#once again i have underestimated the words needed to get there

[yallthemwitches]

“Can I… can I touch you?”

And maybe as a sequel to study session?

Hello Anon! Yes! I'm glad you asked for a sequel for this one because that was one of my favorite kinktobers to write! Perhaps that's why I (once again) went in expecting a micro fic but ended with 3k words...

I feel like I write too much crazy, frantic jily so it was nice to have a sweet but sexy moment. (it's still smut after all)

Here's the link to Study Session, though you don't need to read it before this one!

Read under the cut or AO3 here!

“Do you have anything between third and fourth period?”

She had said it as a joke—-well, sort of, but either way she had underestimated the hope a teenage boy could gather from such an offer.

When she enters the common room he is facing the door, wringing his hands nervously. His hair is still wild from their stint in the library, and she tries not to note that his tie has also remained in a similar state of dishevelment, clearly having been tugged in a manner that school regulations don’t allow. 

“Er, hi.”

He jumps out of his seat and walks towards her, almost sheepish in his movements. His eyes are unable to stop flickering to her lips then downwards, evident that their earlier moment together is still fresh in his mind. 

“You said something about meeting again…after third.” 

The sheepish tone of his voice creates a stir in her chest accompanied by a burning heat traveling downwards. James Potter, quidditch hero, most popular boy in school, did not only want her but was absolutely powerless because of it. 

“If—if you were just having a laugh about that then I’ll just..”

“No, I wasn’t.” She stutters, “...I wasn’t having a laugh—I mean.” It bubbles out and her face flushes red. So much for keeping an upperhand.

 James’ eyes grow wide and bright, his typical crooked smile starting to tug at his lips. 

“Yeah?” 

She could practically hear his confidence growing, his ego reentering his body.

 “Well, all the lads will be out for the next two hours besides Peter, but I —“

“--You told him to shove off,” she finishes for him, the heat from earlier that day now back and pooling heavy between her legs. He doesn’t need to elaborate on where he was referring to, the stairs to the boys dorm practically pulsing from the corner of her eye. 

If she hadn’t intended to sit on his lap back in the library, there is no mistake of intention now. James nods, rare blotches of red appearing under his rims and Lily has to work hard to not think about how the last time she saw his cheeks in such a way, he was grinding an orgasm out of her with just his leg. 

“So— should we...” His eyes flicker to the stairs, an air of excitement and impatience setting in on his features. “I mean, again– if you want to.”

She takes a step closer, arms aching from staying next to her sides and not sliding back in their now familiar spot around his neck.

“Lead the way.”

~ ~ ~

The boys’ dorm is just about how she imagined it, a clutter of books, quidditch supplies and various contraband. Any other time she might have tried to take a closer look, but she doesn’t get far enough in the door before James rounds on her with newfound confidence. Suddenly, something warm and heavy wraps around her waist, pulling her flush against him. 

“You are just lovely.” He cups her face, stepping close enough so her legs part to make way for him to slot himself against her. 

“I can’t stop thinking about earlier—how you smell, how soft your lips are, the feel of you against me…” 

He sidles them over so her back touches the door and his hand juts out until she hears the click of the lock sliding into place. 

“I still feel like I’m dreaming— like this can’t be real. I must be suffering from potion fumes….laying in the hospital wing, hallucinating—-“

She pulls up, slanting their lips together. He sighs an oh into her mouth, his breath hot and sweet. They are sweet probing kisses, not like the ones in the library where the urgency to simply be together was unbearable.

“Stop talking Potter.” 

He laughs, mouth recapturing hers, drawing her even closer. With privacy the gift of time is palpable, allowing them to move out of the realm of fever dreams and into reality.  She feels his hands wrap tighter around her, finding her arse and giving a small squeeze, pushing a smile into her lips. 

Hands find nests in each other's hair. Tongues move like silk contrasting with the hard, playful nips they exchange to lower lips. She savors each small sound he makes into her, all a perfect bundle of adoring and awe.

Unsurprising, he can’t stay quiet for long. “Lily—I’m so…” but the words get stuck in his throat, her attention going towards something hard beginning to press into her thigh. Experimentally, she shifts against it and he makes a low humming sound, the hand resting on her arse tensing up and waving her forward to repeat the motion. Another hand curls around and dances along the hemline of her shirt, tickling the spot of midriff starting to show. 

“James–” she breathes out, holding onto him for support as he kisses his way to the sensitive place behind her ear. “I want you–.” 

At the confession his hands contract and his lips become more frantic, trading light butterfly kisses for open mouthed ministrations. It makes finishing her thought almost not worth it. 

“--I want you, but I’d also like to enter the room first..” He pulls back and gives another genuine laugh, one that makes her burst with pride. Reaching up on her toes, she can’t help but place a kiss where his neck is exposed from his outburst and the feel of her lips snaps him back into gear, turning her in his arms and waddling them forward towards the bed across the room. His erection strains against her arse as they move, each step a little zing of pleasure. 

“How rude of me,” he whispers against her ear. They stop in front of the bed and he turns her back to face him, eyes clouded as though sleepwalking. “Welcome to my bed.”

His Bed. It’s almost humorous how one single noun is capable of making her heart beat out of her rib cage. How many times has she imagined what he does in this bed? How many times has he thought of her?

He sits on the edge and pulls her down onto his lap. It’s all too similar from that morning—the way her hands circle his neck, how her body positions in a way that even the slightest movement creates friction between her center and his ever present erection. Settling in, they both let out a moan of relief, both evidently yearning for the same thing since the last couple of hours. 

“I’m absolutely mad for you Evans,” he murmurs and she wastes no time pushing their mouths together again, a sailing feeling in her chest taking over. She puts a hand to the front of his shirt, edging it under to find the hot skin of his abdomen and he sighs a soft gentle sound that she immediately wants to hear again. 

“That’s funny because I’m absolutely mad for you too.”

The look in his eye changes from hazy to dark to purely euphoric, responding with a deep kiss. She shifts over him until she is back straddling his waist, legs curling around his waist until she can feel the familiar brush of him against the spot she yearns to be touched most. 

“Can I take this off?” A hand stalls at a button of his shirt while the other has already begun wandering the length of his chest underneath, hungry to feel what she already knew about his stature. In response, he unlatches his hands from around her to unbutton it, shucking it off with his tie in one movement. 

Christ.

She pulls back to get a better look at him, unabashedly darting her gaze from his abs to his toned shoulders.  She had seen him shirtless before during quidditch, the vision of him pumping his fist in the air in victory after a match easily being a replaying image in her mind, but never this close, never touchable.

“You’re fit–” she murmurs, catching the burning look of a stroked ego in his eyes. She doesn’t let herself think about her next move, moving her hands to her own blouse and unbuttoning down the front. A quiet fuck escapes his lips when her shirt finally flaps open, exposing her bare breasts to him and the cold dormroom air. His eyes roam her chest, a haggard breath coming from his open mouth.

“Merlin…”

She has the immediate desire to cover up, feeling the weight of his gaze on her. His hand remains modest on her waist, clearly frozen from shock. 

“I—I don’t wear a bra,” she says deadpan, wanting to fill the silence. A grin breaks out on his face, eyes sparkling. 

“And I thank Merlin for it everyday.”

Her cheeks blaze and now she does cover up, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“What do you mean?”

James cocks his head, a glint of mischief in his eye. “Evans, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think there’s a bloke in this castle over the third year that hasn’t noticed.”

She turns her head, trying to mask obvious embarrassment. It isn’t like she's not aware either, but to hear it from him, make it too unbearable to think about. Sensing her shift in mood, he cups her chin and pulls her head back to look at him, eyes now soft. 

“No, don’t hide yourself. You have no idea—no idea how much I’ve even tried to imagine you like this.”

He places a hand on one of her crossed arms and she slowly lowers them. She watches as he licks his lips, eyes growing wild again at the sight of her. 

“--And apparently my imagination is rubbish because—because, I mean fuck.”

He inches a hand up from her stomach towards one of her breasts, eyes flickering between watching her expression and the path to the newly exposed skin. Stopping just underneath, he leans in and gives her a soft kiss, begging for permission.

Taking his hand, she finishes his path for him, her hard tit pressing into his warm, enveloping palm. He sucks in a breath, eyes becoming heavy lidded as his fingers curl around her soft skin. 

“Just unbelievable…”

She grins, tugging lightly at the strands of hair at the back of his head.

“What?”

“How absolutely perfect you are.”

Her body surges with pure adoration. She hinges forward, pressing the bare skin of their chests together until he is falling back onto the bed, taking her down with him. They scramble with laughter for a moment, situating themselves properly so she hovers over his laying form. A hand traces the muscles of his abdomen down to his waistband, fingering at the fabric before continuing downwards to the tent of his pants. Lifting her hips up, she presses a hand against his erection, smoothing her thumb around the outline of him beneath the fabric. 

“Is this alright?” She asks, knowing the answer just by the look on his face. She makes another hesitant pass with her thumb and a shallow moan escapes his lips, head starting to fall back. 

“It’s incredible. Please, don’t stop.”

She doesn’t. Leaning forward to kiss her way back up to him, he shuffles himself lower so he can take one of her tits into his mouth, his tongue swirling hot circles around the hardened peak. The sensation makes her hips rut automatically, pressing downwards into where her hand continues to touch him through his pants. 

An arm wraps around her and before she can dissent, he flips them. Her skirt has already bunched up to her waist, exposing a pair of plain black knickers that catch his attention immediately. Eyes roaming around the bottom half of her body. 

“Lily—can I touch you?” He asks softly. 

“You’re already touching me.” She responds, teasing, but he is too far gone for games, eyes dark and glassy with pure want. 

“No–I mean, here.”

His hand moves to rest just above her pubic bone, fingers angling down towards her center. All amusement falls from her, replaced with a thrashing need to feel him touch just inches lower from where they lay. 

Breath catches in her chest. Suddenly it feels like they are moving in water, slow and steady against each other. She takes his hand and wills it downwards, his fingertips skirting over the fabric of her knickers as they round down in between her thighs. He takes a sharp inhale when he reaches what she already knows: her knickers are completely soaked through. 

“Godric help me.”

He moves to press harder into the fabric, but she holds his hand hovering, just barely away from her center. She reaches between them with her other hand, finding his waistband and tugging. 

“Take these off.”

His eyes grow impossibly wider, tearing his gaze between where his hand is being held and to her face. 

“ I will…in a moment, first I want to–” 

Her grip on his hand tightens and her cheeks blaze. 

“No. I want to touch you too.”

He needs no more convincing. He undoes his pants and she pulls at his waistband, deliberately taking his underpants with them. Upon seeing him fully nude, her jaw slackens. She had seen men naked before, been touched and pleasured to various degrees in the past couple of years, but nothing prepared her for him. Months of sneaking glances, watching how lithe his body moved during quidditch, dreaming about how his body could possibly feel moving inside hers did not even get close to the way he looked now. 

“Lily–if you don’t want to keep going…” He stutters out. Coming out of her trance, she realizes that she had been staring for too long, swept away by the sheer reality of him. 

“C’mere, please.”

He shifts back over her and the feel of his tip slightly wet against her hip makes her surge with giddiness. His hand goes back between her legs, a finger experimenting with pressing down and drawing small circles into the damp area. In turn, she reaches down and takes him with a loose fist, palm sliding easily up and down soft flesh. 

They exchange soft, whimpering sounds, hips pushing to meet hands, open mouths molding together to catch each other’s moans. 

“James–” She lifts her hips and tugs down at her knickers, letting them slip down and off her legs. 

“Absolutely beautiful–” he gasps, watching his finger sink into her. Her body squeezes around him, zapping her with pleasure with every twist and flex of his fingers. The pumping of her hand speeds up, giving more attention to smear some of his precome around his crown. His head collapses down, forehead pressed against hers, moaning deeper with every turn of a hand. 

“I want you inside me,” she whispers, then repeats again. His hand stills, eyes pulling up to look at her with a delirious wonder. 

“Lily—”

“Please, I need you. Unless…unless you don’t…” 

A chaotic laugh explodes from his mouth, doubling him over. He kisses her, his tongue pressing her mouth open so he can speak directly into her. 

“I have never wanted anything more in my entire life.”

Her heart swells. She hitches a leg up, opening herself up wider for him to sidle down against her. He takes hold of his cock, smearing his tip into her folds before finding her entrance and pressing lightly so just the smallest bit of his crown stretches into her. 

“Holy fucking merlin–,” he groans, watching his cock sink further into her, “you feel so good, so tight.”

The way he feels inside of her is unparalleled. His movements are slow and gentle, adorations pouring out of his mouth against her neck, her chest, her cheeks—anywhere he can press kisses while he dips in and out of her, filling her up. 

The heat in her stomach mounts, pooling with adoration and pleasure and something that frighteningly feels already, impossibly, like love. He checks in on her, taking her face with his hand and looking into her eyes, searching and finding just as much happiness and desire as she sees staring back.

“Just like that, love—” he urges her on, helping her hips grind up against him while his thumb teases her clit with tiny circles. 

It feels like she is mounting a steep mountain, almost to the peak where her pleasure surges in a great big orb. He must feel it too because his adorations turn into coaxes, pressing her towards release. 

“That’s it–Oh, Lily I can feel it. I can feel you’re close. Fuck—come for me. Let me feel you come—”

Something inside her snaps and everything disappears besides the soft kisses James presses into her skin and the feel of him still moving inside her. Her whole body clenches and relaxes, an ecstatic pleasure flooding all the way to her toes. His voice breaks through the haze, thin and straining.

“Baby, you feel so good, so impossibly wet—can I—”

She grabs into his hair, pulling him down for a searing kiss. 

“Come inside me, it’s ok. I want to feel you too.” 

He gasps, letting go. A warm sensation fills her and trickles down her thighs, him making his final few thrusts before slowing to a halt and drooping over her. He remains inside of her while their heartbeats slow in tandem, his slowing breath tickling the side of her neck.

“What are you thinking about?” He whispers after a few moments pass. A thumb passes over her cheek to move a stray piece of hair. 

She hesitates, before answering. “I’m thinking about how I don’t want this to end.”

He presses a kiss into her neck and she wraps her arms around him, holding them together as though the moment he gets up they will be back to being just “Potter and Evans:” two friends who laugh and talk but nothing more. 

“Then we won’t let it end,” he murmurs. She opens her eyes to find his staring back, something shining behind the irises. 

It’s consuming—the sensation he creates within her. Even as just mates and study partners she feels it: the desire to take him within herself and keep him there forever. To experience every single thing with him,good or bad, because anything with him by her side seems bearable and worth it. 

“Go out with me.”

He chuckles, hearing the words he has thrown at her for years being finally sent back like karma. His face bursts with pure unfiltered joy and he swoops down to press his lips to hers, his happiness contagious. 

“Gladly—anything you want, Evans.” He says between kisses. Still inside her, she can feel him start to harden again, impossibly rebounding by the force of sheer elation alone. 

“Ah—James.”

He kisses his way down to her chest, a smile still caked onto his face as she squirms under him, the slick feel of him moving again inside her gaining momentum. It’s impossible for her not to smile too and the feeling from before reappears: not just pleasure, but perhaps already love. It explodes from her and she giggles, just as ready as he is to tangle together again. 

“But I have to warn you,” he says, eyes glinting as he presses their foreheads back together, “I don’t think I’m ever going to want us to leave this bed. Not for Hogsmeade, not for the world.”

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Lily Potter is not Mediocre

I wrote this initially as a response to a reblog on this post, but I wanted to give Lily a post of her own that isn't tied in with my rambling about shipping Voldemort. So here it is:

We don't know a lot about Lily, but what we do know implies she is very magically talented and has a bit of a cruel streak to her. She isn't as perfect as some portray her, nor as awful as I've seen some claim her to be. but oh boy do I disagree about her being mediocre.

Let's talk about the magical power first, becouse I feel a lot of people underestimate Lily's magical talent.

“Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good lord, it’s clear you’ve inherited your mother’s talent. She was a dab hand at Potions, Lily was! Here you are, then, here you are — one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well!”

(HBP)

I know some people like to claim Lily was only good at potions because of Snape, but I don't think that's the case. I'm sure he helped her out at first, but they stopped being friends at 5th year and she continued to seemingly have good grades at Potions since Slughorn really loves her.

As a child, Lily has incredible control over her accidental magic and accomplishes difficult magic naturally and intuitively:

But the girl had let go of the swing at the very height of its arc and flown into the air, quite literally flown, launched herself skyward with a great shout of laughter, and instead of crumpling on the playground asphalt, she soared like a trapeze artist through the air, staying up far too long, landing far too lightly.

(DH)

Lily had picked up a fallen flower from the bush behind which Snape lurked. Petunia advanced, evidently torn between curiosity and disapproval. Lily waited until Petunia was near enough to have a clear view, then held out her palm. The flower sat there, opening and closing its petals, like some bizarre, many-lipped oyster.

(DH)

This is way more advanced than magic usually shown by kids, especially because of how controlled it is. The only other character we see on level with Lily's control at such a young age (and who mastered unaided flight on their own) is Voldemort.

Harry also shows insanely powerful accidental magic (including Apparation) and let's just say, I don't think Harry's magical talent came from James.

Lily was both Prefect and head girl (like Tom) again showing she had a great academic track record and was likely a top student in many of her classes. We know she was good at Potions, but she was likely very adapt at Charms as well:

You have your mother’s eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work

(PS)

Now, I talked in the past on here about how Harry is insanely magically powerful, specifically when it came to intuitive magic that just reacted to his emotions/desires or him being able to feel magic (this is that post). If we take Dumbledore at his word on how Lily cast her sacrificial love on Harry (which I tend to do) her sacrificial magic was insanely intuitive magic like we see Harry repeatedly do throughout the books.

I think the reason no one else ever did is because of the specific circumstances and Lily's specific words, yes, but I also think, that like her son, she had a knack for her magic responding intuitively to her desires no spell needed. This is a mark of a very powerful wizard/witch and not something a mediocre wizard would be likely to accomplish.

We see Harry cast this same sacrificial love in DH. And he, too, doesn't really cast anything, it's intuitive, his magic is powerful and incredibly reactive to his emotions — and I believe Lily was the same.

JKR has mentioned Voldemort tried to convince James and Lily to become Death Eaters, more than once ("Thrice defied him"). He wouldn't have given them more than one chance if either of them was mediocre. I also don't think he would've tried to get Lily to step aside so he wouldn't have to kill her as many times as he did if he thought she was average at best.

As for her personality, you're right, she isn't exactly Harry, but they do share some very important traits, and as I said, I think she and Tom would clash less than Harry and Tom (as in Lily doesn't get angry the way Harry does, so their reactions would be different).

Lily acted charming and prideful:

She turned, nose in the air, and marched off towards her sister.

(DH)

“Hmpf. Yes, well. You shouldn’t have favorites as a teacher, of course, but she was one of mine. Your mother,” Slughorn added, in answer to Harry’s questioning look. “Lily Evans. One of the brightest I ever taught. Vivacious, you know. Charming girl.I used to tell her she ought to have been in my House. Very cheeky answers I used to get back too.”

(HBP)

Slughorn talks about Lily's personality more than any other character, and what he says does paint her as similar to Harry.

She was talented and bright. Slughorn, who thought Tom Riddle, considers Lily Potter one of the brightest students he ever thought. She was in no way mediocre.

She was charming and had a firey personality to her. She was enthusiastic and charismatic and was easily likable.

I especially like what Slughorn says about Lily being good for Slytherin. Like Harry, she was likely considered by the hat for both Slytherin and Gryffindor due to her cleverness and bravery being both part of her.

And these cheeky answers Slghorn refers to, are like Harry's. Harry is the cheeky student Slughorn is referring to in the same breath as Lily's. Harry got his sass from Lily, not from James. Harry's tendency to back-talk Dark Lords came from his mom.

She's more scared when she's younger, crying more, but she clearly grows up to be fiercer, as Slughorn mentions and as we see in some of the memories:

“Saved? Saved? You think he was playing the hero? He was saving his neck and his friends’ too! You’re not going to — I won’t let you — ” “Letme? Letme?” Lily’s bright green eyes were slits. Snape backtracked at once.

(DH)

As for the cruel streak I mentioned:

Lily, whose furious expression had twitched for an instant as though she was going to smile, said, “Let him down!”

