#and then once I am through with both of those things I'm going to bed

[uzumaki-rebellion]

A.N.: Content Warning, Blood, Violence, Religious Imagery.

"By the Christians, it is written

That in the black Myrthian age

There existed an addiction to blood, blood, blood, blood

Drink it up, fifty years 'bout enough, time to come back

They want to call the bluff

Ok then, time to come back (what up)"

Sam Waymon & Clipping – "Blood of the Fang"

Celeste stood in the doorway of her bathroom, stupefied.

Terry's red-rimmed eyes held her planted there until her brain-fog lifted by digesting the words he spoke.

He wanted to keep their baby.

She groaned internally as her acceptance of the lexicon shift—fetus to baby—snagged a hold in her heart and mind. Had he been a human and said those words, she would've shouted with joy and hugged him. Instead, she glimpsed the fangs in his parted lips, noticed how the lateral incisors of his bottom teeth were sharp, too.

Beastly.

That's how he appeared standing there, blocking her path out of the bathroom. Is that what their child would look like? A ferocious creature preying on people?

Terry's eyes darted from her face, and he took a deep breath. When he spoke to her again, his fangs retracted. The illusion had forever been broken. She could never see him as a human again.

"Please…keep my child. I'm sorry for putting hands on you…that wasn't right. It was uncalled for…I reacted blindly to Abai being here."

"They said they'd be waiting for you if you showed up again. They had a message for you, too. You can't hide from them forever."

"Pack some things. You're coming with me," he said.

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

Terry gripped her arms tight.

"Do you want to be here at nightfall when a deadly vampire clan shows up looking for me? Huh? They probably have one of their human familiars watching this house right now, ready to contact them because they've seen my face."

"They said they would protect me and the baby—"

"They don't give a damn about you!"

His voice reverberated in a tone not human. Celeste's eyes watered with fear. Terry stroked her arms gently and pressed his forehead against hers.

"You are carrying something they have been dreaming about for centuries. Our baby is their bargaining chip for something your human mind can't even conceive. If this child can go full term and be born…they will have no further use for you."

"If this child goes full term? You don't think she can?"

"No human woman has ever carried a damphir. There's no telling if your body will reject the foreign vampire genes along the way. I am a Daywalker, a vampire of the rarest kind. That means our child will be one, too. They will use her and kill you."

His eyes told no lies.

"Why do you want me to keep her? You make it sound like her life is beyond danger. Why would you want to bring a child into the world to face harm? Hmm? Why risk my life?"

Terry's eyes watered.

"She's my only chance to have a family that I can keep with me if she makes it through. She'll live a long, long time Celeste…and I won't be alone anymore. I love you, and if I can keep a part of you around to cherish like the other family members I've lost…then she's worth fighting for."

"What about me, Terry? Will you throw me away once you have what you want?"

"I want you both," he pleaded.

Celeste's eyes welled up. The pain and yearning in his voice weakened her. He cradled her face.

"I have to hide you in a safe place."

"Where will we go?"

"I need to get you to Mémé's place."

"We should take all of her things with us then."

"Go pack a few days' worth of clothes. I'll put her stuff in my truck bed. It has a retractable cover over it. Hurry!"

"Her boxes are in my sewing room, and some of her papers are on my desk in there."

Terry went to retrieve his great-great-granddaughter's belongings, and she ran into her bedroom and threw clothes and underwear into a small travel suitcase. She dumped toiletries from the bathroom into a plastic baggie and froze when the doorbell rang. It was only five thirty in the evening. The sun didn't set completely until seven thirty.

"Answer it," Terry said.

He stayed near her bookshelf.

Celeste held her breath. She made out the figure behind the colored glass and sighed.

"Micah," she said.

She opened the door, and her relief poured out in a nervous laugh. Micah stared at her with concern.

"I came to check on you. Took the night off instead of wondering if you were okay."

Terry came from behind her and Micah's face grew tense.

"The clouds…" Terry said.

He opened the security door and stepped past Micah. Celeste looked up at the sky the way Terry did.

Dark, steel blue rain clouds blotted out the sunlight, turning the sky a menacing shade of impending doom.

"Ohmigod," Celeste said.

Micah tilted his head to look at them.

Streaks of lightning appeared like white spider veins flashing across the sky. A flock of unknown black birds flew in the sky within a giant circle.

"It's too late. The sun is hidden. I can't get you far enough away without them tracking us," Terry said.

He ran back into the house and grabbed Miss Irma's boxes. Celeste grabbed her suitcase.

"What's going on? Where are you going?" Micah asked, grabbing her hand.

"I can't explain. I'll call you if I can," she said.

Micah squeezed her hand.

"Duchess…tell me. The truth."

Terry carried two boxes at a time and collected Miss Irma's life on two trips.

"Celeste, we have to leave…now!" Terry said.

Rain threatened to fall. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a slow moving low fog filling up the street. Celeste shook uncontrollably, remembering what happened the last time she got caught in a fast-moving fog. She locked her front door. Micah stayed on her.

"Duchess!" Micah said, his eyes full of fear.

"I have to hide from some people. We thought we had time, but the sun is gone," she said.

She jumped into Terry's truck. Micah tried to open the passenger door and drag her out. Terry rushed forward and shoved him against the truck bed, his fangs bared and ready to tear the life out of her cousin.

"Terry, don't! He's our baby's family," she shouted.

Micah held his hands up to protect his face.

"I knew you weren't shit!" Micah spat out.

He wrenched his eyes away from Terry and looked at her.

"Go to St. Augustine's. Father Mbenga can hide you," Micah said. "It's church, though. I don't know if he can go in."

Terry released Micah's shirt and looked at her.

"I can ask him to invite you in again. Will that work?" Celeste asked.

"He invited me in before. It should still be safe for me to enter," Terry said.

"I'll follow you guys over there," Micah said.

He carefully backed away from Terry and fumbled with his keys to press his key fob. Terry climbed into his truck quickly and took them several blocks through the Quarter to hide in the fog. He drove with one eye on the road, and the other watching the surroundings. Celeste kept expecting the white van with ghouls to sideswipe them, preventing their escape.

"Where are the people?" Celeste asked.

The empty streets blanketed with fog were an anomaly. There should've been plenty of people still walking around and filling the Quarter with life. They headed north and parked in front of St. Augustine's. The church stood like a gothic rendering of salvation.

Terry jumped out of the truck first and ran to Celeste's passenger side, helping her get out. He held her hand tight and kept her near his side. Micah pulled up behind them and ran to the locked church doors. He banged on them and pulled out his smartphone.

"I'm calling the church office number," Micah said.

"Can we break in?" Celeste asked.

The fog swirled higher, covering them in a thick layer. Visibility diminished and with it, the dampening of sound all around them. Their voices sounded like they were in a closed vacuum. The acute silence and shroud of whiteness around them gave Celeste the sense that they had entered another dimension where only the three of them existed. Micah's voice became loud on his phone.

"Father Mbenga? It's Micah Profitt…I'm outside the church with my cousin Celeste and her…boyfriend. We need your help right now! Please let us into the sanctuary!"

The longest seven minutes held Celeste in a vise grip as they waited for the priest to open the church doors.

"What is happening?" Father Mbenga said, swinging one of the double doors open.

Micah grabbed Celeste's hand and pulled her inside first. They turned to look at Terry.

The father of her child looked so helpless standing there with uncertainty in his eyes. Celeste wanted him with her.

"Invite him in, Father Mbenga," Celeste said with a calm and firm tone.

She didn't want to take any chances.

"Come inside, son," Father Mbenga said.

Terry took a step forward.

Celeste locked eyes with him. She clutched the priest's arm.

"I need you to say 'I invite you inside'," Celeste insisted.

Father Mbenga looked confused, but he glanced at Terry and spoke the words.

"I invite you inside the house of the Lord. Will that do?"

Terry walked across the threshold.

Nothing happened. Celeste hugged him.

"What's going on here?" Father Mbenga asked.

Micah ushered the priest past the vestibule and into the main sanctuary. Father Mbenga flicked on more lights and they moved to the front pews. Celeste sat next to Terry and Micah perched across from them in another pew. The priest stood in front of the tabernacle.

"What do you need help with?" Father Mbenga asked.

"Duchess got herself mixed up with a vampire. She's pregnant by him," Micah said matter-of-factly.

Celeste put a hand over her face.

Father Mbenga, thankfully, didn't laugh them out of the church. He stared at Terry thoughtfully and took off his glasses. Pulling a handkerchief from the pocket of his slacks, the priest wiped the lenses carefully and then placed the round glasses back on his kind face.

"Show me," Father Mbenga said.

Terry stared at the priest, doubt clouding his expression.

"Show you?" Terry said.

"Yes."

Terry glanced at Celeste, unsure. Micah jumped up and slammed his right hand into his left.

"Will you show Father Mbenga what you are?!" Micah shouted.

Celeste gripped the edge of her seat, feeling uneasy. Terry stood and faced the priest. His body blocked her view of the shorter man.

"Mother Mary…Father of God!" the priest shrieked.

Celeste lowered her head. She knew exactly what Father Mbenga experienced. The confirmation of something otherworldly brought on feelings of terror. It knocked all previously held beliefs out of whack. Father Mbenga backed away from Terry and ran to the tabernacle. He gathered himself together and slowly turned to face Terry again. He held out a six-inch gold cross.

"You are an abomination…a scourge upon the earth…." Father Mbenga said.

Terry confronted the frightened priest and took the cross from his hand, placing it back on the tabernacle.

"That doesn't do what you think," Terry said.

"But this does!" Micah shouted.

Micah rushed behind Terry and choked him with a long, silver-linked chain. The skin on Terry's neck sizzled and blistered. Celeste screamed. The odor of burning vampire flesh sickened her.

Terry fell to his knees. He grabbed the chain, but it burned his fingers and he cried out in horrible pain.

"Micah! Stop it!" she screamed.

She ran to her cousin to pull the thick, five-foot long chain off of Terry, but Father Mbenga grabbed her arms and yanked her away.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

Father Mbenga shouted at Terry.

"In the Holy Name of Jesus, I invoke the keys of St. Peter and the Church's authority…I bind each and every demon in and around Celeste Profitt and around us…in Jesus' name I bind them all, and I bind any demons supporting them, their evil leaders, and any minions of Satan…"

Father Mbenga's voice rose to a crescendo and blood drenched the silver chain slicing Terry's throat. Micah gained the upper hand and looked victorious wearing Terry down.

"Please…stop this…we came here for help to save me and my baby!"

"You won't have that vampire's baby, Duchess! It will destroy you and give these demons more evil to use!" Micah yelled.

Celeste stared at her cousin as if she'd never seen him before.

She truly hadn't.

Paralyzed with shock, Celeste could only watch helplessly as her beloved cousin tried to murder her lover.

"Micah…please…he's not what you think—"

"I tried to warn you, Duchess. Back in the Quarter, I told you to leave him alone."

Her eyes watered, and Micah's face blurred.

"My job is to spot these bloodsuckers…but you ran into his arms like a fool. Now look at 'cha," Micah panted, "Pregnant with a demon's seed."

"She's innocent," Celeste pleaded.

"She?" Micah said.

Terry slumped forward onto his stomach, weakened and damaged by the silver chain. He still breathed, but Celeste heard the gurgling of blood in his throat. Micah draped the chains around Terry's arms, binding them together behind his back.

"It's a girl," she said.

"Blasphemous," Father Mbenga spat at her.

He released her once Terry was no longer a threat. The priest had a wild look behind his glasses. Celeste knelt down near Terry.

"Get away from that unclean thing!" Father Mbenga barked.

Micah pulled her from Terry and glared at her.

"Trust me, Duchess, we know what we're doing," Micah urged.

The double doors of the church blasted open. Celeste and Micah whipped their heads toward the entrance.

The Deacon, Abai, stood at the entrance with his long black coat flared out behind him. His clan flanked him, gnashing their teeth and frustrated by the barrier. Abai's gaze stayed on Father Mbenga.

"Stupid little priest," Abai barked out. "Nothing you do will stop us from taking what we want."

Father Mbenga pointed at Abai.

"You are not welcome here! Evil cannot enter God's house without my permission."

"Celeste…dear sweet, Celeste. Invite us in and we will save our brother."

"I alone have the power to invite others into the House of God," Father Mbenga yelled with conviction.

"She is a member of this church, therefore, she too can invite us in, Father," Abai said.

Father Mbenga and Micah stared at Celeste. She could nearly smell the fear on them. Jerking away from Micah, she knelt down and tugged on the silver chain. Terry groaned. She lowered her face to his.

"Celeste, get away from here if you can…save yourself…save our baby…" he whispered in agony.

Two firm hands wrapped around Celeste's throat. Father Mbenga threw her against the tabernacle and she spun around to claw his face with her nails. He choked her again, squeezing the life from her and the baby.

"The fuck are you doing? Leave her alone!" Micah shouted.

Micah grabbed Father Mbenga's arm and yanked him away. The priest reached for his gold cross again and pulled it apart, revealing a sharp blade beneath. He stabbed Micah in the side.

"You lil bitch!" Micah said.

He staggered back and fell to his knees with blood gushing out of his abdomen. Slamming his hands over the wound, Micah glared at Father Mbenga.

"We're supposed to wait for the others to come and handle this…not attack my cousin. Are you fucking crazy?!" Micah shrieked in a weakened voice.

Celeste gasped for air and fought not to pass out. She crawled on her hands and knees toward the open entrance doors. If she couldn't trust humans not to kill her, she had to run from them it seemed.

Father Mbenga jumped on her back and circled his thick fingers around her neck once more.

"You're a filthy whore lying down with them!"

Father Mbenga banged her face against the floor as he strangled her. Celeste reached out her right hand. She could barely make out the shape of Abai standing at the entrance.

"Celeste! Say the words! Let us save you and the baby!" Abai shouted.

Abai's voice sounded stressed and, more importantly…afraid for her. Could Terry be wrong about him?

"I…I…I invite you all in…." Celeste gasped out.

The world spun into a graying darkness as she watched swift obsidian shadows whip past her. A blood-curdling scream rang out and broke off abruptly. She could breathe freely again. The soreness in her throat pounded with the rush of blood in her veins.

Micah whimpered and wept quietly behind her. She rolled over and sat up. Rubbing her neck, she waited for her eyesight to clear.

"Don't kill my cousin," she said.

Her voice came out low and almost unintelligible.

Twelve strikingly beautiful Black vampires stood around Micah and Terry. Evenly six males to six females, they all stared at the floor. Father Mbenga's lifeless body was a crumpled heap in the center of them. She knew it was lifeless because the priest's head sat ten-feet away upon the tabernacle with a look of shock on its bespeckled face, the dead mouth wide open and frozen with the final breath of life that came out a scream. Blood dripped down the side of the tabernacle in long vermillion streaks, with the bladed gold cross impaled down the center of his forehead.

Micah kept his hand jammed against his stab wound, his expression woozy from the blood loss.

Abai glanced over at her.

"Come here Celeste…free our brother from his chains," Abai demanded.

Micah shook his head at her.

"Duchess…don't help them. They want us dead! We're food to them…stay back!" Micah begged.

The vampire named Mia crouched down and dug her claws into his side, ripping Micah's wound further. His cries of pain echoed throughout the church. Mia licked his blood from her claws and stomped over to Celeste.

"The Deacon gave you a command…do it!" Mia said.

She slapped Celeste across the face, leaving another scar that would need time to heal like the last time they met. Celeste lashed out and punched Mia in her legs. Mia lifted her by the throat and held her high.

"Mia…put…her…down," Abai said.

Mia dropped Celeste to her wobbly feet and punched her in the gut, knocking a loud breath out of her. Dominique flew at Mia and shoved her face back.

"Don't you harm it. Keep your jealousy in check," Dominique hissed.

Abai reached out toward Celeste.

"Free him for us," Abai said, his tone stern.

"Promise not to hurt my cousin," Celeste said.

She rubbed her belly and the pain there almost caused her to pass out. All the other vampires except for Abai and Dominique snarled at her, their monstrous fangs gleaming from the lights inside the church.

"No harm will come to him," Abai said.

"Don't believe them, Duchess. Don't worry about me. I'm good with God…I can die in peace and receive my salvation. You won't if you listen to them," Micah said.

The unexpected loud thud on the roof forced their eyes toward the ceiling. Other loud poundings struck the roof in different places.

A large winged creature crashed through the roof and landed on top of the tabernacle. Celeste's blood ran cold and fear gripped her even more than being surrounded by a vampire clan. At least they looked somewhat human.

The thing on the tabernacle was the stuff of childhood nightmares.

A gargoyle.

Skin the color of mottled stone with horns protruding from its forehead, the monstrosity had sharp fangs just as deadly looking as the vampires. To Celeste's catholic eyes, it looked like a grotesque mockery of an angel turned inside out. No genitalia was present.

"Gadreel," Abai said, with a touch of disdain. "Still simping for God, I see. Tell me forgotten brother…do you really think the most high…the most hypocritical Lord… will let you Old Ones return to heaven once you've done your penance for ten thousand years more?"

Abai glanced at the ceiling, listening to the movement above them. He talked tough, but Celeste sensed apprehension.

"You, Arakiel, Baraqiel, Kokabeel, Danuiel, and the others…don't you get weary of being used to go against us, your equally fallen siblings?" Abai sneered.

"WISHETACHIHU ĀYITAGEŠIMI!" Gadreel shouted.

Celeste and Micah both screamed and slammed their hands over their ears, the pain from the sound of the gargoyle speaking making their eardrums bleed.

"Gadreel, there are humans here. You can't speak the language of heaven without harming their weak ears. Aren't you breaking the rules of your penance? You vowed to protect them, remember?"

Gadreel focused his attention on Celeste. His deep-set eyes looked like pewter stones.

"Leave us, human woman. There is no need for us to deal with you until that sin in your womb has been born," Gadreel said.

He spoke to her in English, his voice sounding like the creaking of giant ancient doors that should remain closed. Celeste rose to her feet and used the pews to help keep her balance with all the anxious trembling she experienced in her limbs. Her stomach churned with so much fear she thought she might puke, but she had to be strong for her baby.

She started weeping.

Keeping the baby became a top priority. Father Mbenga turning on her, calling her a whore and even her own cousin calling the little one inside her a demon seed, shored up her resolve to keep it. Her upbringing in the church taught her that God had a purpose for everything in her life. Celeste chose to have faith of a mustard seed at that moment.

Stumbling over to Terry, she dropped weakly on her knees and pulled apart the knot in the chains, freeing him from bondage. She tossed the chain on the pew and tried to lift him up. Mia pushed her away and turned Terry over.

"Terry…Terry…" Mia murmured with soothing affection.

His eyelids fluttered and opened slowly. He looked up at Mia, who stroked his hair and touched his throat that clotted with blood. The woman had love in her eyes. She kissed him on the lips. Celeste's stomach tightened.

"Duchess?" Terry said.

He pushed Mia back, his eyes darting around, looking for her. Mia snarled, her fangs wet with saliva.

"I'll fucking kill you!" Mia shrieked.

The vampire lunged at Celeste, and all hell broke loose in the sanctuary.

Faster than the human eye could follow, more gargoyles crashed through the roof all over the church. Abai and the other vampires battled the gargoyles, but Celeste could not follow their unnatural speed fully. She caught glimpses of shadows or felt dark streaks moving, like the buzzing of mosquitoes flapping past her ears when she couldn't swat them fast enough. She sensed the whooshing of air above her and witnessed pews and the tabernacle crashing to pieces, destroyed with all the tussling and tearing of flesh. Blood rained around her from the vampires and gargoyles that were injured. Crimson blood dripped everywhere along with a dark orange fluid that had to be from the gargoyle's wounds.

Under great duress, Micah crawled to her, and she helped him get on his feet. They limped together toward the double doors. She paused in her steps to rest because Micah was so heavy. Glancing back, she caught a flash sighting of Terry sprinting toward her. Gadreel flew at him with an outstretched wingspan ten-feet across and lifted Terry off the ground. Terry used his claws and razor-sharp teeth to rip chunks out of the gargoyle's shoulder. Other gargoyles flew above them, fighting vampires who kept attacking even while they were being shaken like rags back and forth high above her. The horror flying about the church looked like a hideous medieval painting of Dante's inferno come to life.

