#that I can remember at least. if someone has a better memory of it feel free to add on

[kasagia]

In death's arms

Pairing: Annatar/Sauron x fem!maia! reader Summary: There was nothing Sauron regretted doing. Every nasty thing he did to gain power paid off for him, and given the choice again, he would do it all over again. Or so he thought, until his path was crossed with someone from his past. It turns out that some of his mistakes are destined to haunt him forever. Author's note: A little sth that stuck in my head after watching Agatha All Along... this is pure fiction and probably wouldn't work in Middle-earth, but since I've written it... 😅 I've been completely out of it lately and everything's been going so fast in my life lately, so I'm terribly sorry if I've missed any messages/comments from you! I'm trying to catch up slowly! Anyway, enjoy! Halbrand's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

“Have you come to torment me again?” He asks, gathering the last of his strength to mock you as you appear before him.

From the nasty grin you give him, instead of being angry at his mockery, he realises how bad a state he is in. Morgoth has just put him through one of his tests. Sauron no longer remembers what he had to do. But he remembers his master's anger when he failed. He remembers clearly every cut he inflicted on him, every wound, every spilt blood that stained his skin and clothes, or at least the shreds that remained of them.

He no longer counted how much of his blood had soaked into his clothes and how much into the stone floor and wall behind him. And the seemingly irritating digging of the bars into his neck and skin stopped bothering him as the metal and his body became one.

"Contrary to appearances, your new master is not willing enough to hand you over to me. Too bad. You'd look pretty in your grave, Mairon. Oh, forgive me. Old habits die hard, Sauron."

He trembles when you speak his true name. The name given to him by the Valar. It sounds both sweet and deadly on your lips. A reminder of what he has lost, of what he could have had, had his lust for power been kept in check, had he never left the forge…

"He needs me. He knows that only I can lead his army to the victory."

"Victory, death. What's the difference, right?" You reply with a smirk that sends an unpleasant shiver down his spine.

He feels... uneasy around you. It wasn't something he was used to. Your presence always brought him some kind of comfort and peace, but now... now everything was different. He and you had changed. Not necessarily for the better.

"I suppose it makes no difference to you whether you take me in a dungeon or on a battlefield."

"But your honour wouldn't allow you to be beneath me, would it, my sweet deceiver?" You mock him and laugh, which sends a cold, unpleasant shiver down his spine.

Your laughter is so different from the one he remembers. It is bleak and harsh as the blade he once forged for you, and which you now carry at your side.

He remembered loving to bask in the glow of your laughter, in the halls of the Valar, as you feasted and danced, living as carefree a life as could be. Sometimes he longed for those days... to spend another one like this, so that he could engrave it forever in his memory and cling to it to save himself from total corruption and rottenness.

"Why do you keep showing up? You know that you can't get your claws on me."

"I am aware about that. But every moment like this will only sweeten the day when I finally take you in my arms, my dear deceiver. And believe me... you will not escape once I finally get my hands on you. In the end, all paths lead to one person. And it is not Morgoth. It is not any of your Valar. It is not any being that you know. In the end, you will come to me. And you will suffer more than Morgoth ever made you do, my Dark Lord."

You press your lips to his forehead—the place where Morgoth smashed his skull into the wall and split his head. He trembles as your lips press against raw, bleeding skin. You groan, running your tongue over his wound, tasting his black blood. And he cries out as you send waves of pain through him worse than any Morgoth had inflicted on him.

He holds his breath as your other hand lazily caresses the skin of his arm, tracing patterns with your black nails, only to suddenly dig them into the open wounds Morgoth had inflicted on him. Sauron groans in pain, trembling in your arms. You press your lips to his, drinking in his every cry as you caress him with your gentle touch and send waves of pain shooting through every tiny particle of his body.

"I will drink in every one of your sweet screams, my dearest. I will bask in every pain your being feels. Until all you remember, all you know, is me and my blade." You whisper your promise, and as suddenly as you came, you disappeared.

You leave him trembling and crying on the cold stone floor, dirty with his blood. And though he hated the times you came to mock him, he was relieved that you didn't leave him completely alone. Even if you only came to drive the knives Morgoth had placed inside him deeper.

He needed you. As pathetic as it was, he needed those little moments with you to keep him from going completely crazy during his darkest hours and the tests his master put him through.

But he lived with the hope that one day he would be able to repay you with the same sweet torture. That one day he would be the one to listen to your sighs of pain... or cries of pleasure. He wasn't sure yet whether he loved or hated you more—even though you seemed to already have your mind set about your feelings towards him.

Adar has betrayed him. He has betrayed him in the worst possible way. Sauron lies on the floor, surrounded by Orcs who drive the blades of Morgoth's crown into him as their Lord-Father looks on passively.

This couldn't be the end. He couldn't end like this. He couldn't be defeated like Morgoth had been, not by the filthy stinking Orcs and someone he had considered a friend. His master had been right; if they didn't fear you, you were nothing to them. There was no ally so powerful, so loyal, and true as fear. And now he was learning his lesson once again. In the most painful way possible.

He took small, ragged breaths that burned his body every time his lungs tried to expand and draw in air. Blood dripped from almost every inch of his body. And suddenly, in the distance, a few feet from those nasty orcs, he sees you.

You watch his fall with complete calm. You play carelessly with the blade he gave you, waiting for his end, letting the orcs finish their work. He sees no emotion on your face. Ironic, considering that this is probably the best day of your life. He will finally get his punishment from you. There was nothing he could do to escape you... unless...

He gasps especially hard when one of the orcs plunges a blade into his heart. As if through a haze, he sees Adar above him, who, after making sure that his physical body has been completely destroyed, says something to his orcs. Sauron hears only a screech in his ears as his battered heart gives its last beat. And then there is only darkness. Bleak darkness, which is quickly interrupted by a song all too familiar to him.

"Come, come, my lost soul, you will find your peace. Come, come, down your road, straight into my arms."

Sauron remembers the countless nights after Morgoth's torture, when you sang it to him and mocked him, giving him a taste of what you would do when you could finally take him in your arms.

Once it was a simple lullaby. A lullaby you made up for him when he couldn't calm his mind, when he spent too much time in Aulë's forge, too absorbed in his work to see you. Now you were attracting souls who were about to meet their end.

But he is not ready for death yet. He does not want to go like this. Not when he has known no power, not when the sacrifice he made of himself has brought him nothing at all. He does not want to go into your arms, knowing that he has thrown away everything he had with you for nothing.

"Look where your lust has taken you, my darling." You tell him with a smirk, taking your time as you walk towards him.

He kneels, swaying as he tries to keep his balance. He falls on both hands in front of you, taking in shuddering breaths as the black bonds of your magic close around him, crushing him in a tight embrace.

"I thought you loved my embrace? You told me so. Remember? When we lay together in the halls of the Valar, each held tightly, when you swore to me that you would not yield to Morgoth's influence, that what we have was enough, that you would never dream of more than what we have? Tell me, did you plan to betray me even then, or did you forget your promises in time?"

After each of your mockery comes a blow from you. Sometimes it's a simple kick, sometimes a punch delivered from your fist, and sometimes you pierce his body with a dagger, tormenting him even more and twisting him so that the blade grazes every single muscle of his. You were going for your revenge. And nothing was going to stop you.

"Pathetic. You wanted power. You wanted power so great that millions would kneel before you, and now you are on your knees. You were willing to do anything; you gave up everything just to fulfil your dark desires. Tell me, Sauron, was it worth it? Because I am truly happy with this turn of events."

He gasps as you grab him by the neck, forcing his gaze to meet yours. He trembles, staring into your black, dilated pupils. Your face is nothing like the one he remembers. You look like death. You are the real death. He trembles, seeing what the Vaalr did to you after he left and what punishment they gave you for loving a traitor. He looks away, wanting to momentarily ease his guilt and helplessness, but your tightening grip on his neck won't let him.

