#dust to dawn light

[go-bright]

LED Night light,

(1) Item No.: CE048-2

(2) Specification: AC230V, 50Hz, 1W max, Light color: White or Warm white

(3) Material: ABS

(4) Product size: diameter 72mm

(5) Plug into socket--ON, Plug out of socket--Off

(6) CE, ROHS, GS approved

(7) Packing: 1pcs/blister card or customized packaging

(8) Places of use: bedroom, corridor, hallway, bathroom, living room, children's room, etc.

(9) MOQ: 5000pcs/image

(10) Payment terms: T/T, L/C, West Union, X-transfer

[columboscreens]

[efkayay]

Gojo being the source of all of Ijichi’s stress in 4K

[wizardlyghost]

just wanna fuckin. rip the roof off of my living room so i can get some fucking SUNLIGHT in here!

[dfl-inc]

AI image generation

[liuisi]

Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind, and said: “Who is this who darkens counsel by words without knowledge? Now prepare yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer Me.

Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? Tell Me, if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements? Surely you know! Or who stretched the line upon it? To what were its foundations fastened? Or who laid its cornerstone, when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy? Or who shut in the sea with doors, when it burst forth and issued from the womb; when I made the clouds its garment, and thick darkness its swaddling band; when I fixed My limit for it, and set bars and doors; when I said, ‘This far you may come, but no farther, And here your proud waves must stop!’

Have you commanded the morning since your days began, and caused the dawn to know its place, that it might take hold of the ends of the earth, and the wicked be shaken out of it? It takes on form like clay under a seal, and stands out like a garment. From the wicked their light is withheld, and the upraised arm is broken.

Have you entered the springs of the sea? Or have you walked in search of the depths? Have the gates of death been revealed to you? Or have you seen the doors of the shadow of death? Have you comprehended the breadth of the earth? Tell Me, if you know all this. Where is the way to the dwelling of light? And darkness, where is its place, that you may take it to its territory, that you may know the paths to its home? Do you know it, because you were born then, or because the number of your days is great? Have you entered the treasury of snow, or have you seen the treasury of hail, which I have reserved for the time of trouble, for the day of battle and war? By what way is light diffused, or the east wind scattered over the earth?

Who has divided a channel for the overflowing water, or a path for the thunderbolt, to cause it to rain on a land where there is no one, a wilderness in which there is no man; to satisfy the desolate waste, and cause to spring forth the growth of tender grass? Has the rain a father? Or who has begotten the drops of dew? From whose womb comes the ice? And the frost of heaven, who gives it birth? The waters harden like stone, and the surface of the deep is frozen. Can you bind the cluster of the Pleiades, Or loose the belt of Orion? Can you bring out Mazzaroth in its season? Or can you guide the Great Bear with its cubs? Do you know the ordinances of the heavens? Can you set their dominion over the earth?

Can you lift up your voice to the clouds, that an abundance of water may cover you? Can you send out lightnings, that they may go, and say to you, ‘Here we are! ’? Who has put wisdom in the mind? Or who has given understanding to the heart? Who can number the clouds by wisdom? Or who can pour out the bottles of heaven, when the dust hardens in clumps, and the clods cling together? Can you hunt the prey for the lion, or satisfy the appetite of the young lions, When they crouch in their dens, or lurk in their lairs to lie in wait? Who provides food for the raven, when its young ones cry to God, and wander about for lack of food?'

Job 38:1-41

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: toxic relationship, obsessiveness, possessiveness, denied break-up, abuse, manipulation, ish-kidnapping

♡ inspired by this by the lovely @eevwrites

♡ FEM reader

You’d wanted to be nicer about it. You’d planned it carefully, actually—even written down the words you were going to say in several drafts on your notes app. 

This was his fault—his fault that things were ending this way—his fault for making you do it now and not someplace else, someplace private where you could talk properly and do it right. Yes, this wasn’t what you wanted—this is what he’d made it be by forcing your hand—forcing your hand to throw a drink in his face in front of an entire crowd of drunk and dancing onlookers, as well as a handful of your mutual friends.

“Grow the fuck up!” you bark, taking on a hostile stance by placing your kitten heel down hard���glaring at him in all manners of vicious. “I’m not your property—and after this night, I’m not your girl either.”

No—it wasn’t how you wanted to end things—breaking up is something that should be done carefully—responsibly, and at the very least sensibly—not drunk or in the heat of a moment in some club a late Saturday night, but that’s how he’d made it happen. Always on you like a dog with a bone, a pest to your party—asking you to drink less, to wear more, to stop dancing like that, and to go home early with him. Fuck that, and fuck him. For the last time.

You glower at him for a moment—wanting to see your words solidify as they dawn on his shell-shocked face dripping with your drink. You watch long enough to catch his cheeks start to pool with bright, chagrinned pink—even in the dim club lights—before ripping your wrist out from his grip and stomping away from him, back into the crowd of sweaty, indiscriminate bodies all having fun to the beat of the drum and bass blasting over the speakers.

You might apologize for it tomorrow—tell him you hadn’t meant for it to come out like that, then break up properly as you’d intended with your well-written note at a Sunday cafe. But right now, you just want to dance. Hell, that’s what you’d come here to do—not to stand pretty between his arms and listen to him whine about all the people checking you out. Jeez—a fucking party pooper if there ever was one, and an insecure loser at that.

Your relationship ended mere moments ago, but you’re already feeling fantastic—ecstatic even—freed and light as a feather, like a big burdensome weight has just been dusted off your shoulders and given you a squeaky-clean break. In fact, with the way you’re feeling right now, not to mention the way you’re looking—hair right and makeup done up drop-dead gorgeous in your perfect little black dress hot as all hell—you might very well go home with someone else.

Is what you think in your alcohol-induced head—looking back at the guy who’s rubbing back into your grinding, thinking he’s quite a solid rebound. He even buys you another drink! Then two, then three, and ooh wee, guess who’s going home with a hot stranger!

The two of you stumble out of the club together—drunk and dumb and giggly, ready to order a cab to his place. It would be the first time in a very long time you’d have a one-night stand, but you have no mind to rethink it. On cloud nine, where you cling to the good-looker—as though you were scared he’d slip through your fingers if you let go for even a moment—as if you’d been denied a fun time for so long, you feared someone might come and take the thrill away.

“There you are,” a voice breaks your laughter, cracking the bright smile on your face. “Finally done?”

You go quiet, and so does the world around you—stopping dead in your tracks, you look up through your lashes as if ashamed to meet his gaze—knowing it would be harsh.

“And who are you supposed to be?” tonight’s unfortunate boytoy cocks his head.

Your boyfriend–no—your ex-boyfriend squares up, folding his arms upon his puffed chest, arms that look more threatening than you remember, then cocks his chin with an unamused face. “I’m her boyfriend.”

“Pfft—no, you’re not,” you slur with a scoff, shaking your head, trying to sober up. “I broke up with you.”

Your ex doesn’t find it as funny, giving you a steely glare while raising a strict pointer at you. “Shut it. You’ve had your fun.”

He then grabs your upper arm hard, pulling you away from the stranger and close to his side—grip so tight his knuckles whiten against your flesh.

“Sorry about her,” he chuckles at the stranger with a stiff smile on his face. “She gets like this sometimes—y’know how girls are…” He looks down at you while he says the next thing, “Attention whores.”

And then he laughs again, looking back at your friend—who, at this point, is looking a little uncomfortable where he stands caught in the middle of the awkward exchange.

“I apologize if she got your hopes up, but she’s only doing this to rile me up and has absolutely zero intentions of going home with you—so you might as well just scram.”

He’s already backing away when you interject, “Hey—” 

But he just throws his hands up. “Sorry, you’re fine, but I’m not touching this.”

Your ex scoffs with a smirk. “Smart kid.”

And then the guy’s gone. Just like that. Slipped away—leaving you alone again with him. The one you can’t ever seem to escape.

“Tch—look at you,” he grumbles, looking you over, still with a mean grip of your upper arm. “ You’re a drunk mess. I’m taking you home.”

You plant your heels—or try to at least—as he starts dragging you along towards the lot where he’d parked his car. 

“Stop!” you say, wanting to pull your arm free but failing. “I told you already—I’m not your girlfriend—we’re done, so leave me alone.”

He doesn’t pay you any mind, maintaining a straight route to the car.

“Let go!” you whine, tightening your hand around the strap to your purse before slapping it across his back. “I said—”

“I thought I told you to shut your mouth,” he growls once the two of you reach the car. “I’ve had about enough of this attitude of yours.” 

Turning to face you, he instantly yanks your handbag out of your grip, all but confiscating it—his warped expression only a short inch away from yours, glaring at you with his teeth clenched.

“Now, if you know what’s best for you, you’re gonna sit your bratty ass down in the car and put your goddamn seatbelt on before I get even more pissed off than I already am—then maybe, just maybe, I’ll go a little easier on you once we get home.”

He pops the passenger’s door open before throwing you inside—keeping your purse to himself as he rounds the car and gets in the driver’s seat, along with your phone and credit card. Left no other options but to take your chances in the sketchy club district, all alone, in the middle of the night, with no good means of getting home…

You deliberate it, holding onto the door handle, ready to jump out—but ultimately, you sit pretty as he starts the car.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Kageyama, Sakusa ♡ BLLK – Reo ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[luvsupa]

TRICK-WHORE-TREAT!

summary: do NOT fuck summon the insanely hot curse, sukuna.

tags: trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, modern day, pwp, smut (p in v), ��ral sex (f!recieving), food (candy) play, sukuna has two dicks, he’s a bully, petnames, dumbification, etc. mdni.

w.c: 2.7k

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN GUYS 🧡🧡 IM SOO HAPPY THAT YOU ALL HAVE BEEN FOLLOWING W MY KINKTOBEER MWAAA!!! lowkey sad it’s done but ENJOYYY 🧡

kinktober masterlist

“the hell’s that?” you ask, stepping into the livingroom after finishing up your nightly skincare routine. tonight, it’s just you and your friends mina and sage, skipping every halloween party to hang out together . you’ve all stocked up on snacks and horror games to keep yourselves entertained.

“no clue, got it off some marketplace—thing was dirt cheap,” sage shrugs, holding up an ancient, dusty book that looks like it’s been around since the dawn of time. you step closer as sage hands over the grimy thing, flipping the first page and frowning at the unreadable text.

“this is the dumbest shit ever, we can’t even read it,” you mutter, slamming the book shut as dust fills the air, making you gag. but something about it still piques your interest, so mina does a quick search and manages to decode some of the ancient alphabet, translating the words:

RYOMEN SUKUNA, KING OF CURSES.

SEALED AWAY BY: GOJO CLAN.

DO NOT SUMMON.

you nearly lose it at the dramatic warning. a king of curses sealed up in a ten-dollar marketplace relic? yeah, super scary.

“so, this is like…a bootleg ouija board?” mina asks, clutching your cat, coco, for comfort. you drop the book onto the coffee table with a snort as you and sage crack it open again, flipping through each creaking page. mina pulls your cat tighter as it hisses, clearly over her nerves. as you dig through the pages, you find some ridiculous official chant,

“ryomen sukuna, king of curses, awaken now. break from the seal, emerge from the night.”

you and sage recite it over and over, while mina shuts her eyes like you’re actually summoning something worth fearing.

“lame ass book,” you scoff, tossing it behind you, where it lands with a dull thud on the carpet. after that, you grab the other games you brought for the night, and the three of you dive into a marathon of competitive chaos, yelling and laughing until your voices are hoarse. hours slip by, and between the endless rounds and maybe a bit too much snacking, exhaustion starts to sink in.