Mia leaped high into the air and landed on Gadreel's back to help Terry knock him into a wall.

"Get out of here, Celeste!" Terry screamed.

Another gargoyle grabbed Mia mid-air, ripping her face to shreds. Gadreel burst through the rafters carrying Terry, making another gaping hole in the roof.

Celeste couldn't help him.

She could only help herself and her cousin.

Turning back to the entrance doors, Celeste's blood pressure dropped, and she passed out on the floor.

Micah toppled right over her.

Chapter 14 HERE.

Masterlist.

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[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 4, day 14, I have activated super powers! Not only did my roommate take me on a surprise shopping trip to buy new boots since mine were falling apart, not only did I get them for $50 less than my budget, not only did we also do a grocery run and stay $100 under budget, but I also got a picture of a FULL RAINBOW! And now!!! NOW I HAVE ADDED MORE COLOR TO MY ART!!! I AM UNSTOPPABLE MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Well, except for the sleepy tireds and the nice rainstorm lulling me to sleep, I am unstoppable. There's also a snoozing kitty at the foot of my bed with his teeny tiny kitty nose hidden under his tail and it's the cutest fucking thing, clearly he needs cuddles, so I'ma go do that.

[cloudzoro]

Non-sexual turn ons | One Piece ♡

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small, innocent things you do that turns them on

masterlist

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

characters: law, nami, robin, zoro

genre: smut (minors dni)

cw: fem!reader, hair pulling for nami's, semi public making out/heavy petting

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Law - wearing glasses

You had hid your glasses from Law at first, worried that he would find you less attractive, but when he sees the glasses case in your room, he begs you to put them on.

You two have been relaxing in bed together, and innocent kisses quickly escalate to heavy petting. You're straddling him, rocking your hips against his. You start to think you might cum without even taking your clothes off, but Law's firm grip on your hips stops your movement.

“Can you do something for me?” he asks, leaning over to rummage in the bedside table drawer. When he pulls out your glasses case, you go to protest but he speaks before you can open your mouth

“Babe just put them on for me. I want to see them on,” he says. You haven't noticed yet, but he's already hard thinking about what you'd look like. You groan and take them from his hand.

“I don't get why you want me to put them on. It's not like I'm any hotter with them,” you say as you push them onto your face. Law goes to respond, but after seeing you in glasses he freezes. You begin to feel self-conscious because of Law's lack of response. However, you're shocked when you reach your hand up to take off your glasses, and Law shouts out ‘no’.

You're initially confused about his outburst but Law is quick to recover and pulls you in a kiss. His tongue pushes into your mouth against yours and his hands begin to wander your body. When he pulls back for air, he explains himself.

“you look so fucking sexy in those. Please let me fuck you. Can you feel how hard I am?”

Nami - red lipstick

Date night between you and Nami was always special, but this time you've decided to get ready together. The silence had been tension-filled, With both of you keeping an eye on each other as you went about your beauty routine.

You're putting your makeup on, and you've got it down to a science and move freely, stealing glances at the woman sitting next to you. You turn back to add the final touch: a red lipstick. You're so focused on getting the application right that you don't notice Nami is watching you.

As the stick glides over your lips, Nami can't take her eyes off it. The movement is simple, but it has her stomach fluttering. As soon as you finish and turn to her for approval, she pulls you into an open-mouthed kiss. The kiss smudges the lipstick and transfers onto her skin. She sees you with smudged lipstick around your perfect pout and feels her soaked panties clinging to her pussy. She has lipstick smudged on her face too, and it gives her an idea.

“Can you put some more on, baby?” she asks, handing you the lipstick tube. You nod and obey her. She watches intently, running her fingers through your hair as you put on another layer of red lipstick. Once you finish, Nami switches from playing with your hair to gripping it and pulling you towards her bare shoulder.

“wanna leave some other pretty messes on me?” she asks. You don't give a verbal response, instead deciding to attach your mouth to your lover's neck as she lets out a gasp.

Robin - standing up for yourself

Robin's favourite thing to do is observe the always loud, busy environment of the ship and her favourite subject to study is you. She keeps her eye on you as you spend some alone time on the deck, soaking in the sun.

Sanji comes out to talk to you, and your mood plummets. You and Sanji generally got along, but his comments and behaviour had been getting too much to handle recently. You try to let him down nicely, tell him to behave, but when he doesn't - and Nami's not around to smack him - you finally snap.

Robin is intrigued; she's never seen you give anyone this level of attitude. She finds herself excited by the aggressive tone of your voice, which she doesn't get to hear very often. The sharp glare you're giving Sanji as you talk him down is so sexy that Robin almost wishes it was directed at her. Sanji gets himself together and apologises when he realises that he's genuinely upset. You, still angry, just nod and storm off.

Robin follows you into the girls’ room. Nami is busy with Usopp, so the chances of being interrupted are low. When she catches up to you, she checks that you're ok before leaning down to kiss you.

“I like seeing you stand up for yourself. You're so confident. it's so hot”, she says as she pulls you towards her bed. “it makes me want to let you take charge”, she says, and it makes your skin tingle. She's usually more of a service top, but the opportunity to see your aggressive side is too good to pass up. She lies down on the bed, beckoning you to take a seat on her tongue.

“come ride my face.”

Zoro - training together

Zoro reluctantly agreed to train you after you followed him around the Sunny all day, begging him for help. You felt you needed the extra training - and being pinned down by Zoro doesn't sound like a bad use of an evening. He's the only person aboard the ship who doesn't know you like him and you want to use that fact to your advantage sometimes.

You already have the basics of fighting down due to strawhat experience so Zoro suggests going straight to sparring. Zoro is much stronger than you, and he refuses to go easy on someone he has genuine respect for. He knew that he would be pinning you down pretty frequently at first but what he didn't anticipate is how that would make feelings stir inside him that he hadn't felt towards you before.

By the fourth round, you were starting to pick up on Zoro's techniques, and Zoro was feeling relieved about that fact hoping that now he could stop adjusting his hip placement so you wouldn't feel hard cock against you when he pinned you. However, when you do finally get one over on him, you land straddling him with your ass resting just above his bulge.

You freeze above him, and he knows you've felt it. He panics at first, and he accidentally shifts his hips. The friction causes you both to moan slightly. He wants to apologise, but then notices how you're looking at him. You look desperate, like you might cry if he doesn't touch you soon.

“Do you want some help?” you ask, hovering above him. He doesn't know what to say. Are you asking if he needs help getting up or if he needs help with his erection? Zoro breathes out your name and a yes. You grind down against his crotch and bend down to kiss him.

Zoro lifts his hips to help you both and growls against your lips.

“We should go somewhere more private. Anyone could walk in on us here.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

thank you for reading! any comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated!!! ♡♡

[chuluoyi]

first ultrasound with gojo (love entries) headcanons?❤️

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 12:55 P.M 」

*sigh* why am i so weak to domestic requests... this is just a little thing i wrote in one sitting while stalling my nanami fic (and after coming back from the company retreat!) sobs, i'm going back to it i promise!! :')) this loosely takes place after daddy-to-be <3

a part of gojo's love entries

“now let us see…”

you were lying on the examination table as the ultrasound gel made contact with your still flat abdomen. the sheer coldness and the way the probe pressed hard on your skin made you wince a bit, until that discomfort was eased by a comforting squeeze of your hand, prompting you to turn your head towards the source.

your husband, gojo satoru, offered you a smile so warm it made everything else fade into the background. beyond his sunglasses was the way he always fondly looked at you, as if he was silently assuring you that he would be by your side every step of this journey.

you couldn't help but smile back at him.

“ah, here’s the baby,” your doctor gestured at the monochrome screen with a grin. “around five weeks now. it’s the size of a seed.”

a seed? your gaze fixed on the screen with a sense of wonder. honestly you couldn’t really pinpoint where your baby was, until you saw one dot that the doctor zoomed in.

and there it was—the tiny beginning of life. the product of you and your husband’s love, growing steadily inside you.

suddenly it felt so real that you were carrying a new life. your heart overflowed with warmth, swelling with emotion, and you struggled to hold back tears as your gaze shifted between the screen and satoru, who offered you a comforting pat on the head.

“hush,” he whispered softly, seemingly moved too after looking at the living testament of his baby on the screen. “don’t cry now, hmm?”

after seeing the sonogram and had it printed, both of you sat before the doctor as she instructed you to take things easy from now on, and through it all, satoru held your hand firmly in his, attentively listening to everything the doctor mentioned and even proactively asking questions in return.

“doc, she gets dizzy and nauseous easily, can you prescribe her something to make it bearable?”

“i can certainly prescribe some anti-sickness medication, but i highly recommend you to have plenty of rests and eat healthy food too to reduce morning sickness—”

“hmm, and can you recommend anything to improve sleep? she can have trouble sleeping too…”

honestly it touched you to see satoru picked up on these little things about you despite being away so often. only now did you realize that he had always been watching over you, without fail.

back at home, he sat you down on your bed, back to being a carefree clown who would draw laughs out of you.

“now, little mom,” he began, his lips already turning up into a grin as he took your hands in his, kneeling before you. “you need to listen to me very closely, okay?”

you snorted. “don't address me like that!”

“uh-oh, no squirming,” satoru warned playfully, pinching your cheeks, and you swatted his hand, holding back giggles.

oh my. just what a blissfully happy couple you were.

“first thing first, now you are to have lots of breaks and rest,” he declared, amusement melted a bit from his tone. “the doctor said so. it'll help with your nausea too. if you feel the slightest bit unwell, you have to go back and rest.”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah, yeah...”

“and no staying up late too,” he added, fixing his clear eyes on yours. “especially not for waiting for me to be home.”

that got you to clamp up. so he noticed it too, the way you would always wait for him, even at the cost of not sleeping at all. satoru never really said anything all this time, but now you knew, he was indeed worried.

once again, your chest burst with love and warmth. but still...

“can you promise me that?” satoru asked you gently, his smile still in place, but you knew the underlying command behind those words. “i'm coming back. always. i have everything i want here, with you. there's no way i'm not coming back.”

you hung onto his every word, and much like spellbound, you let go of everything and nodded.

“and now baby...”

he then shifted his focus to your tummy, gently brushing his fingers across it, and the gesture stirred something inside you, making you throb with emotion.

“you only have one job. grow big and healthy, and you can even bother mama sometimes! just don't make her too sick or i'll worry...”

somehow your vision blurred with tears, hearing how unusually earnest he was. “satoru, you're so silly.”

but as always, he would pick this moment to flip the switch, reverting back to his usual teasing.

“hmm, what's that? you're getting soft now, aren't you, mommy~?”

“...why do you have to sound like that? you're making it lewd on purpose!”

in this little world of love of yours, it was just you and him, along with the tales of your life together. you had weathered various moments side by side, and now, as you were embarking on another significant chapter with him, you were certain that everything would be alright.

satoru pulled you to the bed and smothered your head with kisses, trapping you between his strong arms. “hmm, comfy now?”

“mmm, yeah. keep cuddling me...”

and from his side, he was sure, that right now, everything had never been and felt so right than ever before—with the love of his life and future in his arms.

[bunnys-kisses]

kink-o-ween - day twelve

max verstappen - rivals

cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, ferrari driver!reader, bickering & arguing, rough sex, references to marriage and kids, , missionary

kink-o-ween: formula one edition - call of duty edition

max verstappen would rather choke on dinner than be nice to you. he'd rather never swear on the track, have his car get fully busted and never win a championship again than be nice to you.

you became his rival early on. while your fathers raced together, he never thought you'd ever end up in formula one. he could honestly remember good times together as children. playing around the garage and getting into all kinds of trouble.

but it wasn't until he saw you take your helmet off in your teens. you ahead of him by over twenty seconds, that you weren't the playful little girl you once were. you were a threat on the track which only became more apparent when you both entered formula one.

"verstappen, you shouldn't have! how did you know it was almost my birthday!" you said with fake cheer in your voice as you approached him after the dutch grand prix. you beamed at him as you said, "giving me the championship on your home track." you made a face, "you shouldn't have!"

max felt his eye twitch a little from your words. the anger that raced through his body. he wanted to put you on your knees and teach you a lesson. instead he smiled, the cameras were on him. it was his press smile, that hid a seething anger. he held out his hand and said, "congratulations."

if he had to describe how he felt about you. it would be, violent desire.

"these stupid fucking buttons." he said as he tried his best to be careful about getting all the buttons of your blouse undone, "you know you can wear t-shirts right? you don't have to dress up." he knew you did it make him angrier, as if the trophy in your hotel room wasn't enough to send the man into a seething anger.

"ah, well, max. good things come to those who wait." you carded your fingers through his short hair. and you watched his jaw tense. you yelped when he grabbed the blouse and tugged on it hard enough that the cheap buttons tore from the holes and ended up on the floor. you tried to jump back but he pulled you by the front of the shirt and pulled you in for a searing kiss.

he groaned against your lips. he didn't have time for these stupid games. he didn't have time for you to be a bitch to him. he needed you, he needed you like he needed that win.

and since he didn't get that win, he was going to get you.

when you pulled away from the kiss, you shoved him back and yelled, "my blouse you fucking prick! what am i supposed to wear when i leave?"

max shrugged, "you didn't care about being a whore before, why start now?" then got the shirt off your shoulders which exposed your top half to him. he eyed your breasts for a moment and licked his lips.

you shoved him and he grabbed you by the waist until your bodies were pressed up against one another. you looked into his blue eyes and pouted, "i'm not a slut."

max smiled a little, "i know. because i don't fuck whores. and you wouldn't let anyone else fuck you. you would never let another man touch what is mine." his smile grew as he invaded your space more.

you made a face. you wanted to tell him off, but if you lied and said you slept with other people, he'd simply call you a slut. you shoved him and started to take off your pants, eventually you stood there almost naked in his hotel room.

max licked his lips like you were prey and took off his t-shirt. you couldn't help but admire his body, you tried not to leer the way he did to you. but he knew you were looking. then like a familiar dance, you ended up on the bed.

the rest of the clothes were shed, your bra, his socks, your panties, his jeans. you even got to take his briefs off and get into bed naked with him. you nails dragged down his chest as he chuckled. he curled into you, taking you by the face and kissing you.

"this is how i like you." he said, "no like a yappy dog. under me, beautiful as always." he kissed you on the lips. it had the chance to be tender, but with max it rarely ever was.

"i bet you do. you like when women sit and down shut up." you held onto his wrists. your gazes met and you made a face at him before he pulled you in for another searing kiss.

"no, no." he replied when he pulled away from the kiss, "not all women. just you. i like when you get on your knees and shut up for a while." he pressed his forehead against yours before he kissed you once more. he heard you moan against his lips and he shuddered with excitement. you sounded beautiful.

"why? you just hate that i'm right? you hate that i'm better than you!"

max made a face at you before he grabbed you by the hips once more, "you, better than me? oh, don't make me laugh." he sneered almost. but the anger faded when the two of you started to kiss once more. you felt your heart racing in your chest.

he rubbed his hard cock up against you and you groaned a little bit. you clung to his shoulders as he inched himself inside of you. you groaned a little and max savoured your sweet sounds. you sounded perfect against him. your voice was a harmony in his brain as he moved against you.

"you will never beat me, max."

he chuckled as he pushed into your further, your legs wrapped around his waist. he really rocked into you. he said lowly with his voice rattled in your head, "i don't have to defeat you in order to win. not when i have you pinned under me. you let me fuck you, if you had it your way we'd be doing this all day."

"i'm not a whore." you snipped at him.

"i never said you were." liar, "i just know you want me. you yearn to drive, but you yearn for me more. you yearn to be better than me."

you swallowed as you clung to him further, "i am better."

he chuckled and just before he kissed you, he said, "you will be. eventually. but for now, you just look perfect under my touch. maybe if you're lucky there will be a seat beside me next year. give you some real competition."

it was an idea he had thought about before, while he was close with perez, the idea of you on the same team as him did leave him excited. you in the red bull kit, having to be nice to max in front of the cameras. it also meant less time sneaking around. you'd be as close as you could get, max could have you as much as he wanted.

"right, right. but, you'd hate it." you clawed at his shoulders, "you'd hate if you were second fiddle to me. the greatest verstappen's fall from grace."

he looked at you, his face a bit flushed. but there was a dangerous look in his eye, "you think so highly of yourself, don't you? you think you're god's gift to racing." he pressed into you further, his pace quickly picked up as soon you were pinned to him as he fucked you. he loved you because you stood toe to toe with him, and while it was never resolved over some liquor and laughs. it was even better to bully your cunt into submission.

"because i am."

he bit back, "then prove it on the track." before he kissed you once more. the bed shifted under the both of you while he fucked you heavily. he trapped you under him, your noises muffled by his lips on yours.

you could feel your heartbeat rapidly in your chest as the two of you fucked. you would forever stand toe to toe with him, you would bust his balls on the track and always take a mile when he gave you an inch.

he was your rival, and you were his. even if you both ended up in bed together more often than not. no matter how many times you spat venom at one another, it would always be resolved with passionate kisses and hot sex in other countries.

you dug your short nails into his shoulders as he continued to move against you. you breathed heavily, matching max's as the two of you fucked. he hissed a little when your held on tighter, enough to leave red lines across his pale back.

a voice in the back of your head knew that if it weren't for racing. if you two lived normal lives, attended school and had jobs. you two would probably be married. it would've been a fairytale romance, but instead you were both racers. your hearts were fueled by motor oil. and to an extent, each other.

max kissed you once more and you arched your back a little, feeling the pleasure race up your back. it felt amazing. you felt amazing. the two of you continued to move and it wasn't long before you were holding onto him tightly.

you grasped him tightly and pressed kisses on his shoulder as his pace started to stagger. you both wouldn't hold out much longer, by evidence of how you two weren't bickering.

instead replaced with heavy breathing and kissing.

"fuck, i'm cumming." he groaned soon after. you were both playing a risky game when he finished inside of you. but he kept up the pace to make you finish, even kissing at the sensitive parts of your neck and feeling you clench around him.

you came soon after him with one last searing kiss before you both relaxed against the bed. max laid on top of you for a moment and kissed at your neck. he wanted to feel the closeness of you against him.

"you're crushing me." you said before max got next to you and on the bed with his arm draped over your shoulders. in these quiet moments in hotel rooms far from home.

you felt like lovers. tomorrow you'd go back to the snide remarks the need to push one another to be the best. you two kissed one another in the comfort of a hotel room. tomorrow was another day, and that meant another race.

-

"nope!" you said with your hands on your hips.

max looked at you from his car. he was testing before the new season. he raised his eyebrows, "was my time not as good?" he looked past you to the employee of red bull racing running the testing.

you spoke for him, "testing doesn't mean running the car through the goddamn ringer!"

max rolled his eyes and got out of the car. he was in your space as he took his helmet off. putting it into the car. he was sweaty and flushed in the face.

"oh, really, mrs. verstappen? who died and made you the head engineer?" he beamed at you. the same sarcastic grin that got you into the mess you were in now.

you gave him the same smile back with a bit more sarcasm, "when you got me fucking pregnant." then stuck your tongue out at him. max grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close to him.

"i know, i know. you'll hang it over my hand until the day i die." he smiled at you before he kissed you softly on the lips. you'd always be able to get under one another's skin. that was the nature of your relationship. but now that you two were having a child, it meant that max had to race harder. win for the both of you. because just as you wouldn't expect anything less for yourself, you wouldn't expect anything less from your husband. <3

[cheeseceli]

Boyfriend Jungkook

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook X Gn!reader

Genre: fluff, headcanons

Request: can i request a headcanon of what jungkook would be like in a relationship? thank you <3

Warnings: mentions of being hit by a car (jokingly), not proofread

A/n: I miss Jungkook 😭 | fundraiser

Jimin ver.

