#it’s such a good series!!! so so good!!!

[rosegolden13]

TF-141 reacts to… your pregnancy pillow!!! (Ranked best to worst)

Gaz is the most mature about it. He’ll do anything to keep you happy and comfortable while you’re carrying his little one, even if that means he can’t hold you at night. He doesn’t take it personally and will even go with you to help you pick it out or research the best options online.

Price tolerates it. He makes a few grumbly comments (“are my arms not enough for you?”, “can’t even hold my wife?”, “‘m bein’ replaced by a bloody pillow”, “jus’ marry the pillow, why don’t ya?”) but quickly stops after he realizes how much more soundly you sleep with it. Your comfort is his top priority, even if he’s a little peeved that he can’t be the one to provide you that comfort. But the day you come home with the little one? You bet that pillow is stuffed deep in the attic, only to come out once you’re pregnant again.

Simon doesn’t outright protest the pillow *but* he doesn’t just sit by and let it happen either. The first night you use it, he waits til you’re asleep and then carefully disentangles the pillow from you to slide himself in its place. He physically can’t sleep without touching you in some way, knowing you’re safe beside him, so even when you scold him in frustration the next day, the pillow ends up on the floor night after night, either that or he’s reaching around it to hold onto any part of you.

Soap is undoubtedly the worst. He’s whining at the mere idea of the thing when you first bring it up. Clingy as he is, any separation from you is hell to him. He’s fully and unashamedly beefing with your pregnancy pillow. He will 1000% hide the damn thing (especially because you look so cute waddling around and looking for it). Eventually, he’ll take mercy on you, agreeing to let you have your pillow with a promise that you not get too attached to it because he’s throwing it out as soon as you come home with the baby.

I couldn't get this silliness out of my head... THE VOICES!!! This is super inspired by @quarterlifekitty series which is so good- go check her out rn rn rn.

[dilf-docs]

So Is it Your Place Or Mine?

bfd!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: summer is over, but your affair with joel isn't (or, you grind on joel's belt buckle while sarah is at soccer practice)

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., exhibition kink (sarah is again a victim of this), brat taming (this two are soo into it), degradation kink, praise kink, lwk breeding kink, daddy kink (wow! it's a whole library of alexandria of kinks in here), fingering, dad bod!joel (best joel you mean), angst (oh guys look oh no it's alr starting), dirty talk!!!!! (they're so dirty ew i want it too wait who said that)

word count: 3,701 words

side note: and it became officially a series. hope u all are into this as much as i am because it's my first series ever !!!!! ALSO angst finally makes it way in this mess LET'S GO (i'mcrying i really looked up big texas belt to come up with a mental image in the middle of class, i'm so sorry to whoever sat behind me but idc abt me writing smut while at uni; we die like real men)

part: prev | masterlist | next

"What do you mean you're not coming?"

It's been an unspoken rule that, even if you hate sports and the ball stays ten meters away from you, you always come to Sarah's soccer practice, cheering for her from your usual spot at the benches.

Except today, you aren't there. And now Sarah is calling you when she shouldn't, but that she doesn't know.

"I can't. I have stuff to work on stuff"

Bullshit.

Your laptop and the half-written essay sit untouched at the coffee table. The thing being touched in question, is something entirely different.

"Need help?"

His hands grip any free spot of your glistening skin, sucking on the rosy pink until it turns maroon red.

"I'm at my dorm, sorry"

Double bullshit.

Sarah doesn't even know your car is parked next to her dad's truck. She has about four hours to find out.

"I can drop by later then" she suggests.

His hot breath tingles against your neck as his nose caresses the spot. Bad girl, he mouths, like he wasn't the one who told you to pick up, despite his daughter's name on the caller's ID. You try to reach for a kiss, but his digits press on your hair, pulling you back with violence to forbid your lips from touching his. Bad girl, and your arousal drips with more intensity at the remark. Bad girl.

"No!" the answer comes quick, your voice strained, and Sarah jokes that you should take it easy with your classes, instead of suspecting anything else.

"Fine! I won't go if you don't want me to, but if you show up dead by stress, I'll be free of guilt"

He kisses the outline of your jaw with sloppy movements, like he just wants to busy himself while Sarah blabbers about the practice, and you keep trying to make her stop, but she tells you not to worry, that she's on a break right now, and the task to avoid whimpering at his rough kisses across your neck becomes increasingly difficult. A gasp escapes your lips when his teeth sink into your flesh. Mine, not to be said but to be felt. Seen by the rest. A pretty red that tastes like the blood he craves, the hunger akin to violence. Bad girl, and he's biting your lip to stop any other filthy noises from escaping. What if she hears?

"Are you okay?" concern laced on Sarah's tone. Guilt creeps through the cracks of the worn-out paint of his bedroom, one your friend had practically begged him to restore; the joke of it all was that was about his job yet he couldn't fix his own goddamn house. "Y/n, did you hurt yourself?"

I'm treating you well, ain't I, doll? and then he'd grin against the crook of your neck before looking at you, his dark blown-wide pupils gazing at you with a hunger you didn't think it was possible. They'd burn, and the fire didn't scare you: it was the warm your cold body needed. Tell Sarah her daddy ain't hurting her slut of a friend.

"I-I'm fine" you manage to choke out. Good girl.

Joel's lids feel heavy as a crown. But you like 'em rough, don't 'cha, baby?

"Should I worry?"

Joel pulls harder, your scalp burning at the harsh tug. Answer when I ask. You breathe in heavily, and Sarah keeps on asking you if you're okay, threatening to burst through a dorm door she'll find empty.

"N-no" you meekly answer, and he laughs at your demeanor. Under his weight, pinned down on the mattress, there's nowhere to run to.

"Is it okay if I-"

"Sarah I need to hang, okay? My head hurts. Bye" it all comes down in a rush, the words a vomit of excuses. You make sure the call has ended, and so does Joel, that in an act of mercy, has stopped. You both look the screen until the lockscreen is back up again, a picture of you and Sarah. Despite used to having his weight on top of you, your throat feels constricted.

"Do you want to traumatize your daughter, Mr. Miller?"

He's back at his task of kissing, making you moan and writhe at the sensitivity of your kissed and bit skin during the last hour. You hate how he takes his time―edging you; unbearable.

"What I want is you"

The lie comes out effortlessly from his teeth. He wants you, needs you, but does he really want you? His daughter's best friend, the college girl he was going to lecture just last summer―to live life and forget about him, yet couldn't. He lies to himself, saying he didn't because you felt asleep, but feeling a warm body next to him, being your beautiful frame of all people, made it hard.

The way he makes a moaning mess out of you, how he knows every spot of your body no one had been able to please before, how your cunt stretches perfectly around his cock, how you call his name like no one else had done. It belongs to you now, and this is a vice.

It's like he's got a wound, and you're the only balm that can soothe the pain. But the effect is temporary, and after you leave, he always finds himself wanting more.

The doubt on his eyes has your heart beating out of fear.

"Then have me, Mr. Miller" you dare.

When Joel smiles, barely noticeable, something flutters in your stomach.

"Al'ight, impatient one. We have sum hours until Sarah's back. Spread" his hand nudges your thighs apart, and you oblige, making Joel chuckle at your obedience. "Good girl, baby. S'good f'r me"

You let out a gentle moan at the praise, and he smirks at your reaction.

"Feelin' desperate, are we?" he taunts, seeing your pretty lips parted and face flushed, a whine escaping them.

"Shut the fuck up and just kiss me already" you beg, pussy throbbing painfully.

"Damn brat" he hisses, "ain't you such'a needy greedy slut?" his finger hooks on your panties, tugging you closer into him, your body rising to clash against his softer frame that has nothing to do with his rough demeanor. You can feel the bulge that has formed through his pants, making you moan in delight.

"Sorry, daddy. I'll be a good girl" you squirm under his weight, pouting lips and batting eyelashes. "Please, kiss me. Pretty please, daddy"

"Jus' cus you asked well" but he knows it's an excuse to capture your sweet lips until he's tasted all of you. You once heard old men kiss like they want to devour every inch of your mouth, to make space for their tongue like it's going to live in there, and they were right.

He pulls away from the kiss to pull out his shirt, revealing his soft body. Your hands itch, immediatly reaching for it with wandering fingers. He chuckles at the eagerness, but then he catches the subtle adoration in your eyes, and his breath hitches, heart stopping.

"What's wrong?" you look up, and it's gone. Maybe he imagined it.

Joel doesn't know why he feels dissapointed by it.

He tries to push the thoughts back, head diving down between your breasts, leaving sloppy kisses and messy trails of saliva with his tongue on each one. He gives a special lick to your hardened nipples, making you squirm.

"Gonna bend y'r fuckin' sexy little body on this sheets. Gonna make you cum all'over, until y'r scent is'mpregnated on 'em"

You groan at his words, fingers pulling down the pajama shorts you brought over, revealing your pretty black laced lingerine.

"Fuck, baby. You wore 'em for me?" he's asking, and you'd be crazy if you think the tone reveals devotion. Is Joel even capable of warmth?

He leaves a new trail of kisses, this time, running from your neck to your stomach.

"Gonna make you scream my name 'til that's the only thin' you know how to say" his hot breath tingles over your abdomen. He buries his face in there, the mustache and scruffy graying hair tickling the skin. "Gon' give you such'a load, this flat stomach of yours will be bustin' with my seed"

You whine at his filthy words, mouth agape slightly. He looks at your soaked panties, arousal on clear display now. Joel's cock twitches in the confines of his jeans.

He lets out a low growl. "Look at you, such'a slut for me. Drippin' wet like a fuckin' whore and desperate, when I ain't even touch you"

To prove so, Joel teasingly runs his fingers along your inner thigh, dangerously close to your soaking core.

He pulls your underwear down, taking them off.

"M'gonna fuck you real good, baby" his fingers dig on your thighs for support, the burning sensation of his calloused digits on your soft skin delicious. "Gon' take care of what's mine"

Mine.

The words ring loud and clear. The only other noise to be heard is his lips leaving wet sounds against your thighs. Does Joel even realize what he said? Or was it in the heat of the moment?

No, wait. Stop. Why do you care?

He begins to rub circles in your clit, coating his fingers in your dripping arousal, prodding the tense needy hole, making you moan in desperation.

"Please, daddy" your lips cry as you beg for him to do anything to remove the pain in between your legs.

"Please, what?" Joel teases, voice raspy. He keeps prodding your center, his digits in and out in a gentle manner, contrasting his hard hold on your thigh. You squirm and whine at the sensation, but maybe it's the dark on his eyes that's really responsable for making you shrink under his gaze. "Think 'm doin' this for ya'? To please ya'? No, baby" he tuts, "you were a bad girl. Almost got caught"

"If you didn't make me answer" you seethe, a moan almost escaping your lips when his fingers hit that sweet spot of yours. "Maybe if you didn't, she wouldn't-"

Joel removed his fingers from you, and you reduce to a moaning mess, begging for the release you were chasing and now it's lost.

"But you wanted'er to know, didn't ya'?" he unbuckles his belt and fumbles with his worn-out jeans, revealing a barely concealed neediness on his side. "Wanted'er to know where 'er slut of a friend was: at daddy's house, beggin' for his dick like a cockhungry slut"

"I-I want it. Want you dick" you barely choke out, lips parted at the sight of his pulsating dick's silhouette under his brief.

"Then take it, hungry one"

His tip buries deeply into your cunt before you even speak again, sliding inside in one swift motion. You gasp, as he fills you up completely, because despite the way your cunt stretches for him, or the way you have had his dick and need it, his girth never fails to amaze you.

"D-daddy" you moan, walls stretching to accommodate his size. Your sweet arousal drips down your thighs, coating Joel's balls. Fuck, doesn't he love to see you squirming under him. He's never had a woman like you before, wrapped around his finger. You may be a girl, but God, you feel so much better around his dick than anyone else: your cunt tenses around his cock deliciously, his dick twitching when he takes a look at your legs shaking and fucked out state.

"That's it, pretty girl. Beg for'it"

His words go straight to your core as you moan. "Please. Let me take all of you, Joel, please"

You said his name. Fuck. He shouldn't be this aroused, but the way you say it like that's the only thing you know, like it means something more, it makes his dick throb and heart sting. That he, Joel Miller, old bitter man, single dad, could mean more to a young pretty girl like you.

"Fuck" he grunts, grabbing a handful of your hair as he begins to pull out slowly, plunging inside of you with harsh movements. The sound of skin clapping is obscene as he begins to fuck you mercilessly. "Ain't you a noisy lil' thing, huh? You like that, baby? You like it rough?"

Your voice comes out shaky. "Y-yes, daddy. F-fuck, just like that. I like it a l-lot"

"Good girl" he grins satisfied with your respone, his thrusts getting rougher and messier. "Lookin' s'pretty with my dick's inside of you"

Joel changes angles without telling you, brushing your g-spot. A noise so loud and vulgar comes out of your parted lips, and you feel ashamed.

But then he's brushing a strand of hair from your face, with a delicacy you've seen reserved for his daughter only. It feels weird, and you try that it doesn't distract you from your looming orgasm.

"Joel..." you breath out his name.

"Yes?" with everything coming out of his mouth: possesiveness, neediness, pleasure. Like he'd give you the world if you just ask, despite telling himself he wouldn't.

"K-keep going"

Your gaze bores into his eyes with an intensity that almost makes him stop. Because the words are simple, but Joel's been alive enough on this Earth to know it doesn't mean just that.

Keep going. Don't stop. Don't end this. Don't let me go.

"Whatever m'princess asks if she asks 'em nice"

You scream in pleasure as his thrusts become deeper, his balls slapping against your cunt, as your slick begins to run down your thighs. Joel thinks he's going crazy at the way your folds take him, how tight you feel, and the loud noises you make, begging him to fuck you harder, to use you. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge, writhing under his touch as you begin to see stars.

"You close, aren't ya'?" he laughs, but it's devoid of mockery. A subtle softness hides behind them. Ask nicely, and I shall give. "Gon' cream 'round my dick like a good girl, right?"

His digits dig in the flesh of your hips, guiding himself to fuck you harder, for you to take him better, caging your body under the sheets, pushing you even closer to your orgasm. You mewl loudly, tears in the corner of your eyes at the delicious burn.

If you told yourself a year ago you'd be crying over Joel Miller's dick, of all people, you'd probably laugh. But no college boys had been able to please you, less bring you to tears as you reach your orgasm. This is heaven, and you aren't ready to say goodbye to the paradise you found in summer just yet.

Your core tenses around him, body so close to finishing, hair a mess, eyes brimming with tears, and lips spilling the filthiest sounds ever heard to humankind. It's heaven, and Joel isn't ready to give it up just yet. Your pussy throbs, and as your juices mix as one, you roll your eyes and head back, your high approaching, knot in your stomach tightening faster. Before you can register, your mind goes blank and you're seeing stars.

You come around his cock, coating it in your arousal as Joel admires how you cream his member, tight walls almost pushing him out of you. He groans at your simmering cries, some tears coming out of your eyes.

"What'e fuckin' slut, baby. You sure are somethin' else" he chuckles, his thrusts messier by his own high approaching. "Wait for me, yeah, baby?"

You humm, as he buries deep into you, filling you up completely, as his hips stop their harsh movements when he feels the tension in his abdomen release.

"Fuckin' sweet" he uses a finger to clean some of the slick that's run down your leg. "Good girl"

He licks them off in an obscene display, making sure to never break contact.

"If you keep doing that, I'm gonna become a real bad girl" you taunt.

Then he pulls out of you carefully, doing his best not to spill too much of his load from your cunt. He grabs one of the corners of his sheets, cleaning some of his seed from your thighs. Joel should be careful, but all his foggy mind can muster is you being his in every way he can. Making you his. Mine. Mine. Mine. You plead him not to do that, but he argues laundry day is soon and he likes it better when it smells like you anyway. You confess with a cute light blush in your cheeks that you do the same when he comes over to fuck you in your dorm, sleeping better when the covers smell like him. He shouldn't feel like this: like it could be. But he allows himself to, even for an instant.