“gooood nighttt,” you all mumble sleepily as you collapse, deciding to let mina and sage take the bed while you settle onto the makeshift floor bed. you don’t mind the floor—anything for them.

soon enough, silence fills the room, but in the dead of night, a sudden blast of wind slips under the door, rattling it hard enough to shake you awake. your eyes blink open, heavy with sleep, as a strange light spills through the door’s cracks. did you really forget to turn the lights off?

you tap your phone and squint at the screen, 3:27 AM. you groan softly, realizing you’ve barely slept an hour before the cool wins wakes you. maybe you left the window open?

rising from your makeshift bed, you glance over at sage and mina, fast asleep, curled up with your stuffed animals. you tiptoe toward the door, gently easing it open. you nearly yelp when coco, your cat, slips past you and pads silently toward the living room, ignoring your whispered calls as you follow her.

you freeze when coco hops up into a lap—a man’s lap.

your gaze slowly travels up the figure sitting casually on your couch. in the dim light, you can’t fully make out his features, but you catch glimpses—dark, muscular limbs, and the glint of red eyes that pierce through the shadows. coco purrs contentedly in his lap, her small body relaxed as he strokes her fur with a disturbingly gentle touch.

“c-coco…?” your voice is barely a whisper, each syllable shaky as dread knots in your stomach. as your eyes adjust, you realize he has…more than two arms. two extra limbs drape over the couch, relaxed and disturbingly still.

“coco?” he chuckles darkly, voice rich and deep, cutting through the silence. “show respect, peasant.”

a chill races down your spine. his voice carries a weight that sinks into your bones, making you want to shrink back. he cradles coco close to his chest, his other hands moving with unnatural grace, almost possessively, as if she were his own.

“such a precious creature…i’ve missed having a pet in my kingdom.” he speaks slowly, each word dragging, drawing you further into his presence. kingdom? a sinking feeling tightens your chest as your eyes flick to the spot where you’d tossed that cheap book…now gone.

you edge toward the light switch, hand shaking as you flip it on. what you see makes your heart plummet.

he sprawls on the couch with a lazy, terrifying ease, two extra arms draped like they belong there, his legs spread wide in dark, traditional robes, your small cat nestled comfortably in one of his enormous hands. as your eyes trail up, you catch the tattoos winding over his skin, tracing ancient patterns that seem to pulse. then you see them—two extra eyes, fixed on you, gleaming with an unearthly red glow.

“s-sukuna?” you breathe, recognition dawning as your mind replays the cursed illustrations from the book. your stomach twists. you’ve summoned him. his head lifts, and his eyes lock onto yours—four intense, ruby orbs that make you feel like prey.

slowly, sukuna rises from the couch, his towering frame unfolding to its full, monstrous height. his head nearly brushes the ceiling, his presence filling the room, suffocating. he steps closer, holding coco in one hand while his other arms hang back, giving him an unnervingly calm stance as he approaches. you’re trembling, pinned in place by the dark weight of his gaze.

“woman, your scent…” his voice lowers, rough and insistent, as he gently places coco on the ground. she slinks off, disappearing into the shadows as his eyes never leave yours. “…it’s clouding my mind.”

a sharp heat flares through you, fear mingling with something darker. without thinking, you press your thighs together, shocked by the rush of sensation that shouldn’t be there, not with this terrifying creature towering over you. you back away slowly, unable to break eye contact, until you feel the wall press against your back.

“tell me,” he purrs, a mocking smirk curling his lips as he steps into your space, trapping you between the wall and the solid, overwhelming force of him. “isn’t it pathetic…getting all worked up for a ‘lame ass’ like me?” he taunts, voice dark and dangerous. you swallow hard, realizing he heard every insult, every careless word about him and that “cheap ass book.”

“not my fault that book was less than ten bucks,” you snap back, defiance flickering up despite the fear pressing down on you. you’re not sure where the courage comes from, but you hold his gaze.

his chuckle is a low, rumbling sound, his red eyes burning into you. your gaze dips down, lingering on the sculpted lines of his abdomen under his robe, catching on the hard outline beneath the fabric.

the sick fucker was turned on too.

he’s probably more turned on than you, and it’s beyond obvious as he has you folded in half on the couch, your legs painfully stretched back, feet nearly reaching past your head. two of his hands pin your thighs down with a grip that feels bruising, while his other two cradle the backs of your inner thighs, spreading you open with no mercy. his tongue, impossibly long and sinfully thick, reaches deep, curling once it finds that sweet spot that makes you cry out. your eyes flutter as you fight to stay conscious, catching a glimpse of his face twisted in raw, desperate need. when one of his eyes meets yours, a spark of dark hunger flickers within his piercing gaze, sending a shiver through your entire body.

your walls clamp around his tongue as he plunges even deeper, hitting places that make your breath hitch. “m-more,” you moan, voice needy and broken, completely lost in him. his lips curl into a smirk against you, and he lets you grind into his mouth, allowing you to lose yourself in the pleasure. without you realizing, sukuna reaches for something on the table—a bottle of thick blue syrup, something new he’s been itching to try on you.

your eyes roll back when you feel the cool syrup drizzle onto your swollen, sensitive folds, and you gasp, watching as the blue liquid glistens against your flushed skin, sliding down to coat every inch. sukuna’s grip tightens, pressing your legs further down, holding you in the filthiest position imaginable. he takes his time, squeezing ever sticky drop from the bottle as it pools on your clit, mixing with your arousal and slowly dripping lower, reaching your entrance. his tongue pulls away just enough for him to admire the mess he’s made, eyes gleaming with satisfaction at the way the syrup clings to your needy, twitching cunt.

then, without warning, his mouth is back on you, his tongue dives in, lapping up the syrup in messy, hungry strokes. the taste of blue raspberry mixes with your own sweetness, driving him wild, and he groans deeply as he sloppily devours you. his lips stain blue, and he doesn’t care; he’s making out with your cunt like he’s starved for it, sucking hard on your clit until your mind spins. you feel the gentle scrape of his fangs against your sensitive skin, and the pressure builds as he tugs and pulls, drawing out every bit of sensation he can, his mouth relentless and filthy as he drives you past the edge.

his grip tightens on your legs, pressing them even further down as he spreads you wider, eyes locked onto the sight in front of him. he lets his tongue swirl over your clit, catching the sticky syrup with sloppy, hungry strokes. “look at you,” he groans between licks. “soaked and covered in candy like my own personal treat.” he chuckles darkly, lips stained blue as he smears the syrup messily around your swollen, twitching folds.

“‘kuna, jus’ fuck me already,” you whine, voice thick with impatience. you’ve never felt this desperate, and your gaze keeps drifting down to the thick bulge pressing against his robe. all four of sukuna’s ruby eyes narrow, and he lets out a low, mocking chuckle, clearly taken aback by your demand.

“you think you can boss me around, huh?” he taunts, his grip tightening on your chin as he taps your lips, silently demanding you open your mouth. the moment you part your lips, he spits a thick wad of saliva right onto your tongue. you swallow it instantly, almost embarrassingly eager. he grins down at you, his expression twisted with amusement, and gives your cheek a few light taps. “so nasty… and here i thought you had some dignity.”

in a swift motion he pulls you into his lap, forcing your thighs to spread over his muscular legs. when did he even take off his pants? you barely have time to process it as you feel the heat radiating from him, and your eyes drop to the bulge under his robe.

“you want it so bad?” he sneers, pushing you back with a rough shove. “prove it. since you think you’re in charge, you’re gonna work for it.” he unties his robe with a calculated slowness, letting it slip open. your eyes widen, breath catching at the sight of not one, but two thick, throbbing cocks, pre-cum dripping from both angry red tips, veins snaking along their length. and on his stomach, a grinning mouth, twisted and sinister, completes the terrifying sight.

“what’s wrong? too much for you?” he laughs, watching as your jaw drops, taking in every inch of him. “thought you wanted to act all big and baaad.” his eyes flash as he jerks his hips up, rubbing his tips against your soaked entrance. “go on then. ride me… let’s see if you can keep up, princess.”

“t-two? are you insane?” you gasp, eyes locked on his monstrous cocks, both thick and throbbing as they twitch under his dark gaze. sukuna just smirks, his hand wrapping around one shaft, tapping the flushed, swollen tip against your clit. each soft thud electrifies you, your body jolting with each contact as you slump against his chest, barely able to hold yourself up.

“c’monnn, where’d all that attitude go?” he sneers, flicking your forehead as a warning. the sting makes you wince, and he’s already impatient, lifting your hips with two large hands, positioning you right over his leaking tip. you can barely breathe as you look down, staring at how massive he is. there’s no way you can take all of him—but he’s clearly planning to fit both.

you cry out as he sinks you down onto his first cock, stretching you open in one brutal thrust. your eyes widen, feeling every thick inch filling you to the brim, your walls straining around him, slick and achy. glancing down, you can see the bulge forming where he’s stuffed so deep inside.

sukuna chuckles lowly, a dark, mocking sound that reverberates through your body as his hands roam your hips, patting your head in a twisted kind of praise. “not so tough now, huh?” he taunts, his voice thick with satisfaction as he watches you struggle to take him. you’re utterly stuffed, thighs trembling, mind swimming, and he’s just getting started.

he groans when he feels your walls flutter around him, clenching tighter as his hands move down to your ass, squeezing the flesh hard enough to leave bruises. you moan brokenly, and he smirks, thrusting up with sharp, brutal snaps of his hips. each thrust sends squelching, messy sounds echoing in the room, your arousal spraying out, slicking his abs and thighs. you’re a mess, head lolling against his shoulder as the filthy noises fill your ears, lewd and obscene.

“thereee we go, brat… ‘m right here,” he drawls, one hand pressing down on the bulge in your lower stomach, making you sob. his thrusts grow rougher, inhuman, skin slapping against skin as the couch creaks under the weight of his assault. every time he drives into you, your juices squelch and spray, drenching both of you in a mix of sweat and slick.

“imagine what your friends would think of you,” he growls, voice thick with lust, “getting fucked like a dirty little slut by a demon.” his words make you whimper, panic flashing in your mind at the thought of being caught. but it only fuels him, watching your pathetic, broken reactions as his cock slams relentlessly against your cervix.

then, you feel something warm and slimy flick over your clit, making your eyes snap open. you look down, horrified and aroused, to see a mouth on his stomach, tongue lapping hungrily at your swollen nub. you sob, grinding your hips down, desperate for any kind of release as his mouth devours your sensitive bud.

his cock throbs as he nears his climax, driven crazy by your whimpers and the way your walls cling to him, squeezing him tighter with every thrust. his pace becomes erratic, desperate, hips snapping up harder and faster, both of you teetering on the edge. “fuckkk,” he groans, voice rough, his brow furrowing as he loses control, thrusting sloppily as he chases his own release.

with one last brutal thrust, he spills hot and thick inside you, his cum flooding your insides, filling you up as you shudder and release with him. your essence sprays out, slicking his stomach and thighs, a messy mix of cum and arousal coating everything. his stomach tongue laps up every bit of you, greedily sucking up the slick mess. your body goes limp, utterly spent, as your head falls to his chest, lulled by the rhythm of his heartbeat and the warm stickiness between your thighs.

without a word, you two stay exactly where you are, not moving an inch as you keep clenching around his shaft. his fingers idly play with your hair, lulling you toward sleep when—

“what the fuck is going on?”

your eyes fly open, and you turn to see your friends standing in the living room, eyes wide and mouths hanging open as they stare at the two of you.

how in the hell are you going to explain this…

[persefolli]

𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐓𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖, 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐡, 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐂𝐨𝐝𝐞, 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐀𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐓𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜-𝐃𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐧

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞

Annoyance filled your body as Stu sat on the couch laughing dramatically and talking loudly to his friends. You didn’t like going to the parties Stu hosted because he paid no attention to you. He only cared about his stupid friends and impressing him, leaving you to baby a drunk Stu at the end of the night. 