‌He 100% fell first

‌And besides falling in love first, he also took the initiative

‌Kinda like the seven mv scenario

‌He was determined to get you to like him

‌Bro is also the embodiment of all love languages mixed, but I think he's more of a physical touch and service acts

‌I see him being very clingy, even when you're around other people

‌But specially when it's night, right before you both go to sleep

‌And also right after waking up

‌You'll be wakening up to his hugs and kisses

‌And acts of service because have you seen this man? He's always doing everything to everyone

‌You get scary dog privileges lmao

‌No creep on the street ever stares at you once they see Jungkook following you like a shadow

‌Among the boys, I think he's the one who'd get jealous the most

‌Of course, nothing too bizarre nor extreme

‌It's just that he'll immediately cling on you once he doesn't like the vibe of the person who's trying small talk with you

‌And then he does that thing with his eyes where he's just like 👁️👁️

‌Introduces you to the boys and his family as soon as he can

‌And the boys knew everything about you before even meeting you for the first time because my bro jungkook could not shut up about you for a mere second😭

‌But at least that gave them a really good first impression of you

‌If you had a good sleeping schedule before... I'm so sorry

‌It's all about going to sleep at midnight and waking up at 3 am

‌But he's trying to get better at this 😭

‌It's actually kind of sweet because he feels like he can sleep better next to you

‌There was this one time where you were extremely tired and went to bed at 7 pm and he went as well?? And he actually slept all the way through??

‌Spams your phone with texts all the time

‌In all possible social medias

‌+99 notifications on Instagram, tiktok, twitter and whatever other social media you might have

‌Also texts you the most random things through his day

‌"I almost got hit by a car would you believe it? Btw, are you still free tonight? I was thinking about going out for dinner"

‌And if you think about this in a scenario where he's an idol

‌I think he'd be able to hide your relationship for a while, but soon enough people would find out about it

‌He's just SO proud of being with you

‌And the effects of your life on his are just so obvious

‌Even if people didn't find pictures of you two together or this sort of thing, they'd still think Jungkook was dating someone

‌And the fact hybe never denied it just adds to the whole thing

‌But if people ever find out about it and then those crazy "fans" start to attack you, Jungkook is ready to sue anyone tbh

‌Sings all the time as well

‌You have exclusive serenades sung to you every day, you're that lucky!!

‌And constantly tries to impress you

‌Like yeah, you're married for 20 years now and he's still playing football like his life depends on it just because you're watching

‌Overall he's just the sweetest and most devoted bf to ever exist

Masterlist | you'll probably like: husband Chan

Thank you for reading!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @butnotmontana

Credits for images 1 2 and 3

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto

[arminsumi]

First request ever: Can you make a story about Gojo, where their both in a relationship but gojo had to end it because he was afraid that she would be in danger?

Thank you! Keep up the good work, I love your stories!!!

LET ME MARRY YOU

�� GOJO さとる + fem!reader

The risk of dating you his too much for him to handle, so he breaks it off, only for him to come back to your doorstep years later and ask: "Let me marry you."

2k

Note : istg each time i edited this... the wordcount grew lol. i hope u enjoyyy 🥹💗 tysm for enjoying my work it means everything

Warnings : angst -> fluff (?) -> happy ending trust me, Shibuya arc spoilers (Ep 9), manga spoilers (chapter 221)

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works / oct. reqs open

The risk of dating you is thrilling when Satoru's just a teenager in puppy love. But as he grows older, and heads into those dreaded 20s, the risk makes him more and more nervous.

What if something happens to you?

He presses kiss after kiss to your forehead and feels his chest tremble, feels his lips quiver, as he refrains from telling you the truth about the Jujutsu world. Satoru just can't do it.

There are so many instances of him saving you from curses that you're oblivious about. He just smiles strangely, and you wonder why he looks like he's just seen a ghost. Because he has, those pretty eyes see ghosts. But those pretty eyes also see you, "What am I looking at?" he responds after you ask why he's looking at you so tenderly, "I'm looking at my future wife." he flirts just to fluster you.

That's at the cafe, when things are still simple. He keeps thinking to himself, as he lays with you in bed some nights;

I want to marry you.

I'm going to marry you.

Please let me be your husband one day.

As if he's trying to manifest it.

Everything is okay-ish... until he gets pangs of fright when your name starts to be known outside of his closed circle of friends.

It's October 11th.

Gojo Satoru breaks up with you.

He leads you to believe that the two of you are just "right person, wrong time". It all hurts an incomprehensible amount for him, to finally cut the string that tethers the two of you together.

He sits on the stairs, head in his hands, mourning.

He starts many mornings with crying spells that last until midday.

He destroys evidence of you and him. In case anyone ever finds it and thus finds your apartment, or work, or college... or anything.

But he can't part with a very special photo. It's you and him in Okinawa, sharing a cheesy kiss at the beach. In the moment this photo was captured, Gojo remembers having whispered some dirty joke in your ear and that's why you smiled so big into his kiss.

He drifts to sleep to the lullaby lovesongs that defined your love.

Years pass, he refuses to even talk to you. The heartbreak worsens with time, he laughs when he realizes that on his 27th birthday.

Isn't time supposed to heal all wounds? Someone said that to him once. Well, they must have been lying without realizing it.

The day Gojo Satoru is sealed, he looks into Suguru's eyes, and remembers you through them. When he resides in that awful prison realm, he only thinks of you you you you you you you oh god he misses you so much that it feels like the very thought of your smile stabs his chest. Every memory is painful. Every flashback puts one more crack in his heart.

"Can't I ever catch a break...?" He laughs to himself, chattering skeletons making their eerie symphony around him.

He thinks. Ponders. Wonders. Broods. Daydreams. All about you. Always about you. Never anything else. Just his first love, from the late spring of his 17th year.

His earthly goddess.

The purpose of his benevolent actions.

He cries. And sobs. And weeps. Because no one can hear him but the skeletons and he's sure they don't mind the sight or sound of a 27 man howling in pain over a lost lover.

It's not just your relationship that he's mourning. But the fact he can't feel you in this cube... that he can't feel your presence in the world... that's worse than the heartbreak. At least through all these years, he's been able to sense your existence. Feel the subtle ripples of your soul no matter how distant you are; you'd be stood in a coffee shop, he'd be at Jujutsu High teaching, and yet feeling you.

Because as he promised to you at 17, "Half my soul is yours. And half your soul is mine. I'll always be with you even if I'm not there."

He has the biggest breakdown of his life in that little cramped suffocating claustrophobic eerie creepy box.

It's 19 days later. He's out. He's back in the world. And he feels the sense of you, your existence, swelling in his chest, tickling his mind, prodding his heart.

"Gojo sensei, where are you headed?"

"I'm gonna go find my other half." he says cryptically.

It's a stark bright day.

Gojo Satoru knocks at your apartment door.

You open it.

He looks at you, and you look at him.

"Hi."

"...hey...? Wow. Haha... you grew into your features, huh?"

Your voice fills his heart with life.

"You too... glad you still live in the same place... I was worried you might have moved out..."

"... Ah, Satoru, you'd be able to find me no matter what corner of the world I resided in."

Your laugh fills his mind with pleasant memories.

There's an a magnetism between you and him just like there always used to be. It feels like two magnets connecting at last, after feeling the distant attraction throughout all these years of distance.

"You're right." Satoru says after a silence of just staring into your eyes.

"I'll always find my way home."

A silence ensues after he says this.

"...haha... don't cry... or I'll cry..."

"... Satoru... I thought of you every day after you left me at the station."

"... me too."

"... why did you leave?"

He stares at you.

"... I was scared of you being in danger."

He gulps.

"Me? In danger? But you're the strongest, why would it matter."

Oh god that's right. You said it then when you were 17, "You're the strongest" and he carried that title with him from then. And now you've said it again. He's reminded. He feels a bit stupid. A bit ridiculous. A bit...

"You're right..." he chokes up. "I am. I could have protected you I guess..."

"... yeah, duh."

He smiles meekly.

It was more complicated than that, sweetheart. But I won't tell you.

He hesitates. He contemplates.

"I have to tell you everything... will you promise to believe everything I say even if it sounds insane?"

"Of course. What is it?"

He inhales deeply. And instead of blurting out his whole life story of being a sorcerer in the Jujutsu world, he just leans in and kisses you hard and truthfully. Cups your cheeks. Closes his eyes. Tastes you like a sweet from his childhood that he hasn't had for years. Presses to you. Takes in your scent.

Yeah yeah... he'll tell you everything in a minute.

But for now just let him kiss you until he runs out of breath.

Let him just...

"Hey..." he pulls away, gasping, "Let me marry you."

"Haha, Satoru..." you take it as a joke and laugh, because it sounds as bizarre and unexpected as one. Then you realize there's that serious look on his face. "... Satoru?"

"Can I?"

"... what?"

"Can I please?"

"... huh??"

"Can I marry you, please?"

He looks at you and waits for your answer. His poor heart. It's palpitating. His whole chest cavity inspires with love for you. This man that you haven't seen in years has just asked if you'll let him marry you — with very specific wording.

Can he? Will you let him?

It's funny in a way, because you think to yourself; this is such a Satoru thing to do... show up unannounced years later on your doorstep and ask for your hand in marriage as if no time has passed, as if you know the full story.

"Satoru... what happened to you throughout these years for you to come back to me and ask for my hand in marriage?" you ask, genuinely baffled.

He swallows slowly. "I know I sound like I've lost my mind. But I promise I haven't."

"That's hard to believe. The Satoru I remember was always on the brink of mania. A bit insane but not quite."

You make him laugh. "Yeah..."

"So are you asking to marry me out of insanity?"

"No."

"Well alright then. I guess I'll marry you."

You make him laugh again, with that funny tone. He hasn't laughed genuinely in years... it's always been that plastic laugh. But this is his genuine laugh. Silky and quiet. The opposite of his demeanor.

"I guess I should be explaining everything to you properly... before I ask you something like that."

"You're damn right..."

"... don't scold me too hard when I tell you all the reasons I left. Or, if you do, then at least hold me while you scold me. And run your fingers through my hair like you used to."

"Satoru."

"Yes?"

His heart throbs. He looks at you.

"Stop standing at the doorway and come inside."

"Oh."

You sigh. He smiles. Then he bows his head so it doesn't hit the top of the doorframe. Damn tiny Tokyo apartments. Your archway always had it out for the crown of his head. You laugh when he bumps into it just like he always used to.

So the two of you sit down and just talk. And talk. Maybe cry a bit. Actually, you cry a lot. And he holds you. And he says he's sorry. He says sorry over and over, as if the word is a bandage he's trying to wrap around all your heartbreak wounds that he caused.

"I'm sorry."

Satoru's apologies aren't easy to come by, and when you receive them, they nurse your heart. It's the gentleness with which he says it, and earnest too. Each successive sorry means more than the last.

"My angel..."

When you call him this after he vents to you about his time in the Prison Realm, and his overwhelming duty of being the strongest, he breaks down completely and just weeps in your arms.

He sobs like you've never heard him sob before, like a dog.

Finally. At least for a moment. He could be weak. Let down his guard. Be raw. Be emotional. Not a teacher. Not a sorcerer. Just your boy. Your Satoru.

Your consolation is all he wanted throughout these years. He looks up at you, eyes red and sore, nose sniffling, and stares at you like he can see your soul.

"...Satoru?"

"Marry me."

You chuckle again.

"If that will stop your tears..." you joke.

He sniffles loudly and swallows, composing himself.

"I thought about marrying you so much when we were together... 'n I tried so hard to bite my tongue when your name nearly rolled off it while talking to my students some days. I was always..."

On the verge of saying your name.

He sniffles long and hard and waits for your hand to weave into his hair.

"Will you think about it?"

"I will."

There's a silence. Satoru feels hopeful. He lays on your chest, arms around you like you're his whole world that he won't dare let go of again.

"There." you say with finality. "I thought about it. Let's get married."

"That took you, like, ten seconds."

You laugh with him. "Yeah... I already knew in my heart when you asked me at the doorway... you know... Satoru... it's funny. When you left, it felt like half my soul was gone. And when you knocked on my doorstep, it felt like I was whole again. Does that sound freaky, or does it tie into all this... Juju... Jujutsu stuff?"

He's silent.

"I have no idea."

"Wow. My future husband isn't knowledgeable at all." you joke.

His heart flutters at 'future husband'.

"Sorry." he says, smiling softly, "My mind is blank when your fingers are running through my hair."

The two of you go on and on, until you're laid in bed sleeping at each other's side. Resting. And god, did Gojo Satoru need a good rest.

In your arms, he's no longer an insomniac.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

From this poll, this series is born!

a/n: this is changing the dragons from not just mount, but to being able to shift into a human-like form at will...

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・The dragons Westeros once known (and barely understood anyway)...had started to evolve. Where once were leathery wings and two clawed legs, now stood a man. A giant of a man truly, with eyes that could pierce the soul.

・Had this been what everyone else experienced? You couldn't ask - not now, as he had flown you to a secluded patch of land, far from King's Landing ... or any kind of civilisation.

・You didn't know how to react when the transformation was complete and Balerion found a tree, and sat down against it.

・You were INCREDULOUS! Unable to look at the naked man before you; this was not how the bond was supposed to work??

"Nyke ȳdra daor pendagon ao sagon supposed naejot gaomagon bona." (I don't think you're supposed to do that…) You hissed to Balerion.

"Skorkydoso would ao gīmigon skoros nyke se am daor supposed naejot gaomagon?" (How would you know what I am and am not supposed to do?)

・You nearly screeched... Fluent in High Valyrian! He can speak and he is FLUENT!

・Your nose flared as you swung to look at him.

・That day you learnt a great deal of things. Among them was the fact that he knew the common tongue as well, was practically always hungry, and the most important thing ... you still had to wrap your head around...

・That the bond you have with Balerion isn't just rider & and mount. It's a soulbond.

・This was how they kept dragons in Valyria; through blood magic they made them human. They could stay in either form whenever they wished.

・But it also meant every few years, whoever was the dragon's rider - was also their mate. As in ... romantic mate.

・"Yn, nyke going naejot sagon married?" (But, I'm going to be married?)

"Ao emagon issare chosen hae ñuhon." (You have been chosen as mine.)

"Ondoso qilōni!" (By who!)

"Nyke iderēptan ao." (I chose you.)

・Only those that had been chosen know about this.

・It took you a while to fully come to terms with the fact that more dragons depended on your bond with Balerion.

・He gave you space.

・But only for three days.

・Then he came waltzing through your door, and took a seat in front of the fireplace. His long legs stretching, large thick arms spread against the seat's frame.

・You had been fretting in your bed, unable to sleep, only thinking and thinking. Anxiety getting the best of you.

"Come sit by the fire," he said. Balerion's voice was gravelly, at times forced - the shift still not fully easy after all these years.

"You said you would give me time to think!" You huffed into your pillow.

"I have given you time. But I wish to be with my mate. Now come."

・You rolled your eyes, flung the blanket back and grabbed your pillow. Pressing it to your chest, you skulked over to the maroon coloured seat.

・Your breath was taken straight from your body as you saw him.

・With the fireplace the only source of light, Balerion looked both an angel and a demon.

・Horns protruded from his head, the same shape as when he was a scaled beast. His red eyes found you, thick lashes blinking slowly. Tanned, olive skin seemed to gleam in the firelight.

・Balerion seemed to have hundreds of scars, but it only added to his ruggedness.

・You moved forward and sat near him, the pillow used as a barrier between you two.

・You hadn't noticed the pointed ears, or the small braids in his long hair.

・But as you looked upon him, Balerion was doing the same to you.

・He lifted his large scarred hand and held it against your cheek.

"My mate."

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Soft for exactly one person (Balerion) x Is that one person (You)

"I've made a calculated decision." (Balerion) x "Wait, you can do maths?" (You)

 Overly arrogant and flirtacious (Balerion) x Pretends To Be Unfazed, But Is Dying On The Inside (You)

 You Can't Do That! (You) x And Why Not? (Balerion)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Intertwined Destinies

Defying Expectations

Bickering and Banter

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Me and the Devil by Soap&Skin

Test Drive by John Powell

Into My Arms by the Midnite String Quartet

[shurisasthmaticgf]

oh baby he down bad: charles leclerc x black fem! reader

summary: three times when you realized you truly did have your boyfriend wrapped around your finger

warnings: crying, period mention, swearing

blog moved to @delewlew

author's note: this is the first charles fic i've written so please be kind...i hope you all enjoy it. i'm sick with covid and i was loopy on meds when i wrote this so i hope it makes sense 💀 comments and other feedback are welcome and appreciated!

whoisyn uploaded a story!

you laid in your bed curled into fetal position with your phone mere inches from your forehead. the room was dark but light enough to see half of your face as your eyes welled with tears. you rambled, "a few weeks ago when i was visiting new york i bought a bunch of takis and nerds clusters because they don't sell them over here in monaco and i went to go get a bag of both and i didn't know i ran out! i'm so upset i don't even want to settle for anything else." you wailed loudly, mixing in a few laughs at how ridiculous you probably looked but you had no shame as you hit post.

the entire day had been going pretty shit from the moment when you woke up and bled through your favorite pajamas to nearly passing out when you wanted to have a relaxing hot shower to make you feel better. now you were just laying in bed clinging to your body pillow that had lingering notes of your boyfriend's cologne. it was early in the night but your entire body felt like it was hit by a bus and you were one tylenol away from needing a stomach flush yet it didn't actually feel like it was helping. to make things worse, all you wanted was your boyfriend but he was supposed to be going out right after he got off of work.

you laid stiff in your bed in an obscure position because you found that was the only one that didn't make you feel worse. the door to your bedroom opened and your boyfriend entered wearing pajama pants and no shirt. you squinted through the dim light and mumbled, "babe? thought you were going out tonight? you had that thing." charles placed two bags of your favorite snacks onto your nightstand and responded, "i was but i found out through twitter that my girlfriend was crying at home." you turned your face away from him out of embarrassment because you were literally crying over chips and candy. he turned your chin back to him, "why didn't you call me, mon cœur?" you shrugged and reached for the bag of candy, "it wasn't that serious." he pulled you closer to him and you shifted positions so your head was against his chest. charles pressed a kiss to your forehead, "anything that bothers you is serious to me, darling. but, i am here and you have your snacks so we can watch your movie like we always do, yes?" you nodded and turned on Princess and The Frog which was one of your comfort movies since childhood.

whoisyn posted a story!

replies:

lilymhe WHP IS YOUE DEALER PLS 🙏

↳ whoisyn lemme ask charles

francisca.cgomes feel better bby <3

↳ whoisyn thank you so much ily ily ily ❤️

logansargeant i still have like 3 bags of hot cheetos and those nerds things for you from when you asked me to grab you some when i had a layover in new york

↳ whoisyn omg i forgot abt those! i'll get them next week if u bring em. ty ty.

alex_albon lily wanted me to ask you who your dealer is? she said you'd know what she meant

↳ whoisyn oh my bad pookie i forgot...but charles said he just has a stash of american snacks at his place for me. i'll bring her some next weekend tho dw ❤️

↳ alex_albon THANK YOU OMG I COULD KISS YOU RN - lily

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

you cut through one of the alleyways out of street view once you noticed someone had been recording you as you walked through the streets of monaco. most of the time you managed to sneak through the city without being spotted but today you had to make a trip to the mall where a handful of people recognized you immediately. as someone who was never in the public eye and lived as a "regular" person you were still getting used to people recognizing you and following you around. time and time again you'd gone viral for your fan responses when they asked for pictures or autographs, usually a laugh and "why, i'm not the famous one?" you were genuine with your interactions and were known for helping fans get autographs or deliver fan letters to charles at grand prix weekends. although you enjoyed this aspect of his fanbase, sometimes it was too much and you just wanted to live in peace like you used to. so you'd learned every back road and sidewalk to your shared apartment for quick escapes.

