#so I had to suppose how certain features of his would look like from that angle at that moment and in that lighting

[nochepsicodelica]

Mornings with the clingy bear (Toji my beloved <3) when he wakes up before you, but there's no agenda for the day so he just gets to watch you sleep until you wake up on your own. Despite how much he dislikes when you sleep in without him, being able to admire your peaceful, sleeping features makes up for it. Who would ever assume that this sleeping princess could be capable of wreaking so much havoc, but also be the one screaming mayday? He swears you'll give him a heart attack one day. He's too old for your insanity, but god, he wouldn't ask you to change a thing and he's not dying to get away from you. Quite the opposite, actually. The closer you are, the better.

He was careful not to move too fast, to not wake you up as he traced your dormant features. Green eyes roamed over your lips, your cheeks, your nose and your eyes. He had to fight the urge to not roughly drag you closer towards him and squeeze the life out of you.

Your eyebrows pinch and your nose scrunches, your eyes still shut. "Ugh, it's like you're pointing a laser at my forehead," you croak, pulling the blanket up to cover your face. You're stirring under the blanket, on the brink of waking up. If Toji were a dog, which he's not because he's a bear, his tail would be thumping against the bed <3

You throw the blanket off your head, a lazy smile on your face that heavily contrasted your tone from a couple minutes ago. His attention causes you to giggle. He's so focused on you, it's hard not to laugh.

Finally, you're awake so he can pull you closer. You're already touching, but you're not wedged together and that's exactly what he needs in this moment.

"What's that giggle about? Huh?" He asks, pulling your body right up against his. His nose pokes your cheek, his lips resting on the space just below it, luring another laugh from you.

"You woke me up, like you always do, Toji. I can't ever sleep in with you," you say, no bite to your words at all.

"That's too bad, isn't it? It's why I tell you to go to sleep at a reasonable time yet you still go to sleep past midnight, hm?"

"Whatever."

"Mhm, whatever," he says, copying you. "Whatever, until tomorrow morning when I do it again, but with less mercy."

You groan and turn to face him. You can't even be annoyed with him when he looks so good.

"There are so many things you can do without me in the morning," you say, cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing his skin, affectionately. "You can... go on a walk or watch TV. Ooo, you can get breakfast going so that when I wake up, it's ready."

He mimics the gentleness of your touch on his cheek, his palm rubbing your lower back. "Don't wanna. That's boring."

"Tojii," you whine, removing your hand from his face, attempting to turn away from him.

"Without you," he corrects, using the hand he has on your back to prevent you from getting too far. "Why make breakfast alone when we can do it together?"

"You mean I cook and you either just watch or you get in my way?"

"You know it, mama," he says, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips.

"It's literally eight in the morning, Toji. You should be thrown in jail for disturbing my slumber," you say, attempting to distract him from the color that spreads onto your cheeks.

"Nah, you'd miss me." A smug grin creeps its way onto his lips.

"Mm..." you hum, acting like you're unsure if that's a certain fact. This is you wreaking havoc. You say and do a lot of things that drive him crazy, and now—with proof—even just humming out a response will do that to him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing at all," you say, the hint of a smile on your face.

"No?" If Toji were a dog, which he's not because he's a bear, his ears would be down and his tail would no longer be wagging </3

You sigh. "I'm messing with you. You know I would miss you like hell."

"Oh, really?" He scoffs, in disbelief. "You're ice cold for that, mama. Need me to warm you up, huh?" He says, gliding the hand he has on your lower back across the expanse to grip your waist.

You put your hand over his. "Nope. This blanket is keeping me warm. It does the job just fine."

"I'm better than the blanket," he argues, rolling onto you, unexpectedly.

You groan before you laugh at the feeling of the spontaneous weight laid on top of you, your chest barely able to move with the gesture because of the iron-like hold he had on you. An unbreakable bear hug, if you will :(

"Toji," you say, voice strained yet still managing to muster out your giggling. "Toji, you're crushing me."

"Mm..." he hums, dismissively. He buries his face into your neck, sparing some kisses for it while he listens up close to the sound of your groans of being compressed, mixed with laughter, as you try to push him off. This is you shouting mayday after the chaos you made for yourself and Toji has no intention of swooping in to save you from himself.

You eventually surrender, because all your pushing is futile against Toji, who wasn't moved an inch by you. Lying on you and holding you so tight was beginning to backfire on him. He was starting to feel more like a heated, weighted blanket on you, now. It was reeling in your tiredness, again.

"Mmm... I could fall back asleep like this. Please, can I, baby?" you mumble, shutting your eyes.

"Yeah? Now you're comfortable?" He asks, teasingly, while watching you relax under him.

"You're warmer," you admit. "And clearly more suitable for cuddling."

"You're trynna butter me up, aren't you?" He says, sighing into your neck, tiredness returning to him as well.

"Maybe... One more hour, baby. Please? All I need is one more hour," you say, bringing your arms up onto his back. "I won't complain later when you make me take a nap with you," you add, to further bribe him. "We can do anything you want, too. Nothing is off limits." You turn your head and press a kiss to his temple.

He sighs, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "It's hard to say no to all of that. You gonna be real sweet to me later today?"

"Of course. I'm gonna smother you and be so disgustingly affectionate that you'll want to sleep on the couch tonight for some separation."

He bites. Being loved on by you anytime sounds like a dream. Space will never be his response to your affection, when he thrives off of it.

"Fine," he grumbles, like it was hard for him to come to his decision. "Only one more hour. Gonna stay here, though, since i'm already comfortable."

[prettyboykatsuki]

chewtoy | s. gojo

✮ tags ; dead dove: do not eat, noncon, humiliation, abuse of power / power imbalance, master / servant relationship, titles like master satoru, he's being Really Fucking Weird (sniffs u a bunch...rip), oral(f!receiving) 18+

✮ wc ; 2k (????)

✮ a/n ; horrible horrible man. can he leave me alone. extension of this

"The young Master is calling for you."

You try not to flinch. Aiko gives you a warm, summery smile and a soft nudge to your side. You can only assume this means you've succeeded and she doesn't sense your disgust.

"He's so fond of you," She ends her sentence with a wispy sigh. "Must be nice to have a rich, powerful man fawn over you a bit, right?"

You remain indifferent. She smiles again. You think she is infinitely more beautiful than you. Soft, bouncy hair and smooth skin. Her naive nature makes her shine brighter than one thousand suns. It'd be nice if the young Master showed interest in someone like her.

You put the dream to rest quickly.

"You shouldn't keep him waiting," She hums. It's so innocent. "Go on, don't let me keep you."

You don't tell her you wish she would keep you. She is also right that you should not keep him waiting. If he's summoned you to his chambers deliberately, that means he is already feeling impatient. Master Satoru never seeks you out unless he is in some kind of mood.

He's had this habit since childhood. You've never made him aware of it, and you don't plan too. One of the few things you help you know what to expect from him.

You nod her along, tell her to finish up work in the living quarters to which she agrees merrily. Her spirits are lifted by the prospect of the young Master showing you fondness. Some part of you wishes you could share in her joy.

A pit of dread makes your steps heavy, but your footfall is light and beautiful. You are poised and cool as you walk along the dark, dreary hallways that lead to the Master's office.

A door swallowed in shadow, a single light shining on the golden plaque with the young Master's full name. You knock twice, announcing yourself.

"You're here," He says. You try not to flinch. You're certain you do not succeed. You are thankful he cannot see you - or you hope he can't. "Come in,"

You open the door and step inside to his office - shutting the door behind you. Muscle memory guides you to your curtsy. You bow politely.

"Yes, Master?"

"So stuffy," His voice makes your chest feel tight with discomfort. Frustration ebbs underneath it, cuts like a jagged edged knife. "At least call me, Satoru. Our relationship is much better than that, I thought."

"I could never be so informal to the young Master," You say, and then concede. "But I will call you Master Satoru, if you wish."

"How obstinate," He drawls. You do not life your head to see the face he makes. You already know what it looks like. It's burned into your mind. "But I suppose I'll make do. Lift your head."

You lift your head, but do not look at his face.

"Come closer,"

You step towards him, your lungs pushing air out of you manually. Remembering to breathe evenly is a herculean task. He beckons you closer until you're within distance of his touch.

He glances at you. "Look at me."

You try not to hesitate and force your eyes forward. His eyes undress you. Pointed gaze falls along your features, outlines your every inch, and analyzes your face. You remain even. He hums.

His frivolity is missing. This is suddenly more frightening. His mood is worse than you thought.

"Lift your skirt,"

Your muscles tense as you try not to shake. You succeed. He lets out a soft breath before he drops down onto his knees. You do not let yourself make any sort of expression, averting your gaze. He stares long and hard at your clothed pussy.

You tremble. He assess you silently, eyes flitting up.

"Sit in my chair with your skirt over your waist. So I can see you properly and all."

You listen to his instructions mindlessly. The velvet of his chair and warmth of his remaining body heat touch your bare ass and thighs. Satoru turns to you, still on knees. His hand wraps around your ankles and slips your shoes off of you.

You close your eyes. Sudden intimacy makes you slink back.

"Look at me."

It is is a command. You let your gaze fall on him again and watch on in excruciating nausea. Your stomach twists violently at the fragility of it all. Slender fingers hook into your knee socks and pull them down along your calve until they're off. His gaze catches yours. He does not smile at you. His hand comes around your ankle again and lifts your leg closer to his face. His nose presses against the bend of your foot.

He inhales. You try not to react but you can feel your eyes go wide. Feel your muscles clench, your heart sinking. Iron fills your mouth.

He lets his nose nudge up against the top of your calf.

"Young Master,"

He stares at you. Irritation flits through his gaze. There's no getting out of this, no mercy. You slink back again. He does smile that time.

Your body prickles with unwanted heat at the sensation. He licks along your legs, biting the supple skin - huffing the scent of your sweat every time he goes along. His teeth sink perversely into your flesh, sucking until there's throbbing, marks against your calves. The color of an orchid, purple and red. Fear strikes in you like a match. His grip on your ankles moves to the back of your calves and squeezes tight. He repeats the process on both calves intently.

There's claim to this. You know this part of him. He is claiming you with vicious confidence. Something with deeper magnitude then lust. For you, he is desire and ownership and want incarnat. A testament of his own beliefs. You willfully do no make noise aside from a gasp or breath.

You don't know how long it takes until he's satisfied with the state both legs.

He moves up. Bites the soft flesh of your thigh. You nearly spit out another useless plea. Shamelessness makes up his every move. His tongue slides over every single inch of your bare skin until his noses brushes along your cunt.

He doesn't lick you there. Not right away. Again he sniffs, breathes you in deep and uncomfortable. It's violating in all senses of the word, his grip tightening on your thighs as he huffs your scent. You haven't bathed. You've practically been running around since morning, but he doesn't let up and breathes you in anyway.

You squirm at that point. Your face contorts so slightly and he's watching you for it. His face finally cracks a smile and abject dread makes your spine lock up.

"Mm," He emphasizes the sound. It's so loud in such a quiet room. "That's it."

You don't have the strength to say anything.

It's frighteningly abrupt and rough, the feeling of his mouth along your pussy. He sucks at your clit from outside the fabric and you gasp - suddenly helpless. It's not the first time, of course not. But it's never this... random. Never this rough.

Your back arches at the sudden motion, face breaking - and Satoru grips you tighter and forces you back into the chair. Forces his tongue against your clit and sucks hard through the cotton material. Your body betrays you in its reaction - nipples pebbling underneath your clothes. Nearly screaming from the sensitivity. Your lower body is all ache - hickeys and bruises and bite marks making you throb perpetually. Too much, too much, too much.

Shame floods your system as the first spike of arousal forces itself from you - your cunt floods, gushing with a sudden spike of want from rough treatment. The sound of him sucking you so hard and drenching it with his saliva echoes across the room. You're sure it's traveling into the hall.

"Master Satoru," Your voice is even but it cracks on his name. Tears form at the corners of your eyes - fear and shame mixing into desperation. "Satoru,"

He hums into your pussy and you shake. "What is it? What wish would you like your master to fulfill for you.

"Please," Your voice is hoarse. Bone-deep exhaustion is out done by adrenaline. "Not through the fabric, please. It's dirty."

He sucks again and you keen - nails digging into your palms as you throw your head back.

"Your Masters spit soaking your panties is dirty? How rude." He teases. The whimper leaves your mouth without permission. You wish this would end soon but even amidst your fog you know that is not more than a pipe dream.

He takes them off. Rolls them down your thighs all wet and drops them. You let out a sigh of relief before his nose bridges touches your clit again. Swallowing the sound, you look away.

"It's soaked," He says conversationally, "Your needy little cunt is making a mess of your Master's chair. Tsk, tsk - so shameful."

"I'm sorry," You croak, unsure of what else to say. "I'll clean it."

He laughs, seemingly alleviated from his prior upset at the state of your humiliation.

"I'm sure you'll do an excellent job," He rests his hand over the mound of your sex - using pointer and thumb to spread your lips apart and get view of your swollen little clit. He breathes on it. "But you're still begging me for my attention down here. Filthy pussy for such a meticulous maid. Do you know how wet you are? Did you miss me so much?"

You don't answer him. He goes on.

"I thought of you all week," His voice is soft. Tinged with affection, or something like it. "Ahh, dealing with higher ups is such a pain."

You stare at him. He looks back at you with a smile. You flinch. You flinch certainly. "But I can always take it out on you, can't I? This perfect, filthy, needy cunt. It'll only every belong to me and I get to use it to my hearts content. I thought of that suddenly then called you."

It's not just your cunt he's interested in. That'd be relieving if that were the case. If he only ever used you to vent his sexual frustrations, treat you like a personal cocksleeve. You think it might be better that way.

He's too fond of you for that.

The young Master treats you like a chew toy instead. He bites, licks, slobbers, and misuses you. He might hump you to chase his high from time to time, might throw you around for rough sex should the mood suit him. But he's not a clueless oaf, some classless barbarian who only feels pleasure from his cock.

His violation is something else. It's deeper in scent, richer in taste. It is born from his greatness.

He's smart enough to know exploitation and that's what gets him off most. He exploits you. Exploits your reactive body, exploits your stoicism, exploits your dedication to your duty. You're his chew toy because you are designed to be unbreakable. You are indestructible.

But you have the perfect amount of give. You flinch, sigh, and whimper enough to make your Master thrilled. You squeak and moan like you're heat addled when he plays with you enough.

To Satoru, you're the most perfect thing to ever grace his life. His favorite toy that he's bitten at since he was just a boy and grew so fond of.

No matter how much you end up in tatters, Satoru can't help but love you with all of his heart.

You get exhausted being thrown around. But you can't go anywhere, either. He's so watchful of you. He might go crazy and bite if you were to disappear.

"Cum for me," He says, sucking on your clit much more softly. He's gentle but exact. Knows the ins and outs of your body enough to send you racing towards the edge with an unimaginable speed. You gasp and shudder, holding onto his chair for your life as an orgasm shoots through like lightning through a telephone wire.

You cum. You cum hard, bruised and mind-broken and nauseous and you cum so hard something spurts out of you and makes the chair wet. The young Master is nonplussed of course, and laps it up like a dog drinking water.

"Ahh, much better." He's pleased as he stands up and then bends down to your height. His hand cradles the back of your neck with a pleasant sigh as he forces a cum-soaked kiss onto your mouth. "Just as I thought, you were just what I needed."

Utterly defeated, you pull away with a gasp. "...I'm happy to serve you, Master Satoru."

"Such a nice sentence from your mouth, true or not." He gives you one more kiss, to the crown of your head. Too tender, too raw. "Prepare yourself to service me a bit more, then."

[solbaby7]

Make You Feel Something

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: sexual tension, some anxious themes, probably typos, some swearing, and two best friends—they might kiss

summary: You paint a certain Shadowsinger like one of those French girls

[ inspired by that quote “Art isn’t supposed to be perfect, it’s supposed to make you feel something.]

—

“Just stay still.”

“I don’t know—I feel like I’m not doing this right.”

You sigh, a soft smile stretching across your features watching Azriel attempt to stop his fidgeting. “You’re doing perfect, just get comfortable and lay there—I’ll do the rest.”

The paper was thick, a little yellowed but the charcoal in your hand seems to enjoy such conditions. Your back settles into the plush cushions on the couch, a throw pillow tucked against your thighs and every now and then you glance over the sketchbook to peer over at the partially bared body before you. “What’s this for anyway?”

“Practice,” You mumble, clearly distracted when roughly outlining the shape of him, the throne of a seat he was splayed over, shirtless with his fighting leathers hanging dangerously low on his hips and large wings shuffled behind him. “Why are you so nervous? You’ve been shirtless around me a million times.”

His left arm shifts again before you can draw the outline of it. “No one’s ever painted me before.”

“Technically, I haven’t gotten to the painting part yet. This will eventually become my reference photo for that.” The words don’t soothe him how you’d hoped and after a while Az is moving enough to have you settling down the charcoal, eyes sliding to his own. “What’s going on in your head?”

“I don’t know where to put my hands.” The shadowsinger sheepishly admits, looking more boyish than you’d seen him in centuries. Dark hair falls over his forehead and judging by the neat lines along the perimeter of his head, Az had recently gotten a haircut.

