out the other days! Friendly Reminder that all of my smut is tagged 'Cindersins' including this, but this will also be tagged as 'Cinder's happy halloween' along with the run of the mill smut tags.

Kinktober Masterlist <<< Day 9>>>Day 11

What a sight you were. 

Sage would admit that he was not as…merciful as he felt most would’ve preferred. He liked watching your eyes shine with unshed tears, your lower lashes clumping together as low whimpers choked through your throat. He got a bit of a kick out of hearing you cry and whimper, thighs shaking uncontrollably as overstimulation rocked your entire system. Just watching you attempt to plead with him, blabbering nonsense and gibberish as you brainlessly obeyed his every command. 

It gave him such a kick. Such a rush of power that thrummed in his veins. Made his skin buzz in a maddening warmth that gave him a complex most likely too big for his ego, let alone his crumbling sanity. 

But there was something so devious about this recently hatched plan that he almost felt bad. 

Almost. 

Zonai tech was something he himself didn’t even fully understand, yet he knew enough he could bullshit his way through it. And he had become fairly good at bullshitting. It had taken a few tries and a few missteps, but he had gotten his design patented at long last and what a payout it was. 

It was so erotic watching the machine move, the circular gears interlocking within one and another as the pole attached pulled back then pushed forward, drawing out another noise from you. It made it all so worth it. 

Had he gotten looks from a few Zora after he commissioned the newest glass piece in his collection? Yes. But it was so worth it. Watching the milky sheen of your own fluids coat the frosty glass as the gears continued rolling. In and out, over and over. He could speed it up or slow it down if he so wished, moving it closer for a more intense hit against your sweet spot. All with the control panel on his Purah pad which he could man from the comfort of his favorite armchair. 

Slowly Sage palmed his own cock, thumbing it up and down in time with the slow rolls of the gears, hearing you cry out with every thrust forward. If he had any respect for the rotten goddess’ that claimed to watch over the land of Hyrule, he’d consider thanking them. 

As it stood currently, he’d remain his own god and thank himself, squeezing his shaft as he turned up the speed, hearing you sob out his name as another orgasm shook your core. 

[equallyshaw]

ᴅᴀʏ ᴛᴡᴇʟᴠᴇ: ɴᴇᴡ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ꜱᴜʀᴘʀɪꜱᴇ - Qᴜɪɴɴ ʜᴜɢʜᴇꜱ

and just like that, we are on the last day of holidays with equallyshaw

for those that have been here from the first to this one...ily guys

without further ado, happy holidays- i hope you all have a wonderful day with loved ones. and i also send extra love to those who could not spend christmas with loved ones for any reason. i see you and am going through the same thing🫶🏻🎄

word count: 1.3K

warnings: none!

ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟʟʏ, ᴅᴀɪꜱʏ ᴀɴᴅ Qᴜɪɴɴ were not meant to spend new years together. the two had decided for daisy to stay in boston where she is from, and spend time with her family. daisy though, didn't want to spend it without. it would have been their first new years out of the three previous ones that they'd spend not together. quinn seemed content the last time they finalized their plans for the holidays, but daisy was not content with them.

❅

daisy had been a ball of nerves all day. from the moment she woke up, the moment she got through tsa, the moment she picked up a coffee from the airport cafe and the minute she sat down in her airplane seat. she had turned off her location so quinn couldn't see where she was. they were texting back and forth after she boarded and then she heard the worst news possible, they were being delayed an hour. which meant by the looks of it- she would not be getting there until 9 pm. she texted bella brock's gf, letting her know her arrival time might be pushed back. and bella being the best, had no issue with that. she would make it work. she put her phone on silent, and pulled out her book to read.

she was in for a travel day.

❅

it was 9:15 pm when bella hugged her good friend, daisy. "oh my god i thought i was never getting out of there!" she exasperated as she flung her carry on suitcase and bag in the back, and hopped in the front. "i was worried you weren't." bella said putting her car in drive. "all that matters is that you got here safe and sound." she hummed pulling out of the airport pickup area. daisy nodded, "are we heading to your apartment?" she asked to confirm and bella nodded. "yeah, brock just left for dinner with the boys. i said that i would meet him there later since he knows about you already. but im so excited for q!" she said clapping her hands together. daisy blushed, "me too." she hummed responding to a picture quinn sent of his outfit to confirm that it looked good.