the alleyway was quiet and away from the few people that were walking and talking beside you. just as you were to round a corner you heard a soft meow. stopping dead in your tracks you looked around confused to where the sound was coming from. there was silence then another meow, and another, and another until you realized a small orange cat a few meters away was the culprit. the tiny kitten was shaking and wet in some fluid you only hoped was water, but by the smell it was definitely sewage, pipe, or garbage juice. you wrinkled your nose and held the helpless fur ball in your palm, "shit...what the fuck do i do?" the kitten nibbled on your thumb and you stretched your finger away, "don't do that i don't want rabes or whatever cats can carry." you looked over your shoulder and sighed, "well i guess i have a cat now... let's go."

once back in your apartment you put the small kitten in your bathroom tub on an old rag. the small animal meowed and mewed the entire time you rinsed it off with the only soap you had that was safe according to google. instead of drying it's fur with your blowdryer you just towel dried it which he continued meowing. you'd never had a cat and didn't know what it meant when kittens meowed so you just started rambling, "well that's so interesting you feel that way because i literally said the same thing too! like i don't even know why that would make sense because when you really think about it they always want you to think that but in reality the truth is the complete opposite of what they want you to believe." the orange kitten looked at you with its head turned to the side and you sighed, "i don't know what you want from me man i just met you." the cat meowed louder and you mumbled, "that was definitely a cuss word but i'll let it slide."

an hour later you had given the kitten a small amount of some canned tuna and it fell asleep curled into your neck against the towel you kept it wrapped in.

charles entered your apartment with his eyes on his phone as he called out, "i'm home- oh." he usually expected you to be in your room so when you were out in the main room on the sofa he was startled. you sipped from the smoothie you'd gotten from the fridge and looked up from the book you were reading, "hi baby." charles stared at the kitten on your chest then back at you, "hi beautiful." he waited for you to say anything about the new addition and when you didn't he prompted, "what do you have there?" you looked at your hand and held up the cup, "a smoothie." you took a long sip and the straw crackled loudly, "oh yeah i figured out how to make that one hailey bieber has at that overpriced place in LA. it's actually really good i see why people lost their shit over it."

your boyfriend nodded slowly and pointed to the kitten on you, "my love, please tell me why is there a cat on you." for a minute you looked at him as if he was making it up but then you realized you never got around to actually texting him what happened. he waited for you to explain because the story had to be good if you, notorious anti-pet owner, came home with a cat and let it sleep on you.

you told him while looking at the kitten, "yeah, you're a daddy now." charles replied with too much ease, "i know that you call me that but that cat does not." you looked up with an exasperated glare, "can you be serious for one minute please." charles chuckled and apologized, "okay okay you go, tell me why i am now both of your daddys." you raised your hand to throw one of the clean rags you hadn't used at him which he shielded his face from, "okay i'm sorry go ahead." as you retold the entire thing charles just stood there with a fond smile, finding the whole ordeal quite amusing. at the end of your story he reached for the kitten and pulled back his hand, "why is it slippery?" you answered, "i put coconut oil on it so it didn't get ashy." charles started laughing once more and you smacked his shoulder lightly, "hey i never had a pet besides a fish okay! i'm trying my best here." charles pulled you into a hug and pressed a kiss to your lips, "and you're going to be a great cat mom too, you've already done a good thing."

whoisyn

liked by charles_leclerc, f1, and 44,304 others

whoisyn happy birthday son to my son chisme octavius nortorious C.A.T. l/n-leclerc

view all 12, 079 comments

username1 WE THOUGHT IT WAS JUST CHISME LMAO WHY WOULD YOU NAME HIM ALL THAT-

whoisyn chisme bc if you pretend to gossip he'll immediately listen and start spilling tea too. octavius because charles said it sounded regal, and notorious C.A.T. for the culture.

↳ username2 LMAO YALL KINDA ATE NGL

charles_leclerc my two loves ❤️

username2 i need limited edition chisme x ferrari merch @/scuderiaferrari

↳ scuderiaferrari 👀

olliebearman i miss my brother

↳ whoisyn he misses you too <3

username3 i remember when y/n first found him, i can't believe he's a year old already :( he's so big now

username4 i thought charles said he wanted a dog

↳ whoisyn well i didn't find a dog, i found a cat. so we have a cat.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

the video had circulated on twitter only a few hours after it dropped and you'd noticed your name trending on the internet. after making the mistake of checking why you were trending once, you'd never really paid much attention to it again. the first time many people were shaming you for dating your boyfriend and making jabs at your physical appearance. rather quickly you realized it would be better to just keep up with silly memes your friends sent to you opposed to stalking every corner of the internet to see what people were saying about you.

this specific instance was charles in an interview and he'd mentioned you briefly while playing a game of this or that:

"do you prefer a weekend getaway to the coast for a snorkeling trip or the mountains for a skiing adventure?" the interviewer quizzed charles on his current vacation preferences. the driver asked, "is this by myself or with people?" the interviewer answered with a small smirk, "you and one other person- can be anyone, best friend, sibling, girlfriend, mom, etc." charles let out a laugh and knew what the interviewer was getting at and chose to went along with it for fan service. he thought for a moment then answered, "i think the snorkeling trip, my girlfriend likes this kind of thing with the fish, sea animals, and the diving in the water. that and she is better of a skier and snowboarder than me so..." out of the frame the interviewer laughed and joked, "a little mermaid moment, i love it."

you looked at the video and laughed when you noticed the small hello kitty band aid on his hand. earlier that week he'd gone with you out to the sea and you'd found a small cove to swim around in. somewhere along the way back charles had cut his hand on a rock and you'd put a little band aid on it from the only stash you had, and he had no complaints over the pink cartoon design. he found it cute and whenever he looked at it he was reminded of you.

whoisyn

liked by charles_leclerc, sanrio, and 53, 432 others

whoisyn oh, he look so cute wrapped around my finger 🎀

view all 12,855 comments

username1 SLIDES 5 AND 6-

alex_albon drop the link for the shirt

username2 CHARLES GOT THAT SHIT AWNNNN 😤😤😤

↳ comment pinned by creator

hellokitty we love to see this 🤩

↳ whoisyn omg pls sponsor me 😍

↳ sanrio check DM! ❤️

f1 i'd play mermaids there

↳ whoisyn we did 🤭

↳ landonorris WITHOUT ME? 😞

↳ danielricciardo X 2 💔

↳ georgerussell X 3 😪

↳ whoisyn my bad...next time we'll send a text

username3 oh baby he's down bad

username4 no way in hell she got this man in hello kitty pants after a long day of playing mermaids 💀

↳ username5 just say ur a loser who doesn't know how to have fun

comment has been liked by creator

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

the end.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Emily finds out - Spencer Reid

You rubbed your eyes with the back of your fist, watching as Spencer nodded, his phone held up to his ear. His deep morning voice - if you can even call it the morning yet - echoed in the small room as he briefly answered Hotch's words. You hit your head back against Spencer's pillow, ignoring the rustle in the room of him pulling clothes from the closet and waiting to get the same call from your boss. When your phone finally rung, you threw your hand out onto the bedside table, blindly fishing for it. You brought it back against your ear with a groan, lazily answering the call.

"We've got an urgent case, head to the office now please L/N, me and Rossi are already on it." And with that, he hung up the phone, ignoring the groan of acknowledgement you had let out. He was more brief than he had been with your boyfriend, and was clearly already getting sick of the day. You rolled on your back, watching your boyfriend pull his pants over his hips before kicking your legs over the side of his bed and leaning down to grab your trousers, mimicking Spencer's movements. You briefly glance at the clock, 4:08 am. "You should probably go, I'll take my car and follow you out once I'm ready. It'll seem suspicious otherwise." You tell him, pulling the same black top you wore the day before over your head. Spencer moves to stand between your legs and softly puts both his hands on your jaw so you can look up at him and he leans down for a quick yet sweet kiss.

He rushes out through the door obediently, looking back at you one last time to take a glance at you staring at your reflection in the mirror, trying to tame down your hair. Spencer leaves his apartment keys in the keyhole, trusting you to lock his apartment door twice and bring him the keys later. You make your way out of the apartment and into your car, parking in the basement of the building only 20 minutes later. You sigh, gathering your things and rushing up to the elevator.

No one is in the bullpen when you arrive, so you make your way to the debriefing room, hitting your hip against the doorknob when you enter. You groan, wincing, but make your way into one of the chairs around the circular table nonetheless. Of course, it's Derek who makes the first comment on your appearance when you enter. "Damn sweetheart didn't think you'd be the one to show up in last night's outfit." Spencer, who sits next to Derek, furrows his eyebrows. "What he means is she was over at someone else's having sex." Emily tries to whisper at him from across the table, but everyone hears the comment she makes and you scoff, lightly slapping her arm.

"Hey I wouldn't be if I had some earlier notice." You argue, opening the files in front of you. "I don't see anything wrong with that. Agent L/N came prepared when we asked her to and is immediately on task, unlike the rest of you. She'd have wasted our time by going home to change." Hotch's deep, usually grumpy voice comes out with a hint of amusement and you nod your head as the others go back to work with smirks on their faces.

"Jareau, catch L/N up on what she's missed - everyone wheels up in thirty." After JJ does catch you up, the room starts to file out, eventually leaving you and Spencer alone. You widen your eyes at him in amusement and he chuckles, his cheeks turning slightly redder than usual. You shuffle the chair you're in until you're sat next to your boyfriend and you press a kiss on his cheek before digging through your bag. He stands up in the meantime, thinking you've changed your focus to something else but call out for him "Spencer, wait!" He turns back to look at you and you hold out his house keys with an eyebrow raised. "Don't want Morgan finding me with those." But then not even a second later, Emily is rushing back into the room, grabbing her phone.

"My bad!" She pants, about to leave the room, but she abruptly stops upon seeing a flash of movement, and then the looks on your faces. Spencer looks like he's been caught dealing drugs and you on the other hand look surprised yet slightly amused with your eyes wide and arms still by your sides. She takes a moment to profile you, taking note of how Spencer's house keys are now in his hand, which he'd been trying to slyly shove in his pocket. She looks confused, but starts walking, muttering a quiet "After you." To Spencer before she steps in front of you, blocking the doorway.

She stares at you, her jaw slack, and slowly raises her pointer finger at you. "You- he's the- oh my gosh you have to tell me everything."

[renren-006]

Over The Years- Daryl x Fem Reader

plot: being in love with daryl through the years but he’s clueless

word count: 2639

a/n: hey! i love that you guys have been eating up my Daryl Fics soooo heres another one. this took me sooo long to write so oi hope you enjoy!!

This has been posted on AO3- Over The Years

taglist: @rosecentury

Atlanta - 1:

"you've been staring at him all day, y/n," Lori said, coming to your side. You were standing by the van, 'helping Dale,' watching Daryl do whatever he was doing in his little area. You offered to help, but the man shooed you off.

"I'm not," you told her; she gave you the mom look she gave Carl, making you cave. "okay, so what if I am?"

"Just be careful, hunny," she told you, "he's not the type to realize his or your feelings."

"I know," you told Lori. This wasn't the first of these conversations, but it was the last time someone told you to be careful.

Atlanta - 2:

"If yer trying to fish here, yer in the wrong spot," Daryl said as he came up behind you on a rock, trying to catch fish or just waste the day away.

"I figured," you told him, hitting the empty bucket you had. "I'm just…"

"Tryna' not to be bored?" He asked you. You nodded.

"You want to know how ta' catch fish?" he asked; you smiled and nodded, reeling the cast in and handing him the pol, following him to a different spot and spending the rest of the afternoon taking tips from him on fishing. If someone asked you what you learned, you could only tell them that Daryl's eyes looked almost green in the sunlight.

Farm - 1:

you saw him take his stuff and walk off; he hiked over weeds to his area a yelling distance away. Carol watched you watch the man walking away from the group's solidarity.

"he's stubborn," she commented; you nodded. You faced her, to see she was already watching you. "he's stubborn with his feelings too."

"I know. I know both those things," you told Carol; she nodded. She walked off after patting your back, knowing you knew the unsaid things in the air. You continued working around the group, keeping watch, cooking dinner, and helping with the Greene family. Maggie became a close friend of yours through the days on the farm.

Farm - 2:

"Hey," you said as you stood in the doorway. Daryl glanced up from bed, his shirt half on over his bandages.

"Hey," he said, not responding more to you entering his room.

"Just wanted to check on you."

"Dont need ya to," Daryl said, trying to hide from you more and more. You stood in the doorway still, knowing entering wouldn't go well.

"I didn't ask if you did," you told him. "I'm in the kitchen; shout if you want anything."

Part of you wanted to give more care to him, show him you cared, but you knew him well enough to know he didn't need that from you. He nodded his head at you, and you closed the door again. Then, he walked down back to the kitchen to help Maggie with lunch.

Farm - 3:

"Ya need help," Daryl asked. You were trying to get a sheet of wood up on the window to nail it shit, but you only had two hands. He came up and grabbed the wood from you, holding it up for you

"Thank you," you told him, and he grunted back at you. You finished up nailing in the panels with his help.

"You need any help?"

"Nah, I got it," he said, leaving after helping you. Things were still the same between the two of you, you thought. Daryl, however, couldn't see how he was growing to care for you.

On the road:

You never planned on getting hurt, but it just happened. You, Daryl, Glenn, and Maggie were off in a group scouting a building you had seen. Rick had made the five of you go to keep an eye on each other and get as much stuff as possible. You walked in first, knife in hand, Glenn close behind with a flashlight. Maggie and Daryl took the rear, much to Daryl's dismay.

Once you were all inside the building, you realized this used to be a Military compound, a small one, but it still had some things left inside. There was an airfield outside, probably a small compound not used for much. Once you split off from everyone, you wandered around the shelving units, finding some rations. When you didn't see the ceiling being held up by one of the shelving units and when you accidentally bumped into it, part of the roof came falling down. You yelled as part of it fell on top of you, crushing your ankle. Daryl was the first person over to you, rushing to see what was wrong.

"The roof! I didn't see," you said, grinding your teeth. Daryl stood there, eyes wide at seeing you on the floor with half the ceiling on your leg. "Daryl!" you practically yelled at him. The shock of you yelling shocked him out of his daze, and he rushed to lift the wood off your leg. Glen and Maggie rushed over soon after seeing the aftermath of the roof collapse and Daryl lifting it off you.

"What happened?" Maggie asked as she picked me up. I hobbled a bit, yelping when I put my left leg down. "Shit"

"The roof...I didn't see that it was falling, and the shelves were holding it up," you said, "I think I fucked up my ankle."

"How could ya not look?" Darly said angrily, "Now ya hurt and.."

"Hey, it's fine, Daryl. She didn't know. This could have happened to any of us," Glenn defended. "Let's look for crutches; they have to have some here. After you look around, you find some crammed in the back of a closet and leave the building. Daryl hung back with you while you were trying to walk.

"I shouldenta' yelled," Daryl said, breaking your silence. You nodded, knowing he was only trying to look after you.

"It's okay."

"Nah, it's not," he told you, stopping you from walking any further "Sorry"

"It's okay, Daryl, really. I was stupid anyway."

"Nah, coulda' happened to anyone," he said. During the rest of the walk, you had a small smile, and Daryl had a hand on your back guiding you. He didn't want you to fall again, let alone on his watch.

Prison:

The prison setting took everyone a while to settle into it; Daryl, however, took to it really fast, moving into one of the guard towers. You desperately wanted to be near him again, not only because you knew how you felt but also because he was the only person you felt truly safe around. You watched him go back to that guard station every night after dinner just outside the cell block. You turned back into your bunk at the end of the hall, far from everyone and enough privacy that you felt calm. Carol already knew about your affection for the archer and tried many times to get the two of you to sit next to each other. You moved, always, leaving the spot open for Glenn to take and talk Daryl's ear off about whatever he had found on a run that day. You took your spot next to Maggie, who silently let you watch the archer with no complaints.

That was months ago.

"Why don't you join us on the run tomorrow?" Maggie asked you, "We need to find stuff for Judith."

"Yes, I'll come."

"No, ya won't," Daryl said, walking up behind the two of you outside.

"Daryl, I'm fine. I'm going."

"Then I'm coming'" He said, glaring daggers at the two of you and going to get his bike ready.

"Ass," you muttered to him as he walked away; he didn't seem to hear you.

"He cares," Maggie said as you grabbed the bags by the upper gate. You signed, you knew that but for some reason, he had distanced himself, or maybe you had

"Whatever," you said and made your way down the path. The pickup truck was made for two, and Daryl knew that.

"Hop on," he said, riding up to you. You looked at him, and it seemed like he knew you wanted him there. You climbed on behind him and headed out with the others. The ride was quiet, but it spoke enough about the two of you that no words needed to be spoken.

Daryl and you scouted a house; all was quiet between you two. You found an unopened can of peanut butter and showed it to him, he smiled over at you.

"Who knew we'd find it," he told you, taking it from your hands.

"Guess you're my good luck charm," you told him, grabbing the can back and putting it in your bag. When you glanced back, he was looking at you. "Daryl?"

"Nah, it's nothin'," he said, snapping out of his daze. "I'm looking upstairs," he said, moving away from you and up to the tip floor. You continued rummaging through the downstairs before heading out to the porch and waiting for Daryl.

Prison:

Daryl didn't get jealous. You had never seen him that way. It was early in the morning, everyone was outside, and you were helping Carol with the food prep. One of the guys from the town you saved had a very obvious thing for you. He was younger than you, but it didn't bother him. He made a move that morning in Daryl's direct eyesight. He had come over, taking your ear off, and then he got close, trying to grab or touch you. You had stepped away, trying to tell him that you didn't see him like that and that he needed to give you space. He didn't listen. Daryl barged over and tugged the guy back from you.

"Didn't ya hear? She said to back off," Daryl said, putting himself between him and you.

"Oh, shit! Hi Daryl!" the guy said, unaware that Daryl could rip this guy to shreds. You put your hand on his bicep, feeling it flex under your touch.

"I'm fine," you told him calmly. He looked back at you, seeing that you were relieved he stopped in but worried he would rip the guy to shreds.

"Good," he said, pushing the guy back, "don't ya go near her again," the guy nodded, running off, getting the message.

On the run:

You were with Daryl and Beth, wandering around the unfamiliar world. It was a miracle that you found Beth during the invasion and even more so that Daryl made a B-line for you. When the three of you started on your journey, it was slow. Daryl watched for the two of you Until Beth was taken in the night.

"Beth!" you yelled, "Beth!"

"C'mon," Daryl said, tugging you back from the road and away from the walker's grouping. "Well, find her."

You walked after that car for miles until your feet couldn't take it, and you collapsed. Daryl wanted to drop beside you, but he couldn't.

That was when the real test of being back out in the world came. These men that Daryl didn't want to join but did anyway made your skin crawl. The way they looked at you, the way they wanted you, it made you sick. Daryl quickly understood the rules, realizing I got no say in anything in this group and was merely seen as an item for the taking.

"She's mine," He said, causing the boys upfront to look back at the two of you. You were behind Daryl, per his request. "Aint no one touching her."

"Boss! He can't do that," one yelled.

"Rules are rules," the boss said, "She's his."

Still didn't stop looking or not sleeping. Daryl noticed it; of course, he did.

There was one man both of you knew who didn't care about the rules. One night in particular proved this to Daryl and the rest of the men. He had left you no longer than a few minutes in a different direction than you out in the woods when the man sprung on you. You tried to grab your knife, but he was already prepared to stop you. You were helpless as he tried to get his way with you.

"Don't scream now," he said, with his hand over your mouth, suppressing any screams you tried to get out. You started hitting him, making him yell back in pain from it. "Crazy bitch” he said, slapping you.

"Daryl!" you yelled, scrambling to get up. The man behind you grabbed your leg, making you fall to the ground. "Daryl!" you screamed again, knowing that was your last attempt at calling for the archer. Your breath was completely knocked out of you. You heard fast-moving, crunching footsteps as the man tried to turn you over, and then, nothing. You turned, seeing an arrow between his eyes and the man falling back. You scrambled away, trying to catch your breath as Daryl jumped to hold you.

"I'm sorry," he said into your hair as you held onto him, too shoved to say a word. The world became quiet in his arms.