(OotP)

Lily, even as Snape's best friend, can't help but find the bullying funny for just a moment. It means her sense of humor can be on the crueler side at times. The fact that it's implied, even during SWM that Lily didn't really hate James, just disliked his behavior is quite telling. Like, I don't think he needed to change much for her to go out with him. Sirius even says he mostly just stopped hexing people in the halls. I think he wasn't as arrogant, but he was probably still very egocentric. And Lily liked that (contrary to Harry who'd find it more annoying).

Additionally, when Lily wants to, she knows to hit where it hurts (the Slytherin streak Slughorn talks about?):

“That’s where you’re going,” said Petunia with relish. “A special school for freaks. You and that Snape boy ... weirdos, that’s what you two are. It’s good you’re being separated from normal people. It’s for our safety.” Lily glanced toward her parents, who were looking around the platform with an air of wholehearted enjoyment, drinking in the scene. Then she looked back at her sister, and her voice was low and fierce.“You didn’t think it was such a freak’s school when you wrote to the headmaster and begged him to take you.” Petunia turned scarlet.

(DH)

She knows Petunia and she knows what would hurt/embarrass her the most and she goes for the throat. Even if later she tries to smooth things over with her.

I also wanted to note her wand. Ollivanders said she had a Willow wand, and willow wands have some interesting facts about them:

Willow is an uncommon wand wood with healing power, and I have noted that the ideal owner for a willow wand often has some (usually unwarranted) insecurity, however well they may try and hide it. While many confident customers insist on trying a willow wand (attracted by their handsome appearance and well-founded reputation for enabling advanced, non-verbal magic) my willow wands have consistently selected those of greatest potential, rather than those who feel they have little to learn. It has always been a proverb in my family that he who has furthest to travel will go fastest with willow.

(From Pottermore)

(Ron has a Willow wand too, btw, like the second wand he gets that is really his)

This implies Lily was insecure, and you kinda see it in her behavior as a child. Her deference to Petunia and how many questions she asks Snape:

“Normally,” said Snape. “But you’re Muggle-born, so someone from the school will have to come and explain to your parents.” “Does it make a difference, being Muggle-born?”

(DH)

She is scared, walking up to the sorting hat:

He watched his mother walk forward on trembling legs and sit down upon the rickety stool. Professor McGonagall dropped the Sorting Hat onto her head, and barely a second after it had touched the dark red hair, the hat cried, “ Gryffindor”

(DH)

But the hat placed her in Gryffindor becouse of the bravery was there. The insecurity isn't warranted (according to the wand's description). She had the fire and fierceness there all along. she may thought herself average but it was never true.

The description of the wand also suggests Lily would've been quite good with advanced non-verbal magic, which fits everything I mentioned about her magic being very intuitive like Harry's in the first section here.

So Lily is in no way mediocre and Harry is his mother's son.

[falseroar]

Convinced myself to start rewriting an old fic (one I never shared because I didn’t like the direction it took) instead of finishing the other two fan-related things I’ve been working on, partially because I told myself that at least I had a general idea of how long it would be since I wouldn’t be changing that much in the first half or so of the story.

I finished rewriting the first part of the original 7 today. Original version: 2314 words. New version that ends one scene shy of where the original did: 8337 words. 

(Also for some reason the Jims are here now AND they’re the first named characters in the story, if you don’t count the cat. Who also wasn’t in the original version.)

Even if I go back and trim some stuff down (there’s some stuff that could have just been summarized in a line or two instead of going into detail), this does not bode well, especially for a story I’m not 100% sure I’ll be sold on even after the rewrites. :|

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Chapter 10 done \o/

[deathbxnny]

Maybe a part 2 of the arcane characters saying things they regret, but they're apologizing because I can't live after reading a angst 🫠

Making up with Arcane characters after a bad argument. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Ekko, Sevika x Gn!Reader

(Previous part)

Fine, fine, here is a happy part two guys. Take it as an apology for the tears and pain I've caused.✨️

Content: Swearing, accusations of cheating, slight angst, making up, fluff, potential spoilers for season 2, established romantic relationships, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》VI

She knew that she had fucked up. There was no way to deny or refute it either. And your absence was further proof of that.

You were always there for her, even when things got bad and she became even worse. No matter how much she yelled or drank, you were there afterward to nurture her back to health. It was so unfair of her to expect it still, after all she had said to you. She hated herself. She hated how weak and pathetic she had become. How she can't even stand straight anymore from the alcohol and couldn't win a single game since she had lost you.

And instead of Caitlyn haunting her like she used to, it was only you now. But you were crying every time. Asking her why she hated you so much. Why she couldn't care for you the way you cared for her. Why you were always the second choice despite having been there since the start.

Why, why, why.

Gritting her teeth against the headache, she made her way through the dark, familiar lanes to your small home that you once shared together. She had to talk to you. She really, really had to. Even if it's far too late now after a week of silence in-between the two of you. She had taken the time to reflect and think about everything, especially about your relationship. And it made her realise that nothing in this world was losing you too.

Knocking on your door, she nervously waited as she heard your footsteps quickly approaching her from inside. You opened the door carefully, ironically just how she had taught you, before freezing at the sight of her. She gave you a weak smile, attempting to look calm and friendly, but it still scared you off. "Hey cupca-" You tried slamming the door into her face mid greeting, but her foot was faster to jam itself in the way.

"H-Hey! Wait, please hear me out!" "Fuck off, Vi. I'm not in the mood to hear more of your bullshit. Go back to Caitlyn since I know how badly you want that!" You never cursed, and every word you spoke made her flinch. She, for some reason, didn't expect you to be this mad. But it hurt, and she deserved it. Another thing she underestimated was, unfortunately, your strength since you somehow managed to push her away and shut the door again. "Come on! Please! I... I didn't mean what I said. I just... have been losing my shit ever since what happened. The guilt is killing me, and I know it's not an excuse! You're right, I have to stop this shit! You're right, I need to stop treating your love for granted!"

She didn't know if you were even listening to her anymore, but it didn't stop the tears that burned in her eyes. "I don't give a damn about Caitlyn like that! I never did! It always you for me. You... you cared for me when no one else ever wanted to, and I was such an idiot for not appreciating it more." Her hand slammed against the wood in defeat, her head coming to rest against it as her body trembled. She was so scared of losing you. This can't be the end. "Please. Please just give me another chance to prove myself. I know I'm a fuck up but I swear I'll do better now."

Vi nearly fell right through your house entrance when you opened the door wide with a teary huff. "God, you're such an idiot... get in already before the neighbors complain." You didn't let her reply as you simply dragged her inside and locked the door again. The pitfighter watched you do so with a gentle gaze, one that felt so familiar to you. "... Fine, I'll give you another chance... but no drinking or fighting anymore. Please." You whisper to her, and she nods quickly before engulfing you in a warm hug.

She knows that she isn't fully forgiven yet, but she'll do everything in her power to prove herself worthy of your love again.

》CAITLYN

"You're still up." Caitlyn's voice was calm and gentle now, so different from the stern and cold tone it had before. You ignored her, however, knowing better than to fall for this again. She always got like this when she knew she had screwed up and was trying to crawl back into your good graces. But this time around, you didn't allow it that easily. You refused to speak to her if she hadn't come back to apologize. And yet... you couldn't help but allow yourself at least one sharp dig at her. "And you're late to bed once again. But I suppose Officer Nolan's 'report' was just that interesting, no?" You were perhaps the only person in all auf Pultover that could ever accuse her of something so scandalous as adultery and get away with it.

It certainly would have been amusing if Caitlyn didn't feel so sick at the thought of you believing that.

Sighing, she placed her hat onto a clothing hanger, her jacket following suit. You were facing away from her on the bed, trying to read a book and rest, despite the pain in your heart. It was hard being angry at her when you loved her so deeply. But her insults had struck much deeper than that.

The bed dipped behind you, and soon enough, you felt her strong arms surrounding your body and her nose tickling your cheek. "I'm sorry, my love. I really am. I... have lost my cool, and that was wrong of me." You scoffed at her words, finding them too shallow for the pain she had caused earlier. Yet you struggled to get out of her strong grasp on you. It felt desperate. And you hated the warmth and security that it made you feel. "If that is all you have to say, then you can leave." You hissed out weakly but couldn't find any malice in it. Just heartbreak, that solidified in more tears burning in your eyes. "Because how... how could you ever say that I could betray you? Do you know how that makes me feel? Do you care?"

Caitlyn hummed against the nape of your neck soothingly, a way to acknowledge the plight she had caused you without revealing her own tears. The grief had made her into a monster. A monster that hurt its friends, family, and most importantly, you. It was unforgivable, and yet she wanted to prove herself worthy of you anyway. She wanted to show you that she hadn't changed deep down like everyone claimed. She was still yours.

"... I will find a way to end this war and resolve it peacefully as soon as I can. I swear it to you." She began, her voice low and gentle, as she listened to the sound of your hiccups and sniffling. This wasn't what she wanted. "And I apologize, truly, for what I called you... I know that you are loyal and trustworthy. Much more than I ever could be... I'm still your Caitlyn." The last part was whispered quietly, as she tried everyone in her power to not break down in front of you like this.

She hated what she had become deep down. She knew it was wrong and that her mother must've been turning in her grave at the sight of what she had done. But what she couldn't handle at all was you hating and leaving her.

There was a moment of silence before you turned to face her and immideatly hugged her impossibly close as you cried into her arms. She rubbed your back lovingly, understanding that this was your way of accepting her apology. But forgiveness will still be a long journey she was willing to take.

For now, she'd rest in your embrace thankfully.

》JINX

Deep down, you knew that she didn't mean what she said. She never would do anything to hurt you. Silco's death was just killing her more than anyone could have expected, and it was hard for everyone to deal with. But you just couldn't take the pain and hurt she caused you anymore. You've been there since day one. You were always at her side. You always took care of her when no one else wanted to. And you understood her better than she did herself. But it was ultimately just not enough. Or so you thought.

The young girl that was now dragging you through the lanes reminded you of her too. She didn't speak a word to you, and for some reason, you didn't have it in you to protest against her odd actions either. She somehow seemed to recognize you the second you bumped into her. And that was enough for her to take your hand and lead you to a very familiar hideout. Perhaps it was fate that brought you here again when you needed Jinx the most.

"Hey kid, who's our little guest-?" The rest of the young woman's words died on her tongue, and it left you simply staring at each other. There was a familiar haze in her eyes, one that you often saw when the voices were taking over. She once mentioned that you sometimes became a part of her hallucinations during longer absences, and that reminder alone made your heart ache. You shouldn't have run away that day. But what other choice did you have? She didn't trust you anymore. She didn't think you should be together anymore. Why were you even here?

"S-sorry... I'm just going to leave..." You muttered as your ears rung and that familiar burning in your eyes made your sight blurry. You felt suffocated and somehow also angry, wishing she could just see how much you loved and cared for her. But just as you were turning away to run again, her strong hand was quicker and held you back by your arm. "Wait. Let's just... talk, alright? Like we always do?" That was your thing. Whenever things got bad, you'd sit down and talk calmly to her about it. She used to scoff at it every time... yet she was the one who suggested now for once. Something about it shook you so hard that it made the first tears finally spill at the recognition she had given you for all the work you've put into her.

Jinx panicked a little at that, unsure of how to comfort you, yet at Isha's stern frown and cross of her small arms, she just hugged you for the first time in a while. And god, did she miss it.

Perhaps it was good to show the little girl a picture of you after all.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, I swear, sweetie! I... I won't ever say stuff like that again. Just don't leave me. Please don't leave me. I just, I was just-" You hushed her by just hugging her tighter and shaking your head. "It's okay... just hold me for a while. We can talk later... I missed you so much." You whispered, voice breaking into sobs. Jinx hummed weakly and sighed against your hair, the familiar scent making her relax and feel better at last.

Isha grinned to herself behind you before quickly sneaking off to let you talk things out.

》EKKO

To say that the entire firelight hideout was pissed at him would be an understatement. Absolutely everyone disagreed with the way he treated you, and the side eyes he got very much confirmed this. But the worst part of it all was definitely you avoiding him like the plague.

Every time he entered a room, you were the first one to leave in a hurry. Every time he tried speaking to you, you either ignored him or found an excuse to get away. Every time someone even mentioned his name to you, your mood seemed to dampen. And that hurt so much that it killed him. This isn't how he wanted you to feel about him. He was your boyfriend, damnit it. Yet he acknowledged that he was failing at his job way more than he should've allowed himself to. He had to fix this somehow.

Ekko couldn't just lose you over his own foolishness. You were the one person who motivated him to keep going even on his worst days. You were the light he fought for. The person he battled to come home to every day. He couldn't handle your absence any longer, especially at night when he laid wide awake in your empty bed without you.

And so, he finally had enough and cornered you one night up in the tree during a patrol you had together. One, he definitely didn't pull the strings for to happen. And ever the one to abide by his orders despite your current dismay, you were now avoiding his gaze whilst you watched your sleeping home below. It was peaceful and calm, but the pain lingered between you two too much to enjoy the moment. He didn't know how to break the deafening silence, and it made him think of backing out on his initial plan... until you surprised him by speaking up first.

"I'm... sorry for avoiding you. I didn't mean for this to become your last resort. I just... didn't want to be a burden anymore." "Wait, wait, wait... who said that you were a burden, I... I should be the one apologizing right now. Because I was wrong about every fucking thing I said to you." The words spilled out in panic at the mere thought of you blaming yourself. He never wanted you to feel like this. It made him feel even worse about himself. This wasn't right. "You're not useless. You do so much for us, for me, and I take it all for granted like the asshole I am! And I fully acknowledge that now... I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. There is no excuse for it." He shook his head in disappointment at himself, wondering if this was it now. He'd understand if you broke up with him now... but instead, you seemed to be in the mood to surprise him alot today.

"Did you... like the food I made you?" He blinked at your question in confusion, yet answered honestly. "Best thing I had all week." "Then I guess I'll forgive you... just don't do that again." Ekko chuckled weakly at your words, relief filling his senses whilst he pulled you close to press a kiss to your head. "Would never dream of it... wanna ditch patrol and fly around town?" You mirrored his sly smile, glad he had the same thing on his mind as you did. "Sure thing. But let's make it a race."

He let you win.

》SEVIKA

She took some time to cool off after your argument and returned later into the night with a clearer mind. Sevika had actually reflected on what you had said to her, and she knew you were ultimately right. She was extremely overprotective and stubborn, two things that didn't mesh well and often ended in her thinking you couldn't take care of yourself. Even if she knew better than to actually believe that.

You were strong, especially mentally. It's what drew her into you to begin with. But with the fall of Silco and a war being on the verge of breaking out against Piltover, she had no choice but to make sure that you never left her sight. And if you did, then you had to be somewhere she knew was safe and away from all the chaos she dealt with daily. It helped her focus and stay calm to know that you're okay. Yet despite how much she cared, she still fucked it all up for herself again.

And now she had to fix it, something she was never good at.

She felt awfully guilty at the sight of the things you've lovingly prepared for her, now laying forgotten and cold on the kitchen counter. She truly didn't deserve someone as kind as you. And yet she considered herself too selfish to let you go.

Slowly approaching the bedroom door, she paused to hear if you were awake or not. Unfortunately, you were, but she only knew this from the faintest sound of your sniffling and sobbing that drifted through the wooden door. Sighing to herself, she knocked once, deciding to just rake things slow and as calmly as possible. You had sustained an injury after all, and her mind was reeling at the thought of it getting worse without any proper care. "What do you want?!" Your weak voice yelled at her, and it made her frown. Yeah, you were definitely beyond pissed.

"I want to talk." Her gruff voice said, and it may have sounded like a demand if the underlying care and worry didn't overshadow it so clearly. Your silence made her initially think you were ignoring her until the door slowly opened and revealed your disheveled form. "... well, go ahead." You muttered, one hand cradling the side of your hip that was clumsily bandaged up by you. You were never good at stuff like that.

"Let me take care of the wound whilst we're at it. Can't have ya dying on me because of an infection." She sighed out before simply dragging you to your shared bed and pulling out your medkit. You didn't protest or complain and let her do as she pleased, whilst you carefully listened to her speak with an unreadable expression.

"Listen. I... get it. I really do. The way I treat you isn't right, and I know you're grown enough to take care of yourself, but... I can't risk losing you too now. It drives me crazy to think about. Even if that ain't much of an excuse, and I get that too." She was never this honest before. Usually, she simply deflected or blamed someone else. But here she was, for once admitting openly to being the problem. "Just... be more careful out there. That's all I ask of you. I won't comment on it otherwise anymore though, unless you're in serious danger. I promise." Finishing the last of her bandaging, she hummed at it now looking much securer. This way, you are sure to recover much faster.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded your head at her words, deciding to give her another chance to prove herself. You understood where she was coming from after all. "Okay, fine. I'll accept your apology... if you help me cook." She grinned at that slightly with a casual shrug. "Fine by me, if I get a taste of your heavenly cooking, sweetheart."

[envy-of-the-apple]

Sun Eats Moon

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word count: 9.1k

Part two: Earth Kills Moon

Part three: Moon Starves Sun

Synopsis: Your boss takes on Gojo Satoru as his newest client. Much to your relief, he doesn't seem to recognize you.

(Warnings: noncon, dubcon, rough sex, oral sex, bullying, harassment, one mention of choking, penetrative sex, afab!reader, coercion, forced relationships, implied baby trapping attempt, hint of pregnancy kink)

You wanted to quit the second you read the name. 

You should have. It would have been so easy to hand in your two weeks, tell your boss that you just couldn't. Or maybe you could have convinced one of the other paralegals to take your place. 

It's pathetic. Almost a decade had passed and you still felt yourself slink into the girl you once were, rolling under his thumb, utterly helpless. You should be better than that. You worked so hard to reach where you are now. 

You were different now, you told yourself over and over again. You were older, smarter. Besides, it'd been a decade, would he even remember you?

It's Higuruma who notices your restless fingers. You shouldn't have underestimated him, despite how exhausted he looks, nothing goes past your boss. He asks about it when you two are seated in a beige room, waiting for the client. 

"Is everything alright?" 

You're still staring out the window. How high were you? 16 stories, maybe even higher. Resentment, you can feel it rise up your throat, build throughout your body. Of course, he has fancy cars, pretty buildings, and limitless money. Men like him will never know what it's like to have nothing. All men were born equal. What a fucking joke. 

Higuruma shifts, and you jolt out of your thoughts. "Yes," you console, "apologies, I'm just tired." 

The lawyer hums, and you're not sure if he believes you or not. Before he can say anything, the frosted doors open. The rest of the legal team comes in, sitting at the long table you and Higuruma inhabited. 

He comes in last. He'd always had a liking for theatrics. 

Not much had changed within a decade. He was taller, bigger. He'd switched out of his high school uniform, opting for something more business-friendly. He still made heads turn. Became the center of attention. 

It's his smile that throws you. Sincere, real. Lingering on his face like extravagant jewelry. Hard not to notice. 

You react better than you anticipated. You don't shake or tremble or cry when he passes you. You just squeeze your fists, bunching your skirt in your palm. It helps. 

He sits down, right at the end, so everyone can see him. One foot elegantly crossed over the other. When he tilts his head, his soft white hair threatens to shift over brilliant blue eyes. 

"Well, I'm sure you don't need me to explain why we're all here." A few chuckles resonate from the small group. "Let's just do our best and hope nothing gets too out of hand."

His eyes slide over to meet yours, and you steel yourself for his eyes to widen. For something wicked and cruel and nasty to sink into his face. 

Nothing. 

Gojo Satoru maintains that same smile. The blaring sun. Painfully innocent. His gaze lasts barely a second before moving to the next face, and the next, and the next. 

"I look forward to working with all of you."                                     

𖤓

If you could describe Gojo Satoru in one word, it would be: celestial. 

He's like a shining star. Brighter than the sun. Everywhere he went, he was bound to attract attention. Much like how the Earth is drawn towards the sun, people are drawn towards Gojo Satoru. It's the natural order. 

But, if an insignificant planet resists the Sun's gravitational force, it'll get crushed. You learned this the hard way. 

Gojo had always been in your class for years. The third year was no different. Despite the commonality, you two never talked to each other. You had no reason to. Until the vending machine gave you two cartons, and you suddenly remembered from an overheard conversation that Gojo liked chocolate milk too. 

"Want it?" You hold it out to him during lunch break. He was in the middle of a boisterous conversation with his friend. They did intimidate you, but you had no reason to be scared. It's not like they were bullies.

Gojo's sunglasses dip down. He eyes what you're holding in your hand, before his gaze drifts back up to you. 

"The machine gave me extra," you supply, "do you want it?" 