"You have no idea how long I've dreamed of this. You have no idea how long I've wanted to tear out every last piece of you just to put you back together and present you to the Valar, to give you into their hands so you could suffer as you should. Do you think that what you became was all your fault? That they wanted to punish us for our love? I asked them to make me something you fear, something you must reckon with. I am what everyone sees at the end; I am what takes everyone, even the mightiest of men. I am the end of Morgoth, the end of all evil, all good, the end of everything. I am death." You growl and throw him across the room.

He groans in pain, but he doesn't try to run away from you anymore. He knows that without his physical form, without any power, he won't hide from you. He was in your world, in the thrall of your power. And if he wanted to somehow escape from your grip, he had to play his cards right.

"I never wanted this for you... I never wanted this for us." He gasps, glancing at you. You walk slowly toward him, your black outfit billowing behind you, giving you an ethereal, trash-like look. As much as he fears you, he yearns to have you by his side. But he's not foolish or naive enough to believe you'll ever be on his side again.

"You left me! You left me to rot in the light of the Valar!! You tore my heart, all my humanity, destroyed everything I was, and left me alone. What did you want then, deceiver? What did you want, if not my absolute destruction, so that the vestiges of my past would not torment you in your greedy quest for power?"

He grunts as you drive your sword through his side. He grabs your hand, the one resting on the hilt, and pulls you toward him. You land on the floor with him, and before you can react, he's straddling you, placing the metal against your neck as he leans over you. His blood decorates your skin as his hand cups your cheek. Any attempts to fight him die inside you as his skin touches yours. You freeze for a moment, unused to someone's touch after so long alone, and he takes advantage of it as much as he can.

"I… I've always wanted… I've dreamed of you standing beside me… as my queen. My equal… I… I would never turn my back on you completely." He mumbles, pressing his nose to your temple. You break your dark vision of death for a moment and show him the face he knew so well, the one he had missed for so long that tears came to his eyes. You kick him in the chest and push him away, trying to regain some control. You reach for your neck and wipe away his blood. Without taking your eyes off him, you lick your fingers clean.

"You would trade me for the power Morgoth had at the first opportunity. You have no heart. You never did. And I was too naive to see you for who you really were." With a flick of your wrist, the bonds around him reappear. His wrists and ankles are bound and he is immobilized as he waits for you to make your final move and take his soul from this world forever.

"I have a heart. As black and rotten as yours. And it beats for you. Always has, always will. Even if you seek to destroy me utterly… even if you are left all alone after you have done your duty to the Valar and taken me into your sweet, hellish embrace." He says, only half-feigning contrition for what he had done.

He loved you. If there was one thing he was certain of about his old life, it was that he had loved you deeply. But not enough to become just another servant of the Valar. He wanted more. He had to have more. If he couldn't have you by his side, he would be content to fight with you. Until death do you part.

"If you loved me, you would never leave me." The slight tremor in your voice gives him hope that this meeting will go as he had hoped.

He lifts his gaze to you, studying you as you stand before him. The dagger in your hand is still a painful reminder of what it could cost him if he doesn't say the right words, but for now all he can think about is how wonderfully terrifying you look, standing before him in all your glory and power.

You captivate him. You tempt him. The Valar knew what they were doing when they made you the Lady of Death. You would be his undoing. He knows it. Eventually he will fall, and there will be no turning back. But before he does... he wants to make sure he remains legendary and eternal.

"It was because I loved you that I had to leave you. I didn't want to taint you with my darkness. You were pure. You were the sweetness that I wanted to drink and destroy at the same time for my own pleasure. You would not have had a better fate with me." He tries to defend himself by touching your most sensitive spot. He sees your ardour slowly subside as you begin to really consider his words.

You hesitate. He can see it in your gaze. He can see that the vision of your dream future he's presented to you is starting to tempt you. If he'd pushed you just a little further, if he'd said a few more words, maybe you'd really join his side? Maybe you'd be a force against the world? Maybe if he hadn't left you completely alone, maybe you could have had it all?

You walk up to him and stop a few millimetres away from him. If he takes a deep breath, his chest can gently brush against yours. He wants so badly to drive the blade into you and simultaneously capture your lips in a kiss that it's a confusing feeling in his current situation. You wanted him dead. That's what you came here for. To take him away. And yet you still had your ways of making him want you.

You lean forward, your hair brushing his cheek as your tongue traces the shell of his ear. He shivers as your cold breath contrasts with the warm saliva you spread before you bite down on his skin teasingly.

"I was soaked in it long before you even thought about leaving, my sweet deceiver. Now, I am just darkness." You whisper in his ear. You move away millimetres, far enough to look him in the eyes.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you raise your blade, preparing to deal the final blow and take his soul forever, locking him away in a cell next to Morgoth, most likely.

So in a desperate act of self-savement, or perhaps out of the lust you've awakened in him, or perhaps out of the pure desire to taste your lips one more time before he leaves this world, he leans down and kisses you.

And it surprises you. Sauron hears the dagger fall from your hand to the floor as you reach for his hair, tangling your hands in it. He groans and tugs at the bonds you've trapped him in so he can wrap his arms around you and take you in his arms like he wanted to all along, but you don't let him move an inch. He growls in rage and bites your lip in retaliation, drawing blood—a random action that saves him from his predicament.

With each drop of your blood, he feels the power within him begin to bubble up again. Before you know it, he breaks your bonds and pushes you against the wall behind you. You groan in protest, trying to push him away from you. You try to summon your powers to immobilise him again, but he plunges his blade into your arm, effectively distracting you.

You cry out in pain, cursing his name, but he has only one goal in mind. He tears your clothes and burrows into your skin, biting and caressing every exposed part, feeding on your blood and power, restoring his soul the vitality it needs.

You are a mess of black blood and tears as he feasts on you, outsmarting you and binding you in your own shackles that you used against him.

"You won't take me as easily as you take these mortals." He growls against your skin, drinking your blood as he uses his knife to carve tiny cuts into your skin, decorating it with both black liquid and hickeys, marks from his bites and fingers.

“You’ll pay for this.” You moan as he bites into your neck, leaving a messy, bloody trail. He licks his lips and grabs you roughly by the waist, pulling you closer so you can feel the bulge of his cock against your thigh.

"Then, my sweet death, you will take me as a happy man." He growls in your ear before smashing his lips against yours in another kiss. You don't register the moment he takes your amulet from you.

His kisses numb you to the point where you don't register anything but him. All that matters to you is the way his hands caress your body, the way his lips defile every little inch of you. It feels so good to finally feel someone's touch on you…so good to finally feel HIS touch on you.

"I think that few people have the privilege of saying that they fucked death..." He mumbles in your ear, drunk on the feeling of you beneath him.

And just when he's about to bring you the greatest pleasure, just when he's teased your core long enough that you clench around his fingers desperate for more, he does something far worse than drive your dagger through you. He leaves you completely alone again.

You scream, furious and frustrated, both for having him deceive you and sexually for not giving you the release you deserved. You pound your fists on the ground and scream long and shrilly—enough that he will surely be able to hear you, whatever pathetic form he has taken since breaking out of your realm.

And driven by hot fury, you know only one thing—he will pay for this. Even if you were to seek him out and ignore your duties. You'll get him in your arms.

There was something addictive about the way people were drawn to him.

Ever since Sauron took the form of Annatar, the people of Eregion had flocked to him like moths to a flame, seeking gifts from the great messenger of the Valar. He liked the power he had over them. How one of his (false) words could turn them into his obedient puppets who would do anything to fulfill the prophecy he had foretold.

However, with the number of creatures circling around him, he had increasing difficulty maintaining the illusion he had cast over the city.

This is exactly what has happened now.

