#anyways! i hope you found some of these helpful

[tonycries]

Bed Chem - T.F.

Synopsis. No, you’ve never gone through a heat. No, your big bad neighbor, Toji Fushiguro, hasn’t had a rút in years. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alive when all that changes with your…bed chem.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! oméga! reader, alpha! Toji, OMÉGAVERSE AU, slight enemies-to-Iovers, rúts, breéding, MARATHONS, cúmplay, búlges, Toji is BIG, heats, face-sítting, 69, spítting, praise, oraI (f + m), knottíng, he goes FÉRAL, DÚMBIFICATION, one use of “ma’am”, fated mates, matíng bites, p talking, breaking furniture, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 9.9k (whoops)

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

“-oh! And, darling, my friend recently showed me this new serum that could-”

“-help with my…condition, huh?” You’re finishing off, teeth grit almost as hard as your fingers were around your glaring phone. “Mom- I’ve already told you that I want nothing to do with those sketchy inducers. I’d rather stay dormant like this forever.”

There’s slight static crackling from the other end of the line, “I’m just so worried for you, especially with that massive alpha-”

“Who? Wait- Toji?” You’re braving out a chuckle, gut clenching at the memory of your utterly hot new neighbor and his muscles upon drool-worthy muscles. “Y’know, the doctor has already determined that it’s impossible for me to go into my first heat now.”

And despite it all, you can’t help but drink in a deep inhale the moment you step foot into your cozy local convenience store. Only for your senses to be met with…nope. Nothing, again.

“Besides-” Fingers hovering over that angry red End button, you’re speed-walking your way as inconspicuously as possible towards the Heats and Ruts aisle. “-Toji doesn’t have ruts.”

Well… 

Nobody ever said that you weren’t a hypocrite - but, hey, you were desperate at this point. 

Even if you had to consider another one of your mom’s attempts to artificially induce your inner omega into finally putting in the work.

With your goodbyes hastily muttered, and your phone stowed deeply away into one of your pockets, you find yourself slowing down near that one particular section of the Omega shelves. Gulping at the somewhat-shady inducer portion that you found yourself familiar with ever since you’d reached late puberty without a single heat. 

It was ridiculous, but it wasn’t impossible. 

Mandatory school bloodwork revealed you to be an omega - yet, you felt like anything but that. Anything but what you supposedly were as you watched more and more of your fellow omega classmates miss out on a week or two of school to deal with their heats. 

Consoling you with pitying glances and half-hearted complaints that alpha scents were annoying anyway. But you didn’t care if the pheromones were obnoxious, and the cycles even more so.

Your months just came and went by without any of it.

You’d visited many fertility and growth doctors over the years, and not a single one had been able to pinpoint exactly what was blocking you from accessing the pheromones and biology that everyone else could. That you wanted to. 

Hell, even betas were said to have at least a faint ability to smell wafting clouds of musky perfumes.

Most professionals claimed that everything was as it should be, that you might just be dormant - a late-bloomer, if you will. A very, very late bloomer. 

A majority presented at the start of puberty, or perhaps - in only very rare, alleged cases you found on barren forums - after meeting their fated mate. Two souls bound to fill in each other’s missing pieces. 

The theory was something you let yourself indulge in guilty sips, the sort of fantasy that flashed through your mind right before you wound up with yet another heartbreak.

But after graduating college without a mere half-sign of anything to do with your second gender, you vehemently called bullshit on that one. 

Some suggested that you might merely be a beta in disguise. It was almost comforting to think that it might have all been one big mix-up, yet, every medical test after medical test you’d done always came out the same. 

An omega.

“Damn second genders.” You’re grumbling, traitorously curious fingerpads skimming over the sterile boxes of medicines with official-sounding names. You’d tried out a few with the least amount of side-effects before, and it always ended up being a waste of your time (and your paycheck.) “Damn- damn inducers-”

CLACK!

In your reveried haste a few unstable boxes of products found themselves plonking onto the ground. Wincing at the withering glare of the manager unhelpfully peeking in from a few aisles down, you urgently dropped to your knees to put them back-

“Damn, what did those scented lotions do to you? Remind me not to get on your bad side, doll.” 

You see him before you hear him - strong, engulfing hands motioning into your field of vision to dexterously grab at the mess you’d created. 

And then once you hear him it isn’t any better, because you could recognize that richly rumbling baritone anywhere. 

“Wha-” Cutting your own self off with a strangled mess of a yelp the moment your furrowed gaze looks with viridescent eyes. “-oh.”

Oh? Oh?

Toji Fushiguro quirks up one brow in a way that is unfairly attractive, sultry scar engraved onto one side of his sleazy grin tilting up ever-so-slightly. And was that- a dimple? “Heh- n’ the pretty girl says oh. Cat got your tongue, sugar?”

It’s only then that you’re realizing that this was the first time you’d ever been so…close with the man himself. 

Usually settling for grumbling conversations from your doorstep and incoherent text conversations from his toddling, cherub-faced son stealing Toji’s phone.

So ah, there was one thing you’d forgotten to mention to your mother. Sure, you might have let it slip that Toji was…ruggedly handsome - all Herculean physique, a glossy black Harley Davidson bike, and long legs that carried him well over six feet - but you’d always omitted one thing. 

He was just so cocky.

And you can already feel your blood curdling strangely in your veins, scoffing out a heated puff of breath. “Nah, more like the alpha in the Omega section is.” Darting your eyes anywhere but at the strain of Toji’s sinful compression shirt sneaking winking at you underneath his leather jacket, practically painted onto the ridges of his washboard abs. “Thinkin’ of a secondary gender change, Toji?”

“Ah, yeah yeah-” He’s rolling those hooded eyes, leaning in so pointedly close that you can practically feel his slow, seeping look up and down. “-got tired of havin’ cute lil’ omegas falling all over f’me.”

You scramble to finally stand, “You wish.”

The bout of husky snickers that escape from him make your thighs squeeze together, and Toji’s promptly following you to place back all those fallen lotions. “‘Course I do. That n’ the brat is out on a trip with his lil’ pink-haired friend, m’just killing time.” Tilting his head at you, “You? Thinking of going for alpha? Or…” Crossing his big, beefy forearms, and he must know the effect that has on you and your greedily ogling eyes. “-an alph-”

“Just this.” You’re cutting him off before Toji could fray at your sanity even more, holding up that heat-inducing serum your mother had mentioned. 

But, oh.

Oh.

That wasn’t the expression you’d expected on the handsome face of Toji Fushiguro. Maybe something more smug, perhaps even amused as he realized your little predicament- but never this.

Eyes stony, sharp jaw clenching with a jumpy little tick. And Toji’s fingers are so thick when they pluck the box cleanly off your hands, the split-second graze of his burning skin making you feel almost feverish.

“This trash? Yer takin-” He’s glaring down at the serum as if it had offended him personally five times over. Something about the utter look of discontent makes your chest burn, “-this trash?”

You find yourself defensive, ���N-no. At least, not yet. What about it-”

“Because s’gonna ruin your inner workings that’s what.” And for all the world, you never expected to be getting lectured by Toji Fushiguro of all people on your health - though, one look at his sculptured body should have told you all you need to know about just how seriously he takes it. “Don’t even know why s’on the market. S’not good for ya, mama.”

And you knew that. Probably. But ah, the things you do when you’re at your ropes end. “And? I’ve never had a single heat my whole life, y’know?”

“And I should know, bratty doll.” Toji murmurs, throwing that oh-so-famed miracle serum haphazardly back onto the shelf and flipping off the manager who glares at him. “Haven’t had a single rut in years, not since Megumi’s- anyways, all these inducers here are full of shit.”

“Oh.”

Wrapping a staggering arm around your waist to guide you, your body practically burns. Weird. “Tch- silly girl.”

Two peas in a pod.

Before you know it, you’re being dragged by a disgruntled Toji away from the treacherous clutches of the Heats and Ruts aisle and past the cashier - who only smiles as you so-very-subtly sneak in a long whiff of the air. 

Again. Nothing. 

With the stinging pang of disappointment, you sigh as you step outside. Only for Toji to rub your back with a hum, “S’alright. You’ll be alright, sugar- you’re my strong girl, huh?” Eyes widening at just how…sweet Toji was being. That is, before he opens his mouth once more- “Besides. Who needs inducers when you’ve got such a big strong alpha-”

“Pass.”

“Don’ act like ya don’t like it, little miss neighbor. I see how ya look at me.”

“I- I don’t-” You did. And you do. And you will - in fact, you were looking at him that way right now as Toji swings over one thick thigh to straddle the padded leather seat of his prized Harley Davidson. Looking like he’d just stepped out from your wettest of dreams and it makes you almost simper out a sigh.

He’s jutting his head back at the tempting extra space behind him, and you could already hear the suggestion oozing into his next words. “Mhm— whatever ya say, girl. Now stop just standing there looking pretty n’ get over here, I’m a busy man.”

It’s almost as if on auto-pilot when you do.

Toji Fushiguro’s motorbike was big, and just as intimidating as he was. And it’s only on shaky legs that you manage to press yourself only mere precarious inches away from his hulking form. “Heh, ‘er name’s Harley. Fitting for a bike, huh?”

“If- if you crash I’ll kill you.” You’re puffing out a few thickly muffled words through the sleek matching black helmet he was deftly putting on you. Wondering just what led you to be…here of all places. 

“Yes ma’am, I’ll help ya hide the body.”

“M’serious- no funny business.”

“Uh huh, anything else, mistress?”

“And I’ve seen you run red lights so no-”

SMACK!

Your heart stutters with a loud ba-dump! as Toji’s rounded, calloused fingertips leave a good smack against the side of your thigh to get your yammering mouth to halt. And he’s letting off a titter at the shocked expression of your face even through the tinted helmet before turning to rest his hands on the handlebars. 

“Hold on tight.”

It’s all the warning you get - and, honestly speaking, you don’t think any sort of warning could’ve prepared you for the way that Toji rides. 

Something about it is so attractive. 

Maybe it was the creaking stretch of leather as his biceps strained against it from underneath, maybe the way your ears ring with his words even louder than the growl of the bike, maybe it was the way that you were holding him.

Arms stretching to connect over Toji’s broad front, your skin mushes against the curvaceous mounds of his toned pecs. Firm and warm. So, so warm that you can’t help the way that your eager self was mindlessly inching ever-so-slightly closer-

“Phew.” Startling - but not moving away - at the low whistle that Toji blows out, eyes still trained weaving through traffic. “Dangerous game yer playin’, omega.”

Sidling even closer, the defined angles of his back muscles only flexed at the innocent smooch of your tits. “What?”

“S’fucking close.” And not just to him, but to his scent glands. So sensitive and prickling the shaggy black hair at the base of Toji’s neck just from your heated proximity. Huh, strange. “S’a damn good thing I ah- don’t get my ruts, huh?”

And, suddenly, you’re despising what these helmets hide from you. “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t get my heats, huh?”

The exact same words playing over and over in your minds once Toji’s braking to a stop at his designated spot right outside your apartment building. And part of you almost feels upset that this little ride with him was over. 

Letting him do as he pleases when he’s seating around gruffly to take off both your helmets himself, you couldn’t help but notice that something about the air seemed…thick. Like it had just been dipped in candy and right now you were gladly suffocating in the sugary sweetness. 

Your eyes catch onto a lock of deep black that’d curled behind Toji’s ear - and you knew right then and there that something was wrong, you knew that you weren’t thinking. That you weren’t listening to your common sense. 

Because before you can stop yourself - before you can even register it - you’re swiping away the stray tuft, sensory curves of your fingertips just catching onto the skin above where Toji’s smooth glands should be.

“Fuh-fuck-” He’s hissing, willowy eyes curtaining behind a scrunch of his lids, and it’s almost as if on instinct that his thick digits fly upwards to trap your hands right there. “Hold on- just a little, mama-” Pressing down even tighter, and the way that Toji’s letting his head tumble back makes your mouth lacquer with a syrupy wave of drool. “-s-so you said you haven’t had a heat in years-”

“Ever.”

“-ever, huh?” Dewy whirlpools of his eyes examine you, and suddenly you feel like running away. But Toji only grins, “Say, why don’tcha scent me?”

Your maw falls slack with a hot shudder, and you’re not sure if it’s in shock or if it’s from how much you wanted it. To have an alpha offering himself on a silver platter - let alone Toji. Letting out an eloquent, “Wh-what?”

You’re being reeled in even closer with a tug of Toji’s strengthened hands, plummeting onto his chest with a cushioned oof–! He only repeats, breathing bated like he didn’t want to know anything himself until you did. “Scent me, pretty girl.”

“I-I don’t know why-” Your fingers unlatch, and you swear it makes Toji’s chest rumble with a low whimper. Steadily planting them onto the collar of his overpriced jacket to pull. “But if this is your idea of a- oh.”

Shit.

Shit.

And something…is different. There. 

Was- was this how he smelled? This heady concoction of jasmine and something so undeniably…Toji? 

Something snaking and boiling bubbles up throughout your body, you all but slump yourself into his eagerly awaiting arms. You can’t even register what you’re doing, nuzzling into his tender throat. Can’t even recognize the look on your face when you’re gasping in greedy heavals of what was obviously his scent.

That you could smell.

With a gasp, you’re pulling away, eyes diverting to him and- oh, it was much the same for him.

There was no other explanation for the lecherous look of devastation on Toji’s pretty features right about now. 

Scarred lips parting in awe, weighty lids drooping down until those heart-eyes him were almost invisible, face veiled with a delicate flush. His palms find their way to rest on the dip of your hips and stay there.

You’re croaking out, “T-Toji-”

It happens so fast - too fast. 

It’s as if your mere voice was enough to send a zillion volts of electricity shattering down Toji’s spine, jolting him with something darkly visceral. Enough to snap up one tannish forearm and bite-

“Ngh-” Toji’s pearly canines coat with a slight tinge of red, eyes shuttering open - and you notice that they seem slightly less glassy now. Slightly. “-fuck ya really are dangerous, doll. Was almost g’na have me take you right here right now.” The slight dip of his strawberry-pink tongue as Toji pulls away makes you gulp, “N’ I don’ wanna spend my first rut in years here.”

.

.

.

Toji couldn’t think - he couldn’t breathe. And if he was any lesser man he’d have fallen to his knees with only one whiff of your candyland smell. 

Addictive. 

Fingers clutched tightly underneath the plush of your thighs to carry you all the way in through your cozy apartment. Never faltering. Never slowing. You could almost roll your eyes at the blatant reminder of strength if you didn’t feel so feverish.

Toji’s steely eyes light up at the way your trembly fingers clutch the silken hem of your skirt, lips wobbling with every spilling word. “T-Tooooji, feels so hot.”

“S’that so?” He’s swiping the regal button of his nose down where the sides of your neck were swollen, breathing in the hot, sugary waves emanating from your skin. “Feel anything else?”

And the slight hitch of your breath is all that he needs as an answer, well, that and the goopy wetness that was formulating between your thighs. Shit, he never thinks he’s kicked down a door off its hinges harder than he has to your poor bedroom door. 

Draping you gently onto the plethora of silken sheets, you whine at the slight recoiling bounce.

Barely even given the time to gather your wits before Toji’s sliding his jacket and his t-shirt teasingly off, all thick, muscled limbs stalking towards you like a predator that’d just cornered his favorite prey. And you eye his rippling back, his rumbling tone speaking over your mattress’ creaks. 

“Ya better know…” he’s hurling out, mouth just only centimeters away from yours. Hot. “-m’not here ta fuckin’ play around jus’ cause you’re in heat, sugar.”

Ah, that’s what it was - heat. You were in heat. Fuck. 