"Oh, sure," he says after a moment. Your hands brush. "Thanks." 

You nod, and then you walk back to the cafeteria. It was meaningless. A favor between acquaintances. He was helping you more than you helped him. You didn't want to carry chocolate milk around in your backpack. You forgot about the interaction within a few hours. 

𖤓

The meeting ends hours later. When you stumble home, it's barely evening but you can still feel the stress creeping through your legs and arms. 

You go straight to your laptop. Fumbling through the keyboard, desperate, searching. 

He's famous. Of course, he is. In his mid-twenties, but already a multi-millionaire. The head of an extremely elite family. Your eyes scan picture after picture after picture. Photos of him drinking with models in skimpy bikinis. Fancy cars. Huge houses. Private jets. Gojo Satoru: the man behind Gojo Co., Gojo Satoru and supermodel Menza hinted at relationship, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru. 

You pull away when it starts to burn, when the rage and sorrow become too much. He has everything. Everything he could want. He made you go through hell for months, and yet he never got punished for it. The universe rewards him with lavishness you'd never be able to touch. 

It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fucking fair. 

Through your blinds, the sun happily shines. 

𖤓

You don't notice it until it becomes painfully unbearing.

Gojo calls you by your name now (until that day you bet he didn't even know you existed). He's like a ghost, constantly appearing out of nowhere to sling an arm around your shoulder, eager to chase off any of your friends to talk to you about things that don't matter.

He constantly offers to walk you home (and then Gojo ignores your refusals and does it anyway). It stays like that for a few days, never bordering beyond friendliness. You think he's harmless. Maybe he just hasn't had someone genuinely do a nice favor for him. Besides, you're flattered by the attention. Even you can be swayed by the pull of Gojo Satoru. It feels nice to be wanted. 

You reason it'll just be for another week. A week later, you two will be nothing but acquaintances, sometimes exchanging quick smiles during class. 

It doesn't truly dawn on you as to what he's doing until he comes out and says it. 

"What?" Because you must have misheard him. 

"We should," he says, not even bothering to repeat himself, "I mean, we're practically dating already. Let's just make it official." 

You stare at him. As always, he's utterly beautiful. The light of the setting sun makes his skin glow gold. Whenever he's walking you home is one of the rare times he removes those sunglasses. His eyes are like jewels, pretty things that you wish were yours. 

You laugh. It's high and panicky because you still think he's joking. He doesn't laugh with you. You stop. 

"Oh-oh, I'm sorry Gojo-I wasn't-I didn't think. I'm just not...interested in dating anyone right now. It's not you! I think-I think you're great, but it's just the wrong time, and school is getting so much busier and-" you keep rambling, coming up with excuse after excuse because you're convinced Gojo would cut you off with an awkward laugh, tell you it's fine. 

He doesn't do either, letting your flounderings get more and more pathetic. His smile had dropped. You can't read his expression anymore. 

Eventually, you grow quiet, standing with him in that silence. When that gets too much, you timidly tell him to have a goodnight and walk home. He doesn't follow, staying rooted to the sidewalk where you left him. You're not running away, you tell yourself over and over again. And yet, you can't help but feel relief as soon as you can't feel his eyes. 

Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you. 

𖤓

It was something minuscule. 

Barely considered legal work. The case would most likely be finished in a couple of weeks. The defendant had nothing on Gojo Satoru, at least from what you and the other paralegals could see. You highly doubted it would even go to court. Higuruma always had a knack for bringing anyone to the table. Gojo would be let off from whatever he did without a hitch. No punishment. Just like always. 

"Word of advice, don't think about what happens in the private sector," Higuruma says, over whiskey. 

The firm was celebrating another victory at a fancy bar. You were still stewing over the face of that young woman's face when the judge ruled in your client's favor. She looked heartbroken. You can still remember the sleazy smile your client had given her. 

"It's a job," he says, "do it. Boost your resume, and get out." 

He takes another dainty sip of his glass. Tonight, the circles underneath his eyes seem even darker. "You're a young kid. Do something else with your life." 

When he offers to buy you a round, you accept. You think about that night sometimes, and you wonder if Higuruma wished someone else would have given him that advice when he was younger. 

Do the job, and get out. Easier said than done. Especially when the job involved Gojo Satoru. 

Associating with him was dangerous, you knew that firsthand, especially when he was interested in something you had. You'd left, but that wouldn't save you. The space of decades would not help. 

Burn Gojo once, he won't forgive you. Burn Gojo twice? You don't think there's anyone alive who did that. 

Over the coming days, you expect something from him. It's a nagging feeling in your stomach. The delayed response to a gunshot. Dread. You expect him to snap. Push. Break. 

He never does. Gojo remains pliant, the same to you as he remains to your boss. There's no additional touching, no disgusting nicknames, no scathing looks. Nothing. 

You don't get the confirmation until a week later, when Gojo stops you near the elevator. 

"Higuruma's...assistant, right? Sorry, never got your name," he says, and you steel yourself because the two of you are alone and here it comes but if you yell loudly enough maybe-

"He asked for some paperwork, and I finally found it for him." Gojo hands you a stack of sheets with a cheery smile. "You won't mind giving that to him, will ya? Thanks!" 

Just as quickly as he arrives, he leaves, shoes clicking down the hall as he goes. You can only stare at his rescinding back, the palpable feeling of relief nearly making your knees buckle. 

The best news you could have possibly received. Gojo Satoru had completely forgotten about you. 

When you got home later that evening, the rain was heavy, and the sun was nowhere to be seen. 

𖤓

You don't have proof it was him. 

It's unjust to accuse people of things they didn't do. You lack any evidence. It could have easily started by itself. You'd always been meek and timid. People were bound to take advantage of that. 

But the timing was just too perfect for it to not be caused by him. 

In the weeks following the incident with Gojo, school went from tolerant to hell. It started small, at first. Tiny. Unoticable. Insignificant. Some people (Gojo's lackeys, you'd later realize), would nudge you as they passed you by the halls. They apologized, mid-laugh, and in the beginning, you truly thought they were sincere. Then, the nudges turned into pushes, then shoves. That's when you knew you had a target on your back. 

At first, you found it kind of hard to believe. Bullying? It sounded so childish. Something reserved for petty middle schoolers. You were in your final year of high school. You were already an adult. You laughed it off, for a bit. Mostly because it was so ridiculous. Only when it starts becoming more severe, more apparent that you were his target, do you start taking things more seriously.

There was no proof, but everyone knew it was Gojo. And being on Gojo's bad side wasn't something people were willing to risk. One by one, your friends started to disappear, reducing their involvement by sending strained smiles during passing period. The more stubborn ones who were more adamant about staying by your side were chased away too. They'd skip school for a few days, before coming back and completely ignoring you.

Teachers and staff were no help either. Why would they? Gojo's family held them in the palm of their hand. The most your homeroom teacher would do was avert his eyes whenever something was thrown at you for the third time in class, and quietly remind students to settle down. 

You fell on the ground with an embarrassing thump. A chorus of laughter, and a mocking 'sorry' is all you hear from the crowd. Other students step over your scattered papers, giving you looks of sympathy but never bothering to help. You'd call them cowards, but you know you'd do the same.

Instead, you focus on collecting your papers. You avoid the lump in your throat. The tears that threaten to break over your waterline. It's humiliating, being stuck on the floor like this. It's only Wednesday, but you already feel like breaking.

Hands, scarred, move past you, collecting the rest of the sheets. His face is carefully blank as Geto Suguru neatly tucks his share all in one piece before handing it to you. You give your thanks. He ignores it. 

“Are you hurt?” Geto asks, his voice barely loud enough to hear.

You think you scrapped your knee during the fall, but other than your pride, you're fine. You shake your head. Geto sighs. It's not out of relief.

“That's good,” he says anyway.

You found it ironic that Gojo's best friend is the only one who bothers to help you these days. It makes sense, in a way. It's not like he'll send his goons to Geto, instead. In this solar system, Geto Suguru is the only person unaffected by Gojo's solar flares. 

You work in relative silence, collecting the mess that fell out of your bag. Geto hands you the last of the supplies, idly watching as you tuck them away.

“Take my advice,” he says just before he leaves, “give in.”

He stands up. Geto Suguru has always been taller than you, but now the difference feels even worse. When he looks down at you, a flicker of pity lingers in his eyes. It's gone before it can mean anything. 

“It'll only get worse from here if you don't.”

Worse, he had said. God, what could be worse? You were already at rock bottom. All you have left is your dignity. Something you intend on gritting your teeth to keep.

You quickly learned something about Geto Suguru: he knew his best friend. 

Friday. The end of the worst week of your life has finally arrived. The week after is break, and then maybe Gojo will move onto some other hyperfixation, and finally leave you alone.

Classes were out. You were done, free to run home and cry the entire week away. And then, you noticed, your locker was open.

Smashed in, was a better term. Completely, irrevocably, destroyed. It looked like someone had taken a wooden bat to repeatedly smash in the metal until it cracked open like an egg. 

You don't want to look, but you have to. The busted door is barely hanging on its hinges when you push it open. 

It's worse than anything you could think of. 

Your books, textbooks, journals, are all torn apart and written on. All the contents of your bag have been thrown around. Your assignments, your notes, your pens and pencils. But it's your laptop that makes your throat stop. Smashed, broken without any hope of being salvageable. Your everything was in there. Why why why would he do this to you? 

This wasn't bullying. 

This was abuse. 

Fuck pride. Fuck dignity.

You were so tired. 

Despite the hell his lackeys put you through. Gojo Satoru himself never bothered you. In fact, you hadn't seen him all week. He doesn't make himself impossible to find. You know where his group hangs out after school. You're barely holding yourself together when you hear his voice. His pretty laugh. You don't care about how you look, close to breaking, your voice high-pitched and shaky. 

"Why?" 

Your voice catches his attention. He falls into silence, just like the rest of the group. Gojo surveys you for a moment. There's a scoff, a hint of amusement before he waves off the rest of the group. 

"Get lost." 

They comply, dispersing in multiple directions. For the first time, in a long while, you and Gojo are left alone. You and Gojo are left, alone. 

"Well?" he tilts his head, completely bored. 

"What do I have to do?" You ask desperately, "What-what do I have to do to make this all stop? Please I'll-I'll do anything, just-just make it-" 

It's all too much. You can't hold your sobs in, bursting into tears as you fumble through your words. He tuts in mock pity. You flinch when you feel his hand against your cheek, but he doesn't let you shy away. 

"Anything?" He asks when your sobs simmer into hushed whimpers, "Really? Anything?" 

You blink, looking up at him with rough teary eyes. He's grinning, wide and manic. Your heart drops when he lowers himself to whisper in your ear. 

"Anything, right?" 

You nod once. He sighs in pure delight. His breath tickles your cheek. 

"Get on your knees." 

You jerk back, but Gojo doesn't let you go far, a hand on your shoulder, keeping you rooted on the spot. At your look of pure panic, he only laughs a little. 

"I-I-Gojo you-" 

"And call me Satoru now. Since we're gonna get to know each other a lot better," he interrupts with a chiding grin, ignoring your wide eyes. "What? I thought you said anything, right?" 

He's asking, but it's clear you don't get a choice anymore. His grip on your shoulder is tight, close to crushing skin and bone. You're trapped. No, you were trapped the moment you talked to Gojo Satoru. 

To think this all started because of two cartons of chocolate milk. 

You relent when his grip gets too painful, sinking down to your knees. The grass is cool, and you know it will leave damp spots on your skirt, letting everyone know what you did for him. 

"Good girl," he coos, and you shudder at his hand petting your hair. Like you're some precious pet. To him, maybe you are. How could anyone think of treating a human like this? You should be grateful he does it for you, instead of demanding you to pull him out. Still, the jiggle of his belt makes you wince. You turn away, not being able to bring yourself to look. Only when the tip of his cock reaches your peripheral, do you look back. It's big. You should have expected it, considering his height. It's already leaking, a bead of precum that makes you shudder. He moves forward and you instinctively grip his thigh. 

"Gojo I-" 

"Nuh-uh. Satoru," he ununciates, "Satoru. You gotta' start listening to me baby, or else we're gonna have problems." 

You look down at the grass. Green, soft. 

"Satoru." 

His eyes flash in satisfaction. 

"Open up, pretty girl." 

The last of your fight disappears, sinks into the soft grass. You swallow, once, before you take him. It's a slow, torturous process. He's too big, your jaw is already starting to ache. Satoru barely notices your discomfort, sighing in contentment when you start to gag on his cock, reaching down to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. 

You make a muffled gurgle and he tilts his head down. His sunglasses fall forward, two pretty eyes stare at you. 

"What? Don't act like this is your first time-" he stops himself, mid-thought. 

"Wait...this can't be your first time, right?" 

If you weren't humiliated enough. You can't even lie, averting your eyes to avoid any further shame. 

"Poor baby," Satoru says, all too delighted, "lemme' walk you through it. Gotta' suck on it, just like a lollipop-that's it-use your tongue," he encourages, still gripping his cock in his hand, like he was feeding it to you. 

You can feel your mouth open wider. Tears stream down your face, not just from your pride, but also from pain. Satoru lets you take him in like this for a few more moments, just enjoying your warm mouth. 

"There we go," he breathes, "take-fuck-take all of me." 

But Satoru isn't known for his patience. You've barely taken all of him in yet before he grabs your hair to fuck your throat properly. You choke, sputtering all over his cock. He barely pays you any mind, his head thrown back as he rams himself down your mouth without a care in the world. 

"Y'know, our first time together could-could have been nicer," he says through gritted teeth, the heat was starting to get to him, "but you just had to go and mess it up, huh?" 

If you were stronger. If you were braver. You would have rejected it. Screamed. Fought. At the very least, you would have denied his delusions. But you weren't strong. You weren't brave. You were weak. Stupid. This was all your fault. Had you just given in the moment he asked, this wouldn't be happening to you. Or maybe, he'd be a bit nicer about it. 

He hisses, gripping the back of your head before something warm and disgusting fills your mouth. Above you, Satoru lets out a shameless groan, a mix of your name as well as a curse. He releases you then, finally letting you sink to the floor. You fall forward, resting on your hands and knees, panting, trying to regain your breath, some semblance of sanity. You can still taste him. It's salty, a sickly tang. You spit as much as you can on the grass. It doesn't help. 

He kneels, getting down to your level. With the way he's silently watching you, you know he's waiting for the right answer this time. 

Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you. 

So, you drop your gaze down. You take in a deep long stilted breath. 

"Yes, Satoru," you say, voice quiet, pliant, "I'll go out with you." 

His demeanor drops in just a second. He smiles, painfully innocent, like you hadn't spent the last few moments choking on his cock. He cups your face with both hands and you wonder how he could look at you like that, gently, as though you weren't covered in tears and his cum. 

(You still feel it drip down your mouth. Tonight, when he finally lets you go home you'll cry for hours in the shower, hoping the water will wash away all the shame you feel. It won't.)

"Finally!" He exclaims, laughing, light, happy, elated, "I'm so glad you finally came around. I was starting to think I was ugly or something." 

 You stay like that for a while. Underneath him. You let his hands run up and down your body, like he's feeling the space that makes up you. Soon, you'd realize Gojo Satoru liked to touch things that were beneath him. A thought muddles it's way through your numb brain. You bring yourself to look at him. 

"Satoru?" you ask. He sighs in satisfaction, stroking your hair. 

"My laptop...it's broken." 

You didn't know what else to say. It sounded accusatory, even to your ears. Righteous. You wondered if he heard it too, if he'd do something about it. 

Satoru only scoffs.

“that old thing?” You flinch. It was a gift from your aunt, you highly doubted he cared enough about the sentimental. He hugs you closer, almost like a snake, constricting you within its scales before it devours you. 

(You think the worst part is that he didn't even deny it.)

“I'll just get you a new one, baby.”

He walks you home later that evening. When he demands a kiss, you comply, numbly pressing your aching lips to his. 

The sunset is pretty today. 

𖤓

It's not a particularly hard case, but Gojo has a knack for keeping those who work for him busy. Higuruma had asked you to stay behind, once again. The two of you were stuck alone in the office building, a room that Gojo had graciously supplied. 

You were milling through a stack of papers when someone new walked in. You didn't recognize her. She was tall, pretty, sparkling jewelry littered her neck and wrists. Your eyes drifted up and down her outfit, something that definitely wasn't business-appropriate. A part of you wants to ask where she got that lipgloss from. 

"Oh," she tilts her head, surveying the two of you with pretty eyes, "is Sato not here?" 

You inwardly cringe at the nickname, but choose not to show it. Higuruma is the one who saves you, in the end. He speaks on both of your behalf. 

"Mr. Gojo isn't here at the moment," he says, "feel free to wait." 

She does as she's told, plopping down on a seat right next to her. Higuruma goes back to ignoring her, dutiful in everything like he always is. You, on the other hand, don't like the way some of the other associates eye her legs. When you wordlessly hand her your jacket, she gratefully accepts. 

"Thanks. I love your bag, by the way," she cheerily says and a part of you feels bad for her. 

Minutes pass. She crosses her legs and then uncrosses them. When she crosses them again, you have to look up from your paperwork and ask if she's feeling alright. 

"Just nervous," she admits, "I-I haven't seen Sato since our...last meeting." 

Everyone in the vicinity knows this wasn't a casual business meeting, you don't get why she's avoiding the elephant like that. Probably to save face. It's clear from her behavior that she wasn't expecting so many visitors, so perhaps this situation is new for her. You found it strange that a booty call would be called up to an office building, especially when people were clearly watching, but you doubted Mr. Gojo cared about that. He was always shameless in that regard, uncaring about anyone's reputation, even his own. That's why he's in this legal mess in the first place. Besides, you were part of Gojo's Satoru's legal team. Part of your job is to be discreet about his extracurricular affairs. 

Gojo Satoru hadn't changed at all since high school. Why would he? His personality has gotten him this far, after all. The Sun would never change, it's a constant sphere of fire. You wouldn't want him to change. You were banking on his stagnant nature to slip by. You couldn't imagine if he did change, improve himself, and realize how horrible he'd been to you. How would you be able to keep yourself together if he pulled you aside one day and tried to apologize? You'd break. Things are better the way they are now. Let Gojo Satoru indulge himself in all this lavishness, forgetting about the people he's tortured. It's better this way. 

You glance over at the girl. She's young, maybe a couple of years younger than you. You can see the flush on her cheeks. The clear swooning. A part of you wonders what she'd think about that man if you ever told her what he did to you. What a monster he is-

"There you are!" Mr. Gojo strides in, just as silent as always, making himself known when he wants to. 

The girl jumps up, her eyes lighting up in pure excitement as she practically drags herself into Mr. Gojo's arms. He places an arm on the small of her back, scarily close to touching somewhere inappropriate as she chatters away. They disappear off to wherever rich men like him go. 

It's so quick. You must have imagined it because, for a second, you were sure he'd glanced back at you. 

𖤓

By now, everyone knows you're Satoru's. That means, like him, you're untouchable. 

You're not celestial. If Satoru was a star, then you were a stray meteor he'd found hurtling through space, and he couldn't resist forcing it to revolve around him. In exchange for suffering through his solar flares and radiation, he protects you from bigger planets that are all too eager to smash into you. The one relief is that no one seems to bother you anymore. You haven't been shoved around, pushed, or prodded. Sometimes, you receive glares from Satoru's old ex's, but it's more tolerable than burnt homework. 

Satoru has officially chased away all your friends, but he's more than happy to keep you company. You sit next to him in lunch now, quietly listening as he prattles on to the rest of his friends (you recognize some of them, the ones who messed with you, they never seem to hold your gaze for long). You used to study on campus alone, right after school let out. Now, you still do it, but with Satoru watching. It's hard to concentrate with his wandering fingers and wet lips. 

He takes all of your firsts. You don't give them to him, much less, he demanded it of you. The first time he fully takes you is far less romantic than you'd ever hoped. It was on his bed after he'd practically dragged you over to his house that night. You went home the next day covered in marks that took nearly a week to heal. A little while after that, Geto came to talk to you again. For the second time ever. 

"Here." He offers you a packet. Pills. You're confused for a moment until you realize Satoru didn't wear a condom. 

"Thank-" 

"Don't," he cuts you off, "Don't thank me." 

He says it with so much hate that you think it's directed at you. It isn't until years later that you realize the disgust was towards himself. 

There are theories that the Moon once had color. 

It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The sun didn't help. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection. 