"Oh, yeah?" he pants, "what you gon' do?"

Your eyes travel to his jeans and untied buckle he hadn't wasted time taking off, rather just pulling them down.

"I have something in mind..." you wander off, remembering filthy thoughts of your first night together, how you briefly thought about it. "I-" you cut off, blushing furiously.

"Yes?" he holds your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him as his rough fingers press on the skin. "Remember what I told ya', baby? To ask nicely? 'Cause you said you'd be a good girl, so be one and tell daddy what'd ya' want"

You gulp, trying to hold his gaze. You never back down. You never back down. But the intensity of the shinning copper makes that insufferable character of yours to be tamed, boiling against the surface but just scratching, all screams lost. Is like he knows this power over you, acting on it with a benevolence so sick, it has you thinking loving Joel Miller isn't impossible.

You never back down, but being with Joel feels like walking over stones, always thinking about the next step and the ones that were, ghosts of the lingering doubts and afterthoughts behind every step you take. It's like there's a river below them, washing away regret.

But you're still here: water up your knees then and now over your head.

You're barely floating. You'd be willing to drown anyway.

"I want to ride your belt buckle"

There's silence in the other side, until its met with a light chuckle.

"Yeah?" Joel keeps on laughing, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. "S'that what that filthy head of yours be thinkin' on?"

"Stop it" you groan, covering your hot face with your palms. You wish you could erase that ugly smirk off his face. "I'm never telling you anything again, ever"

"Now c'mon, baby. I was jus' messin' 'round" his tone adquires a soft edge to it, tender warm hands removing yours from your face. "Don't cover your face, baby. You're too goddam pretty" you blush, and Joel better resist the urge to kiss you just for the sake of kissing you. "I didn't mean to make fun of ya'. You know y'can tell me anythin' that's goin' inside that head of yours"

"Then you'll let me?" your pretty eyes look up to him, shinning like the stars of the summer night sky months ago.

He can't deny you anything, and a small crack of fear wounds his impenetrable heart.

"Get'ere you filthy slut"

You eagerly climb onto his lap as he sits against the beds headboard, your thighs pushing against his belly.

"Now" he tries to put in a more comfortable position, his tired joints creaking. He avoids your gaze, coughing over his blush. "You do all the job, baby. I ain't gonna help you, this greedy pussy took all of my energy"

You giggle, moving until your bare pussy clashes against the cold. A shiver runs down your spine, the dried juices moistening again over the metal piece. His hands move to your hips, hands now soft as they hold you, and he seems unsure of it, both of your breaths coming out ragged.

"You said you weren't gonna help" you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. His face feels closer, and you can see lines time has marked across his features. "But thanks, daddy"

His heart takes a dangerous leap.

"'Course, baby" he smiles. "You know I spoil ya' too damn much"

You begin to roll your hips, sliding your pussy over the cold material, your arousal making a wet slick sound that bounces off the walls, a shiver down your back as you feel your slick already coating the front of it and the top of his jeans.

"Mmm, can't say no to me, can you, baby?" you mock, rocking your hips back and forth. A shaky breath escapes your parted lips, and Joel feels his renovated dick spring hard. You moan, your ass barely touching his now tense member.

"Quit runnin' that mouth of y'rs, baby" his digits dig on your skin, "or I'll bend ya' over again"

"Sorry, daddy" you feel the metal star on the middle digging inside your pussy, the borders of the imprint brushing your leaking cunt in a pleasant way. "I promise to be good"

"Do" he grunts, "you're runnin' out of time, doll"

You close your eyes, movements more quick and erratic, little moans leaving your body as you groan.

"Tell me how this lil' experiment of yours feelin', baby"

"F-feels good, daddy. Fuck" you groan, lifting your hips a bit as you grind yourself down across the material. "So so good, daddy. Thank you, daddy"

"Mmm, that's right. Now be a good girl and come for me. Let me see that pretty face of yours when ya' come over ma' belt"

You let out a shaky breath, juices spilling over his jeans even as you see stars. He chuckles, enamoured at the sight.

"You gonna need help with that?" you point out his boner.

Oh, aren't you a doll? So kind-hearted.

"That's okay" he breathes out, tiredly. He thinks of the next trip to the bathroom, the image of what he'll fuck himself to clear now.

You smile at him, for the first time forgetting this started as a blowing-off-steam-time or transaction.

For a moment, it feels like it could be.

"Jus' seein' you cum all over me so prettily is'nough, baby"

[unfortunatelyphoenix]

Since I noticed a couple Ghost Prince Danny things I decided to make my own, even if I don't know much about the series.

Vlad being the ever stupid fruitloop he is decided to try and steal Pariah's things again and woke him up again. Wanting a rematch he immediately stormed back to Amity Park, but before he dragged it back into the Infinite Realms for round 2 he overheard Danny talking to his friends about how he got summoned by the Justice League and through some hilarious misunderstandings on their part now think that Phantom is Pariah Dark's son and in turn the Ghost Prince.

Pariah, who surprisingly is ALSO a little shit at times (and is pretty much being called a little baby ghost's dad), immediately jumps at the idea of actually doing this hilarious prank and steals the group for sometime and manage to strike a deal that as long as he doesn't do anything horrible he won't be stuffed back into his coffin and they can do the bit. This ends up leading to Pariah Dark acting like Phantom's less than good of a person dad who actually starts to reform because he's too committed to the bit. This ends up leading to him, and everyone else, discovering he has surprisingly good parental instincts, having caused everyone to stop and look at him in confusion the first few (hundred) times he instinctively did a good parent thing.

Eventually though, something happens where Danny needs help but can't go to his friends or family, he can't go to the JL for help since he doesn't trust them and he's made it instinct to never go to Vlad, so he goes to the one ghost he does trust with this, Pariah Dark. It's at this point that Pariah realizes that it's no longer a bit and that he's become the closest thing Danny has to an actual parent, because let's be honest here, even if Jack and Maddie are good here they're still severely neglective of Danny and there's only so much Jazz can do while being 2-3 years older than him, and all the other ghosts who help him are more like mentors than actual parental figures.

Usually a ghost would have their parents to teach them if they're there as well, but Danny doesn't have good human parents and he died before they did, pretty much leaving him an orphaned baby, and no Justice League, JL Dark, or GIW will stop Pariah Dark from being the parent Danny desperately needs.

[redfieldfeer]

This scene was so beautiful...

And despite all the misunderstandings regarding Ai's identity and the fact that May knew, it was quite clear how much they love each other.

(Not to mention that it was one of the most beautiful intimate scenes I've seen in a Thai GL)

🪐💋💫

[seungfl0wer]

*Daddy Chan*

Daddy Series:

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains Smut:

A/N: I could have kept going with this and yes it’s already long. But like- Chans the definition of this series ok? 😂

-💜

•He’s just in his element.

•If any of them have a daddy thing it’s 100% him.

•He treats you like a princess.

•Spoils the fuck out of you.

•Gets grumpy when you try and pay for anything because how dare you.

•He’s such a gentleman.

•You’ll never have to open your own doors.

•He enjoys taking long showers together and after

•He loves having you sit infront of him brushing your hair for you.

•Matching outfits, matching jewelry.

•He’s so easy to talk to too.

•If you’re having a bad day, you know you can just curl up with him and cry.

•He’s great at consoling you when anything happens.

•Holding you tightly to him as he reminds you about how amazing you are.

•He’s super clingy honestly.

•If you’re with him he’s always gotta be touching you in some way.

•Hand holding, Legs touching. Something.

•You keep him more grounded than you probably know.

•He finds almost anything you do super cute.

•Oh this man just gets all cheesy when you’re pouting. Finds it so fucking cute.

•Definitely doesn’t have a whole folder of songs for your birthday or anniversary.

•You’re literally like a fire to him and he’s the moth.

•It’s really hard to ever really really upset him.

•He’s pretty level headed.

•Most days if you’re being grumpy or cranky he’ll sit with you asking what’s the matter and how he can help.

•If you’re giving him attitude almost always he can make you stop with just that look.

•He has the habit of telling you way to sweetly “fix your attitude princess or I’ll have to fix it for you. Be good for daddy”

•He’s really to soft, but when he needs to be stern he does it in a way that still makes you feel so safe.

•He’s really just a safe space. You’ll never feel like your emotions are too much with him.

•He constantly will reassure you.

•He sends you such loving messages too, long paragraphs of why he loves you.

•Never not having a good morning or good night text. Even if you just got off the phone.

•It feels like taboo to him not too.

•He’s not a super jealous type, but he’s protective.

•He knows you love him so much, your eyes never leaving his.

•But how can he trust others when you’re just so cute.

•He’ll hover over you when you’re out sometimes. Like he’s waiting. Ready to attack anyone who dares upset him princess.

•Constantly hugs yous tightly burring himself into you saying “mine” cutely.

•He’s really just wrapped around your finger and he’s fine with that.

ੈ♡˳Smut Below

•He has almost 2 personality’s.

•The super sweet loving one where he wants to take it so slow.

•He’ll eat you out for hours making sure you cum before you even fuck.

•He talks so much. He talks you through it 100%.

•He makes just as much noises as you do tbh.

•He’s a missionary lover for sure.

•Always wanting to see your pretty face. Plus how else is he gonna kiss you?

•He’s just so sensual and passionate.

•Other times he- can just lose himself.

•Stressful day? He’s having you on your knees while he face fucks you.

•He’s definitely into free use with you especially waking you up with head or his dick just slowly pushing into you.

•All with complete consent. He’ll never do anything without asking you prier and establishing boundaries.

•Has a safe word and does the color system.

•He can get ahead of himself sometimes. Losing it with you.

•Pushing your face into the bed fucking you like he hates you.

•Those beautiful hands of his leaving bright red hand prints on your ass.

•Or wrapped around your neck like a choker. He also really enjoys having you suck his fingers.

•Breeding kink. Breeding kink. Breeding kink.

•He’s also somehow so good at degrading you while making it sound so- sweet?

•”My dirty little princess, you’re soaked just from kissing?”

•He has one of those machines that can fuck you while he’s not home. And of course a custom made dildo that is a mold of his cock.

•Loves FaceTiming you while on tour guiding you through your orgasm.

•Always teases you and doesn’t let you cum at first. Not until you’re begging well enough.

•This man is also team remote vibe.

•He just thinks it’s so damn adorable watching you squirm while you’re out.

•He’s not much better though. He can’t keep his hands to himself.

•Could be having dinner out and he’s gonna be knuckles deep into your sopping hole till he can’t handle it.

•100%. Fucks you infront of mirrors. Not only so you can watch how well he fucks you.

•But so he can tell you things like “look how beautiful you are when you’re cumming around my cock”

•Like I said he’s definitely a talker so something’s he says are:

•”Daddy’s gonna fill you so full princess. I’m gonna fuck you till I know you’re pregnant.”

•”Don’t you run from me, I’m not done with you yet”

•”God it’s like you were made to take my cock princess.”

•”Daddy loves you, love you so fucking much.”

•And one of his favorites “you say you can’t take it anymore but you’re pretty hole is telling me she wants more”

•King of aftercare.

•On days he goes a little harder he’s making sure you know he loves you.

•He has you wrapped in his arms while he talks to you.

•Likes to sing to you to calm you down from intense orgasms.

•Warm baths with candles, and snacks.

•Kinda like Minho he puts one of his hoodies in the dryer for you.

•Making sure it smells like him before he wraps you in the warmth.

•You’re basically trapped for a while because he just wants to hold you.

•He really loves you and he wants to make sure you always know that.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget @0omillo0 @jellymochii @stilltrynafuckingtumble @catlove83 @delulkpopstan143 @hyunjins-orange-slice-too

[elssero]

pros and cons of my faves being your roommate!

includes- bakugo, kirishima, denki, sero, shinso, izuku, shigaraki and monoma ! (college au makes most sense)

-inspired by @tokeposts post about shinso being a bad roommate ily toke.

bakugo is very clean, he tidies up after himself very well, as in you’ll hardly find even a trace of him living in your shared areas. he’s also an amazing cook, and while he won’t make meals specifically for you in the beginning, if he has leftovers i’d imagine he may leave tupperware with the note ‘leftovers, help yourself.’

however, i think he’s loud. and in the most inconvenient times. its 8am and he’s blasting music while he works out and ur suffering from a horribleee hangover, he does not care.

i would imagine it takes him awhile to open up to you, but when he eventually does he would much rather cook or go to the gym with you compared to watching a movie on the couch. overall a 8/10 roommate because i cannot forgive the early morning wake ups.

kirishima is an absolute sweetheart, introduces himself straight away and attempts to spend time with you immediately. he’s a great conversationalist and i think he would be amazing at making you feel safe and comfortable.

however, i think he’s clumsy. like your replacing your plates once a month type clumsy. he doesn’t mean it! and he always (tries) to clean up after himself! maybe it’s also that he doesn’t quite know his own strength, shattering glass that takes 20 minutes to clean up with just his grip.

he opens up immediately though, offers to walk you to class (even when he doesn’t have one himself sometimes, but you don’t need to know that.) i think he would also introduce you to his friends too, but he always asks very politely before he invited anyone over!

denki is a horrible roommate. he’s messy and forgetful and he can’t cook and god forbid you ask him to do some laundry for you, he’s completely and utterly hopeless.

it’s a shame that he’s so funny. like an absolute joy to be around. he’s interested in you immediately (in more ways than one) and he takes every opportunity to be around you. hes also super good at finding cheep local places for food and drinks etc, always begging to take you to this new restaurant he’s been dying to try.

‘hey so i burnt our dinner, how about i order us takeout and we watch a movie instead?’ -and so becomes your little thursday night tradition of trying all the takeout places that’ll deliver to your place and watching cringy movies to go along with it. it’s adorable really. he SHOULD be like a 2/10 but he’s so charming it makes it hard.

sero is the chillest guy ever, i believe he was brung up with proper manners and he knows how to take care of himself, it’s a very favour for favour situation. he cooks and you do dishes, you do laundry and he takes out the trash, it’s very domestic from the get go.

however, i think he has a problem with just inviting people over. getting home from a longgg lecture and suddenly there’s three boys in your house that you’ve never met and your subjected to a round of questioning when all you want to do is go to bed. sometimes it feels as though he always has company.

he’d realise pretty fast that it was irritating you though, suddenly your getting messages ‘when will you be home so i can kick denki out so we can hang out.’ it’s sweet. i believe he would be more of a series guy than the movie type. don’t you dare watch an episode without him.

shinso is respectful, he never touches any of your stuff, never gets in your way or makes you uncomfortable, you can just go about your life while having him as your roommate.

but you never see him. you hear him, sometimes at all hours of the night when he’s up finishing a project or showering at 4am when you have a lecture at 8. i think he’s also a procrastinator, you ask him to take out the trash at 7.30 before you leave and you get back at 3 and the trash still isn’t taken out.

sometimes you wake up to a delivery from your favorite breakfast spot on the counter though, so that makes up for it.

izuku is so kind, while he’s a little hopeless at first, he’s very eager to learn. you do have to teach him how to do the laundry and how to use the stove, but he gets it after a few tries. once you begin splitting up the household tasks, things get alot easier. especially when you keep finding your favourite snacks in the fridge.

he can sometimes be overbearing, he won’t go as far as to sneak into your room to try and see what type of stuff your into but he might sneak a peak when you leave ur room.

hugeeee on studying together! brings home ur favorite coffee during finals season and you guys spend hours at the table working at your respective subjects, it’s a fun time.

shigaraki is quiet, most of the time, minus the rare scream at his pc. he doesn’t cook- and he sure as hell doesn’t clean, but he also doesn’t really make any mess, barely leaves his room and orders take out for every meal so he’s not really causing much harm.

it’s definitely you that has to make the move to get to know him. he could go months without speaking to you and everything would be fine for him, until you have enough of course.

once he realised that your okay to hang around with you guys start gaming together, he introduces you to his friends over vc and he gets teased relentlessly for taking forever to become your friend. he starts ordering take out for two.

monoma is the fucking worst, absolutely helpless, huge rich kid energy, i’d even go as far to say he genuinely offers to pay you to do his half of the household chores. if you refuse he’ll probably mope around for a few days before he begrudgingly asks you how to use the washing machine, it’s a grilling few weeks, but you guys get over it.

he’s a hugeee gossiper, knows everything about everyone, you find out things about people that you don’t even know, he can piont to have the people on your walk to campus and tell you a story about them. absolute shit stirrer.

offers to take you to this super nice restaurant free of charge… makes up for the weeks you spend literally teaching him to be an adult… no other reason… it’s literally only to make things even… definitely not a date….

