#even if he never knew them as he love them
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readwritealldayallnight · 3 days ago
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(part of the Wife at First Sight series)
When Ghost had asked if you would help him with something, you’d answered yes without a question. You didn’t ask for details, smiling and thanking him every time he opened each door that led to the base’s parking garage, giggling when he even insisted on opening the truck door for you. You’d come to grow fond of your work husband, appreciating how he never failed to make you feel special.
You sometimes wished his affections were genuine, rather than part of what you’d assumed was a strange hazing ritual in the military (which you couldn’t deny kind of worked, the two of you had grown closer hadn’t you? Was that the point of hazings?).
But you knew that line of thinking wouldn’t lead anywhere, other than potential heartbreak. He surely was only joking around, wouldn’t return your feelings. That’s why you played along with the ruse, but tried your best not to fall too hard for the man who was making that more and more impossible.
Still though, you couldn’t deny the pang in your heart when you discovered the errand he requested your help with, was to go look at engagement rings.
Did he actually have someone special in his life? Someone he hoped to propose to?
You felt guilty, thinking there might be another person out there that he loves enough to ask them to marry him, all the while you’re enjoying his attention at work, pretending he could ever actually want you as his wife.
You follow him into the shop, eyes widening at the never ending cases and displays of shiny, glittering jewelry, as far as the eye can see.
He chuckles at your expression, telling you not to worry your pretty little head over any price tags, just to pick out whichever one you liked.
You appreciated that he trusts your judgement so much that he wanted your opinion on which ring to buy his partner, and so you take your time looking through them all, even if it makes you sad to picture him slipping this ring onto another person’s finger.
Gaze scanning the displays, your eye is instantly caught by one ring and one ring only. You point to it, Ghost humming in agreement, signalling for one of the employees behind the counter to unlock the case.
The man pulls the ring out, handing it to the Lieutenant who examines it in between gloved fingers.
“Let’s see how it fits.” He murmurs, taking your left hand in his and slipping the band onto your ring finger, both of your eyes locked on the movement.
“Like a glove.” The employee says with a smile, moving to gather a selection of ring boxes he hopes to show you both, seeing that the ring has evidently found its owner and fits perfectly.
“It’s really beautiful Ghost.” You tell him, admiring the ring as he admires your expression. “Your wife’s a lucky woman.” You add, thinking of the mystery woman you’re convinced he’s buying this for, assuming you must have a similar ring size to her or something, if he’s having you try it on.
Your eyes meet his own warm gaze as his hand folds your fingers, bringing the ring up to his lips to press a kiss through the mask.
“Not as lucky as I am to be her husband.”
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maskedbyghost · 19 hours ago
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Out of 141 who would try to convince reader to marry them for benefits? (The benefit of being able to call reader their spouse but reader doesn’t need to know that 😌)
love this question! honestly, i think all of them would do something like this, but here is something with my hubby simon in mind!
you squint at simon, confused. "so... you’re suggesting we get married. for... benefits?”
“yeah.” simon’s reply is casual, his face blank as always. “practical reasons. you get some perks, i get some perks. no big deal.”
you can’t help but laugh. “just like that?”
“just like that,” he repeats, shrugging like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “saves us both the hassle.”
“right… for the benefits.” you’re not sure if you’re buying it, but he seems serious, and hey, who are you to question one of simon’s half-baked ideas?
the next few weeks are surprisingly easy. simon handles most of the paperwork, and soon enough, you’re both technically married—on paper, anyway. just for the benefits, you remind yourself.
but then... strange things start happening.
simon begins doing things he never used to. he starts showing up with coffee, your favorite kind, without you even asking. he picks up groceries for you, just because he thought you might be running low.
“you’re... kind of acting like a husband,” you joke one night, feeling a strange warmth creep into your chest.
he grunts, brushing off your comment. “just looking out for you. comes with the... agreement.”
and every time you bring it up, he has some new excuse, some “benefit” you never knew you’d signed up for.
you start catching him watching you a little longer than usual, his gaze soft, almost... affectionate. but whenever you ask, he waves it off, like it’s nothing.
finally, one night, you can’t hold back. “simon, this marriage...what’s in it for you, really? don’t tell me it’s just benefits. no one does all this just for some perks.”
he’s quiet for a moment, his face unreadable. then, his shoulders tense, and he sighs, almost... defeated. “maybe i just wanted a reason to stay close. to call you mine. even if it was... only on paper.”
your heart skips a beat. all the little gestures, the quiet moments, everything starts making sense. “so... this wasn’t just for the benefits?”
“not really, no.” he looks at you, finally letting his guard drop, his eyes soft in a way they never are. “i wanted you to be mine. officially.”
it’s not a grand confession, not really. but it’s simon’s way, and in that moment, you realize it’s everything.
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@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving @blackhawkfanatic
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avelera · 2 days ago
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I am literally so baffled by how so many people think the Viktor/Jayce separation in Arcane S2 was:
1. Rushed
2. Deserved, because Jayce ignored Viktor’s wishes and that’s what Viktor was reacting to
3. A choice Viktor was making, literally at all
Let’s go through these one at a time but they’re all related.
1. Yes it’s rushed. That’s because of time constraints per episode, sure, but forget that for a second. Viktor getting out of his goo cocoon and immediately leaving while still STARK NAKED is weird. It’s very weird. It’s meant to be a five alarm fire, red klaxons blaring, levels of really fucking WEIRD. The guy is LITERALLY NAKED he just walks out, barefoot, into the Undercity.
It’s weird and it’s meant to seem weird and indeed, inhuman, because that is not Viktor. Those are not Viktor’s choices. That is not who Viktor is. And the fact it is so rushed is part of the warnings, and meant to show us just how much something is very very wrong.
2. Tying into Point 1, if this was a real disagreement between Jayce and Viktor as we knew them through S1, Viktor would have stopped to get some damn trousers and shoes. I know it sounds like I’m joking but legitimately, there is no (or very little) conscious human thought going through Viktor’s head in that scene because a human being choosing to leave their partner of years over legitimate disagreements would have stopped to get fucking dressed before they left. That is not Viktor.
And to briefly launch into a defense of Jayce, he has spent literal years with Viktor doing science to address Viktor’s failing health. He knew about Viktor’s fear of dying. They’d both dedicated themselves to hextech in the hopes it would better people’s lives but the more selfish goal at the heart of that research for both of them was that it would save Viktor’s life.
Viktor only told Jayce one (1) time to destroy the hexcore and he didn’t explain why at all. Jayce didn’t know about the self experimentation. He didn’t know about Skye’s death because Viktor never told him.
Jayce spent years working on a cure for Viktor and in a moment of blind panic used their research to save his loved one’s life based on what 99% of his interactions with Viktor with one (1) outlier would have told him that this is what Viktor would have wanted, which was to live, and using their research to make sure he lives has always not only been on the table, it’s literally been the main focus of their overarching research goals minus one weird and unexplained thing Viktor said once while a zillion other things were going on in Jayce’s life.
Jayce using their research to save Viktor wasn’t a conscious defiance of Viktor’s wishes, it’s literally what 99.99% of Viktor’s wishes that Jayce knew about would have pointed towards. He was as far as he knew enacting Viktor’s wishes, the wishes Viktor had for years upon years. Without knowing about Sky, Viktor’s one request to destroy the hexcore was a weird and out of character request that had no explanation. It didn’t hold up when compared to everything else Jayce has ever known and experienced with Viktor.
3. Whew, anyway, the bigger point is that Viktor is a Hexcore puppet at this point so it doesn’t even matter if he had legitimate grievance against Jayce. He’s not leaving because of grievances, legitimate or otherwise. Viktor would never leave Jayce like that (or while STARK NAKED).
Literally in one of the last scenes we got that gave us a glimpse of Viktor’s inner life and motivations, he told Singed that Jayce would understand and stay by his side no matter his choices or transformations.
Singed is skeptical. But Viktor WAS RIGHT. Jayce didn’t even blink, didn’t hesitate at all to hug him after he was transformed so drastically. But my point is: real Viktor was actively worried about losing Jayce. Real Viktor would not take off like that.
And in one last defense of Jayce, I think the reason he just lets Viktor go there is that he has always respected Viktor’s autonomy.
Jayce notes in S1 that Viktor would often disappear without warning. He never tried to control Viktor’s movements. That’s what makes Jayce yelling at him for going to the Undercity so shocking to both of them in S1.
Jayce is also traumatized and shell shocked himself when Viktor leaves. He’s not prepared and he doesn’t argue. He doesn’t do what he probably should which is prevent Viktor from leaving (literally naked and barefoot!) because it doesn’t occur to him to control Viktor’s movements but also because he’s in shock.
But he really should because again, that’s not Viktor. That’s not Viktor making a conscious choice, that is another power and impulse puppeting what is left of Viktor, using his tenuous connections to his identity like his guilt over Sky and his/his + Sky’s overarching desire to help people in the Undercity.
It has nothing to do with Jayce. Jayce’s choices are not why Viktor is leaving. And the real Viktor would never leave Jayce under such abrupt and INHUMAN circumstances.
We are meant to be as alarmed and confused as Jayce was. It is a part of a pile of evidence that something is very wrong with Viktor and indeed, the Viktor we knew is not the one in charge of his actions right now. How much of him is even left in there is what remains to be seen, and if who he was can ever come back.
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kateschi · 3 days ago
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same book, different chapters
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synopsis: an ordinary evening takes a turn when katsuki expresses what you've always known but never expected to hear.
pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader
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being with katsuki is a lesson in unspoken understanding. you knew who he is long before you started dating him—loud, brash, and not the type to share his feelings openly.
but it didn’t take long to realize there’s so much more to him than that. his love is quiet, reserved, and shown in the details:
how he pulls you out of the way of a passing car, or how he remembers the smallest things, like your favorite kind of tea or that you prefer your coffee without sugar.
and that is enough for you. mostly.
you didn’t expect him to be the kind of boyfriend who says "I love you" with ease. katsuki isn’t like that. it isn’t something you hold against him either.
but every now and then, a small part of you wonders what it would be like to hear him say it—to hear those three words slip past his lips in the same way they had from yours.
you say it first, a quiet “I love you” in the middle of a peaceful night when the world outside feels still.
his response comes in the shape of hugging you tighter, securing you in his arms. however, he doesn’t say it back, and you don’t expect him to. you don’t need him to.
still, there are times when you find yourself holding your breath, wondering if one day he’ll actually verbalize it.
it isn’t that you doubt his feelings. katsuki isn’t one to waste time on things or people he doesn’t care about.
you know how much he cares by the way he silently takes care of you, always putting you first in his own way, even when his words are rough around the edges.
it’s just that sometimes, words have a way of making things feel more real.
tonight is one of those easy evenings you cherish—one where you don’t have to think too much about anything. the two of you are in your kitchen, making dinner together, though “together” is generous.
you’re doing most of the work while katsuki stands next to you, arms crossed, casting a critical eye over everything you do.
“you’re putting too much salt,” he says, the frown on his face making you smile.
“pretty sure this is the exact amount the recipe says to use,” you reply, amused at how serious he always gets when it comes to food.
“tch, that recipe’s wrong. I could’ve made this better with my eyes closed.”
“then why don’t you?” you tease, turning your head to glance at him. his gaze is sharp as usual, but the small curve in the corner of his lips betrays him.