Your fingers leave neatly indented semi-circles on his flesh when Toji’s grasping your throat tightly, padded ends of his fingers pressurizing right onto the treasure trove of your scent glands. “If I fuck you now, you will be mine. You and…” Before one largely crowned kneecap of his sidles into the snug cove of your pussymound. Weighing down- “...her.”

It’s the only thing you could do to bat your lashes up at him in a way that makes Toji’s achy cockhead twitch. “I want you…wan’ you to touch me, Toji–”

And that’s all that he ever wanted. 

Roughened hands shove you meanly back onto the cushy bed, and Toji’s sliding his palms languidly down, down, down every curve and dip on your body. As if he was trying to worship you with them. 

“Oh? Only wan’ me to touch ya?” Toji’s humming, Adam’s apple bobbing with wads of salivation once his fingers slink down to curl at your bra strap and snap! “Not to take this off or-” You gasp, the sting almost making you forget those minute rips! echoing from where he was grasping your t-shirt. “-this? Guess I can do whatever I please then, right?”

Before you can say a word of shrill protest, those useless pieces of fabric are tattered off. Ending up not-so-nicely in a pile right beside your bed with Toji’s intact clothes. 

“H-hey!” You whine, “Those were ah- limited edition-”

“Ah, I’ll buy ya five more of those.” Toji rolls his eyes when your lips part open, “What? Thought I wasn’t filthy rich or somethin’- Oh, girl, you are about to be spoiled. But first, a kiss-” Innocent and sweet onto your lips, “-here. And…”

Toji huffs out a few cocky sniggers at his own little joke, because of course he does. Leaving you off with a gentle swat! to the perfect curve of your hip and your heartbeat throbbing at your drooling cunt. 

He’s shuffling onto his very knees at the bottom of the bed, tutting at how unfairly far you were from his greedy mouth - well, that had to be fixed. You almost get whiplash from how swiftly you’re being dragged to let your jittery legs be thrown right near his tightly coiled deltoids. “-here.”

Head bobbing in an urgent yes yes yes when Toji rids you of your flimsy skirt and slowly slides down your drenched panties. All bunched up and leaving a glimmering coating of slick down your skin.

Stuffing it into his pants pocket, “This is a lil’ reward f’me.”

“Filthy.”

“Oh, well helloooo there, pretty girl.” He’s drawling, eyes flashing with such darkness at the heavenly mess of a banquet all laid out in front of him. “You’re so in heat- so fuckin’ in heat. See? Who needs fuckin’ inducers when ya have me.”

Toji’s pupils were swallowing up his verdant orbs. Needy. And he’s unashamed in taking a long deep inhale of your saturated pheromones. His favorite perfume now. “Lookin’ real happy ta see me. Happy s’your hah- first heat, hm?”

You’re squirming, fingers tangling into his silken tresses in an attempt to try and shove his face closer. “Are- are you talking to-”

“Hush now, doll.” Toji leaves a wet pap! of his fingers thwacking against the treacly slit of your pussy, watery with your flooding slick and greedy. “Lemme talk to ‘er- lemme talk this cute cunt through her first heat. M’honored, y’know?”

And honored just doesn’t begin to cover it.

Toji was devoted.

It’s like your wafting clouds of heady scent made his mind dizzy, until the only thing he could do was to let his slutty tongue loll out and sliiide at the splatters of translucent sap soiling your inner thighs.

“Oh- fuck-” You’re squirming your hips in a wild buck upwards, only to have him pin you down with the heavy-handed weight of his forearm. “-feels so- so…”

“Yeah? Good? Ya always get this wet or s’that jus’ f’me?”

Truly, you could only jumble out a few nonsensical syllables. Because Toji didn’t want to waste a single ounce of your precious juices, slurring out a few open-mouthed kisses across every inch of skin you’d exposed to him. And the moment that rosy peak of his tongue touches upon your teary pussy- oh.

He thinks he might just be the one about to cry.

Because you didn’t just smell like his favorite candied lollipops - you tasted like it, too. And, fuck, he can’t help but go in for seconds. Thirds.  

Guffawing out breathily with disbelief, he’s drawling his tongue to mush open the gummy folds of your pussy. Swirling out a lazy flick of his sopping muscle to stretch out the tight ring of your wide agape-

“Just look at ‘er all hngh- overflowing.” You watch with bated breath when Toji’s prying your quivering entrance with a bullying few inches of a singular thick index - only one, but Toji was so incredibly towering with his size and strength that you find yourself keening. Coral pink lips puckering up to give your hooded clit a squelching kiss. “Heh…like a damn waterpark, aren’t ya?”

Filthy words only making you filthier. Making your omega inside blink up and yearn.

Your gushing wads of juices bawling from between your legs in torrent. And you yelp at the lecherous sounds that echo out - the waterlogged squelches and slurring that only makes Toji grin. Wild and sly. “Mhm, real talkative.”

Arching your back into the perfect slutty curvature off of the prespired sheets, “Tojiii- s-stop teasing n’ give me- ngh- more.”

More. 

And just then you feel him fuck his softened digits into you slow and thorough. Curling up to swipe down the mushy soft spots of your walls - Toji was burning up. But you were burning up even more, and shit.

Shit. shit shit shit-

You don’t know if it’s because of your heat, or if it’s because Toji is just that good with that rude mouth of his - but you’re cumming faster than the thought could even flash across your melty mind. “Wait- m’close ngh- Toji- I’m gonna-”

It’s like a tidal wave of bliss peaked up further and further with every slashing motion of Toji’s gyrating make out with your cunt. You’re so very extra sensitive right now and he makes use of it - bumping up that rounded angle of his nose to press your fleshy clit just right. 

It’s so intoxicating. So heady that he finds himself pushing back those sweat-dampened bangs of his to lower down loooong breath. And then finally another passionate French kiss onto your bulging pussy. 

“Fuck- I-” Pearlescent droplets of tears welling up at the scrunched corners of your eyes. “M’so- sensitive–”

God, his wolfish canines were sharp nipping teasingly into the fat pucker of your pussy lips. Parting your slick-gleaming mound to squeeze his tongue into your tight hole, the stretch is incredible. It’s staggering. And Toji can only sully your insides with a gentle brush of his lengthy tongue along your gooey insides before pulling back with a huff. 

And then again- to let out a throat groan when your elastic walls push with resistance. And again. And again and again-

“Now m’offended.” Toji’s letting out a surly swat! where you’re trickling down viscous fluids of sickly sweet slick that coat his mountainous knuckles, his wrist, the raised trailways of his veins. “Wanted more but tha’s all ya can take- tch.” 

Oh, by the time your white-hot tingles of pleasure were bating you should’ve known better than to think that Toji Fushiguro was done manhandling you with his superhuman strength to every whim and want of his. 

That he would give you even a second of a warning before hovering over your frame and flipping you into such a pliable position over him.

His back hitting the puff of the pillows, strands of hair making a dark halo underneath him. Toji looks so fucking handsome that you can feel your pussymound slobber a few streaky puddles of slick onto his heaving abs. 

Hands positioned on either side of his leering head, you mewl. “Give me a warning first, you animal-”

“Hell yeah.” He’s snarking up at you, but there’s not a single speck of heat behind his words other than towards you. Towards what he wanted to do to you. Planting a heavy smack! on your ass, “Tha’s right you’ve got me in a rut after years like a fuckin’- animal. Heh, so jus’ lemme throw my pretty omega ‘round a lil’, I can feel how wet that gets ya.”

“N-noo- it doesn’t-” But that was a fucking lie and both of you knew it, knew it from the syrupy pool of sap laminating his heated skin. 

“See? She’s on my side. Doesn’t talk back.” The curvaceous pads of his fingers twiddle and tease your plumpened clit, so dirtily that it only makes your dripping cunt drool even further. Leaving a gauzy cobweb of treacly slick with every swat! swat! swat! he gifts. “Has anyone ever had her seated on a mouth, sugar? Made you feel good that way?”

Your head shakes before the thought has even contorted itself into an understandable shape. “No- no one has- ngh- before.”

It’s a confession, it’s a line plucked right from Toji’s filthiest thoughts on those late, late nights.

And he couldn’t look happier when molding you to the exact shape and angle that he wants you in. Turning you right around to bare your sodden pussy from the back, your unbalanced thighs curling on either side of his ravenous head. 

Not even a single command, yet your head is swimming with honey at just how much you were like putty underneath his hands. 

Your head cranes over the plane of your shoulder to give him a pretty plea. “Toji?”

“Mhmmm, Toji’s right here, pretty girl.” He’s awestruck - stunned with the gumdropping droplets of sap plopping down onto his tongue and sliding right down his throat. Making him groan, “Filthy fuckin’ pussy, can feel ya ngh- dripping allll down my tongue.”

And he’s drunk. He’s babbling, he’s heaving and heaving to inch his intoxicated maw to connect with your saturatedly glossy pussy lips. “Lower her down so I can give her lil’ smooch.”

Your hands nimble down along the tufted black happy trail brushing from between his navel and going down, down, down. “L-like this?”

“Nah, more. Can’t believe all those pathetic boys never had ya hah- sitting on their faces. Spread those pretty legs n’ lemme show you-” You can’t even begin to think about merely hovering your entire deadweight above him, because Toji was ready. And he was hauling you to rest every single mass of your flesh onto him, “-how a real man fucks.”

Thickly viscous helpings of your generous slick flood his mouth the second that Toji’s lengthy tongue is burrowing between your folds and driving you mad. 

Sliding all the way up and down up and down up and down with a welcoming flit at your buttoned clit and then pumping you overwhelmingly full. Fucking you with the overheated scratch of his tastebuds exactly the way that he wanted to with his achy cock right now.

“Can still taste m’self on ya- haaah- good.”

Toji wasn’t holding back.

“O-oh my god, m’so sensitive.” Your moans come out mangled. Wanton. Spilling from between your parted lips right along with rivulets upon rivulets of waterfalling saliva every single time that Toji’s bumping the curvaceous search of his tongue into your earliest sweet spots. “Slow down, Toji–”

Your fists maze through the velveteen blankets and clench, hips jerking up-

“Nuh uh, doll, no runnin’ away from your Toji.” Sliding up one slick-glazed hand to snake the small of your back, he’s using his face to nudge your legs even further. Drowning your sobbing cunt with a fat wad of spittle, Toji’s licking down the stray speckles that gravitate back onto his own mouth. So dirty that it makes him delirious, nose crinkling, bottom lip bitten. “Yeahhh, crack ‘em open even wider. She’s eager.”

Eager you were.

Jostling your hips against his mouth until through your clouded mind you were wondering whether he would suffocate. But little did you know that this might just be Toji’s ideal death - buried right there between your pretty legs. 

You’re being bounced so hard that you can feel your legs aching with the strain, hollowing out shuddered breaths and whines of Toji, Toji—

“Say my name.” He’s huffing, easing in a thick few inches of his fat digits that fill up the snug geysering orifices. Each n’ every single volume of space that’s inside you, and those puckered pecks leave screeching squelches that have you halfway through sobbing. “Say my name- say my name heh, g-gonna have a looot of ngh- noise complaints after this.”

Even though he’s saying this, he doesn’t do anything to deter you. Why the hell would he?

Pumping you full of one finger, two, three until your gummy ring of muscle was being molded to the plump circumference of his lengths. Multi-tasking. 

All the way until he was slathering the patterned bumps of his knuckles with a sticky second skin of slick, Toji curls those rounded tips down the tenderized walls of your channel and drags. Feeling for that one special target of his-

“G’na make ya feel s-so good.” He’s whispering, breathing like it was the truest of true words. And shit- he hasn’t felt like this for ages now - years. Secondary gender growling from his inner depths with guttural need to give you more more more. “Gonna find- ah- found it.”

And Toji knows he found it with the way you squeal. Wafting scent intensifying, lashes fluttering with a clinging swash of tears once he jerks a good push into that bulging bullseye that makes you see stars.

“Right there- Toji– right there-”

“S’fucking loud.” He’s rolling his eyes for what seems like the nth time today, but it was impossible not to when you were just so cute being teased like this. Bubbling out a few sloshes of slick and spit when your fingers dip right underneath his trousers and push. “O-oh? Trynna keep yer mouth full, huh? Let’s see ya try then.”

Your low lip juts out into a pathetic sort of pout that Toji finds adorable, that only makes his clothed cock pool out a darkening patch of precum onto his boxers. 

“Wan’ taste you- make you feel good.” Your words are warbly and broken, tone hitching upwards with every tiny slip of his sticky underwear downwards. It’s like you were teasing him - teasing yourself. And your inner omega was oh-so-very impatient. “Wanna make you feel…oh.”

“Heh, cat really got yer tongue now, huh?”

And you couldn’t even retort, you couldn’t even snap back as you usually might have because you were stunned. 

Maw falling slack at the generous girth that was throbbing fatly between your fingers, honestly from this lecherous angle it seemed like a struggle to even close your fist around him. Because Toji was…big - and even saying that was an understatement. 

Just about nine throbbing inches with hefty breeder balls that your bleary gaze could make out, flushed a candied pink on the rounded curve of his mushroom tip. Graduating down, down, down into a pale baby rose - you didn’t know whether it was the heat talking but right now he just looked like your favorite sort of lolly.

“L-look so pretty, Toji.” You babble away, words getting breathier and breathier as sloppy as his kisses get. Your puckered lips are almost stinging with just how thorough he was. “Wanna taste…”

Oh, and you didn’t realize that one perk of having your secondary gender presented was realizing the shift in his pheromones. 

You didn’t know how you knew but there was a tinge of utter adoration in Toji’s jasmine-infused scent as you plop down a wet mass of slippery saliva right onto his strawberry divot. Lathering the split, plummy globe before planting your mouth down and kissing.

Your mushy tastebuds looping little motions over the creamy butter-topped cap of his splurging cock, he tastes so heady. Rich pre melting on your tongue and it was so musky, so…him. 

“Oh, girl-” he’s breathing out through a rasping sigh. Darkened brows marrying together at just how warm your mouth was sheathing around his painfully hard shaft, “That’s it- thaaaat’s it. Suck on my cock like a good girl, mama—”

“Ngh-” Your jaw aches, throat jumping at the squeezing sensation of his lustrously crowned tip tunneling right down. Craning your head so that he could count every bounce, “S-sho bwigh.”

You were so heavenly, alternating to leave shy little snogs over and under his sensitive slit - and Toji was one competitive man. It was in his nature, of course. 

Tumbling your hips to rest even greater onto his mouth, he didn’t need to breathe. Didn’t even want to even dream of it when he had the circles of his fingerpads latched on your jiggling ass so hard it was sure to leave battered bruises for the next week and weeks and weeks.

“Damn, she’s good, huh?” Toji’s whispering at the sopping wet purse of your lips, “But I can’t have myself  c-cum before- fuuuck- my girl.” 

Your eyes were sprinting all the way to the back of your heavy lids with ever swaying lash of his mean mouth. And it didn’t matter just how vulgarly you were sliding your starved tongue down the heated ridges and veins of his swollen cock - Toji was doing ten times worse. 

Every deepening inch you swallowed up into your cavernous mouth only made him plug you fuller. Every stray swipe of the thick, ivory beads of his pre made Toji douse out lumping masses of saliva lewdly. And every twitch that made you sure Toji was right on course to tumbling over the edge was urging him to push you headfirst into your orgasm with a final teasing pinch at your clit. 

And your mouth opens with an accusing gasp - did he just…pinch your clit? But all thoughts of his audacity and the fact that Toji was chuckling out right after washed away as soon as your high was flooding you.

Moans being muffled around his generously fat shaft, the only thing that you get is just a single wispy wire of condensed cum being lacquered onto your tongue. Just one. Right before Toji’s free hand splays out onto your scalp and pulls you free with a wet pwah!