[dahlibae]

FEEL MY LOVE.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

(wanda maximoff x fem!reader)

summary — Your Wanda’s first relationship since her divorce.

warning(s) — drabble: age gap, fluff, friends to lovers, kisses, smut, they’re so soft, finger sucking, cunnilingus, love confession! (18+)

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Wanda had never expected to find love again, much less with a woman. After the emotional turmoil of her divorce, she’d resigned herself to the idea that her days of romance were behind her. But then there was you—bright, kind, and effortlessly charming. You came into her life like a warm breeze, reminding her of what it felt like to laugh, to cry, to love.

At first, she was hesitant. Her feelings confused her, having never felt this way for another woman before. She wasn’t sure if it was simply the thrill of something new or something deeper. After all, you had started off as friends. Good friends. You had moved to Westview after a job relocation and your daughter had been enrolled at the same school as Wanda’s boys. They all took to each other immediately, and your daughter rushed home after school to tell you about her new friends who had invited her over to play.

But when Wanda caught herself staring at you during your shared morning coffee runs, your early morning drop offs, your shared grocery runs, smiling at the way you crinkled your nose when you laughed, she knew it was real.

She had fallen in love.

Your first kiss was in her kitchen. She’d invited you over for dinner—a recipe she nervously perfected the entire week—and as you helped her clean up, your hands brushed hers while drying a plate. The moment lingered, and before either of you knew it, you both leaned in. Her lips, soft as ever, and her breath warm against yours.

She pulled back first, her cheeks flushed.

"Too soon?" She questioned shyly, her hands trembling slightly.

“Not soon enough.” You replied, soothing the older woman’s nerve by leaning in for another kiss, dishes left in the sink as you wrapped your arms around her waist.

From that moment, the two of you were inseparable—like lovesick teenagers discovering the thrill of romance. Wanda would eagerly invite you and your daughter over for cozy family movie nights. The evenings would start with the kids taking charge of the remote, their excited voices filling the room as they insisted on watching their favourite shows. Eventually, their energy would fade, and they’d fall asleep in a blanket fortress they’d built in the living room.

With the children settled, you and Wanda would quietly retreat upstairs to enjoy movies of your own. You quickly learned that she had an undeniable love for old sitcoms, far more than their modern counterparts. She’d sit close to you on the bed, the flickering screen casting a warm glow over the room. Inevitably, her head would find its place on your shoulder, and you’d tease her about knowing every line by heart.

She’d respond with a playful elbow to your side, her laughter soft and contagious.

“You’re just mad I’m not giving you attention.” She’d tease, her voice low and affectionate as she leaned closer. Her face would hover near yours, her lips curving into a smile before she pressed a series of gentle, lingering kisses to your lips.

“You’re so beautiful.” You’d admit. Her long brunette curls falling around you as she beamed down at you. Her mouth pressed kisses all over your face, but you sought out her lips, craving the taste of her, immediately opening your mouth for the brush of her tongue. You were warm, heavy and satisfied, but as your hands roamed her body, taking in every inch of cream skin and smooth curves through her pyjamas, that warmth began burned deep within. Taking her hands in yours, you kissed across her veins; lips weaving a delicate pattern over smooth skin from wrist to the tips of fingers. Once there, you allowed your tongue to push past your lips and take her soaked digits into your mouth.

A small gasp fell from her mouth as you released her to pull her lips back on yours, “Please, Wanda.”

And with that, she fell sideways, pulling you to drape over her lean frame. The most beautiful thing in the world. Her hands—large, but steady—pressed gently against your back, anchoring you against her. The scent of her shampoo, something faintly citrus yet floral, drifted up to you, grounding you in the here and now.

Her fingers rose to brush lightly against your jawline, “What is it, baby?”

You pressed closer to her, unable to answer, as your lips fell upon hers, hands reaching for the fabric between you. She immediately understood, nodding her head quickly before unlatching her arms from around you to pull her pyjamas off. She was left clad in her panties as she helped take yours off too, desperate to pull you back over her. Her leg slipped between yours, and the friction sent sparks through you, a gasp tumbling from your lips.

She smiled against your mouth, her dark eyes glowing with something raw, unspoken, and utterly consuming.

“I’ve always wanted you like this.” She murmured, her voice barely audible.

You pulled back just enough to look at her, the light catching on the subtle curves of her face, her flushed cheeks, her slightly swollen lips. You ran your fingers through her curls, letting them tumble through your hands like silk, and whispered back, “You don’t know how long I’ve needed you.”

Her hands cradled your face now, thumbs brushing the corners of your mouth, her touch both grounding and electric.

“You have me.” She whispered, her tone leaving no room for doubt, her gaze locked on yours like an unbreakable tether.

You kissed your way down her body, her thighs spread wide, her sex swollen, wet, and glistening with desire through her damp panties. You discarded the offending fabric before slowly parting her lips, watching as she pulsed under your touch, every movement of your fingers drawing soft whimpers from her. Her moans deepened as your tongue traced a path from her entrance to the sensitive bundle of nerves at her core. You paused just long enough to let the anticipation build before settling on the side of her clit, your tongue lapping in slow, deliberate strokes. Your hands slid beneath her thighs, anchoring her as her fingers tangled in your curls, gripping tighter with every wave of pleasure that coursed through her. Her breath hitched, her body arching toward your mouth as you devoured her with unrelenting focus.

“Fuck.” You heard her gasp, unable to catch her breath, as her hips began to rock into you, close to falling over the edge. Her whines became moans, and teeth clamped down on her swollen lips, trying to keep quiet. One last flick of your tongue, and she fell over the edge, walls contracting as she rocked into your face, riding out the rest of her orgasm as you held your tongue still against her.

“Baby.” She called for you, fingers brushing yours as she led you back up her body and to her swollen lips, sharing her sweet taste. “My baby.” She whispered, eyes fluttering open, half-lidded and glazed.

You giggled at the sight of the usually reserved woman, to which she replied with a head tilt, “What?”

“Nothing,” you replied, “I just…love you.” The words left you before you could second-guess them, before you could talk yourself out of it.

Her fingers stroked against your cheek, guiding you back down to place a soft kiss to your lips, before detouring as she loudly kissed against your entire face.

You squealed rather childishly, not bothering to fight her attack, knowing you couldn’t stop her even if you tried. But for a moment, she just looked at you, her eyes searching yours, and you wondered what she saw there—if she saw the way your heart was practically beating out of your chest, the way your entire body felt like it's caught in a storm. Then, without warning, she leaned in, pressing her lips to yours in another kiss so fierce, so consuming, it left you breathless.

“I love you too.” She said, and there was no hesitation, no doubt.

Just the truth, as raw and beautiful as she was.

[acoazlove]

RAEEEE!!! AHHHHH! there is SO much i want to say but can’t think straight honestly!!!

AZRIEL BROKE UP WITH SELENE?! WHAT?! FINALLY! (whaaat? who said thaaat?) AND az finally apologised?! obviously a LOT of grovelling is going to need to happen, but he’s making progress.

THEYRE IN LOVE!! TWO IDIOTS IN LOVE AHHHHH!!! they’re too oblivious. but give it time. FRIENDS TO LOVERSS MY LOVE!!!

TENDING WOUNDS SCENE! TENDING WOUNDS SCENE! AHHHHH I LOVE TENDING WOUNDS SCENE!!! the conversation was so needed. the slow realisations from reader…

‘a good friend. That was exactly what you were trying to be—and yet, the word hurt you.’ girl-

the lingering looks… the silences… I LOVE THEM BUT THEYRE TOO SILLY!!!

‘And even though he’d done it a million times before, as Azriel tucked your hair behind your ear, something inside you cracked right open.’ WHAT?! HUH?! rae, girl… you’re playing with my heart!!!!

this was so good, rae!!! as it always is!! one of my favourite series everrrr!!! there is sooo much more i want to say but i’m having a mind blank because my reblog from earlier never posted?! i’m sad about it😞

also me after reading it.

Are We Still Friends? — Part Four

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: You navigate the aftermath of your confrontation. Azriel takes his first steps toward making things right.

Warnings: brief mentions of injury, bruises, and physical fighting. nyx being a cute baby. some fun introspection. reader is tired and overwhelmed. az is honest and open (hallelujah)

Word Count: 7k+

Part Three

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Rhys was trying to be serious. 

He truly, truly was. 

From behind his polished desk, he looked every inch the High Lord—back straight, jaw tight, fingers drumming against the wood. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again, as though he couldn’t decide where to start.

You shifted in your seat, your body aching in strange places from the fight. The cut on your cheek throbbed and the bruising across your knuckles made every twitch of your fingers tender. But none of it compared to the strain in your cheeks—from holding back a laugh.

Feyre was perched on the arm of a chair beside you, Nyx cradled in her arms, his tiny fingers gripping the fabric of her flowy blouse. She wasn’t looking at you—refusing to, actually. Her gaze was locked firmly on her son, her lips pressed together in a trembling line, but you could see the corners twitching with suppressed amusement. You kept your gaze on her, waiting until the burn of your stare would render too hot for her to ignore. 

It didn’t take long.

Feyre’s resolve crumbled as soon as her eyes met yours. She let out a laugh—sharp and bright and loud in the too-quiet room.

Rhys’s head snapped up. “Feyre, please. Not you too.”

Not you too. Morrigan had found the situation just as amusing. 

Her laughter only grew, and Nyx joined in, making incomprehensible happy gurgles in response to his mother’s amusement. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, though she didn’t sound sorry at all. 

She passed Nyx to your open, offering arms, and crossed the room, wrapping her arms around Rhys’s neck. Her cheek brushed against his as she murmured—loud enough for you to hear, “You have to admit it’s funny.”

Rhys groaned, glancing at you. He opened his mouth, probably to protest, but you cut in, your voice laced with mock sternness as you bit back a smile. “Yeah, Rhys. You have to.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” he replied, fixing you with a look. “It is not funny.”

You gasped dramatically, adjusting Nyx in your lap and covering his tiny,pointed ears. “Don’t teach your son it’s okay to lie.”

Another groan. A hand dragged down his face, but his lips twitched as though fighting a losing battle. Finally, with a resigned shake of his head, he muttered, “Alright. Fine. It’s funny. But—

His words faltered. 

“I am sorry,” you offered, filling the silence. You raised your free hand solemnly. “I lost my cool. That’s my bad. But in my defense, she really had it coming.”

Rhys casted a look at Feyre, who was leaning against the desk now, a smile still tugging at her lips. He shook his head again, sighing. “Maybe so,” he conceded, “But I can’t have our court’s emissary beating one of our citizens in broad daylight. It’s not a great look.”

“It wasn’t broad daylight,” you corrected, your attention shifting to Nyx as you untangled your hair from his iron grip, grimacing as the motion pulled at your scalp. “The sun was setting by the time we were done.”

Feyre let out another laugh, the sound powerful enough to pull a snort from her. 

“And,” you added, “It was, at most, semi-private.”

“Unbelievable,” Rhys muttered, though there was no real heat in it.

Nyx babbled again, his chubby hand reaching for your hair once more. 

“Okay, alright,” you said, straightening in your chair. The ache in your body flared as you moved, but you ignored it, your focus on Rhys. “You’re right, Rhys. I have a title and an image to uphold. I should’ve acted better. Tell me how to fix it, and I will.”

Rhys’s gaze lingered on you, as if the longer he stared at you, the easier words would come. Then he leaned back in his chair, his attention flicking to Feyre. They were in each other’s minds, you realized, talking in that way only they could. You could pick up the signs now, even subtle—a faint twitch of her lips, the softening in his gaze, even the rhythm of their blinks syncing up. 

Finally, Rhys looked back at you, then down at Nyx, who was still babbling in your lap. When his gaze returned to yours, there was a thread of warmth beneath his voice. “You’re the most, objectively, rational of us all. If you say there was reasoning, then I believe you.”

You gave him a grateful smile.

“We just have to prepare for some damage control,” Feyre said. “It’s not exactly comforting for our citizens to see three of their highest-ranking officials fighting in the streets.”

“Three?” You frowned. “What—”

You were cut off as the door creaked open. All three of you turned as Mor stepped in, a large grin on her red painted lips. She was holding something small in her hand, and when she held it up, the light caught on the all-too-familiar jewelry.

“Don’t forget. She also found these,” Mor sang as she entered fully. She tossed two bracelets into the air, catching both effortlessly before holding them up again for emphasis. “So, I think that’s enough for a pardon.”

Rhys stood, crossing the room in a few long strides as Feyre followed. He took one of the bracelets from Mor, inspecting it carefully.

“What did you find?”

“What Y/n heard was right,” Mor said, rolling the other bracelet between her fingers. “It’s a simple listening charm. Very basic.”

Rhysand hummed. “And how does it work exactly?”

“It’s an anchored spell.”

“What does that mean?” Feyre asked, frowning. “An anchor?” 

“It means the spell needs an anchor to function—a tether to keep it active and contained. Like a balloon tied to a string.” Rhys explained, his tone turning clinical. “It’s simple magic. The charm was designed to spy on whoever it was bound to.”

“And it was bound to who? Az?”

”Actually,” Mor said. She nodded towards you. “It was bound to Y/n.”

You weren’t paying full attention, not as you played a game of tug-of-war with Nyx and a strand of your hair. When the words finally hit you, you blinked, glancing between Mor and the bracelet in her hand. “What? On me?”

Mor nodded once more as Rhysand said, “Interesting.” 

”And this was in Azriels room?” Feyre asked, looking over at you. 

“One of them,” you confirmed. “The other Selene was wearing.”

Feyre’s gaze flicked to the cut across your cheek. “So she put it in Azriel’s room, but bound it to you?”

“No one tends to go into Az’s room.” Rhys frowned. “So she was only interested in conversations you were a part of.”

Of course. A bitter laugh bubbled up, but you clenched your jaw, forcing it down. You reminded yourself of what you’d seen earlier— the insecurity, rather than the malice you’d anticipated. Still, a certain annoyance lingered. Was her relationship with Azriel so fragile that she couldn’t talk to him? Were you so unapproachable that she couldn’t come to you? Instead, she planted a charm. To spy. 

”Can I see it?” You asked. 

Mor stepped forward, holding it out, and Nyx reached for it first, his tiny fingers desperately grasping at the shiny surface.

“This isn’t for you, buddy,” Mor cooed, crouching slightly. “This is Aunt Y/n’s special bracelet from her secret admirer.”

You shot her a flat look. “Secret admirer, my ass.”

Mor grinned, but her gaze flicked over you briefly, her teasing dimmed by something else—concern, maybe. Feyre stepped forward, lifting Nyx from your lap as you examined the bracelet.

“So what do we do with it now?” You glanced up at Mor.

“I can pay Helion a visit. Break the charm.” 

“Alright,” Rhys said, the word accompanied by a considering hum. “But first, let me talk to Selene and Runa—Runa was the other one, right?”

Hearing her name sent a wave of irritation coursing through you. Your grip on the bracelet tightened instinctively as you nodded, the cool metal digging into your palm. You held it out for Mor to take, watching as she then took the second one back from Rhys. He studied you for a moment, his gaze drifting to your clenched fists.

“You’re just too great,” He said with a small grin. It was very father-like in its presentation, like he was trying to cheer up a sad child. “It’s intimidating.”