On the run:

The road to salvation was long. The group had been walking for days; hope was dwindling. You lagged, not having much energy for things anymore. Daryl is always stuck by your side, never leaving the comfort of your space. He had been quiet for a while, keeping his thoughts locked away. You stopped walking, alerting Daryl but not the others.

"Hey?" he asked, looking back at you and watching him.

"somethings wrong with you, and you won't tell me," you told him, matter a fact. "I know there is."

'aint nothin'"

"Nothing? Really? You haven't left my side since the…¦," you said, drifting off, not wanting to mention the near attack you had. "Since you know when I feel like I can't breathe without you worrying."

"I.."

"What is wrong?" you pressed; Maggie had seen that you had stopped and told the others to slow the pace a bit. You knew she probably understood that what was happening with the two of you needed to be talked about away from the group, so she kept them moving slowly. "I can't stand to see ya hurt anymore," he told me, knowing somethin' was on his mind. "I can't stand thinkin' somethin' happen if i leave ya"

"Daryl, that's not your responsibility," you said.

"maybe it should be," Daryl said.

"What?"

"I care about you a lot" he said, looking down, "I love ya"

The world stopped when he said those words, something he had never even said to Carol or Rick, ever or often. You took his hands in yours, making him look at you.

"I have loved you since we were on that mountain in Atlanta," you told him, "I have always loved you."

"ya have?"

"How could I not, Daryl?" you said; he smiled a bit, something you had not seen in a very long time.

"You my woman now," he told you, "you've been mine since I told those men you were."

"I'll always be yours; you never have to worry about that."

Extra:

Alexandria: (years later)

"How long have I been an idiot?" Daryl asked Carol. They were both lounging on the porch in Alexandria, watching you chase after a little brown-haired girl. She was only two, but she had spirit. You were smiling so big that Daryl felt like his heart was melting.

"You've been an idiot for as long as she's been in love with you

ain't helping" Daryl said, shoving Carol a bit.

"I think you started falling for her when we were in Prison"

"yea…your right"

"You were stubborn to let yourself feel until you almost lost her," Carol said. Daryl nodded, not wanting to admit that it took a life-or-death situation for him to truly know he couldn't ever lose you.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Let it happen - Lewis Hamilton

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Let it happen - Gracie Abrams - @alessandrahamilton

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: angst with hints of fluff (because apparently that's a favorite around here)

wordcount: +2k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

The morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and golden, the kind of light that makes you forget the world can be sharp and unkind.

I blinked, rubbing the last traces of sleep from my eyes, before the familiarity of the room tugged me back to reality.

His room. His LA house.

You’d think I’d be smarter by now. But here I am, in his bed, heart in hand, ready to offer it up like a fool for the hundredth time.

I shifted under the weight of the sheets, the scent of him clinging to the air—cologne, something clean and woodsy, mixed with that hint of soap I’ve come to know too well.

We’re really doing this again, aren’t we?

I pushed myself upright, trying not to think about how easily I fell back into the shape of his life, like I never really left.

I caught sight of his sweater thrown over by the stool, my shoes kicked off somewhere near the door, evidence of another night spent tiptoeing through familiar, dangerous territory.

The house was quiet, just the faint hum of LA outside, muffled by the walls.

Maybe I should go back to sleep and hope to wake up in the right bed this time. Maybe I should grab my stuff and sneak out before he sees me. Save myself the trouble of figuring out what this is all over again.

But I pulled on his sweater without a second thought—apparently, I wasn’t done making bad decisions.

I tiptoe my way toward the kitchen, half-expecting to find him there, making one of those post-workout protein shakes he pretends taste good. But the space is empty—spotless countertops, gleaming appliances, and a bowl of perfectly arranged avocados I’m sure he didn’t buy himself.

What am I doing here?

And it’s a good question, one I’ve asked myself a million times. What the hell am I doing, letting myself get caught up in this again?

I know how this ends. We’ve been here before. Me standing in his kitchen, wearing his clothes, convincing myself that I can handle whatever this is without losing my mind.

The house still smelled like it always did, fresh coffee and the faint scent of whatever aroma he insists on using in his humidifier.

My eyes catching on little things as I passed. Roscoe’s leash on the counter, a half-read book on the couch, my own scarf tossed carelessly over the armrest. The one from the last time I was in this house.

A reminder of the life we’d built, the one we let slip through our fingers. The one I’m trying to convince myself we can build again.

Because of course, I’m always hoping, always diving back in, like there’s some magical version of reality that won’t end with both of us in pieces.

Like I can out-stubborn heartbreak this time.

I reached the sliding door to the porch, my hand hesitating over the handle. I can see him sitting on the steps, Roscoe curled up beside him, the morning sun painting him like this ethereal soul. Peaceful. At ease.

Like he wasn’t wrestling with the same mess that tangled inside me.

His hand moved absently scratching behind Roscoe’s ears, and the sight made my chest feel too tight, too full. All at once.

I hate how much I’ve missed this. Him. Us. It’s ridiculous, really.

I should have learned by now that this is what we always do. Like we’re some kind of tragic romantic who never learn when to walk away.

I slid the door open, trying to keep quiet, but the wheels rattled against the track, betraying me.

He glanced over his shoulder, and a slow smile curved his lips when he saw me. I felt my chest squeeze at the sight, and I swear I try to ignore it.

“Hey,” he says softly, like he’s afraid of breaking the quiet. “Didn’t hear you get up.”

“Yeah, well, you were busy this handsome.” I nod towards Roscoe, who’s already trotting over to me, his body dancing like we’re old friends.

I crouch down to give him a scratch behind the ears, trying to ignore the way my chest tightens when Lewis just keeps watching me, his expression open and unguarded in a way that makes me feel like I’m on the verge of falling apart.

“You want some coffee?” he offers, lifting his mug like it’s some peace offering. “There’s more inside.”

I shrug, trying to keep my voice casual. “I’ll get some in a minute.”

He nods and looks back out at the horizon, like he’s giving me space to settle into the morning. But I don’t move. I just stand there, feeling like an outsider in a place I used to know so well.

And the worst part, I’m not even sure which of us is to blame for that.

All countless nights I spent lying awake, wondering if I’d made a mistake in letting him go. Wondering if I should’ve fought harder, stayed longer, done something other than walk away before he could hurt me.

“You okay?” His voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and I look up to find him softly watching me.

It’s a loaded question, and we both know it, but he says it like he’s genuinely hoping for a real answer.

I swallow hard, trying to find the right words. “Yeah, I’m—yeah. Just...thinking.”

He nodded, like he understood—like he always did. His gaze back to the yard, to the stretch of green that separated the house from the rest of LA, and I watched him in the quiet, studying the lines of his face in the early light.

The very ones I’d memorized, the ones I’d convinced myself I could forget.

But that would be too easy, wouldn’t it? To forget?

Because, here I am, standing on his porch in borrowed clothes, like I’m hoping that somehow, being in his space will help me figure out if this is worth the inevitable heartbreak I know is lurking, waiting for any crack.

And it’s never really been about him hurting me, has it? It’s about me letting it happen. It’s about me choosing this—choosing him—over and over again, knowing full well how the story goes.

And … I can’t seem to stop.

It would be so much easier to walk away. To pack up my things, leave before we can fall into the same patterns that broke us the first time.

To save myself from the way he looks at me like I’m the only thing that matters, only to feel it slip away when reality catches up.

But there’s something about him—about us—that keeps pulling me back. Like there’s a part of me that believes, against all logic and reason, that maybe this time will be different.

Lewis’s voice broke through my thoughts, low and even. “You know, you think too much.”

I let out a scoff that came out too breathy, too light. “Thanks for the insight, Dr. Hamilton. Real helpful.”

He chuckled, and it was the kind of sound that used to unravel me, back when we still believed we had time.

The kind that still does, deep down.

“It’s true, though. I can practically hear you thinking all the way over here.”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” I shot back, trying for a smirk, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes.

He just hummed, and the sound settled between us, comfortable, like we’d slipped back into an old rhythm. “I know. But you don’t have to figure everything out right now.”

And there it was, that knowing tone. It dug under my skin, pricking at all the places I’d tried to keep hidden.

Because of course he’d see right through me—he always did. And that’s what terrified me the most. He knew me, maybe even better than I knew myself, and that, that made it so much harder to walk away.

I found myself crossing the porch, sinking down next to Lewis. Our shoulders brushed, a familiar pull that had a hold on me, no matter how many times I tried to tell myself I was over that.

Over him.

I glanced sideways at him, catching the way the morning light softened the edges of his face. And for a moment, I let myself wonder what he saw when he looked at me.

If he saw the same girl he fell for the first time around, or just the mess I’d become since.

“What makes you think I’m trying to figure anything out?”

He shrugged, but there was a gentle smile tugging at his lips, like he didn’t need to say it. Because he could see right through my deflection.

“I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re overthinking everything. And I know that look on your face. The one when you were convinced the whole world is falling apart.”

I let out a huff, pulling my knees to my chest, resting my chin on them. The porch creaked under my movement, and I found myself focusing on the sound, anything to distract from the way he was looking at me, like I was something fragile and precious. “Yeah, well, sometimes my world feels like it’s falling apart.”

He didn’t look away, and his silence made my skin itch, like he was waiting for me to say something more. When I didn’t, he finally spoke, voice soft, but steady. “You think I don’t get it? That I haven’t replayed all the ways we could’ve made it work if we’d just... tried?”

I swallowed, the words cutting through me. “And what makes you think trying again will be any different?”

Lewis leaned back, his shoulders brushing against the wooden steps as he considered my question. His hand drifted back to Roscoe, absently scratching behind his ears.

It was a moment before he answered, his voice rough around the edges, like he’d thought about this more times than he’d ever admit. “Maybe I don’t. Maybe I don’t think it’ll be different.”

I blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. He wasn’t making promises, wasn’t offering some fairy-tale ending. He just looked at me with those steady eyes, the ones that always seemed to see right through me, right down to the parts of myself I tried to hide.

“But I do know something” he continued, and there was a weight to his words, like he was choosing them carefully. “Every time you walk away, I keep thinking, ‘What if?’ What if we just got it wrong, and we could get it right if we gave ourselves the chance?”

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to ignore the hope that his words stirred up in me. “And what if we just keep hurting each other all over again? What if we’re both just too stubborn to admit that it’s time to let go?”

Lewis turned to look at me then, his expression softer than I expected. “That’s what makes it worth trying to me. Neither of us seems to know how to really give up. Not on us. Not completely.”

I let out a shaky breath, my fingers tracing the hem of his sweater on my lap. It felt like there was a storm building in my chest, all those feelings I’d kept locked up threatening to spill out.

I didn’t know what to do with them, how to make sense of this thing between us that felt so much like a second chance and a ticking time bomb all at once.

He reached out then, his hand brushing against mine, a gentle touch that was almost like a challenge. “I’m not asking you to forget the past. I’m not even asking you to believe that we won’t mess this up again. But I am asking you to stop pretending like you don’t want this. That you don’t want me.”

And I couldn’t. Because he was right.

As much as a part of me would argue that I could, should, walk away, that I’d be better off if I just left before the inevitable hurt came crashing down, I still wanted him. Ached for him.

I met his gaze, letting him see the uncertainty, the fear, the hope that I couldn’t quite bury.

He held my gaze, unwavering. “Let’s be afraid together. One more time. Let’s make a mess of it, and figure it out as we go. Because I’m tired, too. Of pretending like I don’t want you here. Tired of acting like I don’t see a future where we get it right.”

And I knew, even if I tried to deny it, that for him, I’d hand him my life.

______________________________________________________________

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[wandagcre]

fall apart | sam carpenter 🔞

(Normal college gfs! Sam Carpenter x Fem reader)

Living with Sam is thrilling. You wore her favorite boxers and accidentally ended up teasing her. Of course, she gets her way with you.

WARNING: dom!sam, sub!reader, thigh riding, praise, degradation, daddy kink (sam), subdrop (reader), mild corruption kink, possessive sam, aftercare +18 / men & minors dni.

Words: 2.7k | [ AO3 ]

This morning had been different, there was something in the fresh air – it's promising as you woke up on Sam’s strong arms, you were snug, and she’s already pressing kisses on your face – progressing from gentle to sloppy ones just to tease you until your eyes were fully opened. Sam loved mornings like this. More so that you have a couple minutes to spare before both of you prepare for classes. She felt giddy enough to insist on being in charge of making breakfast today. 

You sit up on your bed as soon as Sam dips out of it. Unbeknownst to you, Sam can't help but sigh and stare at you lovingly. From her view, you’ve got bed hair, a little cranky expression, and wearing her old sweater - every detail is so endearing to Sam’s sight.

"What’s up with you? Am I missing an important date?" You question, voice raspy and head tilted in confusion.

Sam has a winning smile and she laughs at you. She sees your face obviously racking your head over the milestones you have with her in a span of less than a year.

"Can’t a girl be this cheesy without a reason?" Sam retorts with a hand on her hip.

"I suppose you can be," she has proven to be unpredictable for a lot of moments already. You frown at her. "You didn't eat my leftovers in the fridge, didn't you?"

"Excuse me, I do have some self-control!”

"That’s very debatable. I’m begging you to not burn the kitchen, baby."

"You had me at begging." Sam had a glint in her eye and she stuck her tongue out playfully. She chuckled when you returned it just as childish. “Are we having breakfast in bed or at the counter?" She asks.

Sam was confused by the delay in your answer, she turned around only to see you with a spreading crimson on your cheeks. She clicked her tongue at you once she understood.

Of course, you only heard “breakfast” and “counter” and then saw Sam. 

It isn’t hard to recall your activities in those areas, especially if it was only made last night.

"Perv. I'm trying to be sweet and here you are... thinking of dirty this early? Come on. Have some decorum.”

Why did you have to say that? Now you’re temporarily revoked of goodies. “Ugh. Shut up, you’re one to talk.”

The crankiness starts to appear on the surface with you rolling your eyes. Sam ended up giggling a little because God, she adores you so much and everything you do.

“Maybe you’re the one with no self-control. Don’t give me that attitude, baby.” Sam gives you a pointed look and you yield immediately, nodding your head.

“I know. Sorry. Can I… get a proper kiss?” you sheepishly say.

Sam approaches you. She tucks her loose hair behind her ear and slithers her arms around your waist. She simply held you close, not kissing you just yet.

“Mm, dunno baby, aren’t you missing something?” she moves her face closer to yours.

“Please?” 

Sam finally leans in and brushes her soft lips against yours. It was slow and gentle, different from how intense she can be sometimes. Nevertheless, you loved her just the same.

You ended up eating her special pancakes and even if you giggled at the slightly burnt edges, Sam still showered you with kisses. Both of you proceed to have a PG-13 shower and you thoroughly enjoy it. Sam continued to take care of you and you loved the sight of her bending her knees so you can reach her hair better to wash it. So far, your morning is normal. 

Until you were changing with Sam who was going through her wardrobe. You look at her amused when you see her going through every single of clothes, and her movements between confused and frantic – like she was looking for a specific thing.

“Baby! Have you seen my– oh.”

She saw you in front of the mirror, nothing with your ordinary bra and the boxers that Sam cherishes oh so much. It’s her favourite. There’s nothing special about the details, simply in the color of blue, but it's one of her most comfortable undergarments that she owned for ages. She remembers having told you in passing that she'd like to see you in these inner clothes some time, just because.

So, yes, she's more than ecstatic to be graced with this view, paired with her girlfriend's body still drying up from your shower together earlier.

“Hm?” you hum non-committedly, putting on your shirt.

You appeared so casual while Sam was losing her mind and as though you weren’t responsible for igniting the fire in her loins. She ended up coughing to cover her flustered state.

Sam shook her head, “Nothing. You look good, boxer thief.”

“Thanks!” You grin innocently at her words. You twirl around, looking and feeling the material. “It is really comfy, just like you said.”

“That’s why it’s my favorite.” Sam says, her voice going an octave lower. You still did not notice, even with her blatant staring and you only naturally nod in agreement. 

She shook her head, bearing her thoughts and decided to wear a sweatshirt, pulling it above her head and then some shorts. It was fairly breezy and Sam was easily sensitive to the cold.

It’s safe to say that you were testing her self-control now. 

More so when Sam laid to the couch, opening her notes. She was about to recompose herself, calming her breathing pattern, and begin to study in peace. Maybe she’ll watch a show with you. However, she can’t help but continue ogling at your figure. She let her eyes follow each of your moves, watching you flit with ease at the kitchen, doing the dishes from earlier. Sam had long forgotten the notes in her lap as you presented her an insanely inviting appearance of your ass.

You just had to drop low, emphasizing the curves of your ass, and she saw the way your shirt rode up as you reached the cupboard. From the distance, you hear Sam exhale sharply and this makes you turn around as you dry your wet hands.

“You okay babe?” you look at your girlfriend with concern and Sam merely hummed in response.

She ran her fingers through her dark tresses before speaking. “Babe, what’re your plans for today?” 

A part of you worried that Sam probably wanted a distraction because she knows your schedule by heart. But it could’ve been nothing too, simply wanting you to reiterate your agenda and then squeeze some time with you.

“Um, I want to watch something with you before I read later. Continue that horror movie we’ve been binge-watching, maybe?” 

Sam bounces her legs rapidly, seemingly…impatient? A deep sigh comes out of her mouth.

“Come here – sit on my lap.” She tapped on her thigh, voice stern, leaving no further questions to be asked.

Shiver ran on your spine yet you do as told, straddling one of Sam’s thighs. You hold onto the top of the couch. It felt odd – the uneven pressure felt heavy on your part and it easily pressed against your cunt. It doesn’t help that Sam’s a gym rat – meaning her muscles were defined and stern and you feel most of it even with the fabric of her boxers. 

“Wanna know my plans for today?” You see your girlfriend give you a wolfish grin as she feels you pulse. 

“Yes,” you shortly answer. 

You expressed in passing on earlier times of your relationship that you worry you might be too heavy for Sam, when she first made you sit on her lap. It was in a wholesome context then, yet even now as turned on as you were, you still cannot help but think about how you might inconvenience her.

Sam senses your troubles. She trailed her hands to hike up underneath your shirt and holding you from your lower back, then to your hips – squeezing them. Your breath hitched at her ministrations.

“I plan on doing just you, princess.” She husked out, looking at you deliberately. “This is how I want things to go: I’m gonna need you to ride my thighs and cum while wearing my boxers. You look so good in it baby. I’m losing my mind here and you’re completely unaware of it.”

“O-okay,” you respond, dumbly agreeing with ease.

“But first, I’m going to strip you out of that shirt.”

Your girlfriend tugged at the hem of the material and was painfully slow with her pace. As the shirt revealed more of your skin, her eyes suit followed, you feel as if being eaten at the intensity of her gaze alone. You sharply inhale when you feel Sam’s touch moving to your ribs then up to your breasts, palming and squeezing them. 

She smiled at your reactions – loved how easy it was to pull it out of you. 

You feel Sam much closer as she wraps her arm around you, reaching for the clasp of your bra to remove it next, and her mouth pressing wet kisses all over your shoulder.

“Beautiful.” she whispered before sucking on the skin of your neck. You moan, already feeling the angry red and purple patches she’ll leave there. “I love how your tits bounce. Not gonna spare the chance of not seeing them as you ride me while wearing my favorite boxers, baby.”

You were so lost in anticipation that you grew quiet, and so ready for her to take. Sam was more than happy to see this. She slaps your thigh out of nowhere, startling you. 

“Do it.”

Nodding, you prepare and have your hands depend on the couch to support the rest of your weight. You were less conscious but blood still rushed on your cheeks, feeling embarrassed by your position. It was your first time doing something inappropriate like this and to see Sam looking at you intensely while not exerting any other effort, made you feel so heated.

You wet your lips and sucked your breath. You finally move your hips, rolling them, albeit tentatively – testing out the waters. 

You hear Sam grunting along with your attempt at grinding on her thigh.