“maybe I’ll cook next time,” he grumbles, looking away like the very idea of giving in bothers him.
you laugh softly, enjoying the banter. this is something you love about him—how even in these simple moments, his presence fills the space with a sense of ease.
there’s no pressure to be anything other than yourselves, even when his blunt honesty clashes with your more relaxed approach.
as you stir the pot, you can’t help but let your thoughts wander back to the three words. you know katsuki isn’t the type to say things until he’s ready, and you respect that.
but part of you is curious—would it ever come naturally to him, or would it always be something unspoken between the two of you?
still, as you stand there, the warmth of his steady presence beside you, you realize that maybe you’re okay with it remaining unspoken. katsuki shows his love in ways that don’t need words to validate them.
and then, without warning, you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. you freeze for a moment, caught off-guard.
“katsuki?” you ask, your voice soft, as you lean into him instinctively.
he doesn’t answer right away, just holds you there. his touch isn’t hesitant, but it is different from the usual casual touches you’ve grown used to.
“you’re annoying sometimes,” he mutters, voice low in your ear.
you chuckle, relaxing further into his hold. “I know.”
there’s silence for a beat, and then: “but I love you anyway, idiot.”
you blink, unsure if you’ve heard him correctly. you turn your head slightly, trying to see his face, but he buries it against your neck, hiding his expression. “did you just—?”
“don’t make a big deal out of it,” he mumbles, voice suddenly gruff, though you can hear the embarrassment beneath the words.
a smile breaks across your face, warmth spreading through your chest. you didn’t expect it, but that makes it all the more special. he isn’t saying it because the moment demands it.
he isn’t saying it because you’re waiting. he says it because he wants to, because he feels it.
“I’m not,” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably as your happiness bubbles up in your voice. “but…I love you too.”
you feel his grip tighten around you and a kiss pressed to your shoulder.
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kofi — navigation — masterlist
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do not copy, translate, or plagarize
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avatar-anna · 2 days ago
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Never Really Over
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a little bit of divorced!harry for your consideration
"I just wanna see him."
Y/n gave her ex a long look, not betraying the warring emotions swirling in her belly. Harry rarely showed up this late. He rarely showed up unannounced, for that matter. It made things easier—seeing him when she could prepare herself for the encounter. Now he was here on her doorstep, hair messy and eyes all pleading and sad.
"I just put him to bed, H," Y/n sighed. It wasn't that she didn't want to keep Harry from their son, but it was way too late, and it wasn't his week.
It had nothing to do with the fact that Y/n had been feeling particularly lonely lately and seeing her ex husband be all sweet with their son would make her think traitorous thoughts.
"I know, I know, I've just... I've had a long day, and I just want to see him. I won't even wake him up, I swear. I just want to sit with him."
Despite the divorce, Y/n still knew Harry struggled with the demise of their relationship, and she did too, even if she was the one who ultimately filed. They were five months in, but she felt like no time had passed at all. She floated between half expecting Harry to walk through the door like he used to and frustrated by the way their relationship turned so tumultuous by the end. It was all too complicated, which was why she preferred Harry's visits to be planned. It helped her to compartmentalize.
But she saw the look in his eyes and couldn't help but empathize with her ex-husband.
He looked tired and lost and maybe even at his wits end a little. She knew that look well, she recognized it every time she looked in the mirror on the days Harry had their son. She knew what it was like to have a bad day and want nothing more than to hold their little bub and let him wash away every bit of stress and frustration. Y/n did everything she could to not go completely out of her mind when it was Harry's week with their son, and she imagined that her ex felt similarly.
"Twenty minutes," she said, opening the door further and stepping to the side.
Harry's shoulders sagged with relief. He stepped toward Y/n as if he was going to hug her, then seemed to think better of it and went straight inside.
Y/n stayed downstairs while Harry went up, letting him have a private moment with their son. She cleaned up in the meantime, putting away stray toys and books and fluffing couch cushions and refolding blankets. Anything to not think of Harry with her son, or the soft look he always got when he gazed down at their little boy. It had always been her kryptonite, and she wasn't sure she'd gotten over it yet.
A little while later, Harry came back downstairs. Having organized and straightened up everything she possibly could, Y/n settled on the couch with the glass of wine she'd promised herself earlier that day. She'd wanted to have it in her bed with her book, but she settled for scrolling on her phone until her ex eventually left.
"Thank you," Harry said, his voice soft, careful not to wake the five year old upstairs. "You didn't have to do that, but I appreciate it."
"Don't worry about it," Y/n said, trying to appear like seeing him didn't have an effect on her the way it used to.
"Really, Y/n, I owe you."
"Let's not go and make promises you can't keep again," she muttered.
Y/n felt guilty as soon as she said it. They were having a civil moment, a rarity since the whirlwind of their divorce. She hadn't meant to pick at old wounds and make them bleed again. Her response was a reflex more than anything, one that she couldn't keep in check when she was tired.
"I'm not the one who filed for divorce, Y/n," Harry said, a dark cloud of emotion overtaking his face. "If anyone broke promises, it was you."
"Those vows were broken long before we got divorced, and you know it," Y/n said, that old fire that was more of a dull ember these days rising to the surface.
Harry and Y/n fell in love hard and fast, both loving each other fiercely and with everything cell in their body. Their relationship had been full of passion and intensity and so much love it was almost suffocating. But it also meant that they fought just as hard. Their arguments often blazed and burned bright, then fizzled out until they were in each other's arms again as if nothing had happened.
Until the arguments got bigger.
And longer.
And Y/n just couldn't take it anymore.
Y/n could tell that the anger simmering in Harry's eyes was more for show. She could see the sadness, perhaps even loneliness, in those lovely green eyes of his. And maybe her anger was a little more bravado than genuine hurt too. Maybe it was easier to slip into familiar habits and poke at old wounds than admit the truth.
She missed him.
"Don't make me the villain here. You—"
"I don't want to fight with you," she said before Harry could volley anything back. "I shouldn't have said what I said. I'm sorry. It's been a long day for me, and I'm assuming yours wasn't a walk in the park either."
Harry didn't say anything, or do anything, for a moment. Then, he let his head drop, his shoulders slumping a little. Feeling more than a little bad for kicking him while he was down, Y/n stood up from the couch and fetched another glass before pouring some wine in it for her ex. "Here," she said. "A peace offering. You look like you could use it."
With a laugh that held no humor in it, he took it and raised the glass to his mouth, and Y/n tried hard not to stare at his lips. Or the column of his throat as it bobbed when he took a sip. Or—
"Is this one of mine?"
Y/n willed her cheeks not to flush. "I might've snagged a few bottles from your collection before we sold the house. Most of them went untouched anyways."
"They were aging," Harry said, a little of that humor and charm she fell in love with sparking in his eyes, the lines of his face. "You're supposed to let the bottles rest for a few years until they're at their peak, and then you drink them."
Y/n shrugged. "If you wait too long it goes bad and you miss out on a perfectly good bottle altogether, and then you do all that waiting for nothing."
She didn't mean anything by it, but both of them recognized the subtle truth in regards to their own relationship. Y/n wondered if they would ever be over this part. The stumbling through conversations and trying to avoid dangerous subjects that were littered between them like a minefield.
"Are you saying that's what happened with us?" Harry asked after taking another sip. "That I waited too long to appreciate what was right in front of me? What was perfect in every way the whole time?"
"I was talking about wine, not us."
"You've always been perfect in my eyes, Y/n," Harry said. "You and that perfect angel upstairs. Both of you are my entire world."
"Don't," Y/n said, taking a step back when she realized how close together they were.
"I miss you," Harry said, his voice hitching in his throat. "I miss waking up to our baby snuggled between us. I miss holding your hand while we watch him play at the park. I miss building pillow forts and playing pretend. I miss you, Y/n. I miss being loved by you. I hate that we're divorced. I hate that I signed those stupid papers and let you walk away."
Her throat suddenly felt dry, her heart pumping in her chest so hard she worried he might hear it. Blinking, Y/n tried to maintain the thread of composure holding her together. "You've had a long day. I can tell you need rest—"
"Don't patronize me," he said, stepping closer and closing the small distance between them once more. When Y/n didn't try to widen it again, Harry continued. "If you don't miss me, if you don't still feel what I feel, then say that. But if you do..."
Harry took Y/n's glass and set it down on the coffee table along with his own. He straightened up, one free hand lightly caressing your face, his thumb grazing across her cheek with a touch so delicate she barely felt it. It was agonizing. To have him right there, just the way she used to, and only get a phantom touch. It was maddening.
So maddening, that when he leaned in, Y/n didn't stop him.
She might have whimpered, and her knees might have slightly buckled, and she might have clutched her shirt between her fingers in a desperate, iron grip as Harry slid his mouth against hers, but she would deny it if he said anything about it later.
His kiss was all-consuming, he'd been a ghost in her new life for months, and suddenly he was everywhere—on her tongue, in her hands, against her chest. And she nearly forgot how explosive kissing him was. How it was almost like a dance that they'd mastered but were always learning new and exciting steps to. The softness of her ex's lips were as familiar as ever, but the stubble on his cheeks was new. She didn't recognize the shirt he wore, but she knew the body beneath it almost as well as her own. And his hands—
"We can't—We're not—Harry—"
Over the years, Y/n had grown used to the feeling of Harry's wedding band against her skin. When he held her hand, when he cupped her cheek, when he was spreading her open or landing a firm slap to her ass. It was familiar, a part of him that just seemed intrinsic after they got married.
But now, as she placed her hand over the one that held the side of her face as he kissed along her throat, it wasn't there. The band was gone, they weren't married anymore, and they certainly shouldn't be kissing like they still were.
"Just this once," Harry murmured, pressing the words along the curve of her jaw. "It's been so long, baby. I just want to feel you again. We can still be divorced after. Like last time."
Flames licked Y/n's core as she remembered the night in question. It had been the night the divorce had been finalized. Harry and Y/n signed and initialed every dotted line, the lawyers shook hands and left, then Harry and Y/n went their separate ways
Harry still insisted that her late-night message about a few of his possessions that got mixed in with her things was meant to have some kind of subtext, and Y/n would swear until she was blue in the face that her text was innocent, even if the activities that followed Harry coming over to "pick up" said items were anything but. It was a final goodbye. It was closing a chapter on a book neither of them ever really believed would end.
"Last time was supposed to be the last time," Y/n said, her voice shallow and not at all convincing.
"Tell me you don't want me right now," Harry said, his hand creeping beneath the waistband of her pajama pants. Y/n's mouth opened in a strangled gasp, too aroused and too in love with him still to push him away. "Tell me not to set you down on the kitchen counter and let me love on that pussy the way I used to. Tell me not to haul you upstairs and fuck you hard for breaking us up when we could've had this every. Single. Day."
Harry's last words were punctuated by the thrust of his fingers inside Y/n, each one making her curl around him tight. He lifted her into his arms and set her on the couch, the closest surface in the vicinity that wasn't hardwood flooring. His fingers still moving inside her, pumping slowly, he pressed a bruising kiss to her lips.
"Tell me not to love you anymore," he said, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip. "Tell me how to fall out of love with you. Tell me how to not dream of you. Tell me how to not want you anymore."
Y/n, who had succumbed to this moment, this lapse in...whatever it was, could only grip her ex's hair as he worked her over with his fingers, each word he spoke a balm to the loneliness these last months brought. She wasn't ready to start seeing someone else after the divorce, but now she worried no one would ever measure up to Harry. He ruined her for any other man who might try to sweep her off her feet in the future.
"Tell me, Y/n, and I'll let you come."