You rolled your eyes, but his attempt worked— the easy cadence chipping away at the tension in your shoulders, managing to coax a reluctant smile to your lips. “So I’ve been told.”

Your attention shifted to Feyre as she rocked Nyx gently in her arms. His soft breaths had already settled into the rhythm of sleep, and something in you softened at the sight. Your smile deepened, this time warmer, more genuine. Feyre caught your gaze, then glanced at her mate.

“It’s his bedtime,” she murmured, her attention returning to you. “And maybe you could use some rest too.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Mor cut you off, her hand already brushing against your arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said softly, though there was no room for argument in her tone.

“I’m fine,” you tried to insist, but she gave you a look, leading you out of Rhysand’s office. You gave both him and Feyre a quick goodbye. 

“Walk or winnow?” Mor asked once you were in the hall, tilting her head.

You thought it over for a brief moment. “Winnow,” you replied.

She nodded in agreement, the corners of her lips curving upwards. “Probably for the best,” she said, “Wouldn’t want you to find another citizen to fight on the way home.”

You moved to swat at her arm in mock indignation, but she was already gone, her laughter echoing faintly as she winnowed away. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Mor was humming a small tune as she led you to your bedroom. She had a few more items in her hand since the last time you saw her, only a few moments prior.

“Sit,” she instructed, nodding towards your bed. Without waiting for a response, she pulled your chair from the small desk, its legs scraping sharply against the floor. Usually, you might've winced at the sound, but tonight it barely registered. You were too tired, too lost in your own thoughts to be fully aware of your surroundings. 

You lowered yourself onto the edge of your bed, hands folded in your lap, watching as Mor set her haul on your bedside table: a first-aid healers kit and a small jar with a golden lid, the faint scent of herbs already wafting from it.

“Whats that?” you asked, motioning towards it as Mor sat down.

“I stopped by Majda’s earlier,” Mor replied, grabbing the jar and offering it to you. 

You gingerly took it, running your fingers along the small glass. A healing balm, you gathered from the label, crafted and spelled to sooth the tenderness of injuries.  “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” she replied, fixing you with a look. She held her hand out in a silent request, and you granted it, placing the jar back in her soft palm.  “I ran into Adrin while I was there, too.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. I think he has a crush.” 

Your brows furrowed. “On you?”

“No,” Mor laughed. “On you.” She twisted the lid off, the scent growing stronger, fresher. “This was practically free when I mentioned your name. He says hello, by the way.”

You rolled your eyes at the tone of her voice, at the small quirk in her lip.  “How generous of him.”

Adrin was one of Madja’s recent apprentices, a male from the Dawn Court. Over the past year, you’d developed a sort of friendship with him—inevitable, given how often you stopped by Madja’s for elixirs, balms, or to request healing for one of your family members. Adrin was sweet in a way that stood out, especially for someone of his stature and wealth. Humble, easy to talk to. You’d always enjoyed your small conversations with him, none of which had ever felt particularly flirtatious. 

But Mor liked to do this—tease you about romantic prospects where there were none.

“He seemed very sad to hear you were hurt,” she teased, dipping her fingers into the balm. “Here. Give me your hands.”

Reluctantly, you stretched out your hands, knuckles bruised and raw. She took them, her touch gentle as she worked the balm into your skin. It stung at first, then cooled, easing the ache. 

“He’s cute,” Mor said lightly, noting your silence.  “You should consider it.”

“Mhm,” you replied, not really listening. “Maybe.”

Mor glanced up at you, her hands pausing briefly before she resumed. “What are you thinking about?”

You shrugged and stared down at your hands, tracing the patterns of Mor’s thumbs as she smoothed over the worst of the bruising. “I don’t know. The whole thing, I guess.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t just beat them both.”

A small laugh slipped from you, unexpected. You were quite proud of how diplomatic you’d managed to be given the circumstances— though, you were sure diplomatic wasn’t the word Runa would use.

“I think,” you began, “I just figured it wasn’t worth it. At least with Selene, it wasn’t personal. There’s nothing I could’ve said to her that’d be worse than what I imagine she already tells herself. Runa just… said the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

Mor nodded with an amused smile, tilting your chin up with a finger so she could dab the balm along your jaw. On a hit you hadn’t even noticed until it started throbbing an hour later.

“Still. A listening charm is kind of insane,” she said. Her tone was measured, but you caught the edge of anger beneath it. “Can you imagine what else she could’ve heard?”

Your chest tightened. You nodded. Although not to the extent you might usually have, you had thought about it—the implications of the bracelet, the act Selene had committed, the idea Runa had planted. It was almost laughable. Your court was condemned for its supposed cruelty, led by a High Lord as infamous as Rhysand, yet citizens still felt emboldened enough to pull stunts like this. In any other court, Selene and Runa would’ve faced very different—more permanent—consequences.

“I don’t want to think about it too much,” you replied after a moment. “I’ll just get angry, and I’m kind of over that. It’s exhausting.”

“You’re better than me,” Mor muttered.

“Not really. I’m just tired.” You said simply. “Selene did a bad thing. She’s lucky it didn’t cause a serious disaster. I don’t feel the need to play the Mother’s role. Rhys will deal with her.”

Mor sat back, a faint grin tugging at her lips. “And in the meantime, I get pretty jewelry.”

You raised a brow. 

“What?” Her grin widened. “Like we told Rhys, it’s only a basic listening spell. If I’m in possession of both charms, and I’m not talking to you, then no one’s hearing anything.”

“And if you lose one?”

She raised an eyebrow, slowly twisting the cap back onto the jar. “I won’t,” she replied simply. And you knew that was the end of the conversation. Mor guided your head to the side, leaning in to inspect the cut across your cheek.

“That bitch got you good, though,” Mor muttered. She touched it gently, and you grimaced. “All this from that bracelet?”

“It was chunky,” you replied dryly. “And I think Runa split it open much further.”

Mor scowled. “If I see her, she's as good as d—”

“Mor.”

She sighed dramatically. “At least tell me you got her good.”

You gave her a look and her grin widened. “Gods, I love you,” she said, shaking her head. “You might be the most terrifying one of us all when you’re angry.”

A smile tugged at your lips, the faint pull of it brushing against the ache in your cheek. The sound of a laugh started to rise in your chest when a low voice cut through the moment.

“I would agree.”

You jumped, and your head snapped toward the doorway— where Azriel now stood. 

Your chest tightened at the sight of him, the moment’s levity collapsing under his presence. Instinctively, your eyes ran over him, taking in every detail. He looked tense, wings drawn in tight to his back, his posture stiff. Shadows hung close to him, unnervingly still. Disheveled, too—his hair was a mess and faint bruises bloomed along his face. His hands were hidden by his shadows, but you’d bet they bore the same marks as yours. Three officials, Feyre had said. You now knew the second. 

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

Mor snickered beside you, drawing your attention just as her brows lifted in amusement. She turned away from him and faced you instead. “You hear that, Y/n? He’s sorry.”

You raised your own brows, gaze flicking back to him. “So those words do exist in your vocabulary.”

The bite didn’t feel as satisfying as it should have. It felt hollow, old. Azriel’s jaw tightened, his chest rising as he drew in a measured breath. After a moment, he stepped forward. His gaze lingered on you for another moment before he turned to Mor.

“May we have a moment alone?”

Mor’s eyes narrowed, the sharpness in her gaze dragging over him like a knife. She didn’t answer right away, looking back to you instead, searching your face for permission. Despite yourself, you gave her a small nod.

Her displeasure showed in the faint widening of her eyes, but she stood anyway, brushing her hand against yours in passing. Her touch was soft, careful not to press too hard against the bruises. “Love you,” she murmured. “Let me know if you need anything else tonight.”

You gave her a small smile, nodding again as she walked past Azriel. His shadows recoiled from her, drawing a dark outline along his arm. She casted one last glare over her shoulder.

“Idiot,” she muttered, loud enough for both of you to hear. Then she was gone.

The silence she left behind felt suffocating, a heavy thing that settled over the room. You avoided Azriel’s gaze, focusing instead on the healer’s kit sitting on the bedside table. You reached for it, but Azriel held up a hand to stop you.

“I can do it myself,” you said. 

“I know,” Az replied softly. “But let me. Please.”

You hesitated. He looked troubled, guilt heavy in his expression, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The conversation had been inevitable, long overdue. Might as well get it over with while he tended to the cut on your cheek.

Besides, you were too exhausted to care. 

“Fine.”

Azriel gave you a small, unsure smile—grateful, almost. He disappeared to the bathroom, and when he returned, he sat with a wet rag in hand.

You tried to hold on to your anger, to avoid his eyes, but your resolve began to falter the moment his shadows began to twist around your arms. They moved languidly, curling up your wrists and brushing your fingers as you played with your hands in your lap. You focused on them instead of him— on their quiet presence, the personality in them that so few ever noticed. You’d missed the way they felt like him.

Azriel began unpacking the kit—clean cloths, antiseptic. The smell made your nose scrunch. You took in the bruising on his face—on his cheek, a split near his eyebrow, even on his lip. Strange, strategically unplaced.

“What happened to you?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

“Cassian happened.”

And there it was— the third official. You wanted to probe for more details, were even tempted to make a joke out of his current appearance, but your irritation held you back. You stayed silent as he cleaned the wound, as he dried it. When he soaked another cloth with antiseptic, he looked at you.

“I owe you a big, proper apology.” 

You didn’t look at him, even as his words pulled at you. “Yeah.”

He paused— like he was thinking, like he was ashamed— and took a deep breath before he said, “Many, actually.”

You didn’t respond. You just nodded, watching him from the corner of your eye. When the cloth touched your cheek, you winced. He grimaced, eyebrows furrowing in apology.

“Sorry,” he murmured. 

Another pause. 

“You were right,” he said, his focus staying on your cheek. “And I should have listened to you.”

This time, the pull of his voice was strong enough to draw your attention. As he leaned closer to begin cleaning the cut, you studied his face—the sharp line of his jaw, the crease in his brow as he worked with precision. 

“I’m always right,” you muttered, and the words had more mirth than you’d expected. You supposed that was natural with Azriel, an instinct of sorts. Even when you were unhappy with him. “You’re going to have to be specific.”

Something softened in his expression—just for a second. But you saw it. You could’ve sworn you saw the faintest hint of a smile tug at his lips, heard a soft breath of amusement. His molten eyes met yours briefly.

“You were right about Selene.”

Your chest tightened. You didn’t know why, but his gaze burned. You couldn’t hold it for long and looked back down at your hands, letting the shadows weave between your fingers. You wondered what information Az knew— wondered who told him. If it was Mor who had talked to Cassian, if it was Cassian who then, in turn, had given Azriel the whole story. Had they fought beforehand? What for?

“I broke up with her,” Azriel added. “When I heard about what happened.”

You looked up, but Az’s gaze was no longer on you. “You did?”

He nodded. You tracked the bob in his throat as he swallowed. 

“There’s no coming back from what she did.”

Azriel set the cloth aside, carefully wiping away the excess antiseptic. He seemed unnervingly calm for the situation—for the invasion of privacy from someone he’d been intimate with. You’d expected something more. Anger like you’d seen with Eris, confrontation like he’d shown Lucien. But, instead, he was gentle. Maybe it should’ve bothered you, that he seemed so unphased at your current state. It didn’t. If anything, you were grateful. You would’ve been too tired to deal with anything else. 

You studied him closely. This side of him—tender, unguarded—wasn’t a side he let many see.

Your thoughts wandered back to Selene. It made sense, in a pathetic, strange way, why she might have done what she did. If she’d seen this side of him, this kindness, this care... how could she not have wanted to protect it? How could she not have gone to extremes to keep it?

You thought about it for a moment. Came to the realization that the love Azriel offered was probably worthy of madness.

“Because she spied on you?” 

It was a stupid question. But the urge to ask had persisted, so you voiced it anyway. Azriel stilled, his hand pausing mid-motion. Slowly, he turned to look at you.

“No,” he said, his voice softer. “Because she hurt you.”

His words landed with a force that sent your thoughts spiraling.

“Although,” Azriel added quickly, “The spying was definitely a dealbreaker.”

He was making a joke, you realized. Or a small attempt at one. And somehow, it settled something restless in your chest.

“She didn’t mean to,” you heard yourself say before you could stop it. 

The moment the words left your mouth, you cursed yourself. What the hell were you doing? You had no obligation. No reason. It was counterproductive, if anything. Rhys was bringing her in. You had every right to trash her, right here, to Azriel himself. To tell him over and over that you told him so.

But you didn’t. Maybe it was because she’d mattered to him—enough for him to trust her despite the flaws that had undone her. Even if that truth made your chest ache, you wanted him to make his decision with all the facts.

Your care for Azriel wasn’t something led by your pride.

“Selene didn’t mean to hurt me,” you said again, more certain this time. “It was an accident.”

His eyes softened as he observed you. You swallowed and shrugged. “Runa was the one who actually did.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Azriel said. “You were in that situation because of Selene.”

A beat.

“Because of me.”

The air between you thickened. You tried to focus on anything else, anything but the way your chest tightened, the way your heart thudded faster than it should. But you couldn’t. Your eyes stayed locked with his.

You thought about the past week, how something had shifted between you. The distance that had grown, how long it had taken him to reach out.  Azriel was someone who didn’t apologize easily. You knew that. But it hurt in ways you didn’t expect because you’d always thought you were different. That your friendship, your bond, was worth the discomfort. 

You thought he’d make it right. That he wouldn't have let it fester for as long as he did, wouldn’t have felt comfortable leaving you simmering in your hurt. 

“Az?”

The name escaped your lips unguarded, and his face softened at the sound of it. His wings shifted too, just slightly, like tension bleeding out. You hadn’t said his name like that—without anger, without bitterness—for days.

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you actually apologize earlier?”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, and his gaze flicked down, as if the answer was there, somewhere in the floor. “I—I didn’t know how.”

You let out a breath—annoyance, defeat, something too messy to untangle. “It’s actually really easy,” you muttered. “You just open your mouth and say the words ‘I’m sorry for being a dick.’”

There was a soft shuffle as Azriel leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. He tilted his head, trying to meet your averted gaze.

“Y/n,” he said softly. “I’m sorry for being a dick.”

You let the words settle for a moment before sitting up straighter. Met his eyes once more. You raised a brow, unimpressed. “A bit late, don’t you think?”

Azriel didn’t move, his eyes meeting yours steadily. He was closer now—close enough that you could almost feel his presence like a tangible, heavy thing. His shadows stirred, curling around your fingers, then shifting toward his hand. They tangled between you both, like they were tying you together, threading through the space that separated you.

“It is,” Azriel said. He looked down the second his words hit the open air. It reminded you of repentance, like a sinner confessing to a priestess. His hands rubbed together before he clasped them into a fist, looking up again.

Even then, his thumbs kept moving, brushing over each other in a way that gave him away. He was nervous.

“I messed up,” he said. “I knew I did the minute I repeated what Selene told me. But I’d messed up so badly that I felt like an apology needed to be big enough to make up for it. I couldn’t think of anything.” He took a shallow breath. “I—I was embarrassed.”

You frowned.  For Azriel, who stood in front of you, unwavering in the face of so many enemies, embarrassment seemed almost foreign.

“Embarrassed?”

“Yes.” His voice was quiet as he admitted it.

“What could you possibly have to be embarrassed about?”

Azriel’s face shifted, his eyes looking almost vulnerable, wide open, like you could see everything. Even his shadows slowed to a faint crawl. They seemed to be waiting for something. You weren’t sure what.

“That you were right. I was changing. For her. And I did it on my own.”

“What?” You barely breathed out, confused. “Why?”

“I just…” He hesitated, his eyes lowering. “I thought it might be for the better. That maybe this relationship, maybe Selene, could mold me into something else, something more…” He trailed off.

“More what?”

“Something—someone, more easy to love.”