“Ah, sorry Sammy, I- I’ve never done… this…” you breathe out, almost finding the rhythm. You feel the cotton material of the shorts being sucked in by your cunt, folding, and the friction felt so new to you.

With your words, Sam growled possessively, her hold by your lower back and hips tightened. 

“I sure hope not. This,” Sam husks, hands more harsh this time as she firmly placed both on your hips, guiding your rolling. “is for me only. Mine alone.”

You sighed in content, nodding stupidly at Sam’s words. The breeze on your dorm did not help as it added to the pebbling of your nipples besides being so turned on.

“Yes, yes!” 

Desperately, you roll your hips more, eyes screwed shut. The fabric was melting deliciously to your liking and the wetness gushed out of you. 

Sam had her full attention to you, cherishing the view unravelling in front of her. Even with eyes closed, you can feel how she’s burning a hole with her siren eyes, staring at you. The thought made you wet as you humped her, now soaking beyond the cotton material and Sam felt it seep on the exposed part of her thighs.

“Are you sure that you didn’t plan this? To whore yourself out to me?” Sam pries, grabbing a handful of your ass and lifting it in a different angle for you to grind better. 

“No- I didn’t, just want- to be comfy,” you stutter on your words and Sam only darkly chuckled at this.

She clenched the firm muscles on her thigh. “Of course, my little innocent angel could never think that way. Look at you, right now.”

You mewl at Sam’s words, your grip only worsened as much as Sam did on your skin, feeling her fingernails deepening too. You feel your folds secreting more slick and you’re absorbed with the odd friction as you hump faster, it’s like a drug you can’t get enough of, as the rubbing is hitting your sweet spots.

Sam bit your shoulder. The sting of her teeth was raw and fresh, making you let out a throaty moan.

She plays with your pebbled nipple, tugging them with force. You groan at the simultaneous feeling while riding her and Sam had to capture your mouth agape, kissing you to oblivion.

You were glistening, moaning, so fucking desperate and it's so beautiful.

"You’re so pretty this way. Head full of nothing, just relying on me alone.”

Your hips become somewhat aimless, completely reckless with your grinding. You just wanted to cum right now.

"Babe. 'm not gonna last- if you- you keep on..."

“Keep on what? You’re the one humping so desperately at my thighs like a bitch in heat. Are you enjoying this?”

When you gave no answer and continued riding Sam’s clenched thighs, arched back, she squeezed your cheeks together.

“Answer me.” she demands with a deep voice. 

“Yes I- I love this,” you struggle to answer.

“Yes what?”

The coil on your lower stomach increased tenfold. You knew what Sam was referring to. Your clit throbbed harder. You bit your lower lip, riding her on a faster pace this time.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Sam grinned at your answer. 

“Good girl. I thought you fucked yourself too dumb already.”

It made your pussy pulse stronger and contracted rapidly and crazy against the fabric and Sam’s thighs. She sees how ruined her boxers were now, thoroughly dark and wet, marked with the damp that was caused by your arousal. The slick had spread to your inner thighs and all over Sam.  

The fact that you looked like this, made Sam so proud of herself. She has rightfully claimed you, in ways that only she could do so. She successfully had her do it in her way, too. The touch of possessiveness in the action that made Sam feel giddy on the inside. 

“God- oh my god, Daddy, I think I- I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” you moaned, gasping for air, having no shame now in how loud you could’ve been.

Your thrusts were rapid and stronger, tits wildly bouncing as you rode Sam.

She moans, white hot breath tickling against your bare skin. You felt her rubbing your lower back to comfort you.

“Let go baby. I got you – cum for Daddy.”

You felt the stimulation becoming unbearable yet so good for you. The friction did its thing as you continued to ride Sam’s continuous clenching, as your cunt did and dripped. You feel your orgasm washing over you in relief, coming out of your soaked cunt. It was like a puddle of your mess, but you can’t bring yourself to worry about it right now. You tremble at the new sensation right after you fell apart on Sam, a few tears escaping your eyes.

Sam had you in her grasp, holding you dearly.

“I got you. It’s okay, it’s okay.”

Her arm slithered to keep holding you firm to her grasp, while the other hand was tracing patterns and rubbing you in comfort. Sam’s chin was tucked on the crook of your neck. It was enough to ease you.

Finally, you move slowly to look at your girlfriend and meet her mesmerising eyes – partly heavy lidded – but what strikes you is the way her eyes crinkled by the corners. You can't help but return it warmly. 

“You did so good for me, princess.” Sam whispered as she stared at you. Her hands cupped your face and had her thumb running to the apple of your cheeks to soothe you.

You resume to your position earlier, moving closer to Sam’s embrace, letting out a gasp as your sensitive core accidentally grinded again as you moved. Sam hushed you, murmuring careful - it’s alright. You wanted to be gently rocked in a hugging position for a few minutes to which your girlfriend sighs contentedly in.

“I hope you do know that I won’t be able to get back on studying for today.” you quip at Sam and you feel her laugh vibrate against you.

“Not my fault you had to look so scrumptious in my boxers, baby.”

 

You shake your head when you feel her exhale heavily again, with her strong hands wandering back to your ass. She gives it another squeeze, although it wasn’t as harsh as she previously did.

“You are such a bad influence to me.”

“You love me. Whatever.”

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

[redsrooftopprincess]

Monster

Raphael x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Smut. 🌶️🌶️🌶️

Happy Monsterfucker Pride Month you fucking deviants. 😈 Here's a present.

There are a lot of words that come to mind to the average person upon meeting the Hamato clan. "Thing" is pretty popular, and "Freak" is always a classic, but by far Raphael's least favorite is "Monster."

That one tends to stick around, like a "Hello My Name Is" sticker, even after first meeting. The others have an easier time. Leo's the calm, cool one, Mikey doesn't need any help making friends, and Don's got that cute nerd thing going on, but Raphael is big, quiet, and Close Quarter Combat has left him with more scars than clear skin, making an already ugly situation worse.

So when he was sitting at your desk while you were hanging out one night and a notification popped up on your computer, the word caught his attention.

"What is a... 'Monsterfucker?'"

You're not sure sure if anyone has ever died from asphyxiating Dr. Pepper, but you wonder for a moment if you'll be the first.

When you can once again breathe, you look up at him raising a brow at you, "You good?"

"Yup," you croak out with a nod and a thumbs up, clearing your throat, "good."

He gives you a moment to catch your breath, "So... You gonna answer my question, or...?"

Damn. You were hoping he'd suddenly magically forget that he asked.

You've been holding off on coming clean to the guys about this particular personality quirk. You're conflicted because, while it would do wonders for their self esteem, it would more or less be the equivalent of wearing a big sign around your neck that says "HEY RAPH! I'M INTO YOU!" You're still trying to figure out how to approach him about it, and whether or not doing so would ruin an already amazing friendship.

Apparently, you aren't going to get a choice.

You clear your throat, procrastinating, and looking down at the Halloween coloring book you've been working on so you don't have to meet his eyes, "Well..." You clear your throat again, "... a Teratosexual... or... 'Monsterfucker'... is someone with more... exotic... preferences," you cringe internally.

"Exotic as in...?"

"Exotic as in... non-human." You say, making an attempt at sounding casual, suddenly very focused on the cat you're coloring.

That was not the answer he was expecting.

The longer he's quiet, the louder the heartbeat in your ears.

"So you're... not... into humans." He ventures hesitantly.

"Not generally, no..." You say, still not looking at him. Your face is burning.

"Oh..." He says, sitting back and attempting to process, "So what kind of, uh... monsters, I guess... are you, um..." He can't believe he's actually asking this question.

"Depends," you say, thankfully without your voice squeaking.

"On..."

"On... who they are as a person," you say, "just like anyone."

He's quiet again, and you resist the urge to look up at him. He's running through moment after moment with you in his head. The looks, the touches, the gentle words, all those times he kicked himself for reading too much into things...

You tense as you hear him get up and walk over to your side of the bed. the mattress dips as he sits down beside you, and a hand comes up to still the hand coloring. You look up at him, heart thundering in your ears as his thumb brushes over your wrist.

"Now, I could be way off base," he says softly, "and if I am feel free to tell me and I swear I'll never bring it up again... but sometimes I feel like you and me, we..." He takes a breath, "What are we? Friends? I mean, Donnie's your best friend, but you spend all your time with me, and... um..." He trails off.

"Is that what you want...? Friends...?" You ask, hesitantly. You're talking about it. Everything the two of you have both very purposely avoided talking about. The time, the touches. You're talking about it, making whatever the hell this is real. Which means the next words out of his mouth could either build or break you.

"Honestly, at the risk of possibly ruining the best thing that's ever happened to me... No."

"Honestly," you say, breathless, your heart doing backflips, "me either."

"So... If not friends, then... what do you want?" He asks, holding your gaze.

He watches every one of your reactions closely. Any sign of unease or discomfort and he's going to bail. But there aren't any. He's pulled to you, and he closes what little distance there is, a blush blooms across your cheeks and chest.

"Honestly..." You whisper, "you."

He inhales sharply, and looks down at you in awe for a moment, heart pounding behind his armored chest. Exhaling, he cups your face with his other hand, brushing his thumb over your jaw before sliding it back slightly and tilting your head up to him.

"You sure that this... that I'm... what you want...?" He's vibrating. Everything in him is screaming out to take you. Claim you. You're right here. You're giving yourself to him. Anyone else would have just kissed you by now. But he isn't anyone else, and this isn't exactly a normal situation. He has to be sure.

His soft caress is sending sensations rippling down your arm, and you can barely breathe for the ache in your chest. The night they met, Mikey had been injured. Badly. So badly, that they had to drop in at April and Casey's even knowing there was a stranger there.

He stood in the corner and watched you like a hawk. You were new, and new was dangerous. He watched you jump in to help Donnie with whatever he needed, eyes clear and calculating.

In the moment, you were too focused on making sure D had what he needed to save his brother's life, but the memory set your skin on fire.

"Pretty much since the beginning." You whisper, nodding.

He wastes no more time. You've wanted this as long as he has and that thought sends a surge of heat through his bloodstream. He releases your hand and slides his around your waist, pressing his lips to yours, pulling you into his lap, and as flush against him as he can. He's been dreaming of this since the moment you met.

It feels right. Natural. Like you should have been doing this all along, but the moment the hand against your cheek slides into your hair, gripping it gently, and you can feel the rumble in his chest within your own, any whispers of regret are forgotten.

All too soon, he pulls back, both of you needing a moment to catch your breath.

His forehead pressed to yours, you look up at him curiously when he starts laughing softly.

He beams down at you, "You know, on the list of shit I though was gonna happen... ever..." You smile up at him, laughing gently as well. He looks at you with elated, if not confused, eyes, "You got any idea what you're signing up for."

"Pretty sure, yeah," you grin.

They all tried so hard to be human, but it was the hardest for Raphael. Whether it was a result of his mutation, his wildly inconsistent emotional states, or some combination of the two, he was the closest of the four of them to their primal nature.

That night, and the hulking figure in the corner, like some kind of ancient sentinel watching over his charges, was a memory you had come back to so many times you're pretty sure you could recreate it perfectly, not that you would want to.

You pull back slightly to look at him, and bring your hand up to his face, cupping his cheek. You look down at his lips, brushing your thumb over his scar, you've always wondered what it felt like, "... and I think I've been handling it pretty well, so far." Your eyes meets his like the period at the end of a sentence.

Looking at you as if you were the only thing he's ever really wanted, he presses his lips to yours far less tentatively this time, growling into the kiss.

You rest your hand on the back of his head as he kisses down the curve of your throat, nuzzling against it and leaving traces of himself on you. You don't miss the significance of being marked as His and something warm and grateful fills your chest.

He works his way back to your mouth, kissing you deeply before pulling back. He looks down at you, still in almost disbelief.

"I want to see you..." He says, breathless, running a finger just under the hem of your tank top. He looks down before meeting your eyes once again, and you would shudder if you weren't pinned down by his gaze.

You smile, pulling your shirt over your head, letting it fall to the ground. You had no idea what you thought his reaction would be to finding out everything, but this was way better than you could have hoped. Gooseflesh scatters across your skin, though you're not sure if it's from the change in temperature, or the way his eyes laser focus on on every inch of you. They light your skin on fire, but he doesn't move.

"You're allowed to touch me, Raphael..." you whisper. His eyes shoot up to yours, "I want you to." He inhales sharply, fingers already tingling, he hesitates for just a moment before a calloused hand brushes tentatively over an already hardened nub, making you shiver.

His hand covers your breast and he squeezes gently, the sigh that ghosts from your lips emboldening him.

When he dips his head and captures the other in his mouth, circling with his tongue, the whimper that escapes you as your eyes fall closed is nearly his undoing.

One of your hands rests on the back of his neck, while the other guides his hand lower. As he caresses your waist, his mouth moves to your other breast, giving it the same treatment and leaving your pulse racing.

You can feel the dampness between your legs, and from the way his churr has deepened, it's evident he can smell your arousal. His fingers play at the waistband of your shorts, but no further.

"This doesn't have to go any farther than your comfortable with," you reassure him.

"It's not that, it's just..." His cheeks darken, "I'm not... um..."

"Human?" You venture, with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah..." He says before laughing softly, still not entirely able to process that this is happening, "But, I guess... that's not really a problem for you, is it?"

"Nope," you say, offering him a wicked smile which leaves him swallowing hard.

You smirk and reach up to tug at his paldron. "Feeling a little one-sided here, Red," you say looking over all the clothing and equipment he still has on.

He exhales, a permanent smile of disbelief resting in the corner of his mouth. Him. You want him. You climb off of him, laying back on the bed, and he stands. He sheds his gear and clothing as you look on hungrily, reclined on the bed like a God damn empress. His tail twitches. You aren't just letting him have you, you want him right back, and that is doing amazing things for his ego.

As he's removing the last of his clothing, he glances down at your shorts before meeting your gaze with a brow raised in expectation.

You narrow your eyes and smirk, pushing yourself up and standing beside the bed, before pushing your shorts from your hips and letting them slide to the floor. Now it's your turn to look at him expectantly as he tosses his red mask on top of his gear and takes the few steps towards you.

He looks down at you as if you're the most beautiful creature he's ever seen, and if you ask him, you are. With fabric no longer impeding, he is glutting himself on your scent and his head is swimming as it takes everything in him not to drop right there.

Your eyes roam over his body greedily, drinking him in, something you previously could only ever do in secret, and he shivers. You can't help it, you reach up a hand and hesitate for only a moment before placing it on his chest, following the labyrinthine whorls and channels in his plastron. He's cool and hard under your fingertips, and rough in many places where the keratin has been damaged.

"You know what kills me?" You ask softly, fingers tracing a particularly deep scar, "You have absolutely no idea how beautiful you are," you step forward, pressing your lips to the deep groove. You're rewarded with a sharp inhale and the rumble in his chest against your bare skin.

His hand slides around your waist and he pulls you into him as you kiss upward along the length of the scar. Your softness caresses him, and warmth pours through his shell, filling all the parts of him starved for sunlight. A deep hum reverberates inside of him when you reach the divot in the top of his pectoral scute, and kiss the scarred skin just above.

You look up at him, whispering, "Will you let me show you?"

He looks down at you, and he looks terrified. But he nods. He trusts you.

You take his hand and walk to the end of the bed. You close the door to your room, the light flashing in the full length mirror on the back of the door.

"Sit," you say with a gentle squeeze of his hand, leading him to the side of the bed facing the mirror. He does as he's told, and you climb into his lap, also facing the mirror.

You take his large hands in yours and guide him, showing him how you like to be touched. He watches your reactions to every movement closely, and it isn't long before he's confident enough to explore on his own. His fingers trail lightly down your side, following the line of your hip slowly inward. He stills, waiting to see if you're going to stop him from moving forward.

You don't.

He holds your gaze, watching your features change as his fingers slip into your folds. You gasp as he teases you slowly, and it isn't long before you're near trembling.

You're eyes fall closed, and your mouth falls open as one finger finally pushes into your soaked center. You lean back against him, whimpering as his finger curls, brushing against the soft part inside of you, before pulling out and pushing back in. He repeats the action, slowly, and again, slowly. He feels you clench around him, writhing impatiently, and looks up at the mirror.

Flush and trembling in his arms, one hand nearly covers your abdomen, the contrast of your smooth skin and his pebbled scales looking almost intentional, color and texture complimenting each other perfectly. The other continues disappearing inside of you and drawing from you the most exquisitely frustrated sounds. And it's him. He's doing all of it. His oversized, inhuman hands are creating this moment.

There is no other word for it than "beautiful..."

Your lust blown eyes open to meet his as you whimper and twist in his lap. "f-fuck..." he shudders as he drops, gripping you tighter.

The corner of your mouth turns up slightly as you meet his reflection's eyes. Trembling, he angles himself to rub against your sex, coating himself in your slick, pulling a small sound from your throat. You're already so wet and ready, and when you tilt your hips and capture his spade-tipped head, you are very grateful for that.

The burn as you stretch around him is glorious. He's bigger than you were expecting (and you were expecting), and a deep moan is pulled from you as you sink down on him slowly, your eyes falling closed.

You still once he's buried to the hilt, both of you needing a moment to adjust. When you open your eyes, his are still closed. His arms hold you tightly around the waist, and measured, trembling breaths ghost over your shoulder.

He needs a minute. This is new for him and the worst thing he can imagine right now is for this to be over before it starts. You are so soft and warm and tight, and he can feel your heartbeat pulsing in the walls around him, and if he doesn't get some kind of control, he's going to bust right here.

After a few moments, he opens his eyes, meeting yours in the mirror. His fingers find your clit again, and he strokes it slowly, groaning, his head falling back, when you clench around him.

In an involuntary search for friction, your hips rock against his and he gasps, his other hand tightening around your waist, and he's never been more grateful for years of training in meditation.

He breathes heavily for a few moments, and once he feels like he has his bearings, he holds your gaze and tightens his grip on your hips, pulling out of you slowly before pushing back in. You can feel his churr inside you and you shudder as he sheathes himself again, feeling the vibrations of his desire scatter outward from your center, leaving your fingers and toes tingling.

You move together in a slow rhythm, his eyes never leaving the mirror. He's going to remember every single second of this for the rest of his life. Whatever happens next, this is his. This moment. This feeling. He's wanted a lot of things in his life - peace, acceptance, love -, and for this one shining moment, he has all of them. For this once shining moment, he has you.

This beautiful, brilliant goddess of light and mercy is with him, wants him. You are watching him in the mirror as if he is something sacred. Divine. This broken deformation of something that isn't even a man, held in reverence, and he is filled with something indescribable.

His head falls to your shoulder with a deep moan, as a fire ignites inside of him. Not the one he's used to, there is no burning rage. No barely contained fury. This is not the fire of battle, but the fire of a forge.

Red hot iron burns in his veins as years of doubt and insecurity are boiled away. They didn't matter anymore. Every weird, unacceptable mutated turtle thing he had to deal with. Every scream of horror at his terrible visage. Your light. Your heat, is burning it away. Allowing him to make something new. He leans back, lifting you and bucking up into your harder as that heat fills him, and with every thrust, something in him is reshaping itself.

You could see it in his eyes. That fire of creation. And if you thought he was beautiful before... He holds your gaze with open purpose, unsure but ready for anything, pouring that fire into you. The catalyst of his recreation. And for the first time in his life, he feels like maybe he deserves something good.

And, Gods, you felt SO good.

He's transfixed, his hand reaching around to find your clit again, moaning as his mouth descends to your neck and shoulders. Needing to pull more of those exquisite sounds from you. Every one of them ringing through him like a struck anvil.

A smirk turns his lip as he stands, growling, and you brace against the door as he shows no signs of slowing. His large hand comes to cover yours on the door, wrapping around it. Eyes no longer fixed to the mirror, gaze downward, watching the way you stretch around him as he disappears into you, he can feel his release building as your body flexes around him.

The fire roars under your skin as his speed and strength increases, capturing every sight, sound, and scent, and tossing them back into the flames.

You're beyond language at this point, grunting and whimpering with every thrust. You can feel him in every part of you, until there is nothing left in the world but him and the burn of him filling you completely.