When the moon was out, you often stared at it, reveling in its beauty. Now, trapped in between Satoru's arms, you find its skeleton a bit too haunting to look at. 

Three more weeks. Just three more weeks. 

Graduation is coming up soon. You already had your college picked out, far far away from this backward town. From his conversations, Satoru was planning on going to some high-end college in Tokyo. With the way he kept looking back at you, you had a feeling he was planning on dragging you there too. 

You were intelligent enough to keep your mouth shut about your plans. Satoru never asked, so you guessed he assumed you would let him bully you into whatever he wanted. He was right, so far. It's not like you'd ever argued with him. 

Your parents were the only people who knew about your plan. They were excited, albeit for the wrong reasons. 

"I'm so glad to see you're this interested in higher education," your mother beamed, "why the sudden change?" 

You look at your mother's face. People have told you that you share the same smile. You wonder if she'd keep smiling if you ever told her about what Satoru's been doing to you, the bullying, the harassment. 

You can't. You won't, because you can't bear to see her give you the same pitiful look your classmates give-the one Geto gives. You don't want her to see you as something broken. 

"I'm just starting to think I might go into law," you finally say, "definitely need college for that."

On Thursdays, you have to sit inside the gym during Satoru's basketball practice. You wait on the bleachers, reviewing notes, and listening to the squeaking of sneakers. Satoru's good at the sport. You know last year they won a few tournaments. Whenever he scores a point, he gives a cheer, turning back to see if you saw it too. In those moments, you remember he's just a kid. He's your age. You can feel the envy. There, but too insignificant to do anything. He pleasantly lives his childhood, even after he stole yours. 

Practice ends, always a little later than it's officially supposed to. Coach gives the final whistle and then Satoru is jogging back to you. Your things are already neatly packed into your bag. His breath is barely ragged, you can smell the hint of sweat as he kisses you on the lips. You can feel eyes on you, same as always. It's getting easier to ignore the gawking. After all, you're Satoru's now. 

"Miss me?" he asks when he pulls away. He grabs your stuff before you can, hauling your backpack away. To others, it may look like he's being a sweet boyfriend. To you, it's another leash, tugging you to where he wants to go. You're not sure how Satoru sees the action. 

You clamber out of the bleachers, following him without a word. Usually, Satoru would walk you home. You'd share a kiss with him on the front porch. And for the rest of the day, he'd finally leave you alone. 

He grabs your hand, shooting you a wink when you lightly jostle into his body. Instead of heading out the door, Satoru turns his gaze towards the empty locker rooms. The light's automated. It flickers an unsettling white, casting a sick glow along the tiles. You are barely through the door before Satoru's pinning you against the lockers, kissing you as aggressively as he can. 

Your hands immediately find their way to his shoulders, squeezing. It's not enough to hurt him, but it grabs his attention anyway. He lets up a little, relaxing into your touch. 

"Sorry, baby," he says not sounding apologetic at all, "just be good f'me, okay? Need you." 

He's pent up, you realize and you look at the door. School's out. The campus is nearly empty. But people are still around. And the door he just shoved you through doesn't have a lock- 

Oh, wait. Would it even matter if someone came in and saw you? Everyone knew you were Satoru's. 

Three more weeks. Just three more weeks. 

He's trailing down, dropping to his knees. He flips up your skirt, pushing aside your panties, and attaches his hot mouth to your pussy. He's ravenous, today. Sucking on your clit like he can't bear to do anything else. You gasp, immediately assaulted by the shocks of pleasure running up and down your back.

You press against the wall, arching your back, giving him even more to suck on. He hums in approval, his voice getting lost in your wet folds. You're practically dripping now, and Satoru, with all his debauchery, gladly licks it all up as you writhe and whimper above him. Your thighs grow tighter around him, threatening to crush his skull if both his hands weren't carved into the fat of your thighs, squeezing. 

Your initial panic is washed away, crumbled by his insistent tongue and fingers. You whimper out his name again as his tongue circles your clit and two fingers continue to move in and out of your sopping pussy. You're crying now, tears of pleasure and brokenness floating down your cheeks. Despite how blurry your vision is, you can see Satoru looking up at you. 

"Getting close?" he's breathless, but there's still a hint of playfulness in his voice, "gonna sing, pretty girl?" 

He gives a particularly hard suck on your clit and you're gone. You seize, throwing your head back as your legs shake from the force of your orgasm. It's a scream, so loud and shameless. Satoru gives a groaned pant, lapping up your aftertaste, making you jolt from the overstimulation before he finally gets to his feet. You watch as he haphazardly wipes the remnants of you with his sleeve before he's kissing you again. 

"Always so sweet f'me," he purrs, biting at your lips before he fumbles with his belt. His cock is already red and strained. He pants, head shifting to fall at the crook of your neck as he lines himself up and sinks into you with one full thrust. 

You whine a mix of a sob and a hissed moan. He hushes you with a stilted breath, barely keeping himself together as he pumps himself into you. Both of you are sweating now. You can feel the beads draw down your neck. He licks at your clavicle, biting when he starts to get more aggressive. When it's too less, he hikes your thigh over his waist, keeping it there so he can go even deeper. 

"Fuck, I'm crazy for you," he slurs against your skin. You can barely pay attention to his words, barely keeping your own voice in check, "’would do anything for you, pretty girl." 

He raises his head, looking you in the eye. His sunglasses have been tossed on the floor. You can his beautiful eyes, two cosmic galaxies of blue. You could stare at them for hours, discovering each variant of cerulean, naming each one. You bet each day you look, you'll find another shade. They're so pretty.

You wonder how pretty those eyes would look floating in a jar. 

"'Toru-!" you gasp when Satoru rocks himself into again, even faster. The name you accidentally gave him when you're too fucked out to comprehend language makes him laugh in pure delight, his smile uncontrolled, delirious. 

"Right here, baby," he moans into your sweaty skin, hand reaching down to rub your clit, "your ‘Toru's right here. Just where you need him." 

His fingers move under your shirt, squeezing at your tits, exploring, roughly grabbing at your chest. The sensation makes you wince. Your walls draw even tighter, choking his cock. 

"Too-too much, 'Toru, p-please." He growls at your begging, burying his face in your neck again. He nips at your damp skin, you flinch. 

"I gotcha' baby," he breathes, "just-just lemme-" He presses on your clit. It's all you need. 

You come with a sob, your pussy squeezing, milking Satoru for all he's worth. He's not too far behind, hips stuttering before he whines in your ear. Something warm fills your cunt. 

You flounder, sagging against the wall. Satoru's the only thing that keeps you upright as you fight to catch your breath. He isn't in any better shape, panting just as hard as you are. He lifts his head, pressing his damp forehead onto yours. There's a dreamy smile on his lips. A look of absolute adoration. 

"I love you." 

You look at him. There's nowhere else to look.

"I love you," he repeats, leaning forward to kiss the corner of your lips. His lips trail down, caressing your cheek, your jaw, your neck. It would almost feel nice, but you can only stare straight ahead. You can see the dull green lockers in the distance. You can smell the mold in the damp locker room. You can feel Satoru's cum slowly seep out of you, trailing down your thigh. 

Fuck three weeks. 

You needed to get out, now. 

𖤓

The only reason you went is because you were told Gojo Satoru wouldn't be there. 

His assistant had off-handily mentioned that he had a meeting on the other side of town. Very last minute. The building as a whole would be empty, just a skeleton crew and a couple of security guards to keep the place running. It made sense, it was 8 pm- long past any proper business hours. 

Higuruma could have easily gone, but it's clear the sleepless nights have been getting to him, or the stress. His paralegal is more than qualified to act like a middleman between him and Mr.Gojo's associates. It's an easy mission. Just grab a few things, and get out. 

Gojo Satoru wasn't supposed to be there. 

And yet, there he was, leaning against the door, blocking you into the room. 

His assistant had always been a mousey thing. Tonight, however, he'd been extra ansty, looking around the room. Babbling out excuses as to what was taking him so long. Now, when he can barely even look at you, you realize he was just a distraction. 

"You're off the clock, Ijichi," Gojo finally breaks the silence, "take tomorrow off too, okay?" 

His assistant quickly nods, keeping his head down to flit out the door. You can't even bring yourself to be mad at him. Gojo always had a habit of singling out the weakest, crushing them within his fist, unless they bent or broke. 

The door shuts with a click. 

"You know, I didn't even recognize you at first," he starts. He takes a small step forward. 

You take one back. He puts his hands up. 

"Okay, don't be like that," he sighs, exasperated, "It's been what, 10 years? How you've been?" 

He steps around you, barely brushing against your shoulder to get to his desk. He reaches down, grabbing a wine bottle and two glasses from a cabinet, setting both down on mahogany wood. 

"Wanna drink? Technically, it's against company policy to serve alcohol in the building but I won't tell if you don't." He grins. It looks bloody. 

He looks so casual, the man who's haunted your nightmares, leaning against a desk in a building he owns. Your heart's beating in your chest. It's so loud. You wonder if he can hear it too. 

When you don't respond, he rolls his eyes. 

"Figures." He pops the cork. "You were always such a stickler for the rules." 

"What do you want?" You ask, your tone weaker than you'd liked. 

"What? Don't you wanna catch up? I missed you." You flinch at his words, looking away. "A paralegal, huh? Gotta' say, wasn't what I expected, but it fits you." It sounds condescending, but you don't poke the bear, opting to stay silent. 

He seems to take an issue with that, regardless. 

"Are you mad? If anything, I should be the one upset at how you just ran off like that. After all that time we spent together too. I didn't even get a breakup text." 

 His last words, send a chill up your spine. A warning. Staying here any longer would be a mistake. 

You go to move. 

Satoru's faster. 

Your head slams against the wall. Hard. Enough to hurt. You struggle anyway, clawing at the hand that's gripping your throat, the body pinning you down. Above you (he's gotten so much taller now), Gojo tuts in disappointment. 

"I tried to be nice and look where that got me. You tried to run again," he muses, like he's disappointed, "I shouldn't be surprised. You've always needed something with a bit more teeth." At his threat, his hand on your throat tightens. You freeze. 

It's barely choking you, but it's enough of a warning. His other hand is playing with the end of your blouse, feeling the fabric. You can feel the tears start. They're a familiar taste. Only this time, they're twinged with bitterness. 

"Don't do this," you whisper, "Don't-don't-" 

"Yeah, I don't think you're in any position to make demands right now." He's grinning, but when you look into his eyes, you can see the anger. A fire that has burned for a decade. At that moment, you realized Gojo Satoru had changed. Now, he was better at hiding how he truly felt. 

You should have quit the moment Higurama got him as a client. 

Gojo's dragging you over to the desk, haphazardly pushing away the stuff already on it. The computer, the bottle, the wine glasses all fall to the floor with a deafening crash as he shoves you down, splaying you across the table. He follows you down, leaning to meet your lips in a frenzied kiss. It's different than all the other times he'd kissed you. He'd lost all the inexperience, more keen on making you stay put and bleed. When you try to turn your face, pushing at his chest, he only growls. A large hand grabs your chin, keeping you in place for him. 

When he pulls away, there's a hint of blood on his plush lips. It's not his. He licks it up regardless. 

You're full-on sobbing now; barely in sucking air as your body shudders and jolts. You don't expect comfort, least of all from him, but he's cooing, wiping away your tears. 

"Missed this," he purrs, ignoring the way you weakly push at him, "'guess that was my mistake. I was expecting you to be different. Nah, you'll be the same crybaby you always were. That's how you managed to slip under my radar." 

He buries his face into your hair, sighing in contentment as you shiver underneath him. His lips graze the crown of your head, a complete juxtaposition to his words. 

"Scream all you want. No one's here, baby." No one's gonna save you from me.

 Still, you try anyway. Your hands grip his broad shoulders, digging in your nails until he hisses. 

"Fuck maybe you have changed." He rasps, fiddling with his belt. "You're bitchier now." 

"Gojo-Gojo what are you-" He bites on your bare clavicle. You squeal, stilling underneath him again. 

"Satoru," he insists. You slump over the desk as he takes both your hands, wrapping his leather belt around your delicate wrists. You wince when he twists it into a knot. The leather bites into your skin. The fight dissolves just as rapidly as it arrived. He hadn't even lifted a finger against you. You were just that pathetic. 

"Satoru," you breathe, waving your flag of defeat. He hums, licking at the bitemark. You can feel the heat bloom on your skin. They'll be a mark tomorrow, and much like Satoru, it would go away so easily. 

"There's my good girl," he groans, cold hands fiddling with the buttons on your blouse, opening it up until your bra pops out, "I know I should be more mad, but I've always had a soft spot for you. Guess things will never change, hm?" 

His mouth dips down, tracing your collarbone to your breasts. He wiggles down your bra, letting your tits spill out and into his hands. He squeezes one while taking another in his mouth, swirling the bud with his tongue before devouring. His moan is barely muffled by your tits. Yours is clear, high-pitched and breathy. Satoru always had no problem being shameless. And he often dragged it out of you too. 

He's mouthing something against your skin, but you're too distracted by his other hand, slinking down your waist, pushing up your pencil skirt, letting it bunch around your hips. In the moment, you chastised yourself for wearing something so easy to get rid of, but it wasn't like you were expecting for him to be here, to bring you down just like he did when you were in high school. It's not like you were expecting to fall. 

Satoru feels around your pantyhose, running up and down your thigh, searching. He squeezes the sheer fabric, before he rips a hole into it. You gasp, jerking at the action. 

"That's-"

"I'll buy you new ones," he says, voice muffled by your tits. The conversation feels familiar. 

He bypasses your panties immediately, finding your pussy with practiced ease. You're already soaking. At this, he raises to look at you. You can't keep eye contact, timidly looking away. He laughs. It sounds sickenly affectionate. 

"You're so cute." He purrs just as he leaves another mark on your chest. Your tits bounce under his attention as he pushes two fingers into your tight sopping hole. Your back curls, arching off the desk as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you. Disgust grows within you, not at him, but at yourself, for letting yourself get this low. This desperate. 

It doesn't stay for long. He's cruel like that, moving in a way that makes you forget your humanity. His fingers get even faster, digging into your cunt and curling somewhere deep inside, hitting a spot that makes you gasp. You're reduced to whimpering moans by the time he finally stops, fingers exiting your pussy with a wet noise. He brings them to his mouth, sucking on his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste. 

"Fuckin' sweet," he moans, taking his fingers out with a sickening pop before wiping the drool on your heaving tits. 

Your eyes float to the window. The moon is out, you blearily realize. It's a blood moon, a rusty red. Once every 3 months, it'll lose its heavenly glow. The innocent milky white will get shadowed by the Earth's rusty atmosphere. It'll regain its color eventually. The Sun doesn't like to be overshadowed. 

Something hard and blunt slides between your legs. You're barely given a second to comprehend it before Satoru grabs you by the hips, filling you up with one thrust. You yelp, a semblance of his name on your lips, but it's shrouded by the moan you give out. 

He stays like that for a bit. You should be grateful he is letting you adjust to him. His cock is sickenly familiar to your walls. Satoru's hair brushes your cheek as he leans up to whisper in your ear. 

"How many?" he sounds like he's gritting his teeth, barely in control, "how many guys have you let fuck you since you ran?" 

You blink, wondering if he's seriously asking, but you can hear the seriousness in his tone. Even now, he's concerned with the wrong things. He's always been petty like that. 

"You," you say because there's no point in lying, "it's only ever been you." 

You say it like it's a curse, because to you, Satoru had cursed you. He'd stolen something you'd never be able to enjoy, devouring it, keeping it for himself. A part of you will always hate yourself for letting him do that, just like a part of you will always be his. 

Satoru deflates, as if he's relieved, easing his face into the crook of your neck, placing an almost loving kiss on your shoulder. He starts slow, slowly drawing his cock out, just until his tip is barely still in, before he pushes himself back into your hole. His pace is slow, controlled. It's different than when he was younger, more eager to get himself off more than anything. Now, it's like he's enjoying the intimacy, the feeling of your walls squeezing him. The wet noises. He's barely affected. Unlike you, writhing underneath him, close to falling apart. It's his length that gets you, forcing your pussy to stretch just to fit him. His cock hits everywhere, all at once, an endless torture of pleasure. 

It takes you a while to get your brain back together, to collect the mush, and realize that Gojo isn't wearing a condom. 

"S-Sato-" You try, just when he spreads your thighs apart, pushing them close to your chest so he can get deeper and kiss you at the same time. His hand slips down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles and you feel yourself getting even closer. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught. 

"Try again," Satoru huffs, "What's my name? I know you know it, pretty girl." 

"'Toru," you beg because it's all you have left. Your breathless gasps make you sound even more unconvincing but you still manage to stutter out, "I'm-I'm not on anything, so-so please-" 

"That's okay," he mutters, though it's clear he's half-listening, "I'll take care of you and the baby."

"No-I-I-can't-" 

He drops his leisure pace in exchange of shorter, faster thrusts. His cock barely leaves your pussy, grinding in your hole as his breathing starts to get a little less controlled. 

"I'll make sure it takes this time too." 

Your eyes open, and you forget your panic to stare at him. You think back to the pills 18-year-old Geto had handed you. Always discreet. You'd...you'd always thought they were Satoru's idea. 

He hits something inside you, right then. You implode, crashing and burning as you gush around his dick. He's not kind enough to ease you through it, ramming his cock even harder inside your battered pussy until he's hunching over you with a shudder. You can feel his cum settle deep inside your womb. 

You stay like that for a few moments, not saying anything. It feels like hours before Satoru is moving again, drawing his softened cock out of your overstimulated pussy. You can feel the cum drip out of you too, spilling onto the desk, but you don't think Satoru's too mad about that. He flicks your clit a few times, watching your hips jerk and you give an exhausted whine. 

He kisses your breasts. He kisses up your jaw, before finding your lips. Dazed, you find yourself kissing back in reluctant acceptance, your body aching for any semblance of gentleness. 

"I love you." 

You look into his eyes, and you realize he's right. Gojo Satoru loves you, and this is how a man like him loves. He meant it, all those years ago, just like how he does now.

Satoru loves like the Sun. Too bright. With enough heat to burn your soul away. It's why you ran. 

"I love you," he repeats like the phrase doesn't kill you each time he says it, "so you're never leaving me." 

"Not ever again."

There are theories that the Moon once had color. 

It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The Sun had eaten it. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection. 

If Satoru was the Sun, then perhaps, you were the Moon. Stripped of your color. Unable to create light of your own. Reflecting only what you're given. 

How foolish of you to think you could ever escape his radiation. 

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 9

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Racism against Illyrians/Lesser Faes?

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Rhys had the seething hot realisation that he had really fucked up on Winter Solstice.

Before that…well. He could still pretend.

Pretend that maybe Azriel just needed time. That he just needed…time to adjust and would get over himself eventually.

Would get over Solstice two years ago. Would get over Mor finding her mate in Emerie… Would get over it all.

That it was just him moping and licking his wounds and he would be back to normal. That maybe he just needed to punch Rhys, get it out of his system and it would be done.

So Rhys had baited him.

Repeatedly.

Azriel didn’t fight. Didn’t protest.

As a boy…Az had attacked snarling and growling, furious and vicious.

Rhys had waited for that same exact result.

Nothing of that sort had happened.

Now…Now Azriel just looked at him, eyes dark and cold…

“Why should I tell you? I may trust you with this court, Rhysand, but I do not trust you with anything I love. Not anymore.”

And then he turned and left. Not giving them a second look. 

Rhys could just stare at him. 

He had expected anger, protests, anything. But this...this was worse.

This was Azriel putting him on notice that he didn't trust Rhys at all anymore.

For a moment it was silent. 

Then Cassian broke it. 

"Give me one good reason, why I shouldn't fucking snap your neck for talking to my brother like that," Cassian seethed. "One reason."

"I didn't...think...

"You didn't think?" Cassian repeated, his voice sharp and incredulous. "Really? You didn't think that your words and actions could have a negative impact on Azriel? You just expected him to be fine after you basically told him that you don't trust him to act like an adult around Elain? That you think Elain and Mor are more important than him? You're unbelievable, Rhys."

"I did what was best for the court," Rhys protested feebly.

"Yes, a spymaster that doesn't trust his High Lord is incredibly good for our court," Cassian agreed with a sage nod, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You told him to go to a fucking pleasure hall and pay for it? You told Azriel of all people that?! What is fucking wrong with you, Rhys?!"

Rhys let out a frustrated sigh. "I was trying to make a point, Cassian," he said. "He wasn't really in love with Elain, he just liked the idea of her."