Y/n was a mess. She could hear it as Harry's fingers slid in and out of her quickly and harshly, then slowing down before she could finish. He used to do it all the time, knowing how worked up it made her, and now he knew nothing had changed.
"I—" she gasped. She was so close she could barely think straight. Harry's desperate words and the way his fingers curled inside her had her seeing stars. But if she knew her ex, he would stay there and edge her until she gave him what he wanted. "I don't know. I don't know how to make it stop. Please let me come."
Having thought she'd given him what he wanted, Y/n prepared herself for an earth-shattering orgasm. She surrendered herself to tonight, to him, even if she regretted it in the morning. Even if secretly she didn't, which would make her feel even worse.
But instead of pushing her over the edge, Harry removed his fingers from her altogether. The whine Y/n let out at the loss was perhaps a little undignified, but she couldn't think straight with the thick cloud of lust looming over her.
"Wh—"
"We're going to do this properly," he said, scooping her up into his arms and heading back upstairs, taking a left toward her bedroom. Their little angel boy was down the hall on the right side, but Y/n knew they still had to be quiet.
Once behind the closed door of her bedroom, they were both quick to shed each other of their clothes. Stitching ripped, a button or two flew, socks tossed carelessly to corners of the room they'd probably forget about later until there wasn't an ounce of fabric between them.
There wasn't time to stand and appreciate. This wasn't a romantic moment. It was desperate, a little angry, and intense in the way it always has been between them. Y/n kissed her ex-husband hard, her teeth sinking into his bottom lip and soothing the ache with her tongue until he eventually flipped her over onto her stomach.
"You can't be here by the time he wakes up tomorrow," Y/n managed to say. "I don't want to confuse him."
"I know," Harry said, lining himself up with her entrance. "But wouldn't it be so nice if I did?"
"Harry—"
"Relax, baby, I'll abide by your rules," he said, his voice a soft caress. "Just let me have you tonight, and then I'll be gone."
Harry slid in with one smooth thrust, Y/n's mouth dropping open in response. She hadn't been stretched this way in months, and the feel of him inside her again as if nothing had changed...
"Fuck, Harry. I'm—I'm so close," she moaned, unable to say much more than that.
His movements were torturously slow, prolonging the climax he'd been teasing out of her on the couch. Then he leaned over her, his body pressing deliciously against hers.
"We may be separated, but you're still mine," he said, his words accented by his own pleasure. "These hips? Mine. Your tits? Mine. This little cunt? Well, she already knows. Absolutely drenching me. And tonight, I'm going to make sure you remember that."
Y/n could only whimper and wait to take whatever her ex-husband was willing to give her.
*.*
Y/n was having the best dream.
Sun streamed through the small crack in her bedroom curtains as she snuggled under the weight of the warmest, coziest blanket. She held onto it, wrapping it tighter around her, hoping to get a couple more minutes of sleep before her son eventually barged in and demanded they start their day.
She had a million things to do, but none of it seemed to matter while she slept. She felt relaxed in a way she hadn't in a long time.
Then the dream seemed to change. The cozy blanket became an arm draped over her, a leg tangled between her own, and a firm body pressed against her back. The unknown form wrapped around her began to kiss along her bare back, the arm tightening its grip around her waist. Her stomach flipped as a hand began to play with her breast.
She hadn't had one of those dreams in a long time, either.
Before the dream could go any further, Y/n regrettably began to feel the pinpricks of consciousness. But as she blinked her eyes open, she still felt that weight of another body next to hers, of someone other than herself occupying her bed.
It was then that last night made an appearance in her mind, recalling every dirty detail of how she'd given into her ex-husband.
"Good morning."
Harry's voice was low and gruff as if he'd only just woken up himself. The puffs of his breaths dusted over Y/n's skin and sent goosebumps all over. She didn't understand how her body, even while it was still waking up, was so responsive to him.
As casually as possible, she said, "You weren't supposed to stay over."
"Honestly, I don't even remember falling asleep," Harry admitted, though he made no move to leave her Y/n's bed.
"You have to go before he wakes up," she insisted, even if her body was completely against that idea. "He can't find you here. If he does, he'll have questions, and—"
Before Y/n could even finish, she heard the soft patter of feet against soft carpet. Then her door creaked open, and the light of her life appeared.
"Daddy!"
Y/n rested her hands over her face, but not before seeing Harry's broad grin out of the corner of her eye, one that was nearly identical to the little boy at the foot of the bed.
"Hey, buddy," Harry said, his voice less husky than it was just moments ago. "What are you doing up so early, huh?"
"Why are you in bed with Mommy?" the boy asked, climbing into bed with his parents and wriggling around until he was snuggled between them.
Wasn't that the question, Y/n thought, though she was in no rush to help Harry.
"Mummy and Daddy decided to have a sleepover," Harry explained.
"Oh. Well, why didn't you invite me?"
"Because..." Y/n felt Harry's gaze on her, but she was not inclined to dig him out of this hole. Their night was over. It was a new day, which meant everything was back to the way it was before Harry came over last night. "Because I wanted to surprise you this morning. We're all going to spend the day together. Just the three of us."
"Yay!"
"What?"
Y/n glared over the top of her son's head as he half-hugged half-tackled Harry from sheer excitement. This was definitely not reverting back to their normal routine of co-parenting and seeing each other only when it was necessary. Harry, who looked thoroughly pleased with himself, slid out of bed with their boy still latched into him.
Thankfully, he was wearing underwear, but that didn't help Y/n much. She couldn't help but stare at his muscles flexing as he stood and stretched while he held their son. At all the tattoos that littered his body and the mess of curls on his head. He had no right to look this good in the morning, especially when Y/n knew for a fact that she always looked haggard no matter what when she first woke up.
Not that her appearance in front of her ex mattered to her.
"Come on, let's start with making your mum some breakfast. I'm thinking...waffles?"
"Do not make a mess of my kitchen, Harry," Y/n warned, not even bothering to protest the idea in its entirety. She wouldn't have been able to tell her son no even if he tried. Not with how excited he looked at the prospect of spending the day with his dad.
"We'll clean up after ourselves, I promise," Harry said with a wink in your direction. "You stay there and rest. I know you had a...long night."
Y/n threw a pillow at Harry's retreating form before flopping back into her bed. She had half a mind to strut right over to him and prove him wrong, but, well, the dull ache between her legs was starting to make itself known, and the damage of her son seeing Harry in her bed was already done. She might as well stay in bed and take the morning off if Harry was offering.
Sighing, Y/n ran a tired hand over her face as one realization after another made themselves known.
Everything about last night and this morning was messy and would no doubt bring about consequences and difficult conversations she wasn't inclined to have. There were questions she didn't want to ask or know the answer to, but one thing was abundantly clear:
She was well and truly fucked.
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crazyvik97rpg · 1 day ago
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Grandma Lillian showing up was honestly the most pleasant surprise – Sebastian hadn’t expected her at all. She herself had to deal with rough health problems lately, she was over 80 years old and it’s also been the reason they didn’t celebrate Christmas at her place last time. Her being here cheered Sebastian up a lot. They didn’t see each other often as it was.
They had a lot of catching up to do, to say the least. She got herself a chair and sat right next to Sebastian’s bed and they just…talked. A lot. About everything that happened. Grandma Lillian had been quite shocked about the news to say the least – she said herself, being sick by 80 was not unusual. 30 however? That was simply terrible! Sebastian still had his whole life ahead of himself – after that terrible drug–scare no less.
Well, they both could agree to that anyway – Sebastian couldn’t deny that it was something he never ever wanted to experience and yet he was here. He told his grandma everything – the appointments, the diagnosis, the whole process of arranging more tests, that William managed it all for him. How they even spotted the mole in the first place. She knew about Sebastian’s „new“ boyfriend, however never managed to meet him before – she often heard things about him at least. Cynthia loved him a lot – and that was saying something!
„And William said I should have it looked at because it looked so strange. Nothing he‘d ever seen before on me, at least. And it was for the better, he probably even saved my life that way…“, he sighed.
„Well, good thing you have such an attentive young man, dear. You men usually overlook these things, are you getting checked regularly? Well from now on I hope you do that“, she said as she held Sebastian’s hand. They spoke about lots of other things too though. It seemed William was a little late today, it was half past 4pm when the door suddenly opened.
They were in the middle of the conversation when William barged into the room, apologizing for being late. He was cute, really, kind of in a rush – Sebastian smiled at him and motioned to him to just come closer after he came to a halt, once he noticed the other visitor in the room with them. „Oh love, there you are…I already started wondering when you might show up“, he smiled and his grandma too looked up now, smiling as well. She figured out right away who that was – so she got to meet the new boyfriend after all.
„Grandma, that��s William. William, that’s my grandma Lillian. Mom‘s side“, Sebastian introduced them quickly. Lillian stood up for a moment, so they could actually shake hands properly: „It’s so lovely to finally meet you, William. I would have loved to in different circumstances, I have to admit“.
For I have sinned...
The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 
William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 
“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 
William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.
“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”
“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…
***
Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?
So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.
After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.
The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 
He was in for a bit surprise.
@crazyvik97
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fallbhind · 3 days ago
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‘CASUAL’ RAFE CAMERON
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genre smut, angst wordcount 1.4k
❝ i've heard so many rumors. ❜
content warnings ,, mentions oral (f!receiving), p in v, masterbation in the bathroom, 'no attachment sex', rumors (blegh, drama llama.), rafe and reader break up. s1 era.
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it was so tiring being rafe's quick fix because you just wanted a real thing, y'know, not some quickie on his couch. the worst thing? your friends (not so friendly friends) call you a loser because you still hanging out with him, when any girl would have done dumped him and found someone better. but he is, or was your better.
sure, you did everything with rafe (when he called you up, not when you asked. sure one day you were fed up, left him a voicemail because of course he wouldn't pick up for you. "i've heard so many rumors." you said through the crackly phone. "that i'm just some girl you bang on your couch, i can't believe i thought you thought of me better."
an hour later (per usual), he answered you an hour later, telling you to 'hurry your ass out to tanneyhill'
you thought for a long hard while before ultimately deciding to head out to tanneyhill. where death literally layer waiting for you in your grave. you knew quite well what he was mad about and what he wanted, because you've sent multiple voicemails about the rumors going around outerbanks, you've heard about them and you‘be literally heard tourons living in the drama with you and rafe.
and you could never leave your back turned to long before people behind started murmuring up a storm.
you walked closer to your death in your busted up converses, running over impossible scenarios in your head. you stopped at the gate, texting rafe 'im here come to the gate.' you said with all intentions to be sassy. when you saw him, his pushed back curtain bangs, every part of him looked so hot.
he opened the gate, telling you to come on. rafe roughly grabbed your arm, taking you to his fathers study room were he did most of his work. whilst you were extremely liked throughout the cameron household, only you, rafe and maybe even sarah knew the real intent to your relationship. rafe said annoyingly, "we're not together, let me make myself clear.
it was like his mood immediately changed as he continued, "just a quick fix whenever we need it." when what he really meant to say was when he needed it. maybe you really should dump him. if that's how it really works. he kissed your forehead, "'n baby, no attachment." though three weeks ago he excused the both of you so he could be knee deep in the passenger seat while he was eating you out, remembering all those sweet nothings he whispered into you pussy that made you give him what he wanted. not to mention, he always acted so lovey dovey with you. and it was about time you got fed up.
you didn't expect for his step-mom, rose, two weeks later after the major argument with rafe to invite you for dinner at tanneyhill. rafe, put on a mock smile, ready to peel the skims dress off your body. you were greeted by ward, and did he piss you off, with the fake smiling and his eyes trailing across your body whenever he could. perv.