Annatar/Sauron was cleaning up the mess he had made by killing one of the elves who had discovered too quickly what was happening beyond the walls of his safe illusion. He could not afford for the whispers of panic to reach the ears of the only blacksmith whose skills were satisfactory.

Lifting the body, he freezes suddenly as a cold shiver runs through him. The atmosphere in the room changes. The only lit torch goes out, the smell of sulfur begins to fill the air, the rats that were roaming the basement disappear, and the only sound in the room is his breathing. He looks around, trying to see through the darkness of the room, but all he can see is red blood on his hands..

He frowns, looking around him as he realises the body he was supposed to get rid of is gone. He walks over to the extinguished torch and relights it, illuminating the room once more. He looks around for the body, but all he sees are the empty corridors of the underground. He frowns and focuses his senses, trying to sense any additional presence or power that would mess with his head.

And then he hears it. A soft humming from down the hall. He automatically reaches to his side, where his sword is strapped to his belt, and slowly walks toward the sound of soft singing.

"Come, come, my lost soul, you will find your peace. Come, come, down your road, straight into my arms." He freezes in mid-step. Goosebumps rise across his body, and he feels his breath quicken.

Memories—unwanted, painful memories—flood his mind as he stands in the empty hallway, wondering if he should go down. Involuntarily, his memories go back to the day he survived one of Morgoth's most demanding trainings—the day he found out what the consequences of his actions brought to you...

"I didn't know you were a coward, Y/N! Are you going to show yourself? Or should I leave you to your work and go back to mine?" He asks cheekily, trying to get you out of your hiding place. He knows how dangerous you've become, and as much as it fascinates him, he doesn't want to be on the receiving end of your blade... or claws. "I bet you're as busy as I am these days." He mumbles, pacing the empty hallways where your humming still echoes.

He glances over his shoulder a few times, wanting to make sure that you won't surprise him with a dagger to his neck.

Sauron won't admit to himself that he's afraid of you; he just knows the threat you pose to him. There was nothing worse than a mad woman—especially an unpredictable woman. And he was foolish enough to get on your bad side, to betray you, and don't look back. But how could he possibly know that you would get punished for his action? How could he predict that you will be paying off his sins to Valar? That only showed how unjust they were. Not only to you, but to him as well.

"Won't you show me your face?" He asks, still searching for the slightest sign that will give away your presence. But your soft singing, the haunting song that makes his heart beat faster, pumping adrenaline through his body, makes it impossible for him to fully devote himself to the task of finding you. Not if he doesn't want to end up with a sword in his chest. "Valar knows how I missed looking at it."

He turns around and, as if on cue, you appear to him. He presses his lips together tightly, refraining from gasping in surprise when he sees you in all your glory. He swallows hard when his gaze falls on your deformed face that you show him. A bloodthirsty smile, full of black fangs, sunken cheeks, and no nose, is one of the less... drastic forms in which you like to show yourself lately. Sauron knows how much you want to scare him; he hopes he doesn't give you too much entertainment.

"I would have a lot less work to do, my sweet deceiver, if you would just give yourself to me as you should and stopped playing Valar. You won't fool me a third time." You warn him, stepping closer. You see his throat tremble as he swallows, and he gently closes his eyes for a moment to inhale your scent and take in a little of your closeness.

You were so damn dangerous, deadly even... and he wanted more. Even though he knew full well that this desire would probably lead him to his grave.

"But wthout me you'd be terribly bored, wouldn't you?" He asks, giving you one of his smirks. He was playing with death, literally. He wondered how many times he could get out of your cruel clutches before he finally ran out of escape routes.

He freezes when you gently place your hand on his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertip. He grits his teeth, staring at you wordlessly as you play with a strand of his blonde hair.

"Where's your elf?" You whisper against his lips, leaning in close enough that it’s a challenge for him to stay away from you. You should be a repulsive threat to him, nothing more than an enemy to be defeated. But for some reason, whether it’s your past, the pull that’s always been between you, or the power that’s bound you together, he can’t feel anything for you but pure lust.

"She left." He says shakily, wondering if you were jealous of him, if you watched him and Galadriel, if you planned her death when he declared that he wanted her to be his queen...

"Too bad... I would gladly take her in my arms. I guess I can only wait then. There is nothing more pleasant than meeting them all at the end of their path. They act as if they were truly immortal. You have no idea how surprised most of them are when they cross my path. Almost as surprised as you were when you first saw me in this form."

"I would appreciate seeing you more often if it weren't related to your current… job position." You chuckle darkly and grab his hand at his words.

You lift it between the two of you and pull out your dagger. You cut his palm, and he can only stand there, dazed, watching as you lick his black blood. You hum, tasting your power as it courses through his veins.

"Oh… but then it would be too boringly easy for you, right?" Your voice is velvety, like a balm to his frayed nerves. He allows himself to cling to you, completely forgetting that he should always be on guard with you. A mistake you won't fail to remind him of. "Tell me, Sauron… have you never heard of such a thing as being utterly charmed by death?"

Before his mind can process the meaning of your words, you have already pierced his hand with a dagger through and through. He groans in pain and tries to rip his hand from your iron grip, but you won't let him. You rip off your amulet that he stole from you, which he hung on a necklace around his neck, and you place it on his wound. You chant the appropriate words and drain him of all the power that he stole from you all those years ago—the power that helped him be reborn again.

"Next time you lay your hands on something that doesn't belong to you, I'll chop them off. I think I can find a much better use for them. A more… satisfying one, if you still know what I mean." You mock him, twisting his wrist.

He growls in pain and shoves you back, sending you crashing into the wall behind you. You raise your blade higher, pressing it against his neck as he steps closer to you. You laugh as you feel him press his own weapon against your chest.

"Well, well, well. I see you've learned something after all. Tell me, my beloved, are you afraid of me?" You whisper hoarsely, licking your lips as you lean into him. You make a move to bite into his neck, but he pulls away from you at the last second, frowning at your amused, dark chuckle.

"Only a fool wouldn't be afraid of you."

"Like calls to like, right?" You pose the question, raising an eyebrow at him. You take advantage of his momentary distraction and push him against the wall. You press yourself against him and capture his lips in a bruising, hungry kiss.

He gasps into your mouth and tangles his hands in your hair, pulling you even closer. Your darkness is addictive. He wants to bask in it, to experience it so deeply that he can become intoxicated by it. He wants to bond with you and experience the same kind of limitless power that you possess. A force that borders on death itself.

As the kiss deepens, he begins to feel you slowly draining his life force. He knows he has to pull away, but not yet. He wants to taste your lips, your sighs, and your soft moans as he caresses you through the material of your night-black dress for as long as he can. But he knows that with each little touch, kiss, and soft moan, he will want more, and it will be harder for him to pull away from you.

That's why he's reluctant to push you away. But when he does, he feels how much you've weakened him with that little kiss. He gasps, laughing thoughtfully as he struggles to even out his heartbeat and his breaths. Now he understands all that talk about deadly kisses. But if he had to choose how he died, your lips were a very tempting option.

"Enjoy the time you have left. We both know that eventually you too will find me at the end of your road. On the way… try not to bother me too much with all the dead bodies and souls you've forced me to take care of." You wink at him and blow him a kiss before disappearing, returning to the other side where the soul of the mortal he killed was waiting for you.

Sauron is surprised that you let him go so easily after his last... antics. But he knows that you didn't leave him alive out of the kindness of your heart. You enjoyed the cat and mouse game between you; you enjoyed tormenting him with the idea that you could take his soul at any moment. So he had to think of a way to make it harder for you.

He returns to the forge and absently strokes the box with the 7 rings for the dwarves. If he had divided his soul… left fragments of it in each of them, it would be impossible for you to gather them all and drag him to the world of the dead, where you could torment him as you pleased…

Or perhaps, in time, he would find a way to tame death itself and submit it to his will?