He attempts to hide his hands, tucking them behind his head or shoving them under pillow until you make a move to shuffle off the couch and finally it all makes sense. The fidgeting wasn’t because your best friend laid half-naked before you but the creeping insecurity of his scars ruining the final product. “Lay like this,” Azriel’s like putty in your grasp, malleable and easy to guide when you shift one leg to casually drape over the arm rest. He’s at a bit of an angle but the way you position him gives off attractive arrogance, effortless masculinity mixed with a boyish charm. “They’re beautiful,” Your voice is filled with uncapped love, lips soft when you take both of his hands in your own and press a kiss on the back of each. “Art isn’t supposed to be perfect—it’s supposed to make you feel something.”

Hazel eyes take you in, memorizing the slight furrow of your brow as you make a few final adjustments; his hands on full display while you mumble under your breath, something about the lighting and your nose scrunches a little when his shadows tickle at your cheeks. “What do they make you feel?”

There’s a brief pause and you can’t make eye contact for a few seconds, fearful that if you did your resolve would break and you’d be too busy trying to take his clothes off to worry about the poor beginnings of your drawing. “I couldn’t tell you honestly without ruining our friendship,” His brow quirks, throat bobbing with a gulp. “—but if I didn’t like them I wouldn’t have asked you to model for me.” Relief spreads when a smile tugs at his mouth, head dipping down to hide the warmth that blooms at his cheeks when you waggle your brows at him. He’s much more relaxed when you return to your seat, a slow breath releasing from you as you twist your neck, fingers gripping around the charcoal once more and Azriel can’t seem to take his sights away from you.

Painted toes wiggle softly at the edge of the cushions, bare knees drawn up and your hair is gathered in a ponytail. You hum when you focus, some song Azriel’s never heard of before seeming to aid in alleviating the self-consciousness and pleasantly distracting his brain. Five minutes turn into ten, then fifteen before Azriel breaks the silence, being sure to keep his body exactly as you’d placed it. “What’s that song?”

“Not sure,” His body was an artists dream, all hard lines and alarmingly perfect symmetry; the golden light casting through the room, scattering moody shadows along the angles of Az’s face and your thighs clench slightly when you’re forced to pay such close attention to the plush curve of his mouth. “My mom used to sing it when I was really little—can’t remember all of it but it calms me down.”

“You’ve seen me shirtless a million times, what’s there to be nervous about?” Your eyes roll at his harmless teasing, huffing at the way he’d thrown your words back at you and it’s become increasingly harder than you make it look to get a fucking grip on your body’s reaction to him.

The response is instinctual, fingers rubbing the page to soften edges and your brain wanders to what it would be like for real. “You’re not exactly hard on the eyes and I’m not used to having a reason for examining your body for this long.” The warmth of his skin beneath your hands. The free will to travel the contours of his muscles and kiss each and every scar, ripple and divot formed by countless hours of training and dedication. He’s easy to draw when you spend so much time oggling, bottom lip caught between your teeth when mimicking the lines of his abdomen, the inky trail of hair that disappeared beneath dark grey fabric. “It’s truly annoying how perfect you are—could probably get some sort of sexual gratification from how satisfying it is to draw you.”

There’s no room for embarrassment when Az is so easy-going, the same laugh you’d always yearned for pulling from his throat and you have to swat away a few creeping shadows from sneaking a peek before the final result. “I’ve never heard that one before.”

“It’s true,” The fireplace crackles behind you, a warm glow filling the room and kissing at the exposed skin of the model before you. Sharp jaw, soft smile; the hard line of his brows smoothed out by the light in his eyes—like sweet honey and sunshine. “I’ve never once drawn someone like you.”

“I’d hope not.” Azriel’s head tilts just a little, brows furrowed in thought. “Who else do you ask to get half-naked for the sake of practice?”

He’s fully aware of how it sounds—the jealousy lacing his tongue and you have to pull your hands away from the paper a moment before the slight tremble threatened to ruin the flow of the strands of hair you’d been steadily shaping around his head. “Not many seeing as I usually prefer painting models that are nude. I figured for the sake of our friendship I’d spare you.”

“Spare me?” He scoffs in a way that reminds you of Rhys, a little cocky and entirely too confident. “I’m not sure your heart would’ve taken seeing me nude. Certainly, it was me doing you the favor keeping the rest of my clothes on.”

Azriel’s skin goes hot at your lack of response, gaze sliding thoroughly over the length of his body from the top of his head to the very tips of his toes and a slow smile appears. “You sound awfully confident,” You shift in place, adjusting your legs and stretching out to see him better. “Take it off then.”

His mouth parts, words caught in his throat for a few beats of time before letting out a breath. His hands hesitate before untying the leathers and shimmying them down his thighs. There’s no hiding the desire that clouds your vision when taking in the simple black material that held snug against his cock. His thumbs hook in the waistband, shoving them down and tossing them aside.

It’s not the most simple task to tweak at the preexisting sketch, snuffing out dark lines and fading them into the background enough to make it easier to map out the thick lines of his thighs and calves—the generous length hanging confidently between it all. “I wasn’t sure you’d actually do it.”

“Should I not have? Are you uncomfortable?”

Your head shakes in denial, brows furrowed in focus and Azriel can’t place how it feels to be looked at as a specimen rather than a person. Your gaze is admirably respectful, quick glances with your tongue peeking through when perfecting soft lines and adding shading here and there. “Believe it or not, I couldn’t be more relaxed.”

He believes it too, your heartbeat is steady and controlled, limbs perfectly lax and Azriel is more than grateful for the view when you’re all laid out; sleep clothes shifting with each move and desire burns in his belly when you flick your ponytail off your shoulder, exposing the curve of your neck. “Where do you plan on putting this?”

“Nowhere, it’s private.” For viewing pleasure only, for those late nights when picking up a random male from Rita’s didn’t quite scratch the itch. “Once the painting is finished I’ll give it to you and keep the sketch for my portfolio.” You move on to his wings, tongue clicking against the roof of your mouth when you slide from the cushions, bare toes sinking into the throw rug when you stand before him. “Can you put those up higher?” Azriel complies with ease, craning his wings higher but the furrow of your brow doesn’t subside. “Spread them a little.” Your head shakes when he moves and you reach up, fingers millimeters away before glancing down at him. “May I touch?”

He should’ve said no—maintaining some sort of boundary because drawing him naked was one thing but standing before him asking to touch; all the resolve in the world wouldn’t be able to save him. Azriel’s mouth opens, intent on saying no but by some sick sense of self-indulgence he nods in agreement, eyes fluttering shut when the scent of your shampoo enters his space. Warm skin grazes his own and while the shadowsinger is a tense mess beneath you, you’re the picture of serinity, completely in your element when carefully adjusting the membranous wings how you pleased. He tries to hold it back but your hands are so soft and the rough groan that fills the silence has goosebumps raising.

“You can feel all of that?”

Azriel traces a finger up the outer side of your thigh, pausing at the hem of your shorts. “Can you feel that?”

“Right, stupid question.” Maybe you linger longer than necessary, tracing over a texture you’d never felt before; not leathery, softer than that but just as sturdy. Warm to the touch and they shudder when you smooth over the thin seam at top that fused everything together. “They’re beautiful.”

“I’m flattered, really,” His voice is strained, hands clenched in tight fists and when you glance down past inky strands, his cock is standing at attention against his stomach. “—but I think you’re overestimating my self-control.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Not unless you asked me to.”

The swallow you force down is audible, hands shaky when you tuck them back at your sides but you don’t make a move to step away this time. Instead, you stand before him, fingers coated in charcoal and there’s a little smeared at your collarbone. His hand is up and touching before common sense can deter him; pure fire burns beneath each fleeting touch, knuckles grazing at the curve of your jaw and there’s no hiding the rising beat of your heart when he wipes your skin clean. “Thanks.”

“You shouldn’t be thanking me,” His head falls back, words low and barely contained. The hands he pulls away keep drawing back like a magnet, touching greedily at the sides of your thighs and stopping at your waist. “I’m supposed to be helping you and my thoughts are not very helpful.”

Years of denying himself the simple pleasure of touch and the powerhouse of a male on the battlefield is reduced to a simpering baby, grappling for more touch, more of your silky clothes shifting against his skin and the sweet smell of vanilla and cocoa, sugar cookies and warm milk filling his nose when he pulled you in closer. Better judgement makes you wonder if you should pull away, find a way to comfort him and keep it friendly but the more distance that closes between you the more of that hard length you begin to feel against you. “Az—“ He doesn’t let the warning fully come to life, hands twisting behind the back of your knees until you’re sat above him, resting on bare thighs and your hands brace at his shoulders.

“I know,” Azriel repeats it over and over under his breath, face buried in the dip of your throat, mouth grazing at the sensitive skin there and the little whimper he draws from you has that hard cock between you twitching against your stomach. “I thought I could handle it but you just feel so fucking good.”

It was wrong.

So fucking wrong.

Shit like this never ended well; mixing fucking and friendship but while you kept thinking no your body stubbornly arched into his touch. You bared more of your throat to him when he buries his nose there, taking in your smell while he memorized the feel of you. The slope of your shoulders, the flare of your ribs and the soft curve of your stomach. You grind onto him, searching for more friction when Azriel follows the length of your legs down then up to cup the fat of your ass. “Take it off.”

You feel weak; too captivated to acknowledge your backbone when you tug the shirt from your head and throw it somewhere behind you. His mouth is insatiable when pressing kisses to every inch of exposed flesh, holding you closer with each breathy moan and whispered plea for more, more, more. Nothing could’ve prepared you for his mouth finally slotting over your own.

Azriel’s careful now, slow and attentive, maintaining a pace as you got to know one another in ways you’d only thought about when you’d snuffed out the fire for the night and shuffled under the covers, fingers hiked up your nightgown for a few minutes of uninterrupted pleasure. He groans into your mouth when tongues touch, fingers tangling in your hair to keep you close.

You hand slides between the two of you, wrapping around the stiff length of him and the moan he lets out has him sinking back into the chair. Preening under the attention you continue, gaze locked on the half-lidded hazel eyes before you, his arms flexing at his sides, hands holding onto your thighs for stability because your hands were so soft, holding him so firmly and the steady drags up and down was enough to have his thoughts muddled and hips bucking up into your touch. Swears spill from his mouth like prayers, pleading and begging for you to keep going and watching him crumble beneath you was a greater high than any smokes or powders. “Feels so fucking good.”

“You look good under me,” Draped across a throne like some entitled High Lord finally receiving his birthweight as promised. “You close already?” Azriel’s cock throbs in your hands, pre-cum oozing from his slit and the thumb that curls to swipe over it is torturous. “Poor Illyrian baby—I’ve barely even touched you yet.” A cruel laugh accompanies the choppy breaths and hazel eyes kept falling victim to the backs of his lids. “The High Lords spymaster. The feared Shadowsinger. A great warrior with seven Syphons to hold onto all that power and here you are,” Your pace speeds up, pure feminine satisfaction building when watching such manly power submit beneath a woman. “—falling apart just for me.”

You feel his release coating your palm and you use it for better slip when you keep going, riding out his pleasure until he’s pulling your hands away, chest heaving.

He watches you slip from his lap while he catches his breath, catching a towel tossed his way for the mess. “Clean up for me, I need to finish this before the lanterns burn out.”

Azriel doesn’t listen though, rising from the throne and clearing the distance between you in no more than three steps and his mouth is right back on your own.

Fuck it, some of the best art was left unfinished anyway.

[theyluvlyss]

𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 !

and it's me getting to write henry being a simp🥴🥰. thank you for requesting, I honestly didn't think I'd get any for henry danger, so just this one has me allll /ᐠo⩊oマ !!! So ya, enjoy :).

𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

《 ♡ 》 oneshot

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :

being the girlfriend of swellview's resident sidekick could be tough sometimes. always covering for him, constantly worrying about his safety, forever missing him...

but, regardless, he always made sure to remind you that you are the most important thing in his life. even if he has to wake you out of a dead sleep to do it...

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 :

fem!girlfriend!reader x henry hart - she/her/hers pronouns! - knows henry's super-identity/works with captain man!

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 :

during season four (and up) (vaguely) - it's mildly implied to be winter

𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 :

cursing (I think? I don't remember, but just in case lol) - yelling (in a jokey/lighthearted way tho) - henry being so boyfriend - a poison ivy knock-off gets featured in here cuz I thought it would be funny lmao - lmk if I missed anything /ᐠ~˕~マ.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ─��────────

As you stocked shelves and marked down certain pricey items for the holiday's swift approach, you couldn't help but huff. Couldn't help but wonder why it was you had agreed to such a position. Hardly anyone even comes into Junk n' Stuff! Why did you have to play pretend employee for a vacant audience when you could be down in the Mancave with Charlotte and Schwoz, observing and maybe even solving crime and mysteries?

At this point, you might as well have taken real a job at a real shop or store.

But, then again... you were getting the bonus perks of higher pay, given as your boss was a literal superhero. And, because of the fact that the whole of Junk n' Stuff was a front, customers were rare. It was like being on break from three to ten, only ever selling to the occasional old person looking for a rare trinket, or a curious kid looking to resell something "vintage." Whatever the case, you were on your phone for most of the time, and were always happy to work alongside your best friend and your superhero boyfriend.

The third perk, you realized, even if you weren't exactly on the field beside him. You supposed it wasn't all bad. It's not like a lot of other girls had the guilty pleasure of saying the same.

"I work at a fake mom and pop shop that barely gets any customers, but it's okay because it's just a cover up for my boss who's actually Captain Man, and his sidekick, Kid Danger, is actually my boyfriend. My best friend Charlotte and I work to keep him safe every other day, and to top it all off, I get paid more than what my parents make in a week."

You shook your head, huffing to yourself in amusement. Not only was it a mouthful to say, but it sounded insane. Not that you'd ever actually say it to anyone but yourself in your head. But, speaking- er, thinking of...

You pulled your phone from your back pocket, taking your focus off of the box of probably stale snacks you were stacking near the front desk and onto Henry's already open contact. You scanned over your thread of texts between each other, your last message from earlier in the day still left on delivered. You didn't take this to heart, already aware of how busy his missions tended to get. And dangerous, too, hence why you had initially sent...

─────────────────────

my man😙❤️

───────────

Be careful out there today, k?

Ily💞✨️

Delivered

─────────────────────

And sure, after checking now, seeing you'd been left on delivered the whole time mildly stung. But you understood and didn't allow that to be the thing that slightly dampened your mood. Instead, you remained worried for your boyfriend, contemplating if you should send another text his way. Or maybe even call him. Just to see...

You fanned the idea away, setting your phone face down on the floor and continuing to do your "job." Anything to take your mind off of the peril Henry could be facing right now, and the last thing he needed was you distracting him. You wouldn't be needy. At least, not right now. But you'd continue to wonder what was happening, where he was, what dangers he was facing...

"Oh...! (Y/N)."

You turned at the sound of your name, smiling as Charlotte stepped out of the elevator.

"It's past ten, I thought you'd be home by now."

"Me too...!" You sighed, a dry chuckle leaving along with. "I guess I was just subconsciously hoping Ray and Henry would be back by now."

Charlotte gave her own chuckle and an understanding nod at your half-joking confession, moving closer until she was squatted beside and assisting you with the rest of your stocking.

"I wouldn't worry too much. They got this. They always do."

"I know, it's just-"

"-Besides, it's only Greenleaf. And you already know..."

You two shot each other a knowing glance, finishing her sentence at the same time together before laughing.

"...She always folds for Ray."

As you set up the last of the snacks, the two of you stood, cardboard box on your hip while Charlotte had scooped up your phone and handed it back to you.

"You're right, you're right." You admitted, tossing your head from side to side with a shrug. "Plus, I'm pretty sure her goals are relatively Mother Nature related. Can't say I blame her."

"Excatly." Charlotte agreed. "She rarely ever does any real harm, so trust me, Henry will text you back before you know it."

And with that, you two shared your final goodbyes for the evening, and your fret had subsided. Like you said, she was right, Greenleaf more of a particular "low level" classified supervillain, which meant an easy battle. If you'd even call it that. You predicted that right about now, Ray was doing his best to appeal to her charm and romance to subdue her, and though gross... it always seemed to work, so you didn't question it.

With that in mind, you finally decided to call in, clocking out for the evening and daydreaming on the walk home of a hearty dinner, a hot shower, and the warmth and cozy of your bed.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

In the comfort of your room with your nighttime routine accomplished, you remained settled in bed with your eyes glued to your phone. Maybe not the healthiest option, but TikTok was very compelling in the late evenings. Especially when you needed a good laugh or a new song/audio to discover and add to your playlist. You scrolled endlessly, allowing the time to tick by without worry or care because tomorrow (in an hour or two) would be a stress free Saturday.

The millionth swipe upwards of your thumb brought you to your next video, a boy and a girl close in age to yourself participating in a trend that had been circling around for a little bit. It was cute, the way they both adorned wide, cheesy smiles, and their pajamas matched with each other. Even while they performed a popular dance, sticking to routine, you could sense the chemistry they had with one another through the screen. All of it ending with the boy scooping her into his arms, littering kisses across her face that she giggled at over the music.

If anyone asked, you'd be a little embarrassed to admit that you had let the video replay several times before giving it a like and then scrolling away. But, you couldn't - no - wouldn't deny the achy feeling it left you with.