Cassian gaped at Rhys, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "That's bullshit, Rhys, and you know it," he snapped. "Azriel had feelings for Elain, real feelings. Maybe still has them. Who knows. He was ready to die, so that Lucien could live. He did that for her.  Tell me to my face again that he didn't really love her."

Rhys ran a hand over his face, his frustration clear. "I...I may have underestimated the depth of Azriel's feelings for Elain," he admitted grudgingly. "But my duty as High Lord is to protect my court first and foremost. And I really didn't want to deal with a Blood Duel. Beron was still in play then, before Eris got rid of him. If he got wind..."

"I understand your duties, Rhys," Cassian said, his voice gentler now. "But you went too far this time. You crossed a line, and Azriel feels betrayed and hurt. You dismissed his feelings as if they didn't matter, and that's not right. He's not just your spymaster or soldier, he's your brother."

He was. Which was exactly why Rhys didn't want him anywhere near that particular powder keg at that time. And then Elain had already chosen her mate, and Rhys thought with that...it was done.

"He's just being stubborn. He'll get over himself eventually," Rhys said. Right?

That's how far he got, before Cassian punched him straight into the nose.

Rhys stumbled back, clutching his nose. "What the hell, Cassian?" he demanded, his voice muffled by the blood gushing from his nose.

Cassian stared at him, his expression unreadable. "You are really, really stupid, Rhys. Idiotic. Azriel’s not being stubborn, he's heartbroken. Hurt. Betrayed. And you treat his feelings as if they are nothing!"

Rhys winced, his eyes watering from the pain and the accusation in Cassian's words. "I...I just wanted to protect him. I thought it was for the best..."

Cassian barked out a sharp laugh. "You were doing more harm than good, Rhys. You can't just push someone's feelings aside because it's convenient for you. That's not how relationships work, especially not between brothers."

"And what the fuck were you thinking when you told him to behave about Mor?! Did you ever even consider to maybe try and get Mor to talk to Azriel? That maybe that would be a good solution? Make her apologise for treating him like she did treat him? Azriel had every fucking right to be hurt and angry at her. He would have had every fucking right and Mor would have needed to accept that!"

Rhys winced again. "I...I just didn't want any… arguments, Cassian. Mor and Emerie are happy now. I didn't want to dredge up old hurts and cause tensions within the court."

"So because Azriel keeps his feelings quiet and doesn't complain, you just treated him like shit. Great job, High Lord," Cassian drawled.

Rhys flinched at Cassian's words. Deep down he knew Cassian was right. He had been too focused on preserving the peace and avoiding conflict, that he had overlooked and dismissed Azriel's feelings.

"Azriel has done everyhting in his power to make everybody around him comfortable. Nobody ever does the same for him," Cassian said darkly. "I fucked up too, you know. With Mor. With not being there when I should be...but at least I never told Azriel to Behave like he is either your dog or a child." Cassian shook his head. "I have no fucking clue if you even can fix this, Rhys, even if you wanted to. He clearly doesn't trust you at all anymore."

That had just become very fucking clear. 

"I...I never meant to hurt him," Rhys said, his voice cracking. "I just...I thought I was doing what was best for him. For everyone."

"Azriel was willing to go to war for you," Cassian said sharply. "We both were. We knew that everything involving you and Feyre and Tamlin was a war waiting too happen. But we took that risk. And hwne it was time for you to take that risk for your brother, you chose your court over him, Rhys. I get it. I understand why you did it, even if I disagree...I could forgive you that. BUt you telling Azriel to go to a pleasure hall, because he doesn't know his own feelings..."

Rhys felt the weight of Cassian's words settling in his gut like a heavy stone. He had never considered that his actions could be interpreted that way. "But...you have to understand, Cassian. I have responsibilities, a duty to the Night Court and its people. I have to consider the impact every decision has."

“And in this, you were also Azriel’s brother,” Cassian cut him off. “I don’t care about your reasoning. You need to start with a fucking apology. You treated him worse than you would every other of your soldiers.” 

Rhys swallowed. 

To say that Cassian was furious…That was a fucking understatmeent. 

And even if…even if he ignored this…there was something else that…

"His mother..." he wasn't sure how to ask that question. 

"Azriel made that decision," Cassian said calmly. "He didn't want you to feel like that was in any way your fault because you sealed Velaris for 50 years.  Quite frankly...I think Azriel's mother has been searching for an excuse not to see him anymore for a very long time."

Rhys' expression fell, the weight of guilt pressing down on him even more heavily now, if that was even possible. "I...I didn't know," he said quietly. "I...I really didn't know that it had come to this between Azriel and his mother. I...I really didn't, Cassian, I swear."

"Of course you didn't. We kept it from you," Cassian said drily. "Azriel does know how to keep a secret. Which we have just seen. I had absolutely no clue that he has met his mate."

Rhys swallowed. This should...It should have been...something happy that Azriel met his mate. He should have been telling Rhys and Cassian all about it, eyes alight with excitement and not...not spit it out just to spite Rhys.

He had really messed it up this time, hadn't he? Rhys knew that he had to make things right with Azriel, even if it meant facing the hard truth about how he had failed him as a brother and a High Lord.

"Who do you think she is?" he asked weakly.

Cassian stared at him. "I don't fucking care. She can be Sellyn Drake for all I care and I'll be her very best friend as long as she treats Azriel well and makes him happy," Cassian told him tightly. "And you...You'll keep out of it."

Rhys recoiled as if he had been slapped, but he knew Cassian was righr. He had lost the right to be involved in Azriel's personal life, and it was his own fault.

"An apology is the least you owe Azriel,  Rhys. And you owe Mor the fucking truth as well. Namely that the only reason that Azriel is probably civil to her, is that you ordered him to. Actually, you owe all of us the truth."

Rhys grimaced.  He knew that he had to come clean and face the consequences of his actions, even if it meant causing more chaos and unrest within his court. "Feyre is going to kill me," he mumbled under his breaht. Cassian didn't look sorry in the slightest.

"Then you shouldn't have behaved like a fucking asshole," Cassian gave back flatly. "Let's go back to Velaris. We'll have this discussion now.”

Rhys nodded, a sense of resignation washing over him. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for the difficult conversation that was awaitng him.

"What happened to your nose?" Feyre asked as soon as he entered the River House. "Where's Az?"

"I broke it," Cassian gave back drily. "Don't worry, Rhysand deserves worse."

Rhys grimaced at the thought of having to explain the whole situation to Feyre. "Azriel...he got...upset. We had a fight. And Cassian punched me. It's...it's complicated," Rhys mumbled. 

"Correction," Cassian snapped. "You were an utter prick to Azriel, who decided that he would rather spent Winter Solstice with his mate that none of us knew existed. And I punched you, because you didn't even fucking understand what you did wrong in the first place."

Feyre's eyes widened in disbelief as she listened to Cassian's explanation. "Rhys, what is he talking about?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern. "Why would Azriel get so upset?"

"Because apparently, Little Rhysie in his infinite wisdom, did not only tell Azriel and I quote "If you want to fuck somebody, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it," when he found out about Azriel's crush on Elain, but has also apparently spent the last 2 years telling my brother to "behave" like he's some kind of dog," Cassian said sarcastically. Rhys grimaced. "You should consider yourself lucky that I only broke your nose," Cassian told him darkly. "I ought to fucking throttle you for doing this to Az."

Shock and anger poured all over the mating bond and he met Feyre’s eyes with no small amount of trepidation. 

Feyre stared at him, her expression a mix of shock and disappointment. "Is that true, Rhys? Did you really say that to Azriel?"

"Feyre Darling..." he started. 

*Did you really tell Azriel "If you want to fuck somebody, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it.”?* she demanded mentally.

Rhys winced, knowing that he couldn't lie to Feyre through the bond. *I...I may have said something along those lines,* he admitted reluctantly.

Feyre narrowed her eyes at Rhys. "And the whole 'behave' thing?" she asked sharply.

Rhys looked down, unable to meet Feyre's gaze. "I...I may have used that phrase a few times," he said quietly.

"A few times?" Feyre repeated, her voice rising in anger. "How many times, Rhys? How many times did you tell Azriel to 'behave' because of his feelings for Elain?"

“It wasn’t about Elain. It was also about Mor,“ Cassian said drily.

“What?“ Mor demanded. 

Rhys winced as he realized that the truth was about to come out. 

"Mor, I-"

Mor's eyes narrowed as she took in Rhys' reaction. "Tell me, Rhysand. What did you say to Azriel about me?"

Rhys sighed heavily, knowing that he couldn't avoid this conversation anymore. "I...I may have told Azriel to 'behave' around you and Emerie. I was afraid that his feelings for you would cause tension within the court."

Mor's eyes widened in disbelief. "You told him to behave around me?” She swallowed these beautiful brown eyes lined with tears. “You…I thought…I thought he was…he was happy for us but it’s was only because you told him to behave. I let him be, I didn’t try to talk to him, because he seemed fine.”

Rhys winced at Mor's words, feeling the weight of his actions. "I thought it would be easier for everyone, Mor.”

“Easier to make him lie?” Mor asked him, her voice tight. “Easier to forbid him to express his actual feelings? I know…I didn’t behave right with him but I thought we were better. But we weren’t. He was just acting like everything was fine so you wouldn’t lay into him and punish him for misbehaving!”

Rhys felt a pang of guilt in his chest. "I...I never meant to hurt him, Mor. I thought I was doing what was best for everyone."

Mor shook her head, her eyes shimmering with tears. "You weren't doing what was best for him. You were doing what was easiest for you."

Rhys dropped his gaze, knowing that he had brought this situation upon himself. "I...I don't know how to make it right," he admitted. "I've lost his trust, and I don't know if I can ever earn it back."

Amren huffed, crossing her arms, her dark eyes glittering with annoyance. "Well, you certainly made a mess of things, Rhysand." She leaned in closer, her voice low and intense. "But you'd better find a way to fix it. And fast. Because we're not just talking about Azriel here. We're talking about the future of this court."

Rhys nodded tightly. "I know," he said quietly. 

He was very much aware what it would mean to their court if Azriel decided to leave them. The disadvantage they woul find themselves in…and this didn’t even start to cover the personal loss of losing his brother. 

“Leave him be,” Nesta said at that moment. 

Rhys turned to Nesta, his expression conflicted. "I can't just do nothing, Nesta. He's my brother,” he told his sister-in-law, but Nesta wasn’t having it, sticking out her chin. 

"And yet you treated him like some kind of attack dog who needed to be kept under control. That's not how you treat a brother, Rhys," she seethed. “I ought to stab you.”

Rhys flinched at Nesta's words, knowing that she was right. "I know," he said quietly. "I was wrong, and I need to make things right with him."

"You sure as hell better," Cassian growled. "Azriel doesn't deserve any of this bullshit."

***

To his surprise… Sky was at home.

He hadn’t thought she would be there…he thought he would be greeted by an annoyed Hector, who would be bitchy that it was him coming home and not Sky. 

But Hector was nowhere to be seen. He could hear his meowing though. 

He found his mate buried in their bed, seemingly all the blankets in the house put on top of herself…and Hector pawing at the mountain of blankets, demanding to be let in. 

"Are you hiding from the world, my love?" He asked softly, as he crawled into the bed next to her, lifting a few blankets so Hector could slither underneath them, which he did immediately. He carefully pulled the blankets away from her face and Sky looked at him, eyes red from crying. 

In the same breath he suddenly picked up the salty scent of tears. That was all he needed to pull her into his arms. 

“I thought you were having dinner with your family,” Sky whispered, her voice hoarse, burying her face against his chest. 

“Didn’t end well,” he told her drily. “Yours?”

“Didn’t end well either,” she said with a laugh that turned into a sob.

A soft sniffle. No. Not again. He couldn’t deal with her crying. He couldn’t…it ripped apart his hear to see his mate like that and he held her tighter."It's all right, love," he murmured, holding her close. "I'm here with you now. Let it all out." He gently ran his hand up and down her back, trying to soothe her.

"Tell me what's happened," he said gently, his voice filled with concern.

“I…I am a ho…horrible p…person,” Sky whimpered. 

He nearly wanted to laugh at the pure ridiculousness of that statement. Sky, the sweetest person he had ever met, a horrible person? Not possible.

"You're not a horrible person," he said firmly. "Not at all. You're the kindest, most compassionate person I've ever met."

“I…I to…told Cl…Claire th…that at le…least I…I do…don’t ha…have my si…sister’s slop…sloppy se…seconds.”

He needed a moment to parse it, her stutter worse than he had ever heard it. 

“What?” he could just ask dumbly as he blinked. Sky? Sky had said what?!

“I…I to…told Cl…Claire th…that at le…least I…I do…don’t ha…have my si…sister’s slop…sloppy se…seconds,” she repeated and began to cry again, hiding her face in her hands. “I…I am a ho…horrible p…person,” she whimpered.

Azriel gently took her hands in his, guiding them away from her face. "You're not a horrible person, sweetheart," he said firmly. 

She wasn’t. 

He highly doubted that Sky had said that without…without her sister saying something worse first. 

And it wasn’t like it wasn’t…"Besides…you said nothing that wasn’t true,” Azriel said drily.."

Sky hiccuped out a laugh and then started crying in the earnest again. 

“That’s why you are so upset?” He asked softly, against her warm skin. “You aren’t a horrible person. I swear. 

“N..no.” Sky said softly. “I…I am ne..never se…seeing them again.”

Azriel's heart sank at her words. "Your family? Why…why are you never seeing them again?"

“I…I am ne..never se…seeing them again. Not after what they…they said.” She was dead serious. He could hear that in her voice. 

And it was…

Azriel's heart clenched at the thought of her severing ties with her family, of her…they treated her horrible but Sky loved them. Sky loved them so much. So much more than they deserved.  "What did they say, sweetheart?" he asked gently.

Sky took a shaky breath, struggling to get the words out. "They... They said…said so…some things," she whispered, her voice quavering. "Things I can't…I can’t for…forgive them for."

"What did they say, sweetheart?" he asked again, his voice gentle yet firm. "I want to know."

He wanted to know. And then he wanted to kill them for upsetting her like this. 

Sky closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face. "You do…don’t want to know."

Azriel took her face in his hands, gently wiping away her tears. "I do want to know," he corrected her softly. "Because whatever they said, it hurt you, and I want to be there for you."

“They…They had a pro…problem with the fact that you were Ill…Illyrian,” she whispered.

Ah. “You don’t need to say anything more,” he said wryly. “But I promise that I have heard worse. If you still want to be around them…” he hated how they treated sky but he was not about to let her cut off contact with her family just because they didn’t like him. He could deal with that. He had survived worse.

Sky shook her head fiercely. "No,” she said, her voice so weak…and so definitive. “No.” 

Azriel's heart swelled with love for her as she stood her ground. "I understand, sweetheart," he murmured, pulling her closer. "If that's what you want, I'll stand by you, whatever you decide. But I don't want you to make this decision because of me."

“They…They told me that you were a cre…creature and a mo..monster and that they were surprised you hadn’t rip…ripped me apart. My father threatened to disinherit me if I didn’t give up the m…mating bond. So I told him I never wanted to hear a single word from him ever again,” she whispered, her voice growing stronger. 

Azriel's eyes darkened with anger as she recounted the hurtful things her family had said about him. He tightened his arms around her. 

"I'm so sorry, Sky," he whispered. "You don't deserve any of this. And your family doesn't deserve you."

“I coul…couldn't just…just sit there and let them say those ter…terrible things about you, about us,” Sky whispered. “I can't be around people who would say those kinds of things about the person I love the most in the world."

“…you love me?” He whispered in wonder.

She loved him? She chose him? Even over her family? Even…

Sky looked up at him, these blue eyes looking at him. “Yes. More than anything.”

He swallowed, his heart swelling. 

"I love you too, Sky. More than anything," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm so grateful that I have you in my life."

Sky smiled, her eyes shining with love. "You….You don't have to do a…anything to deserve me, Azriel. You just have to be yourself. That's all I've ever wanted. And I wouldn't change a thing about you. You're perfect, just the way you are."

Azriel felt a lump form in his throat. "I'm far from perfect, Sky," he said, his voice rough. "But I promise you, I will always do my best to make you happy. That's all I want."

He pressed soft kisses all over her face, making her giggle softly.

“Let’s just have our own Solstice celebration,“ he whispered softly.

Sky smiled at the idea. "Th..That sounds p…perfect," she whispered. “Just the two of us, together. It's a..all I need."

There still was a rabbit he had hunted in the cooling cabinet…and so while Azriel took care of cooking thst, Sky was making…something that involved stale bread, milk, eggs and plenty of sugar for dessert. 

Azriel smiled as he watched her work. "What in the world are you making, love?" he asked, peeking over her shoulder. "It smells delicious."

Sky grinned, holding up the bowl she was stirring. "It's…It’s a bread pudding," she said. "I found an old recipe in a c…cookbook. It's supposed to be a t…traditional Winter Solstice dessert."

Azriel raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You never cease to amaze me, sweetheart," he said, chuckling. "I can't wait to try it." He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek, his heart full of adoration for her.

Sky blushed at his affection. "I just hope it turns out okay," she said, adding a pinch of cinnamon to the mix. "But even if it doesn't, it will be p…perfect just because we're together."

Azriel smiled at her words, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. "You're right," he said softly. "As long as we're together, it doesn't matter what we eat or what we do. Just being with you is a gift in itself."

“You should write poetry,” his mate told him sweetly and he couldn’t help but laugh. He had picked up one of the poetry books she kept weeks ago and had found the whole thing… well. As long as Sky liked it… 

Azriel chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't think I have the talent for poetry, sweetheart," he said, grinning. "But I'm glad you think so highly of me."

Sky playfully nudged him with her shoulder. "Oh come on, I'm sure you could write the most beautiful sonnets if you r…really tried," she teased. "I've heard you whisper s…sweet nothings in my ear before, and they sound pretty poetic to me."

Azriel laughed and wrapped his arms around her. “I'll leave the sonnets to the experts and just continue whispering sweet nothings to you instead,” he promised her softly. 

“Sounds perfect to me,” she agreed brightly.

Dinner with Sky was better than any dinner with the inner circle could be. Roasted rabbit and crusty bread, followed by caramel bread pudding…

And then it was just him and Sky wrapped into each others arms on the couch, with Hector stretched out in front of the fireplace, blankets wrapped around him…

They had promised each other to not go overboard with gifts. But clearly oone of them had not listened, which hadn’t been him… there was a pile of wrapped gifts appearing on the couch table.

Azriel raised an eyebrow at the pile of gifts, chuckling. "Well, someone certainly didn't stick to our agreement, did they?" he teased, glancing at Sky with a playful smile. "Not that I mind, of course," he added, reaching for one of the packages. "I just hope my gift isn't embarrassingly small in comparison."

“…I…I only got you o…one thing,“ Sky admitted weakly, staring at the pile of gift. 

Then who… Azriel stared at the shadows who were swirling happily around sky.

“I think I know the culprit,” he said drily.

*I thought I told you not to buy her anything new,* he told them drily.

*We didn’t!* they assure him.

Azriel chuckled at the insistent swirling of the shadows. "I don't know, love," he said with a grin. "It seems like my shadows are feeling particularly generous this year." He reached for the nearest gift and handed it to her. "Here, why don't you open this one first?"

“You got me something?” Sky asked the shadows. “You shouldn’t have! I didn’t get anything for you!”

Azriel laughed, knowing that it was pointless to try and reason with the shadows when they were in a playful mood like this. "They don't care about that, love," he said, nudging her gently. "They just want to make you happy. Go on, open it."

Azriel had no idea what to even give the shadows anyway. *You could give us permission to ruin her sisters life,* they told him brightly

Azriel laughed again, shaking his head. *As tempting as that may be, I don’t think that's the best way to spread the holiday cheer,* he said drily.

*She deserves it,* the shadows murmured. *We wouldn’t outright kill her…*

*No, you’ll find some mischievous and chaotic way to torment her and make her life miserable,* he retorted with a grin. *Don’t physically harm her,* he warned them quietly. Tacit approval. The shadows danced in the spot as Sky opened the first box. Velvet wrapped. 

Jewellery.

A chicken egg sized sapphire in the middle of a necklace consisting out of sapphire and diamonds. He just sighed. Sky stared.

“Please…Please t…tell me that’s n..not r..real,“ she said weakly, her voice shaking. 

*Of course it’s real,* the shadows assured her like even the suggestion of it being fake was an affront. *Master’s mate doesn’t wear fake gems!*

Azriel would have liked to face palm. 