“Tha’s it-” You hear him mutter in the blinding cloud of your orgasm, it felt so blissful that some darkly primal part of you said that you were never letting him go after this. He was yours. Your mate. “-louder. Louder– good fuckin’ girl cummin’ all over my mouth.”

Toji didn’t know how the hell was multitasking with your pussy kindly spraying him with a sheeny covering of all your remnant juices. But for you? Anything.

Anything anything anything and he was whispering the very same mantra into the quavering, slick-flooded entrance of yours. Letting your hips drag sloppy grinds to ride out every edge of your peak - to use him in a way that no other alpha might just.

Toji’s strokes up into your tightly-clasped fist were deep, and he doesn’t stop even when your eyesight stops tinging with black. Not even when your back arches with oversensitivity, waterfalls of tears producing from your ducts. Sobbing, “I-I’m- ngh- Toooji- I can’t anymore-”

“Sure, ya can–” Looking you right into your thoroughly half-lidded eyes as he nods along with the slurring symphony that he was orchestrating from between your overworked legs. “-she says ya- ngh- can.”

Toji wanted to taste you again. Needed it.

“But-” And, yet, he finds his ear perking up at the wobbly sound of your voice, blushing bludgeoning tip creaming out another thick mess of white. “-but I wan’ my next- ah- next orgasm around your cock, Toji–” 

And, well, how could he say no to that?

Toji thinks he could never say no to anything you ask ever again with the way you were positioned precariously on top of him and still begging. 

He’s saying goodbye to your pretty pussy with a slow peck as a lover would. Breathing in heavily - oh, how he loved the smell of you. “M’gonna see ya later, m’kay? Don’t miss me too much.” 

And another gifted spank! to your tenderized ass makes you jerk a few inches off of his sugary mouth. Sweet, sweet praises being pecked up the bending arch of your spine when he sits you down all cutely on his lap.

You’re heaving out a huff, scent glands throbbing with a spike of something slightly salty. Jealousy. “M’startin’ ta think you’re playing ngh- favorites.”

“Well, duh.” He’s fluttering his long, bestowed lashes with an eyeroll, barely even flinching before cupping your slobbering pussy with one large palm. Teasing, “I’ve got yeeears ta make up for.”

Years of desperation and need pouring and pouring out when Toji folds you easily onto all fours.

And that’s when you’re getting a thorough striking of exactly three times that Toji’s sappy crownhead jolts upwards with a few gummy kisses hello up and down the crying middle of your pussy lips. Smooching. Gently. Before he’s snuggling right beside your hole-

With you bent over and arched right how he wanted you - oh, he was so enjoying the view. Saturated bursts of cloudy pheromones hitting your feverish body and only making the fountains of translucent slick increase tenfold. 

Shit, you were so wet that Toji has to force himself to let one greedy hand go from its favorite job trapping you underneath him. 

Guiding a few dexterous digits to wrap around the bulkily bloated cylinder of his base, he takes his time slipping and sliding.

“Might wanna hold yer breath, mama, h-heh…” You’re squirming your hips deeper into those pronounced hip bones of his despite the fact that simply breathing won’t help you take on his monstrous size. But you wanted to. You needed to. “Gotta c-count- ngh- eeeevery inch like a good girl now, m’kay?”

And that’s exactly what he made you do. 

“Oh!” Saltily flavored globules of your tears had your lips wetted, blubbering unconsciously when Toji anchors the hills of his palm onto the ends of your spine and pushes. “Shit- Toooji, why the hell are you s-so big-”

“Now that doesn’t sound like a ngh- ‘one’ ta me…”  But of course, who was Toji if it wasn’t for a little bit of teasing. Just enough to get your lips pouting cutely and your gluey walls clinging around him as if afraid he would pull away. Adorable. “Now now, c’mon- don’t tell me the biiig stretch has made ya forget how to ah- count, mama.”

So easy to rile up, to get you shaking your head so fervently that you swear you could feel your melty mind tumbling about like a bobble head. “N-no. I can count.”

“Then, say it w’me-” And oh, you knew that tone. That feral tone of his that would never ever bode well for you or your needily dripping pussy. Toji’s inching his hips back mere sinful inches, drawling out all the while. “-oooone.”

He doesn’t even ease you in.

Hitting your spraying cunt with the full force of his mushroom-topped head pushing past the adhesive-like resistance of your flooding entrance. Pushing and pushing and pushing- “One.”

Toji’s hands are clammy - depraved - when they pry your bouncing ass ever-so-slightly to really take in the sight of your gobbling pussy. Because he had no shame. He had no fucking shyness letting out a proud puff of pheromones that make your boneless knees weak.

“There there.” He’s patting that curve of your hip he loved so much - birthing hips, the thought strikes him. Shocked at just how much deeper that drowns him into his heady rut. “My good omega. Now…two.”

“T-two-” You’re sobbing out.

“Hmmm, nah- no stutterin’.”

Oh?

And, honestly, Toji half-expected your omega in heat to snarl at him a little, to let your hugging channel scoop up a hefty few dollops of milky pre right before he’s reeling the familiar pathway forwards again.

But, oh shit, he didn’t expect for you to bare your teeth like a fucking threat. For one hand of yours to dart behind with surprising accuracy and curl around his shaggy haircut, dragging Toji to pump you full. And it wasn’t just one inch. Not two. Not even three - you were damn near yearningly jackhammered with about halfway down his fuming red shaft before he finally got his cottony brain together. “Two.��� 

“Damn, greedy girl–” Toji praises, though it comes out as more of a rasping growl that sends voltaged shivers down your spine. “Comin’ back for more, already? Knew my dick was hah- heat- alright then-” And the bed rings out with a few symphonied creaks when he shuffles his muscular thighs wider. Steadier. “-but ya better still fuckin’ count.”

Four. five. Six.

More and more - seven and eight. 

Up until Toji’s puffy head smudges a wet wipe at the canvas of your cervix. You were so soft there that he obviously has to greet the melty depths of your pussy with a good spurting of ribbony pre, swabbing around those drenched springs with a lazy circle of his hips.

“Eight.” Your jaw spills a surging slew of profanities at the feeling of him spearheading you so open, face pushing into the soft mattress when you perk your hips up and push. Only to gasp at there being- more? “Wait- I want-”

“Down, girl.” Toji’s sweat-shimmered biceps flex when he shoves your too-eager body back. “Gotta get you to at least cum on m’cock again before I give ya my- fuuuuck- knot.” 

And Toji fucks you like he’d going to make you remember.

He knows he’s going to make you remember - it’s why he has that big, dopey smirk smearing wider and wider across his face with every fat thud! into the rubbery bounds of your pussy. You’re taking him like you’re made for it, and that only makes his heart stutter even louder than your protesting wooden bedframe.

“Doll, m’gonna ahh- break this damn bed.” He’s uttering out, never ever sounding prouder of himself than right now. “And you.”

“Cocky.”

“Whatever, girl- talk t’me when ya haven’t gotten- hah-” Managing out through blissful hiccups of his breath, “-heart-eyes after bein’ hngh- fucked dumb by me, ‘kay?”

You’re not sure if you’ve heard that correctly - but luckily for you, Toji Fushiguro is allll about keeping his girl in the loop.

All about prancing his rough hands to entrap your wrists and pull you with barely even a wisp of his true strength. Beaded dewdrops of sweat perspiring up and down the heavily toned muscles of his back like their very own personal rollercoaster.

With you right along for the ride with the way that his rightly angled rotund tip romantically scours and scours for your magical g-spot. Jerking you up in midair to snap his slender hips with a particularly vicious pap!

The sensation of skin-on-skin makes your head dizzy, and your core overpour with another sudden downpour of treacling juices. But what was even blasphemously worse was the way that precious geyser embedded into the treasure trove of your walls were pummelled. 

Over and over.

“There- right there–” you’re sounding out as if you were a broken record. Every resonating moan of yours accompanied hand-in-hand with the loudest splish-splosh of sputtering juices. Secondary gender working overtime now to make Toji cum. To make him give you his knot- “-wan’ you to c-cum right there.”

“Where?” Toji’s deepening his angle to bump a heavy-handed slam pounded into your cervix. “Here?” At your vehement shakes - honestly, he wondered if you even knew he was taunting you at this point. “Then…” Only to give your peaked clit a mushy squeeze, “-here?”

You’re almost crying at this point, bursts of heat fluctuating between your goopy depths and your swollen scent glands. Full and ready. And it’s a sight so pretty that Toji can feel his stomach twisting already. “N-noooo.”

He almost loses it once your shakier, smaller hands take the lead to guide one of his own all across your thighs where he loved. Your cunt, where he loved just a bit more. And to about halfway along your pretty tummy to press- “Wan’ you to f-fill me up riiight here.”

And Toji only growls, “Riiight there, huh?”

Pinpointing his puffed-up divot to smudgeon repeated heavy collisions into the latched wall of your womb. Once. Twice. Before thrashing your permeated walls with hosing flushes of his cum. Of such thick ribbony wads - and it’s so fucking dense that you feel your hips weigh down.

Or perhaps that was because of your own orgasm the- third of the night?

Just about all you can manage out, syllables falling from your lips slower than you’re being hammered through the faintish spurts of your high. “C-umming–”

Before you know it, you have one of his muscular forearms around your throat in headlock, bulging Toji’s rounded biceps hard and possessively at the bumpy area of your glands.

“Cummin’ again?” Toji snarls against your ear, nails clawing at your hip to keep them under his control. “Yeah- yeahhh tha’s right. Milk your dear Toji, t-take this fucking cock. Take my…”

And Toji was about to overstuff your awaiting hole with the fat circular ring that’d swollen around his base, to finally give you his knot the way he’d been dreaming of ever since you waved at him on the day he moved into this fucking building. 

But just one sneaking glance at the ivory lipstain your puffy pussy was wearing, the way the ends of your sopping slit drown with a swamping drip drip drip of his lustrous cum makes Toji go a little…crazy. 

Makes the bulgingly tender crook of your neck look so, so tempting. 

His glassed-over eyes lock downwards, breath hitching at the way he slowly sinks back out and in has your pussymound mewling out such a cute glomp! His second-favorite girl - after you, of course - was speaking back to him. Lathers of splashing cum painting his bulky heft with a ring of frosted seed. 

Oh.

Toji would never get tired of this. How the fuck hadn’t he had a rut in years again?

And he says only one word, “More.”

“M-more?” Your fingers experimentally nudge at the tautly coiled pressure at your stomach and find yourself slobbering - from both drizzling lips. Even with the dredges of pouring cum, you were still so full you felt that you could burst. “Can it even fit?”

Right now he thinks the hazy fog covering his brain would never stop - and he doesn’t want it to. Waves of pheromones wafting off of him in such high concentrations that you find your mouth flooding with saliva all over again.

Cobwebs of it overspilling down onto the veined muscles of his forearm - only increasing in saturation when he tilts your head up in the perfect 90 degree curvature to face his boring gaze. And his mean mouth.

Spitting right onto the tainted bullseye of your tongue, streamy rivers flowing back into your mouth when he firmly nudges it shut. “If yer droolin’ n’ can still t-take ngh– that,” Branding the thorough push of his circled circumference into your cervix like he was branding the swollen indentation there permanently. “-then ya can take allll of haaah- this, okay, mama?”

Shit, was Toji glad that both your concoctions of pheromones kept him still hard. And he’d heard of ruts that lasted a week - two, uncommonly. The longest ever recorded was twenty days and by god was he going to gain the title of world champion.

Even if it meant he had to lift you cleanly off of the now-broken bed, the exact same one that you were only now noticing. Just barely so. 

You’re gasping, fingers digging into Toji’s smooth skin when two arms wrap around your middle and jostle you over a few coiling bedsprings that’d started to stick out from one sagging end of the mattress. Being pushed to bend over in such a complaint position at the end of your cool mahogany desk. 

You’re dipped deep, but his battering rams were impossibly deeper.

And the zig-zagging probe of his veins were massaging you just right, thrusts determined and practiced now that Toji had every scouring inch of your pretty pussy drilled into his mind.

“Th-three’s the ah-” Toji’s chest rumbles with a sensitized shiver once he hikes up a strong leg, caging you with him and his ruthless cock and him. Letting you gape at the documents rustling and flying about, “-charm. Or was it four? Ngh- f-five? Six?”

Just how long did he intend to mess up your insides? 

Though, you really, really aren’t complaining at the way that every merciless dab of Toji’s sharp hips into your fleshy mounds fuck you stupid. Entire body burning up - all the way from his lolling, sweat-stucken head in the crook of your neck, to the splurging torrents of streamy sap coating you.

And then there was that stinging plap! of his tightened knot behind you-

“C-can I have your knot now, Toji—?” 

Shit, his hips stutter their sloppy staccato, did you even know what you were asking for?

You never knew that heats came with such a side of begging, but right now you couldn’t really bring yourself to care. Or to complain. Because Toji liked it, earning your pillowy walls with extra thorough hits. 

“Impatient girl.” He’s raising a hand to give two messy spanks on your bulging pussymound, deep snickers hitting your ear in condensed pants at the way it only makes you filthier. “Real diiiirty, too. mmm, wonder if she’d ngh- m-make an even bigger ngh- mess if I…”

And at this point, you were hanging onto every word falling from his kiss-bitten lips. A side-effect of just how good he was fucking you into the digging edges of your clattering desk right now. “What- ngh- what? P-please-”

“Ohhh, know yer m-manners, huh?” Full body wracking at the oodles of slicked sheens frothing down the plump curve of his globed balls and making them clench. Dangerously so. “S-since ya asked so fuckin’ nicely, I’ll let you ngh- know, sugar.” 

Nothing could have prepared you for the way that Toji moistens his parched mouth with a few sultry licks of his lips as if preparing to share his deepest, darkest secret.

Nothing could have prepared you for the notched up burst of his jasmine perfume that makes your legs resemble weak jelly, and Toji’s support yours until they were hovering almost midair. 

Because he was craning his head down to nip at your scent glands, with a sudden snicker. Crazed. A few octaves higher. Like he doesn’t even realize it’s tumbling out before sighing, “-wonder if she’d make an even bigger mess once I get ya…pregnant, mama.”

And oh you think you’re cumming - hot spurts of bliss tackling you by surprise. Fuck, and if you thought that the last orgasm had taken a lot out of your Toji then you’re sluttily glad to find out that that was not the case.

The complete opposite, in fact.

You’re sure that Toji cums even more this time, sunken divot into the elastic material of your walls welling up with the creamy helpings of his bloated cock. So much seed spilling out of him that you wondered whether this was the rut or just him.

Just his urge to fuck you full until you were pathetically overspiling, until had had you in a hold so tight that you think you could almost feel Toji’s delicious crownhead fuck his cum into you until it reached your lungs. 

For what feels like rounds upon rounds until your saliva had amassed in a forevermore pool underneath you. You didn’t know what time it was. How long it had been- 

Only feeling the firm glissade of Toji’s washboard abs against your back. The way his thighs shivered and jerked at every one of your gripping clenches. And despite being so fucked, you were already drooling at the heavenly cushy push and pull of his Adonis-like pecs heaving in throaty gasps. 

So unfairly sexy that it made your primal instincts preen. Mate.

And, apparently, Toji was thinking much the same. 

“F-fuuuck-” He’s letting his mouth nuzzle the side of your throat with all the tenderness that he wasn’t bestowing upon your sappy cunt. “Think about i-it- you all ngh- round and glowing n’- rooound–“ Rambling and rambling at the wet splashes inside you of his stuffing, “You’d make the prettiest momma.”

As if to prove his point, a gentle hand greets the inflationary outline that was slowly forming its way at your tummy. Made by yours truly - Toji. 