Suddenly, you were no longer laughing at everything you saw and/or heard. No longer wishing to be on the app itself any longer because the ache in your chest was growing too much to bear. Too much for you to ignore, thinking about that random couple and their adorable antics.

How much it reminded you of your own boyfriend; how much you really did miss Henry. It wasn't like you didn't see each other often, practically every day. But it didn't stop you from always wishing to be near him, that he was with you. Family, school, and being a superhero did take up quite a bit of his attention, not that you doubted you were the fourth thing on his list. Selfishly, you assumed the second, at least...

But anyhow, in an attempt to rid yourself of the ache and to refrain from pestering him, you migrated from TikTok to your gallery, scrolling around until you reached a large cluster of pictures and videos from days past.

First thing, you were met with a short thread of silly pictures, Henry striking poses and making faces he'd forbid from showing to anyone, and you immediately sent them to Charlotte and Jasper agreed, for the sake of his dignity. Or just some random action shots, the complete blur of his figure due to moving too fast, which you would keep because they were still funny, after all.

But eventually, you came across a video, it automatically playing as you watched in reminiscence of your time at the mall together. You were both fresh from a Bath & Body Works, your phone's point of view shaking and aimed as though it were snooping around in your bag before pulling away and revealing your hand being held by none other than Henry himself.

"What'd ya' get me?" You chirped as though you hadn't just shown the audience already. But, it was clear you wanted to hear it from him at the time, both past/video and present you giggling at the way Henry shot a smirk your way with eyes that read, "Really?"

"What I always get you." He answered simply, looking ahead as you two walked. "The world."

"Harhar." You could be heard giving an equally sarcastic laugh before adding, "Yes, but specifically this time."

"Boba and (signature/scent)."

Again, both past/video and present you shared another laugh, and you were sure of the fact that you were admiring him shamelessly with your eyes full of love at that moment, just as you were now as the video went on.

"How come?" You pressed with glee, Henry's head shifting back towards you as he spoke.

"'Cause I love you. 'Cause you deserve it. 'Cause it feels gooood."

He laughed along with you at the way he elongated his words at the end of his sentence, a quirk he picked up from who-knows-where that always had you playfully rolling your eyes. In real time, though, the video had ended there, and you were swift to find another one, craving more of that feeling... that mock-comfort of Henry being with you when he actually wasn't.

It was the best you could do, for now, so you'd continue, snuggling deeper into your blankets and pillows while his voice kept ringing out from your phone.

"You smell really good." Was his first comment, ironically per the last video, stated while you admired yourself in selfie mode before switching to the back camera.

He was already stalking closer towards your position on his bed, in his room, before flopping down right into your lap and looking up at you like a puppy.

"And I love your eyes."

"My eyes?" You questioned, as though you were surprised, or as if he should be talking about someone else's.

"Mhm." He nodded slowly. "Your beautiful eyes and those lips of yours. You're too perfect, y'might have to get that checked out or something."

Your laugh at his joking statement caused the camera to shake, and it made you realize that in the moment, you had missed the way he continued to behold you. To cherish the rest of your features and run his hand against your lower stomach as his face flushed with red at the sound of your giggles. Laughter he caused, which made him happy, you assumed, given the way he couldn't even fight his own smile.

You wished you hadn't missed it all at the time, but were glad you were seeing it now; all of his love that then went poured into one gesture before the video ended.

He brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles with a gentleness you were still currently missing, the video ending, and the silence of your room setting in.

It didn't help the ache like you thought it would, possibly even making it worse. And because of that, you thought it wise to call it a night, giving your messages one more check before making the last minute choice to send another. A final one for the evening, because at least that would bring you peace of mind.

─────────────────────

my man😙❤️

───────────

Be careful out there today, k?

Ily💞✨️

Delivered

Goodnight

I love you sm<3

❤️✨️

Delivered

─────────────────────

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

"So, uhh... you ever try Olive Garden?"

The woman, hair fiery red and a fitted suit made from the vines and plants she created (which were now being chopped away at by police in light of her villainous attempts), shot the man, Captain Man, a look of confusion and disgust. If her wrists hadn't been bound by handcuffs, she'd send another vine after him just for his obliviousness.

"No. I would never in my life..."

She didn't even have to finish her sentence, the tone implying that she wouldn't be caught dead eating from a place that required slaughtering animals and ripping plants from the ground just to serve "fine" cuisine.

"Is Olive Garden not vegan?"

Greenleaf couldn't even fathom a rebuttal to such stupidity, that fact clearly written all over her face as she was hauled away by more policemen. Ray, of course, didn't exactly catch on but jumped at Henry's shout from behind.

"Dude...!" A pause, striking out a hand to further enforce his demand. "Stop flirting with the supervillain...!"

"I'm-! . . ." Ray couldn't even deny that he was doing such a thing (granted, Greenleaf is an attractive woman), but would take advantage of his older age anyhow, pointing an index finger towards his younger partner sternly.

"Mind your business! Unlike you, Kid Danger, I have had the pleasure of time, which has allotted me the grace of perfecting my wit, savvy, and charm, I'll have you know. So-"

He was interrupted by Henry's gloved palm resting against his face, serving as a method to stop him from strolling any closer while Henry casually scrolled through his phone, his tone all the same.

"Hang on, my girlfriend just texted me."

Ray scoffed, seconds away from letting Henry know that he shouldn't be distracted on the job. That is, until he continued to go on with a flat tone, underlying bits of hilarity under it in attempts to get under Ray's skin.

"Y'know, the thing you don't have? The girl I used my natural born wit, savvy, and charm on to win over?"

"I get it!!"

Henry looked up with a smile at Ray's exclamation, innocently nodding with a swift, "Yeah." before putting his attention back to his screen.

─────────────────────

my wife❤️

Be careful out there today, k?

Ily💞✨️

9:23p.m.

Goodnight

I love you sm<3

❤️✨️

11:37p.m.

─────────────────────

What had been giddiness at first morphed into a feeling of guilt, thoughts of your saddened face sinking deep into his brain the moment he realized he had missed your texts. That you had apparently even gone to bed without hearing so much as a word from him all evening.

And sure, he knew you'd probably excuse it the next day, simply telling him that it "was fine" and that you "understood." And while that might be the case, he couldn't help but give in to the thought that you'd much rather have gotten to hear from him tonight. At the very least.

Besides, it's not like he didn't miss you, too. He missed you a lot, actually. You constantly on the brain every single time he fought and/or solved any crime, because if there was one person he'd guarantee the safety of while being in Swellview, it was you. But, along with your safety, he also wanted to make things up to you. He wanted your happiness. And he knew he was one of the sole people who could provide that, therefore...

"Alright, I gotta' get outta' here."

"What?" Captain Man blinked rapidly, unexpecting of Henry's sudden announcement of departure. "No-! No, we have to clean up this mess. Look at all of these vines!"

"Yep, it's...quite the jungle." Henry admitted lacklusterly, nodding to himself before throwing a thumb over his shoulder and slowly backing away. "But, uh, it's Friday, and..."

"Exactly! Friday night, no school, which leaves you plenty of time to help me out. You're on clean-up duty tonight, bud!"

Henry, again, nodded along with Ray's words. He continued to take his giant steps away from the scene, talking fast and only thinking about you in the process, hence why his logic came out a little more than flawed...

"Right, except no, because last I checked, the saying goes, "Blow bubbles fight crime, feels good." Not, "Blow bubbles, fight crime, clean up a mess that's not mine." And, I gotta be honest, that would not feel very good. It would actually feel baaaad, which is exactly how you-know-who is probably feeling right about now..."

"Don't even say her name, kid."

A pause lingered in the air before Henry disobeyed direct instruction.

"I gotta go see (Y/N)."

And he was gone before the conversation could continue, Ray left on his own to help the police with deforesting the city's town hall. And, as much as it behooved him to do so, he couldn't help but admit to himself that if he was still Henry's age with a girl like you, he'd probably do the same.

He huffed, giving his sidekick the benefit of the doubt for tonight.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

Tossing and turning slowly as you woke, you hadn't yet processed what it was that had actually brought you from your slumber until you were fully sitting up in bed, finally able to recognize the sound as a gentle knock.

This then alarmed you, your head whipping around your surroundings in a flurry in an attempt to pinpoint the sound that had spiked up your heart rate in the dead of night. But, once you had managed to place the noise coming from your window, your fear settled into more of a light curiosity and confusion. It brought you from your bed, your feet now met with the cold air around you as you crept forward towards your window.

Steadily pulling back your curtains, your caution slowly turned into joy and surprise, a smile spreading across your face that matched the one on your boyfriend's own face behind the glass.

"Henry...!" You whisper-shouted, his name muffled as he watched you move to unlock your window. He was grateful that you were quick with this action, no longer having to mildly shiver outside while you pulled him through and onto your bedroom floor, admiring his figure in the dimness of your room.

"It's so late, what're you doing here?"

Your question escaped in the midst of a yawn, rubbing the sleep from your eyes while his own darted back to where the clock sat on your nightstand.

12:54a.m.

"I know, I'm sorry, (N/N). I didn't mean to wake you." He apologized, using a nickname that brought another smile to your face once the yawn had passed.

"I just...didn't want you to think I was ignoring you, y'know? I would've answered your texts sooner, I was just-"

"-I know." You cut in with a nod. "I understand, it's okay."

He laughed quietly to himself, all too correct about your compassion when it came to him that he sometimes felt he didn't fully deserve. Like now, keeping his hands hidden behind his back with something that'd hopefully make up for it all.

"It's not, though. I wanna be fair to you with my time. Want you to know that I care about you and that I'll be there for you, whether I'm Kid Danger or just Henry Hart."

"Woah, hey, you're not... just Henry Hart." You corrected, coming closer and placing a tired hand on his shoulder. It was only here that you realized he wore nothing but a white t-shirt, the rest of his super-apparel tied around his waist, red cargo pants and combat boots still intact. Pretty on point symbolism for the moment, if anyone asked you...

"You... are Henry Hart. You're my boyfriend with a lot on your plate, and I know that it's just not fair of me to expect all of your time, which is why I don't. But no matter what, I do love you for giving me whatever you can, so it's very much okay."

You didn't have to be able to see his face clearly to know he was probably just as red as he was in your videos from earlier, his bashful smile going hidden when he let his head drop for just a moment.

"I love you, too." A pause before he quickly debunked your reassurance with some of his own. "And it's not okay, which is why I got you these..."

And suddenly, you realized why he had kept his hands hidden behind him like some wise old man, revealing to you a bouquet of flowers of all kinds. An almost randomized assortment that'd be pretty hard to find in any flower shop. At any shop at all, given...

"Oh my gosh, they're so pretty! It's like, midnight, though, where did you get these?" You squealed quietly, doing your best not to wake up any family in the house while you took the flowers into your hands and admired them the best you could under the moon's light.

"Uhh..."

Henry really didn't know how to answer that, scratching the back of his neck in remembrance of his horrid sneak attempt through his neighbor's backyard.

"I stole 'em." Was what came out way too nonchalantly, leaving you to choke on air while your eyes widened.

"What...?! Henry-!"

"I'm kidding, I didn't steal-... Well... I mean, technically, yes, but not in the way that you're thinking."

"I don't know what I'm thinking...!" You burst through confused laughter. "My boyfriend just told me he stole flowers for me. From where?!"

His eyes shifted from you, to the side, and then back again, folding at the sight of your expecting face looking back up at him.

"My neighbor..." His voice strained quietly, and you could all but sigh and shake your head, letting your nose bury itself back into the makeshift bouquet of freshly stolen flowers.

"That old lady is gonna strangle you with her bare, wrinkly hands."

Henry snorted, sparing you his impulsive thought of the fact she'd have to know it was and catch him first, and instead, fake pain at your light slaps to his chest.

"You're supposed to be a superhero, not a midnight theif...!"

"Hey, c'mon..." He cooed, tugging you closer and smiling when you did begrudgingly move forward towards him.

"...You know I'd go rogue for you any time."

"Y'know, I'm starting to miss Kid Danger." You quipped with a smirk. "At least he'd know better than to pluck flowers from someone's garden."

"Mmm. Fair." He nodded before obnoxiously pushing his forehead up against yours. "But does he kiss you the same way I do?"

"Mmm-"

And before you could pretend to debate the matter, he had done just that, forever gentle with you as he placed his lips on yours and stole any thoughts, stability in your legs, and air in your lungs you had left.

Well, maybe not steal. You'd let him have that any time, the same way he'd bring you flowers at midnight to make up for any of his absences.

Just the thought had you breaking the kiss with another giggle, your turn to grow shy at the attention before you were finally able to fully heal the last little remnants of that ache in your chest.

"You should stay."

You threw it out as a casual suggestion even though you were practically screaming inside for him to say yes. And of course, you got your wish, because what wouldn't he do for you?

"I will."

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭, 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐨🤭...

but seriously, I really hope you enjoyed, this was super fun and cute for me to write. got me wishing he was under my tree for xmas😔✋🏽.

also, I apologize for this taking as long as it did, there's reasons I have that will be later explained in a separate post/announcement, so ya :'D.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 :

@junknstufff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :

3,877

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 :

none :(

[k-aay]

WHAT... MY GIRL?

synopsis :: when their friend confesses to liking a certain someone that they are very familiar with. but they cannot do anything since they're supposed to keep the relationship a secret. and it's someone they'll never let go no matter how close they are. so what do they do in that situation? featuring :: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna (part 1/2)

☆ GOJO

As he walks over to his friend through the crowded party, he notices him staring intently somewhere. Being the nosy little brat he is, he decides to search where his eyes meet. So he traces it through his eyes, finding the "entertaining" sight his best friend has his eyes on. To his surprise, he didn't like where this was going. He was admiring you as you talked with other people, of course Gojo couldn't blame him for staring at you like that. But, he had to be sure before he did anything stupid.

"What's so interesting?" he questions, tracing his fingers over the rim of the red, plastic cup. His sudden question snaps his friend out from dazing off in you. "Oh- uh." He sighs, taking a moment to think before speaking. "I shouldn't be telling you this," Geto begins. Gojo's heart started beating faster, feeling nothing but nervousness was over him. "You know y/n, right?" Then, he feels his heart shatter. You walk towards the table with all the drinks where they were, causing the two of them to go more silent. "...Yeah?" he answers. "I think I like h-"

"Stop." You hear the sudden seriousness in your boyfriend's tone, causing you to wonder what the two of them were talking about. "What?" Geto was confused at the quick mood-switch in his best friend. "I shouldn't be telling you this but y/n and I are together." You flinch at the confession he made loudly to his best friend. He knew what he was doing and knew that he was going to get an earful from you later on.

But when it came to the idea of someone-even his best friend-being with you, he couldn't help it. "She's off-limits."

☆ GETO

For him, it was normal for his best friend to be with a different girl each week. Geto knew that he would never take any of them seriously and would end their relationship once he felt bored. Which was very often. So when he saw him attempting (key word: attempting) to flirt with his new target, he thought that it was nothing out of the ordinary. Until he noticed the beautiful and memorable figure he could never forget, the one of his own girlfriend.

It killed him that he couldn't just punch Gojo in the face for even thinking about you in that way. It wasn't just the fact that you were already taken by him, but the fact that even if you weren't, Gojo would get bored of you after a week and toss you to the curb like all the other women he played. And to Geto, you weren't just some random source for his best friend to get entertained by. You were his girlfriend. He walks up to the two of you, not even planning on the move he's going to make once he reaches you.

"Hey, what are we talking about here?" he interrupts Gojo from telling the same story he told all the other girls he's flirted with. You could see the irritation in his eyes and how his fists were clenched, physically restraining himself from making a scene. As Gojo continued blabbering, Geto wrapped his arm around your waist. "That's great, man. But you're going to have to find someone else, y/n over here isn't available right now."

"Why are you acting like this so suddenly, Suguru?" he smirks, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Because this is my girlfriend that you're flirting with right now. Fuck off."

☆ NANAMI

Nanami isn't one for getting into unreasonable trouble unless, in his opinion, the situation absolutely calls for it. He's not one to stoop so low to be jealous. He had no reason to. That was until his friend walked up to him, looking all giddy. He rolled his eyes, knowing it was going to be something stupid. But he let him share his thoughts anyways. "What?" Nanami questioned. "Hmm? Nothing," Ino spoke. "Okay," the man spoke flatly, not having the energy to pursue this further.

"Fine, I'll tell you." The shade of pink painted Ino's cheeks as he was smiling uncontrollably. It felt like he was a middle-schooler confessing to his crush. "You know that one girl," he begins. "You're going to have to be more specific. There are many women on this planet." Ino rolls his eyes, "y/n. She's so pretty!" This is when the situation called for "unreasonable trouble." He didn't know what to say, many thoughts rushed to his brain as he thought of the best response.

"I heard she had a boyfriend," he says. The sparkle in Ino's eyes flashed away. "Really!?" he yells. "Who? How do you know? Who told you?" Nanami knew he dug the hole deeper when the mountain of questions were spat at him. "Umm. I'm not sure who her boyfriend is and I heard it from one of her friends." Ino took a moment to think before he shrugged his shoulders, "Maybe her friend is lying to you. I'll just ask y/n myself."