One thing was sure. At the right time, you will come for him. And you will take away everything he has worked so hard for.

Just like you always do.

He had a few centuries to figure out how to cheat death again. And how to make sure that you will be the one to fall into the trap of his arms. Not the other way around.

[bookwyrminspiration]

Alright, I'm currently going through that free online version of Stellarlune just so I can see curly haired Bronte and all the Kenric scenes, and possibly Fintan, do you know what chapters are they in? Kenric seems like a fun character. Kinda toxic but I love him for it <3

-Heathen (Yes, this will be the only kotlc thing I have read. Well, aside from that Linh thing, but I barely remember it. It was basically just "I'm jealous of Glimmer because of how much time she's spending with Tam. That's my Tam time.")

(link for anyone else who wants it)

Hi Heathen!! I don't know if you've found those scenes yourself already or not, but in case you haven't, you appear to be referencing scenes that are all part of the cache.

That starts at chapter 12 (although the first cache secret doesn't start until chapter 13), and continuous to chapter 16! I believe everything you mentioned is in there, but there may be other scenes I'm forgetting.

If you do read all those chapters, that will be the most of keeper you've read! It's about 70 pages total, which is 10% of Stellarlune. Much longer than the Linh short story.

Hope that helps!

[asterdeer]

finished the suffering game graphic novel. reviewing my options now. think i’m gonna go with uhhhhhhhh Formless Overwhelming Melancholic Loneliness

[vadlings]

Represention of Autistic Frustration in Laios Dungeon Meshi

Like many other autistic people, I related strongly to Laios Touden while reading Dungeon Meshi. This post isn't going to spend time disputing whether he displays autistic traits or not—while I could do that, I want to focus on why specifically his portrayal struck a chord with me in a way the writing of most other autistic-coded characters has not.

Disclaimer: as the above suggests, this post is strongly informed by my own experiences as an autistic person, as well as the experiences of my neurodivergent friends with whom I have spoken about this subject. I want to clarify that in no way am I asserting my personal experience to be some Universal Autistic Experience. This post is about why Laios' character feels distinct and significant to me in regard to autistic representation, and while I'm at it, I do feel that I have interesting things to say about autistic representation in media generally. This also got a bit long, so I'm sticking it under a read more. Spoilers for up to the end of chapter 88 below.

The thing that stands out most to me in regard to Laios' characterisation is the open anger he displays when someone points out his inability to read other people. This comes up prominently in his interactions with "Shuro" (Toshiro Nakamoto):

The frustration pictured above (Laios continuing to physically tussle with Toshiro, using crude language toward him) becomes even more notable when you remember that this is Laios, who, outside of these interactions, is not easily fazed and often exists as a lighthearted contrast to the rest of the cast. Then we get to Laios' nightmare.

In Falin's words: "Nightmares love emotional wounds. Wounds you hold in your heart. Things that give you stress, or things that were traumatic for you. They aggravate memories like that and cause the dreamer to have terrible dreams." (chapter 42, page 10.) (damn. i'm properly citing for this post and everything.)

Thus, Laios' nightmare establishes an important fact: even if he is unable to recognise social blunders while he's making them, he's at least subconsciously aware that other people operate on a different wavelength to him, and that he's an outsider in many of his social circles (both past and present). His dream-father's disparaging words stress the impact this has had upon his ability to live up to the expectations set out for him, and we also get a panel of kids who smirk at him (presumably former bullies to some degree). Toshiro's appearance only hammers home how much Laios is still both humiliated and angered by his misunderstanding of their relationship.

I've thought a lot about anger as concomitant to the autistic experience. When autistic representation portrays ostracization, it's generally from an angle of the autistic character being upset at how conforming to neurotypical norms doesn't come easily to them; as a result, they express a desire to 'get better' at meeting neurotypical standards, a desire to become more 'normal' (whether the writing implies this is a good thing or not). In contrast, not once does Laios go, "I need to perform better in my social interactions, and try to care less about monsters, because that's what other people find weird." His frustration is directed outward rather than inward, and as a result, it's the people around him who are framed as nonsensical.

The Winged Lion starts delineating Laios' anger, and Laios' reaction is to think to himself, "It can sense all my thoughts, huh?" (chapter 88, page 16.) This is the scene that really resonated with me. I'm not saying I have never felt the desire to conform to neurotypical norms that is borne from insecurity, but primarily, I know that I don't want to work toward becoming 'normal'—I don't want to change myself for people who follow rules I find nonsensical. It's the difference between, "Oh god, why can't I get it," and, "WHY CAN'T YOU GET IT?" (phrasing here courtesy of my friend Miles @dogwoodbite). And for me personally, Dungeon Meshi is the first time I've seen this frustration and the resultant voluntary isolation from other people portrayed in media so candidly. Laios' anger is not downplayed or written to be easily palatable, either.

The culmination of Laios' frustrations in this scene wherein we learn that Laios has fantasised about "a pack of monsters attacking a village" drives home just how alienated he really feels. I need not go into his wish to become a monster himself, redolent of how many autistic people identify/have identified with non-humans to some degree as a result of a percieved disconnect from society (when I was younger, I wanted to be a robot. I still kind of do.)

Obviously, wishing death upon other people is a weighty thing, but the unfiltered nature of this page is what deeply resonated with me. The Winged Lion is laying Laios' deepest and most transgressive desires bare, and they are desires that are a product of lifelong ostracization by others (whether intentional or unintentional). This is the brand of anger I'm familiar with, and that my neurodivergent friends express being familiar with, but that I haven't seen portrayed in writing so explicitly before—in fact, it surprised me because most well-meaning autistic representation I've experienced veers toward infantilisation in trying make the autistic character's struggles easy for neurotypicals to sympathise with.

Let's also not neglect the symbolism inherent to Laios' daydream. "A pack of monsters attacking a village". Functionally, monsters are Laios' special interest—he percieves everything first and foremost through his passion for monsters. His daydream of monsters attacking—killing—humans, is fundamentally a daydream of the world he understands (monsters) overthrowing the world that is so illogical to him, that has repeatedly shunned him (other people). I joked to my friends that it's an autistic power fantasy, and it actually sort of is. And in it, his identity is aligned with that of the monsters, while his anger manifests in a palpable dissociation from the rest of humanity. This is one manga page. It's brief. It's also very, very raw to me. I think about it often.

To conclude, I love Laios Dungeon Meshi. This portrayal of open frustration in an autistic character meant a lot to me, and I hope I've sufficiently outlined why. Also, feel free to recommend media with autistic representation in the notes if you've read this far—I would really like to see if there is more of this nature. Thank you for reading. I'm very tired and should probably sleep now.

[inbarfink]

One common Undertale misconception that really frustrates me is when Sans is portrayed with a strong innate sense for RESETs and alternative timelines. Like, that he remembers the RESET timelines better than the other characters who only have occasional feelings of deja vu or even that he can sense when a timeline is RESET.

And that’s, like, almost the opposite of the actual text of the game. While pretty much every main character can have slightly-different dialogue in a Not-True-RESET, especially if the Player had previously befriended them, based on the idea that they have lingering memories/feelings from before the RESET - 

Sans has no real dialogue changes based on this conceit. All of his changes are based around noticing Frisk has different reactions based on their memories of the precious timelines. 

Other characters do also make observations like that about Frisk, like Mettaton and Toriel. But Sans is distinctive because this is the only way his comments change between RESETs and there are a lot of them from him.

Because that is what really frustrates me about this misconception. People mention it as one more thing that makes Sans cool - but the actual truth is far more badass. Sans is one of the people in the Underground who remembers RESETs the least. I think memory-resistance to RESETs is probably tied to Determination. Flowey, the second-most Determined person in the Underground after Frisk, can remember everything perfectly.