"I'm afraid the shadows insist that they only give the best for their master's mate," he said wryly. 

„This must have cost a fortune!“ Sky protested. “Where am I even supposed to wear it?“

Azriel chuckled, "I wouldn't waste my breath trying to argue with the shadows.  And as for where you're supposed to wear it, well… anywhere you want, really, love."

*Please tell me you didn’t steal that,* he told the shadows

*We didn't! We got it fair and square!* the shadows protested innocently.

Azriel raised an eyebrow, not quite believing them. *And how exactly did you manage that?* he asked dryly.

*We paid for it,* they told him innocently, fluttering around like they hadn’t bought her the biggest and most expensive sapphire he had ever seen.

“I can’t…“ Sky trailed off. 

“You’ll break their heart if you turn it down,“ Azriel said with a sigh."Just accept it, love," he said gently. "They mean well, even if they have a tendency to overdo it sometimes,” he said pointedly, something the shadows happily ignored. "They have their own line of credit, so whatever they buy is theirs to do with as they please," he said drily. 

Sky grimaced, staring down at the necklace…

"Please…please tell me there isn't…isn’t more pr…priceless je…jewellery in that stack?" she asked with a grimace. "

Azriel laughed, "I wish I could tell you that, but knowing the shadows, I wouldn't be surprised if they've bought you enough jewelry to start your own royal collection."

They had behaved...mostly.

If one ignored the hair comb dripping with some other blue stone...and the earrings that matched that necklace...and the quill that he was pretty sure was encrusted with actual diamonds.

Otherwise they had procured plenty of books for Sky, and had somehow found her a whole stack of notebooks…

(He was pretty sure they lied to him when they told him that they hadn’t bought any of this stuff knew. Where had they kept it otherwise?!)

Azriel couldn't help but shake his head in amusement as Sky opened each gift one by one. "Well, at least they managed to keep it under control for the most part," he said with a wry smile. "But knowing them, I'm sure there's still more where that came from."

Sky's eyes widened as she looked at all the gifts. "This is too much," she protested weakly. "I don't deserve all of this," she muttered. He would have argued, but instead he just pressed a kiss to her temple.  "Thank you very much," she thanked the shadows that happily twirled around her hair at her words.

Azriel chuckled, watching the shadows twirling in the air around Sky's head. "I think you just made their day," he said with a grin. "They're always happy to spoil you, love."

"I…I just hope they re…realize that I have a…absolutely no place to wear all of this," she said with a laugh. "I don't want to look like a walking jewelry store every time I leave the house…"

Azriel chuckled, "Well, they do have a bit of a tendency to go overboard when it comes to their gifts. But I can't really blame them, they just want to make you happy." He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek, his eyes twinkling with love. "And you deserve everything and more, love, even if it makes you look like a walking jewelry store every once in a while."

She melted into the kiss.

"I went a very different route for your gift," she told him drily, handing him a sole gift bag.

The first thing he pulled from it was a tin of tuna. 

The laughter was immediate. He couldn't help it. Deep belly laughter, his amusement apparent, warmth filling his chest. Azriel couldn't help but burst into laughter as he pulled the tin of tuna from the gift bag. "Is this for Hector or for me?" he asked, grinning from ear to ear.

"I did promise to buy you tuna," Sky gave back with a laugh. "I just thought it would set the tone for the second gift."

The second gift he pulled from the bag was a knitted sweater. Slits down the back for his wings...made out of thick and warm and soft black yarn.

Azriel's laughter faded into a gentle smile as he took in the knitted sweater. "Sky, is this..." He trailed off, fingers brushing the soft, warm fabric. "Did you make this?"

"I did promise to knit you a sweater too," she said simply. 

Azriel couldn't help but melt at her words, feeling his heart fill with warmth. "You remembered," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't believe you made this for me, sweetheart." He pulled Sky into a tight embrace, feeling her heart beat in sync with his. "It's perfect," he murmured, his voice muffled against her hair. "Just like you."

"I'm glad you like it," Sky said softly. "I know it's not as a King’s ransom in diamonds… but I wanted to give you something that was made with love."

Azriel pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, his expression softening even more. "It means so much more to me because you made it," he said, his voice tender. "I'll cherish it always, just like I cherish you. Though I must admit my present is going to pale in comparison to that egg sized sapphire too," he told her drily.

Sky laughed, leaning into Azriel's embrace. "Well, to be fair, it's hard to compete with a sapphire that size," she said with a grin. "But I'm sure whatever you got me is perfect, even if it's not worth a small fortune."

It kinda was though. Even though it didn't look that way…mostly because he had spent a good few weeks until he had found a stone that even had a chance to stand next to her eyes. An oval sapphire flanked by two diamonds...set in white gold.

Azriel handed her the last box, trying to appear nonchalant. "Here, open this one," he said, trying to hide his nervousness. "I hope you like it."

Sky carefully untied the silk ribbon wrapped around the box and lifted the lid, her eyes widening in awe as she took in the ring inside.

"Marry me," it burst out of him.They had already accepted a mating bond. A marriage would be nothing more than a couple of vows in front of a priestess. But he...he wanted...

Azriel's heart was racing as he watched Sky's reaction to the ring, hoping and praying that she felt the same way he did. "I know that we already have the mating bond," he said softly. "But I want more than that, sweetheart. I...I want everything."

These devastating eyes lifted, looking at him."I want to spend every day for the rest of my life by your side," he continued, his voice rough with emotion. "I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep holding you every night. I want to build a life with you, a family with you." He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. "And I want to make it official, in every way possible. Will you marry me, Sky?"

"Yes," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Yes, a hundred times yes. I want all of that too, and more. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, to be by your side every step of the way. I want to build a life together, a family together."

Quite frankly, Azriel thought that this Winter Solstice may be the best one he ever had, as she kissed him. 

"We could get started on making that family," Sky told him, biting her lips as she pulled back. "You know how High Fae fertility can be...could take us decades..."

Azriel's eyes widened at her words, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Are you saying what I think you're saying, love?" he asked, his voice low and raspy as he pulled her close.

Sky nodded, her expression shy and hopeful as she looked up at him. "I…I want to be a mother s…someday," she said softly. "And I can't think of anyone I'd rather have children with than you."

Azriel felt his heart melt at her words. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have found someone who loved him as much as Sky did. "I want that too, love," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "Nothing would make me happier than to have a family with you."

[sayoneee]

☆ POISON

“miss her, kiss her, love her, wrong move you’re dead, that girl is poison” - bell biv devoe (2.2k)

contains: luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite! reader. acquaintances to friends to secretish lovers. silena + drew mentions. during tlt.

kashaf’s note: u cant tell me a group of teenagers lived together at summer camp and no one had secret parties. dont @ me for the 90s music references (+ i imagine avantika vandanapu as silena, and momona tamada as drew)

i. and if there was a problem / yo, i'll solve it

“CASTELLAN?” YOU APPROACHED him slowly, tone cautious as if you were speaking to a wounded animal, although in this case, maybe you were, as you reached for his bruised knuckles, remaining persistent, even as he tried to withdraw his hands out of your grasp. “why’d you do that?”

“did i need a reason?” there is a forced jocularity to his words, a well-practiced mask he is never seen without, and you cringe slightly, your gaze catching the grimace that twists his lips. his attempt at a ‘roguish’ grin falls flat, the expression a discordant note against the backdrop of his injuries. luke’s already busted lip splits open, a thin line of crimson carving a river down his chin. he moves to wipe it off the back of his arm, but you’ve already pulled off the bandana tying up your hair (a birthday present from a half-sibling) and begun rubbing at his face.

luke’s eyes widened at the gesture.

despite being tentative acquaintances since your arrival, you’re still annoyed that luke castellan continues to underestimate just how much of his heart he wears on his sleeve — or rather, just how well you manage to see past his facade. his blatant lie hangs in the air, unacknowledged. instead, you deliberately shift your gaze to the purples and blacks that mar his knuckles, setting about wrapping them with your bandana, obscuring the damage.

“i could’ve done that myself,” luke says, amused, his words lightly appreciative. still, at your answering glare, he tosses his hands in the air in surrender as ‘ice ice baby’ continues in the background, uninterrupted, “but thank you, though.”

“i’m no apollo kid, but it’ll do,” you shrug instead of accepting the gratitude, tugging him to his feet, ensuring to grab his uninjured hand, and hauling him outside. 

“you’re no apollo kid, and you decide to take the injured man away from where the apollo kids are actually gathered,” luke muses, once again entertained with himself (was there any other emotion this boy could experience besides amusement?), once the lights of the apollo cabin are so far behind you, neither of you could fully see each other.

“you’ll live,” you say, scowling at him through the darkness, forgetting he couldn’t actually see you.

“and you’re moody for a daughter of aphrodite,” he says, still holding onto your hand as he trails after you.

you stop in your tracks, pinch the bridge of your nose, count to three, and finally turn to luke, who still has his stupidly pleased-with-himself expression on his face. “luke castellan, if you don’t end up dying of some tragic fate or the other i will hunt you down myself.”

“duly noted.”

“holy hera, do you even want to know where i’m taking you?”

“nah, i think the mystery really adds some suspense.”

“that’s it, i give up,” you say, before beginning to drag him back to the apollo cabin, when he plants his feet in the dirt ground firmly, grinning crookedly at you as the moonlight finally shines through the clouds, suddenly bathing him in a luminescent glow.

“nah, c’mon, let’s go to your spot.”

you glare at him, watching how his stupid grin only seems to grow in size, an annoyingly endearing trait. with a sigh, you continued to drag him along, scowling each time he tried to make a quip.

“what if we get to your spot, and i find out this was all just a ploy to murder me?” luke muses out loud, looking thoughtful for once.

“do you seriously believe that if i was gonna murder you, i wouldn’t have done it by now?” you say, pausing when he shrugged in agreement, “we’re here though, whiney baby.” 

luke’s eyebrows rose as he took in the secluded area near the dunes, finally meeting your gaze again. “aw, i can’t believe you just planned out our first date.”

“i seriously don’t know what any of my half-siblings see in you.”

“so you’ve discussed me then.”

“shut up, i dragged you all the way here, because even though i know you like attention, i don’t think you wanted the attention you were getting from punching that poor hephaestus kid in the jaw,” you say shockingly sincerely, startling both yourself and luke.

luke doesn’t say anything, letting what seems like a confession hang in the air, instead, sits down near the water, and rubs a hand across his jaw, watching you as you follow suit, sitting next to him. 

after spending what seems like minutes in silence, watching the waves lap at the shore, luke finally speaks, staring out at the horizon, his tone slightly hollow, and devoid of all things you have come to label as luke castellan, looking eerily similar to the night he had returned from his infamous quest, “heroes aren’t meant to be happy.”

you drew your legs to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and resting your head. “i know — achilles, orpheus, theseus…” you trail off.

“and hercules,” luke adds, almost melancholy. 

“i think i’ve pretty much accepted i’ll die young,” you say, your words coming out in nothing but a whisper despite the two of you being alone.

luke nods in solidarity, lost in thought. “it shouldn’t have to be like this,” he finally says, voice hardening.

ii. talking sweet and looking fine / i get kinda hectic inside

“okay, for this technique, i’ll need a partner,” luke says, looking straight at you. “can you come up here?”

deciding to oblige him, you rolled your eyes good-naturedly, smiling as you joined him in front of the other campers, who had begun whispering when he called out to you. in the crowd, just past your half-siblings looks of shock, you can see the stolls passing around a wad of cash. 

luke addresses the crowd once more, “i need everyone to be paying close attention here, we’ll be demonstrating how to parry, or counterblock for the newcomers.”

as both of you get into position, luke smiles, “don’t forget to go easy on me.”

you laughed, “don’t bet on it, castellan.”

your demonstration ends up feeling like eons, as the two of you continue to dance around each other, parrying and jabbing, and lunging, and striking, and parrying. both of you are panting, your faces flushed as you continue, and just when it seems like you have the upper hand, luke side steps, and easily parries your finishing blow, disarming you in the process.

you laugh as you yield, loving the exhilaration from the fight, but when the two of you face the campers once more, more than half of the crowd is slack-jawed. 

luke, ever the showman, can’t resist a grin, “not only was that your lesson to not underestimate aphrodite cabin, but also to show you the level we’re trying to get you guys to. now, partner up and spread out.”

before you can turn back to address luke again, drew is suddenly at your side. 

“what the fuck was that?” drew hisses, grasping your elbow and leading you away from the training session in full swing, pulling you into your cabin, where silena sits on your bed (still in her armor), clearly awaiting this impromptu confrontation.

“what was what?” you choose to feign innocence, examining your nails before glancing up to see the twin expressions of horror on both silena and drew’s faces. 

“do not act dumb,” drew eyes you coolly, “it’s so beneath you.”

“i’m not acting dumb,” you rolled your eyes at the both of them.

“yes you —”

“you and castellan,” silena interjects, “we want details, now.”

“what details even are there to give?”

silena grabs drew’s arm, pulling her back from apparently nearly pouncing on you. 

drew rolls her eyes at the hand on her arm, and then focuses on you, “you’re literally our next head counselor and you and castellan had never so much looked at each other until this week and now he’s asking you to help demonstrate training techniques, like hello?”

silena snapped her fingers in agreement, “c’mon, you can’t deny that something didn’t happen.”

“nothing did,” you crossed your arms across your chest.

“you know what,” drew says, “if you wanna be like this fine. come find me when you finally decide to — i don’t know — talk to your sisters?” she storms out of the cabin, leaving you alone with silena, who sighs, gives you an apologetic look and goes after drew. 

“well, that was a shit show.”

you whirl around to see your head counselor standing at the entry of the cabin, poised as ever, not a hair out of place as she stood, examining her manicure, looking bored, as usual. 

“couldn’t agree more,” you sigh, sitting on your bed, head in your hands. 

your head counselor takes a seat beside you, “look, i don’t care for whatever petty drama just unfolded, you’ll get over it, daughters of aphrodite and all,” she waves a hand in the air, “— but for now, we have more pressing issues. i’m gonna leave for college soon, and the entire cabin knows you’re my successor.”

you nod as she paused, meeting your gaze, and you can’t help but examine the perfect shape of her eyeliner, scanning her entire picture-perfect face in an attempt to discern her mood.

“i don’t care whatever it is you have going on with castellan, but you need to complete the rite of passage, before you become head counselor.”

“the rite of passage?” you asked, having only heard the phrase in hushed conversations around camp, the knot in your stomach tightening as she continued.

“no child of aphrodite is a true child of aphrodite without having broken their first love’s heart,” is all she offers as an explanation, completely straight-faced. “castellan is perfect for your rite of passage.”

your eyebrows furrow as you consider her words, and with a final nod, and gentle squeeze of your arm, she leaves you with both her legacy and your mother’s legacy in your hands. 

“oh, and before i forget, whoever doesn’t do it always ends up cursed.”

iii. now let me pray to keep you from / the perils that will surely come

luke’s shoulder brushing against yours has turned out to be extremely distracting, and now you can understand why your cabin is more notorious for breaking hearts, rather than falling in love. you can’t seem to focus on anything except how close his hand is to yours, even the golden hue of the fire or the sing-alongs can’t divert your attention. 

the distance between the two of you grows imperceptibly smaller when luke suddenly clears his throat, on the verge of saying something, when a twig snaps behind the two of you, causing you to jump apart and look at the intruder. 

annabeth is standing behind the two of you, looking faintly apologetic, but also terrified. “sorry if i interrupted you guys,” she offers, rubbing her arm.

you share a glance with luke, nodding at him. “you weren’t — luke can always talk to me later,” you say, offering her your trademark smile.

annabeth nodded, “thank you,” as luke gently squeezed your hand before getting up to comfort her.

“don’t thank me, sweetheart.”

you’re at your usual spot when luke rejoins you, running a hand through his curls. “sorry,” he says, “someone left a spider in athena cabin, and no one could kill it.”

you chuckled, “if it wasn’t a total accident, i’d bet money it was travis and connor.”

the corner of his mouth quirks up at the mention of his siblings, “i think you’re spending too much time around them to pick up on their habits.”

“or maybe, i’m spending too much time around you,” you offer, smirking at him, trying to ignore the funny feeling in your chest as he smiles genuinely at you.

“i like to say i’m an acquired taste,” luke shrugs, sneaking a glance at you as you laugh at him. 

“i think i’ve acquired that taste,” you say, without thinking, before realizing how phenomenally stupid that sounded.

luke smiled widely, “y’know, if you weren’t a daughter of aphrodite, i would’ve told you how corny that was —” you shoved him here, “— ow, let me finish, but i actually am really glad to hear that.”

“no wonder,” you smirked, “i can practically hear your heart beating out of your chest.”

“okay, look who’s confident all of a sudden.”

you shut him up with a soft kiss that has him seeing stars. 

iv. i know what’s weighing on your mind / you can be sure i know my part

“again, what the hell is going on with you and castellan?” silena asks one early morning before breakfast, birds chirping as she’s lining her eyes with kajal, glancing at the mirror in her hand as she sits at the top of her bed.

“nothing.”

“i literally saw you guys making out and had to scrub my eyes out with soap,” drew adds, looking extremely disgusted at the thought of relieving that experience, as she paints a fresh coat of nail polish. 

“fine, you’re right,” you concede, curling your eyelashes. 

“don’t you have to do the rite of passage, though?” drew asks, pausing to look up at you.

“i’m not doing the rite of passage,” you say slowly, setting the eyelash curler down on the vanity.

“excuse me?” your head counselor has her hands on her hips, the annoyed expression on her face marring her perfect features, towering over you as she stands in front of your bed.

“i said, i’m not doing the rite of passage,” you enunciate, looking up at her, maintaining eye contact.

the temperature of the cabin seemed to drop ten degrees, and for a minute or so, your stare remained unbroken until she shrugged. “your decision... but don’t say i didn’t warn you,” before dramatically whirling around and heading to the pavilion.

silena gave you a look as drew arched her brow, and you simply shrugged in response.

© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[grandline-fics]

If you’re down for it, could you do Ace and the prompt for “taking a hit for them”? Idk if you need other specifics but preferably with a afab!reader 👀

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Taking the hit for them

WARNINGS: angst, description of injury, comfort

CHARACTERS: Ace

WORDS: 1,303

A/N: Thank you for the request! I wasn't expecting for this to be as long as it was but I hope you're happy with the result for this one.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

————————

“You need to stop being so overconfident you know that?” You lectured, frowning heavily down at Ace as he lay on the railing of the Moby Dick for his afternoon nap. At the sound of your voice he tilted the rim of his hat up to blink at you sleepily and confusion. Already he’d forgotten and you rolled your eyes, staring down at him with arms folded tightly and and scowl deepening. If there was a competition for the most laid back person, you would have no doubt Ace would have a gold medal. You were almost jealous. Strictly speaking you admired his personality a majority of the time, but then moments like this came up and that admiration swiftly turned into worry and a lecture. You just needed him to think a little before charging headfirst into things. “That fight back there? They had you surrounded when I arrived. You could have been hurt!”

Ace lolled his head to the side, lazily looking in the direction of the town you’d both just returned from. It took a moment for his mind to drift back to the ‘incident’ that you were getting so stressed over. A long yawn rose through his chest and idly he scratched his chest. Vaguely he recalled a few nobodies trying to start something with him in the hopes of getting their own bounties increased. Honestly that was the only thing that slightly resembled a fight that he could remember being apart of. But still it was hardly anything and he threw you a grin, amusement glinting in his dark eyes. “Hurt by them? If I did, I’d happily give them my bounty myself. I’m fine, you’re fine. What’s got you so tight?”

“You, Ace!” You shouted firmly, your frustration drawing the attention of others on board, their own relaxation being disturbed by the beginning of the lover’s tiff. “Is it really so hard to just take a couple seconds and assess the situation for once? Just because someone looks weak doesn’t mean that’s the case. I mean look at your brother!” At that remark Ace’s need for a nap dissipated and he sat up to glower at you. Just because you were annoyed at him for some needless reason didn't mean you had to drag Luffy into it.

“What about him?” Ace asked evenly, his voice colder than normal. “He’s proved his strength time and time again on these seas.”

“Exactly! He’s taken down big names and part of that is because his appearance makes those he fights underestimate him.” You let out a sigh and rubbed your neck, feeling a headache coming on. “I just don’t want to see you hurt over something that could have been avoided.”