"quinn was being super mopey knowing that you weren't gonna be here this year.." bella let out, as they stopped at a light. daisy frowned, "well its a good thing im here." she hummed locking her phone. "he really said that he was fine with you not being here?" she questioned, as she began to drive again. daisy nodded, "yeah, he said that he was fine with it. he knows how much I've missed my family with starting work here in vancouver, and because of that i haven't been able to travel this season so far. i had a feeling he was putting on a front when we spoke about the plans a few weeks back." she explained and bella nodded. "yeah, im glad you're here. he was sad last night when brock asked about you. it was even more harder i assume because his parents went to jersey." bella concluded. "oh yeah, that was not a fun conversation to listen to when his mom said they'd be going to jersey again.." daisy sighed. "he puts on a brave face but when he could he definitely spoke his mind. i felt bad already leaving and then ellen told him last minute they weren't coming up and had me searching for new years flights day and night." daisy explained. "that's makes me so sad." bella frowned, to which daisy echoed.

❅

it was around 11 by the time daisy had finished her hair and makeup, which was simple and natural looking. just the way quinn adored it. she felt tingly with butterflies fluttering within her, as she smoothed down her pink strapless dress. "listen girlfriend...damn you look hot!" bella said knocking on the door before walking into he guest bathroom. daisy blushed, "he's not gonna be able to let go of you tonight. trust." bella said making daisy do a twirl for her. "lets get going but first we need to do a shot!" bella exclaimed, pulling her downstairs and into the kitchen of the townhouse. "alright alright." daisy smiled taking the shot of tequila and throwing it down. "damn never gets easier." she said after chewing the lime. "oo." bella echoed that sentiment, as she saw the uber notification go off. "brock sent us an uber, lets get going!" bella said throwing on her jacket with daisy throwing on her's as well.

the two hopped into the uber, and they were on there way to the private and upscale bar the boys had rented a private room in. daisy's leg bounced up and down, and bella took a quick snapchat for brock tagging it with "cargo has been secured". "im so nervous." daisy said and bella smiled, "my mom always says that if you still get butterflies or nerves before seeing the person you love no matter how long you've been apart, that that is something to hold on too. its a good thing. quinn is going to just about die." bella smiled trying to comfort her good friend. daisy nodded, and soon enough they were pulling up to the bar.

❅

the two gave their coats to the hostess who then took the two over to the private group. daisy walked behind bella who was texting brock that they were about to walk in. he texted back saying that quinn was in the corner with a few of the single guys. brock greeted them at the door, and daisy gave him a big hug. "thankyou for keeping him company." she hummed and brock smiled, "ofcourse!" he beamed. elias saw daisy from across the room and grinned and threw two thumbs up to her, which she mimicked. she waved to some of the wags who caught on to what was happening and they all smiled widely.

a zach bryan song was playing on the stereo, and once she caught sight of quinn in the corner, her heart just burst. he looked to be having a good time but seemed quite reserved. brock pushed daisy in front of him, and gave her a bit of a push to get going. she gave him a fake glare, before walking the rest of the way. the guys next to quinn face's lit up once they saw daisy, and then smiled and grinned toward quinn.

quinn was confused when the three guys he was with were grinning or smiling at him, like they knew something he didn't. he looked towards his left, and just stared at the girl who was supposed to be in Boston. his mouth was agape trying to process the situation, and she could only giggle in response.

"wait what?" he asked looking around and seeing the team watching him, before he stood up and wrapped his arms around daisy. daisy felt a sense of relief once his arms wrapped around her.

she'd caught him off guard, she'd gotten him good.

"oh my god - youre here?" he asked pulling away a bit to embrace her, and she only nodded in response. "couldn't ring in the new year without q!" she smiled before he pulled her in for a kiss. which made the guys and wags erupt with cheers. they pulled away, as somebody pushed a drink into daisys hand. "how'd you get here?" he asked, and she pointed to brock and bella. quinn smiled at brock who smiled back, and then he looked back down at daisy.

he wrapped his arms around her again, not believing that she was here.

"youre never letting me leave again, i assume? heard you've been miserable without me." she teased, and he shook his head. "never again. not a chance." he mused before pulling her in for another kiss. he pulled away after a few seconds, "wait! who said i was miserable?" causing daisy to giggle loudly.

and there you go folks!! hope you guys enjoyed this series (:

tags: @cuttergauthier @jackhues @toasttt11 @jayda12 @dancerbailey3