"welcome, you look nice and sophisticated." ward said with the nicest tone he could bear, "no wonder rafe doesn't bring you up, your so lovely i'd hog you to." he laughed, and it sounded so fake. rafe had his hand on the small of your back as he led you into the dining room.
you took a seat in between wheezie and sarah, rafe sat across from you, with a pissed off expression. like, how could your's and his situation be casual now? you've literally done every thing, fingering, eating you out, a little bit of intercourse action, you've jerked and sucked him off, and you've let him jerk off onto your tits, and it was somehow casual.
after dinner, rafe again, excused you and him to go to the bathroom. he led you to the bathroom, shutting the door as he told you demanding to get on his counter, you back pressing against the mirror. "fuck, y'look s'good tonight." he pushed up the skims dress up to your hips, "'n no underwear?"
"all'that arguin' f'nothin', still my sweet, sweet sluty girl, ain't you?" he slowly rubbed your thighs , "you gotta be quiet though, don't want to embarrass yourself, do you?" he smugly grinned when you nodded, he dipped his fingers into your cunt, and your let out a surprised gasp, squeezing around his fingers.
he kissed you, whispering sweet nothings like you and him didn't just have an argument two weeks ago.
he unbuttoned his pants, using his index to hook the loops were a belt would be to shove them down, following his boxers. he wiped the pre-cum off his tips, using his thumb to slide it into your mouth. "my girl takes everything." he whispered as you attentively sucked on his finger.
you sucked off all the pre-cum off his cock, rafe patting your cheek gently. he spread your legs more, giving him a great view of your pretty, coated pearl, pressing his finger against it, you rolled your head back into the mirror.
"rr-rafe!" you stuttered out as you cried out. he pulled away from your pretty pearl, aligning his cock with your tight hole. he thrusted into your hole, making you cry out for him again.
he squeezed your cheek, holding you in between his thumb and index finger. "c'mon baby give me more than that. not to loud though." he whispered harshly against your neck, gripping your thighs as he kept repeatedly bullying his way into you. and without break, he kept thrusting his cock into you, with a sneaky smirk. "your my girl aintchu?" he kissed your neck, taking a rest inside you.
rafe nipped at your neck as he moved his cock against your gummy hole. feeling you squeeze around him when he bite and sucked on your neck, he kept doing it. even if it felt like you wanted to squeeze his cock off inside of you. "s'tight. jus' how i like it." he whispered against your shoulder, bullying his way back in you as your gummy walls tried to push him out. he aggressively grunted in your ear, feeling the warmness off your breath as you let out a whimper and even softer moans. you gasped when he touched your g-spot, immediately convulsing around him but not yet coming on his cock.
he'd pulled out just before you could finish. he pulled his boxers, following his pants. he buttoned them up, leaving you desperate for release. you found yourself rubbing your clit trying any method of running your clit to come, though you weren't quite being able to finish off yourself. maybe the problem was that you never had to do anything yourself. you came on rafe's cock than he would come on your stomach.
you tugged your black skims dress back down, putting your heels back on as well before making your way out of the bathroom. you sat across from rafe as he had the satisfaction of making you better than before and not helping you like usual. it was great to see you a little grumpy, whilst a little nervous because you decided to be a little slut and go no underwear. but doesn't mean you weren't his little slut.
you were obviously out of it, because sarah had to tap you back into reality as everyone started eating. you cut the steak up before taking a bite of it. "this is really good ms. cameron, you'll have to teach me how to make it." you said cheerfully. rose smiled at you and nodded.
she was really proud of the fact you thought it was that good, but than of course, her cooking for the cameron's was something any mother should do, while some might think that she'd hire someone, she did it herself.
a week later, your friends had told you rafe had said it was casual still and that 'you get off when he hit it' when he never hit your clit not once. sure he left you drying for release but that wasn't the point. and that was near the last straw for you. you were tired.
you wanted a real relationship which was obvious that rafe wasn't ready for, so you found yourself calling him. and again, it wasn't something were he'd answer you, you said to him through the voicemail "i hate that i let this drag on so long, now i hate myself." you took a breath, "we're done." you said before slipping your phone in your pocket and walking away from the wreck after just having breakfast with your friend.
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TAGS .ᐟ @archiveofvirtue @sematarygirls @beausling @mattsdolll @pr3ttyf4wn
@wi4hfulth1nking @gibson-g1rl
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berryz-writes · 16 hours ago
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Maps
Azriel x reader
Summary: Azriels daughter finds his scars far more interesting than the map you're trying to show her, indirectly healing a part of Azriel he had left in the dark
Note: I had to make some last minute edits on my phone so the spacings and other things might be slightly off. OTHER THAN THAT, enjoy some more fluff <33
@azrielappreciationweek day 2
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I spread the map of Prythian across the table, carefully smoothing out the edges so Alaiyah could see it. Her little hands gripped the tables edge as she leaned in, dark brown ringlets tumbling over her face, her dimples peeking out as she tried to focus.
Her hazel eyes—Azriel’s hazel eyes—peered down with intense focus, so much energy and curiosity in that tiny frame, and I felt my heart swell as I watched her.
“Look, Alaiyah,” I murmured, my finger tracing the spot where Velaris lay hidden in the mountains. “This is where we live. You remember the pretty lights at night, don’t you?” She tilted her head, scrunching her little nose in thought. For a moment, I thought she was captivated, her gaze roaming over the detailed lines of rivers and mountains. But then, she looked up at me, a spark in her eyes, a hint of mischief, and she shook her head, a dimple flashing in her cheek as she whispered, “Im going to daddy”
Before I could respond, she slipped down from her chair, her tiny bare feet padding softly across the floor to the bed where Azriel sat, watching us with that quiet, contemplative look of his. She clambered up with ease, settling herself into his lap with a confidence that had Azriel momentarily taken aback. His lips parted slightly, but he stayed still, watching her with that gentleness he only kept for her and me.
Alaiyah took his scarred, calloused hand between her own, her chubby fingers so tiny as they tried to span the length of his broad palm. Azriel’s whole body stilled as she traced each scar and line with careful fingers, her small brow furrowed as if this were a puzzle only she could solve.
“I like this map” she murmured with conviction, tracing a deep scar across the center of his palm. "This is the mountain" she said, tapping near his thumb, her voice soft but certain. “the river,” she added, running her finger along a thinner line on his wrist.
Azriel’s expression softened, as he allowed her to continue, his shadows curling closer around them as if forming a cocoon. He lowered his gaze, watching her with an intensity I hadn’t seen before—a quiet awe mixed with something raw and vulnerable.
Finally, Alaiyah looked up at him, a shy, dimpled smile lighting her face as she whispered, “This is my favorite place.” Azriel’s thumb brushed softly over her small hand, and he swallowed, his chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths, as he pressed a kiss to her one cheek, then another.
He raised his gaze to meet mine, his eyes holding an unspoken gratitude, a love so deep it felt as if he’d let his very soul be opened up and laid bare.
And as Alaiyah nestled herself closer to his chest, her small fingers tracing his skin with reverence, I knew she’d shown him something he never thought he could find— a peace, within himself.
Azriel’s gaze lifted to mine, his eyes catching and holding mine with a warmth that sent a flutter through my chest. Without a word, he extended a wing, unfolding it slowly, curving around to make space for me beside him and Alaiyah. I moved quietly across the room, settling down against him as his wing wrapped around us both, a sheltering cocoon of warmth and protection.
Alaiyah, noticing I had joined the daughter and father duo, turned and leaned against me, curling her tiny fingers around mine as she nestled between us.
After a moment of silence Azriel leaned down, his voice soft as he spoke again. “Did you know,” he said, glancing between us, “this is my favorite place too?” I felt his words settle over us, a quiet, unspoken promise woven into the gentle hold of his wings and the warmth of his arms. I leaned into him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Alaiyah's giggle broke through "Silly daddy. I'm not a place"
Gods did I love her, I thought as Azriel’s laughter washed over me. How I wished I could capture this moment forever.
Note: pretty sure all the fics I've planned for az are fluff 😭 who cares he deserves it
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cressidagrey · 20 hours ago
Text
It's a Love Story - Chapter 5
Summary:
Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.
Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.
And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.
Warning:
Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.
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“Where’s Az?” Mor asked as Nesta and Cassian entered the dining room at the River House.
“Busy,” Cassian said with a shrug, as he pulled out the chair for his mate, greeting the rest of their family with a smile. 
Mor cocked her head, a small frown appearing on her face. "Busy?" she repeated, a note of curiosity in her voice. "What's he up to?"
Busy. That had been Azriel’s answer to nearly everything after Koshei. Busy.
Even quieter than usual. Keeping away from all of them…and Cassian still heard that one sentence echo in his head. Better me than you. Like somehow Cassians life was worth more than Azriel’s.
Azriel was just being noble and self-sacrificing as usual, right? Cassian knew that his brother didn't really think that way, didn't really believe that his life was worth less than anyone else's. But still, the words haunted him. He couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, somewhere, he had let Azriel down. That he hadn't been there when his brother had needed him the most.
Maybe he should have tried to talk to him...when it all went down… but then he hadn't realised what exactly was even going on, until Nesta had flatly laid it out for him one evening. Azriel had gotten over Mor only to fall in love with Elain...and that hadn't ended in his favour either.
Cassian grimaced just thinking about it. Azriel deserved to be happy. Azriel deserved a mate that loved him, a female that fucking adored him…and instead his brother had fallen not just for one, but two unavailable females. 
And Azriel hadn’t complained. Not once. He had never let it show.
He always kept his emotions hidden under that stoic mask of his, like he was afraid of letting anyone see how much he was hurting. Cassian knew that Azriel would never ask for help, that he would never admit that he needed someone to talk to. But that didn't mean that he didn't need it. 
Cassian just wished that he could find a way to get Azriel to open up, to let him in…that wouldn’t involve beating him to a bloody pulp. 
Azriel acted like everything was fine. Azriel acted like he didn't care. Cassian knew that it was a mask, knew that it wasn't the truth...but Azriel liked to pretend it was...and maybe it was better to let him pretend. 
It wasn't like he was hurting anybody with it, right? He was doing his work just as well as he always did...and if he wanted to spend his free time reading Sellyn Drake books, maybe they should just let him do that…maybe it made him feel better. 
"Maybe he's seeing his secret girlfriend," Cassian drawled.
Mor snorted at that suggestion. "Please," she said with a roll of her eyes. "As if Azriel would ever have time for a girlfriend, let alone a secret one."
"You would be surprised," Cassian muttered under his breath. Apparently Azriel had time for reading Sellyn Drake novels while locked into his room, after all. 
"What's that supposed to mean?" Mor wondered. "He has been...distant lately," she said with a pout.
Cassian could only stare at her. Mor couldn't be serious right now, could she?
Of course, Azriel was distant to her. Mor had fucking broken his heart and trampled on it to top it off. And Cassian had helped her with through the years. He probably owed Azriel an apology for that as well.
And still, Azriel hadn’t complained. Azriel hadn’t called them out. Azriel had taken it silently. Had even congratulated Mor when her Mating Bond with Emerie had snapped. Had been painfully polite, making painfully sure that he didn’t cross any lines, didn’t make Emerie uncomfortable in any way. 
"Just leave him be," Cassian said with a shrug. "He's reading Sellyn Drake novels, he'll be fine,” he waved her off. 