“Sweetheart I’m literally made of fire. No one can hurt me even if they tried.” Ace smirked at you, now that he knew you weren’t insulting his little brother his demeanour had returned and he flopped back down onto the deck. “I love that you worry but please don’t.” Seeing the discussion was hopeless you shook your head and left muttering under your breath. 

It was a week later before it all came to a head. Word came that Whitebeard’s territory was under threat from attack by pirates on the island. Obviously Ace insisted he could handle the threat on his own and you lightly smacked the back of his head. You rolled your eyes and remained quiet, breathing a silent sigh of relief when Pops insisted that a small group go to handle it instead of just allowing Ace to go. Ace accepted the order without hesitation. While you were glad Ace saw sense in that respect you just wished he would listen to you as readily. It was an even greater relief that Marco was also joining the group, at least he would be level-headed.

Your group landed on the island and almost immediately were drawn into a fight. For the most part it was barely worth a warmup, the pirates were in over their heads against you and the other Whitebeards, a clear show in difference in your power against theirs. However in the middle of the fight you noticed two of your enemies disappear from the thick of the fight. If they were drawing back they had a reason for it. Something didn’t feel right, and the fact that the others you were fighting didn’t seem bothered by their allies disappearance only reenforced your suspicions. Then you heard the sound of their fast approach and saw them draw their guns, aiming them at Ace. 

They were already aware that he was a Devil Fruit user from reputation and the beginning of the fight but they stared at your boyfriend with glee and sickening satisfaction. You felt your blood run cold at the realisation that they were fully confident their weapon would harm him so you ran. Quickly you made it to Ace in time just as the sound of the trigger being pulled rang out. Ace turned sharply as you hit the ground, watching as blood slowly darkened and spread against the fabric of your shirt. Immediately the group launched into a vicious assault, no longer going easy on their attackers while Ace gathered you into his arms and yelled for Marco. When Ace tried to reach for your stomach to put pressure on your wound at the same time your blearily made out the soft blue glow of Marco’s flame approaching you found the strength to grab Ace’s hand to stop him from coming into contact with your injury. “N-n-no….sea…seastone!” 

You slipped in and out of consciousness, blurred shapes and muffled voices that you could partially make out as Ace and the others working together to get you stabilised enough to get you back to the ship. You finally tumbled into darkness when you were set on the operating bed. Ace paced outside the infirmary with anxious fury. He wanted to burn the bastards that hurt you but they were already dealt with, he wanted someone to hurt him since this was his fault. Not only had he let the one responsible flee but he’d also heard them pull a gun on their return and made no move to avoid them. You, however had known, you’d considered the possibility that their actions weren’t just bravado or a bluff. Now you were hurt and it could have been avoided had he just done what you’d always asked him to do; consider everything, stop underestimating the enemy.

“Sweetheart, you can tell me ‘I told you so’ everyday.” Ace whispered from your bedside when you were out of surgery, his hand holding yours tightly. He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting with you, but through it all he kept talking. “I swear it anything you want, you got it. Hell, I’ll even give you my hat. You just need to get better.”

“Ace?” Your groggy voice broke him from his constant rambling and looked to you with relief and adoration. You smiled tiredly when his free hand stroked your face, always finding comfort in his touch. You could see the guilt in his eyes and tension in his shoulders. You didn’t need to tell him you told him so, he’d be remembering this day for the rest of his life. “I don’t want your hat. I want my own and a kiss. I want a kiss.” 

Ace couldn’t help but let out a small huff of laughter and lightly pepper your face with gentle, loving kisses until he found your lips and kissed you properly, deeply. What had happened had shaken him completely but for you he’d be strong, he’d be better than he had been and more certainly of all, he’d take things more seriously. For you. Always for you. 

-----------------------------------------------

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld

[blood-starved-beast]

Hey do you guys think about Vi hallucinating a more innocent, "untainted" by reality Caitlyn in the "Nothing to Lose" clip? Doesn't it sound familiar?

It's just like how she hallucinated Powder back when Cait took her down to her childhood home. She misses Powder then, just like in the s2 clip, she misses that Caitlyn, the one not harden by the events of the end of s1 and s2.

Caitlyn and Powder have a lot of parallels. Both are characters underestimated by the societies they are born into, and for a long time are outcasted from them. Cait is an outcast to Piltian High Society cause she rather be an Enforcer doling out Justice than playing the Politics Game. Jinx is outcasted for being well, for being Jinx. As a kid, Powder wasn't see as strong enough or respected, the same way Caitlyn isn't treated with respect. And with both of them Vi makes the same mistake of underestimating them/putting both into the Box of "I need to protect them."

The "Oil and Water" scene is often talked about, but people don't realize how it and the subsequent Caitlyn bath scene parallels another s1 scene - that is, when in ep3 Vi tell Powder to stay put while she and the guys go save Vander. Vi tells Caitlyn in other words, to stay put while she goes off (with Jayce) to handle things about Silco. Both Caitlyn and Jinx, who both have issues of self identity and wanting to be something, take it very badly in each of their respective moments. And the resulting aftermath ends badly for everyone involved - (Jinx deciding to help with the monkey bomb/Caitlyn gets scoped out for the dinner party).

What I'm saying is, that s2 is gonna be Caitlyn's "get Jinxed" moment. Vi already compared her and Powder once, back highlighting how Obsessive Cait can be with her maps in s1. She is gonna get obsessive about hunting Jinx, the source of her many many ills these two seasons. Damn everything and everyone that gets in her way. And Vi, well Vi is gonna have to confront again, this person that she cares for, has this side of them that she did not account for. And I think, much like in s1 with Jinx, the "breakup" is gonna be the consequence of it.

[breadinanutshell]

I made a list of Halsin facts for my own entertainment a while back but forgot to post it. Dunno if anyone would find this interesting but in case here it is, enjoy~ o/

ACT1

-He writes in tight scribbles, smokes the pipe and loves reading (likely non-fiction). He’s the studious sort, considering his unprompted interest in the parasites and his hunger for knowledge. This aspect of him was more defined in Early Access but sadly got lost during full release. It also briefly comes up during one of his banters in later chapters.

-He rarely drinks: he’s a lightweight and gets overly affectionate when drunk. He also sings when drunk. Badly, per his word.

-Is an actual Disney princess (he has birds scouting and reporting back to him).

-He has a strong sense of duty, so much so he will stop paying attention to other aspects of his life in the pursuit of it. At least in one instance, this has been depicted as a flaw (when he abandons the grove looking for the Nightsong).

-He enjoys spending time in his bear form, and appears to have been the main caretaker for the bears in the grove. Ormn in particular acts heartbroken that Halsin is missing.

-When given the chance, he’s eager to give up his position as archdruid, as he felt it was too draining and confining. Despite his insecurities in his ability as a leader, he’s more shrewd and wise than he lets on: he can play politics when necessary. And people around him have been more than happy to rely on him. He cares about those under his protection. A lot. “The grove is everything to me”.

-He doesn’t shy away from violence when provoked.

-He feels responsible for the shadow curse, and is compelled by the need to fix everything.

-This is a relic from Early Access but you’ll have to pry it from my cold dead hands: in the grove there used to be a fanfic titled “Shadow’s Kiss” written by the druid Roan that featured a certain “Balsin”. At the end of it a written entry by Halsin would threaten to feed Roan to Ormn if he ever saw the name “Balsin” again.

ACT2

-He likes open spaces, reading and whittling utensils and ornaments (ducks in particular). He’s got a sweet tooth and a fondness for honey. He finds it hurtful when he's made fun of for his interests: he admits people tend to underestimate his sensitivity.

-He’s a very religious man and invokes Silvanus any chance he gets. Even so he doesn’t believe in blind faith and chides Shadowheart for not questioning Shar’s teachings.

-He’s 350 years old.

-He has no mercy for goblins, to the point where he disapproves if you spare them in Moonrise. A bit funny, considering there’s a banter later on with Karlach where he insists that “mercy costs us nothing”.

-His scars were caused by a bear who didn’t appreciate being spurned during mating season.

-He’s a veteran who served in the battle against Ketheric Thorm in Reithwin, where eventually the druids and Harpers won. At the time he was likely second to the archdruid that led him into battle. When the shadow curse started spreading, said archdruid died, leaving Halsin in charge. He immediately evacuated the survivors. He still feels guilty for not being able to help more that day. From one of his party banters it’s clear Halsin suffers from survivor’s guilt. He’s lost many friends to the curse, so many in fact that “it would take a day and a night to recite the names of the fallen”.

-Considering how obsessed he’s been with the curse ravaging the land for the past 100 years, it’s unlikely he had any intimate connections during this period of time. He also claims that more good has been done since meeting Tav than in the 100 years before their meeting.

-His family is dead and buried at the foot of the Grandfather Tree in High Forest.

-He seems used to changing environments and affiliations. Once recruited, he’s quick to call Tav his new family.

-He remains polite in the face of scorn and ridicule. Right when he joins if you suggest all he’s good for is cleaning camp he responds with an awkward chuckle and a “wherever you need me”. Later in Act 3 his affections can be brusquely turned down by comparing him to a deep rothé, to which he calmly responds “a simple no would have sufficed”.

-As a child he befriended Thaniel, a spirit of nature, and ever since then he felt a higher calling. Thaniel appears to be as fond of Halsin as Halsin is of Thaniel, mentioning him often to Fist Art Cullagh during their imprisonment in the Shadowfell.

-He is the only expert of shadow curse alive, and if killed in Act 1 the curse cannot be lifted.

ACT3

-He believes himself, or at the very least aims to be, a protector. Any failure (or perceived failure) in fulfilling said role leads him to spirals of self doubt and insecurity. His self worth is heavily dependent on how useful he can be, and without a big purpose or mission to fulfill, he appears lost. In the same vein he seems incapable of staying still and relax, he always needs something to focus on.

-In true druid spirit, he considers cities to be intruding on nature’s realm. On his arrival to Baldur’s Gate, he's appalled and disgusted by the class inequality encountered in the city. He’s disturbed by the suffering of children, in particular.

-When called naive for his dream of a better future he mentions he gave up cynicism when he was 200 years old.

-He’s all for heckling Dribbles’ corny jokes.

-He sees his body as a vessel and his physical prowess as a tool. He takes no pride in it.

-He admits that he didn’t realize how much his responsibilities had been weighting on him until Tav showed up and took that burden away.

-He’s polyamorous, and pretty lax when it comes to sex and relationships: he has no qualms in taking pleasure where “desire finds purchase”. He mentions that he had many lovers in the past and that his heart doesn’t stir lightly. This might imply he’s laid with many, but cared for few. He also doesn’t appear thrilled by the prospect of marriage/tying yourself forever to someone. For a man so against putting a relationship into words, he acts incredibly smitten when romanced and showers his partner in all kinds of sweet praises.

-He’s so attuned to his wildshape that he tends to lose control of his transformations when overcome by strong emotions (i.e. anger, arousal). He appears embarrassed when this accidentally happens in an intimate situation. He does enjoy wildshape during intercourse though, as he even proposes it himself during an interaction with Shadowheart. Per his word, he doesn’t discriminate against any type: in an interaction with Lae'zel he implies he slept with a chimera.

-He considers lust to be the most essential of impulses and feels it’s only natural to be guided by it.

-He’s travelled far and wide. Where we do not know, unfortunately. He mentions he’s been to the Underdark many times and possibly the Nelanther Isles. In his youth he ventured into the Underdark to sate his own wanderlust, where he got captured, enslaved and sexually abused by drows for 3 years.

-He’s self aware of his obsession with nature. When Jaheira warns him not to fall into druid stereotypes, he comments that he does think about other topics such as high art and politics, but to him nothing compares to a tree.

-When speaking of his past, he comments that people seem to focus on the more “salacious chapters” and disregard his years of study. When confronted about it, he seems perfectly content with a life spent studying, meditating, counselling, fighting, training and fucking.

-He used to hibernate as a bear and mentions he spent at least 100 years of his life sleeping. It’s unclear if he’s still in the habit.

-At the end of the campaign he sets out to create a new community in Reithwin with the victims of war and refugees that were turned away from the city. The children of this soon-to-be-founded community refer to him as “daddy Halsin”.

-He considers himself an exceedingly patient man.

[signoferoda]

THAT 4AM CRY - HS

Summary: Harry’s daughter has a set routine when it comes to her night time feed

That 4am newborn cry is like clockwork, it happened every night for the past two weeks. It was amusing actually as Harry blinked his sleep away, the glow of the alarm clock making him chuckle, exactly on the dot.

Novies weak cries echoed through the room, not appreciating having to wait for her milk. Y/n adjusts beneath the covers, drawing Harry’s attention, she snuggled into the pillow, her mouth hung open. He could see the exhaustion even as she slept and it had him springing from the mattress, padding over to the bassinet that stood adjacent to their king bed.

“it’s alright lovie” Harry cooes, scooping Novie into his arms and cradling her to his chest making sure to support her head with his palm. He was a pro at it now; having had 3 babies already, he aced the dad hold. No longer scared about his touch being too strong.

“Daddy’s here” Harry’s voice was soft and gentle as he looked over his shoulder to y/n, making sure she’s still asleep. She was so Harry quickly left the room, gently closing the door with his foot as he headed downstairs and away from his sleeping wife and 3 sons. He couldn’t risk waking any of them up, he could handle a late night/early morning feed.

“Now don’t be mad at daddy, but you’ll have to take a bottle alright?” He spoke as he padded down the stairs softly, being extra careful with his steps. “I know you prefer it from the real thing but mummy deserves a little break don’t you think?” Listening to her fathers gentle voice, Novies cries softened and eventually came to an end. She cooed up at her dad, absolutely melting her old man’s heart. Harry couldn’t stop himself from pressing a gentle kiss to his baby girls forehead. He smiled, walking into the kitchen and flicking the lights on before heading to the fridge to grab the pre-pumped milk and popping it into the microwave.

Once it was done, he checked that the milk wasn’t too hot before walking to the lounge and plopping down onto the couch. He slowly fed the nipple into Novies mouth but she rejected it, crying a little making Harry sigh.

“Come on little love, I promise it’s mummy’s milk” he tried again but Novies chubby little hands tried her best to push the bottle away. “Novie bear, listen to daddy. Drink this and then you can have the boob in the morning. Deal? I really don’t want to have to wake up mummy hun, she’s real tired” his thumb circled her cheek, “come on lovie, drink up for me?”

By some miracle she did and Harry swore his baby was a genius who could already understand every word he spoke.

It took a while for Novie to finish drinking, but once she was done Harry was kick to burp her before he headed back upstairs. Novie passed out in his arms, her pouty lips smacking together in satisfaction. He kisses her chubby cheeks before placing her back in her bassinet and climbing into bed.

Although he was being quiet, he underestimated the beds movement as he climbed in and cringed into his pillow when he sees y/n stir, then open her eyes. Harry watches as she jolts up, looking over at the baby.

“I didn’t feed her” she whisper shouts, as she looked at the beaming red light of their alarm clock, it was nearly 5am.

He had to hold back a laugh at the way her boobs were spilling out of her tank top and the way her hair was all over the place, "I fed her love."

Y/ns eyes widen as she fixes her tank top, "she took a bottle?”

"Like a champ”

"You could’ve woken me up. I know she can get fussy”

“It’s all handled mama” Harry whispered, pulling y/n down towards him. He lays a soft kiss to her head. “Go back to sleep” it would take more convincing normally but y/n was beyond exhausted so it was all she needed to settle back down and cuddle into her husband.

[jhdyuiee]

Mirrors

-‘๑’- pairing: HUSBAND!jaehyun x WIFE!y/n

-‘๑’- warnings/tags: smut!, dirty talk, pet names (baby, good girl, wife, beautiful), unprotected sex, finger-fucking, squirting, spanking, heavy making out/kissing, breast play, cursing, multiple orgams, riding

-‘๑’- w.c: 1.6k

-‘๑’- a.n: hii!! i’m sorry for being MIA for the last month, school has been rlly overwhelming with midterms & testing but i’m on break rn which means ill be back to uploading! look foward to all the content i’ll be releasing starting with this one!! i love u all & thank you for waiting. i’m truly sorry 🤍

. . .

The hard crash of his lips on mine as the faint sound of the door slamming shut rung in my ears.

“Naked and on the bed,” he said as he pulled his lips away, his voice so deep.

Without a second thought, I went into the room and rid myself of every piece of clothing I had on. The cool air brushed against my wet aching core and hard nipples. Jaehyun walked in moments later, his hard cock leaking with precum. I wanted nothing more but to get a taste of it in my mouth, and fuck me til’ I forgot who I was.

Only he could do that.

His fingers grabbed my chin, lifting my head so I could look at him, eye-to-eye.

“Open your mouth,” he whispered, and so I did; slipping in two fingers into my mouth. “Suck.”

I sucked on his fingers, while he looked at me in a taunting way. His face saying, What a slut. I swirled my tongue and sucked on his fingers. ‘Is it weird how I find this oddly hot?’

Soon I was put in a haze, Jaehyun must’ve noticed it since he took his fingers out and managed to position me on top of him.

“You shouldn’t be thinking about anything else besides me,” he said, pinching one of my nipples roughly. I unconsciously grinded against him, his hard cock resting against my ass.

“S-sorry-“ I muttered, before he picked me up and sat in front of the mirror that stood in the corner of the room. I was positioned with my back resting against his chest, and his hands opening up my legs. I watched through the mirror all his movements and the way my cunt drooled.

“So wet for me,” he taunted, as he ghosted his hand around my cunt. Before I was able to mutter a sentence, a word, he slapped my cunt. I omitted a low yell, earning me another slap. “Oh! Fuck. J-Jae.” Slap. “Please ‘m nn-no.”

His hot breath warmed my ear, and he whispered, “No, you deserve a punishment after the show you put on at dinner.” His lips lingered for a while longer, then kissed down my neck. I felt like I was going to crumble any minute now, just by his harsh slaps and taunting words. I was so close, so fucking close, but then his slaps came to a hault.

“J-Jaehyun?” I questioned, turning my head back. His lust-filled eyes staring back at me.

He smirked, “Oh my pretty wife, you don’t get to cum yet.”

“Wha-What? I-“ He interrupted me halfway when his fingers intruded inside my cunt. No warning, Nothing. His two fingers going at an unmerciful pace, my stomach fluttered. The knot threatened to unleash any moment now.

“Pl-Pleas’ let me c-cum. I’m cl-close Jaehyun…”

His pace slowed, then halted again. He was torturing me. I couldn’t handle it. “No, no, no. Please Jae let me cum,” I begged him. I needed to release.

His hand grabbed my jaw, turning me to face him. “Apologize then,” his hazy voice said. “Apologize?” I questioned. “Yes, apologize for the show you put on earlier.”

The last hours came rushing back into my hazy mind. The incident at the restaurant. The incident in question was when I put on a dress—so short in his words—that it kept lifting up, nearly exposing my ass.

In truth, I wore it to piss him off, and because I might’ve felt a little needy for him today. However, I underestimated how many people would have their eyes on me, and the amount of fumes erupting from Jaehyun's head.

“S-Sorry… I’ll never do that again Jae.” His face didn’t change, “And?”

“And I’m only yours. I belong to you Jaehyun.”

He smirked, his lips finding mine. The kiss distracting me from his fingers that once again intruded inside my cunt, continuing their pace. His thumb playing with my clit, stroking, and circling it until it had me begging into our kiss. I wanted more.

“Please fuck me.” The words came out of my mouth, when I pulled away from the kiss.

Jaehyun didn’t say anything, he just lowered his head into my neck, sucking on my sweet spot as he continued relentlessly finger fucking me. I involuntarily clenched around his fingers, signaling him.

“It’s okay baby, let go all over my fingers beautiful.” Jaehyun's words were the tip of the iceberg, I came crashing down. Loud moans erupted from my lips, tears streamed from my eyes, and the faint touch of his lips against my shoulders.

“I always love it when you squirt,” he whispered. When my eyes finally fluttered open, I witnessed what he meant by that. I squirted all over his arm, the mirror, and the floor. The scene in front of us; a mess.

He brought his hand that was inside me to his mouth, licking himself clean of all my juices. He let out a satisfied groan. When he finished, he picked me back up and threw me gently on the bed. His cock aching for it’s release.

“Spread nice and wide for me baby,” he said. I grabbed my legs, spreading them for him. In different circumstances I would’ve hesitated, but the lust clouding my mind cut out any logic or emotions.

“Good girl.”