"No!" Nanami yells suddenly. Even he was taken aback from his sudden reaction. "Damn, are you okay?" Ino flinches. "Yes, I'm okay. I'm not sure it's a good idea to ask her though." He fixes the positioning of his glasses. "Why not?" Nanami's cheeks started turning a suspicious shade of pink. "She's... in a relationship. With me. So don't ask her out."

[skyahri]

Soul |Ryomen Sukuna X Reader| HC

Summary: Sukuna meets the reincarnation of the only person he's ever loved.

Warnings: Implications of sex? Female pronouns. Reincarnation. Fear and anxiety.

- - - - -

"Rin..."

It came out like word vomit before Yuuji could even process what he was saying.

You looked at him, confused. Your name wasn't Rin and you'd never met this man before. Who did he think you were?

He slapped a hand over his mouth. Sukuna had forced his way to the surface just to ramble out a name? In all these years as his vessel, he'd never done something so trivial.

Sensing the flicker of cursed energy, Gojo, Megumi, and Nobara prepared themselves. It'd been a while since Sukuna had tried anything. Some sort of pact he'd formed with Yuuji kept him mostly content, although they weren't sure what it entailed.

It happened in the blink of an eye; Sukuna had taken over and stood directly in front of you, one hand flat on your chest and the other on your face.

"Rin... I could never forget the feel of your soul."

Your heartbeat fastened. An overwhelming feeling of fear fell onto you, rendering you unable to move.

What would you be able to do anyway? He's a God, and you had no abilities outside of actually seeing the damn things.

You had no idea what he was talking about. Your name isn't Rin and you'd never had any kind of encounter with either men until just now.

Megumi tried to move forward, but Gojo stuck an arm out in front of him. Something was off about the way Sukuna was acting, and he didn't think it was threatening.

It would be best to see how this played out instead of possibly starting a war that was never meant to begin in the first place.

"What are you doing? We can't let her-"

"Hold on."

They watched as Sukuna looked you up and down, inspecting your robes, hair, and face with a certain softness. His face was still hard and his movements still confident, but there was just that feeling.

"You look so different, but thats to be expected. Are you fairing well?"

You swallowed hard. His delicate touch did nothing to soothe your nerves. If anything, it only confused you more. He was tucking your hair behind your ear, giving you some sort of smile, and yet you feared he was going to rip your heart right out of your body.

"Um..."

Really, how were you supposed to respond? What sort of answer was he expecting? What were the consequences if you were to answer incorrectly?

Were you meant to comment on how you supposedly looked different? Was it your features? Your clothes? Your haircut?

"I'm scared."

Sukuna paused. You were horrified to have answered wrong, and now you could only hope he wouldn't kill you.

But he did something unexpected; he laughed. A thick, hardy chuckle that made your blood run cold.

Was this the end? How pitiful. Slain on a random Tuesday afternoon all because you wanted to meet up with an old friend. That's not a proper death.

"A thousand years and countless reincarnations, yet you still know how to make me laugh."

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your forehead. You only had a moment to panic before a lifetime of memories filled your mind.

You remember the time before modern civilization when you relied on hunting in the woods and crops from the neighbor's farm.

You remembered your parents, siblings, friends, and other villagers. You remember your home on the outskirts of town just against the forest line.

But most importantly, you remember Sukuna.

You remember meeting him as a human, and then several years later as a curse. You faced off against him, and although you couldn't beat him in the end, you'd come close enough to earn his respect.

He stood above you, two arms crossed, one on his hip, and the other outstretched to offer you a hand up.

Who were you to refuse such a gesture from the king of curses?

He allowed you to join his temple alongside other followers of his with the condition you devoted yourself to him entirely. The offer was presented as a choice, but the alternative was death, so any reservations you had were null.

You wanted to go with him anyway, but that's beside the point.

From the very beginning of your journey with him, it was made clear to everyone that you were 'special' and not to be bothered.

This fact didn't hold up too well with some of the others, but what were they to do about it? Argue with Sukuna? Tell him they were more deserving of his attention? How pathetic.

He allowed you privileges that would only ever be known to you, like dining with him or joining him on trips. These small pleasantries became grand ones, like sharing his bed and allowing him to claim you.

Your relationship was equal from then on. You were not just a follower of his anymore. He was just as devoted to you as you are to him, and he ensured you knew it.

He'd always make sure to tell you how special you were, that he was taking his time with you and granting you pleasure. How you were his favorite, and no one else could even compare. How others had not been so lucky in the past.

He'd escort you to and from the hot springs, have humans bring you flowers and jewelry, and allow you to see the most vulnerable aspects of him.

He promised his love for you would never die, and here he is a millennia later proving true to his words.

Once the unrelenting onslaught of memories subsided, your hands met his- one still on your chest feeling your heartbeat, and the other slid partway into your hair- and all you could do was appreciate his presence.

You stared up at him. His face was different, but that intense look in his eyes was all the proof you needed that he was still the same man from all those years ago.

Tears beaded up in your eyes and quickly dripped down your cheeks. Crying had never been your thing in the past, but you didn't care to stuff the feelings down. Such a reunion was an occasion enough.

"My love," you whispered.

He leaned his forehead down to meet yours.

"My Queen."

[moonchildstyles]

hiii i was wondering if you would write a blurb about vamp h taking care of a drunk y/n lol i think it’d be awfully cute omg or a girls night out (+ one vampire) and he’s like trailing after her trying to keep her out of trouble

wordcount: 3.9k+

—————

"Darling, are you certain you are not going to be cold?" 

Twisting and turning in the mirror, her dress ruched over her body in tight folds, it took all of (Y/N)'s effort to keep her smile at bay. "I'm sure I'll be fine, H. It's not that cold out, and we won't be spending much time outside anyway." 

It was clear he still wasn't pleased at her answer with the way he folded his arms across his chest and set his mouth in a grim line. (Y/N) had to bite back her smile lest he see her amusement from where he was leaning against the doorframe to her closet. He hadn't moved much from where he'd started the night watching her try on practically every outfit she had stuffed into both their wardrobe and closet. 

She could feel his eyes on her as she smoothed her dress over her thighs, pulling down the hem another inch before ruching it back up. Counting down in her head, she had to keep herself from laughing when he followed the same pattern he'd curated for the past ten minutes.

"What if you fall ill? Or the weather changes while we're out? Y'could freeze before I have a chance to warm you."

This time, she couldn't stop the laugh from falling from her lips. She stopped her assessment in the mirror, turning to Harry with her amusement clear on her features and a cant of her head.

"H, c'mon."

His own expression tightened, his stubborn streak peeking out. "Come on, what?"

Stepping towards him on bare feet, (Y/N) peered up at him. "I know you think humans can't handle anything, but, honestly, do you really think it's that easy for me to get sick or freeze to death?"

They both knew well that Harry had done his share of research when it came to anything human. Especially after bonding and ensuring (Y/N) wanted to be at his side for their forever, he'd deep dived into anything and everything human to refresh his knowledge and become the most perfect beloved he could be—including knowing just how to take care of her. He knew better than to assume she would drop dead after a gust of wind. 

Despite the stubborn line of his jaw, he relented, "No." 

"Then, why are you so nervous about tonight?" she crooned, wrapping her arms around his middle with her chin set on his chest. 

His palms ghosted down her back, leaving a chilled trail just barely felt through the fabric of her dress, until he stopped at the bottom of her spine. His touch was delicate. She could see the whole of him softening the longer she looked up at him. 

"You know I worry about you," he murmured, "Anything is possible when it comes to humans. I dread testing the limits when it comes to you." 

As much as she teased him and found his concern over something as simple as a breeze something to laugh over, the root of it all was something that had her softening. It was hard not to hear his words and grow tender. 

"I promise I'm going to be okay, Harry," she told him, "I'm going to bring a jacket, and you're meeting us after dinner, anyway. If I feel like I need more than my jacket I can text you and let you know." 

Though she knew he would never be one hundred percent pleased with her answer unless it was her layering up with all dangers padlocked away from her, this seemed to be enough for him as he sucked in an unnecessary breath. 

"I suppose that will work," he sighed, overdramatic as always, "You are rather strong." 

Stretching to the tips of her toes, (Y/N) pecked a quick kiss to the soft of Harry's lip. "I promise I'll be okay. Thank you for worrying about me, though." 

He chased after her when she pulled away, craning his neck to steal one more kiss before she landed on the flat of her feet once more. "'S a privilege, m'love." 

It was poetry like that that almost had her agreeing to wrap up in layers and layers complete with a shell of bubble wrap before she left the house. 

————— 

Harry couldn't keep the frown from his face as he parked across the street from the nightclub he was meeting (Y/N) and her friends at. He'd never been to an establishment like this before (minus blood clubs but that was an entirely different concept that appealed to his more baser needs, so it didn't count), and, judging by the specimens he could see pouring in and out, he would have liked to keep it that way.

But, this was where (Y/N) had asked him to meet her and there was no way he was going to let her down. 

He was just going to have to hold his breath, he decided. Before setting foot inside, he was sure he would not be a fan of the scents perfuming the building. 

It would only be a few hours, he reminded himself as he stepped out of his car. Hours like this were a minute compared to the eternity of his existence. He could handle tonight without a doubt.

The slight breeze in the air (he didn't even want to think about (Y/N)'s bare legs enduring this wind) pushed open the unbuttoned lapels of his shirt. He hadn't been sure what he should wear for the night, but he took some cues from (Y/N)'s dress and heels when he decided to pull a shimmering satin piece from the wardrobe and fitted black trousers. Looking at the young men walking in and stumbling out of the nightclub, he wondered if they were underdressed or if he was overdressed. 

That concern didn't last long, though, pushed aside once he heard a familiar peal of laughter pouring out of the swinging door of the nightclub. What he was wearing was pushed to the back of his mind then, his priority shifting. He needed to get inside and ensure (Y/N) was alright just like she had promised. 

Making it to the entrance of the nightclub, Harry was stopped by a man tucked away in a cubby by the door. He was dressed in all black, a bored expression on his face when Harry approached. 

"Hey, how are you?" the man asked, barely looking at Harry as he spoke. 

A furrow pinched Harry's brow. "I am well, thank you." 

At his abrupt tone, the man finally chanced a look at Harry. He lingered for only a moment on his stern expression before seemingly shaking it off. "That's great, man. Can I see your ID?" 

The man set his hand out, palm up in expectation. The knit in Harry's brows tightened that much more at the ask. This never happened at the blood clubs from what he could remember; why did it matter who he was before stepping inside? 

Nonetheless, he pulled out the (forged) ID out of his wallet, passing it off to the man with a quick flash of his hand. The man barely glanced at the piece of plastic before he flicked his eyes back up to Harry with a slight smile curling his lips. 

"So, you're Harry," the man pointed out, passing back Harry's ID. 

Pocketing it, Harry wasn't sure what this man was trying to get at, but answered him nonetheless, "Yes. That's me. Why?" 

The man shook his head, a small laugh falling from his lips before he stepped away from the door. "Nothing. Your girlfriend just made sure to let everyone know you were coming tonight. She'll be excited to see you."

Mumbling a thank you to the man, Harry stepped around him and entered the nightclub. While it was a sweet thought that (Y/N) had boasted about him to the nightclub staff, he wasn't sure why she would go through all of the trouble. It wasn't like her to bubble off to strangers. 

The lights were off, leaving the bar lining the back of the space with only a dim glow for the tenders to work by. The main floor, full of people dancing (at least that's what he thought that was what they were doing. Harry couldn't be sure, and he truthfully didn't want to look close enough to find out) was the darkest space with only pumping strobes and multicolored spotlights to be the only guides. Here and there were tall tables stationed by the bar and rounded booths tucked into the walls, no seat left unclaimed despite the busy dance floor. Scanning his eyes over the packed bodies, Harry searched for a familiar dress or the peak of a familiar scent, hoping to find (Y/N) somewhere. 

His hunt didn't take long, finding (Y/N) with a few other girls he was familiar with only through photos on the far edge of the dancing crowd. He was only able to catch a view of her profile, where she had a lazy smile on her lips and her lashes sitting half lidded over her eyes. There was a cup in her hand, the neon liquid almost empty between shards of ice, though she still managed to slosh it almost to the edge with every uncoordinated sway of her body. 

Harry didn't waste any time before he was meandering his way through the throng of bodies, keeping his breath stilted so as to not bother his senses with the scent of so many others that were not his beloved. It was bad enough he felt the heat of their bodies and the unnecessary brushes against him, he didn't want anything more from him to invade his senses. 

Just as he hit the edges of their little group, (Y/N) stumbled on her heels, her features falling. In a rush, Harry was at her side, saving her balance and settling her back on her feet. A bewildered expression crossed her face, one he was sure matched her friends who all had eyes on him as well. Though the second she recognized his chilled touch and the familiar hands wrapped around her arms, she loosened back into her oblivious state. 

"Harry!" she cheered, completely forgetting about her almost finished drink when she twirled on her feet and threw her arms around his shoulders, "You're here!" 

His bunched muscles finally relaxed, allowing him to reciprocate her hug. Dipping his head down, his cheek pressed to hers with his lips by her ear, he murmured, "'M here, love. Are y'alright?" 

"Yeah, why?" she bubbled, seemingly having wiped the stumble right out of her mind already.

It didn't take Harry's extra senses to notice the vodka on her breath, though he was sure he was the only one that could notice the sharp edge added to her scent from the alcohol. With how saturated it was, she hadn't just started her night at the club. That would at least explain why she had made sure to alert the man out front that her boyfriend (a silly title, but cute nonetheless) was on his way.

"No reason," he smiled, dropping his hands to sit on her waist, "Are y'having fun?" 

"I am! I'm so happy you're here now! I've been telling everyone that you were coming, and now you're here!" 

The glaze over her eyes was enough to draw Harry in, his lips curling into an amused smile. He'd never seen her anything past a bit tipsy. Drunk (Y/N) was a person he'd never met before.

Before he had a chance to offer any kind of response, using a surprising amount of her strength given her state, she pulled him along before presenting him to her friends. 

"Guys!" she bubbled, catching the attention of the rest of the women, "Look who's here!" 

One of the women looked decidedly more sober than the rest, though Harry could smell a tint of alcohol on her as well. She was the first to step forward, giving a small smile. 

"Harry, right?" she said, the ends of her short blonde hair dusting her collarbones, "(Y/N)'s been so excited to see you tonight." 

"As I've learned," he laughed, offering a hand out for her to shake, "And you are?" 

"Oh, I'm Charlotte! It's nice to meet you!" 

At that, the surrounding group made their own introductions with (Y/N) clinging to his side. He dedicated each name to memory, hoping that would help him pass the test that he was surely going through that night. Meeting her friends had been foiled before with the changes in weather keeping him stuck inside, or his insistence that (Y/N) live her life outside of him lest she feel trapped in the manor at his side. Tonight had been the first time everything had fallen into place: a girls' night with an open invitation after dinner. 

Shifting his arm around her shoulders, Harry pulled (Y/N) to his side as he guided her out of the way of those still dancing behind them. His features set pleasantly neutral, he looked towards Charlotte first. 

"(Y/N) told me your significant others might also be joining us tonight," he drawled, his version of asking of their whereabouts as he seemed to be the only boyfriend having shown up so far. 

"I'm not sure, actually," Charlotte mused, the evidence of her own drinking beginning to show. "I know my boyfriend will be here to pick me up later, but I haven't really heard anything about the other girls’. It might just be you, if that's okay." 

Feeling eyes on him, Harry glanced down at his side to see (Y/N) still gazing up at him with a dreamy smile on her lips. He hoped he didn't come off as rude when the sight distracted him as Charlotte spoke, taking a beat to reciprocate her look and keep her snug to his side. 

"I am okay with that. I hope 'm not intruding on your night then," Harry charmed, shooting his gaze around the room in search of a vacant booth or barstool, "Perhaps, I can find a free spot and let you all have fun without me interrupting." 

"No," (Y/N) piped up, "You have to stay with us now! I don't want you to go."

Her words are slightly slurred but her passion was clear enough. He didn't bother to look at what the rest of the women had to say, only worrying about  keeping the smile on his beloved face. "Okay, then I will stay, love. I will still try to find a table, though, so y'can sit with me for a little."

She was more than quelled by his answer, her body pliant against his own as if she were already ready for him to drag her wherever he wanted. 

"I don't know if anything is going to be open," Charlotte interjected, having heard his proposal over the music, "I've been hoping someone would move, but they've all been taken since we got here." 

"I'm sure I can make something work," Harry smiled, already spotting a booth he would prefer over the others, "We'll be right back." 

As soon as Harry stepped out of the small circle formed by their group with (Y/N) on his arm, it was closed up once more, though he could feel eyes pasted to his back watching where they went. Aware of her stumbling steps at his side, Harry took it slow as he escorted her towards a booth situated in the back corner, just out of view of the others. 

"I think people have—hic—they're already sitting there, H," (Y/N) murmured. 

"'S alright," he answered, tightening his hold on her hand, "I think they're about to leave." 

He didn't waste any time in reaching the group, a charming smile on his lips when he picked out the leader. An underdressed (in Harry's opinion) blonde man with a drink in hand seemed to be the center of attention, the first one to acknowledge Harry approaching. 

Before he could utter any kind of greeting, Harry took over the situation. "Hello," he smiled, "M'girlfriend and her friends would like to sit here, please." 