Your breath faltered, and for a second, everything froze— like the sheer sadness in his voice was enough to freeze time. And then you were flooded with emotions, each different from the one that came before. Confusion. Anger. Pity. Heartbreak. You felt a deep, hollow ache at the idea that he truly believed he needed to change to be loved. 

For the first time, you weren’t sure what the right thing to say was. If there was one at all. All you could do, in the most genuine tone you could muster, was say, “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Azriel’s gaze faltered, his expression shifting as though he wasn’t quite sure how to process your reaction. You glanced at his hands, pushing the rush of emotions back, then met his eyes again.

“You should never feel like you need to change. Not like that.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but his eyes softened, and you found yourself focusing on the crease between his brows. It made him look so tender. So young.

Finally, he spoke again. “I was having a bad day that night you came to talk to me. I didn’t realize how I’d hurt you. I thought I just pissed you off, that you were angry.”

“Well, you did piss me off,” you said, your anger bubbling up once more. His expression faltered slightly at that, but you continued, “I’m still angry. You were dismissive. You made me feel selfish, like I didn’t have the right to care about you.”

The words caught in your throat, threatening to stick, but you pushed them out. You’d spent centuries enduring criticism from males in Prythian politics—males who dismissed your input no matter how educated or experienced you were. You knew how to let their opinions roll off your back, not to let them settle. But you never thought Azriel would be the one to hurt you. Make you feel silly. Stupid. Small.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, and his eyes darted away as if he was trying to find the right words. “It was all so stupid. I can’t believe I entertained her ideas—that I let my desire to be needed make me accuse you of having ulterior motives when you were just being a good friend.”

A good friend.

That was exactly what you were trying to be—and yet, the word hurt you. It made you want to wince like you had when Azriel pressed that rag to your cut. You thought back, unwanted, to Selene’s words, and your chest tightened even more. 

Was it possible for the room to be losing air? Maybe that would explain the stupid decisions you’d been making. The thoughts you could feel in the back of your mind. A lack of oxygen to your brain.

“So why did you believe her?” you asked quietly. Your voice sounded more tired now. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted after a long pause. “It doesn’t change what I did. It was cruel. It belittled you. And I’m sorry.”

You stared at him, at the set of his shoulders, the faint downturn of his mouth. He was sincere—you could feel it in every word, in the way his eyes stayed fixed on you, like nothing else existed in the room. You didn’t think you’d ever had someone apologize like this before, so open and raw.

And yet, something inside you still simmered. The anger hadn’t disappeared. Not yet.

“Thank you,” you murmured, “For apologizing.”

Azriel didn’t move. He kept looking at you, really looking at you, and you felt pinned beneath the weight of his gaze. His eyes had more green than Cassian’s. It wasn’t something you usually noticed—how the colors shifted in the light, how clear and startling they seemed up close. Now, though, you couldn’t seem to stop noticing, like every detail of him was suddenly magnified.

You wanted to stay angry. You deserved to. He’d hurt you, and that kind of hurt didn’t just disappear because he finally decided to show up and say the right things. But then his gaze held yours a little too long, his voice a little too raw, and that tightrope you’d built for yourself began to fray.  A sharp sting of guilt came, and you couldn’t shake it—couldn’t shake the growing realization that maybe you didn’t want to be angry at him. Maybe it wasn’t even anger anymore.

You cleared your throat as Azriel shifted his attention back to the kit, his shadows curling and shifting behind him. He grabbed a few butterfly bandages, his voice quiet when he spoke.

“You’re better to me than I deserve,” he said, almost to himself. “I think I convinced myself that it was a matter of time until the ball dropped—until you realized I wasn’t worth this friendship. I thought I’d finally reached that point. I almost just laid down and accepted it.”

You frowned at his words. 

Azriel always carried that shadow of self-loathing like a second skin, like he couldn’t believe anyone could see him as more than his darkest thoughts. As much as you wanted to heal him, to assure him that none of it was true, you knew better. It hurt to know that, after everything, he still didn’t believe it. Because, the truth was, Azriel wasn’t hard to love. It wasn’t hard to support him, to be his friend. He had his moments, as anyone did, but he was always there. Which, you supposed, is why the way he treated you hurt in such a deep, unique way.

The thought that he’d believed, deep down, that your friendship—your loyalty—could be so easily withdrawn, made something inside you ache. Made you sad. Angry. 

“I take back what I said earlier,” you murmured. “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Azriel’s lips twitched as he searched your face for any hint of a joke. His shadows perched on the apex of his wings, watching you both. Then, when his lips curled, just slightly, they began to move once more. 

“I have my moments,” Azriel said, a half-smile playing at the corner of his lips. He glanced at you, checking if it landed.  “Maybe one too many head injuries is getting to me.”

“Maybe,” you said, the hint of a smile brushing your lips. “In that case, we should keep an eye on Cassian.”

Azriel’s breath escaped in a quiet, almost relieved laugh.  He carefully removed the butterfly bandages from their small packs, the silence settling around you once more. But the air felt heavy, like there was something unspoken hanging between you. Like you needed to say something to rid yourself of the pressure in your chest. 

“You can’t just lay down and accept it, Az,” you said, your voice firm. His eyes snapped to yours. “That’s not what friendship is. Not ours.”

Azriel nodded, his expression softening. “I know. I’ll do better.” 

You smiled faintly, nodding back. Watching as he turned his attention back to the bandages on your cheek, you took a slow breath. His scent washed over you as he leaned in, familiar and warm. For a moment, you almost let yourself close your eyes, just to breathe him in further, to let his scent linger. Had it always been like this? Or had Selene’s words made you overanalyze everything?

“I was shocked when Cassian told me what happened. I can’t believe that while I was busy kicking myself for not doing anything, you were trying to talk to Selene. Trying to be kind. Do you realize how crazy that is?”

His words weren’t disbelief—they were awe. As if he couldn’t comprehend why you’d chosen the harder path, the path of peace. You could barely believe it yourself, sitting with a scratched-up face and a mind full of unwanted revelations. But in the end, it had been simple. 

You’d done it for Azriel. 

You’d found sympathy for her because of Azriel. You’d set aside your anger, your pettiness, because you valued your relationship with Azriel more. Even after everything, after the way he’d treated you, you still believed in him. Believed in his ability to know what he wanted.

“Your happiness was worth it,” you said finally. “I didn’t want to be the one to stand in the way of it. To make things hard.”

Azriel stopped at that, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel exposed in a way you’d never felt before with him. You shrugged it off, trying to play it cool, and added with a dry chuckle, “Also, I figured if I did the noble thing, I’d get to hold it over you for a few centuries.”

Azriel laughed—a genuine, rumbling sound. His shadows fluttered around him. “Yeah, well, you can. More than a few centuries, actually, because you came out with some battle scars.”

You almost spoke again, but the breath left your lungs as you felt his fingers gently press the butterfly bandages to your skin. It was almost funny to think about how angry you’d been—rightfully so. But now, with the feel of his hands on you, it all began to ease. A specific sense of healing, like the betrayal you’d felt—at least in part—was being mended. That Azriel tending to you now, with the soft touch he so rarely granted, proved that he didn’t mean to hurt you. That he did care. And maybe you could give him a little grace for being a flawed male.

When Azriel turned back to the kit, you touched your cheek, feeling the cut deeper than you expected. You hadn’t realized how long it was. Mor’s earlier reaction made more sense now.

Azriel glanced at the wound, then back at you, brow furrowing. “Is it okay?”

You nodded slowly, a soft breath escaping as you winced slightly. “Yeah, just tender. Thank you.”

He nodded in acknowledgment and moved to place the last bandage. And then, almost too quietly, he murmured, “I’m sorry I hurt you. I really am.”

“I know.” You hesitated before adding, “But you’re going to have to make it up to me. You know that, right? This wasn’t enough.”

Azriel steadied his gaze on you, leaning back to face you fully. Suddenly, you weren’t sure if anyone had ever looked at you properly. Not like this. Not as he said, “I will. I promise. In ways that are better than some baked goods.”

“Well… I wouldn’t mind some croissants. They looked good.”

Azriel chuckled. “Oh really?”

Soft tendrils of his shadows weaved around you as you nodded, biting back a smile at the tone of his voice. Something so lively. So Azriel. Although you were used to them, you resisted the urge to shiver as his shadows threaded through the ends of your hair. 

“That’s odd,” he said. “I seem to recall them looking untouched. Some even squished.”

The memory of how you’d grabbed the pastry in frustration, squeezing it in your hand, brought a small smirk to your face. You shrugged a little. “I was pissed. I couldn’t give in.”

“In that case, I’ll buy out the whole bakery.”

You rolled your eyes, but the hint of a smile was still there. It was probably obvious to Azriel.  “The Spymaster supporting local businesses by single-handedly buying out a local bakery. How noble.”

He smiled at that, his expression lighter now—boyish, amused. But his words were sincere. “Whatever you need me to do. I’ll do it.”

“And if I told you to swim naked in the Sidra at night, when it’s cold and snowy?”

“I’d ask Rhysand to make an order for all the children to stay inside.”

You laughed at the thought, and the atmosphere shifted. For the first time in a while, it felt like the world had stopped turning its back on you. The anger, the grudge you’d been cradling like a newborn babe, didn’t feel so heavy now. 

Azriel stood, folding the bandages and packing away the medical supplies, and you found yourself watching him without meaning to once more. You couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly… beautiful he was. There was something in the angle of his jaw, the way the light caught his features that made your breath suddenly catch. He was always handsome, of course, but this was different. 

A sudden wave of curiosity bubbled up inside you. Before you could second-guess yourself, you spoke.  You’d never noticed the sharpness of his eyes, the intensity in them, the way his wings twitched when his shadows curled against them.

“Can I ask you something?” 

He paused, looking down at you with that soft gaze. “Always.”

“Why did you want to change into someone more loveable? Why stay with Selene?”

Azriel’s eyes flickered away, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I… I think I was jealous.”

“Jealous?”

Azriel nodded. Something sad washed through him, made him blink, made his wings fall an inch closer to the ground. “Everyone around us is finding love. They’re starting new lives.”

Something sharp jabbed at you, a bitter feeling you didn’t quite understand. Was there something wrong with you for not feeling the same need to fall in love?

“I’m not,” you said. 

The expression that took over Azriel’s face was one you couldn’t describe, but there was a new kind of weariness in it. His lips parted as though to say something else, but instead, he simply shook his head with a small, wistful smile. “It’s only a matter of time, Y/n.”

You blinked. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re you. You’re amazing. It’s only a matter of time until you fall for one of your many suitors.”

You furrowed your brow, a bitter taste now settling on your tongue. You didn’t respond— didn’t know how to.

Azriel’s eyes darkened for a brief moment, his jaw tightening, but then his face softened. He exhaled slowly. When he spoke, his voice was quieter than before. “I didn’t think I could handle being alone when you moved on, too.”

The way he said it, the weight of it, made something ache inside you, like a deep hollow was opening up in your chest. You swallowed hard, wishing for something—anything—to ease the growing pressure behind your ribcage.

You wanted him to tell you more, to say something that would make sense of all this. But you didn’t know how to ask for that, didn’t even know what you wanted him to say. 

“Because you don’t want to be the last one standing?”

The silence that followed was almost suffocating. Azriel’s shadows seemed to quiet around you both.

Then, he gave you a half-smile—sad, lopsided, but somehow more real than anything he’d shown you in a long time. Not for months. Not since he began dating Selene. 

“Something like that.”

Before you could dwell on his words, on why they made you feel sad, disappointed even, Azriel finished packing up the kit and turned toward you.

“All done,” he said.

You blinked, pulled out of your thoughts, and nodded. “Oh. Cool. Thank you.”

You looked down at your hands, your fingers brushing over the growing bruises on your knuckles. Your hair fell forward, partially hiding your face, and before you could move it out of the way, one of Azriel’s shadows darted forward, tugging at the strand. You glanced up as he gently called the shadow back with a subtle motion. 

“So... how do I look?” 

Azriel's eyes flicked over you, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he reached forward, his hand brushing that same strand of hair from your face.

“Tough,” he said, slowly moving the strand back. “I think the bandages really bring out your eyes.”

And even though he’d done it a million times before, as Azriel tucked your hair behind your ear, something inside you cracked right open.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

authors note:

tending to wounds scene!!! tending to wounds scene!! mor has both bracelets??!? az and selene are done?!?! he's being weirdly calm abt the whole thing?!?! reader is THINKINNN...

now begins the fun time of reader wanting to let az grovel (bc he has entered his groveling era) but also overthinking everything and wanting him to just....go away. also fun time of reader having to prove to everyone that despite things she may...or may not... feel, her intentions with Az were neverr driven jealousy hehe

so fun!!! i have some fun ideas guys. thank yall for reading <3 i wonder if you can guess what might happen.... there are a few hints

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@marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters @starswholistenanddreamsanswered 

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[captain-huggy-bear]

Priorities

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Illness/comfort

Summary: When Quinn gets a text from you 2 hours before his game, he shows where his priorities lie when he drops it all for you.

Series: Teacher Reader series

Notes: I am not very well atm and I had to drive home dizzy from work the other day, the idea of Quinn being there to help has been stuck in my head so have some self indulgence from me.

A kind of sequel to In Sickness and in Health but you don't need to read that to read this.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

He's already at the rink getting ready for the game in the locker room when his phone goes off. You don't actually ring him, clearly doing that thing you always do where you're trying to not bother him on a game day, instead you send a quick text message. He expects the usual:

'Good luck on the game today, baby!'

Instead, the text he gets has him picking his phone up and calling you back in an instant, worry clouding his judgement and making his hands shake slightly.

'Hey, so guess who's being sent home because she's dizzy and can't breathe? I had my head between my legs for 20 minutes, definitely can't stand and teach. Have a good game x'.

You drop the good luck at the end like he's not supposed to be worried, like you've just casually told him about the weather and not that you we're struggling to breathe.

It doesn't really matter that Tocc is giving him the look, the one he reserves for when he's annoyed at the boys, or that half the locker room have stopped their own pre-game, pre-warm up routines to watch their captain frantically call you. He's pacing back and forth, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waits for you to pick up the phone.

"Quinn?" You sound so incredibly breathless its like listening to an asthmatic 80 year old who's smoked for half their life. Except you don't smoke and you're not asthmatic or 80 which makes the whole situation about 10 times worse because you shouldn't be struggling to breathe. You should be doing better today.

You've been ill, he knows this, a chest infection he forced you to get meds for on the weekend. Meds which should have started working by now, a heavy dose of antibiotics and steroids which were supposed to have helped. You'd felt well enough this morning to go in and give work another go, but he regrets letting you do that now. Clearly trying to stand up in front of teenagers and talk was not something you should have been doing, not when the school day had only started half an hour ago and you were already being sent home.

"Baby, are okay?" You're sitting on the front steps of the school with all your things when you answer the phone to Quinn's worried voice. You keep telling yourself you just need a minute, just a minute and then you won't feel so dizzy, won't feel so breathless. Just a minute and the tingles in your fingers will go and your hands will stop shaking so much. Just a minute and then you can drive home and get into bed.

"Y-yeah, I'm...I'm just breathless. I'll be okay...they're...they're covering my...my lessons and..." You stop for a minute, taking big deep breathes, you sound so laboured on the phone that Quinn can't help but clench his phone tighter in his hand, "and I'm going home now." Your breaths are wheezy, just like Saturday, in fact he's certain you sound worse.

"How are you getting home?" He knows the answer before you say it and he hates it before he even hears it. You're dizzy and breathless and there is no way you should be driving home at all, but he knows you. Self-reliant to a fault, a martyr, always pushing yourself past the point of no return because you think you're fine, because you convince yourself you're fine. Because you don't want to inconvenience anyone or cause more problems. You ask to little of people around you, expecting barely anything despite all you give.

"I'm...I'm going to...to drive."

"No. You're not. I'm going to come get you." You want to protest a lot more than you do if you're being honest. But, you're so tired and it's so hard to breathe and students wandering in late to school are staring at you like you're having a break down. So your protests are relatively lacklustre by your usual standard. That actually worries him more.