Rhys nearly spit his wine over the table and instead started coughing violently. "Azriel is reading Sellyn Drake novels?!" he asked Cassian with an incredious stare.
"Apparently he has trust in Nesta's taste of literature," Cassian answered easily.
Mor raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Sellyn Drake novels?" she repeated, eyeing Cassian like he had gone mad. "Since when does Azriel read those kinds of books? He's not exactly the...romantic type."
Or maybe there just never had been a single person that had appreciated that side of his brother. Who knew what Azriel actually was into. 
Elain and Mor weren’t similar in the slightest after all. 
Cassian shrugged. "Maybe he's expanding his horizons," he said with a grin. "Or maybe he just wants to see what the fuss is all about. After all, Sellyn Drake is...surprisingly good. Or so I've heard, anyway." He gave a sidelong glance to Nesta, who simply rolled her eyes at him.
Still, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rhys play absentmindedly with the stem of the wine glass. There was something there...between Rhys and Azriel that Cassian couldn't quite put his finger on. Some kind of tension...some kind of...something.
But lately, it had seemed like that tension had only been getting worse. Like they were both holding something back, like they were both waiting for the other shoe to drop. Cassian couldn't help wondering what would happen when that tension finally snapped.
***
"Winnowing or flying?" Azriel asked Sky as they stepped out into the icy early winter air.
"I...I can't...fly?" Sky answered haltingly, looking at him with these devastating blue eyes. They were beautiful. Not a light blue, not a teal, not bordering on violet…just beautiful near cobalt blue. She probably would match his siphons, he reflected weakly. 
"I'll fly, I'll carry you," he gave back with a chuckle. She stared at him like he was insane, her cheeks reddening.
"I...I...you...can...can't carry me. I am too...heavy," she mumbled. Now it was his turn to stare at her.
Azriel couldn't help but scoff at that. "Too heavy?" he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm an Illyrian warrior,” he told her drily. “I could carry a full-grown male into battle if I had to,and I have dragged full-grown males off the battlefield…I can carry you.” 
Azriel couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Was she...was she seriously trying to tell him that she was too heavy for him to carry? She just so reached the middle of his chest! She definitely wasn't thin...her body was covered with soft flesh and lush curves, every inch of it soft and inviting...but even if she weighed twice her weight, he would easily be able to carry her. She would probably weigh next to nothing to him.
And yet, he could sense the insecurity in her voice, the way she didn't quite believe that he could carry her.
He stepped closer to her, placing his hand gently under her chin and tilting her head up so that she was looking directly into his eyes. "You are beautiful," he said softly, his voice full of warmth and sincerity. "And I don't care how much you weigh, I can carry you. I want to carry you. Because you are mine and I will always protect you, no matter what."
Her breath hitched at that, and he could see the warmth spreading through her cheeks as her heart began to race. She looked up at him with those stunning blue eyes of hers, her lips parted slightly in surprise and wonder. "You...you really mean that?" she whispered, her voice soft and shaky. "You...you don't mind how big I am?"
Azriel chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, sweetheart, I don't mind," he said gently. "I think you are absolutely perfect just the way you are. And if I have to carry you to prove it, then that is what I will do." And without another word, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest as easily.
She squeaked as they shot up in the sky and then she laughed, the sound bright and beautiful
They soared through the sky together, the wind blowing through their hair and clothes as they flew. The City of Starlight sprawled out beneath them, a beautiful tapestry of color and light. Azriel held her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his, the sound of her heartbeat pulsing in rhythm with his own. He knew that he could never tire of this feeling, of having her in his arms like this.
Sky looked up at him with a smile, her eyes shining with happiness and excitement. "I love this," she breathed.
How very fitting it was for the female that called herself Sky to love flying.
"Good," Azriel said softly, his voice full of warmth. "Because we can do this anytime you want, sweetheart."
They soared higher and higher, until the city below them was nothing but a sparkling sea of lights. Azriel was in his element up here, his wings powerful and graceful as they sliced through the air. He could feel the wind whipping through his hair, the cold night air stinging his skin. But he didn't mind, not with her in his arms. In fact, he felt more alive than he had in months. Years, even.
He flew a loping circle over Velaris, towards the Lake House the shadows had purchased and he thanked them mentally for their foresight. He couldn't very well bring Sky home to the House of Wind...but here...he could take her. It was private and safe...and if the expression of her face was anything to go by, she loved it.
He angled his body towards the Lake House, gliding towards it with expert precision. As they approached, Azriel saw the soft glow of the lights in the windows, the gentle sway of the curtains in the breeze. The lake glittered in the moonlight, the surface of the water undisturbed and serene. It was the perfect place to bring her, a place that he felt she would love just as much as he did.
"You live here?" she wondered, wonder in her voice as she took in the sight.
Azriel felt a warm swell of pride in his chest as he landed smoothly on the deck of the house. "Yes," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her face, watching as she marveled at the house. "I wanted a private place," he admitted. "Somewhere quiet and peaceful, where I could escape from the chaos of my life for a little while.I haven't been there long though, it’s still a work in progress…" he warned her. More like 2 hours before he had met her. "But I love it."
He set her down gently, his hands lingering on her waist for a moment before he stepped back. "Come on," he said softly, holding out his hand to her. "Let me show you inside."
The shadows skittered inside as soon as he opened the door, like a bunch of little busybodies, rightening the curtains there, fluffing pillows on the couch...It seemed to amuse Sky though. "You must ne...never have to deal with a mes...messy kitchen," she teased him
Azriel chuckled at that. "No, the shadows don't like when things are out of place,”  he admitted.
It wasn't a lie. But then he didn't like it either. 
Like a moth pulled to the flame, Sky was pulled towards his bookcases, fingertips tripping over the spines as she hungrily read the titles.
Azriel suddenly hoped that the shadows had put something other than Sellyn Drake novels in the bookcase, because otherwise he was going to look like a fucking stalker.
He watched with a mix of amusement and apprehension as she examined the bookshelves, his heart pounding in his chest. *Please,* he silently pleaded to the shadows, *please tell me you didn't leave those Sellyn Drake novels on the shelf.* Because if she saw those, it would be disastrous.
The shadows seemed weirdly frozen in place.
"You read Sel...Sellyn Drake?" Sky asked him, sounding delighted and shocked at the same time.
Azriel groaned inwardly, feeling his face flush with embarrassment. "I...yes, I do," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I...There is...I...I need to tell you something."
"Te...Tell me som...something?" Sky asked, turning towards him, these big beautiful eyes staring at him.
"I...It wasn't a coincidence that I was in that bar tonight," he told her, watching as she stared at him. "The shadows told me to go."
"The...The shad...shadows?" she asked him, looking utterly shocked.
"I...I told them...a few weeks ago...to...find me somebody that....that I could love...somebody that I could make happy. A wife," Azriel admitted. "You were the one they picked."
She stared at him, her mouth falling open slightly. Azriel braced himself for her reaction, not sure what to expect. Would she be angry? Scandalized? Horrified that he had sent his shadows to find him a wife?
She stared at him wide-eyed. "You...You as…asked yo…your sha..shadows to fi…find you a wi…wife?!" she asked him, repeating his words back at him.
He could feel his cheeks reddening but nodded nonetheless. "...are you angry?" he asked her weakly.
Sky stared at him for a moment, but then she shook her head. "No, No...no, I'm not," she repeated again, her voice trembling slightly. "I'm...I'm flat…flattered, actually...Though...though I am cu..curious what it…what it was about me that...made…made them pick me," she admitted.
For the first time in his life, his shadows talked to somebody other than Azriel. *We thought you would treat Master like you treat your cat,* the shadows told her brightly.
She blinked at the bunch of shadows that had gathered in front of her.
"You...You...You want me to...treat Az..Azriel like...like a cat?" she asked them incrediously.
Azriel spluttered, his cheeks burning with mortification. He hadn't expected the shadows to be so blunt, and the idea of her treating him like a cat was...well, it was absurd, to say the least. He wanted her to be his mate, his equal, not to treat him as if he were some kind of pet.
"No, no," he quickly interjected, trying to salvage the situation. "They...they don't mean it like that, Sky. The shadows have their own...unique way of looking at things. Please just...just forget they ever said that."
Sky fixed him with a look. "What do you mean?" she asked the shadows.
*You love your cat,* the shadows said quickly. *You buy him ridiculous overpriced Tuna, and you let him sleep in your bed and you scratch him behind the ears. You even knitted him a sweater!*
Azriel winced, feeling his embarrassment and mortification rising even further. 
"That...thats not important," he mumbled, feeling like he was on the verge of spontaneously combusting from embarrassment. "The shadows...they have a habit of exaggerating things. Just...please, don't take them too seriously. I'm not expecting you to treat me like a cat, I swear."
Sky looked at him, then at the Shadows, then at Azriel again. She seemed to be lost in thought, clearly trying to decipher what the shadows meant.
"You..You want your mas…master to be tre…treated...well?" Sky finally asked the shadows, her tone of voice serious. "You pick…picked me because I...be..because I was nice to my cat?" she asked them curiously.
*You are so kind,* the shadows said softly. And so pretty. And we knew you would treat Master well and wouldn't judge him.*
Sky blushed at the compliment.
Azriel felt a sense of relief wash over him as the conversation shifted away from the whole "cat" thing. He had to admit, the shadows were right. Sky had been nothing but kind and considerate towards him since they met, and he was grateful for that. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed by the whole situation.
"Look...I apologize for the shadows' behavior," he said to Sky, his voice soft. "They can be a bit...blunt, sometimes."
"I…I un…understand where they are com…coming from," she said nearly thoughtfully. "They just...want to see you hap…happy?" she said carefully and he nodded.
"Yes."
"Though they…they don't seem to have much of a sense of boun…boundaries," Sky said with a laugh. "You hid in my apartment didn't you?" she asked the shadows.
Azriel cringed as the shadows seemed to twirl in agreement. He had hoped that particular detail would have gone unnoticed, but he should have known better. Sky was too observant for her own good.
"Yes, they did," he admitted reluctantly. "I'm sorry about that. They...they have a tendency to go where they please."
Sky still mustered the shadows that were twitching in front of her
"I…I prom…promise to t…treat your ma…master well." Sky said seriously. "He's my mate."
Azriel felt his heart skip a beat at her words. The sound of that word coming from her lips made his knees weak.
He stepped forward, closing the distance between them and taking her hands in his. "And I promise to treat you well too," he swore fervently. 
"And I'll…I’ll even knit him a swea…sweater," Sky continued, looking at the shadows.. "I…I don't know if he likes Tu…tuna, but I'll…buy him some… sweets."
He couldn’t help but laugh at her words, feeling a surge of affection for her that was almost overwhelming. "Sky," he said softly, looking into her eyes. "You don't have to do any of that for me. Just being with you is more than I could ever ask for.But...if you are willing to knit me a sweater, I surely won't say no to it," he added with a laugh. "And maybe you could try scratching me behind the ears too, just in case the shadows are right."
He meant it as a joke, but there was a part of him that was secretly delighted by the idea of her spoiling and doting on him. Maybe, just maybe, the shadows were onto something after all.
"And...who knows, maybe I'll develop a taste for Tuna," he added, grinning playfully. "As long as it's the fancy kind, that is."
He kissed her forehead gently, holding her close for a moment longer before finally pulling away. "But Sky…you don’t have to do all of that…Just being with you is enough."
She smiled up at him, beautiful and blinding and he couldn't help but kiss her.