“I…” And he looks at you like you’ve hung the stars. And his sanity right along with it somewhere up there. “-want that. Oh, I- hngh! want that-”

Words barely out of your mouth before Toji’s hand slams down - he had to keep himself together. He needed to. But that grating desk clearly wasn’t the place, because you flinch when one straining leg snaps!

And Toji’s alpha instincts are flaring up in an instant, wrestling you to the ground right - pulling out for only a nanosecond to flip you onto your prespired back, pretty legs strewn sloppily over his shoulder, even prettier face gazing up at him - beside the wreckage. One that you’d only find it in yourself to worry about much, much later. 

Definitely not when he’s patting the curve of your pussy with a softened thwack! Murmuring, “Then..g-gonna hafta- hngh- take it.”

And if you didn’t know any better, then you’d have sworn that the smug Toji Fushiguro’s voice cracked as soon as he was settling for drawing a languid heart pattern around the velvety perimeter of your entrance. Before thumbing his way inside-

“Hck!” Your lip wobbles with oversensitivity, nails clawing red, red lines of raw need across the faintly bubblegum pink flush of his body. “S-Soooo much–”

And, yet, you couldn’t get enough. 

You watch with a bitten lip with a fat goblet of sweat drips from Toji’s angular jaw and slithers between his pecs to disappear down below. More - you wanted to fucking ruin him.

The desperation of your heat plummeting in heady wavelengths all around you and making the room smell like a candy heaven.

One that you were very much lost in with the unforgiving stretch of Toji pawing his way to working your sprinkling cunt doubly open. Fingers pumping in quick, methodical half-fucks in the same way that his persistant hips were doing.

Every single recoil against your fleshy cervix causes you both to keen at the wet slosh of his mounds of seed piling up inside you from all the endless rounds before. 

Again. And again. And again and again until it feels like countless hours upon hours. 

“Ohhhh- w-ait-” Toji stammers out, attractively sharp jaw falling and wrenching shut a few repeated times. And then his hips slow down. “Think s’gonna- ngh- ohhhh yeah, gotta take this kn-knot okay? Like my goood girl, okay?”

You’re filled with countless inches of a staggering girth that you didn’t even know was possible. Because while alphas were big…Toji was extra big. 

Extra rounded in his sizable knot, rested upon thickly globular balls that still held such voluminous amounts of cum. Pounding open your eager cunt further and- further-

“I-is it in?” You’re shrilling out, syllables slurring and stumbling together with the incredible stretch being made evident from down below. Fuck, your nails create more painted patterns. You didn’t even want to look - you couldn’t afford to cum again just from the sight. 

“J-just ngh- one more inch. Scratch me, ruin me- anythin’. But m’gonna make it f-fit.”

And Toji only hooks in another one of his thumbs, this time swiping the fat pad of a few stray fingers down your buxom clit. “Count w’me, doll-” For his sanity more than anything. Neck straining with a few popping vessels of blood that swell, face reddening with such a maidenly fucking blush as he looks downwards. “-ooone more-”

“-inch.” You finish off, not expecting that exact moment to be when Toji snaps. His patience. You, full of that achingly hot knot that’d been just begging for you to take him the very moment you waltzed up to him with that sweetened saccharine scent. 

His favorite now.

Gulping in cavernous quotas of it the moment Toji’s inflated knot pops and he sinks his sharpened canines into your scent glands with a whimper-

Hard enough to taste your honey-glazed pheromones, to draw blood. To be permanent - just as he’d needed it. 

Hard enough to make him cum all over again at the feeling of your own teeth making their pretty mark on him. Shit, he didn’t even know if it was fucking possible for his overworked cock anymore. But he sure wasn’t fucking complaining at the delicate splat splat splat of milky cum hitting the back of your pussy. 

Already filled to the brim and spilling with every loving grind that Toji was boring down upon you. The only thing that he could manage when you two were connected so…tightly this way.

“Cute.” Toji manages to run his fingers over the proprietorial set of indentations set in his flesh, eyes still laminated dewily with an euphoric sort of stunned awe. “F-fated mates really have some good ngh- bed chem, huh?”

Fated mates. You could only smile and scent that overwhelmingly addictive jasmine scent of his. Taking in a long, deep breath as he held you. Tight. 

Yeah, jasmine. 

But jasmine was Toji Fushiguro’s.

And you’d be damned if Toji Fushiguro ever let you off that easily.

The smile you’re given is feral, predatory teeth glimmering in the dim lighting and making the neat circle of marks at your neck throb. And something about that told you this was far, far from over. 

You could only hope that your floor didn’t suffer the same fate as your bed, and your desk…and your fluttering cunt.  

After all, you both did have years to make up for. 

“Now the only haaah- way to really test our bed chem is to see whether we can make Megs a big brother.”

A/N. Thinking about making an omegaverse installment for every JJK man- what do you think babygirls?

Plagiarism not authorized. 

[hivemuthur]

If your up for taking requests, can I request something with modern au viktor and reader where they’re fwb until viktor confesses to them, but reader doesn’t actually believe he likes her that way so they decide to take it slow?

'I need some time,' she said and proceeded to write it as a break from another angsty monstrosity she was trying to write. Anyway, Dear Anon, here is a little thing for you, I hope it meets expectations. Friends With Consequences

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! smut though not an unhinged kind, fwb dynamics into lovers, soft Viktor, AU university, AU modern era, emotional

word count: 2,8K

—

At first, it had been difficult. A drunken mistake, you told yourself. You also told yourself that it was never going to happen again, and you said the very same thing to your roommate. She nodded knowingly, giving you the kind of look that was the most annoying expression in the world—the look that screamed, “Yeah, sure,” in the most patronising way.

Viktor would walk you back to your room after the party, both of you too drunk to walk straight, so you supported each other’s weight, you waving his cane around dramatically. He clutched onto you, his hands cradling your waist from the side after his awkward stumbling and a deflective, theatrical, “Leave me, save yourself!”

You laughed and scrambled to help him up, whispering, “I leave no man behind.”

So there you were, clattering down the student dorm hallway, trying to make your way to your rooms, occasionally shushing each other, clasping hands over each other’s mouths and giggling. When you finally made it to your door, your laughter died into an awkward chuckle, then awkward silence, which you felt you had to fill. You talked about nothing. One nothing leading to another nothing, and Viktor just stared at your mouth, producing all those words.

Finally, he leaned in, and you felt your body stiffen. His face ghosted next to your cheek, his fingers wrapped around yours, still holding his cane. “I’m going to have to take this back,” he whispered into your ear, his warm breath laced with alcohol tickling your neck. You shuddered and nodded, gulping a strange lump down your throat, bracing for his touch to leave you. Instead, it travelled up your wrist, your forearm, to your neck, tracing your hairline with a scared, delicate brush of his fingers.

His eyes were now glued to yours, your foreheads touching as he searched for protest. And when there was none, his other hand cradled your waist, his nose resting against yours, and his lips landed where you had been secretly wanting them for the longest time.

He tasted of whisky and chewing gum, and you couldn’t believe that he managed to sneak a gum somewhere between your decision to leave the party and coming here. You wondered if he had spat it out secretly into one of the trash bins, abandoned it on the floor as you walked, or straight up swallowed it. It had made you self consious about the taste of your own mouth.

At first, he was tender, almost timid, testing the waters. When your eyes fluttered shut and your hands travelled to brush through his hair, he let out a content moan, muffled by your mouth, and deepened the kiss. His tongue slowly coaxed itself inside, your teeth clacking against each other clumsily. His hands became bolder, cradling your ass, and you found yourself pushed against the door, kissed with a hot need.

You were just about to turn the doorknob blindly behind your back when Viktor pulled away, by an inch. He chuckled awkwardly. “Um, so… Sorry, I—”

“No, no,” you said quickly, placing your palms flat on his chest, a gesture of acknowledgement. “It’s all good.” You were relieved to find out that his heart was thundering equally hard to yours.

“You should get some sleep,” he smiled and straightened, visibly sobered up by what had just transpired.

You nodded obediently and allowed him a kiss on the cheek—fleeting, gentle—before he turned away and limped down the corridor toward his room.

“Holy shit,” you whispered into the darkness of your tiny space on the other side of the door, having no idea that Viktor whispered the same exact thing to himself once shielded from the oppressive light of the fluorescent bulbs buzzing in the hallways.

The second mistake was orchestrated better than the first one. By means of not being stupidly drunk. You sat crouched over the display of notes and books at the foot of Viktor’s bed, while he splayed himself casually, chewing on a pencil, reading an incredibly interesting passage from a biology book, judging by his frown. His brace and cane rested by the bed stand; his legs spread out on either side of you.

“I think I’m repelling knowledge at this point,” you groaned, mindfully moving his leg to meet the other before flopping by his side, careful not to touch him. You held the book above you, only to drop it on your face in resignation.

“We don’t have to go through everything today, you know,” Viktor said calmly, taking the occasion to study you without you seeing. He rolled to the side, propping his head on his hand, and you could feel the shift in the mattress, the book still shielding your eyes.

“I don’t want to do this anymore, Viktor. I want to retire already.” Your whiny voice was muffled by the tome, making Viktor chuckle, and you could feel the tremble next to you.

“Always just so dramatic,” he mused, plucking the book from your face gently. He looked at you from under hooded eyelids, his mouth curled into a gentle smile. “Do you want to take a break?” he asked in a husky voice, and suddenly your cheeks went warm.

“I—” you hesitated, feeling the blood rush to your head as his hand rested on your stomach, and you cursed yourself for not eating earlier, expecting it to growl at any given moment. “What do you have in mind?”

“Hmm, I can think of something,” he murmured, his hand snaking up your side, pulling you toward him to melt you against his mouth. “Unless this is something you don’t want,” he stopped himself, words tickling your lips, and you found yourself almost whining.

“No, I… I do, I just…” Oh god, where were all the words when you needed them? Yes, I want this. Yes, that would be nice. Yes, please fuck me, I’ve been wanting it forever.

“It doesn’t have to be… finite. We can make it casual,” he offered weakly, and you weren’t sure which one of you was more disappointed about it—or if you had just imagined it.

You blinked a few times, searching his face for any clue. Nothing. “Are you… proposing a friends-with-benefits setup?”

“I suppose… If… that is something you would be comfortable with,” he said carefully, as if weighing the options himself as well. This was… not his initial idea, but he could roll with it, so to say.

“Are you aware that friends with benefits implies friends with consequences?” you deadpanned, having already played all the possible scenarios in your head. You fall in love in the process and live happily ever after. Viktor finds someone else, and you die miserably. You fall out over something, and your friendship is ruined. Any, as possible as all others.

He chuckled, startled. “Yes, yes. I am aware. But I believe we are both adult enough, no?”

In truth, he preferred friends with anything over just friends. Friends with handholding would be nice. Friends with dating would be even nicer. Friends with arguments—those had already happened, nothing he couldn’t handle. Friends with benefits, well, that was appealing. Friends with consequences? Yes, if the said consequences were having sex with you exclusively and being able to squeeze you lovingly until your pretty head popped off. Yes, he could roll with it.

“Okay. Okay. Do you want to shake on it?” You pulled your hand out awkwardly, and Viktor snorted to cover up his grin.

“Or we could just…” He leaned in to kiss you. Your hand, momentarily frozen in the air, finally relaxed to slide under his shirt, and he hummed in approval. “Kiss on it.”

And so, you rolled with it. In fact, you rolled so much around Viktor’s bed that you couldn’t count it anymore. You also gave him an odd blowjob in the library and had never heard anyone make sounds as obscenely hot as he did. His fingers tangled into your hair, his face all flushed, mouth agape—those moments embedded themselves into your memory instead of essential biology knowledge.

The first couple of times were awkward, but he was just so... patient. What ruined your relationship as study buddies had bloomed into something you never thought yourself capable of doing. Casual sex. That felt nice. And no guilt attached. You wondered if other people knew about this option. You wondered if it wouldn’t be the answer to ending wars and hunger.

Until. Until.

Until you saw her sitting with him in the library. Her lingering hands on his forearm, as she laughed too loudly for the library regulations and he shushed her playfully. Her fingers brushing hair away from his forehead and his awkward chuckle. The way he scratched the nape of his neck in embarrassment when she praised him.

So of course, you defaulted to what any adult would do. You retreated. Not entirely, but you retreated the part of yourself that was feeling all the awful, unspeakable things. You locked it, sealed it, so your meetings transformed into something... mechanical.

You would jump him in the corridor and drag him into your room when your roommate was away. You would knock on his door and undress automatically, your movements practised by now. And Viktor would frown, and he would try to ask, but you shut him up with your tongue.

And he didn’t have it in him to say no. All the coldness you oozed would disperse upon him kissing you, licking your ear, and wrapping his fingers around your throat. It would dissolve, and what would take its place was the touch that lingered. Your wanting hands on his hips as he fucked you, sweaty and panting, his face close to yours when he whispered, “You are so beautiful.”

And you allowed yourself to forget in those fleeting moments. You let the ugly feeling from your heart rest and regenerate, so it was strong again whenever Viktor tried to cradle you to his chest in the aftermath.

He could feel the wall between you two rise back up as soon as you stepped out of the bed and pulled your trousers on, hopping on one leg to slide into them faster. Whenever his mouth opened to ask a question you feared so dearly, you shut him up with a dismissive peck on the lips. And when the kiss broke, he found himself following the trace of your disappearing face.

But you forgot one important thing. Viktor wasn’t stupid.

So you expected nothing new when you received a casual text message: See me after class? :)

You cursed yourself for walking so fast, your utterly undignified trot refusing to slow down. You steadied your breath and opened the door, only to be slammed against it. Viktor’s mouth was on yours, skipping all of your usual courtesies. He rid you of your sweater, along with all the layers beneath it, and made impressively quick work of your bra. You almost snorted at seeing him waiting for you almost completely naked, save for his boxers.

“What’s the rush?” you chuckled, watching his hands tremble at the button of your jeans.

“You’ll see,” he smiled, offering you a helping hand to step out from the pool of your clothes.

When you were both equally naked, he walked you to the bed, using your shoulders to support himself, and sat down, with your thighs straddling his lap.

You were already in the space of forgetting. Your fingers travelled into his hair, your face pressing against his, breathing him in as you crushed his mouth with a kiss. You could feel his hips buck beneath you, his cock pressing against you, and you moaned at the contact.

You barely registered the sound of a condom being unwrapped, his hands fumbling to put it on without breaking your mouths apart. Once he was ready, he teased your entrance and looked you deep in the eyes. He stared into your soul as his cock entered you, and he observed your mouth opening, your brows furrowing at the first languid roll of his hips.

His arms pulled you close, caging you in, as he asked, “Lásko, why are you so distant?”

And it was a killing blow. Because Viktor wasn’t stupid, and he knew this was the only moment when you were truly present with him. This was the only moment he could probe you for answers. He would fuck the answer out of you if there was no other way.

“W-what?” you stuttered, your breath heavy. You tried to move, but you could only move as much as he allowed. “What do you mean?”

“You avoid me. You wouldn’t talk to me. Is that all you want? Just to fuck me?” His voice was so expectant that your hips jerked on top of him.

“Is that not what we’ve agreed on?” you spat, unintentionally. You immediately relented, seeing his wounded eyes. “I thought you wanted this,” you said weakly. You thought you had learned an important lesson on how not to get hurt. But you forgot how to not hurt someone when saving yourself.

“No. I want more.” His voice was barely a whisper. Viktor had also learned an important lesson—that benefits with no friends were bad. That if the consequence was losing your friendship, he wasn’t able to roll with it. And that just friends was better than something so impersonal. Unless you weren’t friends, but more.