"It's...there's like 2 hours before the game...you've...you've got warm ups soon." You hate the idea of him missing warm ups or god forbid the game, all because you were too stupid to realise you shouldn't have gone into work in the first place.

"So, I'll get you, take you home and come back to the rink and play. I'll walk to the school tomorrow and collect your car so you don't have to worry about it. But, you aren't driving, baby. If you even try to get in that car I will being fucking pissed. I love you, you do not get in that car." You know he's serious in that moment, not just because he's very rarely angry at you or anyone but himself, outside of the rink, but because he's got that clipped tone he only uses when he's serious. This isn't a request, it's a direct order and you have no intention of disobeying it, not when you know he's right...not when it makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside that he's so insistent about your wellbeing.

"But, what...what if you miss warm ups?" He loves how much you support him and his hockey, he always will, but he hates that your first thought is that hockey should come first. His girlfriend can barely breathe right now and he quite honestly doesn't give a flying fuck if he misses warm ups. The team had to pull themselves together at some point and you came first. Always. If they couldn't manage warm ups without him then what was the point of paying them so much money?

"Warm ups aren't my priority, baby. You are. Do not get in the car. Do not drive. Do not move. I'm leaving right now, okay? Just sit on the steps of the school and take deep breaths." He's already grabbing his keys, not even bothering to change out of his gear other than putting some proper shoes on so that he can actually drive. He knows it'll spark some speculation and rumours, Captain of the Canucks storming out of the arena 2 hours before puck drop in full gear except his skates, but he doesn't fucking care about that right now.

"...Okay...thank you, Quinny. I love you." You say it because in that moment you have never felt so loved, to have someone drop everything, something so important, to come get you...Maybe its the meds, maybe its the breathlessness, the infection, but you feel like crying a little because of how sweet he is even when he's bossing you about.

"I'll see you soon, baby. I love you too."

He doesn't waste time once he hangs up, just turns straight to Tocc and tells him, "I'll be back."

The look he gets is a mixture of disbelief, frustration and confusion and he really can't blame Tocc for it. Not when Quinn is the captain, the player that seems to make a massive difference on the ice, and he's about to run out the doors 2 hours before the game? Yeah, he knows Tocc doesn't want to hear it.

"Quinn, where you going? We have a game in 2 hours?!" He knows he's going to be cutting it fine with Vancouver traffic and getting to your school, the apartment and back to the arena, but he's not letting you drive. He could live with missing a game, losing a game, but he couldn't live with himself if he let you drive home and something happened. His job was to look after you, if he failed at that? What was the fucking point?

"Tocc, I'll be back. I promise. But, right now my girlfriend is unable to breathe and dizzy and I'm not letting her drive home, okay? Sooner I leave, sooner I come back."

Maybe it's the insistence on Quinn's face, the reality that if he was forced to stay he wouldn't play well anyway. Maybe it's that you and Tocc get along and he can see a hint of concern in the other man's eyes or maybe Tocc just trusts him that much. But, he actually agrees to let him go. Not that Quinn could really be forced to stay. They'd have to tie him to the bench.

"Okay, I'm trusting you."

"Thanks."

Quinn ignores every single person he storms past, every employee, every fan outside, every person with a camera that starts asking him where he's going as he starts his car with one destination in mind. Maybe he seems rude, maybe he seems standoffish, but he doesn't really care because right now you are sat on the steps of a school struggling to breathe and he just wants to see you and get you home and into bed.

He doesn't even care that he knows Tocc is going to be questioned about his absence or that he can already hear his phone pinging with notifications from social media, most likely people asking where he was going and speculating.

'Just saw Quinn Hughes storm out of Rogers Arena in full gear, finally got fed up of his team?'

'Um, is anyone else panicking that Hughes just left the arena like 2 hours before puck drop?'

'Captain Lexapro has officially lost it with this team, just stormed out of the arena!!'

He tries his best not to break any traffic laws getting to you, despite the fact he has a lead foot that wants to press harder on the accelerator. But, he knows you'd hate it and you'd worry more about him getting a ticket, so he just grips the steering wheel tighter until he's turning into the school car park.

He doesn't try to park in a proper space, just pulls up as close to you as possible before hopping out. Your head is between your legs, shoulders rising and falling in laboured breaths and he feels like he's been punched in the stomach at how bad you sound.

"Oh, baby..." He's kneeling on the dirty ground within seconds and you try, through broken gasps to tell him he'll get his hockey socks dirty, but he doesn't listen to you, just reaches to pull you into a hug.

"Let's get you home, okay? Tomorrow we're going back to the doctors, okay?" You're leaning your head into his shoulder so heavily that he's worried you might actually pass out. It's like the moment his arms wrap around you, you just give up on holding yourself up. In truth, that's kind of what happens. You just want to lean into him, soak up the comfort of your boyfriend lighting petting your hair and whispering into your ear.

"Don't y-you have...practice?"

"I think I can fit the doctors in around practice, baby..." He doesn't tell you, but he'd forgo practice for you. He doesn't care about anything but how you're doing and you're not okay. Quinn can see that better than anyone.

"Alright, up you get..." He stands first, hands reaching for yours to help pull you to your feet. You sway before him like you're on a 16th century galleon in a thunderstorm, forehead plonking on his chest heavily, "Atta, girl. There we go." He just strokes your hair and back while you wait for the dizziness to pass, he knows each second will make him later to the arena but he's not going to rush you when you're struggling just to stand without fainting.

"Alright, let me get your stuff and then we'll take it one step at a time, baby, okay?"

"O..okay...one step...at a time." He tries his best not to let go of you completely as he bundles your work bag onto his shoulder. Quinn is as quick as he can be with it, before pulling you under his arm and helping you inch step by step towards the car.

It's slow going, every few steps you get a little dizzy and he waits for you to nod before he pushes you forward again. You're drained, dark circles under your eyes and skin losing some of its usual colour by the time you reach the car.

Quinn had purposefully pulled up the car with the passenger side facing you and you're thankful not to have to walk around the car as you brace yourself against the door for a moment. Quinn helps ease you into the seat, reaching over to put your seatbelt on for you and adjust the headrest so you can lean back. It eases some of the weight in your chest.

"Nearly home, okay, baby?"

You just nod, exhausted as his hands cup your cheeks tenderly, spreading a soft sort of affection through your already aching chest. He's so gentle as he looks down at you, fingers rubbing circles in your cheeks, but he looks so worried and you feel so guilty because he shouldn't have to be that worried.

"You've been so brave, baby, you're so brave...soon you'll be in bed and you can watch the game and sleep, okay?" He knows you'll want to watch the game if you're sat at home, mostly because you watch every game he plays even if its on catch up, but also because he knows it'll reassure you that he made it back in time.

You nod again, blinking up at him so tired that he can't help but frown.

"Atta, girl. My brave girl." The kiss Quinn presses to your forehead is short and sweet, not lingering but filling you with warmth and lightness even as he closes the door on you and gets into the driver's side.

You miss his comforting touch and as if he knows this, his hand reaches for your thigh at any given opportunity when it isn't in use to drive. The stability of it, the comfort of just having him there is so welcome and helps you to relax back into the seat as he drives.

It's just as hard work getting you into the apartment, thankful as ever that the elevator actually works, but once you're in, Quinn feels ten times lighter.

"Right, lets get you comfy, baby...you want one of my jerseys or a hoodie?"

"Jersey...the....the black one, please."

"Okay, sit down, there ya go, good girl.." He watches you the entire time from the corner of his eye, scared you'll lean too far forward from how you're hunched over on the edge of the bed. He tries to make the entire thing quick, reaching for his black jersey, the extra big one that he bought home because you liked how it dwarfed you and even dwarfed him.

"Arms up, baby..." He helps you out of your work blouse and your bra, slipping the jersey over the top quickly to avoid the shivers you start shaking with.

The worst part is getting you to your feet to get your bottoms off. Quinn helps you rise to your feet before kneeling in front of you, dragging your hands to his shoulders for support as he helps you inch out of the remainder of your work clothes. Your fingers grip his shoulders so tight that he's certain you might leave bruises but he doesn't really care, just happy to get you comfy and help you into bed.

You're bundled under as many blankets as he can find, plus the heated blanket you got at Christmas. A big jug of water beside the bed, snacks piled high because he is not having you try to go all the way to kitchen without supervision right now.

"You want the game set to go on?"

"Y...yes, please...wanna watch you play." He turns the television on, setting it to the NHL game set to go live in less than an hour now and he knows he's going to miss warm ups at this point. Tocc's probably blowing up his phone and he knows he's cutting it fine...but you look so small bundled up in bed and he actually hates the idea of leaving you alone. He hates not having his family near all the time as a general rule, but in that moment he hates it so much more. If his mum or dad had been near he could have asked Ellen or Jim to check in on you, instead you were going to be all alone and he hated it.

"I'll score for you, yeah? You can watch me score and maybe we'll win and then I'll come and make us dinner. That sound good, baby?"

"Perfect..." Quinn smooths your hair back from your face, tucking a strand behind your ear even as he uses it as an excuse to feel your temperature. Not unreasonably warm which reassures him a little that you're at least not feverish.

He just keeps sitting there next to you, stroking your hair and caressing your cheek to the point that as much as you're loathe to get him to stop and to leave, you have to remind him he can't stay here. He has a game he's already running late to.

"You...you have to go, Quinn...I'll be okay..."

"If you're not, you'll phone 911, right?" He smooths your hair back again, in truth he really doesn't want to leave you there like that. Even as you seem to be breathing a little better now you're lying down. He considers just not going, if they lose they lose...but he knows he can't. He's captain, he promised he'd be back...and you'd be unhappy with him. He might be your boyfriend but the Canucks were your team and you'd likely make him sleep on the couch for a week.

"I promise...just go win for me?"

"Okay, sweet girl." He presses a last lingering kiss to your forehead, before getting up to leave. But, he still lingers in the doorway for a moment until you push him to go.

Once he's out of the apartment he's rushing. Barely any time and honestly when he finally gets back to the arena and gets his skates on he's surprised he's just in time to go out on the ice for the anthem...cold, not warmed up in the slightest, not ready at all to play a game, but willing to.

Tocc stops him as he's passing the bench to get to the ice, "Cutting it fine, Hughes!" despite the gruff tone, Quinn can tell that Tocc is just relieved that Quinn's back in time. As are the guys who all look at him with varying shades of relief as if they'd been freaking out the entire time. Which they probably had.

"Told you I'd be back." Quinn says it with such confidence, even though inside he knows he nearly missed the entire game. To be honest if you hadn't forced him out the apartment then he'd probably have been late at best.

"How is she?" Tocc's voice is soft, concerned and Quinn appreciates it. He appreciates that as a coach Tocc doesn't just care about how much they cost or how well they play, he cares about them and their families too...and you're included in that, ring or not.

"Not good...but safe at home."

"You need practice off tomorrow?"

"Please, I need to get her to the doctors..."

"Done. Now go help us win the game." Tocc gives him a clap on the shoulder before pushing him out onto the ice and just like that Quinn slips into captain mode.

Locked in like he always is even if his legs don't feel as loose and his stick feels a little less familiar in his hands. Knowing you're home safe helps, he can put the thought of you to the back of his mind, knowing you're safe in the apartment, comfortable and surrounded by everything you need.

You find it hard to focus on the game, but force yourself to, determined to watch Quinn play and to see the goal he intends to score for you. Maybe it's silly, there's no guarantee he'll actually score, but you can tell from the moment he's on the ice that it's one of the few things on his mind. Shot after shot after shot, a determined series of attempts that remind you how important you are to him even as you lie wheezing in bed, eating as much chocolate as Quinn put out for you.

It's part way through the first period with one goal already to Vancouver thanks to Petey that the issue of Quinn's disappearance pre-game is raised.

"Quinn Hughes was nearly late to the game today, the captain missed warm ups but that's certainly not stopping him now!" Shortie's voice rings through the room, a familiar cadence that makes you feel comforted.

"No, it's not, Shortie, do we know why Hughes was late?" Dave responds and for a moment you can't quite comprehend that you've managed to cause this much of a ruckus.

"It hasn't been confirmed and you know I'm not much of a gossip..." You have a little giggle a Shortie even as you are the topic of conversation because it's not really much in the way of gossip and it's so silly.

"But?"

"Apparently he had a family emergency, his girlfriend is very unwell and he dropped everything to go get her."

"Well, that's just.."

"Romantic? Sweet?"

"I was going to say so unlike the Quinn Hughes we used to know, the one who only thought about hockey." You think back to Quinn when you first met, how everything had been hockey, hockey, hockey. You hadn't minded, your own love of the sport meant that you could handle it. But, it's true...Quinn had been rethinking his priorities ever since you started dating, where he might have prioritised hockey once, he'd started to prioritise you. You're not entirely sure at what point you became that important in his life, but it made you feel warm and fuzzy all over.

"I think it's a good thing, that's a sign of growth, just like Hughes' shot!" Shortie cuts himself off as you watch the camera pan to Quinn, following his agile movements across the ice as he skips past the other team's players as if it's as easy as breathing, "He's in past the defence, he lines up the shot and an unassisted goal for Quinn Hughes! Vancouver goal!"

You smile wide as you watch Quinn grin, celebrating with his team in a series of hugs before he finds a camera. There's a moment where you know he's grinning at you, for you, a cheeky little wink sent through the screen as if to say 'told you I'd score for you'.

"I suspect that one was for the girlfriend, Shortie."

You watch the entire game, trying not to nod off to sleep between periods. While you can't cheer and you certainly don't have the energy to celebrate too hard, every Canuck goal makes you feel lighter and brings a smile to your face.

The end result of a 5-2 win to the Canucks makes it easy for you to drift off as the game ends and the waiting for Quinn begins.

He's running off a high when the game ends, even more so when Boeser offers to take over press duties so Quinn can get back to you quickly.

The apartment is quiet when he comes in, "Baby?" not a sound comes back in response and he's careful to move quietly through the apartment to the bedroom doorway.

You're fast asleep, breathing heavy but nowhere near as bad as earlier in the day, you're surrounded by chocolate wrappers and he's quiet as he picks them all up and puts them in a bin, replacing them with the puck he scored with on your bedside table.

He tiptoes back to the kitchen quietly pottering around to make some dinner for you while you're still asleep, nothing fancy but protein, carbs and veg. The sort of thing that's definitely boring but also definitely what your body needs right now.

"Baby, time to wake up...I've made you dinner." He's gentle when he wakes you, soft fingers down your cheek as you stir awake, blinking up at him bleary eyed. Quinn helps you sit upright, the tray of food settling neatly in your lap.

"Where's...where's yours?"

"On the table, you want me to eat in here with you, sweetheart?"

He's moving before you finish nodding, grabbing another tray and his plate before joining you on the bed. He spends most of his dinner watching you eat, making sure you're not leaving large amounts and that you're okay.

He's happy about the win, happy about the score, but he's mostly just happy to be back with you and knowing that you're eating and you're okay, if not well.

Quinn's quick to tidy up your trays and even quicker to get back to you and get into a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, sliding under the covers with you and pulling you into his arms.

Your cheek rests against his chest, the steady thump of his heart a soothing sound that helps some of the anxiety about being off work ease off. Quinn's fingers caress circles and weird shapes across your arm and shoulder as he tucks you tight against him, legs twined together. Every so often he presses a kiss to your forehead, your cheek, the top of your hair, as if reassuring himself that you're okay and he's got you.

"You scored..." You mumble into his t-shirt, a small smile working it's way to your lips as his hand moves up to run through your hair, stopping at your scalp every now and then to scratch lightly until you feel like purring even if that purr is more of a wheezy rumble.

"Mmm, for you, baby." Quinn smiles down at you, another kiss pressed to your cheek.

"T...the wink?" His smile weakens slightly at your still stumbling breathlessness and the wheeze and crackle that accompany it.