As his lips met hers, Azriel felt a wave of warmth and tenderness wash over him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he deepened the kiss. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the shadows, not the world outside, nothing but her.
He broke the kiss reluctantly, resting his forehead against hers as he caught his breath. 
"You…You can absolutely sleep in my bed with me," she whispered. "Or I'll sleep in yours," she offered, a grin on her face... and that was all he needed to hear, as he picked her up again.
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flameblade3 · 2 days ago
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I looked through the gateway home, a one way trip back to the life I fought so hard to return to. The demon even told me it could roll back the clock, should I choose, make it be like none of this ever happened, like I only left for a minute. I looked back at the motley crew that had accompanied me all this way. The people who talked so much about saving this world from some vile demon king. But, here he was, giving me all I wanted with no strings attached.
“I can tell you the truth of this world, should you wish to hear it. It may help in your decision.” The demon spoke once more.
Our wizard shouted in return “silence, cur! We shall not listen to another word you have to say! You shall fall here and now”
I was the fighter, the protector, the shield. Without me they were nearly defenseless. I stepped forward, and gestured for the demon to proceed. With a wave of his hand, he summoned a barrier between me and my party, sealing off all sound as well. He began to explain:
“This world is vile in nature. Powerful mages spirit away people from their lives and bring them here to serve arbitrary roles in a never ending story. People brought here gradually lose their memories of home along with their desire to return, but you were different. Your love for your wife and children kept your memories safe. I am one of the few remaining entities with the ability to free people from this world, return them home like nothing happened, that is why you were sent to destroy me. I have no desire to destroy this world, only to free the people taken here against their will. So allow me to free you, please.” The demon bowed and gestured to the gateway.
I looked back, my party furiously attacking, banging, screaming at the barrier the demon put between us. I felt nothing but apathy for them. I just wanted to go home. But… something tugged at my heart. There were others, many others, taken from their lives just like I was. I knew I wanted to help in any way I could, so long as I could still see my wife and kids again.
“Is there any way I can return here?” I asked
“I’m sorry?” The demon king was taken aback, “why would you want to return to this place?”
“You said there were others. If I can, I want to help free them as well, and maybe strike down these mages that have been spiriting good people away from their lives” I gripped my blade with new vigor, a desire to protect people I truly would care about burned within me.
“I understand, and am deeply moved.” The demon created a ball of light and guided it towards me. “That amulet will glow should I need your assistance. Hold it tightly in front of you and a gateway back here will open. For now, I bid you farewell, good knight. Return to your family, I will deal with your party.”
“Thank you…” was all I could muster. I took off my armor, piece by piece. Dropped my sword and shield at my feet and stepped over them, clutching the amulet tight. I stepped through the gate, the last thing I saw on that side was lesser demons taking my gear elsewhere, and was met with the smiling faces of my family.
You've been summoned to another world, "destined" to save it. Except you're a mom/dad who just wants to get home. At the end, the BBEG offers to send you home. No tricks those really are your kids. Now everyone is saying your selfish for wanting to leave. Except you're not selfish. They are.
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basicallyjeankirschtein · 3 days ago
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Left On Read - Yuta x Reader SMAU
chap 9: but yuta. masterlist
yns pov
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for some reason, yuta blocking you hurt a million times worse than when you found out your best friends were shit talking you behind your back. why did he even block you? did you do something? or were you just that unlovable.
you knew your whole life you were never the first choice. your parents? they adored your straight A’s, well kept sibling. your sibling was always the center of attention and over years of sobbing over not being the perfect child for your parents like your sibling was, you stopped caring. your friends? well, that was pretty obvious. none of them ever invited you on their own accord. the only one of the three who was even willing to hang out one on one was nobara, and that was only when shopping was involved. you never said anything, never complained. maybe because deep down, you knew you were nothing to them, and you were okay with that. as long as people pretended to like you, you were happy.
but yuta, for the first time in your life was there somebody that didn’t pretend. he actually liked you, for you. it was strange. it was an addicting feeling.
but yuta, he was so welcoming. you were willing to be addicted. joining the groupchat made you feel like something, like someone. like finally people treated you like an equal. miwa was sweet, her boyfriend was a bit weird but friendly and welcoming. todo surely gave you a unique first impression, treating you like you were not just the first choice, but the only choice. noritoshi didn’t speak much, but he was funny and sweet to you. and of course, panda and toge helped you make these amazing friends, introducing and welcoming you.
but yuta, none of these amazing qualities and friendly personalities that made you feel so good about yourself, never once could they amount or compare to how he made you feel.
but yuta, losing him felt like you were losing apart of yourself. you didn’t want to be the second choice again. you acted like it didn’t bother you, but subconsciously, deep down, it really did. you always knew. you always wanted to cry and scream and break something, beg anyone to let you be important to them.
but yuta, he didn’t make you beg. he made you feel important the moment he direct messaged you that day. that day, you felt like something. you felt like finally, in this minuscule life you’ve been living, your life was important. you were important.
but yuta, hes left you.
you guess this was just some ironic prank played by the gods to ruin your life. you really were unlovable. that’s just the way you were made. you knew that, yet you still let yourself get hung up over some boy you barely knew.
-
ughhhhh this chapter hurt me i’m gonna play overwatch now and then yell at my computer and blame the tank for throwing the match when in fact i will be the one throwing
@shokosbunny @kalulakunundrum @tenthmilo @maddietries @genxnarumi @reiluvr @love-me-satoru @crystal-freak24 @gigiiiiislife @justmare @noomimi @thirtykiwis @luvsymai @nymphsdomain @jellyfishlord123 @blueballslock @frootloopscos @starsryi
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rose-petles · 2 days ago
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Pls can you make a pt 2 to the 니키 - ruined make-out sessions -> N.NK fic where niki is teased by the members
니키 - ruined make-out sessions -> N.NK [ P.2 ]
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Warning → none!
Paring → Clingybf!Niki x SoftieGfFem!Reader
Synopsis → Its been two months since he has kissed your lips.
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He whined as you dragged him into the bathroom to get ready, already craving your kisses again. “But I miss you I wanna spend time with my love.. can I not..?”
You sighed, “We are already going out with your bandmates, lets go love..”
Niki sighed and followed you as you dragged him out of the room to the lounge area.
After jake had left the room a smirk spread across his face as he watched you kiss, his mind already running through all the teasing he was going to give Niki later.
When Niki arrived to meet his friends at the restaurant a little while later, he was instantly met with raised eyebrows and knowing smirks. Sunghoon leaned back in his chair, looking at Niki with mock seriousness.
“Well, well, look who finally decided to show up,” Sunghoon said, tapping his fingers. “Must’ve been a really good excuse for being late.”
Heeseung chuckled. “Did you have something better to do than hang out with us, Niki?”
Niki shifted, immediately suspicious. “What’s with the attitude?” he asked, trying to sound casual. But the red tint that rose to his cheeks betrayed him.
Jake finally let out a loud laugh, clapping Niki on the shoulder. “broo. Saw you and Y/n having a very romantic moment.”
Niki’s face turned even redder, and he groaned, dropping his head. “Jake, why didn’t you just walk away quietly?” he muttered, eyes closed in embarrassment.
Sunoo leaned over the table, clasping his hands dramatically. “A kiss, really? On the bed? How cliché,” he teased, earning a laugh from everyone.
Jungwon laughed, pointing a finger at Niki. “Our little Niki is growing up so fast! Who knew he’d be the romantic type?”
Even Jay joined in, winking. “Next thing you know, he’ll be planning a candlelit dinner.”
Niki buried his face in his hands, his muffled voice reaching them. “You guys are the worst. Seriously.”
Heeseung gave Niki a light shove, grinning. “Don’t worry, we’re just happy for you, man.”
Despite the teasing, they all flashed him supportive smiles, and Niki couldn’t help but laugh with them, knowing he’d never hear the end of this.
But when he looked back at his friends, their laughter mingling in the air, he knew it didn’t matter.
At the end of the day, he had you—and they’d always be there to remind him of that in the most embarrassing ways possible.
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Back to -> | Navagation | Masterlist
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Copyright © 2024 rose-petle/Rostle. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.
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iannmin · 2 days ago
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HEAD OVER HEELS | p.sh 박성화
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pairings + warnings: heels!obssessed!hwa x fem!reader, creampie, breeding kink (literally breeding everywhere >_<), just pure smut so mdni! 18+, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (?)
synopsis: “get hot on ya heels”
a/n: just got some inspiration looking at some of the reblogs from my previous works on hwa and one of them said that hwa may have a kink of loving to their s/o in heels, so credits to whoever who said that i love you
you owned a lot of heels, but “a lot” would definitely be an understatement. the heels came in tens, even dozens - from the classic YSL’s to the fancy Dolce & Gabbana’s, but regardless the type, it all boiled down to a single reason: park seonghwa.
hwa would always buy you heels everytime he goes out for shopping with his bandmates. his poor and innocent friends thought that it was “nothing more than an act of love” but oh,, you knew for sure that it wasn’t. it was simple, really, he loved how you looked in them when you two were having a lil baby making session <3. so when he hastily kicked off his shoes and fumbled his way over to the bedroom at one in the morning where you were just about to tuck yourself to bed,, you weren’t surprise at all.
“jagiya, look hehe” he shook the huge shopping bag, smug look smeared all over his face. “let’s do it now” don’t get mistaken,, hwa had his priorities set straight so he didn’t care one bit when he carelessly tore the luxurious Louis Vuitton wrapping in half like a spoilt child. you barely uttered a reply but he was already holding both of your ankles, slipping on the wine red heels on your feet. it took a few moments for hwa to soak in the sight - you in his plain white tee with your lace panties coupled with the pair of high heels….god,, and when it finally came to him, hwa could only mumble “f-fuck…s’pretty….gonna ruin you princess” before instantly reaching for the buckles on his belt.
jeans and belt pooling around his knees with his veiny cock slapping against his abdomen, he set you up in a mating press, hooking both of your legs over his shoulder. gently kissing each side of your ankles, he aligned his girthy tip against your hole.
“hah…fuck…wanna breed you so bad…you’ll be such a pretty mommy f’me” *schlop!* in an instant, his hips slammed tightly against yours and his girthy base came into contact with your folds. that’s it. seven-inch all in at once. this was the feeling you’d never seemed to get used to no matter how many times the both of you did it, so it got you instantly gripping on hwa’s shoulder blades. “nnnggh….hwa…feels s’full…s’good...” tears were threatening to spill from your eyes, so he reached in for a sloppy kiss, a string of saliva connecting from both of your coated lips.
but,, of course you were wrong to think that it was the end because hwa was pussy-drunk. extremely drunk with the thought of you. all he desired was to pound that tight pussy loose and watch it seep with his cum. so he did exactly that. with sweaty bangs sticking to his forehead, he buried his head into your neck, deep groans casting vibrations against your skin. with every hard thrust, your nails dug deeper into his shoulders, whimpers turning a pitch higher. "h-hwa...gonna cum..."
"hold on for me princess, i wanna try something.." hwa instantly flipped you on your stomach - ass up, face down in a doggy-style position, and when he entered your sensitive hole again to continue his pounding ordeal, you swear you felt his cock reach in about an inch deeper. oh boy,, you were going to lose your mind very soon.
it took the both of you no more than half a minute to reach your highs and when it did, it felt straight out of a porn scene. with hwa's groans turned into nothing but an endless chant of curses and high-pitched whimpers, and your moans turned into broken sobs, he pressed his hip as deep as it could have gone against yours, releasing loads and loads of hot white cum, filling you up full. and when hwa finally pulled out, his cum was everywhere - seeping out of your hole, dripping down your thighs and heels, coating your wine-red heels in a layer of translucent fluid. he hate to admit it but the sight of you nearly got him hard again.