Everyone else has some vague feelings and deja vus. And Sans, he’s the least motivated person in the Underground - both in the sense he’s lazy and in the sense he’s fucking depressed.

That probably means he has very little Determination. Thus, he doesn’t remember anything that happens between RESETs.

And yet, he is still the character most aware of them. Because he has the technological know-how to read and analyze timelines.

And because he has the observation and analytical skill to notice a RESET from other people’s reactions and behavior. Whatever it’s Papyrus thinking he recognizes someone or Frisk’s behavior implying that they know something they shouldn’t have. Sans main RESET-related skill is just being able to identify these moments and come to the correct conclusion about them. And with that he manages to be the most aware character in the entire Underground.

Like, the one point where it might seem like Sans remembers something from a previous Timeline is the Fake Spare scene during his boss battle. 

But it’s all pretend. Unlike the previous lines from other characters that I mentioned, this dialogue plays even if the Murder Route is the first time the player touched the game. Sans isn’t remembering anything in this scene. But he makes an educated guess that the Immoral Time God probably tried using their powers for good at first, so they were likely ‘friends’ in a previous timeline. And in most cases, his guess is right on the money - tricking many players into thinking this is another case of the game actually reacting to their past actions.

And as always, Sans can only tell if his lil’ trick worked or not based on the expression of the Player Character.

Arguably, Sans even uses his lack of Determination and cross-RESET memory to his advantage in his boss battle. After all, the whole point of this fight isn’t to kill the Player - Sans understands this is impossible. This is a war of attrition, trying to get the Player so frustrated and annoyed with the unfair fight that they just ragequit or RESET the Timeline. And this war of the Player’s patience versus Sans’ stamina and will is infinitely easier for him when he doesn’t actually perceive all the Player’s previous attempts against him.

Like, for the Player this might be the billion time they go up against him, they’re aware of some of his patterns and tricks now but they’re probably also frustrated and angry and exhausted. Meanwhile, from Sans’ POV, this is still the first time this is happening. He knows it’s not from the Player’s behavior and Frisk’s expression - but he doesn’t feel it like the Player does. 

He doesn’t feel the frustration and repetition of the endless stalemate. So he’s always as fresh as a daisy no matter how rugged the Player is getting.

And that’s part of why Sans is so cool in the first place, like, in general. He’s technically the weakest person in the Underground, lacking in every standard evaluation of power in the setting - no ATK, no DEF, no HP, no DETERMINATION. But he’s darn clever enough to overcome these weaknesses and even use them in ways that make them into strengths, enough to be one of the most dangerous and most aware guys in this whole setting.

Sans can’t remember anything, and that makes him awesome.

[iceunhie]

voicelines about you: as their lover ! (part 2)

featuring: sunday, aventurine, blade (+ black swan, acheron) [ part 1: dan heng, jing yuan, gepard, kafka, jingliu. ]

notes: well. the long awaited part 2 is here! (i took absolutely wayyy too long to finish this but a lovely anon requested the penacony cast so i just waited until now haha) stay tuned for either a future aventurine fic or a sunday fic tho; reblogs are appreciated! main masterlist.

Sunday

About [Name]: Ah, you speak of my beloved. [Name] has managed to strike your interest as well? Heh, I'm joking. You aren't that type of person, no? ….But yes, my lover truly is quite stellar, if not incomparable. I doubt I'd find anyone in the universe as lovely as I do them.

About [Name]: Smitten Robin often jokes about how my eyes change whenever I see them. ‘Softens like the smitten man you are,’ she says. Well, my sister is hardly wrong about matters of the heart, and to be fair, her words are indeed correct. While I cannot be with them every second of the day, despite my only wish to do so…. I suppose this much is fine. At the very least, this bewitched version of myself shall ward any that dare take [Name] away from me.

About [Name]: Preparation. …My mansion has everything [Name] shall ever desire. As for I, what I only desire is them alone, and for them to be right by my side. When the time is right, what's mine shall also be theirs, and none shall ever separate the two of us again. Should anyone attempt it, well, there's a reason my mansion is built the way it is.

Aventurine

About [Name]: [Name], [Name], [Name].... I see that you too have an eye for priceless treasures. Unfortunately for you, this particular one is already mine to behold. Mm, I wonder how my lover must be faring right now…. Missing them is truly, horribly debilitating.

About [Name]: Unworthy Whenever I think of [Name] being with me, of all people… Sometimes, the thought is unbearable. To think they would care for someone like me…. How truly lucky I am. Or maybe it's the other way around? Hehe, take a guess.

About Topaz: Contradictory Topaz and [Name] get along fairly well, despite her rather obvious dislike for me. Nonetheless, I suppose I can understand why. My lover is irresistibly charming~ Now, does this make me jealous, I wonder…. How about we bet on that?

Blade

About [Name]: Though this sword may be battered and broken, if you harbor any intention of harm towards them, I will not hesitate to brandish this blade.

About [Name]: Mara Infliction When afflicted with mara, the senses are ravaged ceaselessly, muddying the mind—being unable to distinguish ally from foe. This is my path. And yet their face is clear, pure amidst the carnage, alleviating the haze for but a moment. My mind may be overridden with hatred, but I will never forget that feeling of salvation.

(BONUS: Kafka’s Voiceline about [Name] !) About [Name]: Truly A Shame Bladie’s little darling, hm? Definitely a wonder, that one, taming him so easily. Those two are definitely an interesting case, that's for sure. Scary, marastruck Blade and them…. truly a shame. Even I know just how the ending of that particular script will end.

Acheron

About [Name]: …They are my lover, yes. Hm? Tell you more about them? Heh, I think you'd have better luck asking [Name] instead of me. I probably wouldn't even know where to begin.

About [Name]: Keeping Memories Despite the fact of my memories being in less than the best condition, [Name] always tells me about all the exciting things they've come across, whether it be delicious food from various planets, or even the most mundane things like the sound of the rushing water, the sight of fireflies in the night. They truly make everything worth remembering.

(BONUS: Black Swan’s Voiceline about [Name] !) About [Name]: Eye Of The Storm Ah, you speak of that Galaxy Ranger's companion…. The abyss that is her consciousness seems to only become calm in the face of them, akin to the eye of the storm. A shining light in the middle of nothingness—that is something that even she cannot let go of. No wonder Miss Acheron is quite taken with them.

Black Swan

About [Name]: The memories of Memokeepers are sorted into various categories by their importance. As my lover, my memories of them hold the greatest value of all. Such memories…. even if the Remembrance wishes for me to hand them over, I doubt I will ever allow it.

About [Name]: Dancing My proficiency in the act of dancing is all thanks to my continued practice with [Name] on our shared time together. Fufu, ‘dates,’ if you will. Every moment I spend in their arms, swaying to the beat of the music at every turn… those are the memories I wish to forever retain.

About Acheron: Indebted One time, Miss Acheron managed to get lost in the middle of the Reverie Hotel’s halls... as usual. [Name] came across her then, and proceeded to have a lovely chat with her. I owe her a debt for keeping my lover company as I was preoccupied with some matters the Garden of Recollection entrusted to me to relay to the family. Next time, perhaps I should invite her over for some dinner with [Name]....

end notes thanks for sticking around the part 2 (for the ogs who read pt 1) and do look forward to more HSR content in the future! also did i say i love aventurine

© 𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐈𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.

[chunksworld]

Swim

IZ*ONE Kim Minju x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut)

A/N: #BreedMinju. Thank you to Kaede for beta reading as always.