“Baby, go grab us a coupla beers okay?”

“Stu this is the third time-”

“Please?” He poked out his bottom lip. “This is the last time. I'll give you 20 bucks.”

You squint your eyes.  “50.”

“Okay fuck. 50.”

You got up from the couch and squeezed past a few people to get to the garage. The room was humid and eerie, so you quickly clicked on the light and walked down the wooden stairs to get to the fridge. Bending over, you looked for the brand of beers Stu liked.

Behind you, the lights were cut off.

“Fuck.” You cursed but still didn't make any urgent moves. You picked up four beers and closed the door. You jumped seeing a person in a ghostface mask and cloak on by the garage entrance. 

“Stu. Is that you?”

The person shook their head. “Okay well…maybe you shouldn't wear that around Sidney.”

The person slowly walked down the stairs, backing you away from the garage stairs. “This isn't fucking funny. Back the fuck up.”

The figure drew a knife and you gasped as he slashed it at you. You dropped the beer bottles and around the garage, throwing storage bins down to block their path to you. Quickly, you tried to dash to the garage door but got tackled down by the person. You screamed but your mouth was quickly covered by the perpetrator. Reaching up, you gripped the mask and slid it off, exposing your boyfriend's best friend. 

“Billy?!” You gasped in fear.

Billy groaned and kept a tight grip on your wrists to stop you from moving any more.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

Realization dawned on your face, he was more than serious about trying to kill you. “You killed all those people….”

“Not just me.” He stated.

You shook your head in confusion.

“Stu. Y/n. You’re sleeping with my partner in crime.”

You felt a surge of anger and kicked Billy in the groin, causing him to groan and write on the floor in pain. “Are you fucking sick?!”

“You knew I was sick baby.” He chuckled whilst on the ground.

“How would your best friend feel if he found out you tried to kill his girlfriend?!”

“Who do you think sent me?”

Your heart dropped. Stu sent Billy to kill you? Why?

“He knows?”

“Nah.” Billy leans his head against the ground. “He’s just a little…ya know.”

You crossed your arms and shook your head, looking down at Billy. “And you were actually gonna do it.” Your voice cracked and Billy looked at you with a somber expression.

“I was....I'm supposed to. I haven't decided on it yet.”

“You-”

“Hey!” He interrupted. “I decided not to…just to give you a good scare. But now that you know….killing you would benefit me more.” He shrugged. “If I kill you now…Stu won’t be mad. You can’t tell Sidney about us, and no one would know I'm the killer……but I do enjoy your company…a lot more than I should.” He stood up and dusted himself off. “You know I slowed down on the killings after we started fucking you know.” He approached you slowly. “So I guess that means you do benefit me in some way.”

You placed your hands on your head and groaned. This was deeper than a sadistic prick going around town killing teenagers, these were your friends, your lovers doing this for the fun of it.

“If I let you go. You need to disappear for a bit.”

“What?”

“Listen.” He grabbed your arm tightly. “I can’t let you back in there…Stu needs to think you’re dead and gone. And you can’t go home either because Tatum or Sid might visit.”

“So where the fuck do I go you dipshit?!”

Billy looked to the doggie door that was on the garage door. “You hide out in my backseat and I drive you to my place, yeah?”

“I’m not sitting in your backseat for hours!” You bickered back at him.

“It’s either that or the knife!” He said harshly.

You weighed your options and sighed deeply. You went over to the dog door and looked back at him, angrily before getting on your hands and knees and start to crawl through.

Billy walked over to the door and clicked the garage button, making the mechanisms hum. You screamed loudly and pulled yourself back, looking at Billy and whimpering. He was laughing and clicked the button again, causing the garage door to go back down, leaving the two of you in the empty garage with the echoes of his laughter. “It's not funny!” You snapped, feeling yourself tear up.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” 

You crawled out the door and avoided detection from any of the partygoers. You found Billy’s car and tugged on the back door, opening it and getting in the backseat as he told you.

There was no way to trust he wasn’t leading you to your death, but here you were.

Hours passed and you sat in the backseat, wondering why you didn’t just call for help, why you didn’t just snitch on Billy and Stu and end this town’s horror. As every hour passed the less you wanted to be entrapped in the car. The urge to get out and scream for help increased. 

One more hour passed before Billy finally got in the front seat, dumping the ghost mask and suit in the back seat near you and starting the car. He said nothing as he pulled away from Stu’s home, and it made you nervous. You watched him through the rearview mirror, studying his frustrated face. He locked eyes with you in the mirror, and began talking. “He didn’t even care, you know. He got off on the fact you’ll be found in a ditch soon.”

You looked out the window, watching the trees and fields pass by. “Why did he wanna kill me?” You asked again. 

“Tatum is his type so he needed a way to get with her without fucking up the friendship dynamic.”

“So his solution was to kill me!”

“I just made all that up.” Billy scoffed. “So fucking gullible. That’s probably why, you're such a dumbass. How the fuck would I know why he wants you dead. He just does.”

You leaned against the back seat, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You weren’t the nicest to Stu at times, and you certainly weren;t the perfect girlfriend…cheating on him…stuff like that, but you didn’t think it would end up in a murder plot against you. 

“Stop that.” Billy scolded. “You’re no saint and neither am I….but you don’t deserve this…for once.”

You wiped your eyes and nodded. “How was the rest of the party? Did anyone notice me gone.”

“The girls yeah.” He turned onto a highway. “But I fucked Sid’s brains out so i’m sure that’ll have her distracted for a while.”

You smiled softly, “Finally.”

The two of you made it to Billy’s home, which was lightless and dark, due to the fact his parents weren’t there. He led you to the garage, where he spent most of his time, or so he said. None of you had actually been to his place, so seeing his abode felt very intimate. He let you into the garage and you saw a decorated room with a bed, posters, and sketches everywhere. You walked over to the drawers and the vinyl stacks he had. Billy huffed and sat on the mattress.

“This is not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?” He asked.

“I don’t know…you don’t take me as an artist. Not a person who draws anyways.”

He grunts and stares at the ceiling. You took off your jacket and shoes, getting into the bed next to him. You laid on his chest and watched as he pondered. “Why do you sleep in the garage and not that beautiful house out there?”

“That's not home.” He says. “A home…has a family in it. And it’s warm, and…rustic. Nothing in there has been used, it's cold, and no one is ever there. Barely.”

“You could make it a home.”

“Don’t need all that space. And I need privacy.”

You looked around, this did seem like a ‘Billy hideout’ by definition. 

“Not even a crinkle in the sheets. We have a housekeeper that comes and cleans nothing.”

Things had been really rough for Billy after his mother left, and you knew almost nothing about it. Pillowtalk didn’t really exist with Billy, it did, but it wasn't the share-your-deepest-darkest-secrets-and-profess-your-love kind of pillow talk. 

“Billy-”

“I killed Sidney’s mom a year ago.”

You sat up quickly and looked at him in horror. “What?!”

Sidney was almost inconsolable after the death of her mother, and Billy, along with you and the rest of the friend group comforted her, making sure she would never have to go through anything alone again. You slept over at Sidneys for four months after the death of her mother. 

“Her mom was a whore.”

“Billy thats not-”

“If she hadn’t fucked my dad….”

You placed your hand over Billy’s lips, which caused him to furrow his eyebrows. “You’re getting yourself riled up.”

Billy took a deep breath and slapped your hand from his mouth. “If she hadn’t fucked my dad we wouldn’t be in this predicament would we?”

“Why didn’t you take revenge on…I don't know, your dad?!”

Billy’s eyes relaxed and he smirked. “Why would I do that?”

You groaned and shook your head. “I think you’re the mad one.”

“I’m sorry? Did I not just save your life from your crazy boyfriend.”

“And I ended up with an even crazier son of a bitch.”

Billy was quick to grab your throat and pin you under him, causing you to gasp and grab his wrist in fear. You looked at him in horror as he tightened his grip. He was going to strangle you.

“Billy no!” You choked out. Billy squeezed tighter and tighter until he leaned down and pressed a harsh kiss to your lips. He released his grip and you coughed under him, crying softly as the heat of the moment ended. “You’re so easy to scare.” He used his thumb to wipe your tears.

You hic’ed and tried to push him away from you. “It’s not funny.”

“Hey, hey, hey, I'm sorry.” He placed another kiss on your cheek.

Billy got up from the bed and went over to his vinyl stacks, he dug through them for a bit before putting on some relaxing music. You didn’t know the band or genre, but you were too frozen in shock to care. You heard his belt unbuckle and shifting before he got back into bed with you.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He caressed your cheek. “You just need to learn when to shut the fuck up okay?”

You nodded, and he placed another kiss on your lips. You didn’t reciprocate. He kept kissing your lips, then your neck, then your cheek, then your collar bone.

“I won’t stop til you forgive me.”

You felt his hands go under your arms, causing a giggle to emit from your throat.

“See? You can't even stay mad.”

“I am mad!” You giggled as he continued to tickle you. “Stop! You’re cheating.”

He continued tickling you until you sat up and shoved him. The two of you panted as the fight was over, and you scanned him, noting how he was only in his boxers now. He tilted his head and you groaned.

“Billy no.”

“Cmon, it's been a long night.”

“Billy you just fucked Sidney.”

“You think I came from that?” He scoffed.

You shook your head, “You are hell on earth.” You moved to take off your shirt, and Billy wasted no time grabbing you by your waist and pulling you onto his lap. He leaned against his headboard and peppered kisses on your chest as he unclasped your bra. Throwing your bra onto the garage floor he redirected himself to your tits, kissing and sucking on your nipples, causing you to writhe and moan.

Your noises made a beeline right to his dick, causing him to pull you down onto his hardening member. You held his head and groaned as he sucked on your breasts, taking his time to stimulate you.

His hands trailed down your waist and began tugging at your shorts. You used your right hand to unbutton your jean shorts and shifted away from him to slide them off. He grunted from the loss of contact. He was right on your wavelength, sliding off your panties right after the shorts and throwing them aside. Billy pulled you right back into his lap, moaning as he latched onto your lips.

“You're so needy tonight.” You said between breaths.

“I just need to come.” He pulled you back to kiss him. You began rocking your hips, creating friction between the both of you. He pulled away and looked down, watching how you wettened a spot on his boxers. He hummed and guided your hips, mumbling and panting as pleasure filled his body.

“Get up.” He said.

You rolled to your side and he quickly yanked down his boxers, springing excitedly in front of you.

He moved to climb on top of you but you clicked your tongue.

“Condom. You just fucked Sid.”

“With the only condom I had.” He mumbled in your neck and began rubbing his tip between your folds. You groaned softly and mentally chastised him. “I promise.” He kissed your neck.

“I need you.” He tested the limits by sticking the tip in and pulling out, causing you to moan in need.

“Okay fuck it.”

Billy entered you with a swift motion and you both let out a synchronous groan. He held a tight grip on your hips as he fucked you. You squealed and drug your nails along his back, stopping right above his buttocks and digging into the skin. Billy hissed and nipped at your bottom lip, moving more vigorously above you. You throbbed around him and he faltered, shivering above you.

“Don't fucking do that. Don't. Don't.” He pleaded into your neck as his strokes got more sloppy.