"fuck...princess, i love you so much, could do this everyday"
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all-purpose-dish-soap · 1 day ago
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62 / 3.4k / final part of shark mermen Gaz and Soap with human!reader
kinktober keywords: dubcon, anal, double penetration, monster mermen, monsterfucking, teratophilia, hypnosis/hypnokink, praise
nsfw ⬇
Soap has his filthy way with you, pushing into you with the longest, most agonizingly slow strokes you can imagine. You swear you nearly peak every time he bottoms out. And he might as well be edging you every time he pulls drags himself back. You can't pretend like you don't want every second of it, though--your  walls grip him fervently.
Soap slowly loses himself to his instincts. He ruts into you harder and faster--just like you're crying out for him to do, you register dimly--until he snarls and pulls out. You whine in protest until something warm and wet spurts across your back, and you sigh contentedly in the knowledge that you brought him satisfaction.
Just as you're catching your breath, though, he chuckles and repositions himself so his second cock is pressing up against your swollen core. "Don't know about you, hen, but I've got plenty more time and energy to spend."
"Ah--!" you gasp out as he pushes the second, still-throbbing head into you. You don't think you're capable of going any longer. But even as you collapse with your forearms against the gravel, hands balled into fists, you'd like nothing more than for him to keep using you. You're painfully aware this time that you're having that thought and enjoying this little game all on your own. No hypnotic suggestion necessary. Maybe Gaz did ease you into it, but you knew what would happen to you if you let them keep touching you. You knew, and you let it happen.
He keeps pounding, huge hands groping up and down your form. Just as he seems ease up into something resembling a caress, he clamps one hand around the back of your neck, slides his other hand to your ass, and squeezes with a throaty laugh.
You feel his fingertip prodding at your asshole. "Hey!" you squeak, trying to wiggle forward.
It only makes Soap chuckle. "Hey?"
"You're not supposed to touch that!"
"Really now."
"Aye," you tell him, mimicking his accent.
Soap's hips snap in an especially rough thrust.
"Ah!"
"You sure you want to sass me right now?"
You huff as he continues rubbing little circles around the tighter hole. "Just... watch it."
Soap laughs and eases the very tip of his claw into the rim. His hips don't slow down either, fucking another harsh breath out of you. "Or what?"
You swallow, gripping the gravel under your palms. "I don't think I can hold any more," you plead.
Gaz doesn't say anything, but his expression shifts with interest. Soap pauses for a moment. Gaz speaks first. "But you'll try, won't you?"
You feel dizzy again. His voice drifts into parts of your brain you never thought possible. You love it and you hate it. Soap uses his grip on your neck to angle your upper body up and your hips down. At that angle, his tip grinds even harder into your most sensitive inner cluster of nerves.
You cry out, bucking your hips back into the finger pressing into your ass. "Yes!"
Soap smirks. "There's a good human."
You pant, trying to ease your legs further apart. But grinding any lower into the gravel hurts your knees, and Soap's hand on your neck keeps you from bending forward and slumping to the ground.
The pace of his strokes slows as he works his finger in a little more. It's already slippery with your own arousal, Soap’s spit, and Gaz's spend covering the crux of your thighs. You’re a mess. Even so, you're wary of his claw--it's meant to rip flesh--but as long as he’s controlling himself, it's fairly blunt. You hate how easily you take in his thumb up to the first knuckle despite its size. Gaz watches with a look on his face that only makes you feel more lightheaded.
Soon enough, Soap's thumb is sheathed inside you to the proverbial hilt. He releases his hold on your neck and uses your ass to maneuver you instead.
He stares down at both your openings with a crooked smirk. "Damn near perfect sex toy, isn't she?" he says idly. "Two holes lined right up."
"Fuck you," you groan out, rutting backward against him. Your body is on fire despite the cool ocean mist falling over you and the wind pushing down along the cliffsides around you. You're so close.
Soap chuckles. "You wanna get rough, hen?"
"Nnh..."
Gaz takes hold of your chin and turns your gaze toward him. "Be honest. You get what you ask for when you don’t use your words."
His face is close. You feel yours heat up.
Behind you, Soap groans. "Clenching on me," he mutters. His pace slows before your tightness can overwhelm him further. He slides his thumb back and forth.
You blink up at Gaz with hazy eyes. "I want to cum," you tell him.
"Yeah?" His thumb strokes your chin. "You seemed so hesitant not long ago. What changed?"
"I... You..."
"Mmhm?" Gaz's thumb brushes your lower lip. "You’re communicating so well. Don't stop now."
"You tricked me. You lied."
"Did I? What did I lie about?"
"You hypnotized me," you gasp out. Your voice shakes as Soap punches in and out of you. "And then you said-- ah-- you said I wanted it anyway."
"Hypnosis isn't magic. I put a few suggestions into your head. You reacted on your own."
You try to bite back a cry of pleasure. It comes out a sob. Soap pushes himself to go faster again, finally, feeling you tighten up as you near your limit.
"You-- you made me-- turned me into--" Your voice breaks as the tension inside you snaps. You clamp down hard on Soap’s thumb and his cock. Your body rolls uncontrollably. Milking him. It feels so good, so full, you could cry.
"Good job," Gaz coos. "You feel a little better when you stop thinking too hard, don't you?"
You sag, panting, and half-collapse into his lap.
Gaz catches you easily before you can slump to the ground. "That's right," he murmurs, letting you rest your head against his chest.
Soap pounds you a few more times and lets out a long, hissing groan as he finishes. He grips your hips and pumps you up and down his shaft to finish himself off. Then, finally, he leans forward, hands on either side of you, and sighs in satisfaction. His teeth graze your shoulder like he wants to sink them in opposite where Gaz’s bite mars you, but the only marks his mouth leaves are warm, wet kisses. As much as lathes of his tongue can be called kisses.
They let you rest for a blessed moment. Then Gaz's hands wrap around your middle and ease you into his lap, chest to chest.
As he does, Soap slides out of your guts. You hiccup, feeling Gaz's two cocks--both hard again, fuck--lean up against your stomach. You press your palms to his chest. Your forehead, too. You don't dare meet his eyes for fear he'll remold your will again.
Gaz's chest rumbles with a laugh. It's a low sound with an undertone like a growl. "You're tired, aren't you?"
"Yeah. Obviously."
He strokes over your hair and down your spine. "And still running your mouth."
"Hmph."
It makes him chuckle. "Don't be stubborn about it," he murmurs. "I'm not done with you yet."
"But I..." You trail off as he lifts you into the air and positions you over both erections. You stare down at them, biting your bottom lip. Your brain is so sluggish after that climax. You feel like a toy and you still don't think you hate it as much as you should.
"You can take it," he murmurs, guiding your hands to rest on his shoulders. "You'll take it just fine, yeah?"
He lowers you until you feel his tip nudge against your core. You shift instinctively to put your legs forward and rest your feet on either side of him.
"Good," he says. "Now, nice and slow."
He eases you down onto one shaft with slow, firm movement until he bottoms out.
"Ah..." Your legs twitch and you lean back, feeling that incredible stretch again. His other cock rests against your stomach, your clit, stimulating you even more with little grinding jolts.
"How's that feel?" he murmurs, taking a moment to steady you.
You stare at him with half-lidded eyes and a slack mouth. You hardly register he's speaking to you, much less that he's expecting a response.
Gaz chuckles and rolls his hips up. "Still running that mouth?" He murmurs with a touch of amusement. "Or have I finally shut it?"
"M-More, please," you manage.
He groans and grinds up into you. "Good answer."
He slides you back up, his flared tip stretching your entrance again almost to the point of popping out. Then he lets you sink all the way down again.
Up, down. You let your hands rest on his, wrapped securely around your waist, as he handles you like a doll. You let your head loll back again, exposing the column of your throat. You've been bit and tossed around and come on and in and fucked every which way already. What's one more bite? One more round?
His shaft pushes up against the front of your tight walls. You let out a drunken sigh, almost a laugh. You're ruined for human men. You're sure of it.
Every noise that leaves your mouth is like honey. Gaz's lips find your neck as his tongue traces over the mark Soap left. You left him have his way with you, and he wants to make it worth your while. He's more indulgent, more curious than Soap is. He notices when your moans quiet and you roll your hips as if seeking satisfaction just beyond your reach. "What's wrong?"
"Ugh." You scowl when he slows. You're still tight as hell, especially with how swollen your climax made you, but there's something you want more of. You reach down and begin to play with yourself, sighing at the feeling, but it doesn't help you the way you want.
His eyes lock onto the way you rub yourself. Very interesting. "Need something?"
"Could you, um... could you, like. Well." You look to the side. "Could you put it in my ass again?"
"That's a bold request. You liked Soap's finger, then."
You shrug.
Gaz chuckles and leans closer. "You're a mess," he murmurs.
You bite your lip as he eases you up and off his cock. Then he rests it--the same one, slick and dark--against your ass. Soap's hands come to his aid and spread you out from behind. You squeak in surprise.
Soap's voice is behind you. "Dirty girl. What would your kind think of you now?"
You don't dignify that jab with an answer.
Instead, you focus on steadying your breath and relaxing your body as Soap drags his fingers down through your slit to collect a sheen of slick. He slides one finger into your ass. Then two. Then scissors them, loosening you up.
You rock your hips back in little motions that drive him deeper. It sends pleasurable waves shooting down your whole body. You need more. "Oh, that feels good."
"Yeah?" Soap murmurs. "You want a little bit more?"
"Mmm!"
Soap hums. "What was that? I didn't hear you."
"Yes!" You buck your hips harder. "Please!"
Soap laughs. He replaces his prodding fingers with Gaz's tip once again. You close your eyes as his tip opens you up. There's a pinch as he eases up into the tight muscle right at your opening. Suddenly he feels way, way bigger. Keeping careful hold on you, Gaz eases you down a fraction of an inch at a time. You both know this hole isn't as forgiving. But God, does the squeeze feel good.
He sees your brows knit and pauses before he lowers you further. "Does this hurt?"
"I can take it."
"I know you can. I'm asking if it hurts."
"I said I can take it," you mutter. "I'm in control of my own actions. You said so. I want it all the way in."
"And I'm taking my time to make sure I don't hurt you. You're lucky I'm in a generous mood."
He lowers you a little more. Your core twitches around nothing. "Ah... It hurts a little, but it feels good."
"You can take more, huh?" he murmurs. "You're strong stuff, yeah?"
"Nnh... yeah..."
The way he presses into you stretches your sensitive spot from the back. Your core drools. A needy, wanton sound escapes your throat, and your hands latch onto his shoulders again. "Right there. Fuck."
He likes hearing you let yourself go. He likes that it's for him. "Yeah? That feels good?"
He lifts you up again and slides you back down carefully. His second cock catches on your core, the head grinding past your sensitive nub before it glides past and bounces to your stomach again.
Your back arches in his hands. You need more.
Gaz eyes you arching and squirming in his hold. It’s really something. "You're eager. Need satisfaction that bad?"
You nod frantically. Your hand shoots back down to your clit. You roll and rub frantically for more stimulation. You don't notice the way he watches you do it, even when you try to slide your fingers into your slit. Your clumsy fingertips slip around your drooling hole, but you can't reach that spot inside you he's stretching. It feels so good, radiating all the way to your toes. It would feel so much better if you could just…
There's a strangled noise from behind you. Soap watches you intently.