————————

You never imagined in your wet dreams, in all of the times you masturbated to her, or even that time you drunk texted her a picture of you shirtless after one too many drinks at the bar that the woman you met inside the elevator during your first day at the company some two odd years ago would be in your apartment watching some rom-com from the 90s that you are too inebriated to remember the title of. Your heart is pounding, partly because of the double serving of triple shot espresso you perhaps shouldn’t have drank this morning and partly because she looks devastatingly stunning in that white shirt that completely conceals whatever shorts she maybe wearing underneath which further accentuates those long legs of hers—

“I don’t remember the TV facing this direction, unless there’s something on my face?”

Shit.

Aside from her God-given physical features, it’s the way she can toy with your feelings and flirt with you so effortlessly that always leaves you wanting for more. Every single little interaction with her is an adventure on its own; the way she would wink at you every time you pass by her in the office, the way she would walk up to you to fix your tie while telling you how your perfume “smells like the oceanside on a summer day” —whatever the hell that means— or how she would always give you words of encouragement with that bright smile of hers during stressful days. 

It should mean something, has to mean something. Right? You can’t ask anyone for advice either, not when you’re the only two people born on this side of the century in your department. Your coworkers are either divorced or having a midlife crisis, and quite frankly, you might be having a quarter-life crisis if such a thing exists. You can’t stay professional any longer, and you are more than thankful that you’re not at the workplace right now because the thoughts swimming inside your head are absolutely not safe for work. And it’s all because of this fucking woman that’s laughing as if everything is sunshine and rainbows: Kim Minju. 

It doesn’t help that she’s the prettiest woman you know. even more so than the handful of girls you’ve hooked up with during college. Evidently, you are not the only one that shares that sentiment because you don’t miss the old way some of your older male coworkers would give her a certain, disgusting look that you wish to erase from your memories and you know she deserves better than them. She deserves someone like you, but you don’t exactly know if that feeling is reciprocated. But as to how far you can push your luck, you haven’t found out the answer to that yet—perhaps tonight is the night. 

“Are you still with me? Or did my goddess face lure you in too deep?” 

That now makes the two of you not paying attention to the movie—granted you’ve already seen it at least a dozen times during college when you were a hopeless romantic but who are you to turn down Minju when she specifically requested it? Plus, that’s not your concern at this very moment when she scoots ever so closely to you and the heat her skin radiates is enough to burn you. “Honestly, I don’t blame you if you have a crush on me. I sort of have that effect on guys.” There’s that fucking wink again, and the way she pouts her lips as if she is posing for a selfie. “I admire your resilience though, most guys would have me moaning their names on their bed already by this point.”

“Not funny, Minju.” It really isn’t, not when she’s mere inches away from you and if you were just a bit more drunk now those irresistible lips of hers would be meshed with yours now. You try to look away but you can’t, they captivate you to no end and you don’t even want to look away now—the sheen on those cherry red lips, the way they stand out against her milky white skin, the way she then bites her lower lips as to tempt you even further, the way sweat slowly drips down the side of her face and to her neck and you think they’d look good with your bite marks all over them.

Even if you look down, her succulent thighs and legs are all that will pervade your senses and you won’t be able to stop thinking about how you just want to rip whatever garments she’s wearing underneath and have her spread her legs while you eat her out like she’s your last meal on Earth. “You can’t just keep doing this for years and not expect me to make a move eventually.”

“Then what’s stopping you, hmm?” 

Minju somehow shifts even closer to you, her lips practically brushing against yours, her eyes staring deep into your soul, her hands resting on your thighs. She probes into you even deeper, much deeper than any other time and emergency sirens are popping up in your head. There have been many close encounters like this, way too many for your liking. 

The way she would wear pencil skirts on certain days and make it her mission to bend over in front of you as much as possible to show the unreal curvature of her ass—then proceeding to smirk as if she doesn’t know how much your cock wants to burst through your pants. The way she would purposely bump into you and pretend to fall so you can pull her into an inadvertent hug. 

Or when she would wear those dresses that hug her curves tightly during galas and she would give you a courtesy hug for a second longer than corporate policies would allow. Or when she kissed you during Christmas party last year and claimed that she had to do it because you two were “underneath a mistletoe.” 

It all has to end tonight, because God forbid you have to spend another night alone on your bed making a mess while you shoot ropes after ropes all over yourself thinking about her. It’s exhausting having to play these games with her when you’re 99% sure she is into you and you have to take action now before someone else does.

“Minju, I don’t think you’re ready for what I’m packing down there.” You test the waters even further, carefully studying her facial expressions while trying not to get lost in her eyes. It’s quite a difficult task when the alcohol is hitting you harder by the minute but when a sly grin appears across her face as if to challenge that statement, you know you have her right where you want her.

“Oh trust me, I know what you’re packing down there.” Minju glances downwards at your erection and your sweatpants are doing a poor job with how it’s about to poke through your pants. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be spending my Friday night here when I could be hanging out with Chaewon and Yujin.” It’s getting dangerous now, her hands traveling down your body and cupping your length through two layers of clothing.

And honestly you might as well be naked now with the way your cock reacts to her touch —your tip is leaking heavily and your breath starts to shorten. “So what’s it gonna be? You can’t tell me you have a different plan for how this night is going to end.” You can’t push back any further, you won’t push back. You take the first dip, lips pressed hungrily onto hers and she takes this opportunity to swing her legs over and straddle you on your couch—the movie in the background is long forgotten and all you care about right now is her.

You straighten yourself up and wrap your arms around her waist possessively; two years of pent up sexual frustration finally coming to an end and you make the most of it. Her lips are everything you’ve dreamed of; soft and sweet and succulent and you can’t help but think about how they slot in with yours perfectly as if you were meant to kiss her all this time. Your hands travel to her face to cup her cheeks, pushing her head deeper into yours and you notice her hands encircling around your back. 

You take a break to catch your bearings, staring deep again at her now lust-filled eyes and you get a front row seat to the facial expression you’ve been dying to see for forever now.  She moans into your mouth when one of your hands slides underneath her dress shirt to feel her smooth skin and the ridges of her abs which itself isn’t a surprise—what is surprising is the lack of bra when you travel further upwards and you come into contact with tits that you are sure is perky and round. “What a fucking slut, Minju. No bra?”

Your suspicions are confirmed when you practically rip the buttons off her shirt and throw it somewhere in your living room and your mouth waters at the sight of her breasts, they are definitely not the biggest you’ve seen but the way they sit on her perfectly shaped body with all of her curves and intricacies is more than enough to make up for it. “What’s the use of wearing one when I knew we were gonna end up like this anyways?” But before you could dive down to taste them you find your shirt being removed as well and the hunger in your eyes is mirrored by the way she’s staring down at your own pack of abs. 

“I mean if I had it my way I would’ve told you to be shirtless already with only your boxers on before I came over but you can’t have everything in life right?” She is as handsy as you, those delicate fingers mapping your chest and your stomach with every little touch as if to decipher where her lips would go later. But you absolutely cannot wait any longer, grabbing her hand and placing it on her sides while you devour her nipples. Taking her left breasts between your lips while massaging the right one and the whimper of your name that escapes her lips is downright sinful while you alternate between the two. 

You lick, slurp, and at times even get your teeth involved—just anything that can get her squirming and writhing on your lap is enough to fuel you. Even more so when she pushes your head deeper into her chest and she’s moaning “more please, fuck” in between whimpers.

Minju is one needy girl and that’s one fact that you find out quickly when she starts to grind on your hips and you can feel just how warm and wet her shorts are. You inadvertently bite on her nipples and she screams your name at the sensation. You utter a “sorry” in response but it doesn’t really matter when she gets off of you and you think you’ve absolutely screwed up. Fucking great. She stands up and you are about to give a more sincere and heartfelt apology but those thoughts are quickly washed away when she removes her shorts and then her panties.

“I want to see that cock. Now.”