The man looked bewildered for a moment, unable to meet Harry's eyes. "Um—I'm sorry, but—" 

"No need to be sorry," Harry cut him off, voice taking on a quality he didn't utilize very often, but this was a special occasion, "You can find another space. Right?" 

As soon as the man met his eyes, Harry could tell the effects he wanted were taking place. It was all within the span of a heartbeat that this man took Harry's words as his own idea and nodded his head. 

"Yeah, we can find another spot," he relented, a faux cheer to his voice as he beckoned his friends to follow him out, "C'mon, guys, let's try the bar." 

There were a few questioning glances thrown to both the man as well as Harry, but no one questioned. Instead they only murmured amongst themselves as they followed their leader towards the bartop. As he led her into the now free vinyl seating, (Y/N) was one of the few that had a question in her eyes and pinch in her brows. 

"How did you do that?" she asked, her voice low under the music but still audible to Harry's ears, "Is that a vampire thing?" 

A breath of laughter fell from his lips at her words. "A little bit, yes. I don't like to do it often, but I want to make sure y'have somewhere to sit and relax while I get y'some water." 

"You're getting me water?" she questioned, thoroughly distracted at his new offer as if she didn't have a cup of half melted ice in her hand. 

"Mhm," he hummed, releasing her hand once she had tucked herself into the corner of the booth, "After I grab your friends, 'm getting y'some water before y'have any more fun." 

With the way she was looking at him, he would have figured he had proposed and offered diamonds and jewels to her, and not just a glass of water from the bar. This night was already going better than he'd thought. 

—————

"Did you guys know that Harry's a painter?! Like, he does huge murals and things all over the house! He's amazing." 

Only Charlotte seemed to catch (Y/N) words—the same declaration she had cheered about only ten minutes prior. She and Harry exchanged a small glance while the rest of the table treated this as new information. 

It'd been a long time since Harry had drank, and even longer since he'd been intoxicated to (Y/N)'s degree. Was short term memory something that was now lost when mixed with spirits, or was that just her? 

"Do you really?!" one of (Y/N)'s friends (Cecilia, maybe?) bubbled, her cup of ice water cradled in her hands as she leant over the table with wide eyes, "What kind of stuff do you paint?" 

"A little bit of everything," Harry answered, just as he had the last time a similar question was posed, "M'style has changed a lot over the last year or so. I can show you all some time if you'd like—'m sure (Y/N) would love to have you over to the manor." 

Even Charlotte perked up at this offer, looking to (Y/N) for confirmation. "That would be so much fun, (Y/N)! We could do that the next time we get together!" 

At that, Harry sat back while the chattering arose amongst the group. Under the table, his hand rested on (Y/N)'s thigh, the warmth of her skin anchoring him through the pumping music, strobing lights, and unfamiliar smells surrounding him. As much as he was aiming to leave a good first impression on her friends, he was still very much out of his element in the nightclub. He hoped (Y/N) would call for him to take her home sooner rather than later. 

As if she knew he had her on his mind, (Y/N) leant into his side, looking up at him with a toothy grin and affectionate eyes. The chattering was going strong on the other side of the table, the conversation sounding as if the women were making plans for their next outing together—one that would take place at the manor with bottles of wine and movies. 

"You'd really be alright with everyone coming over?" (Y/N) asked, moony eyes trained on his face. 

"Of course," he answered, a smile landing on his face on instinct, "It is your home too, petal. Y'can have your friends over as well—'s not jus' Mitch and Niall that are allowed over."

She curled into his side, her thigh under the table practically draped over his own. "Do you think Sarah would want to hang out with us?" 

The thought of Sarah playing around with a bunch of human girls was more amusing than he thought it would be. He wondered if that was how she and Mitch felt when they realized he was courting a human girl. 

"She might," he told her, keeping his amusement to himself, "I can ask for you." 

In an impossible feat, (Y/N) looked that much more in love with him at his offer. As much as he missed her regular scent without the sticky edge of alcohol, he did like just how tender she became—adoring his every and any move. 

"That would be so nice, H. Thank you," she told him earnestly, her hand coming to rest on his middle with his shirt in her grip, "You're the best ever, you know that?" 

"I have been told as much a few times." All by her, but that was a detail that he would leave out for the moment.

"Well," she pouted, "It's true. I'm so happy you came tonight. I think the girls really like you, too." 

"Yeah?" he smiled, hoping it was more than just her drunken tongue making the claim. 

"Mhm," she hummed, stretching to rest her head on his shoulder with a squeeze of her hand over his shoulder, "You're better than all of their boyfriends." 

At that, Harry couldn't help but to release the laugh building in his chest. While he understood the sentiment, that wasn't quite the impact he was going for. 

"You think so?" Harry questioned, unable to wipe his amusement from his voice. 

(Y/N) didn't seem to notice—or, most likely, care—responding with a definitive nod. "I know so." 

Another breathy laugh left his lips as he ducked his head, burying his nose in her hair. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Charlotte glancing their way; an adoring smile tugged at the corner of her mouth when she saw the way her friend clung to him. 

Taking in a lungful of (Y/N)'s scent, Harry decided that nightclubs weren't so bad. 

At least when (Y/N) was there.  

“Wait, (Y/N),” Cecilia babbled, a look of urgency on her face, “You said he cooks, right? You cook right?” 

Her attention was splashed over Harry then, forcing him to draw away from (Y/N)’s hair. Clearing his throat under the music, he nodded his head. “I do, yes.” 

A squeal fell from her lips with her companions being just as excited. “Would you make us food when we come over? (Y/N) says you’re so good!” 

Just as (Y/N) perked up at his side, turning her wide eyes on him, Harry stifled his own laugh. God, how he wished he had been a fly on the wall while she apparently spouted off all these facts about him—the ones reserved for her. 

“If you’d like.”

Just as he expected, more noise erupted from the table.

—————

thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please send in any fun ideas or requests you have!!

[saltnsugarbear]

the ones I picked out for you in Tokyo (18+)

summary: Carmy wants to be pretty for you!

title from: "Guess" by Charlixcx featuring Billie Eilish

word count: 3.1k

content warnings: smut MDNI!!!! Boys in panties, afab reader genitalia, sub!carmy I suppose technically, probably maybe ooc carmy but I don't care oh well, palming, not quite oral but close (m!receiving), dry humping?, reader is called baby several times, smallest pinch of praise kink, I think I got everything?

side note: dedicated to my beloved @carmenberzattosgf !! approximately three to four months ago this was the first idea I'd pitched to her, and now I am here! kisses for my dear <3 ily darling olive!

Carmy had already approached you about the idea. Not very smoothly, you'd add. And it's not that he approached you, you had to sit him down in order to get an answer.

You already had some sort of inkling to the idea. The way he would eye the underwear section of a store or your underwear in the drawer or laundry.

At first you thought he just had a particularly active imagination and specific preference for what he wanted to see you in.

And sure, he loved seeing you in a soft lace pair, little bows on the side. It drove him crazy.

Carmy just didn't have the same yearning look in his eyes when he saw you in them.

You actually brought this up to him a handful of months into your relationship. He very quickly assured you that wasn't the case, and further proved how much he loved them. By spending hours between your legs.

When Carmy would look at the lacey underwear on a display he had this look of wistfulness instead of imagined hunger. He made certain faces at a texture he didn't like and shook his head as if he had been considering them.

More recently you had addressed it during lunch on one of his days off.

The two of you were sitting together at the table when you decided to brace yourself for the conversation.

You had gotten up, taking the dishes from your lunch with you to the sink.

When you came to sit back down, you took his hands in yours and rubbed your thumb over his knuckles, being mindful of his most recent knick.

Carmy looks at you, furrowing his brow a little and tilting his head, fighting a smile.

"Can I ask you something, bear?"

Carmy hums and nods as he studies your face. You can see some of the anxiety working its way into his features.

"It's not bad. It's not bad." You start to reassure him. "Just um... Just something I wanted to ask about... And you don't have to.. feel obligated into answering.."

You worry your lip between your teeth. Carmy taps his own thumb against your knuckles and you swallow your own nerves.

"Would you..." You take a deep breath in. "Do you want to wear panties?"

You study Carmy's face as you finish your question. His face goes through several different emotions, you can see the anxiety in his eyes.

"I'm not trying to corner you, or make you upset. I've... I've just noticed that there's a different look in your eyes when you see them on a display, which you assured didn't have to do with me, so this seemed like the only other option?" You bite the inside of your cheek and can see understanding dawn on Carmy.

"So I figured, if we had a talk about it, and if you agreed, I could take some of your measurements and get you a few pairs... If that's what you wanted. But I don't want you to think-"

"Yes." Carmy says it so assuredly that you're almost shocked. You watch as he swallows down any reservations he might have had before and nods.

"I um.. Yeah, I- I would.." Carmy inhales deeply and nods, for extra affirmation.

You smile at him and nod, "Okay.. Okay, I can get that down."

Carmy nods and looks at your conjoined hands.

"This... This doesn't change anything, by the way." You tilt your head to try and catch his eye. Carmy looks up at you, and you nod at him. "There's nothing wrong with this."

Before he can argue, and to solidify it, you give him a short kiss on the lips. You quickly move to place kisses on his nose and cheeks and around his eyes.

Once you start placing kisses on his eyelids Carmy starts giggling under you.

You smile at him and bring your hands to hold his face.

"I love you so much, Carm." You study his eyes. "So, so much."

"Love you too, baby.. So much." Carmy moves to kiss you sweetly. Slowly he pulls you onto his lap, causing the kiss to become a little sloppier. He moves his hand too quickly, not accounting for the table and you can hear when he hits it.

"Fuck-" Carmy pulls away to look at his hand. "Son of a bitch.."

"Aw, poor baby." You look down at his hand and then back up at him. "Want me to kiss it better?"

You let a little bit of amusement slip into your voice.

"As if.." Carmy mutters as you giggle a little. He gives you a glare that has no heat to it as you smile at him.

"Come 'ere.." He cups your jaw, swallowing your giggles in a kiss.

You cannot wait to get him dressed up.

You suprise him with his first pair a week and a half later. Using the measurements you had taken of him you found one you thought would fit him nicely as well as a color that would compliment his features.

You got it packaged in a slim black box, wrapped with tissue paper on the inside of it. A simple, sleek silk black bow tied it together.

You left the box on your bed, with a card that had his name written on it. Carmy wasn't expected to be back until late in the afternoon a you had some errands you needed to run for the house. Ideally it would be timed for you to arrive home after Carmy did, in time for him to take in the context of the box.

When you did arrive home, you found Carmy sitting on the bed, box in his hands. You discarded your wallet and keys on your dresser as you made your way over to him and stood between Carmy's legs.

Carmy looks up at you, letting the box rest against your legs.

"Have you opened it yet?" You asked as you brought your hand to his head and carded your fingers through is hair.

"Uh... Yeah." Carmy whispers as he leans into your touch, face a little flushed.

"What do you think?" You tilt your head to the side when he drops his gaze down to the box. Carmy moves his hands to the backs of your thighs and pulls you closer to him. When he looks back up, he's able to rest his chin against your stomach.

"I like 'em." He says softly, averting his eyes as you watch the blush work it's way to the tips of his ears.

You smile down at him and move your hand so you can rub your thumb along his cheekbone.

"Do you wanna try them on?" You whisper, offering him an out in case this isn't something he wants.

Though you're pretty sure it is.

Carmy nods as he leans into your touch. You smile down at him and kiss him, soft and sweet. When you pull away he trails after you, you tug gently at his roots to keep him in place.

"Go put them on, baby." You give him a quick kiss on the cheek before you pull away from him.

Carmy watches you for a moment as you head over to your dresser, unbottoning your shirt and putting on an old t-shirt.

Once you start to remove your jeans, Carmy gets up and crosses to the ensuite, closing the door behind him.

When you're done, only in your t-shirt and own underwear, you sit down in the same spot Carmy had been in. You can hear him shuffling around in the bathroom. There's a muttered, "Fuck.." before you hear the lock click and watch the door start to open.

The view that greets you is greater than you could have ever imagined, and you had imagined it a lot.

You drag your gaze across Carmy's body. He's stood in the door frame to the bathroom, awkwardly fidgeting with the waistband of his underwear.

His panties, to be more specific. The ones that match his eyes perfectly and look beautiful against his skin.

It's mouth watering, the view of a little bow right above where he's managed to cover his half hard cock with thin blue lace.

"This is weird.... I- I don't know why-" Carmy starts, every obviously anxious under your gaze.

You're quick to stop him though, bolting up from the bed and holding your hands out as you walk towards him. Carmy puts his hands out for you to grab and you hold them gently before you move them behind his back.

"You look so pretty, bear." You tell him, and start pressing kisses along his jaw, moving down to his neck.

"Re-" Carmy clears his throat and you can feel the vibrations on your lips. "Really..?"

"Mhmm.." You hum as you slowly begin to trail the kisses down his shoulders.

When you reach his chest you make sure to pay extra attention so his pecs, pressing kisses and suckling on his nipples briefly until he groans above you. You make sure to leave bites and kisses along his abdomen as you move down to his waistband and rest on your knees.

You make sure to pay extra attention to the skin around his waistband; along his hips, stomach, and thighs. Leaving little kisses and bite marks that will bruise in the morning. Paying special attention to the vein along his right hip, you hear him moan quietly above you. You duck down to start leaving kisses and bites along the plains of his thigh.

"Fu- Fuck.." Carmy inhales above you when you leave a particularly harsh bite along his inner thigh. Quickly, you place a soothing kiss over it before moving to his other thigh and repeating the same action.

When you're done, you lean back and take in his face looking down at you. Carmy has moved his hands to hold on the doorframe, using it to keep himself upright.

Carmy's eyes are half-lidded and his mouth is out as he breaths heavily above you. The view is pure sin, from the look on his face to heaving of his kiss bitten chest to his happy trail leading you to the baby blue bow of his panties.

You bring your hand to his hip, sliding your thumb under his waistband to rub over the soft skin there. Carmy shudders as you start to place feather light kisses around his happy trail. When you look up, you can see his stomach flexing as he keeps himself from rutting against your face.

You smile up at him, knowing you have that glimmer in your eyes that drives Carmy insane. Before he can process the look properly, you drag your tongue from where the head of his cock presses against lace to the base of him. This time Carmy can't help himself as he bucks up into your mouth before you quickly remove yourself.

The whine Carmy lets out has you adjusting yourself to apply some sort of pressure to your core. This man is going to be the death of you.

From where your thumb sits under his waistband, you pull it taut before letting it go, letting it snap against Carmy's hip. The way Carmy inhales is delightful and you can't help but grin up at him.

"Go lay down for me, pretty boy.." You pat his thigh softly and move out of the way for Carmy to walk past you.

Carmy is awkward in his movements, you can see the slight embarrassment in them still. The view of his ass in the panties is almost as good as the one from his front. The lace fabric barely covers all of him and you can see where it digs slightly into the flesh.

When he sits down is when you stand back up. You watch as Carmy lays back, bringing his hands to fidget with the little bow when he looks at you.

You can hear him breathe in and shudder when you sit on his right side. As you brace yourself on your hand, you don't think you've ever seen Carmy this malleable. It was very rare when Carmy let himself give up control like this, but you were patient in waiting for him to get to this point in your relationship.

The color of Carmy's eyes no longer match the color of his panties, but you can hardly seen them with how diluted his pupils are. Carmy leans into your touch when you weave your right hand into his hair, bracing yourself on your forearm.

The noises Carmy makes as you trail your hand down his chest are nothing short of heavenly. By the time you tug at his waistband he's panting, you can feel the air on your lips whenever he exhales.

"You're so worked up and all I've done is kiss you..." You tease him with a tug at his roots. Carmy's face is flushed and its making it's way down his neck and shoulders.

You take in the way his eyes roll back into his head when you begin to palm over his erection. The strangled groan he lets out is sinful and has you shifting your hips slightly.

Carmy brings you into a sloppy kiss, letting you quickly take control of it. He whines softly when you nip at his lower lip and gently suck along the spot to make up for it.

You pull back from the kiss, taking in Carmy's expressions. When you tug gently at his hair, the whine he let's out is hungry.

Carmy breathes heavily against your lips as you grind your palm over his bulge. When you grip him through his panties, you watch as he bucks his hips into the friction.

When you start to mimic jerking him off through his panties, the moans he lets out are positively filthy. It's endearing the way Carmy tries to keep kissing you between the moans he's releasing.

"Please.. Fu-Fuck, please baby.." Carmy doesn't even know what he's begging for at this point.

"You're so pretty like this Carm..." You whisper, massaging lightly at his scalp. The praise mixed with the actions of both your hands makes Carmy whimper next to you, his eyes shut as he leans up in an attempt to kiss you again.

Your heart feels like its going to burst as you take in the sight. Carmy giving himself to you completely, letting himself be in such a vulnerable situation makes you want to smother him with kisses.

Which you start to do. You start placing little kisses along Carmy's jaw, making sure to only leave a bruising kiss in the juncture under his ear. Carmy sounds breathy is damn near whining above you as you move to start leaving sharp kisses along his neck.