Gaz smirks at him. "You like the show?"
"Aye."
Gaz laughs. Your desperation is interesting all on its own. Maybe he should've teased you a little more instead of selfishly getting himself off first. Maybe he still could--
That thought comes to a screeching halt when your fingers ghost over his cock, the one still pressed lazily against your stomach. He growls but doesn't slow his pace. "Watch it," he warns.
Driven to desperation, you take it again in your hand again and guide it toward your pussy. You need it in you. You need everything he has to offer.
Soap watches with wide eyes. "Oh, she's playing dirty, isn't she?"
Gaz’s cock slides away from your too-tight hole again and grinds up your slit and against your nub instead. It feels good, but still, you groan in frustration as he sinks your ass all the way down onto his other cock. Then back up. You try again. "Just let me--"
"You're too damned impatient."
Soap chuckles. "I don't know, I kind of like it. Slip it in, human, see if it really pisses him off."
"No," Gaz retorts. "You're gonna hurt yourself like that. Stop it."
"Just the tip," you plead.
Gaz grits his teeth. You're really going to be his undoing, aren't you?
"Soap," he barks, "hold her."
Soap immediately does as instructed. He grabs your waist. He's much less gentle than Gaz, who releases your upper half to Soap's control. Gas stays in you, but grabs your hips to angle your legs open and up. He glares at you. Then he prods at your core with his thumb, smearing the slick dripping out of you all over your entrance. Then he thumps it with his other tip. Your breath hitches. You buck your hips up impatiently. The motion pushes only the very tip inside. Gaz knew it would happen, but still. His chest catches with a rough, strained sound. "Stop moving before you make me hurt you."
You bite your lip. "You can hurt me a little."
His eyes darken. He pulls your hips forward just enough to stretch you all the way around his tip. Fine. If you want to make things harder on yourself, he'll play along.
You suck in a breath. That's a lot of dick. Maybe too much dick. But hell, if you're already ruined for men your own species, you might as well go all the way. You gaze down at his shaft disappearing into you with a vacant smile on your lips. You really are the perfect sex toy for this. Both holes are positioned perfectly to take him.
Your expression and your words only stoke the fire in Gaz’s gut. There's a very specific feeling he has to tamp down when he sees what he does to you. A sense of primal, territorial satisfaction. He wants to devour you whole. The temptation is unspeakable.
He does his best to calm his nerves before he speaks, but his voice is tight. "Doing alright, love?"
"Better than alright," you purr. His member is pushing up against your sensitive spot, just like you wanted. Every subtle shift sends pleasure throbbing up your walls. You pulse and tighten up as if to pull him deeper in.
"That's good," Gaz breathes. "Just the tip."
You sigh happily as he pumps his hips into you just enough to keep fucking your ass. But he doesn't get any deeper into your core. You frown, trying to prop yourself up with your elbows against Soap's chest to see get a better view of where you're joined. Soap easily pulls you back against him. He cups one of his big hands around your breasts and starts squeezing and toying with it crudely. You huff and roll your hips.
Gaz hardly notices you squirming. You feel too good trying to take him in. You're close to doing it, too. The way your walls are tightening and pulsating around him. He narrows his eyes at your blissed out expression. "You're... are you close? From just this?"
You nod.
Soap laughs. "You made her too greedy."
Gaz pushes into you a little harder, letting himself slip further into both holes. You moan like the stretch is the best thing you've ever felt. It's so slow. Exquisite. The rub of him inside you lights your nerve endings up like nothing else. The pace he sets has you seeing stars.
By the time he seats himself all the way inside you--to the hilt of both members--you're cumming with a weak keen, arching up between him and Soap, just as the sun is beginning to slip below the horizon.
That primal satisfaction radiates from his chest to the end of his tail in heavy, powerful waves. You've taken him so well. He reaches out and tugs your chin up to admire your expression.
"There you go," he murmurs. "You did good. Just like I asked."
You can hardly keep your eyes open. But his voice makes you feel warm despite the air blowing cold across your damp body. "Mm?"
Your awareness is fuzzy as Gaz keeps fucking you to completion and fills you up. At some point, you must fall asleep, because the next thing you know, you're cradled against a warm, broad chest and shuffled into the water. You loop your arms around his neck, eyes still closed, and hold on. But instead of taking you underwater again, he keeps to the surface.
Sometime later, you're stumbling back into your own bed, salt in your hair and your body exhausted beyond imagining. The next morning, when you wake up, you stare at the ceiling for 45 minutes, wondering if it all could've possibly happened. You vaguely remember the day before, but the memory feels far off and dreamlike. Until you take a shower and notice the myriad of bites on your shoulders and thighs and lips. You're bruised up pretty badly, actually.
You try to return to your normal life, but what you did itches at the back of your mind. Sometimes you still hear Gaz’s voice, his suggestions buried deep in your subconscious like a venomous barb. You don't sleep well. Your dreams leave you panting and sweating and no matter how much you try to take care of your constant sexual cravings by yourself, they never quite go away.
Not until you return to the docks one night.
You aren't sure what compels you to return. A memory. A compulsion. A siren’s call. But your feet steer you there without a thought, and the moment you step on the docks, two mermen are already there, waiting.
...
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / [part 5]
more Gaz / more Soap / more mer au / masterlist
thanks y'all! o(* ̄▽ ̄*)o
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raysrambles · 3 days ago
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on the day the election results got announced, one of my friends wasn't at school. she was the friend that I had the most classes with, and I remember as the hours ticked by the painful knowledge that she wasn't sick, not physically, but that she just couldn't bear to be there that day.
i overheard classmates talking. "how are you?" asked one; in a broken voice, another: "I don't know".
"I'm scared," was the most common sentence I heard that day. "i can't live like this," said someone in the hallway; "we've still got each other," said another in what I desperately wanted to believe was hope.
"I prayed last night for the first time since I was five," said a friend of a friend; I looked out the classroom window at the cloudy sky and wondered if there was a god, and if he had heard them.
I watched people break down crying in the middle of class. by the end of the day, several kids had left school early.
"I need to get out of here," I said to my friends at lunch. "we're not going to make it another four years," said one of them grimly. how dystopian, how orwellian was it that a group of seventeen year olds were so casually discussing their escape from the country they had grown up in, the country that had raised them only to throw them to the dirt before they were even able to vote?
after school i drove to another school for a debate tournament. one of the judges who I hadn't seen in a year and with whom I'd only had one or two conversations came up to me and asked "how are you doing?"
"could be better," I admitted, "but I'm surviving." that was a bit of an understatement; there were tears in my eyes even as I spoke.
"I'm here," she told me, this woman who I hardly knew, and I realized that she was asking because she remembered one of our only interactions, a year ago, where I had casually mentioned being trans--
--and her gaze flitted down to my shoes, where back then I had had beads in the colors of the trans flag, beads that weren't there anymore, not because of any change in myself but that of the world around me.
"I'm here," she said again, and we stared at each other for a few seconds. I managed a "thanks", not trusting myself to say anything else.
that night I went onto Instagram. someone I hadn't spoken to since we fell out over a year ago had texted me a simple "I love you and am with you" type of message. all of my friends and even people I hardly knew were posting about the election, and I remembered
back when Biden was elected, the Republicans I saw online reacted with hatred, disgust, doubt for his abilities
but now all I saw from the ones who had lost this battle was fear
when the other side lost, they had the privilege of hatred
now that we've lost, all we can do is fear.
terrified sixteen, seventeen, eighteen year olds, in flurries of messages to long-gone friends and frantic posts. I had never felt more united, and yet I could not relish in our closeness because I knew it was not the closeness of friends but the closeness of soldiers too young for war, huddling close as their imminent death rained down from the sky, searching for some last comfort at the end of their too-short stories.
"I won't pretend this isn't as bad as it is," I typed out, "honestly I'm freaking scared. But we owe it to ourselves not to let this be the end of our beliefs.
"We still know we're right, even if the government doesn't agree. We're still all in this together.
"Love to everyone who's affected by this. I'm right here with you. Stay safe everyone."
I posted the Instagram story, praying to a god I didn't know that the words were true.
the next night when the house and senate election results came in, I cried, and it was not pretty crying, it was a child wracked with sobs in the dark on the floor of their room because they were only seventeen and terrified for their future.
I spent a long time writing that night, something I do to process my thoughts when everything is too much. I will simply offer this passage, which I think speaks for itself.
"Shall I tell them I am afraid because of the election? Shall I tell them that all day I have felt like a child masquerading as a man, scared of the boogeyman as i am scared of the fascist-like creature whose grasp is tightening and whose claws never cease, closing in on lives like a predator its prey? That I am a child scared of insignificance, of a fate I did not choose, of becoming a meaningless name among many, not of democracy falling but of not being the one who felled it?"
So to everyone celebrating the election, I'm glad that you're happy, truly I am. But I ask you to think of me and my friends, still children, most of us not quite old enough to even have our say in this country, as you laugh and rejoice and mock all of us who you defeated.
How many times must we cry, must we fall, must we watch each other die before enough will be enough?
Will it ever be enough?
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anpanman95 · 13 hours ago
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now that I got he appreciation post out of the way I’ll yap about what I loved the most about this whole scene because was a fucking masterpiece.
1. He looks fucked out and I’m going insane. His heavy breathing was blasting through my headphones and, although that is something that usually annoys me during these scenes, it was done carefully and tastefully. It felt natural and real, not overplayed, not overkilled, but raw and perfectly genuine.
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2. Anyone else devastated by the absolute adorableness of this moment? Just me? This was such a cute short thing that casts light into their relationship. They’re both actually very carefree people, always have been, even if Jack had a hard time coming back to his true self. This moment felt so intimate and relaxed. From trying to make the other submit, playfully and sensually, they both pause here and quickly take a breather to gauge each other and decide how is this going to happen before Jack takes the lead again. These are truly Jack and Joke.
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3. Wall slamming. It’s one of the cliches I absolutely devour. Ever since episode 1 I knew they would be the kind to do this. I knew their NC would be like this. They want each other too much, they’re gonna take and take and take.
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4. No awkward stripping. Just desperate. The moment characters strip have always felt so unnatural for me. This was done hastily and they stumble and it doesn’t look pretty because it shouldn’t. They have wanted each other for too long for them to wait another second in getting themselves naked. Joke is so desperate he struggles with taking Jack’s shirt off and he doesn’t care nor slows down. It adds on the realness of it all.
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5. More wall slamming. Dear god I’m unwell. No further words.
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6. He was stupid hot for this. They are possessed. As they should be. There’s tenderness and roughness at the same time in their movements and touches, casting light on the fact they love each other but are desperately hungry for each other’s body. They never let you forget that, not once.
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7. Did you hear my screams? I was not expecting that. What I’ve seen happen many times on BL NC scenes, is that there is a high contrast done in between the couple when it comes to portraying desire. Usually it’s only one of them that is more vocal or physical about it, while the other takes it and follows. Yin and War have mentioned they don’t want their characters to stick to one dynamic, and it shows a lot in this whole scene. They both are perfectly capable of taking the lead, they both want to take the lead, they both want to submit. They are equals. And that’s always gonna be that way.
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The power play, the switching, the rolling in the sheets, the CONSENT, the loving looks, the gentle touches, the rough touches, the pauses, the desperation, the desire.
they did it all. not one single thing missing.
they deserve nothing less than a standing ovation.
yinwar, you did it again
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