“Get out,” you scoffed, trying to snake your hands between you and push him away, but his grip on you tightened.

“No. Stay. Please.” He stilled his movements, his cock twitching inside you, making you wince at the absurdity of the situation. “I want more,” he repeated, this time with more confidence.

You took a sharp breath through your nose, his eyes not leaving yours. “More of what? I’ve seen you with other people, Viktor. It’s fine—”

“Where have you seen me? With whom?” He looked… offended. As if it were unthinkable to even touch anyone else. As if he wanted more as much as you were pushing it away from your mind.

“I… the library… do we have to talk about this now?” You pushed your weight down onto him, his mouth releasing a surprised gasp, but he wouldn’t fold.

It clicked. He was fast; he’d get it immediately. The girl in the library, her grabby hands, her loud mouth yapping at him. It was then you started to pull away. Ridiculous, so utterly stupid and unnecessary. He laughed, despite himself. “That got you acting so weird? I have no idea who that girl was. I shrugged her off as soon as I got the chance.”

“Viktor, you don’t have to be delicate with me. It’s fine. Now, can we please, just—”

“No.” A strange wail escaped his throat, and you immediately stopped fidgeting. “No. I miss you. I want more… of this. And of you. I want all of you, to myself.” He was stumbling over his words, his focus split between his heart and his cock. But they both wanted the same thing—you. You tried to find any sign of his confession being phony. And you found none.

Viktor rested his forehead against your chin, his hands cradling your waist tightly. When his words failed him, he began to plead with his body.

He kneaded the flesh of your hips lovingly and rubbed his face into the crook of your neck. “Do you really think I could touch anyone else like this?” he murmured, his voice so honest it sliced straight to your heart, and then down to your core.

“Do you think I could fake this?” He pulled you into a kiss, so longing, so affectionate that you thought your lips were going to melt.

“Do you not feel loved?” He finally looked at you, his expression serious and determined.

“Viktor,” you whispered—to him, to yourself. Into the air, you hung his name between the two of you as your hand palmed his face, and he leaned into it with gratitude.

“Say if you don’t want this. I will stop,” he spoke into your skin, and all you wanted to do was pull him close and keep him to yourself. To make up for all the times you ran away, and all the times you had fucked him with no emotion.

“I want this. I want you,” you kissed him to seal your words on his mouth. He took them and swallowed them eagerly.

“I want to do this right. I want it to be slow and good,” he said against your lips timidly. You nodded and then chuckled, “I told you—consequences.”

“Hmm, I can roll with that,” he hummed and kissed you again.

[azrielmasterlist]

Petals & Shadows

Storyline:- Where after his near kiss with elain, he's left confused and lonely, taking a new mission from rhysand he left for some lone time to wander around when he met Her. A Garden Fairy. So beautiful and god he was hooked the moment his eyes fell on her.

Azriel x Garden Fairy

Words:- 2.3k

Warning:- Fluff

Azriel’s mind was a mess, swirling with thoughts he didn’t want to linger on. The near kiss with Elain haunted him, her delicate scent still clinging to his senses. He had thought for a fleeting moment that maybe—just maybe—he could be happy. But happiness was an illusion, wasn’t it? One he had never been destined to grasp.

Rhysand had given him a mission shortly after, sensing Azriel’s need to get away. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t prod. He only gave him space, which Azriel desperately needed. So he left Velaris behind, flying over endless forests and valleys, hoping the open sky and cold wind would clear his mind.

Yet nothing seemed to help.

He touched down in a meadow, his shadows curling around him protectively. The place was vibrant, teeming with wildflowers in every colour imaginable, and the air smelled fresh, earthy, and rich. It should’ve calmed him, but even here, he felt restless, a storm churning beneath his calm exterior.

That’s when he heard her laugh.

Azriel’s head snapped in the direction of the sound. It was light, musical, and utterly captivating. His shadows swirled toward it, eager to explore, but he didn’t need them to tell him where she was. He could see her.

She was standing in a small patch of greenery, her hands on her hips as she glared at a puddle of mud. Her friends, other garden fairies judging by their leafy attire and small, translucent wings, were giggling beside her.

“Yeah, no, I don’t like mud,” she said, wrinkling her nose adorably.

One of her friends tilted her head, clearly amused. “But you’re a garden fairy,” she pointed out as if that explained everything.

The fairy rolled her eyes dramatically, crossing her arms. “Ironic, isn’t it? Such a drama queen,” she added with a huff, earning more laughter from her friends.

Azriel found himself smiling before he could stop himself. There was something about her that drew him in, something light and warm that made the cold shadows within him retreat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that way.

Her friends egged her on-again, gesturing toward the other side of the puddle. “Just jump.”

The garden fairy groaned, stomping her foot. “Okay, alright. I’m coming,” she said with exaggerated frustration before leaping over the mud in an awkward yet endearing manner.

Azriel’s shadows stirred around him, curious in this strange, captivating creature. He found himself stepping closer, careful to keep his footsteps silent, not wanting to disturb the moment.

But she noticed him anyway.

Her head turned toward him, and their eyes met. Azriel froze.

She was breathtaking.

Her skin seemed to glow under the sunlight, and her hair was a cascade of soft curls that shimmered like spun gold. But it was her eyes that held him captive—bright, sparkling, and filled with a mischievous warmth that made something stir in his chest.

“Oh, hello,” she said, tilting her head in curiosity. Her friends glanced at him, wary, but the garden fairy herself didn’t seem the least bit afraid. Instead, she took a step forward, closing the distance between them slightly. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Azriel cleared his throat, trying to gather his composure. “No. I was… just passing through.”

Her lips curved into a teasing smile. “Well, you don’t look like the passing-through type.”

His brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

She shrugged, a playful glint in her eyes. “You look more like the brooding-in-the-shadows type. Very mysterious.”

Azriel blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her boldness. He didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused.

“I’m Azriel,” he said, deciding to ignore her teasing tone. “And you are?”

“Faye,” she answered with a grin. “Guardian of this little garden paradise.”

“Guardian?” he repeated, arching a brow.

“Well, technically a garden fairy, but guardian sounds cooler, don’t you think?”

Azriel found himself chuckling softly, something he rarely did. “Cooler, yes. Accurate? I’m not so sure.”

Faye placed a hand dramatically over her heart. “You wound me, stranger.” But there was no malice in her words, only humour. “So, Azriel, what brings you here? Besides brooding, of course.”

“I’m on a mission,” he said simply, though even he wasn’t sure what his mission was anymore. He had come here to find peace, but instead, he had found her—and she was anything but peaceful.

Faye studied him for a moment, her gaze sharp despite the lightness of her demeanor. “Well, if you’re going to be hanging around, you might as well help. This garden doesn’t take care of itself, you know.”

Azriel raised a brow. “Help? With what?”

She gestured to the greenery around them. “Watering, planting, weeding… you know, garden stuff.”

He looked down at his dark leathers, clearly not designed for gardening, and then back at her. “I don’t think I’m dressed for it.”

Faye laughed, a sound that made his shadows flicker in response. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you touch any mud. I know how awful it can be,” she said with a wink.

Azriel couldn’t help but smile again. This fairy was unlike anyone he had ever met. Bold, bright, and full of life—a stark contrast to the shadows that clung to him. And yet, he found himself drawn to her as if she was a light he hadn’t realized he needed.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Over the next few days, Azriel stayed in the garden, helping Faye with her tasks despite his initial reluctance. They fell into an easy rhythm—she would chatter endlessly about the plants and flowers, and he would listen quietly, occasionally offering a dry comment that made her laugh.

They talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories and experiences. Azriel found himself opening up in ways he hadn’t thought possible, and Faye… Faye was simply herself, vibrant and unfiltered.

There were moments of quiet too, where they would sit together, watching the sunset paint the sky in hues of gold and crimson. In those moments, Azriel felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time—peace.

And with that peace came something else.

Something deeper.

Something he wasn’t sure he was ready to name.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

One afternoon, Azriel found Faye sitting on a rock, her hands covered in dirt as she tended to a patch of flowers. She looked up when she saw him, a smudge of dirt on her cheek.

“Don’t say it,” she warned, pointing a finger at him.

“Say what?” he asked innocently.

“Something about how ironic it is that a garden fairy doesn’t like mud.”

Azriel smirked. “I would never.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly not believing a word he said. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re dramatic,” he shot back, his tone light.

Faye laughed, the sound like a balm to his soul. “Touché.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The days passed in a blur of sunlight and laughter, and with every moment Azriel spent with Faye, he found himself growing more attached to her—this bold, vibrant garden fairy who somehow made his shadows feel less heavy.

For as long as he could remember, Azriel’s life had been one of duty, shadows, and unspoken desires. He had never allowed himself to entertain the idea of a different life—a lighter one, full of joy and warmth. And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of a blooming garden, watching Faye tease her friends and stomp around with exaggerated drama when forced to touch mud as if it were the bane of her existence.

He knew he should have left by now. His mission was complete—he had investigated the disturbances in the nearby forest, reported back to Rhysand, and confirmed there was no imminent threat. There was no reason for him to stay. And yet…

He stayed.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Azriel leaned against the trunk of a towering oak tree, arms crossed over his chest as he observed Faye from a distance. She was busy arranging a cluster of flowers into neat rows, her delicate fingers brushing over the petals with surprising care despite her earlier disdain for all things muddy.

“You’re staring again,” came a light voice from beside him. Azriel glanced to his left to see one of Faye’s friends—a fellow garden fairy with sharp green eyes and a knowing smirk.

“I wasn’t staring,” Azriel replied smoothly, though his shadows betrayed him, swirling restlessly around his shoulders as if they were unsettled by the accusation.

“Sure, you weren’t,” the fairy said, her tone teasing. “You know, if you like her, you could just tell her.”

Azriel shot her a warning look. “It’s not that simple.”

The fairy raised a brow. “Why not? You’re here, she’s here. You enjoy each other’s company.” She paused, her expression softening. “Faye may seem like she’s always full of light and laughter, but she doesn’t let people in easily. If she’s let you stay this long, it means something.”

Azriel’s gaze shifted back to Faye, who was now attempting to balance a watering can on her head, much to the amusement of the other fairies. Her laughter rang out across the meadow, clear and pure, and something in Azriel’s chest tightened.

Maybe the fairy was right. Maybe it did mean something.

But how could someone like him—who carried so much darkness—ever hope to deserve someone like Faye?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the garden was bathed in a warm golden glow, Faye found Azriel sitting alone on a flat rock by the stream. His shadows danced lazily around him, blending into the growing dusk. He looked so out of place in the peaceful garden, a figure of darkness surrounded by light. And yet, to Faye, he fit perfectly.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked, her voice soft.

Azriel glanced up, surprised. “Of course.”

She plopped down beside him, close enough that their shoulders almost touched. For a moment, they sat in silence, listening to the gentle burble of the stream.

“You know,” Faye began, her voice thoughtful, “I’ve been wondering something.”

Azriel tilted his head slightly, waiting for her to continue.

“Why did you stay?” she asked, turning to face him fully. “You finished your mission days ago. Most people would have left by now.”

Azriel hesitated, unsure how to answer. How could he explain that he stayed because of her? Something about her had captivated him in a way he hadn’t thought possible.

“I needed time to think,” he said at last, which wasn’t a lie—it just wasn’t the whole truth.

Faye didn’t press him, but there was a flicker of disappointment in her eyes, gone so quickly he almost missed it. “Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad you stayed,” she said with a smile. “You’re not half bad to have around.”

Azriel’s lips twitched upward. “High praise coming from someone who called me brooding and mysterious.”

“Hey, I call it like I see it,” Faye said with a playful shrug. Then, after a brief pause, she added, “You know, you don’t always have to be so serious.”

Azriel raised a brow. “I’m not serious all the time.”

“Oh?” Faye challenged a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Prove it.”

Before Azriel could respond, Faye reached over and plucked a small flower from the ground, twirling it between her fingers. “Here. Hold this.”

Azriel took the flower, his large scarred hand dwarfing the delicate bloom. He stared at it, unsure what to do.

“Now,” Faye said, leaning closer, “smile.”

Azriel blinked. “What?”

“You heard me. Smile. Come on, I know you can do it.”

Azriel shook his head, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re avoiding the challenge,” Faye shot back, crossing her arms.

With a resigned sigh, Azriel allowed himself a small smile—just enough to satisfy her demand.

“There it is!” Faye declared triumphantly. “See? Not so serious after all.”

Azriel’s smile widened just a fraction. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re trying to be grumpy,” Faye teased, poking him lightly in the side.

Azriel chuckled softly, a sound that surprised even himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed—truly laughed. But with Faye, it felt natural, like breathing.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

As night fell and the stars began to twinkle above, Azriel found himself dreading the moment when he would have to leave. He didn’t want this—didn’t want to say goodbye to Faye and the light she had brought into his life.

But he knew he couldn’t stay forever. His duties in Velaris awaited him, and he had never been one to shirk responsibility.

Still, as he looked at Faye, who was now lying on the grass, pointing out constellations and spinning fanciful tales about them, he felt a longing he couldn’t ignore.

“I have to leave soon,” he said quietly, the words tasting bitter on his tongue.

Faye stilled, her hand pausing mid-gesture. Slowly, she sat up, her expression carefully neutral. “I figured as much.”

Azriel looked away, unable to meet her gaze. “I don’t want to.”

“Then don’t,” Faye said simply.

He turned back to her, surprised. “It’s not that simple.”

Faye sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know. I just…” She trailed off, searching for the right words. “I like having you here, Azriel. You make this place feel… different. Better.”

Her confession took him by surprise, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. But then, before he could overthink it, he reached out and took her hand in his.

“I feel the same way,” he admitted, his voice low. “You make me feel different. Better.”

Faye’s eyes widened slightly, but then she smiled—a soft, genuine smile that made Azriel’s heartache in the best way.

“Then stay a little longer,” she whispered. “Just a little longer.”

Azriel tightened his grip on her hand, a silent promise. “As long as you’ll have me.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist:-

@donnadiddadog @rcarbo1 @onebadassunicorn-blog @wintersquirrel

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[5:11 pm]

(cw: f!reader)

You weren’t sure at exactly what point you’d become comfortable enough to shower at the Nu Chi Theta frat house. You know you’d put some hard work to make the bathroom that your boyfriend used look like it was used by humans and not raccoons. It took hours of scrubbing and letting chemicals sit and work their grime fighting power.

Yet, as you stood beneath the stream of hot water while you washed out your shampoo, you found yourself wondering exactly when this frat house became more like a frat home to you. There were the meals that you shared with the guys here, frat trips you were a part of, you helped clean after parties, and many other chores that you helped out with that made you feel like a part of the fraternity. Things that made you feel accepted and like you belonged even far beyond being fratboy!Jaehyun’s girlfriend.

You sighed, shaking your head as you washed the last of your shampoo out before squirting some of your conditioner into your palm. When had you even bought your usual toiletries for the frat house? Jaehyun must have bought them for you…

As you lathered the conditioner into your hair, you froze. The door, with the broken lock you’d asked Johnny to fix, creaked open. Then you heard, “yo, I’m popping in to take a leak. Stay in the shower, bro.”

You stuck your head out from behind the opaque shower curtain before the person could take any appendages out. It was Yuta. “I’ll be out in like 5 minutes if you want to use the bathroom downstairs,” you told him, making sure to keep your eyes on his face.

“Sweets! What’s up girl?” Yuta greets with a dazzling smile, “nah, it’s all good. You should uh, stick your head back in though unless you want to see my Johnson.”

Your face froze into one of shock as you slowly retreated to your privacy behind the curtain. When had this level of familiarity occurred?

Thankfully, over the stream of water you couldn’t hear him pee, but you did hear him laugh, “hey, just so you know. I was totally about to rag on whoever was using your shit without your permission.”