“Don't do what?” You whimpered as you did it again, causing him to hiss and strain as he held back.

“I'm gonna fucking come inside of you.” He kissed behind your ear. “You fucking asked for it. You wanted this.”

“No!” You moaned in delight. You could protest all you wanted, but you felt too good to get him off of you. The two of you panted louder, moaned louder, fucked harder until the two of you came undone in each others embrace.  You curled your toes and panted breathless and he filled you up.

Billy rolled on his side and stared at the ceiling as he caught his breath. He sighed and patted your stomach twice before getting up.

As predicted, Tatum and Sidney began putting up missing posters for you, and Stu had to go around school acting like the heartbroken, devastated boyfriend. 

Afterschool, Tatum was the one to comfort Stu, rubbing his back as Sidney and Randy came up with ideas as to where you went. Billy was pretty indifferent to it all, knowing you were probably laid out on his bed listening to music. Stu listened to Randy and Sidney, but his mind wandered, looking over at Billy, and then the floor, where he saw a familiar pair of panties hanging from the pocket of Billy’s backpack.

[itsswritten]

wings

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader, IC (platonic) x reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: 18+, smut, P in V, lots of fluff

Summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.

Wings Universe - More from this world.

"I distinctly remember," Mor began, her voice filled with excitement, drawing not only your attention from the comforting cocoon of Azriel's arms, but also the rooms. She sat opposite you, a slight mischief twinkling in her eyes as she leaned forward.

You were all nestled in one of the many living rooms at the House of Wind. 

Under the flickering faelight, you sat beside Azriel– your mate. His large presence ever the comfort, as he enveloped you in his arms. His fingers, tracing intricate patterns through your hair, each touch sending ripples of relaxation through your body. 

If it weren't for the loudness of your friends and family, their remarks not failing to echo through the room, Azriel’s touch alone could have lulled you into a blissful slumber. 

"It was a surprise for sure," Feyre chimed in, a playful smirk dancing across her lips as she glanced over at your slightly confused expression. Sensing your distraction, Azriel reluctantly released his hold on you, joining the conversation with a gentle touch of his hand settling on the small of your back.

"My experience was quite a shock," Cassian added with a grin.

“Mine, I have to say is one I’d like to forget” Rhys grimaced as Feyre gave him an annoyed knowing look.

Amren, rolled her eyes at her family's theatrics. "You all make such a big deal out of everything," she remarked, her tone dry.

Your brows furrowed as you pieced together the fragments of the conversation, realisation dawning as Mor's words began to paint a vivid picture.

The topic of discussion? The first time they laid eyes on your beautiful wings.

 𓇢𓆸

Mor, Feyre and Nesta.

It was one of Feyre’s first nights out since welcoming Nyx into the world; she’d been dying for a night off. Craving the simple joys of the company of her girlfriends. Sensing her desperation for a night to let loose, you, Mor, and Nesta had taken it upon yourselves to orchestrate the perfect girls night out for your High Lady.

The night quickly unfolded into a flurry of laughter and dancing. Drinks were spilled, songs were sung. Rita’s being your chosen sanctuary for the night. You all let yourselves get lost in the music and infectious energy of the bar. Drinks were flowing freely, and the hours quickly slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass.

It wasn’t until the sun had started to rise again that you all quickly realised you needed to get home. You’re not sure how in their drunken states, but Mor and Feyre had successfully managed to winnow you all back to River House, all collapsing in a giggling heap in the foyer.

A fit of laughter overtook the group as you stumbled and pushed, trying to untangle yourselves from one another. You managed to push yourself onto unsteady feet, only to trip over Nesta’s dress and stumble back onto Mor. With your balance faltering, a shimmer of magic danced through the air as your wings burst forth, a kaleidoscope of iridescent pink hues unfurling into the air. Your wings, delicate and light, burst with specs of fairy dust that glowed around you.

The room fell silent, the trio frozen in awe at the sight before them. Then, like a spell breaking, laughter bubbled forth, filling the space with joyous echoes. Mor's eyes sparkled with delight as she pulled you into an embrace, Feyre's lips curled into a grin, and even Nesta couldn't help but crack a smile.

"You sneaky thing," Mor teased, reaching out to brush her fingers against the delicate wings "Keeping such beauty hidden away."

“I bet Azriel loves keeping this side of you to himself,” Nesta purred, her voice laced with mischief as something provocative glinted in her eyes.

You responded with a playful stick-out of your tongue at Nesta, before turning your attention to Mor and Feyre, who were now a pair of mesmerised females, giggling like children as they reached out to touch this new part of their friend they had never seen before.

They had always known you had wings, from the type of fae you were, but you had always kept them hidden and they never dared to ask for you to reveal them.

"Hands off!" you exclaimed, your voice a blend of amusement and mock outrage as you swatted and smacked at their approaching fingers, the sound of laughter echoing through the halls.

Of course, they respectfully obeyed your wishes, but there was a warmth that filled their chests as you all stumbled arms wrapped around one another through the house, enjoying a new part of their friend that had been revealed.

 𓇢𓆸

Cassian.

Cassian's mischievous streak knew no bounds, especially when it came to playing pranks on you. He found something undeniably endearing about your reactions, and there was a certain satisfaction when he knew these teasing antics could also annoy Azriel too. 

On this particular day, you were busy in the kitchen, practising a cake recipe that Elain had shared with you. Determined to make the perfect cake for Azriel's upcoming birthday, you meticulously measured ingredients, oblivious to the looming presence of your giant friend.

Cassian's eyes twinkled with mischief as he saw his chance to play. With careful grace, he approached, holding his breath before unleashing his voice.

"BOO!" His voice boomed across the room, his figure looming over you with a triumphant grin.

Startled, you spun around in a flurry of flour, heart racing in your chest at the sudden noise. And then, in a moment of surprise, your magic wavered, and your wings unfurled in a burst of ethereal light.

The room fell silent as Cassian's eyes widened in disbelief, laughter fading into awe at the sight before him. "What in the Cauldron," he breathed, barely a whisper, his finger pointing at the delicate appendage. "What are those?"

You fluttered your wings away, annoyance evident in your voice as you retaliated with a playful toss of flour in his direction. "Cassian!" you exclaimed.

"YOU HAVE WINGS!" Cassian's excitement was palpable, his grin spreading from ear to ear.

"Of course I have wings, I'm a fairy," you retorted, arms outstretched in exasperation.

“AZRIEL…YOUR MATE HAS WINGS” he screamed knowing his vibrating voice would find his brother.

Azriel materialised from the shadows, concern evident in his eyes as he approached, brushing away the flour that had settled on your face. His expression shifted to admiration as he took in the sight of your wings shimmering behind you.

"Stop tormenting my mate, Cass," Azriel scolded gently, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulled you into a soft embrace, his lips pressing to the top of your head.

"She has wings!" Cassian exclaimed once more, disbelief colouring his tone. There was a touch of annoyance, as he realised he may have been the only one to not know this about you.

Cassian, like a moth attracted to a light, reached his giant hand out again wanting to get close to the wings that were so unlike his own.

"No touching" Azriel growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. Cassian withdrew his hand, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features as he chewed his lip in an attempt to avoid pouting.

"So does this mean... we can go flying together?" Cassian asked as the revelation came to his mind, excitement bubbling in his voice.

Your brow quirked slightly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as a small smirk tugged at your lips. Cassian watched you carefully, anticipation written across his features, while Azriel pulled away knowingly.

You nodded slowly, a challenge evident in your gaze. "I’ll race ya," you declared, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

With that, you pushed past Cassian and darted out of the room, your wings fluttering gracefully as you made your way to the nearest balcony. Without hesitation, you leaped off the edge and into the open air, the wind rushing past you as you soared into the night sky.

Cassian was quick to follow, a grin spreading across his face as he embraced the exhilarating freedom of flight. And not far behind him, Azriel joined the fray, his own wings beating with a steady rhythm as he soared through the air.

Together, you three took to the skies, weaving and darting through the night sky.

 𓇢𓆸

Rhys and Nyx.

“And stretch them out…That’s it my boy” Rhys spoke proudly as he watched his son in front of him stretch and extend his wings.

You had found yourself in the company of one of Rhys’ flying lessons, nestled on one of the chaise lounges on the balcony, a book in hand as you half-read, half-watched your High Lord teaching his son how to use his wings.

Nyx, though perhaps still a little too young to fly, was eager to learn. So desperate to be like his father and uncles. With Rhys' guidance, he tentatively stretched out his wings, mimicking his father's movements under the watchful gaze of the night sky.

Rhys, a picture of fatherly pride, stood by Nyx's side, his attention unwavering—until a sudden commotion from inside drew his focus for just a fleeting moment. In that brief lapse of attention, the sudden gust of wind caught Nyx and his perfectly poised wings off guard, sending him teetering towards the edge, a gasp escaping his lips.

Instinct surged through you like a bolt of lightning as your wings burst forth in a flurry of motion, carrying you across the expanse with a grace honed over centuries. With swift precision, you swooped in, catching Nyx in your embrace just as he hovered on the brink of danger.

Wide-eyed and breathless, Nyx looked up at you in awe, his innocent admiration pulling at the strings of your heart. "Pwetty," he murmured, his wonder mirrored in the glow of your own wings, illuminated by the moonlight.

You wasted no time in safely landing back onto the balcony, Rhys rushing to your side with bewilderment and shock etched on his features as a torrent of thank-yous spilled from his lips.

As Nyx pawed at your wings, you carefully fluttered them away from his reach, mindful of their delicate nature. Rhys, after the scare of what had just happened, or almost happened. Took a moment to truly appreciate the sight of your wings— beautiful and light, shimmering a pink glow that was a stark contrast to his own.

His relief was short-lived, however, as it became apparent that Feyre had witnessed the entire ordeal. With a swift scolding, she whisked Nyx from your arms, sending you a silent 'thank you' before retreating inside, cradling her son protectively.

"No flying lessons with Daddy from now on," Feyre scolded directly at her mate before she cooed at her son again. "What would we have done if Auntie Y/N hadn't been here?" she mused aloud, her words lingering in the night air.

Rhys glanced over at you, questions swirling in his head at how you had so quickly been there to rescue their son from danger. 

"They may be more delicate than your wings, but I am quicker, swifter, and more agile than you big Illyrian babies will ever be," you teased lightly, your words carrying a hint of playfulness.

"Thank the Cauldron you are," Rhys breathed with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the depths of his gratitude. You gently patted his shoulder before ushering him inside.

 𓇢𓆸

Azriel.

“Gods you are beautiful” Azriel groaned, sweat beading down his temple as he looked at you. Your own eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you continued to ride your mate.

You had both finally and officially accepted the mating bond, preparing Azriel’s favourite meal as a gesture of your acceptance. He had eagerly devoured the food, the golden thread connecting you both deeper and stronger than you ever thought possible.

You had felt his emotion rippling towards you that night. There was a sense of overwhelming gratitude, a deep-seated appreciation for finally having someone who understood him in ways no one else ever could. There was a feeling of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, knowing that he had found someone who truly accepted him for who he was.

But above all, there was a profound sense of belonging—a feeling of being chosen, not just as a lover, but as a partner, a confidant, a soulmate.

As the night progressed, things escalated quickly. Your bodies entwined in a passionate frenzy. Finally, after months of yearning and longing, you found yourselves in each other's arms.

You straddled him, your breasts flushed against his hard chest, in an unbreakable embrace as his hands tightly gripped your lower back, moving with you as you rode out a dance of pleasure. His large wings stretched behind him, twitching slightly as a sign of his impending release.