"Just for you, sweet girl."

"I'm...I'm proud of you, y'know?" You smile up at him so sweetly that he can't help but feel certain in his choices today. Yeah, nearly missing a game was rough, and maybe the press are going to be dicks about it and maybe he would have felt guilty if he'd missed the game or they'd lost...but he knows he'd skip a million games if it meant you were being looked after, were safe.

"I know...and tomorrow you're going to show me how proud you are by letting me take you to the doctors again."

"Ugh..." You groan, hiding your face into his chest like that will stop him from dragging you to the doctors. Your stubbornness normally cute but in this moment less so.

Quinn cups the back of your head until your looking up at him, green eyes meeting yours with a pleading stare that makes your resolve tremble and shudder. "Please? I'm worried about you, baby...I was really scared when I got that text from you."

"Yeah?" You hate that you worried him...it's that worry that makes you concede that maybe you need to go back to the doctors and maybe as much as you hate it, you'll do it, for Quinn.

"Yeah. I can replace hockey, I can play another game if I miss one. But, I can't replace you. Let me take you to the doctors."

There's a beat of silence as he pleads with you, eyes soft, worried, gentle, thumb stroking soothingly across the base of your neck and you can't really deny him this. Not when you know you'd feel exactly the same if the roles were reversed, not when he nearly missed a game for you today and went in completely cold turkey to win it.

"Okay...as...as long as you keep cuddling me."

"I think I can do that, baby." You curl back into his arms like the spot was carved just for you and in that moment Quinn Hughes knows that you have fully hit the top of his priority list, no ands, ifs, buts or maybes. You could ask him to quit hockey tomorrow and he'd do it. He'd do anything for you and that should be terrifying, but it's not because he knows you'd never ask too much of him. If anything you ask too little.

[sugarwarachan]

touchstarved!aizawa who genuinely believes that nothing good lasts, so goes out of his way to deny how he feels about you

touchstarved!aizawa who still can’t help but yearn for a reprieve from it all, who traces your smile with his eyes so often that he’s practically memorized your face

touchstarved!aizawa who tells himself this is a one-time thing, even as he’s moaning like a whore into your neck as your fingers card through his hair, “feels so fuckin’ good, kitten, fuck. where you been all my life?”

touchstarved!aizawa who loves nothing more than the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock. can literally cockwarm you for hours, loves feeling like he’s molding your insides to the shape of him, "open up more for me, baby, attagirl. show daddy where you need him, huh?” (shrieking)

touchstarved!aizawa who likes slapping your ass red while he takes you from behind, "i’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you, princess, make sure the only dick you’re begging for is mine"

touchstarved!aizawa who fingers you in between orgasms, pumping his seed back inside you, "not wasting a fucking thing, sweet girl"

‎♡⃕ touchstarved!mha headcanons here. accepting requests <3 reblogs and comments always appreciated, so glad yall are enjoying this series!

[cursingtoji]

the cardio machine i want is on the cardio machine

cw: gym rat toji x loser!gf - size kink, sweat kink (?), toji is a big old meanie. loser!gf series: geto gojo nanami.

loser!reader who, like a million other sedentary people on new year’s eve, said “new year new me” and proceeded to enroll at the local gym.

gym rat!toji who knew how things are in the beginning of the year, so the first week he arrives one hour earlier than usual to avoid all the lazy fucks that won’t last two months.

of course he makes a few mental bets on the ones that would quit and how long it would take, you included.

it’s easy to spot the “i don’t want lift weights cause i don’t want look jacked” type of girl.

at the breaks between one set and the other he looked around, not surprised to see you slowing down the treadmill after running not even two whole minutes.

sometimes he caught you staring at him through the mirror, not an uncommon occurrence amonst the women there, though you surprised him one day by tapping his shoulder after he finishing his weighted squats.

“can you… give me a few tips?” he looked so intimidated, from up close his shoulders looked like a wall, he stared at you from above, dark green eyes seemed to be heavily judging you, “never mind this was a bad idea, sorry” you turned around, grabbing you bottle and running off the gym.

by the time you managed to gather the courage to show your face back there two whole weeks had passed.

“consistency is the key you know” you were distracted looking down your phone while slowly walking the treadmill when the handsome man appeared beside you, the sudden presence destabilized you.

before you could become the viral video of the week when inevitably a gym employee decides to post the security footage of your ass rolling off the active treadmill, toji wrapped one big arm around your waist and pulled you to the stable floor.

“you caught me off guard the other day” he said completely unfazed by saving you from a life of embarrassment, “then you disappeared.”

“yeah i didn’t know if i wanted to come back anyways, i haven’t see any results so far” you pulled the hem of your shirt down.

toji snorted, “‘course you ain’t seeing results, sweetheart, you don’t lift.”

“well, it’s hard…” toji rolled his eyes, there was always an excuse.

though he also did a new year’s resolution of being more patient, for his kids primarily but teaching a cute thing like you could be a good exercise too.

soon enough, toji was correcting your form, texting you asking why you haven’t showed up to the gym and ringing your bell incessantly when you complained about muscle pain and said you wouldn't go that day.

“it’ll feel better once you start to move” he explained, resting on your door frame when you opened the door on your pajamas.

“let me alone, just today” you whined.

“you asked for my help now go put on something without cartoons on it” he waited for you to turn around and slapped your butt. it had been only one week he was coaching you but there was already a weird intimacy due to the fact he was pretty much always looking at your body and touching you.

to correct your form. obviously.

"what do i have to do today, coach fushiguro?" you asked from your bedroom through an ajar door which allowed toji to get a peek at your pink underwear and cute ass.

"cardio, bicycle first. get some blood flowing on those sore muscles" he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows watching you bend over to grab a biker shorts at the lowest drawer then holding back a laughter at the grunt of pain coming from you.

"once it gets better i can teach you other types of cardio" he walked around your kitchen examining your cabinets and stuff you kept in your fridge. needless to say it was all junk.

"can't wait" you replied sarcastically, failing to understand the meaning.

it took a few more days till you got used to toji's training, then he decided to focus on your upper body.

"such a simple movement, how do you manage to get that wrong?" he raised from the bench he was sitting behind you watching your form through the mirror. you almost dropped the weights at your feet when he came close. it was almost scary how much bigger than you he was especially seeing it throght the mirror. his right hand wrapped around yours on the dumbell and his bicep touched your arm as he pushed your arm closer to your body, "tuck your elbows in, straight your back" his free hand pushed your shoulders till they were touching his chest.

how come he smelled so good, so... musky and...

"are you even making any force?" he lowered his head, his reflection looking annoyed. so you decided to ignore the sudden heat between your thighs and flex your arm the way he taught you.

and just like he promised, when you were consistent enough and handling a good 5 minute run he decided to show you a more pleasing cardio.

"toji please~" you whined, thighs burning from riding him, you were using his rock hard abdomen as a support, but still.

"one more minute, come on" he looked at the watch on his wrist and slapped your ass, "haven't i prep-ed you good enough?" his thumb rubbed your bottom lip then pushed in meeting your tongue, where you tasted yourself in his digits one hour after he ringed your bell and said he was going to reward your good discipline, but he had to strech you first.

"good girl" you felt his abdomn flex when he raised from his laying position on your bed, "now leave it to daddy" he pecked your lips and quickly changed positions, putting a pillow under your ass and rolling his neck to start his cardio of the day.

[poguehearted77]

Tap Out

Just thinking about Rafe's super gorgeous, beautifully breathtaking girlfriend who is notorious for giving people a hard time. Especially him.

She got that million dollar Million dollar oow, oow And all I want to do is touch it Make her tapout, tapout, tapout, tapout,

Rafe stands tall and brooding in front of the bed where you sat while he hits replay on the overbearing series of voicemails you'd left him while he was out.

"Hi Rafe, I know you said you and Barry had to go take care of whatever it was that you said—I don't know; I wasn't really listening, but I just saw this new coach bag online, and I need you to send me a picture of your credit card front and back so I can get it. Thanks in advance baby."

You stay silent and unbothered by the replay.

He plays the next one, "It's almost midnight, Rafe. When are you coming home? I miss you. The bed is so big and empty without you in it. You remember that night we came back from the Blue Diamond charity gala and we barely made it up the stairs? The way you fucked me so good, left me aching for you for days--mmmm, wanna feel you like that again, come home Rafeyy."

Your boyfriend huffs as he moves to play the last one except this one is silent for the first few moments until some lewd sounds can be picked up. It's wet and sticky. It sounds like Thanksgiving mac and cheese being stirred in the pot. Soon, the faintest string of moans can be heard.

Most wouldn't be able to pick up on it, but not Rafe. His ears are trained to the sound of your voice. He's accustomed to every pitch, tone and frequency your pleasure can take on.

You stand, ready to plead your case, "You were gone for hours, what was I supposed to do?" Your arms cross defensively and they suddenly drop when Rafe's big hand is holding you by the throat, squeezing tight enough to have you gasping.

"You think this shit is funny?" His voice is strict, unwavering and serious. "What if Barry heard this? Huh?" Your eyes roll, defences refusing to crumble even with a limited supply of air, "It's Barry, he'd probably thank me-"

You need to learn when to shut up at the end of a rhetorical question because now Rafe had you bent up like a pretzel. One hand is still around your neck while the other holds you at the waist.

Your legs are shaking as he brings you to what you thought was your third orgasm but is actually the fourth (you'd blacked out during the second one). "Rafe- no- s'too much," You murmur, voice broken and weak from all your screams.

"Nothin's too much for you." He groans, punctuating his sentences with a sharp snap of his hips. It sends you reeling and your eyes roll back as you feel that familiar heat begin to unfurl in your core.

You shake your head repeatedly, "I can't--Rafe! Please." You beg, so incredibly turned on by the sight of your hot boyfriend who looked down to where your bodies connected. The way your slick covered his cock down to his balls. It pulls a groan out of him from his core.

You admired the sweat that gathered over the thin hairs on his chest and that piercing blue gaze that would glance up at you from time to time to taunt you like now. "You know what to do if you can't take it sweet thing." You do know what to do, but you refuse to back down, you're so close.

"O-oh shit I'm-" The words escape and your climax is stolen from you when Rafe stops completely and pulls out, his hands move down to your hips, shamelessly displaying his physical dominance over you and flipping you onto your stomach effortlessly.

He grips the flesh of your waist and manhandles you until you're being pulled back against him, the beautiful sight of your plump and juicy ass in his hands is enough to send him to the heavens above or maybe the firey pits below.

You're already too weak to hold yourself up on your arms, so you let yourself fall into the sheets. Your cries muffled into the pillows as Rafe slowly presses back into you, stretching you back open. His rhythm picks up with nothing but urgency and mercilessness.

Your back arches, and you cry out his name when you're blinded by your own orgasm. Coming undone once more and he comes soon after with a breathy chuckle. His hips are still rolling into yours lethargicly when he whispers, "You got one more in you, baby?"

"Fuck no. I'm done." You whine, your fists tapping out on the pillow and his pace slows until he finally stops, slowly pulling out.

"That'll teach you to fuck with my voicemails when I'm not here." He lays himself down beside you, carefully moving the stray strands of hair out of your face to admire you.

Your lips were swollen from all the sucking and biting he'd done to them earlier, your cheeks flushed and your body is spent. You grin, "You know you liked it, especially that last one." Rafe exhaled, even in your drained state you can still find time to be bratty.

"I did, I did. You sounded so fucking pretty playing with that perfect pussy of yours. Had to go rub one out in Barry's bathroom because of you." You smile a little bigger at that. "Good." Is all you say and Rafe can only roll his eyes as he moves to hold you in his arms.

You both lay there, enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies until Rafe speaks up softly, "Tuesday." He says, and your head looks up at him with a confused tilt. Without having to ask him, he explains, "The purse you want. I ordered it. It'll be here on Tuesday."

Just when your smile couldn't get any bigger, it does, and Rafe can't help but to be in awe because god you're so fucking gorgeous but you're such a pain in the ass.

His prettiest headache.

[demilypyro]

Ok so as someone who knows very little about sonic characters that aren't the main cast. Can you explain to me who Surge is? (I am asking you to infodump. I understand I could just check the wiki but then you wouldn't get to talk about a character you like)

Alright you asked for it. Long post attack.

So Eggman had this protege named Doctor Starline, who had a falling out with his mentor and hatched a plan to kill Sonic and replace him with a new hero, one who would take Sonic's place in the eyes of the people but be under his control.

So he kidnapped a random girl off the street (no name or history known at this point), filled her with a bunch of cybernetics to give her superpowers, and slowly brainwashed and trained her into becoming essentially Sonic's equivalent of Wario.

This was Surge the Tenrec.

As Sonic's so-called "imposter," Surge is like an exaggerated version of Sonic. She has his heroic heart, but also his temper, his pride, his irresponsibility, his rudeness, all turned up to 11. She's got the standard super speed, as well as electrokinesis - lightning powers. She's accompanied by Kitsunami, or just Kit, a blue fennec with water powers and a similar background, but who was based on Tails instead.

As part of their brainwashing, Surge was conditioned to hate Sonic. As Surge's backup, Kit was conditioned to want to support Surge in any way he can.

Surge and Kit eventually found out what had happened to them, how Starline had kidnapped and brainwashed them, and were planning to betray him. Before they could, however, Starline was killed, after being thoroughly trounced by Eggman, leaving Surge and Kit free to do whatever they want.

When Surge finally encountered Sonic, she blamed him for what had happened to her. She holds him responsible for always letting Eggman survive to come back another day, leading to ever-escalating conflict. While before she had no real reason to hate him beyond her brainwashing, all that baseless animosity now had a foundation, and she's wanted to take him down since. Surge and Kit have had several fights with Sonic and Tails already, and while they were defeated each time, it's clear they pose a real threat.

Left with only each other, and having no real goals beyond taking down Sonic and Tails, and no hints to their past, Surge and Kit became a neutral force of chaos, not affiliated with either Sonic or Eggman. While Surge has the desire to be a hero, she can't let go of her grudge toward Sonic, and Kit's obsession with helping Surge regularly shows itself to be unhealthy, which may lead to a falling out between them in the future.

Since their first appearance in the Impostor Syndrome mini-series, they've made regular appearances in the main comic starting with issue #50. They've been making waves, establishing new rivalries and inciting new conflicts. Sonic wants to believe there's good in Surge, but she's a tough nut for him to crack.

Surge is one of the series' best original characters. Surge is cool, has an interesting origin, and she contrasts Sonic in a way that gives ample opportunities for new stories. She's got a good heart, but she's carrying around a ton of trauma and animosity she doesn't know what to do with. She's scrappy, resourceful, and more introspective than you might expect. And by often being positioned as the underdog, she's very easy to root for.

I was always a bit uninterested in the Sonic series at large, but Surge really got me on board. She really made me a fan.

She's my favorite Sonic character.

If you're interested, look into the Imposter Syndrome mini-series, which leads right into Sonic IDW issue #50, or you can just read Sonic IDW from the start.

Okay bye

[shytulipghost]

Here's a funny anecdote:

When I was 13, I had an idea for a time travel story which was about a kingdom that had a magical clock tower that was created by a wizard a long time ago. The citizens would heavily rely on said clock to go back in time and fix their problems (the problem though was that they would have to climb up the tower to move the hands of the clock anticlockwise).

An alternative for the citizens was to go up to the wizard's descendants for help. The descendants had a pocket watch that they could use to time travel and it was an object they would pass down from generation to generation (it worked the same way as the clock tower, but they could also move forwards in time and stop time). However, the citizens would take advantage of them and treat them as living tools instead of people.

I ended up abandoning the whole idea 2 or 3 years later because I didn't know how to develop the story and I was starting to lose interest in it.

...