"Holy shii-" Carmy gasps when you accidently scratch over his bulge with your nails, the friction of lace dragging against his skin almost overwhelming. You look up at his face, his head pushed back into the mattress

"Holy fucking shit... Holy sh-" Carmy cuts himself off when you drag your nails along the head of his cock through the lace. He's all but gasping for air as you watch him lose his mind over the friction. You can tell he's close to his end with the way his hips stutter against your hand.

"Aw, bear, you're gonna make a mess of your pretty panties.." You pout at Carmy and watch his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallows. You drag some of the lace over his slit and watch as he keens, hips bucking up into the friction.

"Please, please, please baby, please.." At this point Carmy is just babbling. You can tell he's moments from his climax in the way he's begging and writhing. One of his hands is holding your wrist in place and he ruts into your palm, simply using your hand as a means for his release.

The sight is beautiful. Your boyfriend using your hand to get himself off, the only thing on his mind is to chase his own orgasm at any means.

The groan Carmy lets out is loud and borderline pornographic when you feel his cum shoot into the lace fabric. Begrudgingly, you tear your gaze from Carmy's face to take in the sight of him releasing his load into the baby blue panties, now becoming a deep cerulean.

As you help Carmy ride out his high, you watch silently as Carmy comes undone. His mouth is agape, some of his curls sticking to his sweaty forehead. Once it seems like he's pushing his hips farther into the mattress from overstimulation, you remove your hand and wipe any excess release onto your t-shirt.

Carmy lays still on the mattress afterwards, his pupils blown and lips puffy. Slowly he reaches for you, and you can see his thought process on his face.

It makes you chuckle, after having a mind numbing orgasm, all he can think about is your pleasure. Having his mouth on you, letting you know how much he loves you and appreciates you. Worshipping you, his altar between your thighs.

You grab his wrists, bringing them to rest against his chest.

"So.." You take in Carmy's appearance, he looks thoroughly fucked out. "What do you think?"

All Carmy can do is nod at you vehemently. He breaks your hold on him and gently grabs at your waist. You let him maneuver one of your legs over his hips. He lets out a little moan once you're straddling his hips, sitting right above the waistband of his panties.

"Need your words, bear.." You tap his cheek softly as he stares up at you, with what could only be named as love and adoration in his eyes.

"S good. So, so good, baby.." Carmy's words are a little slurred. "Made me feel.... fuckin' incredible.."

Carmy sits up, causing you to slide back on his half-hard erection. You inhale and chuckle at his enthusiasm.

"Could make you feel even better though.." Carmy whispers against your lips, his eyes half-lidded. You can't fight the grin that makes its way onto your lips.

"You really think so?" You challenge him.

"Know so..." He responds before bringing you into a kiss that has you groaning into his mouth.

With the way Carmy is kissing you, you already know it's going to be a long night.

[punkshort]

I was thinking about Swept Away (like always) and an idea came to my mind... What if... IF... Joel was like, watching 🌽 and reader wanted to ask him something and just open the door.

Alright let's talk about it. Smut (18+ MDNI) ahead!

You were supposed to be at the spa for the afternoon. Before you left, you even told him you wouldn't be back until closer to dinner. That was fine with him. He could get some work done in quiet. But when you had breezed through the living room, accidentally dropping your bag on the floor, you leaned over to pick up your things. He was fairly certain you didn't do it on purpose, but when you bent over he caught a glimpse of your underwear. Lacy. Lavender colored. Barely any coverage.

He recognized them. La Perla. His assistant spent thousands there before your trip, picking out bags and bags of lingerie for you.

Did it need to be La Perla? No. Of course not. He didn't even think he would ever see them on you. But he wanted to give you all the finest things, and if it made you feel good, then it was money well spent.

Were you wearing the matching bra? He remembered it. It was see through lace with some decorative trim. What color were your nipples? He would be able to tell through that bra, no question.

You straightened up and he averted his eyes, swallowing thickly as he stared blankly at his laptop.

"Can I get you anything while I'm out?"

He glanced back up at you right as you were fixing the strap on your dress that had fallen off your shoulder, revealing a quick flash of your bra strap. Fuck, you were wearing it.

He shook his head, unable to answer, and you disappeared out the door.

He wrestled with a hard on for the next fucking hour. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop thinking of you in that lingerie, what you would look like all sprawled out on his bed while he sucked at your nipples through the thin, delicate fabric.

Work was slow. Fuck it.

He clicked out of his email program and slammed the computer shut before storming off to his bedroom, adjusting himself through his shorts as he moved.

Turning the television on, he scrolled through the channels until he found Playboy TV, Hustlers, Penthouse.

He leaned back in bed and picked one, just looking to let off some steam and not expecting after two minutes to see a girl who bore a striking resemblance to you pop up on the screen.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath while he watched the girl fall to her knees before some guy. She ran her hands up and down his thighs and looked up at him, making sure he was watching when she took him in her mouth.

She moaned around his cock and her eyelids futtered closed like it was the best thing she had ever tasted and he quickly tugged his shorts and boxers down, gripping his own cock in his fist.

Her breasts were fake, he could tell that a mile away, but she had similar facial features. Same length and color hair, same color eyes, same beautifully shaped lips. Skin that looked so soft, skin that he yearned to touch and lick and pinch and bite. He stroked his dick, imagining you on your knees for him with your perfect lips wrapped around him, gazing up at him like you were fucking thankful for it.

There was a cut scene then the girl in the video was bent over a couch. She gasped sharply, which turned into a deep moan when the man in the video slowly entered her from behind. Joel could see the enjoyment on her face. The pure bliss at the feeling of being stretched open and filled. Fuck, he wanted to do that to you. He wanted to see what your face would look like when he first stuffed you full of him. He wanted to hear the noises you would make when he began to fuck you, when he sucked on your tits and when he smacked your ass. He wanted to see what you would look like when you came. The sounds you would make. He wanted to hear his name from your lips when he made you come. Would you scream it? Or would you whisper it in his ear?

Shit, he was close. He was too wound up. He spent too much time being fucking hard, wishing it would go away, and now his pleasure would come to a very quick end.

He groaned loudly into the room when he felt that heat build at the base of his spine. His stomach tightened and he groaned again, his eyes squeezing shut while he pretended the noises coming from the television were actually coming from you.

And then it all happened at the same time.

He couldn't hear anything. He was too far gone, his excitement too unmanageable. He only opened his eyes right when he came, when he shot thick, white ropes of his seed all over his hand, but at the same time, at the exact same fucking time, he saw movement by his door.

He had imagined you were saying his name, but it turned out, you really were. Just not in the same way he had pictured.

His door slammed shut while his cock was still dribbling the lasts bits of spend from the tip, his hips pathetically rocking upwards from the mattress to fuck his hand.

"Oh, shit," he gasped, in both pleasure and pain. How much did you see? This was bad. This was worse than you walking in on him changing, but the damage was already done, so he took his time. He turned off the television and cleaned himself up slowly while his mind cleared and the seriousness of what just happened began to settle in.

He gripped the bathroom sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror, his chest still heaving ever so slightly from his climax. He needed to get you out of his fucking head before he did something really stupid. Something he couldn't take back. Something that couldn't be explained away.

The way he saw it, he had two choices: he could leave there and pretend like it never happened, like it was no big deal, and wave away your apologies.

Or.

Or he could tell you the truth. He could use it as an opportunity to come clean. To be honest. To tell you he wanted you so fucking bad that it hurt. That he tried to deny himself, he tried to be a gentleman, but it was impossible. Your allure was too much. It drew him in and fucked with his head, twisted him up and made him feel all crazy and out of control.

He knew what he had to do. He took a deep breath and stepped out of his room, his eyes landing on your bedroom door, and raised his hand to knock.

[denpa-dere]

hello and welcome to my house arrest series. this is going to be super self-indulgent and a little different than my last couple of fics. updates linked below.

___

afab!mc x polyship

description: NSFW (though the intro is just suggestive), you are confined to your room for your own protection. But how long will that last when the only thing standing between you and your housemates is a door and some willpower?

warnings: straight up breeding kink fodder. she/her pronouns and afab!mc descriptions. a little humiliation if you squint.

|| Intro || Mammon || Asmo (mini) || Levi || Satan (mini) || Beel || Lucifer (mini) || Asmo || Belphie (mini) || Belphie || Barbatos (mini) || Satan || Diavolo (mini) ||

___

So, about that morning...

You opened and closed your mouth once, then twice. You swallowed thickly.

“What..?” The question trailed off into the ether.

Across from you sat Lucifer, brow furrowed and eyes screwed shut, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, looking very much like he’d rather sink into the floor than continue this conversation.

“I’m aware how uncomfortable this situation may be,” He said, feeling a migraine brewing behind his eyes, “But your cooperation is necessary. We can’t risk any unknown quantities around you, right now.”

Unknown quantities. How tactful. You laughed despite yourself. Lucifer’s head shot up in response, face a mix of equal parts frustration and concern.

“It’s for your own protection,” He said, sympathetic but no less firm.

To your credit, your compliance was never really in question. Lucifer was certain you very well understood the dangers of being around others in your current state. Though he would never admit such a thing, this lecture was almost as much for himself as it was for you.

Your face was flushed, eyes wide, expression inscrutable. You stared into your lap at your upturned hands, closing and unclosing them.

“Can I… Can I at least go about the house like normal?” You asked.

Good question, Lucifer thought, hoping you hadn’t caught the briefest flash of a frown cross his features.

On one hand, confining you to your room would definitely lower morale; not just with you, but sending a ripple effect throughout the household. Besides, what sort of message would that send to you about your safety in their company? 

On the other hand, breakfast had nearly turned into an all-out war.

Lucifer stood and sighed, moving to make his exit, “Just… try to keep your wandering to a minimum. Please.”

You nodded eagerly, thankful for the leniency. Then, you were alone.

You smell different. Something in the way Beel had looked at you made you suddenly acutely aware of how small you were.

The memory sent a cold rush through you. You grabbed a pillow, holding it against yourself for comfort. Even though you hadn’t done anything wrong, you felt exposed. Could you even bring yourself to face them after this morning? 

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand beside you. Your finger hesitated over the screen.

The memory of Asmo’s laughter echoed in your skull, “Oh, you poor thing!”

You felt your stomach drop. Today felt like an exercise in humiliation.

The brawl in the dining room replayed in your mind.

You tapped the message notification.

Satan: I’ll take notes for the classes you miss.

Oh, well, that wasn’t so bad, actually. You tapped out a quick “Thank you!” in reply, feeling a little silly for getting yourself so worked up. These were your friends.

How was anyone supposed to know that going off your birth control would change your scent so dramatically? Sure, demons had heightened senses, but something so minor as a hormonal shift? That you were ovulating?

You fell back on your bed and covered your face with your hands. It was a small comfort when you felt like you couldn’t hide.

You could all be mature about this, right?

[bg-brainrot]

Would You Still Love Me? (Astarion x Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: When you ask the question, 'would you still love me if I were a worm?' Astarion's response surprises you in more ways than one.

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, silly goofy mood, act 3 unascended Astarion

Word count: ~1.7k

--

You’re chatting with Astarion over dinner at the Elfsong when a question strikes you. It’s an odd one, and you’re not sure if you should ask it. Your curiosity builds as you consider Astarion’s possible answers though and, by the next lull in conversation, you can’t help yourself.

“Astarion?” you ask, spearing a potato on your plate.

The vampire swirls his wine glass, watching the red liquid fall into place before answering, “Yes, dear?” 

“Would you still love me if I were a worm?” The question spills out of you, sounding even sillier than it did in your head.

Your lover blinks at you, as if he couldn’t possibly have heard that properly. But when your expression doesn’t change, your eye contact doesn’t drop, no admission of jest is to be seen, he finally says, “Darling, what kind of ludicrous question is that?”

“Well, would you?” you counter, pointing at him with your fork before popping the potato in your mouth.

His face grows pensive as he thinks. It’s a few seconds later before he asks a follow up question, “What type of worm?”

You finish chewing as you think of the worms you know. Not many admittedly– life in the city meant that free patches of earth are few and far between. So you answer the only worm that truly comes to mind, “The earthworm kind.”

“And I would know that it’s you?” he asks, leaning forward now. It seems like he’s invested in the question now, despite his initial reaction.

You nod, as if that’s a given. “Yes, you saw me transform.”

“Hells, I was hoping I could pretend not to know,” he says with a smirk. 

“Wicked man,” you retort, shooting him a responding smile.

Astarion’s face looks thoughtful again as he considers the developing situation. “Could I turn you back?”

Now you shake your head vehemently. What use was the exercise if magic would fix you? “No, nothing could turn me back. I’m simply a worm from now on.”

“Hmm, and are you certain that you would love me?” He raises an eyebrow at you in challenge, as if he’s cornered you in your own mischievous little game.

“Of course,” you answer immediately. “I don’t think my little worm brain would be able to think of much else.”

“How sweet… I think,” he says, cocking his head. You suppose it is, though you had meant it as fact. “Well then, one final question, if you would?”

You nod, gesturing for him to continue with your fork. “Go ahead, I’m an open book. Or worm, in this case.”

“How long do worms live?”

You blink, having not expected such a question from him– and truthfully also due to not knowing the answer. “I don’t know. Maybe Halsin would?”

Astarion locates the druid, sitting a few tables away talking to Wyll and Karlach. He raises his voice to be overheard in the din of the tavern. “Halsin, be a dear, how long do earthworms live?”

“A fantastic question, Astarion!” The druid’s voice carries easily with excitement. “It truly depends on the conditions of the worm, but anywhere from a few years up to eight years.”

You balk at that fact. A worm can live how long?

“I’m happy to tell you all about ideal soil conditions–”

Astarion cuts the man off with a loud, “Thank you!” Then he turns back to you. “Well, there you have it.”

“Have what?” you ask in response, confused at the turn in conversation.

“You would live at most eight years. I’m immortal, my love. I think I can manage less than a decade of loving a worm,” he says, rolling his eyes at you.

You’re not sure how to take the casual way that he speaks of your impending wormy death, but you find it oddly comforting to know that he would in fact still love you. You honestly hadn't expected that. “So you’d keep me around? Made sure I stayed healthy and safe?”

He nods, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Naturally.”

You can’t help but laugh at the idea of him keeping you as a pet worm. It seems almost unbelievable. “You wouldn’t throw me into the nearest patch of dirt? Or worse yet, let a bird take me?”

“Gods below, dear,” Astarion responds, aghast, putting a hand over his heart as if he’s been truly, deeply offended. “I would never.” Then he gets a far off look in his eyes and adds, “Well, maybe never. I suppose it depends on if I needed you as bait. But I’m certain I would be able to rescue you after the fact.”

“I would allow it,” you say, with a short nod. “If you’re using me as bait, it’s likely for good reason.”

"And after you pass? I would miss you terribly of course," he says solemnly, with his most maudlin, tragic expression.

"You'd better. And I expect the best soil for my burial," you say, pointing your fork at him threateningly.

“Of course, darling,” he says, only the hint of his smile visible from behind his wine glass. He takes a sip and looks at you again. “Now, why would you ask such a thing?”

You shrug, entirely convinced it was just a passing thought. But, as you poke and prod at your food, you find yourself answering, “I don’t know. What if, before this all ends, something happens to me. I already come with my own scars and problems, gods know how much worse it can get.”

Astarion stares at you over his wine glass, processing what you've just said before responding, "My love, believe it or not, I'm a vampire. I have 'scars and problems' of my own. If you think that anything could happen to you that I wouldn't be able to handle, you'd be sorely mistaken."

You hadn't expected him to say such words so sincerely, and you find yourself a bit taken aback. You love each other, you'd said as much on the night Astarion had been freed from Cazador, but it still feels a bit intimidating to know how deep that love could run. Apparently earthworm deep.

The idea that this man, who would rather bathe in blood than touch an inch of dirt, would continue to love you? Well, despite the inane premise, you find the warmth in your heart to feel very real.

"What about you, darling?" he asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. "If I were to become a worm, what would you do?"

You answer quickly, "Easy. I would still love you, probably keep you on my person, and offer you blood or other sustenance when you need it."

Astarion looks at you aghast. "Sweet hells, do not put me in your pocket."

"And why not? I would be extremely careful, and then I would never lose you," you respond, explaining yourself logically. "Besides, even as a worm, who knows what kind of trouble you'd get yourself into."

"I should be saying that to you," he says, placing his wine glass on the table, serious now. "I can't believe you would put me in danger like that. I fully expect you to place me somewhere nice, like the lawn of some pampered Upper City noble."

You think about his proposition for a second before shaking your head. "But then I couldn't take care of you. What if you get stepped on?"

Astarion considers your counterargument with narrowed eyes. “Ugh, fine. I shall stay in your pocket. But I expect you to clean it regularly. And I demand that you get a new lining for it. Silk, preferably.”

“Easy enough to do,” you say, nodding along. “You would be most comfortable worm this side of the Chionthar.”

At that, the man looks pleased, picks his wine glass back up, and reclines back in his seat. “Good. And, for what it’s worth, I'm sure you would make a very cute worm.”

You’re not sure if that’s meant to be a compliment or an insult, but you suspect it’s the former. “Thank you,” you say, smiling at your lover. “You would make a dashing worm yourself.”

“Are you both expecting to turn into worms any time soon?” you hear from behind you. You turn around to see Halsin standing tall over you. His tone is friendly, warm as he continues, “I would be happy to take care of either of you.”