He brought himself closer, his tip prodded outside me. He was teasing me, but I was running out of patience. I shifted closer until his tip was the only thing inside my cunt.

“Impatient aren’t you my wife,” he teased as he watched me. He was enjoying this so much, I saw it in the way he look at me.

“Please hurry Jae, I need you to fuck me already.”

“Fuck you drive me insane Y/N.”

We both moaned when he pushed his cock further in, stretching me out so well. Jaehyun groaned, taking my arms to pin them above my head.

“So fucking tight,” he chuckled. “Even after all that squirting.”

Jaehyun thrusted hard and rough. The squelching sounds echoed in the room along with my moans. I would’ve been scratching his back if it wasn’t for the hold he had on my wrists that he pinned above my head.

“Ri-Right there,” I moaned out when he hit the spot he knows will have me crashing and crumbling. “Deeper… Harder.”

“As you wish,” he said. Jaehyun angled me slightly, his thrusts reaching me more deeper. The hold on my wrists disappeared, his hands now coming down my body until one reached my clit. He circled and pinched the already swollen clit as he thrusted even more relentlessly into me.

“Cum,” he groaned. One thrust, then two, until I finally came. I came hard on his cock, clenching around it while he fucked me through my climax.

His thrust then slowed down, going sloppy. He was close too. A couple thrusts more and he came too. His white seeds painting my insides white, filling me up so well.

“Good job baby,” he whispered, kissing my lips gently, a total contrast to his demeanor earlier. He laid beside me, and we waited until we caught out breaths. However, I was far from satisfied, I wanted him back inside me.

I turned to his side, he was already looking at me. He smiled, his dimples appearing. I got up, staring at his cock, which was still semi-hard.

“Not satisfied,” he said. I turned to him, seeing the smirk plastered across his face. I nodded. “Then ride me baby, you know what to do.”

Before I entered him, I stroked him to get his cock harder. I positioned myself on top of his cock, lowering myself until the tip poked me. I slid him in slowly, until he was all the way in.

“Fuck. Feel so good,” he groaned, bringing his hands to the sides of my hips.

I started bouncing, increasing my speed the more I go. His fingers dug into me, marks sure to appear. “Keep going baby, like that. Fuck. You’ll be the death of me.”

His praises only ignited me even more. “You like that?” I said when I leaned forward to capture his lips. He only let a satisfied groan into the kiss, but his hands traveled down to the flesh of my ass. He kneaded it, smacking it moments later. His smacks didn’t stop, but they did once I got back up.

“Keep riding me beautiful, I’m close to cummin’ now.”

And so I continued, his hands now on my tits. He fondled them, playing with both my nipples and later pinching them while I bounced on him. “Come down, I wanna suck on em’” he commanded.

My hands on the headboard, while my tits came in front of his face. I felt as his tongue darted out, and sucked on one like a child.

Slap. “Keep moving,” he said, biting down on my nipple.

It didn’t take long until we both came. My third climax erupting from me, in a hazy and euphoric way. I only saw white.

“Fucked dumb my little wife,” Jaehyun said, looking down at me. My legs trembled, tear stains all over my face, drool escaping my lips, and his love marks scattered all over my body.

“Yes,” I muttered. His head came down next to my ear whispering, “You did well.” His voice caused an eruption of butterflies in my stomach. I always loved his praises.

“Go to sleep now baby, I’ll clean you up,” he said. “And the mess you made in the mirror,” he teased. I pouted at his words, earning a laugh from him.

“I’m sorry, I love you.” He kissed my temple saying, “Good night my wife.”

“Good night Jae, I love you.” I muttered into the night before I drifted off into a quiet and deep sleep.

. . .

© jhdyuiee

2024.03.23

[occamstfs]

Chauffeur Swap

Another epistolary TF ! Cocky office worker to an equally cocky gym bro, trait swap + IQ Drain aplenty -Occam

Monday May 6th

Morning 

I’m beyond thrilled that I’m finally being looked at for a promotion. I’ve worked my ass off for this company ever since I graduated and I am not going to let this chance slip through my fingers. It’s such a good gig, in the week leading up to them filling the position they’re letting us use the company’s chauffeurs as just one little hint of the luxury this promotion will afford us.

At least, that’s what I thought before my driver arrived to pick me up and I saw what a slob of a man my driver was! I mean my word! I thought it was a prank or something else untoward! I’m sure he could tell too, I could not muster even a shy smile, nothing to do but grimace. God and that was before I got in! He must have just been an Uber hired or something because it smelled like a locker room in there! Truly vile!

God willing this is a one off occurrence, hate to get the oaf in trouble. Though judging by the state of his hygiene though he clearly needs to be taught a lesson somehow! I mean even with this job I couldn't afford to buy cologne enough to hide that stink- perhaps some dog-strength febreze- Ha!

Evening

Godddd fuck! The last thing I needed after such a stressful day was to be greeted by that animal’s face- worse yet, his SCENT! I underestimated just how grueling this interview charade would be. It is just one final hurdle to the big leagues though. I will leave petty contrivances like suffering through this unpleasant car ride behind.

Just to make the time pass with greater speed I put forth some small talk. Not like I could hold my breath near long enough to make a difference, and it couldn’t hurt to vent about what a hassle the day had been hm? After this though he started talking about himself and fwoh- could I not care less about whatever surely protein-fart based drivel or beer-brained diatribe he launched into. 

Perhaps this is unfair, I did not deign to listen to him. So perhaps he’s better than he seems. But who could blame me, sitting in that car was punishment enough to earn me tuning him out. And! And! For him to have the benefit of the doubt surely he could at least wear deodorant! Hm. Unless he is trying? God that would be depressing, to be so, ugh- I continue to hold out hope I never see him again

Tuesday May 7th

Morning

Mm, I simply must develop a better poker face if I am to continue to suffer in this odor for the week, god forbid even longer- I have prepared accordingly however, yesterday no one mentioned it at work but I swear I kept smelling it, him, all day? Same when I got home, just everytime I calmed down from work bam! I smelled this horrid car ride. I am bringing my cologne to work with me, I plan to put it at lest once more when I arrive at work.

It’s just, Why is this my problem right! I don’t know what his problem is, but I don’t see why I have to suffer because of it right? I should not have to deal with someone like this, he’s supposed to be working for me. I uh, it’s not like I think I’m better than him I just, well I am better than him. Hm, I lost my train of thought. 

Ugh, I keep spacing out today- I’m sure it has to do with my twice-daily rides with, hm. I don’t even know his name. It’s? You know I don’t care. I just need to take it easy, I’m not letting this fucking dude-bro pitstain of a man bother me this much! I’m getting my bag and he is not worth a second further of my, uh, attention.

Evening

I have a headache and I don’t know how it is his fault but it has to be. This whole thing is setting me on edge, I need to chill about Ben. That’s right Ben! I got his name, I actually told him about my headache and he told me that he usually meditates to clear his mind- which crazy that someone so, despite all appearances, mindful treats his body like a sty but- Well not a sty I suppose, or at the very least a well built one- 

Ah, that’s not quite appropriate is it. God he is hot though. Honestly sitting there just breathing in his, uh, scent, helped with the headache. Wait no, it was the meditation, God, why can I not stop thinking of his fucking B.o. My headache was gone but now I feel I’m beginning to run a fever, or at the very least I need to turn down the AC or something-

Better not affect my work tomorrow.

Wednesday May 8th

Morning 

Not gonna be a good one. I fucking woke up late which ive literally never done before! I barely got myself up and ready in time and didn’t realize until the car but I didn’t bring my cologne with me. It turned out to be the least of my problems however as when I got in his car I fully spilled my coffee all over the backseat. Hopefully this will mask his putridity because I now have to sit in the front with him for the ride.

He must know. He has to know it has to be some kinda sick, uh, fetish or something. Its untendable untenable. god get your shit together Jacob. Its so hard to focus on anything else now that Im sitting right by him. I need to talk to someone about this, fuck its like hes exposing his pits on purpose. He wants me to stare at him, i bet. Bet he gets some sort of sick rise out of me. Im sure him and all the other chauffeurs probably get together and jack off about how repulsive and, uh, strong they all are.

God Fuck! Get me out of this car im losing my mind! Need to, ill just get some work done on the commute, should help i think. God its getting hot in here again or something, so help me if this fucker starts actively sweating im gonna lose it

Evening

i just couldnt get anything done today i dont know what was fucking up dude? it was just so hot in there and i mustve forgotten to put deodorant on this morning, people kept complaining but i didnt even notice? i guess i was sweating more than usual, but like, it was so hot in that office and my clothes felt weird, tight almost. As if tho, lol im sure no one even really noticed that i was off.

OH speaking of, Ben really put himself together on the ride home today. He was wearing a button up and everything, must have seen how nice im living and got his shit together! Maybe ive been to hard on the douche? nah car still smelled like shit haha! Or i think it did? didnt really notice it until like halfway thru?

Fuck my clothes are so tight all of a sudden, godd its so hot actually. I look fucking huge in this tiny little monkey suit- almost like Benjamin ha- as if id stoop so low, even if i started getting massive not like id be dum enough to be on his level lol

Thursday May 9th

Morning

Fuckin couldnt find ANYTHING this morning dude! it was like someone came in and took or hid everything i need for work today. ended up having to just fuckin leave for the car without a suit jacket- pretty sure ive got an extra in my office tho so were chill there. mm probably shouldve shaved tho lol

Oh yeah the files! i had some reports that i needed to bring in but totally couldnt find them! Turns out benjamin had them the whole time it was weird, guess i left them last night. but he was like such an ass about it, like he knows anything though the uh, jock, jerk uh. hes actually dressed better than me rn isnt he. Finally threw on a dress shirt, surely inspired by me haha- pulling it off quite well too, his chest hair peaking up through mm-

Fuckkk dude my cocks kinda getting hard looking at him, starting to smell musty in the car too, wait oh shit i didnt even notice that it didnt reek when i got in! weird that its starting to stink now tho whats up with that, looks like hes finally noticing tho ha! its nice to see him finally react to how bad my uh, no how I GOD, how bad fuckin’ he stinks obviously. whatever, ive got more important stuff to think about.

Evening 

okay work was like, not fuckin chill today. idk what was up but like, every little thing i did today just wasnt good enough apparently like okay?? you know me, if something seems off clearly, fucking OBVIOUSLY it uh, i? god my head just keeps going blank i dont get it, im just. Huh, kinda smells like Ben all of a sudden, oh fuck lol my pits have completely sweat through my shirt-

None of this matters anyway though bro! Because i just had the BEST sesh with Ben after work!! honestly the work shit doesnt even bother me, shouldve seen me its like i am a natural at this shit i was getting a pump like ive done it a hundred times. im sure it smelled like a locker room on the ride home lol

OH! I didnt even say, it was all ben’s idea!!! he said the gym always helps him when uh, things get too hard to think about and fuckk bro hes so right. hes so, lol i almost said hes so smart- he definitely knows how to work out though, he kept helping me with my technique but im prety sure he just wanted an excuse to touch me- 

not that im complaining LMAO- every time he did it was like i felt myself getting stronger, and less worried about all those yes-man suit fuckers! hed adjust my arms and i would feel my biceps just suddenly pump larger, hed bump his hands into my pecs while spotting me and theyd just force the bar up even faster, wish hed just go ahead and grab my cock lol

theres time yet too- gonna crash at his place tonight! hopefully ill get to see him put his magic fingers and tight body to use cause fuck bro idk if it was the pump or what but i dont think my balls have ever been this blue, like any time i try to think about, oh ughh, work i just. mm everything in my body just begs me to fucking blow a load- 

Friday May 10th

Morning

fucker just went to bed early- got me all riled up and then i had to jack off alone. felt way better than usual tho, my cock seems bigger to lol, dk whats up with that. wanted to try again this morning but ben was just on my fucking ass trying to get me out the door 

i didnt have any of my clothes, duh, so i just threw on some of his, crazy how much they fit me? they even kinda already smell like me lol. he actually put a suit on which seems wild, funny that i look like a slob and he looks like some uh, fancy guy. Like i should right? uhh is my headache coming back? lol idk but looking at him in that fucking suit sure is making it hard to focus-

ben said i can just change n stuff when we got to the office, its why hes dressed up. ill go ahead and drive us and then hell just run up and get my clothes, idk if theyll fit tho? feel like im larger than i was for some reason- oh yeah my massive fucking pump lol- 

mh speaking of pump, maybe while hes up there ill have time to jack another one out, not like anyonell see or care ya? like its a problem im about to be the fuckin alpha of this company or uh, something. itll be done before hes back, only evidence will be cum stains on his clothes lol. ugh it smells so fucking dank in here i might just cum without touching it lol

Evening

shit man, dont know what i was doing? i feel like i was supposed to go into work today but ben says from now on im just his driver. which easy gig right lol? doesnt even care that i dont shower huhuh-

he got his big promotion today!!! he looked so smug and hot when he came down to tell me, and he promised wed have some fun about it when he got home tonight- just gotta drop him off at some stupid fancy dinner ill probably hit the gym while hes there. gotta keep it up or ill look like some fucking dweeb

plus that means ill get the car totaly filled with my bo- hell fuckin love that, after he gets a good whiff no way wil he not want to fuck then and there huhuh fuck, kinda needs to get that exercise in now that hes doing whatever bitchass shit they do all they day up there needs to give in and just fuck me finally its been so, ugh long and my balls feel so full, and im sweating so much god im fogging up the windows loli better be careful i need to keep it together until then urgh- 

god i just smell so fucken hot

[livelaughlovesubs]

okay my dude, have you seen the recent hsr leaks about mr. reca??2?2?2?2?1!#+@( I am so down bad for that man you wouldn't understand........ anyways, I'd like to ask for prompt 28 (fitting them with a collar) with him :3333

- anon

I saw!!! But I don’t have a single clue what his personality is like! I’d guess a fun but sly character? Welp, let’s see how this goes (I have no ideas help)

Dom!Actor!reader x sub!Reca - reader is GN

Warning: collaring, teasing, fwb…?

Anniversary event

“Oh come y/n, for old time’s sake, do it for me, alright?” You clicked your tongue, not even looking at the individual who was talking to you, back facing to them with your arms crossed, “I won’t do it, I told you already.” A moment of silence, before they sighed and closed the distance between you two, “why won’t you take that role?”

“Mr. Reca, will you please respect my choices?” Suddenly you turned around and raised your voice, seeing him lean against the couch in the middle of the room, wearing a fading smile. “I need you for that role, there’s no one else who can take it.” He repeated once again, then continued with, “and I won’t leave until I’ve convinced you, or, if you gave me a reason for your decision.” You slammed one hand onto the makeup table in front of you, putting the other against your forehead. “If I gave you a reason, you’ll have hope, and keep trying.”

The male kept quite, he couldn’t argue with that one, “if it because of the writing? Or the personality of the character?” You shook your head, “no, none of that. Don’t bother me any further, Reca, don’t let our friendship go to waste because of some measly dispute.” He scoffed, grinning widely, throwing his head back in a defeated stance, “I’ve already got sponsors and began the preparations, I can’t go back now. Y/n, help me out, I don’t want to end up as minced meat.”

You chuckled, answering his plead with a sarcastic smile, “it’s your own fault. Don’t worry, I can introduce you to some actors.” Reca looked down to his feet, taking a deep breath, exhaling, before staring you in the eyes, “no, I still want you, and I won’t have it any other way.” After debating for so long, you thought he’d finally crave in, though it seems you underestimated his resolve. “Reca, i-” “yea yea, you don’t want to, got it. So, what can I do to convince you?”

Your eyes widened at that, it took you a while to compose yourself, “wow, your resolve is admirable, but I don’t think I’ll fold.” The brunette stepped away from the couch, getting closer to you, mumbling, “don’t be shy now~ you can request whatever you want. A deal, of some kind, what do you think?” It’d be a lie to say you weren’t intrigued, just how far could you push his buttons, you wondered. “Whatever?” You repeated his words in a questioning tone.

“Whatever.”

“Do your movies mean more to you than your life?” You joked, shaking your head in disbelieve. “Let’s see what I can make you do.” His eyes lit up, his usual cheerfulness returned, “so you agree? Haha! You have my gratitude, y/n! Aeons, lemme kiss you.” Out of nowhere he hugged you and kissed you on the cheeks, both sides, before taking a few steps back. You on the other hand froze, blinking a few times, remembering his eccentric tendencies, then gagging out a, “don’t thank me- it’s a mutual deal.”

“Right, that reminds me, got any idea what you want?” Reca smirked again, he was in a usually good mood now. “I’ll just have you as my pet.” You eventually said, then you specified your statement, “ah, and I’ll only cooperate as long as you are my pet.” When you looked over at him again, his mouth hung agape, red eyes shrunk a little while he stood there like a statue. “…you are joking.” He asked carefully. “I’m not.”

An awkward silence broke out once more, luckily he broke the ice after a few seconds, though it was done with a condescending comment, “Right, you were an eccentric like that.” A breathy laugh escape you, “hah, says who?” You two kept eye contact for a while, then he gave up and hide his face in his hand, groaning, “urghhhhhhh.” A faint blush covered his ears, and probably his cheeks as well.

“So?” You questioned, wondering if that was too much for him. “What? Of course i agree.” Reca frowned, an embarrassed scorn on his face, why were you so nonchalant about all of this? After getting his consent, you couldn’t help but sigh, “You really are a slave to your production.” He grinned again, winking at you, “Aren’t we all slaves to our desires?”

You thought about it, opening the drawer of the furniture behind you, taking something out before taking a few steps closer to the rather tall male in front of you. “Yea, you are right, it’s a part of being human I guess.” Then you wrapped the leather around his neck, pulling gently, tightening it. When you were done, you raised his chin, teasing him with a hint of irony, “don’t take it off, it’s a gift from me, your master.” His breathing hitched, but he didn’t back down, feeling the weight of the situation finally catching up to him.

“I’m sure the movie will turn out great, all thanks to you.” He then stated, rubbing the collar around his neck, feeling a weird sense of comfort inside him. You nodded, “of course it will, I don’t tolerate failures.” Reca laughed softly, then whispered meekly, “right. For that, I’ll be a good pet in return, master.”

[hawkinsbnbg]

a perfect plan

prompt: plug | word count: 437 | rated: E | tags: established relationship, breeding kink, barebaking, slight mommy kink | @steddiemicrofic | ao3

"Please," Steve whimpered while trying to squirm away from the other man. "S’too much, Eddie."

“Just one more time, sweetheart,” Eddie pinned him down easily, folding him in half and sliding inside with one smooth motion given how loose he already was.

Steve keened, eyes rolling back as Eddie started pounding away, brutal and merciless.

They had been at it for hours now, and he kind of regretted having underestimated Eddie just because the other man had been lenient with him so far.

He should've known better than to let his mouth run wild and ask his boyfriend to breed him like there was tomorrow.

Then again, it was also Eddie’s fault for wearing those stupid coveralls, walking around in just a flimsy white tank top, covered in grease and sweat and tattoos.

When Steve dropped by the garage to say hello, Eddie had greeted him with a beaming smile as if Steve wasn't wanting to climb him like a tree.

He had pulled Eddie in for a quick kiss—deep and filthy—and whispered about their dinner date at his place before leaving with a pleased smile, already thinking about his perfect plan to get wrecked later that night.

By the time they stumbled into bed, Eddie had been on him within seconds, kissing him and stripping him naked quickly with those deft fingers.

When Eddie swiped out a condom, Steve had told him there was no need for it, and showed the man his plugged-up hole.

“You’ve been wearing this since dinner?” Eddie had grabbed the base and tugged it experimentally, prompting a mewl from Steve.

“Mhm,” Steve had held his knees up to his chest, putting himself on full display. “Didn't wanna waste our time.”

“Eager, aren't we?” Eddie had chuckled—low and full of gravel—and pulled the plug out, leaving him gaping and empty.

“C’mon,” Steve grabbed his cheeks to stretch his hole wider, impatient and wanton. “Knock me up, make me your housewife.”

“Jesus, you're gonna be the death of me, baby boy,” Eddie had groaned and lined up against his hole, blanketing him entirely with all those lean muscles and tattoos.

“Looks like I already am,” Steve had quipped and fell quiet once Eddie hit home.

And now, as he laid beneath Eddie and was forced to take everything, he had no one to blame but himself.

When Eddie pumped him full again, the man picked up the plug and shoved it inside him, kissing his damp cheek as he whimpered pitifully.

“Gotta make sure it will catch this time, Mommy.”

Steve moaned weakly. It seemed his plan had worked a little too well.