You can feel the pressure building as he growls low and sparks shoot up your spine, his hot breath crashing over your shoulders in waves as he is lost to you. He wraps his arm around you, leaning back and pulling you flush against him as his eyes fall shut.

You are consumed by the flames, arching against him with a cry as white fire streaks through you, the pressure breaks, and you are undone. Raphael follows with a roar, gripping you tightly as he buries himself in you. A second wave crashes over you when you feel him spill himself inside of you, your body milking him dry.

Trembling and breathing hard, you sit back and hold each other as you come down together. You meet his eyes in the mirror, and he's looking at you in reverence and gratitude, like you're his own personal miracle.

Because you are.

He wraps his arms around your waist and buries his head in your shoulder and breathes deep, pulling your scent into his lungs as he pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty. Glancing up, he watches himself drip out of you, staining the rug below. You are flush and exhausted, but smiling as your heart rate and breathing slow.

After taking a few moments to clean up. You crawl back into bed together. He slips his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

You smile up at him, happy, truly, actually happy, for the first time in... ever? That can't be right. It feels right. All you know is you've never been happy like this.

It won't last. It can't. He's too special. And now he knows he has options. "Just think, when you get bored with me, there's a whole community of people that will also find you hot." you chuckle softly. It was only a matter of time, right? You were nothing special.

His smile disappears.

How could you think...

"Y/N, I don't want anybody else." He says softly, sure.

"Raph, you haven't met anybody else." You counter.

"Fuck anybody else. Everybody else. I got it in one, and I ain't about to question that." He presses his forehead to yours.

You smile at him in patient, loving, disbelief. "Okay, Red."

He raises his head to look at you. "Want me to prove it? Fine. Give me a few years, I'll have you convinced."

This gets him a laugh. "Years?" you really like the sound of that.

You grin up at him. You really, really like the sound of that. But moments later, you cringe hard and start giggling, a clear sign that your brain has interrupted with something ridiculous. "Okay okay okay, I'm gonna say it. I have to say it... I've created a monster."

"If I'm lucky," he says. You look into his eyes as he smiles down at you, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear. "You better be prepared for me not to be able to keep my hands off you," he says with a smirk.

"Y/N..." He groans and covers his face with a pillow while you cackle.

"No wait, see? Now you can't hate that word anymore because it will remind you of sex!" You chirp delightedly.

"You can't possibly be fucking serious right now..." He says, muffled by the pillow.

The next several minutes are spent with you vehemently defending your joke, while, delightfully annoyed, he quietly admits to himself that being a Monster might not be all that bad.

...

Happy Pride Month, my Monster. I love you. ♥️

...

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins

[bambikisss]

Pillow :: B. Christopher/Chan

(Bambi's ver.!) Christopher/Chan Bang x reader

💕: friends to lovers, smut, late-night loving

📙: You're a creature of habit: you did the same thing every night. However, it seems that Chris has different plans.

⚠: Unprotected sex (always wrap it), oral (both receiving), female maturation, Chris makes a pervy comment once, use of toys, biting, Bambi's thoughts at 2 A.M.

Bambi's notes: Hello loves! I am currently having a bit of trouble when it comes to falling asleep, so I decided to write something up for you. Instead of referring to BangChan as Chan, I refer to him as Chris. If you don't like that, then feel free to substitute it with Chan. Y/N/N is your nickname.

🤍

COMMENTS + REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED AND ENCOURAGED | ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY | buy me a coffee?

You were a creature of simple habit: you went to work, you came home, showered, and then put on some slow music while you cooked and relaxed. You were known for not responding to anyone during "your time," which always seemed to annoy your friends, but you never cared. Who is going to stop you from enjoying your book and a glass of wine while your pet sat next to you?

"Y/N, come on. Just for me?"

He would.

You sighed, sitting up from your comfortable position on the couch as Chris continued to try and convince you to meet him downtown. You had already showered and ordered takeout, and you weren't fond of the idea of being out in the cold with Chris until the early hours of the morning. "No, ask Felix. You know it's my me time."

"Felix is busy," Chris whined, making you pinch your nose. You knew he didn't ask Felix to hang out, he just wanted you. And while you would usually be flattered, you had a very long day at work. All you wanted to do was try to relax and enjoy your warm evening in your apartment.

"Come on, Y/N/N, don't act like you don't miss me." Your movements paused at Chris's voice change, making your cheeks suddenly begin to heat up. You always loved it when he deepened his voice or when he teased you, using your nickname. It always made you press your thighs together to relieve the pressure you felt suddenly. At your silence, Chris took the opportunity to continue convincing you with a smirk on his lips. "I know you miss me, Y/N, just admit it. I bet that if I were to ride over there right now that you'd hop right into my passenger seat, wouldn't you?"

Yes, you would. "No, I wouldn't."

He knew you were lying. "Yeah?"

You responded with your very own cocky sounding "Yeah" before hanging up. There, now you could enjoy your evening just how you wanted to (and now with some added need for your toys).

You and Chris had this weird back-and-forth flirtation aspect in your friendship: it always starts with Chris, and then you don't back down, making the flirtation last longer. You always liked that aspect of your relationship the most, even though it made feelings complicated for him. But, those feelings could be erased with a simple orgasm from your toy and to sleep. You crawled onto your bed, laying back on the bed before you closed your eyes, your hands soon roaming your body. You gripped your breasts as you bit your bottom lip, imagining that it was Chris instead. You gasped as you pinched your nipples, making them erect through your tank top before your hands slowly moved down your thighs, teasing you as they moved up and down the inside of your thighs.

Before you could move to push down your pants and straddle your pillow, you heard your phone ring from the living room, a familiar Chase Atlantic ringtone filling your ears, ending your moment. You got up with a huff, walking to the living room to answer it.

"Chris, I already said-"

"Y/N/N." You paused at his teasing voice as if he could just see what you were just doing. There was an underlying tone in his voice that you couldn't put your finger on, though.

Was he warning you?

"I'm outside. My car is warm, my seat warmers are also on, and I have a blanket as well. There should be no excuse for you to not hurry up and get in my car so that we can hang out."

You bit your lip at his words, trying to figure out what to say back, but he beat you to it. "Y/N. Don't make me come up there and carry you down here because I will carry you on my shoulders through your busy apartment lobby, and I don't care who sees." You silently cursed at his words, fighting with the idea of him actually doing that. You took a deep breath, hanging up the phone before Chris could say anything else tossing on a hoodie and sweatpants over your current clothes before going downstairs to meet Chris at his car.

When he saw you approaching, Chris didn't hide his smirk as he leaned over to open the passenger side door for you to slip right in. You sighed at the feeling of the warm seat and car as Chris began to drive through the city. You both didn't say much; you both listened to the music on the radio while looking out at the beautiful city all lit up at night. You were secretly thankful as it allowed you to try and calm down.

Your daydream was soon interrupted by the car slowing down as Chris pulled into an empty tunnel that led to a deconstructed road. "How do you keep finding these places, Chris?" You asked, wrapping the blanket around you as you exited the car. He only shot you a proud smile at you before he set up his camera. Chris always recorded his hangouts with you in new places: you thought it was for safety, but Chris shook his head. "It's for the memories. I want to show my kids how I spent my 20s when I wasn't couped up working all the time." You smiled at the thought of Chris's kids running around his home, asking him what he was like in his 20s compared to the dad he was. Chris admired you as you smiled before holding out his hand, gently grabbing the blanket from around your body before running down the long tunnel with it, making you chase after him for the extra warmth that blanket provided.

You laughed as you and Chris ran back and forth through the tunnel before he suddenly turned around, making you run straight into his chest. Your eyes widened at the sudden situation, apologizing before trying to move from his chest. However, Chris didn't let you go; he instead wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you close to him. You looked up at him as he looked down at you, his eyes now hooded as you both stood in the tunnel.

Neither one of you spoke as your eyes roamed each other's faces as if meeting for the first time, your chest's rising and falling matching his hard chest's movements. You could feel your body heating up once more, making you want nothing more than to place your hands on his chest, run your nails down his strong chest, down to his sweatpants, and-

"Are you ready to go back?''

You jumped a bit at Chris's words, snapping from your gaze-induced haze as he slowly let you go, picking up his camera before he began to back up to the car, holding up the blanket with a triumph smirk on his lips, as if he had just won a game. You couldn't help but look down at your hands that continued to be pressed against your chest, your hands open. You must've opened them without thinking. You shook your head, snapping out of your daze before you began walking back to the warm car.

Yeah, it was time to go back.

_____________________________________________________

You sighed as you closed your bedroom door, your eyes moving to the digital clock that sat on your dresser glared the time 11:33 in bright red numbers. Once you had gotten back here, Chris begged you to let him stay the night so he didn't have to drive again. You let him stay in your guestroom, your friend instantly going to shower and get ready to sleep.

You decided to accept the opportunity of being alone to take care of your growing problem that had begun to slowly soak your panties. You bit your lip as you picked up your pillow from its discarded place on the floor, placing it back onto the bed before you removed your shorts, straddling the pillow. You gripped the top of the headboard as you began to move your hips slowly on the fabric, pleasure moving through you at every hip movement. You closed your eyes, moaning softly as you thought about the pillow being Chris instead. How he would moan so filthily while grabbing your ass and hips, helping you ride his fat cock.

You moved your hips faster, your hands moving from the headboard to cup your breasts, abusing your nipples more. You felt the knot in your stomach begin to form, making your movements go faster.

When you open your eyes, you notice that there is a lot more light in the room than when you started, making your hips instantly halt on the pillow. "Aw, but I was enjoying it."

You whipped around to see Chris leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom, wearing only a pair of boxer briefs. Your eyes flickered between his thick thighs and his face, your eyes not knowing what to focus on. Chris couldn't help but laugh at how you were reacting before letting out a small "woah there" when you rushed up from the bed to try and shut the door on him. He pressed his forearm against the door, successfully blocking it before he leaned over you, placing his other arm on the doorframe. Your eyes widened again as he looked down at you, a proud smirk on his lip as he watched your reaction; you were a prize he had just won, to him.

"What were you doing, Y/N/N?" You shivered at his teasing tone, spouting off any lie you could think of that could help you hurry this conversation along so that you could close the bedroom door and hide in the sheets forever. Chris didn't let you do that, though, moving one of his hands to cup your jaw to meet his eyes again. You didn't miss how his thumb twitched when it grazed your bottom lip or how his eyes shamelessly roamed your body as his tongue moved around his mouth. His mouth was literally watering at this point, pulling you closer by your jaw before he spoke again, this time slower and more cautious like he didn't want to say the wrong thing and lose this opportunity.

"Look, I know you know that I saw how fast you were riding that fucking pillow and I know that you didn't finish," He paused, taking a deep breath before he leaned closer, his lips now hovering over yours, his tongue gently grazing your bottom lip as he whispered out "Just this one time, I promise. Let me help you cum." You furrowed your eyebrows at his words, asking what he meant. Your words were met with a gentle scoff from his lips as he stepped forward, making you step back. Your forehead and lips continued to hover over each other as you both walked to the bed, matching his steps with a step back until your knees hit the bed. When he noticed that you both reached the bed, Chris bit his lip before pressing his chest against yours, making you both fall onto the bed with him on top of you.

Your eyes scanned his face as he cupped your face, his eyes showing his intentions: he wants to make you feel good. No words needed to be exchanged between you two as your lips met his in a soft kiss, making you moan softly. His lips were so soft and plump, which made the kiss feel even better. You ran your hands through his hair as his hands tried to rip away at your clothing, his hands becoming frantic as he tossed away any article of clothing that stood in his way of seeing you fully. Sure, Chris had seen you in bathing suits over the years, but seeing you nude on your bed for him did something to his cock.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're going to be the death of me." You didn't miss the small whine at the end of his words as he began to kiss down your face to your neck, where he licked and kissed wherever he could before moving down your body, doing the same as he kissed down your soft skin.

All the times that you had imagined Chris in your bed, laying in between your legs, you never thought you'd have the actual thing. "Did you think about this, Y/N?" You sat up on your elbows as Chris looked up at you, his hands resting at the tops of your panties, his fingers playing with the waistband. You nodded, unable to think of words as he leaned up to kiss right above your panties before he dragged his teeth down to the waistband, pulling it down with his teeth. You watched from your position on the bed as he tossed the underwear into the guestroom, which made you tilt your head. Chris didn't allow you to ask anything, though, as he immediately leaned down to press a kiss to the tops of your thighs before slowly moving to finally taste and soothe your soaked pussy.

All those nights you thought about Chris in your bed like this didn't compare to the real thing: he had your legs tightly wrapped around his head, his fingers gripping your thighs as his tongue moved in and out of your wet cunt, moaning at your taste. You could feel the vibrations coming from his mouth as he moaned praises into your mouth, praising how it felt against his lips, how good you tasted, how he should've laid you down in the backseat of his car in the tunnel earlier and ripped those pants off of you.

"Could've made it echo in that goddam tunnel, baby. Would be able to hear you all around me while I made you cum on my tongue." You moaned louder at his words, your hips moving to meet his tongue's movements as you began to practically grind against his tongue. Your orgasm snuck up on you as he pushed two of his fingers in, wet from his mouth as he curled them deep in you, making you cum. You gripped both the sheets and the bed as your back arched, your body shaking her you rested back against the bed. You closed your eyes, trying to catch your breath while Chris watched. When you did open your eyes, you thought you would be met with the morning sun, letting you know that it was all a dream. However, when you do open your eyes, you are met with Chris's eyes trained on your body as he licks his fingers and lips clean. It was now your turn to watch as he made sure that he didn't waste a thing.

When his eyes met yours, they no longer held the goal of taking care of you in them, but to absolutely take you. Chris offered you a small wink before he leaned down, placing his hands on either side of your head. "Y/N, I need you to tell me now if you want me to stop. You need to tell me before I toss off these tight-ass boxers and put you on your knees." You met his eyes, no words leaving your lips, making him groan lowly against your lips. "Fucking tell me no, baby. Say it or else I'll find a better use for that mouth of yours."

Your lack of response drove him to roughly pick you up from the bed, manhandling you as he put you on your knees in front of the window, the moon's light illuminating him as he placed his hands into your hair grabbing the chunk into his fist while his free hand freed his cock from the brief's tight embrace. You waited patiently, though, your eyes not leaving his cock as he pumped it a few times before tapping it against your tongue, letting you taste him and feel his weight on your tongue. You accepted it all as you placed your hands onto his thighs, rising from your legs a bit as his makeshift grip on you moved you closer. Your eyes moved up to meet his as his cock filled your mouth, his own eyes immediately closing as he tossed his head back at the feeling. You whimpered as he continued to push you down on his cock, making him chuckle airily before tossing his head forward to see you. "Now, come on babe. Don't act like you didn't deep-throat that pretty pink dildo I saw you had in your drawer wishing it was me. And now that you have the real thing; the heavier, the thicker, the warmer cock, you wanna act like you don't know how to take it?"

You didn't get a chance to respond as he pushed you down more on his cock until he heard you gag before releasing his grip on your hair. You stayed on your knees as Chris walked around the bed to your bedside dresser, allowing you to admire his backside in the moonlight before he turned around, approaching you once more.

"Why did you grab that?" You asked as he rounded the bed, your pink dildo he had just mentioned in one hand. "I have to get you ready to take my cock in that wet pussy of yours somehow. I don't think you could take all of me, baby without some help." You bit your lip as your eyes went to his cock that stood proudly against his abs, glistening with your saliva. You knew that you would need to prepare, but you weren't planning on doing it now.

Chris moved you to the side a bit, placing the suction part of the dildo down securely on the floor before his hand returned to your hair, grabbing a handful before moving you back over to the dildo and slowly sinking you down on it. You gasped at the feeling, your hands gripping his hips as you sunk down fully onto the pink dildo. Chris gave you a few moments to adjust before he helped you take his cock again in his mouth. You were thankful for his help as helped moved you as you began to bounce on the dildo, looking up at him as you did so.

You didn't want to miss any of his reactions as he tossed his head back and forth, not wanting to miss out on the view but also not being able to handle it. His moans grew louder as you moved faster, your hands moving from his hips to his balls, making him pull his cock from your lips instantly. You didn't get a chance to say anything as he picked you up from the dildo, tossing you onto the middle of the bed before instantly landing on top of you, his arms resting on either side of you as he kissed you deeply.

"Fuck, you looked so goddam hot. I was so close to cumming but I have to do it in you, baby." You nodded, wrapping your hips around his waist as he pressed his lips against you. The kiss started off slow, but the kiss soon sped up, showing his growing need for you as he began to grind his cock against your entrance, gathering your wetness along his cock as you both kissed. You sighed softly against his lips as he slipped his hand between you and him, grabbing his cock before pushing into you, filling you up.

Chris smirked as you moaned, your nails digging into his muscular arms as he filled you up. He was definitely bigger than your dildo, which made you glad he had you ride it before he filled you up. You began to drag your nails up his back as he pulled back from your lips, his chest now proud and puffed out as his hands gripped your hips, moving his hips to meet yours slowly. You both moaned in unison as his cock dragged along your walls, his lips moving to your neck as he moved faster.

You didn't realize that you had gotten louder until you heard the sound of something hitting the wall, making you both stop. You took the opportunity to catch your breath, realizing who it was. "That's my neighbor, Mr. Jenkins. We must be too loud." You sighed, disappointed that your night with Chris would have to end for the sake of your neighbors, but Chris had other plans.

He refused to have your first night with him end like this.

You gasped as he pulled out, roughly flipping you over to lay on your stomach before he straddled the back of your thighs. You turned around as he pushed back into you, both of your moans mixing together in the bedroom air. "What about Mr. Jenkins?"

"What about him?" Chris asked, his hand moving up your back to your hair once more before pressing your face down into your pillow, muffling your louder moans as he picked up the pace. In this position, he swore you felt even tighter and wetter, making him moan deeply. He leaned down to bite and kiss along your shoulders, leaving marks in his wake as you gripped the pillow. You were thankful that he let you keep your pillow as your moans had gotten so much louder, which would lead to you having an angry man at your door tomorrow morning. However, Chris needed more. He needs to hear how good his cock felt deep in your pussy like this.

If anything, he'll deal with the angry man tomorrow. You won't be able to walk tomorrow anyways.

You whimpered as Chris pulled you up from the pillow as he drilled his cock into you, the headboard now slamming against the wall as Chris whispered into your ear "Why don't you let Mr. Jenkins know how much you love my fucking cock? Or, does he hear you every night when you're rubbing your pretty pussy against your pillow, wishing it was me that was touching you? Fuck, I could fuck you better than that pillow or that pink fucking dildo. From now on, just call me."

You nodded, closing your eyes as your body began to shake, cumming on his cock. The feeling made Chris's cock twitch, his own orgasm hitting as he quickly pulled out, cumming all over your back and ass. You rested against the bed, feeling exhausted yet satisfied as he grabbed a tissue to clean you off with. You smiled against the pillow as he placed gentle kisses wherever he wiped, whispering compliments to you before laying next to you on the bed, pulling you close under the sheets.

"You know that you're going to have to deal with my angry neighbors tomorrow, right?" You asked as you lay on his chest, slowly drifting off to sleep as his lips pressed against your head as he chuckled. "Yes, babe, I do know. Now, let's go to sleep, it's late." You nodded, closing your eyes as his arms wrapped around your body, pressing another kiss on your forehead before saying "just call me. I'll come be your pillow for you anytime."

[writingsbychlo]

false confessions | azriel

summary; you overhear azriel say something, and try to cooperate. word count; 4595 notes; based on this ask, that I got a little carried away with!

"I love her, I really do." Az sighed, your heart swelling a little as you listened from where you were perched within the library, Nesta at your side. When you'd heard the men come in, you'd been intent on going to see your mate, but they'd been talking, Cassian had been deep into a story about him and Nesta, and your friend had been adamant about hearing it out. So, you'd let her grab your wrist, sneaking the two of you deeper into the library, hiding away between the shelves where even Azriel's shadows had not bothered to slip away and investigate. 