You can’t help the blush of embarrassment that comes over your face. You’re also not sure how to take the words. Is he asking to adopt you both, as worms? Gods, how did you end up here… So you look back to Astarion who is now shooting you a look that says, Now look what you’ve done.

“Err, no Halsin. It was just an odd little conversation we were having. Sorry to cause you any confusion.”

“No need to apologize, my friend,” he replies. “Though if you ever do need help, you know where to find me.” He gives you both an affectionate smile before heading off. 

While it’s nice to know that others would care enough to take care of you as a worm, you’d meant the question to be solely for Astarion. You’re left burying your face in your hands to hide your shame.

“So, darling… what did we learn?”

“To never ask Halsin about earthworms,” you mumble through your fingers.

Astarion gives you a ‘tsk’ before responding. “No, my dear. If either of us turns into a worm, we must hide that fact from Halsin." He scrunches his nose in distaste before continuing, "I refuse to live in whatever healthy soil he’s found for us.”

You snort at Astarion’s conclusion, but still find yourself agreeing. “Fair enough. Better yet, let’s try to keep ourselves at the very least bipedal.” The two of you share a laugh, but in the back of your mind you’re already thinking of your next question. I wonder if he would still love me if I were a mimic? I suppose there’s only one way to find out.

[beenbaanbuun]

fever w/ kang yeosang

words - an amount 🙂‍↕️

genre - hurt/comfort, sickfic

warnings - food avoidance because of illness, mentions of vomiting, reader is a little bratty but it’s the fever talking, yeosang is tired :((, not proof read

——————————————————————————

“you need to eat something, baby,” yeosang grumbles, arm folded crossly over his half-exposed pecs. you can’t help but focus on the way he’s standing there in nothing but a tank top and some shorts while you’re sat shivering in one of the many hoodies that you’ve stolen from his closet. you’ve been blaming the fever for how cold you seem to be at the minute, but you’ve always ran a little colder than your boyfriend. whenever he needs a sweater, you need a sweater, a coat and a scarf. you’re just a little nesh, you suppose.

your eyes flicker around the kitchen, studying everything that crosses your vision. perhaps you could have some toast, you think as your eyes land on the half-finished loaf of bread on the counter. then you think about how heavy your stomach feels, even when it’s empty, and you realise that perhaps toast isn’t the best option. you turn your nose up and move on to the bowl of fruit that yeosang had just refilled this morning. the scent of the bananas alone is enough to make you feel sick, and perhaps the citrus fruits aren’t the best choice when you’ve been struggling to keep food down.

“i’m only going to throw it up again,” you argue, trying your hardest to make your expression pathetic and sad. you commit to it, bringing out the sad arched brows and the big wet eyes. your bottom lip juts out just a little and for extra effect, you can’t help but wobble it a little. for a moment of two, you’re almost sure it’ll work. yeosang’s eyes soften and his arms go limp and fall back to his sides. you’re almost positive that he’ll let you off with another day of medicine and water, you can practically feel it on your tongue—

“you don’t know until you try.”

your shoulders sink upon hearing your words and your features drop, expressing only apathy and defeat. sure, the puppy dog eyes have never worked on him before, but there’s a first time for everything. you were certain that this would be that time.

“yeosang!” you whine, trying to grab his attention as he turns to face the countertop. he whines your name back in exactly the same nasally tone you used. “please! my throat already hurts from all the acid; i just want one day where i don’t throw up. it’ll make me feel less miserable.”

he ignores you, lifting his phone from the counter and typing a few words into safari. you wish you could see i what it says, but from your position, huddled up on a dining chair—which you would only move from if a hefty bribe was offered your way—you can’t even dream of looking around his oversized torso.

damn him for getting buff.

“google says banana’s are goo—”

“no,” you cut him off, head shaking wildly like a petulant child.

“baby~”

“they smell bad!”

with a sigh, yeosang goes back to looking.

“dry brown rice?” he offers meekly, already foreseeing the outcome of his offer. he doesn’t even have to turn around to see your face screwed up in displeasure; it’s already so clear in his mind. “nevermind, it was a stupid suggestion.”

you hum in agreement, the small sound making him crack a small smile. despite being incredibly difficult, yeosang can admit that you do have your sweet moments while you’re feverish. your mind may be muddled and your body doing everything in its power to make your life a living hell, but you still somehow manage to put a smile on his face.

if he wasn’t desperate to not catch whatever 18th century plague has taken up residence in your body, he’d spin around and kiss you. squish your cheeks together like he always does when he wants to annoy you a little, bring your face up to his, and just kiss you. it’s almost impossible not to when he’s been missing out on the feeling of your lips on his for the past few days, but when he hears the sound of your stomach churning and a pained groan leave your lips, he remembers exactly why he’s doing this to himself.

“how about broth?” he suggests, putting his mind back on the task at hand, “you like broth, baby.”

he’s right, you do like broth. or at least you like it when you’re not feeling like satan himself has put his little tapdancing shoes on specifically to do a jig atop your stomach. instinctively you wrap an arm around your abdomen which after a short period of docility, has began to cramp again. that broth really doesn’t sound appealing right now…

“yeosang…” you say, dejected and miserable. he sighs, understanding exactly what you mean by saying his name in that tone of voice; it’s a disheartened no from you.

and while it pains him to be forceful with you—or anyone for that matter—he can’t just sit and watch you waste away over a poorly stomach. he has to put his foot down for once.

“baby, you need to eat,” he sighs and rubs a hand over his face. he hates being so bossy with you, almost as much as he hears the weary sound pass from your lips just after his soft command. “just a small bowl, okay? just for me; your yeosang?”

and while it’s an obvious guilt trip, a little bribe to make you feel a little bad about refusing to eat, you can’t help but fall for it. you sigh, wrapping your arms around your knees so you can pick at your fingers guiltily. it’s not like you can help being sick, but maybe you have been a little dramatic about the whole refusing to eat thing. sure, your stomach churns at even the thought of food, but yeosang is right; if you don’t try, you won’t know. the idea of throwing up again frightens you, but broth is a liquid; it’ll be easy to come back up.

you resign with a minuscule hum, so quiet it’s almost silent.

“fine,” yeosang hardly believes the word when you say it with so much resignation, “one small bowl of broth…”

[etheries1015]

Etheries hello! If you're open to requests right now, could you write something for twst where they find out (gender neutral but presumably afab) reader is pregnant with their child? I'd love to request for Azul, Vil, Malleus, and Rollo specifically but any others you think would be fun to write would be fun to read too. Thank you!!

YYYAAAA!!! I LOVE THIS CONCEPT Twst men with children make me so giddy inside hehehehe. Especially the non-humans for some reason, like Fae and Mer folk aosiefjlskadjf

You're pregnant!! Their reaction?

you know what, I decided to throw in how many daughters/sons I'd think they would have, too. For shits and giggles.

Featuring: Azul, Vil, Malleus, and of course I need to add my baby girl Lilia <3 I'm sorry, I really can't write Rollo, I sat here for an hour trying to think of something, but I suppose he is where my creativity halts... my apologies. I hope you like this nonetheless!

General warnings: Afab reader, but no pronouns are used. I feel like there is obvious malleus favoritism because I think he's a huge simp that wants a bunch of babies LMFAOOO, there's so much to write on him. And Lilias is a little bit more on the angsty side of things...but overall fluffy! Not very proofread either <3

Azul

He is BEYOND anxious. More anxious than he had ever felt in his entire life. You? His lovely significant other, pregnant, with HIS child? His offspring?

Almost faints at the news. When you tell him the news, he just stares at you with wide eyes and jaw ajar.

He is happy, truly, but he's honestly a mess. Will this be a mostly human child? Will you be giving birth to an octo-egg? Will they need to be birthed in the water of the sea? So many uknown variables and questions swim in his mind, but his first plan of action is to hug you tightly and sob into your shoulder.

CONSTANT doctor checkups. He's asking you to go more often than they would recommend, but he can't help it. He needs to be 10000% certain that you are going to be okay and find out what form his child will be taking.

Imagine if it's twins, oh my gosh. He would actually faint.

his children will have a never-ending supply of love from Uncle Jade and Uncle Floyd

Weird presents, probably ingesting food from the sea by his recommendation, prenatal potions, and bed rest. If he read it, you were doing it. Your health was his number one priority.

Azul is probably leaning towards a traditional father, going to work and getting as much profit as possible to support you and his children. But of course, he will take a significant amount of time off to help you and any obstacles that come with having a mer-folks child.

On the sweeter side...

His hands will be trembling ever so slightly, with tears in his eyes every time he feels your stomach. He will kiss your stomach, and lay on your lap to be close by. He can't believe he has come so far in life- to the point where he has a beautiful significant other such as yourself and a child on the way.

He worries about many things, finances, being able to get the most out of life, if he will be able to provide for you and this child, and the kind of life his child will have.

Kind of hopes that his child is mostly human. He was bullied for his species, being slow, pudgy, and whatnot. That's not the life he wants for his children if they end up looking more like him.

You're able to calm his nerves, though. All in all, he is incredibly excited to meet his new baby, and will be doing so by his beloveds side <3

I personally see him having one child. Probably a boy, probably an easy baby. I don't think Azul would want more than one child.

Vil

the moment he saw that positive pregnancy test, he had a conflicting wave of emotions.

Of course his outward reaction was to hug you, stroke your head, and pepper your face in kisses. Of course, the news elated him, he seemed calm and collected enough, but there were many worries in his mind.

He doesn't want to accidentally "ruin" his child.

Vil was always in the face of cameras, the face of the public's wary eye, and was hyper-focused on his image and how others may perceive him.

He would hate to accidentally subject his child to the same watchful eye of the public and create this whole image that he needs to be perfect. He wants this child to grow up how they choose, with good values, instead of fearing what may come out of the public opinion.

always hiding you and shielding you from paparazzi. He wanted to hide the news that you were pregnant until later down the line. There are some crazy fans out there, and he would never risk something happening to you. Face masks and disguises were not unknown to you from dating him already at this point, but it was almost as if it came out tenfold.

Rook and Epel = sweetest most doting uncles ever!

Vil had to slap Rook on the head when he felt like Rook was getting a little too handsy with your baby bump.

Epel made sure you had the best batch of apples straight from the farm! Good for the baby, he says!

Vil loves playing music for you and his child, piano, singing...he loves it. it's great bonding for the both of you. He'd hum and sing songs to your stomach while rubbing it gently.

Finances will never pose a problem. Another thing that was never a problem, was Vil going out of his way to take off work and make sure he was there to properly take care of you. You never felt abandoned and alone despite his busy schedule and the fact he was always out doing some sort of movie shoot or commercial, he would never hesitate to take off or call in if you were having a particularly rough day.

Overall, he's excited! He hopes the baby grows up in their own skin and individuality, making choices for themselves when it comes to their career path. And a little side note...he really liked how cute you looked waddling around pregnant with a baby bump. Heuehue.

I can envision you and Vil possibly having two-three children, pretty even in age difference. Depends! I think he would like a big family, get a home with plenty of space. I can see him with both boys and girls, I think I see Vil being a really good "girl dad" tho.

Malleus

absolutely ecstatic. He wanted this so so so bad. He was over the moon. He held back an embarrassing display of giggling and fangirling over the fact he impregnated you, instead opted with a smile and a "Wonderful."

You sometimes wonder if he purposefully did something to result in your pregnancy because I like to think he's a little bit insane like that, but it's okay! You don't mind!

This man wants so. many. kids. Half-fae Half human children run around the castle bringing it to life and showing off the world the unity between humans and faes. He doesn't care if anyone else doesn't agree with this, he on the other hand is absolutely bemused by you and the fact you are bearing his children.

Will they come out as eggs needing to be hatched? How long will it take to hatch with your nonmagical side? Will they have mostly human attributes? Will his fae genetics be so dominant that it's like a bunch of little copies of him? Will his child have your ears and his eyes? and vise versa? will his child come out looking just like he did, in a full dragon form, or will his child come out like a normal human? He has asked ALL of these questions and more. He is so excited.

Buys a lot of clothes, builds rooms in the castle (yes, rooms. because he knows you will have more of his children and wants to be prepared.) "Can never have enough to be prepared for all outcomes," He says. Whatever floats his boat, I suppose!

Appoints the most skilled doctors there is in the Valley. You are always, without a doubt, taken care of. He reads piles upon piles of parenting books, he's always by your side, to the point where sometimes he brings you into important meetings just to be sure you were in his sights.

He vows his children will never feel the crushing lonliness he did as a child. He vouches to always be availble to have meals with his children, to play with his children, and be active in their learning process. He will allow them to travel all over and gain knowledge, and be certain they will never feel like they are missing out on anything.

He LOVES your baby bump. At night in bed he will press his ear up against your stomach, rub it, kiss it, talk to it. He is so infatuated with you and your body. Kisses every single stretch mark, and his hands are all over you. Seeing you pregnant with his child stirs up some sort of desire to keep you that way, but he tries to...push down this part of him. For the most part. Heuheu.

And when you two are sleeping, his dragon tail always comes out to wrap around you protectively. It's his way of making sure both of you are safe through the night because sevens forbid anything happens to his beloved and their child(ren).

Honestly, I am a firm believer that Malleus would have twins, for some reason. Two hatchlings! Together! A boy and a girl. (I have a whole fic idea for this...you'll probably see it one day. heuheu.) or two boys. I think it would be super chaotic with two twins with big draconic features and attitudes, alot of running around and mischief in the house!! He would of course go on to have more children with you. I think it may become an addiction for him. Or not! I can also see him being content with two.

Lilia

Honestly, when you first gave him the news, he was uncertain how to feel. He inquired if you were serious,him raising a child at his age? He wasn't certain he'd be able to do it. He raised Silver, and now that his magic reserves were dwindling, he was worried he wouldn't be able to fully be there for you and your baby.

"Lilia...i'm pregnant." Once those words left your lips, his normal silly demeanor dropped slightly. He had a thoughtful look upon his face, eyes wide staring at you. He asked if you were certain, and it was initially a long and deep discussion about your future together and how things will pan out.

After talking it out, a few tears and heartfelt moments, Lilia smiled brightly and gave you the biggest hug and kiss on the cheek. He started to become a little more excited! And once you shared the news with Silver, Malleus, and Sebek, they were more than happy to pitch in a helping hand.

Honestly, I think as he saw your baby bump grow, so did his excitement. He of course loved the children he adopted more than anything in the entire world, but something about looking at you holding your tummy full of his very own blood, it felt...different.

He was nervous, for sure. This was a child that was going to carry his lineage, his very own DNA coursing through that baby. He wasn't sure how things would turn out but prayed that this baby would have a life of peace and acceptance, unlike his war-filled days and alienation for being a lesser type of fae.

He was OBSESSED with how you looked pregnant. He could get used to this sight, you waddling around, swollen feet... for more in-depth details about how he felt about you being pregnant, you can take a read at this fic I wrote a while ago about it. All in all, he pampers you to death. Rubbing your feet, kissing your stomach, tracing your stretch marks with his fingers...oh he could truly get used to this.

He does fear what the future may hold. He wants all of his children to see him at his strongest, not to see him slowly give into old age as his magic fades to nothing. You may have to reassure him a few times throughout your pregnancy that you and this child will love him no matter what, and remind him that YOU are magicless as well. And Lilia would make an amazing father, with or without his "power." It's his personality and determination as an amazing, child-loving figure that will give this child a life to look forward to.

Once he gets over the insecurities about becoming a father to a new half-fae, half-human baby, he starts to dig up old parenting books he used to have.

He will give this baby, and you, as much love as he possibly can <3\

I can see Lilia with a girl! Probably just one baby, because he can only handle so much anymore! He would be an AMAZING girl dad. He would be a great father regardless of the gender of the baby, but I can really see him with a daughter for some reason. The visions are strong with this one.

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

A Song of Ice & Shadow

Part 1

A/N: Hello everyone! I’m planning to write an Azriel x Archeron!half-sister reader series, possibly featuring a slow-burn romance and angst. I don’t know how many parts it’s going to have. It begins in ACOMAF chapter 24.

Summary: The eldest Archeron half-sister Y/n hates Fae kind, due to tragic past events. When she unexpectedly visits her sisters, she is met with the very race she hates.

Word count: 2.11K

Being the eldest sibling is not always easy. Y/n knew this firsthand, shouldering the weight of responsibility for her younger sisters from a young age. After their mother’s death, she made the difficult decision to leave her sisters behind and stay with her supposed biological father. It wasn’t because she didn’t share the same father as her sisters; in fact, he loved her like she was his own and never discriminated between them. For the first two years after their mothers death, she stayed with her family, but when her “father” lost his fortune, she knew leaving was the only option. It wasn’t just about lightening their burden by having one less mouth to feed; she also hoped by seeking out her biological father, she could find work and send money back to her family.

Surprisingly, her father welcomed her with open arms, a kindness that caught her off guard considering he had shown little interest in her when she was younger. Despite her initial skepticism, she didn’t question his motives, fearing he might kick her out. With cleverness and father’s help, she managed to pursue higher education, while working to make ends meet. Though her earnings were modest, she’d send whatever she could spare to her family, ensuring they had enough to survive. With Feyre’s help, there was always food on the table.