“Uh, thank you?” You replied while reaching for your body wash.

“Got you, girl. Alright, see you in a bit,” Yuta called out before you heard the door close again.

Just to be safe, you stuck your head out to make sure you were actually alone. “So weird…” you mutter to yourself while doing your last rinse.

As you stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around yourself, the door opened once again to reveal Haechan. “Oh there you are! I’ve been looking for you!” Haechan greets.

“Dude, I’m standing here in a towel. Do you mind?” You ask with a blank look.

“I actually don’t mind!” Haechan exclaims, squeezing past you to sit on the closed toilet lid, “anyway, we’re getting pizza for dinner and I wanted to ask if you were still into those little garlic knots you’ve been ordering. I can place a small order just for you, if you want. Taeyong is letting me order tonight so if you want some wings just for you I can order that too.”

“Haechan! I’m naked right now!” You yell, hoping that it would be obvious that he should not be in the bathroom with you right now.

“Sweetheart, it’s better if we get this awkwardness out of the way now and not on the wedding night. I’m totally body positive. The female body is the most exquisite form in all of mankind,” Haechan tells you with his hands held up in defense.

You roll your eyes with a scoff as you march back to Jaehyun’s room. Unfortunately for you, Johnny and Jaehyun are in the middle of a conversation as you enter the room. Johnny looks at you and sends you a nod while Jaehyun sends you a smile. Did he not notice that you were standing here in just a towel?

“And so I think if we just focus on the alumni for the winter-“ Johnny explains to Jaehyun before being interrupted.

“Oh shit! My girlfriend is naked right now!” Jaehyun exclaims, rushing over to you and pushing you behind him. It seems then that Johnny realizes as his eyes instinctively dart over to you. “Don’t look!” Jaehyun yells as Johnny leaves his room, “we’ll talk about the alumni later.”

Jaehyun shuts the door quickly and turns to you with flushed cheeks. You cross your arms across your chest, “I miss the novelty of being the girl around here. You guys are too comfortable around me.”

“It was just Johnny that saw you like this… right?” Jaehyun asks slowly.

“No! Yuta literally came in to pee and stayed even when I told him it wasn’t me! Then Haechan came in and started talking about dinner! And you told me they were all going out to play soccer!”

Jaehyun runs a tired hand down his face, “I really need Johnny to fix that lock, dude. No one… like saw anything, right?”

“No,” you sigh moving over to your clean clothes to get dressed.

“Good,” Jaehyun replies, wrapping his arms around your waist while pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, “this is for my eyes only, sweet girl.”

“Sure,” you snort, “until the next time I decide to shower here and Jungwoo walks in before I have my towel on.”

“Sweetheart, that’s not funny.”

[mimipolo]

Can u write headcanons for the sakamoto days characters as the animes coming out on Saturday. For ur bestie friendie 😆😆

Sakamoto days x reader headcanons

Yes I will, happy birthday to you. You should be ecstatic rn.

Is the Sakamoto days fandom alive on here??? Hope so.

Shin

He's really obvious about the fact he like you, like reallyyy obvious

Puts extra effort into every little action he does so you think he's cool(he's really not),if you two met in the JCC he'd make sure his entire routine for group assassination missions is basically flawless.

Can't help being curious about what you thought and tunes into your thoughts and has to pretend his face isn't growing hotter by the second as he walks back in line, your inner thoughts of admiration replaying in his head.

Has at least one person(Mr Sakamoto) who he talks to endlessly about you, if he was still an assassin he'd have found it unbearable but now he sits blissfully with a ramen cup in hand as Shin talks away, when his mind wanders to young love and then eventually his wife, Shin snaps at him to pay attention.

Knows a lot about you (most without you knowing but sh), sometimes he just comes up to you and reminds you of something you're about to forget or a question too niche for him to ask and you're like "huh?" and he just blinks at you before going "huh-?"

Takes a deep breath and does that silly shake thing guys do when they're about to run when he's determined to talk to you, ends up folding anyway because he's geeked you asked to eat with him today.

Does the absolute most to keep you out of danger, at the JCC and at the shop, enemies seem to be popping up from anywhere now he and Sakamoto had dropped from the ranks and he didn't want you wrapped up in that.

Cannot flirt, he cannot and it's so embarassing, it's sweet when he tries though, the moment he sees you trying to hold your laugh he just gives up and holds his flushed face as you double over laughing. At least you said he was cute(internally.)

I can imagine you two in his or your room on a hot day, the windows wide open and the fan is blasting in your faces as you split twin popsicles, he thinks you look beautiful even as you sweat profusely and fan your face with your hand.

Nagumo

So annoying, to the point it's almost driving you mad, makes every excuse under the sun to come see you, be it day or night. People often ask how you deal with his unprecedented visits and you can only drag out a sigh and shrug.

Terrible gift giver but it's clear he tries, hands you a beaten up rubber duck and looks at you expectantly when you're not immediately ecstatic (cause what??). He'll explain like some expertise in the science of you that he saw you cooing and feeding ducks one day in the summer five years ago. You look down at the small colourful bird and decide it's actually quite cute, it can go in your random trinket box.

Naturally touchy guy, an arm around your shoulder is not a rare thing but one thing he does get nervous about is holding your hand. Yes he could hold you against his chest for ages as you read out something to him but the idea of holding your has his head in his hands as he squats on the floor.

Would love it if you liked his stupid jokes but would love it even more if you made it your goal to absolutely despite them. He finds the dynamic quite funny. Actively enjoys seeing the way your face crumples up when he cracks a joke at the absolute worst time, something dumb about grannies as the both of you are still panting and painted in blood in a care home of all places.

Not that jealous or possessive but will feel left out when he notices you're hanging out with someone a bit more than him. Will insert himself between you and this new person, mostly unaware he's acting on self preservation to keep himself in your sights.

Shishiba

He's so calm and collected all the time, the concept of him liking someone and that person possibly being you had never crossed your mind and it probably never will.

He likes to praise your work ethic a lot, "Looks good." , "You cleaned them up yourself?" You just nod back with a smile and he's convinced he made the boldest move in the books.

Would want to make absolute certain you like him before saying anything life threateningly risky. Pretty traditional with it, asks you out to eat after work and lets you choose the place. Insists he pays because he earns more than you but he just wanted to treat you. Has a list on his phone of the places you two enjoyed the most and pins them on Maps in case you want to go again.

The type to stare daggers into you while you're busy talking to someone else, when you're done talking he's still looking your way and waits for you to acknowledge him. Sometimes he announces himself, sometimes he'll just walk up beside you and hands your new assignment over which honestly startles you at times.

Wish he could've met you under different circumstances, wherever you're in his line of work or not. He'll never be truly satisfied with the way things are, constantly weighing the options.

For now he's enjoying watching you enjoy your favourite snacks and his heart warms when you offer him a generous bite.

Kashimo

Doesn't know what he's feeling towards you, the only thing he knew was his loyalty to Slur and you were gradually changing that one situation at a time.

It started when you'd apply ointments to where his body disconnected even though he was literally designed to be able to be broken and put back together with no effort. But you put in that effort, insisting he should let you and it'd be beneficial in the long wrong, he liked to believe you.

Often shows up to your cubicle at work just to say good morning then walk away, not even waiting for you to respond. You find it oddly charming and he just likes hearing your giggle as he leaves the office.

He believes you're also one of those people whose never done anything worth damning in their entire life. You're so kind and considerate of him he couldn't even fathom you doing anything wrong. Sometimes he hopes he's still capable of dying just so it could be alongside you, doesn't understand what that means fully though, it's just an ideal.

Likes it when you hold his arm, patting it slightly as you give some feedback on the latest mission. Doesn't understand the point in it but is far from complaining, he enjoys your attention and doting words.

Doesn't like to hold delicate things, like cats he really likes them but has a lingering fear he'd accidentally hurt the small thing. Instead he likes watching you hold these fragile things, pointing to them and you pick them up with a questioning look on your face, he makes a motion for you to scratch it's ears, he's pleased when you do.

(Y'all know like those slime stimboard monkey vids💀💀)

He considers you to also be delicate, so you'll never catch him making a move to touch you even though sometimes his bones ache to, he's fine with the brief touches you give him he couldn't ask for anything more.

Heisuke

He's also helplessly down bad for you, instead he tries his best to be helpful to you but you always seem to one up him in that area, especially when you let him crash at your place. Like a true angel.

Doesn't bother with pickup lines he's tried them out and they're not really his thing but sometimes he says something so heartmoving you pause all together. When he notices your reaction he's completely oblivious he's successfully shot his shot, "Pfft look at ya face."

Piisuke loves you because he does, it's like their brains are interlinked. The bird will catch small sight of you and immediately rush over to perch itself on your shoulder and snuggle its beak into your cheek, it hurts but how could you say no. Heisuke already knows that whenever his small partner did this you were likely around, so he's walking up to you bashfully and taking Piisuke back (he's secretly setting the two of you up.)

Showers you with compliments and praise likes it's nothing, words of affirmation is definitely one of his top love languages on hopefully getting you to like him back. But the moment you reciprocate, admiring his terrifyingly precise sniping skill he's so flushed and hot and fumbling his words he just has to slap a hand over his mouth. Needs a minute before he's chucking softly, his hands smoothly over the rough build of the artillery as he thanks you.

The forgetful sort but not when it comes to you, suddenly he remembers everything. Sometimes he comes to you to say something he needs to remember because it's so much easier when it's your face and voice he remembers reprimanding him.

Dreams of a soft domestic life with you, maybe, if you like, a kid or two to complete the picture and of course the family pet as Piisuke. Grins stupidly to himself at the idea of how he'd propose to you (you're not even together yet.)

[spnfanficpond]

December 2024 Angel Fish Awards

(Angel Fish design by @slytherkins!!)

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words. (Click here to learn more about how to nominate a fic for an award!)

Nominated by @charliethealpaccaso

All That We See Or Seem by xWitchAlchemistx (AO3)

Seeing a Sam shifter fic is just what I think is a rarity in this fandom and I thought this would be a great one for everyone to read.

~*~*~

Nominated by @heavenssexiestangel

Chef's Reward by @leatafandom

I'm gay. Gay for Debriel. And also I can't give coherent comments about this but it's SO them and aaah the softness in the last part and how they clearly love each other but won't say it and argh these two idiots will be the end of me. Anyway, go read Leata's works! They're great and she deserves more attention.

~*~*~

Nominated by @ladylilithprime

How Long Do You Want to Be Loved by rodiniaorzetalthepenguin (AO3)

I love Sam and I love Raphael and stories that explore Raphael healing from their own trauma that put them in a place where they wanted everything to end, and Sam helping them heal while Raphael also helps Sam heal from the crap he's been put through and just sweet tender moments and AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

~*~*~

Nominated by @leatafandom

Into The Green by sallyamongpoison (AO3)

This story is just fantastic! It is an amazing case fic filled with foreshadowing, growing closer, dealing with trauma together, and growing closer though it all. The angst and comfort is just magnificent.

Blood Stained Gold by Gitten (AO3)

Adore the art and this story both are so fantastic. The journey was just incredible, I loved the trials and the concept as a whole. Sam working through his trauma, even if he doesn't remember the experience, and becoming better for it. I adore seeing Gabe as well helping out and their dialogue was really on point. This was a magnificent and compelling story. Definitely a reread. ❤️❤️

~*~*~

Nominated by @masoena

The Choiceless Hope - Fic by: @amypond45 | Art by: @morokollisyo

The premise is intriguing to begin with and the author did a fantastic way of representing Sam’s grief for Dean and realistic aspects of grief sprinkled into it. It made me cry in a number of spots and then there is the amazing art from morokolli to illustrate a number of the different Deans.

Jack The Cat by TammyRenH & kelios (AO3)

Dean as a cat or either brother as animal shifter is my kinda trope. Loved this adorable meet-cute with a Jared who found his backbone towards his no-good ex. Well written and such a feel-good fic.

Once Upon A Blood Moon by @samanddean76

A fantastic vampire SPN RPF J2 fic featuring a crude, sassy Chad as a sidekick. Jared realizes that Jensen isn't just another meal for his blood cravings. Made to a beautiful art prompt by jdl71/jld81.

All The Troubles In My Mind (They Don’t Feel So Bad) by @runawaydr3amerao3

Someone recced this fic on Discord, I have 100% read it before and it is an amazing SPN/SPN RPF crossover starting out with Dean meeting Jensen at a coffee shop in LA. The writing is detailed, engaging, plotty, smoking hot and has humor sprinkled into it effortlessly.

~*~*~

Nominated by @rubyvhs

Midnight Espresso—verse by @zepskies

The writing is so beautiful and so easy and fun to read. I love the angst in the series but also the lovey-dovey moments between Dean and reader, they’re so cute together and it’s one of my favorite series on tumblr!

you always meet twice by @chevroletdean

I loved Dean’s reactions to reader and how flustered he got around them. I enjoyed everything in that fic, it’s one I reread constantly because it gives you that little pit in your stomach when he thinks it’s the wrong number and reader has no idea, and then I’m smiling again when she tells him to call.

~*~*~

Nominated by @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes

Yes, Sir by Nachise (AO3)

Highly recommend. Yes, it’s omegaverse but it’s so cute at the ending too. Oh, love how Cas isn’t seen as intimidating and how Dean is the actually the front man. They’ve also been in love since middle school. It’s adorable!

(Divider by @glygriffe)

THANK YOU ALL, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

- From your Admins and Manta Rays, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @thoughtslikeaminefield, @heavenssexiestangel, @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes, and @manawhaat!

[dixonsstinkysock]

Hey… 😊👋🏽 1/13/25 first writing of the year…

“Good Morning, Daryl!” You wave at the archer from your garden a little down the street, covered in dirt head to toe. You’d gotten lucky recently, finding some of your favorite fruit seeds on a run, after putting it off for weeks on end you decided it was time to get the hard part over with. Putting them in the ground..🙄

Getting nothing but a short wave and twitch of lip from him you get back to work, figuring either he’ll work up the courage to come talk to you now or you’ll see him later.

“Wow. That was the most boring interaction I’ve seen in a while—and trust me I’ve seen a ton.”

Carol walks up from behind Daryl, where the hell she came from who knows, but she always pops up unexpectedly. “What?” Daryl turns to look at her, believing that short interaction was the best part of his day. “Don’t ‘What’ me, you know what I’m talking about.”

He scoffs, looking back at you, secretly hoping you won’t notice his obvious staring. “I dunno’ what you mean..”

“Ha! Sure…I don’t understand why you just won’t talk to her. She’s not going to bite your head off!” Daryl shakes his head and looks down at his feet. “No..”

“Okay, If you won’t, I will. Hey, (Y/N)!” Carol shouts and waves you over as Daryl snaps his head towards her, silently screaming at her to shut up. You look up again, not minding a distraction from all of your hard work. Standing, you make your way over to the two, wiping your hands as best you can on the old rag Daryl found you some days ago. He said he already had one and thought you could use it, Daryl code for I’ve secretly been stalking you and noticed you don’t have anything to clean your hands with after all that sweaty hard work you do in your garden, planting stuff and…like…sweating. (guys im getting off track im sorry)

“Hey guys!” You stick the now dirty rag in your back jeans pocket, greeting them. “It’s nice to see you, Carol, feels like we never see each other anymore” You and her half hug considering you are covered in dirt.

“I know..We should have some girl time soon—uh speaking of spending time together, I heard that a certain someone found a favorite movie of yours.” She glances at Daryl, expectantly, wanting him to say something.

“Uh—yeah, yeah, I kinda js grabbed something y’know..” He looks down at his feet again and clears his throat.