"You feel so perfect, angel," he purred against your neck, peppering it with soft kisses before pulling away to watch your face.

Your features were contorted in a mix of pleasure and desire, moans escaping from your lips as you steadily climbed towards climax. His rhythm became deeper and more intense, bringing you closer to the edge.

"Azriel..." you moaned out his name, throwing your head back and arching your body as ecstasy coursed through you. 

“That’s it my love, that’s it…”

Azriel’s words got stuck in this throat as he watched you reach the peak of bliss, the air around you suddenly seemed to shimmer and a soft ethereal light enveloped your beings. Azriel's eyes widened in awe at the magnificent sight before him. Glowing iridescent wings sprouted from your back, their delicate pink hues dancing in the dim light of your chamber. They fluttered gently, casting a mesmerising glow that bathed both of you in a radiant aura of magic.

Filled with wonder and awe, he was sent over the edge, his own release filling you as he held the most ethereal being in his arms. 

"So beautiful..." Azriel breathed out, almost in disbelief as he couldn't fathom how you could be any more breathtaking than you already were. 

Your wings twitched and fluttered as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the intensity of the moment slowly subsiding as you rested your forehead against Azriel's, your breaths mingling in the intimate space between you. A blush crept across your cheeks as you realised what you had just revealed to him in your most vulnerable and intimate moment. The soft glow of your wings gradually settled, the dust they had created floating gently around the room like stardust.

"Azriel... I..." you began, your voice barely a whisper, emotions swirling within you like a tempest.

But before you could find the words to express the depth of your feelings, Azriel's firm yet gentle voice cut through the air, his eyes flickering with warmth and adoration as he spoke.

"Let me say it first," he insisted, his arms tightening around you in a comforting embrace. "You are my guiding light in the darkness, my entire soul's devotion...I..- I love you."

Your wings, now settled and slightly slumped with the weight of the moment, trembled at his words, the warmth in your chest swelling with each syllable he uttered. Tears welled in your eyes, reflecting the tear that had already spilled from Azriel's.

"I love you, Azriel," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I am yours forever, in this life and the next."

Your lips found one another again, bodies and souls intertwining under the soft glow of your wings.

 𓇢𓆸

As your friends reminisced about the first time they saw your wings, Azriel, ever the gentleman, only vaguely danced around his recollection. He shared that it had been when you accepted the mating bond for him. The vague blush that covered your cheeks was enough to dissuade further inquiry from your friends.

"Am I the only one who didn't realise you had wings?" Cassian asked incredulously, only to be met with a pillow thrown by Mor.

"You really need to brush up on your Fae race history and anatomy if you didn’t know she had wings" she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"I can’t believe it all had to be so dramatic though," Amren remarked. "I simply asked her to show me the first week we met, and she obliged."

You smiled nervously at Amren's confession, feeling the weight of your friends' stares.

"So you're saying we could have just asked all this time?" Feyre exclaimed.

You chuckled sheepishly. "I only hide them because they’re delicate... and you guys can be, well…"

"We can be what?" Mor's gaze teased as she leaned in closer.

Instinctively, you moved closer to Azriel for protection, but he seemed to find humour in the situation.

"Clumsy... not always spatially aware," you admitted with a sheepish grin.

"Is that so?" Cassian drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced at Mor.

"Show us your wings then," Nesta declared bluntly, slightly frustrated that Amren had gotten one up on her by simply asking you.

"No," you replied firmly, not wanting to suddenly bend to their will.

Cassian and Mor exchanged a knowing look, a mischievous plan forming between them. Without warning, they both lunged at you, their playful attack catching you off guard.

You cried out for Azriel's help, but to your dismay, he seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before him. Cassian's firm grip on your wrists pulled you closer to him, while Mor's embrace from behind left you feeling both trapped and ticklish.

"Not spatially aware, huh?" Mor teased, her fingers jabbing playfully at your waist, eliciting a cascade of laughter from you.

Your please for assistance only seemed to amuse Azriel further, his smirk betraying the mischief dancing in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, my love,” he chuckled, his voice laced with mirth. “But the outcome of this is one you know I love seeing.”

Your friends playful assault only continued, your giggles filling the room. And in the midst of it all, your wings unfurled, revealing the delicate, pink membranes that had been the topic of conversation for the past hour.

They fluttered from your back, casting a glowing aura across the room and around you. They resembled delicate petals kissed by the soft hues of dawn, shimmering an iridescent pink that mesmerised anyone who laid eyes on them. 

“There she is…” Azriel murmered under his breath. A fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He could feel the pride filling his chest as he watched you, gazing at your beautiful wings in all their ethereal glory.

But it wasn’t just your mate gazing at your with love.

No, your family found themselves grinning ear to ear, looking at you with admiration as they watched you glow.

A glow they were forever grateful for.

a/n: not really my best work, but just some loveliness for you all to read! It was an idea I came up with that I instantly dumped on @illyrianbitch (as I always do) and she thought it was a sweet enough idea to write, so here it isssss!! Enjoy my loves <3

Hopefully will resume series writing soon - Lottie x

[wendichester]

‧₊˚🍊༉‧₊˚. i kinda feel like an orange,

summary. you feel like an orange and dean will do anything for you.

pairing. dean winchester x you ; stablished relationship.

wordcount. 781.

note. inspired by this video.

You shift slightly on the couch, your calves still resting on your boyfriend's, Dean, lap. The warmth of the bunker's library wrapped around you two, bookshelves towering high with endless lore, while the faint hum of the overhead light fills the otherwise peaceful space.

You glance down at the massive tome in your lap, its frayed pages filled with ancient symbols and faded ink. This research session was taxing, to say the least. And though Sam was relaying on your help, you can't seem to hold your attention forever.

Your mind wanders, and before you even realise it, you blurt out, "I kinda feel like an orange."

Dean's eyes lift from his own book, pausing his reading to process your words. He tilts his head, his gaze settling momentarily on a distant point in the room as if the answer might be floating somewhere among the dusted books.

"Mhm," he mutters absently before turning toward you with a lopsided grin. "I guess I feel like a tomato."

You blink at him, caught off guard by his response. Then, a giggle bubbles up, your lips curling into an amused smile. "No," you manage between laughs. "I feel like—" you pause to catch your breath, your laughter lighting up your face and his. "I feel like eating an orange."

Realisation dawns on Dean, and his sheepish grin turns into a small chuckle. "Oh," He rubs the back of his neck, the corner of his mouth twitching in self-deprecation. "Well, we've got one in the kitchen."

Your laugh dissipates into a smile, your eyes flicking back to your book. "Yeah, but I don't feel like peeling it." Your voice dips, and your teeth catch your bottom lip as if embarrassed by the admission.

Dean closes his book with a definite thud, setting it on the couch beside him. He leans forward slightly, catching your gaze. "I'll peel it for you, sweetheart." His voice is soft, teasing yet affectionate.

Your cheeks turn a delicate shade of pink as you look up at him through your lashes. The sight of your flushed face sends a warmth blooming in his chest.

"I'll cut it for you. I'll sauté it. Whatever you want." He grins, sliding your legs gently off his lap as he moves to stand. Before he fully straightens, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. You tilt your face upward slightly, the corners of your lips lifting in response.

"Thank you," you say softly.

"Anything for you," he replies with a wink before heading to the kitchen.

You watch him go, your gaze lingering on his retreating figure until he disappears through the doorway. You can't help but shake your head, a small laugh escaping your lips. Dean Winchester, feared hunter, lore expert, and absolute softie when it comes to you. You set your book aside, pulling a throw pillow into your lap as you wait.

In the kitchen, Dean rifles through the fruit bowl until he finds the lone orange. He picks it up, turning it over in his hands as if it might hold some secret to making you smile even more. Man, he's whipped.

"Peeling an orange," he mutters to himself with a grin, grabbing a knife from the drawer. "Sam'd never let me hear the end of it."

He sets to work, carefully slicing through the rind and peeling it back in neat sections. As he works, his mind wanders to how this mundane task felt... nice. He'd do anything for you.

When he's done, he arranges the slices on a small plate, even taking the time to remove any stray bits of pith. Satisfied, he carries the plate back to the library, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

"One perfectly peeled orange, delivered to Your Majesty," he announces, holding the plate out with a small bow.

Your face lights up as you reach for the plate. You chuckle, “You’re too good to me,” your voice is warm with affection.

Dean flops back onto the couch beside you, pulling your legs back into his lap, arm draping across the back. “Damn right I am.”

You pop a slice into your mouth, savouring the burst of citrus. “You even got all the white stuff off,” you speak in an amused tone, glancing at him with an impressed look.

“Nothing but the best for you, sweetheart.” He leans in, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now, where's my reward?”

You laugh, leaning in to press a quick, sweet kiss to his lips. “You’re such a dork.”

“You love me,” he shoots back, his grin widening.

You roll your eyes but can't suppress your smile. “Like crazy,"

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[moonsaver]

You were his sister's enemy.

Well, he rather assumes it.

Robin defends you whenever he scorns at you, and simply mentions you as someone who just has trouble communicating. Sunday, on the other hand, does not take to your mannerisms politely. Although distance and discord within branches of The Family have long shifted his attention from his sister and their once joint dream, it doesn't mean his protectiveness of it has vanished.

Your singing was nowhere near as perfect as his sister's, he believes. Robin defends you, saying you're great in your own way, and both of you have different styles of singing. He comments on your more mature look with disdain, thinly admonishing it as vulgar, while Robin tries to convince him you just work under a sultry concept. Everything you did, it was never as good as Robin's, and whenever even a single track of yours threatened Robin's on the chart, Sunday would be displeased. According to him, you were competing for fame with Robin, and even the audacity of you to go such lengths was disdainful.

Robin, however, has been trying to convince Sunday to be on better terms with her lover.

He isn't exactly unnoticing of Robin's new lipstick that's in a different shade than what she'd normally wear. A new perfume that's oddly charming, but expensive, not exactly what he sees her picking out. Hair accessories that he's never seen in her drawers, nail polish he's never seen her wear before, a new fresh change to her voice that's making it livelier as of late, which is suspicious, considering all of this takes place simultaneously after she leaves your room.

It's not long until Sunday manages to get a quiet moment with you. Confrontation isn't foreign to him, and neither are implied, cordial threats that are already schemed within the front of his mind as he gently turns the handle to your door.

You greet him politely, as expected, and both of you get talking. He gauges you out, asking you specific and roundabout questions, eyes scrutinizing the familiar color of nail polish on your fingers that were once on Robin's, the half-used bottle of perfume thats slightly peeking out of the poorly hidden drawer which he's sure is something Robin would pick, the glossy, sticky tissue which he assumes you used to wipe off some sheer gloss, which you obviously don't wear.

He's hostile, and he doesn't quite hide it. Warning, teetering on edge, observing and calculating his next question and your responses with every second. But alas, he finally leaves you alone, and silently takes his leave.

-

Sunday hates you. And that is a hill he will surely die on.

Or rather.. what else would you call this ugly, seething feeling inside his chest?

Seeing your eyes soften, your smile quirk up on your usually stoic face, your lazy, languid hands finding their usually hiding spot, tucked onto Robin's waist.

It makes him seethe seeing you do those things with his sister.

Or really, anything you do.

The laugh you share with an overly friendly employee, the side glance, silent communication with some of your audio-managing team, the playful pinching of your cheeks by another singer that's far too comfortable with you.

Your actions are.. despicable. Sure they are. And he starts questioning just why. He deludes himself with any reason that is clearly beyond rationale, and barely constrains a scoff when you try and ask him about his dampened mood.