You don’t waste a single moment before you proceed to do the same thing to your undergarments and the sight of her fully naked in front of you causes you to leak even more precum with your cock freely exposed to the air. Minju looks hot—which in itself might be an understatement with the way she’s fucking you with those wide eyes of hers, the way her nipples are glimmering under the lights of your living room thanks to your saliva, the way her abs contract with every breath she takes, the way those stocky thighs are slick with her essence. Forget those wet dreams because none of them could match witnessing the actual Kim Minju naked in real life in your apartment.

Minju squeals when you drag her back down towards you to make her straddle your lap again. No more games, no more foreplay, you slowly sink her down your cock and drink in her moans when she buries her face in your shoulder. She is suffocatingly tight, extremely wet but tight and you almost spill mere seconds after finally inserting your entire length inside her. You wince slightly as her manicured nails press into your shoulders and eventually your back. “Fucking—shit—If I only knew—” 

Your pace is slow and methodical, even though you want to just pound her into oblivion and have her screaming to the point your neighbors will complain the morning after. She is Minju after all and she deserves that respect, but as to how long you can control yourself you don’t know. For now, you are content to just have her in your arms and revel in this moment that you’d never thought would ever come. Just feeling how your cock molds perfectly inside her and how her small bunny hops gradually increase over time and her face becomes lost in pleasure is more than enough.

Especially when you feel every inch of her goddess-like body pressed against yours when she arches up to you; her thighs bouncing against yours, her abs grinding against yours, and those breasts pressed against your chest. “—so deep, fuck—harder!” It’s about time you take control and you do just that, you plant your feet to the ground and you grab handfuls of her asscheeks with each hand before thrusting up in time with her thrust and Minju’s gone completely delirious now. 

Gone are the coherent sentences as they are now replaced by expletive-filled chants of pleasure. She’s damn near crying on your cock, tears welling up in her eyes due to pleasure and so you pull her face away to get a glimpse of her sweat-misted face and how her eyes are unfocused. You don’t know what came over you but you feel your heart skip a beat seeing such surreal beauty up close and personal so you pull her in for another makeout session, continuing your long and hard thrusts while your tongue ravages her mouth much like your cock does with her pussy.

“Fucking hell, we should’ve done this sooner.” Another kiss on her lips, then another lick of her nipples—make that two licks, no in fact, you devour them once more. It’s becoming clearer that they’re starting to become your favorite part of her body and it’s completely justified. “ I can’t believe I had to jack off to your pictures when you were just one call away.” The woman in question doesn’t respond but she blushes, the raw honesty of your words is enough to reveal that shy and demure side of her again despite the situation you two are currently in. 

Minju just brushes her hair aside in response while looking away, taking the initiative to bounce on your cock and you let her take over once again. “W-Well I’m here now—“ A particularly hard thrust deep into a certain spot inside her has her clenching around your cock much tighter than usual, you take mental note of this “—I hope I’m as good as advertised.” Of course she is and even better than whatever scenario you were cooking up inside your head, but instead of showing it through words you just smile at her and hope that it’s enough to show your admiration and you let your body do the talking.

You’re noticing how tired she’s becoming being on top so you don’t waste any more time and pick up the pace while still letting her guide the way. It’s silence between the two of you aside from the sounds of passionate lovemaking and that is just enough to push you two closer to the edge. You feel her clench tighter around you again and likewise you can feel your balls throbbing in anticipation too. It’s been a stressful week at work and there’s no better place to unload than inside her welcoming pussy. You’re just as close to her as reaching your orgasm and it’s becoming extremely difficult not to do anything but to burst inside hers. 

Forget the lovemaking, you lift her up by her asscheeks and stand up from the couch and you immediately feel her limbs coil around your body as she gasps at the sensation of being fully seated by your cock. You start to thrust up again, this time more relentlessly without the restrictions of the couch and she’s leaking even more now and you can actually feel her juices stream down your cock and you know she’s extremely close. “D-Don’t stop, please. Don’t you ever fucking stop!” She’s bouncing much higher than before, almost completely unsheathing your length before she crashes back down on it again and now she’s actually crying in pleasure. 

“Hnnghhh! Fuck! I can’t, I can’t—” There was certainly no way she was going to last any longer. “—G-Gonna cum on your cock!” And a few more of those wild thrusts is all it takes to set her off, going limp and forcing you to grab hold of her even tighter so she doesn’t slip off—a task given difficult given how much sweat is emanating both of your bodies but you don’t care especially when all of those juices causes you to slip out of her for a minute and you don’t care about the mess you two are making on the floor at this very moment when you’re about to follow her with your own orgasm. 

“Such a fucking good girl for me, Minju.” You slide back inside her, this time it’s easier thanks to the lubrication she provided and you can’t help but grit your teeth and close your eyes. It’s too much, all of this. What transpired tonight and what it means for your future. It’s all too much to handle and you can’t hold it any longer. You’re about to give her the biggest load you’ve ever given anyone.  “You deserve all of this, I’ve wanted you so fucking bad.“ All she can do is nod as she is still sensitive from her own orgasm but with the way she’s wrapping her arms around you tighter she wants it as badly as you do. “Gonna fucking cum inside.”

“Please! I want your hot—hnggh—I want your cum. Please. When a beautiful woman like her gives you such a permission you don’t waste it, you hold her tight as you begin to pump ropes after ropes of cum in her pussy with every deep thrust. You don’t want to stop cumming, can’t stop cumming—your legs going weak and forcing you to sit down on the couch while you continue to unload deep inside Minju. It feels fucking euphoric, feeling your load drip back down to your cock and balls as that seemed to drain the soul out of you. 

You’ve been holding back from the moment you first saw her all those years ago and there’s no better feeling than this, not even a promotion could rival how addicting having sex with her feels and you want more. You want to continue diving into the ocean that is Kim Minju even if it means drowning, nothing else matters but her.

As if to try to coax more cum out of you, Minju continues to grind her hips while kissing you. This time it’s much more slow and gentle while you lay her on the couch and hover on top of her. It’s beautiful how her hair, though disheveled, cascades down her shoulders and fans out on the cushion below. 

Her limbs are still wrapped tight around you, your softening cock starting to harden while you begin to fuck her once more—you’re making a mess of the couch with how you’re fucking your cam back into her but it doesn’t matter when she’s going to be filled again. “You still have enough cum for me? I’m surprised.” 

You place kisses on her neck this time, making sure to leave marks dark enough that no amount of foundation can conceal it once Monday comes around. Surprisingly she doesn’t protest, perhaps she does want everyone to find out about you two. “Guess I didn’t do a good job of draining you, huh?” You respond by fucking her harder into the couch, feeling the furniture creak and move with every thrust and you render her speechless once again. 

Lean down to capture those bouncing tits in your mouth and continue to work her to another orgasm which wasn’t difficult to accomplish considering how sensitive she still is. It didn’t take long to set you off either and you unload whatever remaining load you have, which is still plenty considering you almost passed out with how much you left inside her just ten minutes ago.

She urges you to sit up on the couch again and she gets off of it to kneel down in front of you before then taking your flaccid cock in her mouth to clean you off. The sight is pornographic, the way she shows off your combined juices on her tongue before making a show of swallowing it all. “Hmm, we taste good together. I don’t mind having some more of that.”

Minju gets off her knees to sit down right beside you and the way her naked body glistens under the natural light outside your apartment is an unparalleled sight that has your heart swooning and doing backflips. “Well, I’m free this entire weekend.” And perhaps shooting your shot when all of this has already happened is quite a ridiculous predicament to be in but you don’t want to be selfish after all. Surely a girl like her has plenty of suitors you’re not aware of and you don’t want to tie her down especially when nothing is official yet.

“I guess I could be convinced.”