Cut to last year, when I decided to watch the first two episodes of The Little Prince 2010 series out of nostalgia (to be more precise, the "Planet of Time" arc). I was having a good time rewatching it and I was slowly remembering the enjoyment I had for this series when I was a kid (I had only watched the first season). Then, I got to the flashback scene in the second episode, where the viewer is shown and told how the Snake tempted the watchmaker (a very important figure in that planet because he controls all the planet's clocks and how time functions there) to ignore his responsibilities and, unknowingly, slowly destroy his own planet.

Here's the relevant part of the flashback: the Snake basically asks him if he wishes to be a kid again and not be stressed and burned out anymore (the watchmaker had been exhausted lately because of his job). Once he seems interested in the idea, the Snake gives him a "solution". What's that "solution"? To grab a clock and move the hands anticlockwise so he can essentially "go back in time" (he doesn't actually time travel; he just turns into a baby).

The moment I watched that scene, I remembered my abandoned time travel story and thought: "Oh, so that's where I got that idea!" (I also realized that it was very ironic to be watching these two episodes again for nostalgic reasons).

I knew that some childhood shows and movies had a direct influence on my art and writing (for example, the main characters of the novel I'm writing are just the Mane 6 from MLP: you have the nerdy girl, the sporty girl, the girly girl, the silly girl, etc.), but I hadn't considered that "The Little Prince" may have also influenced my work (both the abandoned and non-abandoned ideas). I might have subconsciously taken other elements from it, such as some of its themes and plot details).

I think it also probably had a small influence on some of my antagonists (especially, some of my demon characters). There aren't any demons in the series, but the Snake is depicted as being kinda like Satan, with him tempting people and making deals sometimes. (Funnily enough, when the series came out, I had started catechesis and my mom had read to me an abridged version of the Bible that was made for kids. However, I didn't make the connection at the time that the Snake was acting like the serpent from the Bible).

NOTE: the series isn't a Christian show, but it's something I noticed after rewatching it. There aren't any other similarities to the Bible or Christianity besides that. Also, I'm not very religious, but I find stories with demons interesting.

being an artist and revisiting media you liked when you were 11 is like. oh ok. this shaped my sense of humor and the way I write characters and the way I pace narratives and the tropes I'm drawn to. and I vastly underestimated how much of an impact it had on me because I literally have not thought about it for 15 years. but it was there inside me the whole time. ok. ok cool! c ool

[fandomtrumpshate]

30 hours into the signup window …

and we are blowing past last year's (record-setting!) numbers. Can't hardly even see them in the rear view mirror …

Last year, at 29 hours we had 223 individual creators offering 312 auctions in 88 listed fandoms and 76 write-in fandoms.

This year? Well.

We have 354 individual creators offering 496 auctions in 106 listed fandoms and 124 write-in fandoms.

That's … amazing.

The listed fandoms with the most signups (so far!) are:

48 Good Omens 48 MXTX (works) * 40 K-Pop * 31 Sherlock Holmes * 31 Marvel * 21 DC * 21 Star Wars * 19 Teen Wolf

And for our unlisted fandoms:

5 Jeff Satur - Music Videos 4 Zhen Hun / Guardian (drama and novel) 3 Cabin Pressure 3 Control (Remedy Game) 3 Fire Emblem Awakening 3 Fire Emblem Fates 3 Schitt's Creek 3 The Goblin Emperor Series - Katherine Addison 3 Transformers 3 Zhen Hun / Guardian (drama) RPF

Over in our supported orgs, most creators are leaving the decision to their bidders, but among those who are choosing specific ones, the any/all option for the umbrella category is doing very well. Just below them three orgs keep changing places - MECA, the Young Center, and Freedom to Read are neck and neck with their positions swapping (again!) AS WE'RE TYPING this post.

Also of note, we have 26 fan labor offers - so far!

Stay tuned for deeper dives into the un/listed fandom numbers, and for a round up of the various types of fan labor on offer.

Signups are OPEN! Join us to boost your fandom's presence!

[kisses4themissus]

Private Eye || Hwang In-Ho x Reader

wc : 2.6k a/n : and the crowd is...not surprised that Its gonna be a series.. !! warning; not proof-read so possible misspelling ahead !!

masterlist

Beep Beep Beep.

You groaned as your alarm went off, without looking you had stopped the annoying alarm; Your boyfriend also stirring at the sound. “You have to leave already?” He sighed turning to lay on his back, wiping sleep from his eyes. You smiled at him and sleepily nodded. “Duty calls..” You sighed, swing your legs that touched the cold floor.

As you went to stand a warm embrace wrapped around you. 

“Jun-ho, i need to get up!” You chuckled, rubbing his hands that rested on your waist. “Meet me for lunch?” He asked, smiling up at you.

A moment passed, “Ok, but just this time!” You teasingly pointed your finger at him. Jun-ho nodded and released you from his grasp.

Once freed you had ran to the connected bathroom to get ready for the day. It had been a few months since you’d been anonymously hired to watch, seong gi-hun a fifty one year old man; he had gone from being severely in debt to having billions of dollars in his account. You had grown tired of the case, he had rarely left a motel he had bought out.

You groaned internally, it’d be another day of sitting in an alleyway that had a good view of the motel. Occasionally getting to an abandoned building, watching as he’d park on the roof and sit their for the day; at first you thought he was contemplating killing himself but after a few visits you grew used to his routine. 

As you passed through the kitchen to grab your coffee, jun-ho handed you a small paper bag, he handed it over with a small smile. “Breakfast for you!” 

You leaned closer and kissed his cheeks before kissing his lips. “Thank you, honey!” You both smiled into your kiss, not wanting to leave you parted away first, chuckling as he leaned forward as you parted. “I’ll see you for lunch.” You said, holding two fingers to his lips before grabbing you coffee and breakfast and ran to your car.

- - - - - - - - - - -

It had been months of the same routine, you had watched as gi-hun looked over his several tablets and phones he had in his car.

You quickly grabbed your camera as he answered a phone call, his eyes widened at whatever the other person had said, he quickly started up his car and backed out of the roof and began to drive off.

You raised your eyebrows at his action, you quickly placed your camera down and began to follow behind him

You had kept yourself from pushing the gas, slowing down as he got pulled over. You cursed as you recognized one of the traffic cops; You had been told to keep quiet about the case, you had been lucky enough for jun-ho to understand since he was a detective and tried his best to keep you away from his own work back then.

Once back on the road, you followed behind as he parked his car in front of a shady alleyway. You groaned as you parked further away and got out, camera in hand. Before walking to the alley, you pulled out a tracker from your jacket and stuck it on gi-hun’s car.

You watched from the shadows as gi-hun looked frantically around the alleyway, you pulled out your camera and began snapping photos, you had froze as you noticed a man on top of a building, staring down at gi-hun with a smirk, had there been another P.I working on gi-hun’s case?

You quickly snapped a photo of him before hiding away further as gi-hun ran back to his car.

The other man walked away, back into the building, once you knew it was clear you walked further and began to take photos, there had been blood splatter all over. As you went to leave, you stumbled.

You looked down at your foot and tiled your head at the small brown card, it had three different shapes on the front. You turned it over to see a number, with a confused mindset you tucked it away into your pocket and walked to your car to follow gi-hun again, what was he really involved with…

You had gotten back to the motel before gi-hun. You watched and took photos as the man from before walked into the motel and turned on the sign’s light. You slouched into your seat, waiting for the next movement.

As you waited, the rain fell on top of the car, it had soothed you, unlike the events you had encountered earlier. As you sat in your car you quickly pulled out the brown card from earlier and picked up your phone to call it, you quickly began recording the call.

As you dialed the number, it clicked, someone had picked up. “Hello, who’s calling?” A stern voice answered. “I was given this card earlier today.” You lied, the other person shifted. “Do you wish to participate in the games?” They asked, you furrowed your brows. “Yes.” You shifted in your seat.

“Name and birthday.” They requested.

You gave them your information and waited. He gave you a location to be picked up, it’d be on halloween night, you nodded to yourself, now trying to find an excuse to tell jun-ho. “Thank you.” You hung up and sighed shakily. You perked up as gi-hun walked back into the motel.

An hour had gone by, you had left, there had been no activity.

Once you had gotten home, you paced around your living room; trying to think of things to tell jun-ho. It had been a surprise once you walked through the doors to see he hadn’t gotten home yet. Luckily it was the weekend tomorrow, the employer had given you the weekends off from gi-hun’s case, which you were lucky to have.

You had gotten ready for bed, the cool covers over your body. You had managed to dose off but was woken up when jun-ho had gotten into the bed. You turned over and stared at your boyfriend. “Busy day?” You questioned, making jun-ho tiredly laugh and nodded. “Me too.” You smiled and snuggled into his arms.

As he began to rub your arm in comfort he sighed, looking at the ceiling of the room. “Tomorrow we’re going to the memorial site then my mom asked if we could go over for dinner..” He hesitated, you knew his half brother’s family and himself in general was a harsh subject.

“I’ll be right beside you the whole time.” You reassured, smiling tiredly at him.

The next day you both had strolled through the memorial site, other families bringing gifts, you held a small bouquet of flowers for jun-ho’s sister in law’s grave. You tuned out what his mom had been saying as you walked to the wall.

You sighed as jun-ho walked ahead and hung up with his mother, he grabbed a photo and painfully sighed. You carefully approached, noticing the very wilted flowers, you quickly switched it out for the new ones you both a had bought. You both stayed silent, stopping to give your respects to her. 

You looked to the side and smiled sadly at all the graves without flowers, jun-ho bit his lip as he placed the photo of in-ho and his ex-wife back on the wall.

Jun-ho cleared his throat and turned to you, reaching out his hand. You gave him a soft smile and took it as you both walked back to the car.

“She’s very pretty!” You exclaimed as you both got in. “She’s was very kindhearted too.” Jun-ho smiled, thinking about his sister-in-law. As you both got in the car and began to drive to the store, your happy mood was brought down as your phone buzzed. You pulled it out from your bag, your smile had dropped as you read the text.

“I need the update on seong gi-hun by tonight.” 

You scoffed, jun-ho turned to you concerned, holding two fruit trays in his hands. “No to the pears?” He questioned, chuckling softly. You sighed and shook your head. “I have to skip out on dinner with your mother, the new employer wants an update tonight.” You explained.

“It’s alright, my mom will understand, you work very hard!” He reassured, placing one of the fruit into the small basket. “Thank you.” You smiled at him before leading him down the snack aisle.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You groaned as you send another file to a strange unknown email. It had been all the updates from the past month. Tired you walked to your closet to change into your pajamas.

As you moved through your closet you accidentally knocked down a box of things jun-ho kept on his side. You groaned and knelt down to pick up the small knick knacks and stray photos. You stopped at one, it had been jun-ho when he was younger with a bit older guy, you turned the photo around, looking for a date.

Jun-ho’s highschool graduation, you stopped as you furrowed your brows at the photo, who was the other man then? His half brother? You and jun-ho had begun dating after your college program had ended, you had never met his brother but alway heard of his mother’s guilt. As you stared at the picture, the sound of the door opening made you jump, quickly swiping everything into the box and back on the top shelf of the closet.

“How was dinner?” You questioned, walking out of the closet to see jun-ho taking off his jacket. “It was alright, she sent leftovers for you…” He said, distracted. You sighed walking over to him. “The anniversary gotten to her?” You questioned, wrapping your arms around yourself.

Jun-ho nodded sadly, tossing his jacket on the bed. 

“She feels guilty for no reason, he choose to leave..” Jun-ho ranted, you nodded at his words, letting him get it out. 

- - - - - - - - - - -

In-ho sighed as he took off his mask, it had been rough preparing for the upcoming games, it didn’t help gi-hun was trying to worm back, his own brother was now attempting to find the island. 

He sighed, pouring himself whiskey before opening a burner email he had created for the private investigator he had hired to keep watch on gi-hun. He drank as he went through photo after photo, it had been the same routine, til he saw a photo of the recruiter, in-ho stopped and looked once more at the photos.

Gi-hun was getting too close for comfort again.

You sighed as you watched jun-ho collect his things, he said he had begin to investigate the islands where he has washed up on once again and had now even more info thanks to someone else.

You chuckled as he sighed to himself before walking over to you. “How long will you be gone?” He questioned, sitting down beside you on the bed, “Don’t know…” You shrugged sadly; you had come up with the excuse you had been requested to go to another country to investigate someone badly.

“I’ll miss you!” Jun-ho leaned in and kissed you tenderly on your lips, you smiled into the kiss. “I’ll miss you too..” You both pulled away, looking into each others eyes lovingly. “I actually got you a gift!” Jun-ho smiled and popped up and walked to the dresser and pulled out a small velvet box.

“For me?” You questioned, smiling as he placed it in your palm. “For you to have a piece of me with you.” he explained, you smiled at his words and opened to see a heart shaped necklace. With a gasp you jumped up and hugged your boyfriend, smothering him with kisses. “Thank you, this is so beautiful!” You squealed, taking it out of the box.

“I’ll put it on you..” Jun-ho took the necklace and moved your hair to the side as he clasped the necklace. You smiled as the heart sat perfectly. “You’re the perfect boyfriend!” You smiled and brought him into another kiss, you both pulled away after you had begun to loose oxygen.

“Alright now go see your evidence!” You smiled as jun-ho nodded and kissed you bye once more before leaving the apartment. 

You sighed and stood up from the bed, you looked around, you had cleaned everything up. You were ready to see what gi-hun had gotten himself into with that man.

You nervously looked at your phone again, you’re pick up was at twelve, it quickly approached hte time and you hadn’t seen any sign of a car.

As you went to walk back to your complex, the sound of brakes came from behind you, slowly turning you saw a van, the window rolled down to see someone in a pink suit with a circle on their mask; you brushed it off and assumed it was a costume.

“Ms y/l/n?” You nodded, the back door opened itself. You quickly got in and looked around to see other people fast asleep in their chairs.

As the car began to move you heard a soft hiss and gaz filled the car, it had smelt of lavender; you moved your head back as you got lulled to a soft deep sleep.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Classical music filled your ears as you woke up to see bunks all around you. 

With wide eyes you got up and looked around, your clothes had been changed too; you wore a green tracksuit with a numbers over the right side and the shirt; player 455.

You stopped looking around as you spotted gi-hun getting up from his own bunk. A loud buzz came from the center of the room. You looked over and saw more pink suited people walk out. You quickly follow gi-hun and listened as the pink suits explained everything and answer some questions from people.

As you all lined up to sign the contact you stopped, the strange man, the money gi-hun randomly earned. You quickly searched for him in the crowd and walked over to the line he stood in. You watched as he signed his name. Once you walked up, you quickly filled out the form before running to where gi-hun began walking through all the confusing stairs.

You kept your eye on his as you all passed through the photos and were led to an open field, a weird animatronic doll sat on the other end of the field. The first game was announced to be red light, green light.

You watched gi-hun with furrowed brows as he told you all explained what to do. Most had brushed it off as him being paranoid or high off drugs. You could see the fear in his eyes as he spotted the animatronic. You listened to his instructions. You closed your eyes as gunshots rang out around you.

Once you opened your eyes, you quickly moved behind player 230. Your eyes widened as the doll turned once more and he pushed the players in front of him. Once clear you stood up and followed him.

“Who’s shuffling behind me like a rat?” He grumbled out, you quickly grabbed the back of his jacket collar with a tight grasp. “A rat.” You smiled; once in the clear you used your strength and threw him to th ground and ran ahead.

- - - - - - - - - - -

In-ho quietly sipped on his whiskey as he watched players drop dead. He sighed, growing bored of the same reaction, he stopped sipping as a familiar looking player held thanos by his collar. 

He quickly, leaned over to his side table and went through the player files. He stopped as he found player 455; Y/n Y/l/n. The name had looked familiar. He walked over to the latest photos he had gotten of his family, he shuffled through them and finally stopped at one, jun-ho and his girlfriend at a friend’s party, both hangoff each other smiling.

Jun-ho’s girlfriend.

hwang in-ho taglist: @snowtargaryen @menabuser16 @azusdump @jspidey5 @annasnape7 @macnbriee @ookybatt @sasha-swftie @moonxnite