Of course, he should find them despicable when they're done to him, too. But he doesn't.

And it's even more infuriating. He smiles softly and laughs at some of your words, playfully bumps you from time to time, and chuckles when you return the favor. He feels special when you make certain eye gestures, remember a few inside jokes, and wink at him to keep them a secret. And once he returns to his solitary confinement, it dawns on him, and he should be grinding his teeth to dust from the absolute fury you supposedly induce in him.

But he doesn't.

He's only left with a light feeling in his heart, which slightly, mournfully dampens when he sees you do the same with Robin.

They've shared a dream once. Surely, they can share a love, too?

[jarofstyles]

Bite

Hello my friends! Here is a vamprry one shot. It’s a darker one but I hope you guys will like it. 🎃

Check out our Patreon for early access and 200+ exclusive writings

WC- 6.4k

Warnings- vampire h, blood play, he kinda kidnaps her tbh, dark h, soulmates, mask kink if you squint, oral (f receiving) smut, degrading, h is a vampire so their morals are not human-like you know

Her blood pressure was high. She was sure of it.

Going to a haunted house wasn’t her idea, nor was it her ideal for the weekend of actual Halloween, but her people pleasing ways had gotten her once again. The same with wearing a fucking dress, because they’d decided to go bar hopping afterwards. Not the brightest idea at all, but she wanted to stick it through.

It seemed to be going well enough until they got separated.

She had somewhat of an idea that someone was watching her. She just didn’t know how correct she was- or how much danger she was in. Harry's eyes narrowed as he watched her get separated from the group.

Fate had chosen his fun for the night.

He quickly disappeared into the shadows, his lip quirked under the mask. This was his favorite time of year. He knew these halls like the back of his hand, and he knew exactly where she'd end up. He followed her as she tried to navigate her way back, unaware she had no hope there was no real way back, his footsteps silent on the creaky floorboards. It was thrilling, the muffled screams from other rooms fading to let him hear her breathing, fast and panicked. Little heartbeat pounding away at her chest. She was so alive, and it thrilled him.

She didn’t have a clue.

The dim of the flickering lights cast eerie shadows on the peeling wallpaper as she hurried down the narrow, winding corridor, her heeled boots clicking nervously on the worn wooden floor. Her breath hitched in her throat as she heard a faint, raspy whisper carry through the heavy silence, the air thick with the scent of dust and fake fog.

“Why are you running, pretty girl?” The rasping voice had her turning around, only to be met with empty space. there was no one there. “What’s got you spooked?”

Her heart thundered as she clutched her chest, turning slightly as the voice seemed to move. Like it was circling her, almost. It was suddenly that the lights went out, making her freeze in fear.

What sort of haunted house was this? And could she get a refund?

Harry grinned wickedly as he watched her from the shadows. He had missed this. The thrill of it all soothing an itch he usually couldn’t scratch. Though his usual victims weren’t quite as pretty as her, he noted. They didn’t smell as good either. He ducked into a small, concealed alcove as she whirled around, her panicked breath misting in the sudden darkness.

She could hear the faint drip-drip-drip of water echoing through the darkness, and the distant sound of maniacal laughter from another room. But closer, much closer, she could swear she heard breathing. Slow, steady, and menacing. Her own breath caught in her throat as she tried to pinpoint where the sound was coming from, her eyes straining to pierce the inky blackness.

“Who’s there?” She whispered into the quiet. It dawned on her that there was no party following behind her. She didn’t hear the footsteps, she hadn’t realized she’d veered off course, but she was still in the haunt. This had to be part of it- right? “I- I’m sorry I got off the path. If you turn up the lights I’ll just go back to my friends.”

The breathing paused for a moment, and then it started up again, louder this time. It was definitely coming from right next to her. She could feel the presence of something, or someone, but she couldn't see a thing. Couldn’t feel any body heat. The only thing she could feel were the vibrations when she heard a low, chilling laughter that sent shivers down her spine. "You're lost..." The voice whispered menacingly in her ear. It was when she could feel the cool breath on her neck that everything in her panicked.

She jumped back, her heart racing as she stumbled backwards, tripping over her own feet in the process. She landed hard on the floor, her dress riding up to reveal her thighs. She heard the creaking of floorboards as whatever was there moved closer to her, its footsteps echoing in the darkness. "You shouldn't have come here... alone..." The voice hissed at her. “Don’t you know it’s dangerous?”

“I didn’t mean to! I got separated from my group. I didn’t mean to go off the path.” Her voice was weak and warbled as she felt the sting in her elbow from the fall. “Just let me out and I’ll be on my way.”

The figure loomed over her, its presence oppressive and menacing. "But where's the fun in that?" It growled. She could hear the rustling of fabric, and then a gloved hand reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to her feet. She struggled, her heels clicking against the floor as she tried to break free, but the grip was too strong. "You're not going anywhere."

He pulled her into the concealed alcove, her struggles turning into whimpers as he backed her into the wall. His gloved hands roamed her face, gripping her roughly as he grinned wickedly behind his mask. "You’re a pretty one aren’t you?” He chuckled. “Such a treat. Let’s play.” He reached out and caressed her cheek gently, a stark contrast to the other hand’s rough grip on her jaw as his thumb brushed over her bottom lip.

"Open your mouth." he commanded, his voice low and menacing. She hesitated, her eyes wide with fear- but he didn’t give. He tightened his grip on her jaw, his fingers pressing into her cheeks. "I said, open your mouth." he repeated, his voice leaving no room for back talk. Reluctantly, she parted her lips, her teeth chattering slightly. He grinned deviously and slowly slipped the glove off and his thumb into her mouth. "Suck. It’s for your own good.”

She hesitated again, but the menacing growl from behind the mask urged her on. She wrapped her lips around his cool thumb, sucking hesitantly at first, but growing bolder as he watched her with a dark, intense gaze. It wasn’t like she could see him, but there was no way she couldn’t feel his stare on him. The metallic taste was unfamiliar to her, but it was what would save her. His grin widened as he slid his thumb in and out of her mouth, mimicking a motion that made her blush furiously even in the darkness. "Lovely girl, finally listening to instruction." He praised, his voice hoarse. "Now, bite down. This is going to hurt, but it’ll feel good afterwards.”

The girl had no idea what he meant until she heard the mask slipping off his face and her head was tilted to the side. She barely had a second to think before she felt it. The sharp bite down on her throat, burning at the site as she let out a strangled scream. The man- or creature- let out a satisfied groan as he sucked at her throat, pulling what had to be blood from her. All her instincts told her to run, but she couldn’t. She was frozen.

He drank with deep pulls, his arm wrapping around her waist to hold her upright as colorful spots danced before her eyes, even in the dark. She felt lightheaded, her limbs growing heavy and sluggish. She could hear the pounding of her own heart, growing slower and softer with each passing second, the sounds of his sucking drowning it out.

The soft plush of pleasure started to hint over her, the pain fading into the fuzziness of warmth in her tummy and between her thighs. Just as darkness began to claim her vision, he withdrew, licking his lips as he admired the two puncture wounds on her neck. "You’ve got lovely blood.” He murmured. “So sweet. Best I’ve had all season.”

He leaned in close, his voice a soft whisper in her ear as he held her up. "I should have you for the full meal... but I have other plans for you." With that, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her deeper into the house, her limp body resting against his chest. She was tired, her mind fuzzy from the blood loss, but she let out a soft whimper as he squeezed her lightly to his body. “I usually finish my meals and let them run off, but I think you’re a bit too good to toss.”

Part of her questioned if she was awake right now as he carried her through because nothing made sense. When her eyes opened again, it was different. The house changed. No longer was it the decrepit source of the haunted house, but it was restored. Like it had shifted all in front of her eyes. She wasn’t sure what was real and what was fake right now, if this was even reality, but it didn’t make any sense. The cobwebs were gone. The smell was lavish, rich, like incense. The haul was lined with velvet curtained windows and hand painted oil art, none of the flashing lights or fake fog to be seen.

What the hell was this? And what was he?

He carried her into a grand bedroom, the four poster bed draped in black silk. It was nothing like her own and she wanted to fight him, ask him what the fuck was happening, but she had no energy to do it. He had taken too much from her.

The monster laid her down gently, smoothing her hair away from her face as he admired her pallid complexion. "You'll wake up tomorrow, thirsty and changed. But don’t worry, I’ll be here for you.” He leaned over her, his ungloved, chilled finger roaming over her cheek as he caressed her. "I’ll be the only one you crave.”

——

The sun streamed through the open curtains, casting a warm golden light over the room. The girl stirred on top of the duvet, her arms reaching out to stretch before she realized she wasn't in her own bed. Her body was stiff, a throb in her joints as she let out a little whimper at the feeling in her body. Everything felt heavy still. Slow. She sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes as she took in the opulent room- one she didn’t quite recognize at first. There wasn’t much time for her to go over who’s room it was, or why she was there though, because she felt a twinge in her neck as she tried to move her head. That's when she noticed the feeling. The thirst. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced, a burning, aching need that demanded to be quenched. There wasn’t any sort of suggestion about it, it was a need.

Her throat burned. It was a hollow aching in her stomach, the stinging of her throat, her hand reaching up to cover it as she flinched. Pulling it back she looked at the ring snugly fastened to her ring finger, a red gem with a gold band. It wasn’t one she had- or was it?

Her memory was hazy. She needed something, someone, but she didn’t know what it was.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the door creaked open and in strolled a man, one that seemed familiar in the way that unsettled her, a small glass of crimson liquid in hand. He was sans mask, his dark hair disheveled as he grinned at her. Bright white teeth gleamed at her as he stood in front of her, smile softening as he clicked his tongue. Something about his smile was off putting, but she couldn’t look away. "Ah, you’re up. Good. I was beginning to think I’d given you too much.” He held out the glass to her. “Drink."

The girl's eyes widened as she stared at the glass, her parched throat aching with desperation. She reached out, her hand shaking as she took the glass from him. The liquid inside was a deep, rich red, almost burgundy in color and didn’t look like something safe for human consumption as she swirled it to see it much thicker than anything she usually drank, but her body was acting on its own. She brought it to her lips, the cool glass feeling soothing against her dry skin. As she drank, she felt the liquid slide down her throat, the warmth a soothing kind instead of the pain, spreading through her body and quelling the burning ache.

She probably should have thought twice about taking it from the stranger, but she didn’t. All she cared about was getting rid of the pain, getting more of the liquid down her throat so it didn’t sting any longer. The whimper that left her lips was pathetic as he pulled the glass away, his hand reaching out to thumb the droplet that had fallen down her chin back up and into her mouth. There wasn’t hesitation as he pushed the digit in, her hand grabbing his wrist and sucking the remaining drop from his skin.

He let out a low hum, his free hand reaching out to gently tilt her head back, forcing her to keep his thumb inside her mouth. "You're so thirsty, aren't you?" The man murmured, his thumb moving slightly, pushing against her tongue. "Such a pretty little thing, and so desperate for something to quench your thirst."

The thumb was pulled from her tongue, swiping over her bottom lip as he towered over her. She had no idea what the hell it was, what was happening, but her body trusted him and craved more of whatever he’d just given her. “More.” She croaked, lightly digging her nails into his skin. “Please, I need more of it.”

“The newblood desperation isn’t usually this cute. I think I got quite lucky last night, don’t you think?” He chuckled darkly, his other hand reaching up to cup her cheek as he leaned in close. "You'll get more, but first... you have to earn it." His thumb pressed against her lips again, pushing them open as he spoke and tapped her bottom teeth. "I have a game for us to play. If you win, I'll give you all the blood you can drink." His voice was a seductive purr, his thumb sliding into her mouth once more.