“Anyways…I was thinking, why don’t I take the kids for tonight? Jude’s been wanting to help me bake something and you two can spend some time together!” Carol nudges Daryl with her hip, suggesting something.

“Oh! Well, I’m free! As long as it’s okay with you, Daryl, I don’t mind.”

“Yeah—no, it’s okay, I’m down..” He’s “down”? what the hell is wrong with him?? why would he say that—

“Perfect! Well, I have to get back to the kitchen, I have things…cooking. Bye!” Carol walks off, leaving you and Daryl in this awkward conversation. “So uh…I’ll see you tonight? Around 7?”

He nods, biting his bottom lip. “Mhm..I’ll see you later.”

You smile “Okay…Well, shouldn’t keep those seeds waiting…ha…” You start to slowly walk backwards toward your garden.

“Right—yeah, I’ll see you later.” He turns, slowly walking away and turning a corner, going back to his place to make it look “nice”.

yeah whatever that place is a dump idc. okay guys uh the end.

I haven’t written in a YEAR give me some slack 🤕

love u see u later 😫😫😫

[gardenwalrus]

Norman Jopling interview with Paul McCartney, 'How The Beatles spend an evening', Record Mirror (week ending 15 May 1965) [The Beatles saw Bob Dylan perform on 9 May]

It was a typical quiet evening at London's Savoy Hotel. Quiet that is until the Beatles turned up to see Bob Dylan. They all trouped down to the restaurant and ordered Porridge and Pea Sandwiches.

They got them. Then one of the boys spotted Owls Legs on the menu. They ordered them as a joke. It didn't take too long before the Owls Legs were actually served, piping hot, to the group.

"But we wouldn't have known if they hadn't been Owls Legs" said Paul.

An evening out for the Beatles is something of a rarity nowadays. The boys are leading almost entirely self-contained lives and the latest development of theirs to entertain themselves are film projectors.

"We've all bought 16mm film projectors with sound and everything," explained Paul. "And we hire loads of films - it's surprising but you can get some of the really latest top films. For instance I've got "Topkapi" and "Tom Jones". And we hire some of Elvis's films too … I like them in the same way that I like "Double Your Money."

JOHN'S HOUSE - LIKE A CINEMA

"The projectors cost a lot of money, about two hundred quid I think. But they're worthwhile to us at least, because we don't get a chance to get out and see these films. John is the really keen one. He has it all organised, showing two films a night now. It's just like a cinema round his place. We all sit there eyes glued to the screen. And he doesn't start showing them until late, well, after television has finished and none of us get to bed until fantastically late hours.

"We all sit bleary-eyed in front of the screen making signs with our hands on the screen - little animals and all that ...

"So far we haven't got a copy of "Hard Day's Night". Not that it bothers me. I didn't like the film anyway. Seriously, I mean that. The original novelty or seeing yourself on screen wears off. You know, like home movies of yourself at the seaside. The good thing is that at least you can come out with anecdotes every ten seconds about what happened behind the scenes."

Paul talked about the Beatles next film, "Help".

"l like this one better. It has been great filming it. But all the residents of the Bahamas hated us. Really. They're so rich there and they were so rude to us that we just didn't care. We all rented Triumph Spitfires and drove them around the island. They didn't like that either.

"But there are some good scenes from the film. There are shots of us in a disused quarry, using it as a race track. We found it when we were waiting for the technicians. We were screeching around it like mad. Well, they filmed it slyly and put it in the film. Just like that.

"There are no speeded up shots, like in "A Hard Day's Night", but there arc some other visual gimmicks. Like standing on a rock In the middle or the ocean playing our instruments. And the next shot with us up to our necks in water, still playing. And one of Ringo, lying on his stomach on the beach swimming in the sand.'"

PAUL DIDN'T LIKE "TICKET"

Then Paul started to sing the Beatles next disc "Help" to us, taking the part of all the voices, and even the backing. He maintains it's much better than "Ticket To Ride".

"Can't say I liked 'Ticket' much," he stated. "But this new one is - in my opinion - good. I hope I don't sound big-headed. But I like it - it's certainly the fastest record we've made and it's very different. It's a bit like the middle eight in "It Won't Be Long" …

"I think that John and I are writing different sort of songs to what we were a couple of years back. I can't say whether they're better or worse but they're certainly different. And that is O.K. by us because we wouldn't want to stand still, to stagnate musically."

Somehow I can't imagine the Beatles ever doing that...

[milkb0nny]

I would like to request sth 🥰

Could you write one with reader being daughter of a great king and shes married with Ivar and she hears Margrethe talking bad about him and he hears, gets really sad and reader sees just red and gets really mad and Ivar just loves how she is just as tyrannt as him?

I would totally understand if you dont want to write it.

Anyways I hope you have a great day ❤️

Fury Amongst Us

Pairing: Ivar x fem!reader

Summary: Despite the forced marriage between you and Ivar, the two of you developed some sort of adoration. Still, you didn’t exchange much words to one another, until that one evening; you could not stand Magrethe talking bad about your husband.

Note: Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you will like it! I made Reader a little more tame than Ivar, but still fierce and respectable. I had quite some fun writing this. Have a lovely day anon. <3

Content: established relationship, swearing, arguing, fluff, blood

Word count: ~1400

You prepared yourself for the festivities in the grand hall as your people prepared to celebrate the successes of the recent raids and the goods they had brought back. Each time the warriors returned, your father made the journey to Kattegat for the grand celebrations. He always claimed he came to see you, his daughter, but you knew he was drawn to the infamous vibrance of the town. You loved your father, and you couldn’t complain about seeing him. You had grown accustomed to these occasions, yet tonight was more exciting than the festivities before: it was your first evening in the grand hall as a married woman.

Your marriage to Ivar Ragnarsson, the son of Ragnar Lothbrok, was not born of love but of strategy - a political alliance to unite your families and strengthen ties between your folk. It was an act of power, not passion. Therefore you met with prejudice and discomfort, which vanished quickly. You did not begrudge your fate. The man could have been an ugly, aging warrior; instead, you were married to a man who was young, complex, and intriguing.

You had heard of Ivar's reputation long before meeting him. His anger and cruelty were legendary, and those who spoke of him did so with both fear and awe. Yet in the months since your marriage, you had glimpsed a different side to him, one the world rarely saw. His legs, which many deemed a weakness, were not so to him. His ambitious will and sharp mind more than compensated for any physical limitation. You found this quality admirable, even endearing. But with his strength came a quiet torment. You have experienced his rage, however, it was never turned on you but others. As if he tried to spare you from his ugliness, which you appreciated. He cared somewhat about his wife.

Over the past week, you had tried to overcome the distance between you and Ivar, seeking moments of closeness and tenderness. Yet he remained distant, avoiding your affections not with cruelty but with a quiet humility that suggested he believed himself unworthy of your love. He declined intimate acts, and your efforts to make up for the lack of romance between you. Who would have thought that Ivar the Boneless, the man feared across lands, carried such a burden of self-doubt? You respected his boundaries, offering him space but showing your care in subtle ways. And with each glance, each moment shared in silence, you felt a growing pull in your heart. You watched him, often questioning what thoughts stirred his mind. Was this marriage beginning to blossom into something real? If not, why did you feel those emotions then? You weren’t sure, but you found yourself eager to explore.

As Magrethe and another woman helped you dress, their usual gossip floated around the room. You paid little attention to it, your mind drifting to thoughts of Ivar. Magrethe’s sharp tongue often spilled tea, and though her stories rarely concerned you, today her words felt especially bitter. She rambled on about a couple who had argued loudly the night before, her tone dismissive and mocking.

The room quieted when Ivar appeared in the doorway. His presence was commanding, his piercing blue eyes immediately finding yours. For a fleeting moment, you thought he might say something, but he quickly averted his gaze, moving into the next room where his brothers waited. The door remained slightly open, and you caught him glancing back, as though reluctant to leave the sight of you.

Magrethe noticed your melancholic expression and, despite the envy that often laced her words, she tried to comfort you. "Ivar is not only ruthless in battle but also with the people closest to him," she said, her voice deceptively soft. "You should be careful, my lady. His anger might one day find you, too."

Her words, though spoken with genuine concern, carried a hidden mischief. You replied calmly, your tone steady.

"I appreciate your concern, Magrethe, but I am his wife, not the cause of his fury."

Your chest tightened at her cruel words, but you remained composed. Through the mirror, you saw Ivar just beyond the door, his head bowed as if trying to shrink away. His brothers’ laughter did little to drown out the sting of Magrethe’s remarks, and you knew he had heard every word. His eyes reflected the self hatred and disgust he owned for himself, and that alone hurt you.

"But haven’t you noticed?" she pressed, her voice growing sharper. "He cares only for power and pays no mind to the cost of his ambitions. He would hurt anyone to achieve importance. Yet, no matter how much power he has, he will always remain a cripple - a man who must rely on others to carry him."

With curiosity, you encouraged her to continue. "Go on," you said calmly.

Though the fire in your heart burned hotter with every passing moment. You set a trap for her to step in, and so she did.

Magrethe leaned closer, her tone dripping with mean words. "I pity you, my lady, being tied to such a man. The worst of it is that Ivar doesn’t love anyone… not even himself. He pushes everyone away. That’s why he’ll always be alone, no matter how powerful he becomes."

Her words were the final spark. Fury surged within you, and you turned to face her, your gaze cold and unyielding. Through the open door, you caught a glimpse of Ivar, his shoulders stiff, bracing for what he assumed would be your agreement with Magrethe’s cruel assessment. He clearly expected you to complain and cry. But what came next was far from what anyone expected.

Without warning, your hand struck Magrethe’s cheek with a sharp small object, the force sending her stumbling backward and falling to ground. Blood welled from a thin cut where your hidden blade had grazed her pure skin. Her shocked whimpers filled the room as she clutched her face.

Ubbe burst into the room, his expression one of alarm. Before he could speak, you turned to him, your voice cutting through the tension like steel.

"You allow such insolence to fester in your household, Ubbe? This woman insults your brother and dares to do so in my presence."

Magrethe sobbed before you, her arrogance shattered. Kneeling, you grasped her chin, forcing her to meet your gaze.

"You speak of my husband as though you understand him, but you know nothing of his strength, his pain. You, Magrethe, are nothing more than a jealous, envious snake, slithering beneath the feet of those greater than you." You continued to torment her, not letting that behavior go. „How can you speak of self esteem when you’re reeking of jealousy? How can you act as if you’re above him?“

Your voice softened, but each word carried the weight of your fury.

"If Ivar is broken, then I will carry him. If the world taunts him, I will silence it. And if you or anyone else dares to challenge him, I will make the gods themselves regret it. The world will burn in flames, and I will cause it if someone dares to question us, our marriage or our love."

As you stepped into the hall, the cool air brushing against your flushed skin, you found Ivar waiting. His blue eyes were filled with a mixture of awe and longing. For the first time, he reached for your hand, his touch tentative but warm.

The room was silent, only for Magrethe’s soft sobs. Even Ubbe was speechless, his gaze flicking between you and the trembling woman at your feet. You rose, your movements deliberate and commanding, and turned to Ubbe.

"Teach her to learn her place. If I hear another insult, I will not stop at a scar."

"You didn’t have to do that," he said softly, his voice laced with emotion.

For the first time, Ivar allowed himself to believe that perhaps he was worthy of such love. The anger he owned, he burdened himself with, now was shared with you.

Meeting his gaze, you replied with quiet intensity.

"I would do it again, Ivar. You are my husband, and I will not let anyone, not even you, think you are less than what you are."

[luvnanako]

Caitvi Modern Au HCs

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Intro

Heyyyy this is my first ever post on tumblr!! I'm gonna do an actual intro later BUT needless to say I hope you enjoy aaaaaand keep in mind that english isn't my first language! I'd be so so happy to get some moots through this, I'll try to post something regularly and I'm open to any requests! 𖹭

------------︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶----------

Movies

Their movie tastes are pretty different - Vi loves Adventure and thriller movies while Cait enjoys either cute romcoms or murder documentaries (obviously hehe). They even 'argue' about movies on their movie nights. They somehow... always end up watching something stupid like Jumanji 2 for the 10000th time.

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"I wonder what will happen next I'm soooo excited" (Vi says while munching on popcorn that Cait made for her.)

"Vi we've seen this movie multiple times, he's gonna get eaten by a crocodile" (Cait chuckles softly)

"STOP SPOILING"

Music

Vi is the type of person that LOVES listening to music without headphones. She literally blasts it loudly, not caring about people around her.

On the other hand - Cait is always the one complaining about it, MOSTLY when she blasts it during her work time. "OH MY GOD VIOLET" and that's how Vi knows it's either really bad or good when she says her full name, aaand spoiler alert, it's not so good. She can't be mad at her for long though, all it takes is just one sweet kiss and Cait is not mad anymore...

... until Vi turns it on again.

𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹࣭⭑✴︎˚｡⋆˖ ࣪ ⊹𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹࣭⭑✴︎˚｡⋆˖ ࣪ ⊹𖥔‧₊˚ ⊹࣭⭑✴︎˚｡⋆˖ ࣪ ⊹

Shopping

"This looks stupid on me" (Vi says as she's trying on a shirt in the cabins, Caitlyn peeking in)

"What are you talking about? you look amazing" (Caitlyn looks up and down her with a little smile)

"I don't need 8 different pairs of socks"

"Yes you do now shush, we're buying them"

"You'd look hot in this" (Vi smirks and shows her a pair of dark red lingerie)

"You'd look way hotter in this" (Cait points at a grinch onesie)

And that's how every single shopping day ends up with these two. Caitlyn basically DRAGGING Vi with her. She might not say it out loud, but she actually loves helping Cait find the perfect size of clothes and show her random stuff she found.

Phone

Caitlyn loves keeping her social media organized. Like REALLY organized. Her gallery is full of pretty and aesthetic pictures she took with a few blurry and funny selfies that Vi lefts for her everytime she finds her phone out of Caitlyn's touch. She keeps them anyway -because she thinks they're adorable- in a little folder named 'Vi being stupid again'.

(Selfies like these )

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Driving

Vi is most of the time the driver and she always shows off her skills on highways. A little habit of hers is holding Caitlyn's hand and squeezing it from time to time while driving. She's a sucker for her soft hands and the fact that they fit perfectly into hers.

Though.. Vi can't do rides during night, Cait is way more careful and respects every single road rule everrrr. Vi just ends up sleeping in the passenger's seat out of boredom when she drives.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Hair

Vi never goes to a hairdresser or hairstylist, she fully trusts in Caitlyns cutting abilities (or should I say scissoring abilities).

(She was so hot with long hair icl)

No matter how many times Vi asks for a specific haircut, Cait always does what she thinks will look the best on her. She also banned her from using any hair dyes. She did so after Vi's hair dye accidentally dyed her hair ends purple instead of blue. She just wanted to have a little part on her that reminded her of Cait. It was a complete fail as it took a long time for Cait to chop those ends.

Kids

Caitlyn has a huge soft side when she's with little kids and loves playing with them. If it's building secret bases with pillows, painting cute drawings or helping them build legos. It's her little passion meanwhile Vi always watches her, she's not as good with kids. she tries but the kids are always a bit scared of her, at least until she does some stupid things with them like holding them up and acting like they're flying. And they end up loving it, she's like their human roller-coaster. Caitlyn sometimes can't help it, but be a little bit too overprotective over them.

"VI PUT THAT KID DOWN"

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you so much for reading !! 𖹭

[scaryscarecrows]

Tim is absolutely concerned that a Jokerized Batman is roaming Gotham. He’s a little more concerned that a literal army is invading Gotham. But right now, he’s just. Awkwardly sitting here.