Y/n’s life was devoid of fun. Between studying, working, sleeping and occasional visits to her family, she had little time for socializing and friends. This isolation was entirely her choice; she distanced herself from others, earning a reputation as being cold, heartless, selfish, and arrogant to those who didn’t know her well. Yet, beneath this exterior, she harbored a deep love for her sisters and would sacrifice anything for their well-being, despite no longer showing them affection after their mother’s death. They understood her silent expressions of care, recognizing that actions spoke louder than words.

One thing everyone knew for certain is that y/n was stubborn. She held fast to her beliefs and opinions, regardless of external influences. Among her sisters, Netsa was the most like her and the one who admired her the most. The two shared the closest bond before she left, but make no mistake, if anyone Nesta feared and obeyed, it was Y/n, knowing she was not one to be crossed.

After Feyre left the mortal realm, her family’s fortune turned, and she finished her education. Consequently, her visits became less frequent, as she immersed herself into her work.

A smile appeared on y/n’s face at the thought of her sisters’ reactions to seeing her after a long time. She decided to surprise them with a spontaneous visit. Unbeknownst to her, another surprise awaited her inside the place she called home.

“Nesta, Elain, I’m home!” y/n announced as she opened the front door of their home.

“Are we expecting someone else?” Rhys whispered to Feyre.

“Nesta, why didn’t you tell me y/n was coming?” Feyre questioned, panic all over her face.

“I didn’t know. She usually sends word before she comes” Nesta claimed.

The conversation between the two sisters earned them a curious, yet worried look from the three males. Nesta stood from chair, hurrying to the door, but she was too late, y/n was now standing in the dining room, the smile dropping from her face and replaced by a shocked expression at the sight before her.

“What is going on?” y/n asked carefully and slowly.

“These are Feyre’s friends. We were not expecting you today” Elain replied.

“Y/n, it’s been a while. I’m so happy to see you” Feyre stood from her seat and hugged her sister, who was reluctant at first but returned the hug.

“You brought Fae-kind into our home?” it was more of a rhetorical question, but Feyre answered anyway.

“Y/n, this is Cassian” she inclined her head to the male with long hair “Azriel” she pointed to the male who y/n could’ve sworn was the most handsome man she’s even laid eyes on “and Rhysand, high lord of the Night Court” Feyre finished introducing.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you” Rhys said with a warm smile.

“I’m sure” y/n sneered, returning her gaze on her sisters “you still haven’t told me what’s going on and why the very same race we despise are now in our living room, dining with us” y/n tried making sense of the situation.

Feyre explained the situation, why they were here, what they needed from the sisters and the threat posed by Hybern.

“So the moment you became fae, you chose to forsake us?” this was all y/n could utter.

“I’d never do that. Me being fae doesn’t change that. It never will. You’ll always be my sister” Feyre assured her.

“If you did, you wouldn’t have brought THEM here. Hatred aside, do you have any idea of the danger you just put Nesta and Elain in?” Y/n turned her hand into a fist, her knuckles as white as they could be, trying to keep her temper in check.

“There was nowhere else to go” Feyre claimed.

“And you were alright with this?” Y/n turned to face her other sisters.

“I wasn’t, but Elain agreed” Nesta informed her.

“Feyre’s right, there-“ Cassian spoke.

“Who are you again?” Y/n glared at him “I’m too tired to deal with this now” she rubbed her temples and said to no one in specific “call me when they’re gone”.

“Uhm, they’re-“ before Nesta could finish the sentence, y/n was already gone “-going to stay for a while” she sighed.

“I take it, this is your eldest sister” Rhys asked.

“I told you she could be intense” Feyre replied.

“That’s one word for it” Cassian expressed and was met with a glare from Nesta.

—-

Thinking they had left, y/n descended the stairs, dressed in her nightgown and robe, seeking out a comforting cup of tea in the quiet atmosphere of midnight. Opening the backdoor leading to their garden, she leaned against the door frame, admiring the stars as she sipped her tea. She took a deep breath appreciating the tranquility and solitude the night provided. She could’ve sworn the shadows moved, but she dismissed it believing it was hallucinations caused by exhaustion from a long trip. Noticing a bright star in the sky, she lifted her cup up and uttered “cheers” a sad smile appearing on her face…

As she was locking the door, she glimpsed a figure in the shadows. This time, unable to dismiss what she saw, she called out “who’s there?”.

At first there was no response but she called out again “I know there’s someone here, so I suggest you come out” she demanded.

Azriel hesitated but complied “I apologize, I did not mean to disturb you”.

“What are you still doing here?” She covered herself with the robe, the gesture did not go unnoticed by Azriel.

“Your gracious sisters allowed us to stay here for a while” he informed her.

“Have they now?” she nodded, clearly displeased by the information she just received “how long are you planning on staying here?”.

“Not long. As soon as the letter is delivered, we’ll be out of your way, I give you my word” he politely said.

“Your word means nothing to me. And if you’re staying at someone’s house, do not sneak up on them” her words as cold as ice.

“I wasn-“ before Azriel could explain, she had left, making his jaw clench in frustration.

The following day, she went downstairs earlier to get some breakfast, but what was early for her, was late for others. Upon entering the kitchen, she found Rhys and Feyre engaged in a conversation with Elain, while Nesta and Cassian bickered over their tea. Azriel was standing in the corner and when he saw her enter, his whole body tensed, and Cassian and Nesta went still

“Good morning” Rhys greeted and was met with silence.

Y/n prepared her breakfast when Feyre approached her “how did you sleep?” Y/n just stared at her sister without saying a word. Once she was done preparing her food, she took it and left without acknowledging anyone’s existence. As Cassian and Nesta resumed their bickering, Azriel finally relaxed, prompting Rhys to speak again “not a good morning, I guess?” He joked.

“Oh believe me, this is a good morning. If you think this was something, then you really don’t want to see her angry” Feyre remarked.

“Is she always like this?” Cassian asked.

“Give her time. She doesn’t like strangers and she most definitely hates Fae-kind” Feyre reminded.

“Yeah, that was clear” Cassian said.

“You’re talking about her like she’s a bad person” Nesta defended.

“Nesta, you know that’s not what I meant” Feyre tried to explain.

“All I’ve seen you do since you got here is criticizing y/n. She’s done nothing wrong” Nesta reminded.

“I’m sorry, but you know how y/n can be”.

“How? All she did was ignore you all, instead of engaging in a pitty argument that would hit your weak spots, and last I’ve known, she does not owe any of you anything. If you’re going to stay in this house, then better respect their owners” Nesta expressed.

“Nesta!” Elain said, clearly displeased with her sister’s tone.

—-

“Can I come in?” Nesta asked permission to enter y/n’s room.

“What is it now?” Y/n opened the door.

“I wanted to spend some time with you”

“Don’t you have guests to entertain?” Y/n crossed her arms.

“Elain and Feyre can deal with them. I’d rather stay here with you”.

“Fiine” y/n rolled her eyes but allowed her sister into her room.

“They already have a bad impression of you” Nesta told her.

“When did I ever care about what people thought of me? Let alone, what male Fae thought of me” y/n chuckled “it bothered you, didn’t it?”.

“Of course it did. I wouldn’t allow anyone to speak badly of you”.

“They’re just words spoken by irrelevant people. When you acknowledge their words, you make them relevant. Remember Nesta, you decide who you give power over you”.

The next day, Feyre, Rhys and Azriel were absent from the kitchen when y/n arrived “oh, for fuck’s sake, how do you two find the energy to fight this early in the morning?” Y/n asked, clearly awoken by the sound of Cassian and Nesta arguing.

“It’s noon” Cassian corrected.

“Whatever. If you’re gonna argue, do it outside. Hearing your voice gives me headaches” y/n uttered.

“And here I thought my voice was soothing” he sarcastically said.

“Don’t. Just don’t!” Cassian’s attempt at humor was met with y/n’s annoyance.

“Rough night?” he asked.

“More like a rough couple of days. Some people clearly don’t know how to be good guests” Y/n started making herself a cup of coffee.

“Well, maybe that’s because some people don’t know how to be polite hosts” he snickered.

“You know what? You’re not worth my time, if you want to argue, you have Nesta. She apparently has the patience for it”.

“Y/n” Nesta called.

“What? You do love arguing” y/n reminded.

“Wow, the two of you in the same house as poor Elain and Feyre, how did they survive?”.

“By knowing when to speak and when to shut up” y/n glared at him, taking her coffee and leaving and he said something.

—-

“What now?” Y/n asked as Feyre called for her sisters “We can leave soon to mail our letter” informing them.

“And this concerns me how?” Y/n asked.

“I-I thought you’d like to go with us”.

“Why would I do that? No, thank you”… “wasn’t there one more of you?” Y/n asked, pretending to just have realized Azriel wasn’t present.

“He had to return early. We had an altercation this morning” Feyre explained.

“Altercation?” Y/n narrowed her eyes,

“It’s nothing”.

“If you’re trying to hide it, then it is something”.

“She was attacked” Rhys claimed.

“What? By whom? And you call THIS nothing?” Y/n started checking her sister for injuries and both males’ eyes widened in surprise.

“I’m fine. I’m not hurt”.

“Who attacked you?”.

“It’s rather a what. She was attacked by a creature called the Attor who was sent by the king of Hybern” Rhys informed her “don’t worry, Az is taking care of it”.

To his surprise, she only nodded.

“I changed my mind. I’m coming with you” y/n announced.

“Don’t tell me it’s because I was attacked” Feyre smirked.

“Oh, shut up!” Y/n nudged her with her shoulder.

[thatanimeramenchick]

What would happen if when the alastor and the reader were human, they met... Human type! Alastor being a yandere and devouring competitors for his beloved, but he never got his happy ending with the reader when he was human... But now the reader went to heaven for being a good person and Alastor to hell... What would happen?

Alastor and Eternal Separation

He shouldn’t be surprised, how this turned out.

In the eyes of the world, he was the devil, and you were an angel. That’s why he had liked you. You had been sweet, gentle, kind. You had a patient disposition, putting up with verbal abuse as you worked at the shop downtown he frequented to find new suits. And you always, always had a smile gracing your features, at least when you were facing others. There was a tender charm about you that had seemed otherworldly compared to the night life he was familiar with.

The attraction had been slow, strange. Alastor had supposed he simply had high standards. That had to have been why it had taken so long to find anyone who made him feel the way he did around you. While most women were quite lovely, there was a certain spark, an inspiration he had always found lacking, but there was something about your innocent, charm that had particularly touched the more tender side of him. Even after finding you fascinating, there was none of the vulgar talk that often was thrown around when men discussed their gals or even their wives. It was more of an appreciation of beauty and personality than any kind of fleshly desire. The way one wishes to have a classical work in their home to be admired, studied, relished again and again and again until one fully understands it down to the artist’s deepest intentions.

He supposed a part of him thought that that must have made his love pure, more upright than that of other men, especially the one’s who dared look at you with such a filthy gaze. If anything, he had been a white knight of chivalry, disposing of those disgusting animals. And yet he had ended up in hell, separated from you. He shouldn't be surprised as corrupt as this nasty world was, that the very root of the system be broken, separating the two of you.

There was only one recourse, one solution to this problem. Clearly he wasn’t going to be going up there anytime soon.

So he had to find a way to bring you down here.

No, you didn’t deserve hell, but he’d protect you as he always had. He’d create his own heaven for you. To do that though would require power and influence in the heavenly realm, and there was only one person in hell with authority where he could even have a chance of his influence gracing heaven’s door.

It was time to make a visit.

---

Some thoughts: I feel like it's hard to say what he would do, other than I feel like Alastor definitely plays the long game. He'd spend a lot of time ruminating and experimenting to find a way to bring the two of you back together, even if it meant upending heaven itself. There may be a time period, where he feels like he is defeated, but I feel like he has a knack for digging up information that others don't want him to know. He'd bide his time until he gets the right piece and then act on it.

[agoodroughandtumble]

Do You Think They Know? - Zoro x Reader

Status: Complete (Part 1 of 5) Summary: A culmination of oneshots ascertaining Reader & Zoro's relationship Warning: SWF - following parts may include 18+, Language, implied smut

1.

To say you enjoyed watching Zoro during his daily work out would be an understatement. But you were only human – were you not supposed to notice when the incredibly attractive shirtless swordsman decided to get hot and sweaty right in front of you?

You bit your lip, trying not to stare quite so overtly at the bead of sweat threatening to make its way down his temple. Alright… maybe you were there deliberately for that very reason. A very, slight, small chance. And no way a thought out process and perfect timing. But Zoro was like clockwork. Which, if you were being honest, made your life a lot easier. It was certainly not a coincidence when you had asked Nami if she wanted to join you on deck to sunbathe. Obviously she was aware of your intention but thankfully was willing to play the fool and allow you to indulge in the “surprise” that Zoro just so happened to be half naked and sweaty as you were setting up the sun-loungers.

You cast a quick glance over in her direction but she didn’t seem to be paying attention – face turned towards the sky and enjoying one of the more peaceful moments aboard the Merry. The wind was gently toying with her hair and you couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious about how relaxed and confident she looked, seemingly without effort. Whereas you were fighting the urge to fight your shorts for the twentieth time in an attempt to look perfectly casual but also hot as fuck. It was a line you had never managed to toe.

“One of these days I’m just going to lock you two in the hold.” Nami said, leaning up slightly to give you a knowing look.

You could feel your cheeks getting warmer. It was certainly no secret that you had certain … inclinations towards Zoro but Nami wasn’t usually so upfront about her knowledge of it. Although your perverted mind was quite enjoying the idea of being locked in small confinement… Urgh. No. “I’m just sunbathing.” You said, relaxing more into your lounger until a thought popped into your head. You turned towards her, eyebrows furrowed, “Wait – what do you mean?”

Nami rolled her eyes. “Er. The eye fucking. It’s pretty obvious.”

You glared at her. “Yes, I know I am. Has he said anything? Is he … eye fucking?”

Her eyebrows furrowed, lips pressing into the corner of her mouth; giving you a look as if you’d just asked if water was wet. “Yeah, this is a you guys thing.”

You playfully slapped her thigh, “You started this. Least you can do is tell me what to do about it?”

The redhead shrugged, shuffling further into her lounger. “I heard about this cool new thing called “talking”. Maybe try that?”

You rolled your eyes. “I hate you. Do I look alright?”

A smirk crossed her features. “Just talk to him.”

Taking Nami’s advice you tried to casually walk over to him. He was just finishing with his weights, presumably about to start on press-ups. Of course you hadn’t watched his routines enough times by now to find the perfect time to make an appearance. That would be weird. And slightly stalker-ish. It just so happened that yours and Nami’s conversation had come to a natural conclusion and so the opportunity to speak to Zoro had simply fallen into your lap. So Nami could stop looking at you like that.

“Does being shirtless help build muscle?” You asked, cocking your head.

Zoro rolled his eyes, trying to keep the smirk from his face, “Too distracting for you?”

“You wish.” Arms folded against your chest, you continued. “If I wanted to be distracted by an attractive guy I’d go to the kitchen.”

His face hardened a little. “I’d like to see Curly Brows lift something heavier than his ego.”

“Hmm.” Despite Zoro’s obvious irritation, you couldn’t help but push a little further. Besides, it was far too easy to wind Zoro up as soon as Sanji was involved. Practically an open goal. “Well, he must be doing something right to look like that.”

There was a pause. Then the penny dropped. Zoro let out a frustrated grunt. “Did you come over solely to wind me up?”

“Not solely,” a hint of a smirk swept across your features, “But that’s definitely a positive outcome.”

His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you towards his chest. You stumbled slightly, letting out a giggle until the muscle wall of his chest made you catch your breath. His eyes were entirely focused on yours. You swallowed. “What did you come over here for then?”

Somehow managing to gain your composure you stepped backwards out of his grip. Maintaining eye contact, fuck, it was hard to have any cerebral activity when he looked at you like that. You steadied yourself. Focus. You shot him a smile, “That would be telling.”

*

It might be the way he loomed over you. It might be the way his body appeared – and felt – like a solid wall of muscle. It might be the way your leg oh so naturally draped over his hips – either way, whenever Zoro asked if you wanted to join him for a nap there was not a single atom in your body that could refuse.

He was always sprawled out – work out trousers and either a vest or shirtless allowing you to sink completely into his warmth (and his arms, although you always tried and failed to notice that part). When you had first started napping together it was purely just for a nap after training. Zoro would be unconscious within seconds and you would lie there staring at him willing, needing him to make any sort of move towards you. So you wouldn’t sleep. You would shift away from him as far as possible, back to back, trying to desperately ignore the few agonizing inches separating your feet from his. Desperately hoping that he was feeling the same way, that he would be the first one to fold. And then he would start snoring.

Not exactly the precursor to making bad decisions.

But. Then.

Because he was an arsehole he would wrap his arms around you. He would bury his face into your neck. He would still snore, so still managing to prevent you from sleeping. But he was there. Intertwining limbs – sometimes practically on top of you whilst being completely oblivious to you lying there and wishing he was doing something, anything.

Or at least anything other than snoring so you could sleep too.

It was during one of these “naps” when Zoro essentially had you in a choke hold and all you could think about was how maybe he could have you in a different sort of choke hold when Robin walked into the cabin, opened her mouth to say something and on making eye contact quickly shut the door again. You let out a frustrated sigh and tried to push Zoro off of you. He was a dead weight. You festered in your embarrassment.