“I’ll do it.” She whispered instantly. “Anything. I’ll play.” The girl didn’t even know his name, but she wanted to please him, she wanted more of the blood. It didn’t even click with her that it’s what she was drinking. All she knew was that she needed more and she was willing to do anything to get it.

"Excellent. That’s the spirit I like to see." He crooned. "Now, the game is simple. I'll ask you a question, and you have to answer truthfully. If you lie, or hesitate, the game is over and you don't get any more blood." He pulled his thumb out of her mouth, only to replace it with his other finger, gently rubbing against her tongue.

"First question...what's your name?" His eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched her, feeling the soft suckle she gave his digit. She didn’t seem to comprehend that he was truly talking to her, or she didn’t want to pull her mouth from his finger, but that simply wouldn’t do. "Come on, now. No need to be shy. You can speak around my finger, can't you?" He smiled, his voice firm. "Answer me." His thumb brushed against her bottom lip, encouraging her to part her lips and speak.

“Y/N.” She spoke, muffled around his finger. Her eyes were hazy and soft, body warming up from the blood settling in her system and the attentive stare of the man in front of her.

"Good. That wasn't so hard, was it?" He praised, slowly pulling his finger from her mouth as he spoke. He brought the digit to his lips, sucking the remnants of her saliva from it as he grinned at her. "Now, Y/N...do you know where you are? And how you got here?" His eyes were intent on her, watching every flicker of emotion that crossed her face. "Take your time. Think carefully."

She mourned the loss of the soothing she had from sucking, but she felt the hot zip right between her thighs as she watched him clean off his skin from her saliva. There was something about it that made her reach out for him, gently tangling her fingers in the fabric of his shirt as she peered up at him with wider eyes. It was a good question.

Where was she?

“I… I don’t know.” She finally realized she couldn’t quite place it. “Did we hook up or something after the bar?” It wouldn’t be the first time she did something stupid on a night out.

"No, we didn't hook up. That will come later.” It was inevitable. His perfect creation was made for him. The fates had been so kind to him last night, putting her in his path. “We ran into each other at the haunted house. You got lost. Got into some trouble." He gently unraveled her fingers from his shirt, lifting her hand to press a soft kiss to her knuckles. "You don't remember anything else, do you?" His expression was unreadable, but his voice was gentle, coaxing.

“No.” Haunted house? Her mind felt muddy. Like she was wading through quicksand as she tried to navigate the slow thoughts that seemed to be underwater in her brain. It sounded familiar. “I don’t like haunted houses. I probably didn’t want to go. I don’t… I can’t tell why I don’t remember.”

She had no recollection of him feeding off of her, of him finding her lost from her group and choosing her as his meal. She especially had no memory of him telling her why she was here.

"That's alright. You will, in time." He soothed, bringing her hand to rest over his heart. She didn’t notice it wasn’t beating. "For now, just focus on me. You're doing so well, Y/N. I'm very proud of you." His eyes glowed softly with affection as he spoke. "Here, have a little more. You deserve it." He bared his wrist to her once more, the vein pulsing enticingly. "It’s not the same as the other, but I think you’ll like it just the same. Drink."

Her eyes dilated, pupils swelling to consume the new color of warm gold of her irises as she stared at the offered wrist. Her breathing hitched, chest rising and falling rapidly as her hands trembled with anticipation. She reached out, fingers wrapping around his wrist as she brought it closer, inhaling deeply to draw in the intoxicating scent of his blood. A soft whimper escaped her as she leaned in, parting her lips to sink her teeth into his flesh.

It was all instinct. She didn’t understand why she was doing it, why she was so relieved to have her teeth in him. His finger pet at her hair as she breathed frantically through her nose, sucking the thick, sweet blood over her tongue with a soft moan. He tasted so good. It was going to be hard to stop.

He let her drink, his other hand cupping her cheek gently as he held her to him. His blood filled her, warming her from the inside out, making her feel alive in a way she never had been before. "That's it, my love. Drink. Take what you need." He whispered, his voice low and husky with desire. His thumb stroked her bottom lip, encouraging her to draw more deeply from his vein.

Her jaw ached as she continued to suckle at him, her lips sealed tightly around his wrist as her tongue fluttered against the wound she'd made, trying to draw more of it onto her tongue. She felt the smooth of his blood sliding down her throat, filling her belly, seeping into her very soul. Her fingers flexed against his wrist, nails digging into his skin as her body shivered.

He carefully unwound her arms from around his wrist, prying her fang-like teeth from his flesh with a low chuckle as she let out a mix of a growled whine from the loss. "Easy now, love. Not too much. I need to keep some strength for myself." He soothed, running his thumb along her bottom lip to catch a droplet of blood that had escaped. "Look at me, Y/N." He commanded softly, waiting until her glazed eyes focused on him before he continued.

"There you are." He murmured approvingly, his own eyes dark with unsated desire. He leaned down and licked the wound on his wrist clean, hissing at the sudden spike of pain before it faded. Pain and pleasure went hand in hand. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that?" He teased, his voice barely above a whisper. It would be true, if he could still die. He brought his clean wrist up to cup her chin, his thumb brushing across her bottom lip. "Such a greedy little thing."

She whimpered again, leaning into his touch as her eyes fluttered closed, savoring the feel of his skin against her lips. She could still taste his blood on her tongue, the metallic tang lingering in her mouth and making her want more. When she opened her eyes, they were glowing with a fierce hunger that made him chuckle darkly. "You're insatiable." He whispered, his own desire rising to match hers.

“I don’t….” She stood up, legs slightly wobbly as she faced him. “I don’t know what you did to me, I don’t know where I am, but I want you to stay.” Her hand grabbed his and wrapped his arm around her. The unprecedented need for him to be touching her, it felt just as desperate as the need for blood was. “Why am I feeling like this? I don’t know you.”

His other arm wrapped around her automatically, his large hand splayed across her lower back to support her. Dark eyes searched hers, seeing the genuine confusion in her gaze. He was a stranger to her, and yet her body craved his touch like it craved blood. He brought her flush against him, his other hand cupping her jaw. "Shh, it's alright." He soothed, his voice gentle.

"I'll explain everything, I promise. But for now, just...feel." He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, a soft, slow kiss that deepened into something more passionate. His hand on her back slid down to her bottom, squeezing possessively as his tongue slid against hers, sharing the taste of his own blood. He felt her relax against him, her body molding to his as her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. “Just know that you belong with me. To me. That’s what you need.”

Yes. This was what she needed. It made no logical sense, she knew, but logic was lost when it came to this. Ever since she had woken up she had been squirming, itching for something, and she realized now with his lips on hers and his hand grabbing at her ass, she knew this had been the missing piece.

“What’s your name?” She panted against his mouth, unsure if he had said it. Her mind was a mix of things and none of it logical.

He pulled back slightly, his breath ragged as he looked down at her. "Harry." He whispered, his thumb brushing across her cheek. "And you're Y/N." He handed her the reminder her gently, his other hand cupping her ass and pressing her against the growing hardness in his pants. "We're going to be together, Y/N. Forever." He promised, his voice dark with his promise. “I chose you last night.”

Why did that make her feel good?

She didn’t know him, and yet she was preening over the fact that he was promising forever with her. He could be an awful man. She knew nothing of him other than his blood tasted good somehow, he was one of the most attractive men she had ever seen, and she had gone home with him last night. None of it seemed to matter to her rationally. Maybe she’d lost her mind along the way; maybe he’d taken it from her. Regardless, she didn’t want to fight it. It felt wrong to fight it. “Forever?” She whispered, melting into him.

"Forever." He echoed, his voice a low growl that made her hot between her thighs. "I'm going to take care of you, Y/N. I'm going to give you everything you need. Teach you all you need to know. I created you, and I’ll take care of everything you need." He promised, his other hand sliding up her back and into her hair, tangling in the strands as he deepened their kiss.

He kissed her deeply, his tongue sweeping into her mouth as he held her close. His hand in her hair tightened slightly, tilting her head to the side to deepen the kiss further. His other hand never left her ass, squeezing it gently as he pressed her against his hard length. He broke the kiss for a moment, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he looked down at her. "I want to take care of you, Y/N."

She moaned softly, her eyes fluttering closed as she parted her lips to his expert kiss. Her fingers tightened in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as she pressed her hips against his, feeling his cock against her belly. When he broke the kiss, she whimpered in protest, her eyes slowly opening to meet his gaze. "Please..." she breathed, not even knowing what she was begging for, only that she needed more of him.

Harry's pride swelled at the sight of her, so needy and desperate for him. He loved it. He loved how much she craved him, how much she needed him. The choice to take her, to make her his mate was the correct one. It was in his bones, he knew it the moment he had heard the panicked pitter patter of her heart in the dilapidated facade of the hallway. He leaned down and captured her lips in another deep kiss, letting them linger. "Don’t fret. I'll give you everything you need, Y/N," He promised against her lips. "But first, I need you to sit on my lap."

The creature guided her with his hands on her hips, helping her straddle his lap. She wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively, her skirt riding up to reveal the softness of her thighs to the creature, against what was sure to be any sliver of self preservation. He groaned softly, his hands running over them appreciatively. He had so much to observe and worship with her- this was just the beginning for them. "Now, touch me." The vampire instructed, his voice low and commanding. "Anywhere you want." He watched as she hesitantly reached out, her hands exploring his chest through his shirt, feeling the hard muscles beneath.

He smiled encouragingly at her, his eyes darkening with desire as she grew bolder, her touch making him sigh as she ran her hands over his abs and chest. He could feel her touch through his shirt, her fingers trailing fire wherever they went. "More..." he encouraged, his voice a low growl. He wanted her touch on his bare skin. As if reading his mind, she began to unbutton his shirt, her fingers fumbling slightly.

He sat still, letting her undo his shirt, his breath hitching as she revealed his chest. He had always been proud of his physique, and the way she looked at him now, with wonder and admiration in her eyes only made him feel more smug about it. Once the shirt was open, she hesitated, looking up at him with a hint of uncertainty. As cute as it was… That wouldn’t do. He reached up and gently pushed the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the side.

"Touch me."

She reached out, her shaky fingers brushing against his bare chest. He hissed at the touch, his abs tightening as she ran her hands over them, feeling the hard muscles. The girl leaned forward, her hair falling over her shoulder as she pressed her lips to his chest, kissing and licking his skin with her lips smearing against the cool skin, falling into the intimacy easier as he held onto her and pushed her dress further up. Harry growled softly, his hands gripping on her hips as he thrust his own upwards at the tongue lathing over the side of his throat, the movement pushing his erection against her core.

Her breathing hitched, her eyes fluttering closed as she continued to kiss and lick his skin, her hips grinding down to meet his thrusts. She was so engrossed in the sensations that she didn't notice his hands sliding up her thighs, bunching up her skirt until his fingers brushed against the hem of her underwear. He broke the silence of panting breaths, his voice hoarse. "S’my turn. I'm going to touch you now, Y/N."

She needed it. Her body was yelling at her to submit, to let him touch, because that’s what was necessary. It was a craving. Words echoed in her mind, his voice telling her ‘When you wake up, I’ll be all you crave’ or something like that, but she couldn’t focus on it when she felt his fingers brush her humid cunt.