Barbara’s alive, he keeps telling himself. Babs is okay. It’s a great feeling. Not that it’s helping him at all. He’s still stuck here, with nothing to do besides fiddle, for the thousandth time, with his communication unit and exchange steadily more commiserating glances with Harley Quinn.

“Hey, birdie. Wanna play pat-a-cake?” She grins at him, broken, and starts clapping slowly, sometimes putting her hands flat against the glass where he’s supposed to mimic her. “Aw, c’mon, Robin! We’re stuck ‘ere ‘til Bats comes to let us out.”

“He’s not letting you out,” he reminds her. She shrugs.

“Yeah…probably not. Oh, well…I could get used to Mistah J with bigger shoulders.”

Tim shudders. He doesn’t want this conversation. He’ll fix this. Bruce might have to spend some time-a lot of time-locked away, but he’ll fix this. He’s not really showing symptoms, there’s still time, he can—

BAM!

Oh no.

“Secure the area,” someone growls. “Get those doors locked down, fix the voice recognition lock. I don’t want him getting back in here if he gets loose.”

Well. Shit.

“Yessir.”

Tim’s fingers tighten around the little canister in his hand. The Arkham Knight was here before, God knows why, and he…took pity, is Tim’s best guess, tossed him a thing of mace. Held him at gunpoint the whole time, but still. Him-or his men, anyway, Tim hasn’t heard the man himself-being back here can only be bad.

But he’s not going down without a fight.

“Aww, miss me?” Harley calls, leaning against the glass. A second later, one of the soldiers enters the room. “Didn’t yer mama ever tell ya to take yer hat off to a lady?”

He ignores her in favor of nudging Henry’s bloody corpse and calling, “Hey, boss, you want me to move these outta the middle of the floor?”

Presumably the Knight is here, then. But he doesn’t answer.

“He says yeah!” somebody shouts from the elevator.

Okay?

This isn’t weird, not to the guy, because he leans down, grabs Henry’s wrists with a grimace, and starts pulling.

“Hey, Robin,” he says. “You, uh, you need food or anything? You’re not gonna die of dehydration in there, are you?”

No. These cells have the sad ‘healthy’ energy bars Bruce hands over if anyone dares to say, ‘hey, B, I’m hungry, how about Goth-King?��� They also have water bottles.

“You could let me out,” he says flatly. The guy stops mid-drag and fixes him with an exasperated expression.

“How stupid do you think I am.”

“Most thugs in this city are pretty damn dumb.”

“You know what, that’s fair.”

He doesn’t even try to move Albert King. He looks at him, sure, but then he calls over, “Trent! Come move this guy!”

“Chihuahua,” a voice rumbles in amusement. The other man holds up a middle finger.

“You’re just a freak. I’m not moving him when I can make you do it, so c’mere.”

Another man, this one around Albert’s size, enters. He laughs at the first one before leaning down, grabbing the ankles, and pulling the big man’s remains off towards the side.

Others file in, now. A man with some kind of computer and an antennae strapped to his back, a medic, a—

Holy shit.

Tim blinks, hoping he’s having a moment of…of…tired. Stress. Something. He’s not. Jason Todd is still standing not ten feet away. He’s older, obviously, but even without the brand on his face, he’s still recognizable.

It makes sense, in a horrible sort of way. They never found him, not even a…a likely match. The only thing they had was that tape, and Robin’s burned, bloody cape. Sure, Tim wouldn’t have thought he could do something like this–Jason was reckless and impulsive, this seems way too calculated–but he has the motive, and…well…

Oh my God.

Jason’s (??????) holding an ice pack to his throat, and the medic’s hissing at him like an angry goose.

“—talk, I said, keep your mouth shut, I said! You pay me to know this shit! That is my job! You are making it very hard for me to do my job, and so help me, if you make so much as a peep before I clear you—”

They’re just…completely ignoring him. He guesses it’s better than killing him, but. What do they want? What is going on around here?

Jason starts coughing and an older man thumps Medic between the shoulders.

“Good going. You broke him.” Then a gentler, “Maybe siddown, sir. You don’t look so good.”

No. No, he doesn’t. Ice pack aside, scars aside, he’s swaying on his feet and he looks green. He doesn’t fight, either, when the older man guides him to the examination table and gives him a nudge to make him sit down.

“There we go…you good? You’re not gonna pass out or anything?”

Jason shakes his head and adjusts the pack against his throat before flopping onto his back and rasping, “Gimme a minute.”

“No talking!” Medic shouts from across the room. He is ignored.

“Drouot.” First Man-okay, so he has a name now-is there in seconds. “Bring Robin up to speed, I can’t—”

“You got it, boss.”

Tim is so confused. They don’t seem to be here to hurt him, but they’ve been trying to kill Bruce all night, and Jason isn’t as dead as they thought and—

Drouot comes over to stand in front of the glass. He makes no move to let Tim out, but he does seem to be doing his best to look non-threatening. Well. As non-threatening as possible, being armed to the teeth and all.

“You doing okay in there?”

“Spare me the good cop routine.”

“You try to be nice…fine.” He straightens up and clasps his hands behind his back. “Our understanding is that Batman’s ability to fight the effects of the TITAN disease is shaky at best, and we have secured him to prevent him from harming others. Namely us.” He gives Tim a chilly smile and Tim wonders, then, how much these guys know. “Scarecrow’s Cloudburst was probably the catalyst—” What. “—but in hindsight, he’s been, uh. Not okay for most of the night—”

He’s cut off by Harley pounding her fists on the glass and screaming, “He’s takin’ afta my puddin’, and he’s gonna be perfect! You leave him alone, ya big meanie!”

Everybody cringes, and the big guy, Trent, twists around and steps over to her cell.

“Zip it, clown.”

Harley peers around him and lights up like a Christmas tree.

“Baby boy!” Huh-oh. This can’t be good. “Where have you been?”

Jason lifts a hand to flip her off before letting it dangle off the table. Trent smacks his palm against the glass and growls, “I said, zip it.”

“Make me.”

He looks tempted. Instead, he looks down at the keypad, pushes a button, and the soundproof panes slide into place. Harley isn’t happy about this. Drouot rubs his temples and mutters, “Too many freaks in this town…should’ve just blown it up from the sea and picked through the rubble for the bastard’s remains…anyways. I don’t like this situation any more than you do—”

“You took Gotham hostage!”

Drouot’s eye twitches. Behind him, the computer flashes red as somebody types on the keyboard. Harley’s blurry shape continues pounding on the glass. A Riddler trophy glows sickly green in the vents. (That had been wild-a bunch of robots had just…come in, placed the trophies, and left. Except for a few of them that went deeper into the studio and never came back.)

“I was going to let you out to try and stop Scarecrow.”

“He’s your boss.”

There’s a burst of offended chatter. Drouot looks like he wants to bang his head against the nearest wall.

“He’s a client, and that contract has been terminated at our discretion due to. Ah. Creative differences.” There’s laughter behind him. “And also a critical lack of communication, and unnecessary endangerment.” That’s their problem. It’s not like Scarecrow’s ever made an effort to hide his motivations. Well. Unless he has a bigger, more horrible plan to unveil. “And he creeps me out, so I don’t feel too bad.”

Does Tim recognize that as an attempt to convince him that they’re friendly? Yeah. Does he care? Only a little.

“That’s sort of his thing.”

“Really. I had no idea.” He looks at the keypad. “Are you going to leap at me and try to bash my head against the floor if I let you out?”

Honestly, probably not. He could get this one. He could feasibly take one more before the others start shooting, but if they’ve locked down the front door, who knows what else they’ve done. The odds of him getting out of here alive after mounting an attack are slim at best. For now, playing along is his best option.

“No.”

“Want me to open the cell, sir?”

Jason’s sitting up again, slumped forward with his free hand steadying himself against the side of the table. For a minute, Tim thinks he’ll say no-expects him to, even-but he nods, just once, and rasps, “He tries anything, put a bullet through his head.”

Ouch.

“Yessir.”

Drouot taps at the keypad until the door opens and steps back. The computer is no longer flashing red, which is disturbing, given the circumstances. But it’ll alert Barbara, if she hasn’t been already. Who knows what she’ll be able to do, with Bruce…somewhere…, but he’ll take it.

Jason looks at him and Tim…Tim doesn’t know what to say, if anything. How, exactly, do you make amends for…for…everything, basically. All of it. He hadn’t really expected, or wanted, to be Robin. He’d wanted Batman to stop half-murdering people, to help find Robin.

Something tells him that’s not going to go over well with Jason, or his little bodyguards. Uh. Big bodyguards. Minions.

“Thank you,” he finally forces out. Jason shrugs.

“I don’t like this any more than you do.”

That’s not surprising. This is one of the top five most awkward moments of Tim’s life, right after telling Bruce Wayne, ‘you’re Batman’ and having a horrible stare-off for two whole minutes.

“We’re sure he’s not, like, Joker Junior or anything, right?” Drouot says from behind him. Oh, that is it—

“Yeah. I mean, I’m all for bludgeoning him over the head and taking a blood saaaaample—”

“Stop. Talking.”

“—but I think Batman did that already, because his file’s clean.”

Of course Jason’s seen his file. Tim doesn’t think he likes this tidbit of knowledge.

“I’m standing right here.”

“That’s good.” He just said-! “What now, boss?”

Jason eyes Harley’s cell and swallows a few times before saying, “Sweep the whole building. You see any jack-in-the-boxes, shoot them from a distance, they’re explosive. Leave Riddler’s bullshit alone.”

“Yessir. You, uh, you coming with?”

“No. Robin and I are going to have a talk--no. I do not need a babysitter. Get going.”

They go, but none of them look too pleased. When the doors are shut, he stands up and makes his way to the computers to bring up the cameras. Tim wonders what to do.

“I thought about killing you, you know.” Where’s his staff. Bruce took it from him earlier and he would like it back. “Thought maybe I’d send your corpse back to B in a bird cage.”

Well. This is awkward.

“I’m…sorry?”

Jason snorts.

“Been hearing that a lot tonight.” He frowns and taps the intercom button. “There’s a back entrance behind the haunted house set. Seal it off.” Somebody throws a salute at the camera. Jason stumbles back onto the examination table and drops the half-thawed ice pack down next to him. “I’m not telling you where we left him,” he continues. “He’s out of control. He won’t stop laughing.”

Brr. Tim’s grateful, a little, that he’s been spared that sight. Bruce laughs, it’s not that. But his laugh is…warm. Deep and easy to miss if you’re not listening. Something tells him that’s not what was happening.

“What are you doing?”

“You didn’t really think I went into this without having a ‘ruin Scarecrow’s life’ plan.”

“I thought you were friends now.”

“You thought wrong.”

Maybe.

Tim considers trying to knock Jason out; there’s sedatives in that fridge, fast-acting ones. But he doesn’t know where Bruce is, Scarecrow is at large, and he’s not sure about, like allergies. The last thing he wants is to accidentally kill Jason for real this time.

Or for those sedatives to take a little too long, thus giving Jason the opportunity to kill Tim. That’s not good, either.

“Don’t get any ideas, Drake.” Damn. “You’re out of that cell because this is an all-hands-on-deck situation. Try anything, and I will put you down.” The or my men will is very much implied. “Scarecrow has Gordon.”

Somebody always has Gordon. Tim likes the man, but...but...honestly, over the years, he’s been kidnapped more than all three Robins combined.

His face must say as much, because Jason shrugs and says, “I know. Shocker, right? We know where he is, we’re going to handle it. But as much as it pains me to admit it, you can make yourself useful.”

[donuts4evry1]

Not to like eavesdrop on your tags but can I also request the sewing tutorials you have saved?

omg sorry for taking so long on this i saw the ask and promptly forgot about it ;w;!!

anyways... Yeah ^-^, I can share a couple of videos that I like!

I'll start with the most important and influential video of my sewing career- this one comes from BudgetHobby and I adore every single one of her videos so, so much. I suggest committing the back stitch and ladder stitch to memory- I use those regularly for all sorts of sewing projects ;w;

This one is also massively, MASSIVELY important. This is a super fast way to tie off hand-stitched seams and I wish I knew it sooner lol

Here's one I was interested in for a while (but never got around to trying). This one in particular was very intriguing and I ended up using this as an inspiration for the clothing design of one of my characters...

And finally, um... Idk if I already sent it but since I enjoyed this tutorial a lot I'll send it again :). I made a really cute orange-shaped beret with it once and I never stop getting compliments when I wear it lol. Maybe I should do a jellyfish beret next...

As a bonus, here's the video I use to tie "floppy bows" (Since I wear a lot of button-ups, this one is very important for me lol). Making the bow itself is actually quite easy- I could make a tutorial on it myself if I wanted to lol.

[zeroducks-2]

Do you have an essential Dick Grayson comics reading list?? Especially sladick related 👉👈 I feel like I’m always hearing about fun interactions between them, but no one ever lists from what comics 😭🥺

Of course!

You can find lots of good stuff in Devin Grayson's Nightwing 1996. I suggest taking a look at #80 to #83, Dick and Slade have iconic interactions in those issues. Like this one!

(from #82 specifically)

There's also the whole "renegade arc" which spans from #110 to #115, and it has stuff like the Message Received in Dick's bathroom, and "Nightstroke". I feel we don't talk enough about Nightstroke lol.

I really recommend Nightwing 1996 in general anyway. Not all of it is good (we could really do without the racism), but it does have some of the most Iconic Dick Grayson Moments, and it's really fun and engaging. The whole Tarantula thing happens in that one btw.

For some of the more Old School flavor of both characters, I suggest reading some New Teen Titans issues from the 80s, especially The Judas Contract (yep the one with Tara), since it has Slade's first apparition and some really badass moments.

I personally am a big fan of that brief but memorable time where Dick was Batman and Damian Robin - I feel Dick's storyline really peaked with that arc and we never got even close to that ever again (it would be Batman & Robin by Grant Morrison, and I also HIGHLY RECOMMEND Black Mirror by Scott Snyder). Slade and Dick have a couple of memorable interactions during that run but nothing too significant.

For something with a more modern flavor, unfortunately there isn't much except Dark Crisis. You know, from where the whole "You were always the trophy, Grayson. Why would I waste my time with anyone else?" gayass speech comes from.

(this one, from Dark Crisis #2 specifically)

And then there's also that whole part with Dick and Slade fighting as their selves from pre-N52 and all that. I mean I'm not a fan of Dark Crisis, but at least Joshua made it gay and I love him for it.

I wouldn't be able to tell you with absolute certainty what are the "essential" Dick Grayson comics to read though, because unlike characters such as Barry or Clark, Dick has changed SO MUCH post reboot, especially when it comes to Tom Taylor's run. And as much as I tend to shit on Taylor's run and many more modern comics, I can't in good conscience call out of character the past 15 years of Nightwing/Dick Grayson. I recognize that Dick is sadly not the same character he used to be preboot, so most of what you read from before the N52 is essentially obsolete when it comes to Dick's personality (also his competence and the respect the superheroes community had for him tend to be spotty at best).

But yeah my point is that my "Dick Grayson essentials" are oldies, but they're still some of my favorite stories and I would highly recommend reading those over the modern slop that has been the Nightwing comics for a while now.

So to make a quick recap, for any Dick Grayson fan I would suggest reading Devin Grayson's 1996 run, The New Teen Titans by Wolfman and Perez, and Batman & Robin by Grant Morrison. Black Mirror by Scott Snyder is my all time favorite Dick Grayson comic.

[averlym]

litany of the martyrs (click for better resolution!)

[swordmaid]

i am wide awake thinking about that post canon jb au again when I should be sleeping …!!! such is the nature of the jbrainrot…

[heyclickadee]

Okay but for all we know Saw and his buddies picked Tech up (alive) on Eriadu.