"But?" Rhysand prompted, your heart skipping a beat in your chest at the pause that followed, the silence seeming to drag on. 

"But... she's so clingy sometimes." Azriel exhaled the words on a breath, and Cassian snickered a little in response. "I just- sometimes I want my peace and quiet, and it just feels like whenever we're together, she's right on top of me at home, we never just.. do our own thing."

Your stomach twisted, and Nesta's fingers tightened around your wrist as she was still gripping it. All playfulness was gone, though. She let go a second later, straightening up and brushing down her skirts primly, pausing only when you grasped her in response, shaking your head. You knew that your friend would defend you to the ends of the earth if you asked, but you didn't want her to. This wasn't her problem, or anyone else's, it was yours. 

You were spinning, mind feeling like it was going a million miles an hour, the way it felt to fly home with Azriel when drunk after a night at Rita’s, while your stomach twisted the way it did the morning after said nights out. You weren’t sure where this problem had come from, up until now, you’d always thought Azriel liked the affectionate side of you, the part that just couldn't get enough of him. Clearly, that was not the case.

Your eyes tracked the movements of Azriel's shadows as they slithered out further, lazily, but inching ever closer to you and Nesta's position. Slowly, in an attempt not to get caught at all, you snuck backwards, taking her with you. Manoeuvring through the stacks, you stayed hidden, the two of you slipping out through the back exit and unseen, and in silence. 

Only once their voices had entirely faded and you were slowing your pace between the twists and turns of the corridors did Nesta finally let a loud and obscene curse slip from her lips. "I'm gonna' kick ten tons of shit out of them all."

"No." The word was icy on your tongue, and her head snapped to you, You gave a soft wince in apology. "I'm not mad at him."

"What? Why not?" 

"Because.. he's right. I am clingy, I just thought he liked that. I thought he liked when we were together, I never sensed anything otherwise down the bond, perhaps he's just good at hiding it. But, you heard him, he doesn't like it, so it's down to me to stop." You shrugged, but it didn't stop the stinging in your throat, and you slammed up walls at your end of the bond, hoping the hurt beginning to build hadn't yet leaked across to reach him. 

"What I heard," Nesta muttered, ice on her own voice as her arms crossed angrily over her chest, "was my mate chuckling his smug little ass off at the comment. Jerk. He can sleep in another bed tonight." She was equally as angry, on your behalf, and you grinned a little at the affection she displayed for you. 

"You don't have to do that."

"It's for me. He doesn't get to gossip about things like this behind my back. I wonder how many things I have done that irritate him that he's never told me, simply choosing to whine about it to those other bats." She hissed the word out like an insult, and you couldn't find fault in her logic. "I'd bet Feyre would agree."

"Would agree with what?" You both jumped, rather violently, approaching the dinner hall where said sister was sitting comfortably, a sketchbook and some charcoals out in front of herself, brows raised. Nesta didn't hesitate, stalking across the room and offering her daemati sister her hand. Brushing off charcoal on her skirt, she took it gently, gasping a second later after replaying the memory. "Those... those jerks!”

“That’s what I said!” Nesta burst, hands on her hips, and only the soft cooing of her nephew was enough to replace the scowl she wore with a slight smile. Your attention remained fixed on Feyre as she processed the covert conversation you’d secretly witnessed.

“No wonder Rhys locked me out, I didn't think much of it, boy talk, but this kind of boy talk?" She frowned, offering a sympathetic look your way, and the solidarity of your friends made you feel that much better. You rubbed your temples, swallowing again thickly, the weight of it all beginning to bring you down a little. "Fey, can you just take me home?"

"Of course, Nesta will watch Nyx for a moment, right?" His auntie was already leaning over his bassinet, tapping the tip of his nose teasingly as the baby babbled happily in return. With a hand in hers, Feyre took you home, a warm hug and a chastising word about their behaviour, her parting gift, before leaving you alone in the house belonging to you and your mate. 

The house was quiet when you were alone, the middle of the day meaning you would be alone for quite a while yet, leaving you plenty of time to decide on your course of action. You glanced around, somehow feeling out of place within your own home. It all felt.. different, somehow.

Were you mad? No, only sad, and so retaliation didn't seem fair. 

Sure, you were upset he'd talk to his friends about it rather than simply tell you, but Azriel had always struggled with 'talking about it', and had never wanted to hurt you. Emotionally inept at times, perhaps this was simply his way of trying to protect your feelings. A conversation you were never supposed to hear, a hurt you were never supposed to feel, because your mate was simply putting up with it to let you feel better. 

You couldn’t have that. This relationship wasn’t supposed to be about secret sacrifices, it was supposed to be about trust and love and mutual respect. You’d sworn it when finding out you were mates, and sworn it again at the ceremony, and you tried to hold it up every day. Azriel wanted to spare your feelings, and now, you’d spare his, too.

It was hours before he returned, and you’d found yourself slipping back into your regular routine, making everything feel normal again by sticking to what you knew. You were unloading ingredients, cooking a comfort meal for yourself, when your mate returned home.

You first caught the tell-tale sign of feet hitting the ground outside from the sky, then steps got closer and closer up the pathway, before finally, the door opening and closing.

By the time you heard him taking off his boots and hanging up his coat, you'd found it within yourself to muster a reasonably convincing smile, and shake away any lingering thoughts about it. You are doing this for Azriel, to make him happy, to love him the way he’d loved you for years, without ever telling you. Your body twitched, aching to move to him like you always did, to greet him at the door with a kiss, with a hug, with something, and you firmly rooted your feet to the ground. After a pause, clearly anticipating what you now realised was an unwanted overload of affection, Azriel left the entry, stepping through the large open-arc into the kitchen. 

"Hello, my love.." You only smiled, ignoring the curious tone in his voice, brushing your hands down the front of your apron. "What have you been up to today?"

"I saw Nesta." 

"Oh?" He paused by your side, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek, and you tipped your face to the side receiving it, but made no move for more the way you usually would. 

"She gave me a couple of new books, and said she’d return the other ones." You only hoped he simply hadn't noticed that the book pile on the coffee table had not, in fact, changed at all. He didn't glance over, and you moved away, to the food laid out ready to be prepared for dinner. 

"Are you alright, my love? You don't seem quite like yourself, tonight.”

You redirected your glance to the vegetables, only nodding in response, and taking a deep breath to force another smile. "I'm just fine, don't worry, just a little tired today."

He lingered for a second, before nodding himself, offering a smile in return, and a flush of reassuring love down the bond. You let it in, letting it warm you from the inside out. So, this is what he wanted, he had noticed and was already responding better. It was both relieving and painful. He rolled up his sleeves, taking another step closer to you. "What are we making? What can I do to help?"

"Not a thing, I've got it here, don't worry." His head shot up, brows furrowing once again, and your hand almost reached out, wishing to smooth that spot between on his face that had wrinkled with the frown. He noticed this time, the slight raise of your hand before you lowered it. 

"But, I thought you liked it when we cooked together? You said you like how I can tell you about my day, while we make dinner." It's true, you had said that, but that was just another one of the events you'd forced upon him, wasn't it? Another act where he wanted to do his own thing, but was instead beholden to your wishes.

"I do, but we don't have to cook together every night. I'm fine here, I was just in my thoughts, is all. You could tell me about your day while we eat?” A flash of hurt travelled across his face, as though you were rejecting him, and so it was your turn to send a pulse of love down the bond to him. He tugged in response, pulling a smile from you, a real one, the way it always did when he did that. 

With a kiss placed on your forehead, he left in silence a moment later. Not long after, his footsteps were on the stairs, bath filling in the bathroom, and you let out a sigh at his absence. 

He returned in time for dinner, one of his shadows had been left behind, not-so-subtly lingering near the chopping boards to monitor you, and so you'd been careful about making sure to seem positively chipper until he returned. He helped carry everything through to the table, commenting gently under his breath about how good it all looked, and you thanked him as you poured wine, letting him serve food for you both onto your respective plates. 

Taking opposite seats, the lull lasted not a full second, before Azriel was diving right into a spirited recap of his day:

"Rhysand and Cassian are in the doghouse." You almost slipped with your wine glass as you took a nerve-soothing sip, and Azriel was smirking as he chopped his chicken up, lifting a piece on his fork to his lips, awaiting your response. 

"Oh? And why is that?" You followed suit, hoping your tone didn't give it away, already knowing exactly why they were upset. All three of you had felt a little betrayed by their conversation behind your backs. 

"Not a clue. All I know is that after we finished our discussion, Nesta and Feyre wanted nothing to do with either. Rhys was all 'Feyre, darling, I was thinking we could catch dinner on the Sidra tonight, I made a reservation'," Azriel mocked his best friend's voice, and genuine laughter spilt from you, his eyes glittering a little and the bond between you humming once again. "And then Feyre said 'I was thinking I'd rather spend the evening with anyone else, right now, actually'. He was speechless. As were Cass and I." 

He was so excited to share the gossip, like it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened, and the thought that perhaps this wouldn't be so hard crossed your mind. The same Azriel, the same you, just with less.. togetherness. Less touching. Perhaps, it would even make the times together and the touches even more special than you'd always thought they were. "And Cassian?"

"Even worse. He was in the midst of laughing at Rhys' shocked face when Nesta all but removed his balls in front of us." He took a swig of his wine, and you placed a piece of chicken into your mouth, excited to hear just how she'd unleashed that anger she'd been holding when you'd last seen her. "She said, 'oh, laugh it up, bat boy. See how much you're laughing when you're laying in bed alone tonight, nothing but your right hand to keep you company'."

That made your jaw drop, Azriel's deep laughter permeating the air at your reaction, and you felt proud of your friend, even if you did feel a little bad for Cassian. That's what they get for complaining behind their mates' backs instead of being honest. 

"So, Feyre then proceeded to thank Rhysand for the reservation, take both Nyx and Nesta and winnow away without another word. Presumably to said reservation for a lovely sisterly dinner." Az shrugged, turning back to his food, and you sipped at your wine. Good for them. "When I left, Rhys and Cass were grumbling at the dinner table, trying to work out what they'd done wrong."

That sent a pang of pain shooting back through your chest, but you quickly suppressed it, beginning to tell him all about your own day, and your suddenly-made plans to go shopping instead of sitting at home with him all day tomorrow. He didn't object, only encouraged you. 

After dinner, with plates cleared away and wine glasses refilled, you'd both moved to the living room, a quiet night planned as he settled onto the couch, book in hand, opening his action-packed thriller to the page he'd left off at as you stoked the fire idly, stocking a few more logs on. 

When there was nothing more you could do to it, you stood, brushing down your skirts and leaving the room, not missing the trail of his eyes after you, or the sweep of one of his shadows, trying to curl around your ankle as you hurried through the house and up the stairs. You had planned to simply settle into bed, let your mind spin and wander, but with his watchful little trick giving you it's full-attention, you were forced to move through your preparations for bed, and follow its lead when it wrapped itself around your wrist, tugging you back downstairs. 

When you returned, Azriel's glass was empty, book still open, but his gaze was on the doorway as you walked through it. "Where'd you go?"

"I thought I'd prepare for bed before reading tonight, seeing as I'm so tired, that way I can get in bed as soon as the need arises." Your hands locked in front of yourself, and dipped his head in a gesture toward your book pile. 

"Will you sit with me and read for a while, then?"

"Of course." What were you supposed to do, say no? You were giving him space, but when he asked you to stay, who were you to deny it? Picking up the book from the top of the pile, you settled down into the large armchair on one side of the table, perpendicular to the couch Azriel sat on. As you opened your book, his snapped shut, and he let out a rough sigh. 

"What are you doing?"

"I'm reading." You teased, waving your book at him, but he was not in such a playful mood, it seemed. 

"I see that. Why are you doing it over there?"

You faltered. What now? Confess to hearing him, or continue to spare his feelings the way he had been sparing yours for years. The choice seemed clear. "Sitting closer to the fire, so I don't get cold."

"You never get cold, because you sit with me. You sit here, and if you get cold, I wrap a wing around you, and you get that cute little blush on your face and make one of those jokes about Illyrians being built warmer for those 'damn cold mountains'. So, why are you sitting over there?"

Busted. You worried your lower lip, trying to decide exactly what to say, but he beat you to it, his face crumpling a little as realisation washed over him. 

"You heard us in the library." It wasn't a question, no, it was a statement. A fact, he knew it. Your mate was far too intelligent and deductive for his own good, sometimes. He put down his book, crossing the room in a flash, and removing yours from your hold too. He slipped down to one knee before you, grasping your hands in his, and he gaped for a few moments, no words coming. "I didn't mean it," was what he settled on. 

"'Course you did, Az. It's okay." You squeezed his hands lightly, and he gripped back firmer, like you might pull away from him if he didn't hold on. "I was a little upset to know you'd rather tell your friends than simply tell me if something I was doing was bothering you, but you're allowed to be bothered by things."

"No, I didn't mean it, my love. Please, don't take it to heart." There was a pleading under his voice, like he thought this might drive a wedge between you both, and you pried one hand free to sit comfortingly over his cheek. His head tipped into the touch. 

"Az, it's okay, really. Not everything is always going to be perfect between us, but in future, if I do something you don't like, just tell me, okay?"

"No, no, no.." He was panicking now, so much so that the fear was beginning to ripple down the bond, you couldn't just hear it in his voice but feel it ricocheting through your own chest. Cold, like shards of ice. "Everything is perfect, and that is the problem. Rhys was complaining about all the changes with Nyx. About how he loves his son so much, but lately, Feyre hasn't even wanted to touch him, and she's had such mood swings because of the sleepless nights, he's frazzled. One minute she's coming onto him, the next she's snapping at him because he didn't kiss her just right. Cassian was complaining because Nesta is so fiercely independent and he loves it, but when all that overprotective side of him kicks in and she snaps at him for going full-Cass-mode on her, he hates it. He wishes sometimes she'd just let him clean her wounds and treat her gently."

You didn't know quite what to say, confusion filling you, and he pressed on, pushed a little closer, never letting your gaze slip from his, holding you captive with it.

"Then they were looking at me, like I was supposed to say something, anything. Like, they'd been vulnerable about things they couldn't tell their mates without feeling embarrassed, as though it was my turn. I couldn't think of anything, because, baby, everything is perfect. All I wanted to say was, 'can't relate, Rhysand; maybe one day but not today. Can't relate Cassian; my girl protects me as much as I protect her, we fuss over each other'. I didn't want to upset them, and I realised what they wanted was clingy, the kind of clingy we have, the kind of clingy I love. So, I tried to tell them it wasn't all it seemed, so they'd feel better."

His thumbs soothed over your knuckles, the only sounds between you being the popping of the fire and the ticking of the large clock, until you sighed. He leaned down, kissing the hand still clutched in his own, before twisting to press a kiss to the palm on his cheek before you could retract it. 

"It damn near broke my heart when you didn't greet me at the door tonight. It's my favourite part of getting up in the morning, knowing that when I come home, you'll come flying into my arms, and show me so much love, a kind of love I never thought I'd have. But you didn't, you said you were fine, though. I worried you were mad at me, too. You didn't want to cook together, I hated that, because I like being part of the things you like. You didn't kiss me, you haven't kissed me all night, I miss it. I miss it so much. You didn't hold my hand at dinner, and now you won't sit with me. I'm worried, my love. I'm scared, you have to believe me."

He raised his free hand, sitting it tenderly over your jaw, just like you did for him, swiping his thumb delicately back and forth across your cheekbone. It was an act you adored so much, something he knew brought you peace and comfort, and at this moment, it was doing just that. You could feel the fear in his words as it echoed in your chest, the desperation as he waited for your response. Lifting the hand from his cheek, his gaze tracked the movement, watching your hand hover for a split second over his head. He didn't let the half-second become a full one. He took your hand, lacing it into his hair where it had been headed, your fingernails scratching over his scalp in the soothing way he loved so much. 

"Always touch me. Never hesitate. I don't care if we're at dinner or on a battlefield, but your touch, your attention, your love is everything. Never stop." His eyes fluttered closed in bliss, but he was still tense. "Just say you forgive me."

"I do not, because there's nothing to forgive." His breath hitched at the beginning of your sentence, eyes snapping open wide, and you leaned forward to rest your forehead on his. "Next time, come up with something that's not going to hurt my feelings, even if I shouldn't be eavesdropping."

He smirked at that, nose brushing yours and he laughed breathily. "Next time, I'm just going to take the teasing and let them know how utterly fucking hard in love I am."

"Well, that works too." You smiled, before he was sitting up more, raising from his one knee and pressing his hands underneath your body. "What are you doing?"

"Moving you so we can sit together."

"I'll just come to the couch-"

"Won't be close enough, now." He muttered, scooping you up enough to settle into the wing-designed chair, and situating you sideways across his lap as your eyes rolled. He left a soft bite to your covered shoulder in response. "Don't roll your eyes at me, you had me freaking out. I thought you weren't going to forgive me. I thought you weren't going to.. to be the you that I love, anymore.."

"Yes, well, that's over now." You leaned in, kissing the tip of his nose for emphasis, but uncertain eyes found yours again.

"You mean it?"

"I do." You pressed another kiss to his jaw, fingernails moving back to rake through the thick black hair on the top of his head.

"You'll greet me at the door tomorrow with a kiss?" Mm-hm. "You'll let me cook with you?" Your lips moved up to his cheek, nuzzling there sweetly as you left little pecks across his skin, mm-hm. "You'll hold my hand at the table, and play footsie, and you'll curl up on the couch with me after?" Mm-hm, your kisses reached the corner of his mouth, and you felt it twitch into a smile underneath your lips. "You'll cuddle with me in bed tonight?"

"And every other night, for the rest of our lives." 

Something akin to adoration raced through your chest, filling every part of you. Despite his pink-tinged cheeks, Azriel was confident in his requests, hazel eyes shining as he looked at you. "And you'll kiss me, you'll hold me, every time you want to. Promise me, you'll never hide your affection from me, promise me you'll show me your love for as long as you feel it for me?"

"As long as you promise the same to me." He nodded, vehemently, sealing the deal with an urgent kiss, and you felt a tingling mark forming on the back of your neck, alongside the mating bond you'd made together so many years ago. Another promise formed, to be held forever. 

His lips worked against your own, fingers slipping from where they sat on your cheek to smooth up, no longer running his fingers gently along your jaw but tracing soft tips over the patch on your neck. His lips became a smile in the kiss, teasing and sweet, a breathy sound slipping from you as he nipped at your lower. 

“We should go upstairs.” He whispered, and your arms looped around his neck, prepared for the movement that was so come as he began to shuffle toward the edge of the seat. Raising with you in his arms, he walked a path he was familiar with, your lips beginning to trace his cheekbone the way his thumb had yours moments prior, when a sudden thought crossed your mind. You gasped, sitting up stock straight and Azriel paused at the base of the stairs, brows raising, half-lidded eyes attempting to focus at your reaction. “What is it, my love?”

“We.. we have to go and tell Nesta and Feyre we worked things out.” Azriel stared for a moment, before a blinding grin was splitting across his face. It was more than a smile, it was amused and cheeky and youthful in a way he rarely showed, only in moments like this where the two of you were truly alone, when he let himself be vulnerable. A deep chuckle followed, before he was moving again, climbing the stairs with you in his arms, smile becoming a smirk. 

“So you’re the reason my brothers are in such trouble, huh?” He leaned down, nipping at the shell of your ear as he backed his way into your bedroom, kicking the door shut behind himself. Dropping you down onto the bed, enough to be able to crawl toward you as you backed up into the pillows, he didn’t let up with the wicked stare. “Let it be, we can tell them tomorrow. Consider tonight a punishment for complaining.”

“Were you not technically part of that conversation, Az? Should you not also be punished?” Your words held no threat, and he knew it too, because he only dipped his head down once he was supporting himself above you. His lips dragged over your skin, up from your chin to the shell of your ear, only to whisper;

“Oh, I think I've been punished enough for tonight. I can come up with some much more fun things for us to do..”