Her response was a needy whimper, her head falling back to expose her neck as her hips canted forward, giving him better access. He hummed in approval, his fingers slowly sliding under the lace of her underwear to touch her bare flesh. She was so wet, so ready for him. He rubbed her slowly, his touch gentle, coaxing more needy noises from her. "That's it, love. I know what you need. Let me give it to you."

He slipped a finger inside her, her tight warmth clenching around him. The sensation of it made him groan, his head dipping down to nuzzle against her neck, inhaling her sweet scent as he began to move his finger in and out of her slick hole. Her breathing caught, her fingers clawing at his shoulders as she panted his name. "Harry."

"I know, my love. I know. It feels so good, doesn’t it?" The croon was slightly smug, but she didn’t care. It felt too good to have his finger inside of her, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her neck.

"More." She begged, her body tensing as he curled his finger upward, finding that sweet spot inside her. He nipped at her neck, his fangs scraping against her skin, making her hips buck against his hand. It felt better than she ever remembered a simple finger inside of her feeling, but it didn’t make much sense. Nothing about this did.

"I'll give you more." His hand stilled for a moment, his fingers sliding down to gather more of her essence before he added another finger, filling her more for a few more thrusts. "But first, let me have a taste."

Y/N yelped in surprise as she was flipped, tossing her right on the mattress she had slept on. There was little time to prepare as he gripped her dress, tearing it in two so easily that she gaped at the strength of him. She knew the dress was slightly cheaper- she was on a budget, sue her!- but how could he do that?

The thought had to go on the back burner though, watching as he got to her knees between her thighs and spread them open for his viewing pleasure.

The man looked up at her, his eyes devious as he held her thighs open, preventing her from closing them. "Very pretty everywhere, aren’t you?” Leaning down, his tongue flicked out to taste her, dragging through her folds. She gasped, her back arching off the bed as the sensation of him tasting her rushed through her. "Mm.. and you taste so good here, too... Not just your blood. I did a good job in choosing, didn’t I pet?"

He didn’t give her a chance to answer, let alone think about what he was saying fully before he began to lick and suck at her, his tongue delving inside her to taste her nectar. Instead, she moaned, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her as she writhed with pleasure. He was relentless, his mouth working her clit with expert precision until she was panting and begging for something. What? She wasn’t sure.

"Please, Harry. I need..." Her brow furrowed as she looked down at him, unable to finish her sentence as his dark eyes looked up at her with his mouth expertly latched onto her, messily slick with her on his lips and chin.

"I know what you need." He snarled against her wet flesh, sending vibrations through her core. “Be quiet and let me give it to you.”

He sucked her into his mouth, his lips wrapping around her clit as he suckled. His tongue lashed against her, his hands gripping her thighs and spreading her wider as he buried his face deeper, licking and nipping at her delicate folds. His tongue plunged deep inside her, withdrawing and surging forward once more, making her keen as she tilted her hips up towards him, trying to write but unable to close her legs with how he held her open for him.

His hands tightened on her thighs as he devoured her, his fingers digging into her soft, warm flesh. She could feel his cool touch on every inch of her, his tongue plunging into her core again and again, his mouth suckling at her swollen pearl. She was helpless against the onslaught of pleasure, her hips bucking against his mouth as she neared the edge. "Harry, please. It's too much..."

He growled against her, the vibrations pushing her even closer to the edge. "No, it's not." The vampire mumbled, his voice muffled against her wet flesh. His arms wrapped around her thighs to hold her down as he continued to feast on her. Golden eyes lifted to meet hers, the possessive look in them making her feel hotter despite the cool touch of his hands. He meant every bit of this. There was no hint of casual about this. The man meant it when he said she was here forever. "You can take more, Y/N. You’ll take what I give you, because you belong to me now. I created you."

His words sent a flash of heat through her, his dominance washing over her like a tidal wave. He continued to eat her out, his tongue and mouth working her relentlessly.

It was simply too much.

The new blood in her veins, the unrelenting pleasure, the claim of ownership, all of it had her losing grip on whatever sense of reality she had left. Moans echoed through the room as she climaxed hard, her entire body shaking with the force of it. He didn't let up, continuing to lick and suck even as she came, prolonging her orgasm until she was a sobbing, shaking mess.

Her sobs turned into screams as another wave of pleasure hit her, his fingers joining his mouth as he pushed three inside her, continuing to pump in and out of her as he drank her release from her core. His tongue lashed against her as he drank her in, his fingers crooking up to find that spot inside her that made her see stars.

With a final lap at her pussy, he pulled back, his face glistening with her essence. His eyes locked onto her thigh, his hand trailing up to caress the tender skin. The creature needed more of her. To solidify their bond even more.

There was no words exchanged as he made the decision for them, spreading her out and finding the spot he wanted, where he could see the pulse still thrumming under her skin. He leaned down, his fangs sinking into her flesh as he drank from her, his hands gripping her thighs possessively. He growled against her, his voice muffled as he took deep pulls, her orgasm sweetened blood flowing into his mouth making him moan and his cock pulse inside of his trousers. She wasn’t a full blood like him. He’d be taking advantage of the human blood flowing through her veins every day for the rest of eternity.

His hands tightened on her thighs as he fed, his touch proprietorial and unyielding. She could feel the pull at her vein, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through her, heightening the sensitivity of her over stimulated body. She whimpered, her hands finding his hair and tangling in the silky strands as he drank from her. He didn’t want to pull off, knowing it made her feel good and knowing she tasted this good because of him, but he wanted to enjoy her in the softness of post orgasm and feed haze. Retracting his teeth, he sighed deeply, licking over the bleeding mark on her inner thigh. It was dangerously close to her cunt- something he liked.

A meal with a view.

The vampire had waited this long to take a mate. He deserved to enjoy it.

He lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers as he licked his lips clean. His face was a stark contrast of brutal and beautiful. Blood stained his swollen mouth and chin, a stark crimson against his pale skin. His eyes glinted with a feral light, his pupils dilated with satisfaction and desire. The creature’s dark hair was mussed from her hands running through it, making him look deliciously disheveled.

It was unsettling knowing something so dangerous could be so beautiful.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun together, little treasure.” He purred, giving her mound a kiss before licking over his bottom lip to chase the taste of her cunt and the blood he had just pulled. “My favorite creation yet. I can’t wait to play with you some more.” His nails dragged down the sensitive skin of her outer thighs, making her squirm in his grip. “I hope I don’t break you too soon.”

[strawmaerry]

gojo & megumi. | g. satoru

gojo satoru bringing home fushiguro megumi was something you did not anticipate of.

you were cooking a welcome home food for your menace, satoru, when he startled you with his teleportation and a frowning kid.

“hello to my prettiest girl, the love of my life, the light in the dar—”

you shushed him. “i thought you work as a sorcerer, never thought you would take kidnapping as a part time job.”

he pouted. he had the audacity to be offended. “excuse me?! how dare you accuse me of such blasphemous claim?”

you shrugged, used to his outrageous reactions. “well, you’re definitely the type of man that my mom warned me about. those guys who would entice you with candies just to get in a van?” you looked at him, up and down, “yup, that’s you.”

before he could answer, you heard a snicker from the kid. your lips slightly curled up before raising an eyebrow at your irritating (affectionately) boyfriend.

“oh,” he stupidly realized, “this is megumi, i’ve bought him from an auction.”

megumi kicked satoru’s shin and he pretended to be hurt. the spiky-haired boy dusted off the invisible particles on his clothes.

you snorted before going back to cooking dinner.

“so, tell me why you decided to change career that involves kidnapping children?”

“well, i wanted to practice on how to take care of a child when we decided to have one.”

you accidentally put your hand over the burning stove and satoru practically flies to you. he basically becomes a mother hen as he blows your hands.

“[name]! oh my god, what happened?”

you go to the sink to wash your hands as you blankly stare at your burning hands. oh man, you think your hearing is deteriorating. you’re hearing some things that are… impossible.

“satoru, you’re not funny.”

satoru, who has the most alabaster skin, pales. he’s hearing his government name. not ‘toru, baby, pretty boy, my husband.

“haha, pretty baby, what do you mean? i’m always funny. ha. ha.”

“don’t kid around like that. you know our job is…” you trail off, unable to continue the sentiment.

in a world where you attend more funerals than birthdays; you greet more corpse than people; having to work under those ungrateful elders, tomorrow is uncertainty, so you try to enjoy the present as much as you’re alive.

he seems confused for a moment before a dawning realization etches on his face. his eyes soften before wrapping his arms around your waist.

“i really wanna see you carry my babies, y’know? wanna see you round and full an—okay! i know we’re still not finish in school but whenever i see my future, i see you in it. i see us together. i see us forever and i want that. i don’t want to live in a life without your presence. you brought me so much joy if you weren’t crying right now, i would be on my knees begging for you to take me. make me your one and only. make me the happiest and luckiest man on earth because that’s my only purpose why i was born in this cruel, yet beautiful world. i live for you.”

tears run down on your cheeks as you hear satoru’s honest thoughts about his joke. oh my god, how did a simple joke turn into an almost-but-not-quite proposal?

you cradle his face between your hands and kiss his sweet, soft lips that utter nothing but devotion to you. you feel him smile against yours.

[abcabcabc6677]

The suffering carried away and the silent accusations

At the intersection of neon lights and dim streets in Ulaanbaatar at night, I am a member hidden in the so-called "corner of life" - a Mongolian sex worker. Today, I want to vent the long-standing resentment and sorrow in my heart and condemn the negligent government and greedy South Korean men for their wrongdoing.

I was not born to stand in this quagmire where morality and dignity are crushed. Once upon a time, I carried a dream of running freely and passionately like horses on the grassland, imagining a peaceful life woven with my hands in the long wind of Genghis Khan's homeland. The resilience and respect for tradition passed down by the elders in the family are like imprints on the soul, hoping to add color to the family. However, reality seems like a wild beast, dragging me into the abyss. Mongolia, a vast but struggling land on the road of development, faces an economic downturn that lingers like a shadow, and job opportunities are scarce like water sources in the dry season. As young people, we are bent by the negative pressure of life. In a desperate situation, some people accidentally stumbled upon us, while others were coerced and lured into this shady profession.

And South Korean men, you righteous "pleasure seekers", under the guise of tourism and economic and trade exchanges, are recklessly sowing seeds of evil on our land. Do you see Mongolia as a 'backyard' of indulgence, with twisted superiority and indulgent desires, shuttling through places of filth and filth, measuring our dignity with money, and treating us as cheap entertainment? In your eyes, do you have a trace of compassion for fellow humans? Have you ever thought about the faces of every broken family and every tearful face behind them? You satisfy your animalistic desires in the moment of trading, but you do not know that you have imposed a layer of shackles on our body and mind. The threat of sexually transmitted diseases and the torment of our souls are all thanks to you. In your frivolous laughter, our lives are shattered.

Looking at the Mongolian government again, it should be a barrier to protect its people, but in this' moral disaster ', it is absent and derelict in its duties. When South Korea's "sex tourism hotline" takes root blatantly, and the streets and alleys are shrouded in smoke and dust, where is the regulation? Why is the legal blade dull? Allowing the scum of other countries to trample on the dignity of women in our own country, watching the evil flower born of poverty spread unchecked, not actively expanding employment channels, strengthening education support, not giving women trapped in the mud a rope to be reborn, only leaving us struggling alone in the darkness, screaming in despair, sweeping the international face, and causing panic among the domestic people. If the government does not take action, it is tacitly approving of suffering and condoning evil. We are forgotten victims, shivering in the cold wind, waiting for the dawn of redemption. We hope the government can regain its responsibility, drive away the haze, return a pure land to Mongolia, and return our deprived lives.