Those ten seconds of silence felt like an eternity. But it was all worth it the moment she gives you that smile that makes your heart race even faster. And despite kissing her for what seems like a million times already, this one has special weight. As if to tell the world that the most beautiful woman you have ever known and perhaps will ever know is now yours and there’s nothing that could change that. Screw all of those disgusting old men with their mid-life crisis because your quarter-life crisis just ended in the most satisfying way possible.

You’re embarrassed by the way you whine the moment you don’t feel her lips on yours anymore but you are quickly consoled the moment she stands up and turns around to flaunt that perfectly shaped ass of hers. Suddenly, blood rushes to your cock again as if you didn’t cum twice already. 

“Come on, take me to your bedroom.” Minju eyes you like a piece of meat once again when she pulls you up to your feet. 

“There’s one more hole you forgot to fill.”

[wannaeatramyeon]

Meeting Yamazaki Shingen for the First Time: Sleepless Nights

G/N. 1.7k strangers to~. Soft. Arranged marriage trope. Masterlists

Disappointing, you've heard people say about you. Disobedient.

Troublemaker, should be seen and not heard, your mother chides you while your father just looks on with resentment, as if he couldn't believe they could have created such an insolent child.

In exchange for being the black sheep of your family, you're offered, kicking and screaming, to Yamazaki Shingen. Trading your life and freedom to elevate your family's name and standing.

If you can't be a filial offspring and make your parents proud, the least you can be is useful.

To everyone's surprise, the Yamazaki clan accepts.

.

.

With relief, you realise there isn't going to be a wedding night.

This isn’t a marriage. You're only one of many. No-one has been deemed worthy enough to sit by Shingen's side as the head of the family. This doesn't bother you.

Nor the fact that you have not seen the man you have been allegedly sold off to and you quietly count your blessings.

Instead, you're treated as an extra pair of hands, almost a servant. Spending your days helping out around the household with any chores and errands as they see fit. It's hard, gruelling work.

You collapse every night in your futon out of exhaustion and sleep takes no time at all.

It's still a better life than you had before.

.

.

Though the routine might be growing familiar, it's still a stranger's home and a strange room and a strange futon that you're lying on.

Tonight, the strangeness of your situation overwhelms.

You miss your old room, the softness of your old pillow on your skin, the smell of your own belongings.

Tonight, sleep is nowhere to be found.

.

.

You're greeted by a silhouette sitting in the courtyard.

Outlined by the moonlight, size more monster than human. Although in any other circumstances you might feel fear, this is the Yamazaki home, you think. No-one, not even monsters, would dare trespass.

You find your own space to sit in. You wonder if he even knows you're here or if this is two strangers letting the silence grow comfortable between them.

"Who are you?" comes his voice, and the peace breaks. It's low, almost a growl.

It takes you a moment to realise you didn't dream it and you tell him your name.

"I can't sleep." you add and you hear a sharp exhale of amusement.

He doesn't volunteer any information about himself and you don't ask.

Nevertheless, it's a kindred spirit, you decide. Someone else suffering from sleep evading them.

He continues to sit, still as a rock, and you join him. Breath deepening and eyelids growing heavier by the second. Your head drops forward, jolting you awake and you take your leave.

.

.

In the morning and for several weeks after, you're not sure if the man had been conjured up by your imagination.

If in your sleep-induced haze, your mind created someone you could relate to, no matter how trivial the bond.

You search but don't see anyone in the Yamazaki family that could look like him.

You almost mistake Shintaro for him, the Vice President who has been courteous if a little cold, except in your blurred memories you think the stranger has wild long hair.

.

.

Over time, you forget about him. Someone that could either be a figment of your imagination or as real as the floor you’re currently scrubbing.

You let your daily tasks wash over you. Following instructions without argument and keeping to yourself.

Your hands grow calloused and energy drains.

A state of overtiredness finally overwhelms you.

Where you can feel the fatigue deep in your bones, your body hovering in a state between conscious and unconscious, moving in a haze, yet your mind is alive and wired and sleep won't take no matter how much you toss and turn.

.

.

He’s there again.

But as the days grow, the nights are no longer as dark as it was and you can make out more of his features.

Your brain didn’t deceive you. His form is as large as you remembered, maybe larger. A good few heads taller than you and powerfully muscled. Hair long, like a sheet of darkness past his shoulders. 

“Evening,” you say as a way of greeting, your voice carrying in the quiet night breeze. His head snaps to yours, though you can’t make out his face.

You feel his gaze on you as you sit, folding your legs under you.

You close your eyes, enjoying the silence. Feeling the warm air on your skin and caressing your hair. No longer as frigid or cool as it was when you first stepped foot into the Yamazaki clan.

“Another sleepless night,” he says. You don’t know whether it’s a question for you or a confession of sorts for him.

In the end, you echo him, agreeing with the sentiment. “Another sleepless night.”

.

.

Curiosity keeps you awake rather than exhaustion or anxiety or insomnia the next night, wondering if the man is still there sitting like a lonely statue.

Your mind leads you fully this time. 

At dusk, you carefully slide the door behind you as your feet pad onto the soft grass, brain and body awake.

He’s there. In the same spot, in the same position.

It’s even lighter tonight, and you can see his features. His black eyes, the startling white irises, the emptiness in his gaze.

You do as you have done before, sitting down a few metres away. 

“Why are you here?” he asks, tone inquisitive. Your footsteps and movement have given you away. You’re much more alert, less sluggish, no longer moving as if in a dream state and he has noticed.

“I wondered if you were here every night.” You tell him, opting for honesty.

The silence stretches as you wait for his answer. Eventually you hear-

“Yes.”

.

.

The twilight meetings become routine. Only a handful of words are exchanged on a given night, if any at all.

Yet you have come to think of him as the guardian of your slumber. Some nights you drift off as soon as your head hits your pillow, and when morning comes, you feel a pang of guilt for not joining your companion.

He never comments on it, though you think his eyes are a little warmer whenever he sees you again.

.

.

At the change of seasons, when the day grows hot and sticky, you are summoned to Yamazaki Shingen’s quarters.

You had allowed yourself to forget that you are only in this household to be used for breeding potential, no better than livestock. 

Disregarded that the dowry the Yamazaki clan paid for you was too high a price for a simple servant and became so accustomed to your daily chores, pretended this day would never come.

At sundown, the head housekeeper, a crotchety old woman guides you to your doom.

You would have considered escaping if she wasn’t flanked by bodyguards, two men with matching severe expressions. You would have considered asking for help if your only companion, the person you have sort of befriended, was nowhere to be found in the courtyard.

“Master Shingen has been dissatisfied. He hasn’t been with anyone in months,” the housekeeper says, subdued and not breaking pace. She gives you a look as if that is your problem to solve. “The elders are getting worried.”

Good, you want to snap back. Let them be worried. Let this stupid clan die off.

Just as you’re about to say something you would no doubt regret, she stops abruptly in front of an oversized door. You almost careen into the back of her but the bodyguard’s hands shoot out and steady you.

“I’m fine,” you hiss, shoving their hands off you.

“Now in you go,” she rolls her eyes at your outburst, opening the door and pushing you in with her talons, “And do behave.”

.

.

Shit shit shit.

The room is almost pitch black, only illuminated by a sliver of moonlight through the windows.

Adrenaline courses through your body and you desperately will your eyes to adjust to the darkness, even as they dart around fruitlessly, looking for a weapon, for anything-

When you sense another presence in the room with you and you stop moving.

“What are you doing?” comes his voice.

Your breath hitches. 

It’s one that you have only heard sparingly but have nevertheless looked forward to hearing again. A figure you have sought out night after night.

“Is-Is that you?” 

A chuckle from the shadows. “Yes.”

Could this really be him? “Y-Yamazaki Shingen?” You stammer, a literal shot in the dark. 

“Yes,” he replies and you feel your legs almost buckle out beneath you. “Come closer.”

Incredulous at this twist of fate, you carefully make your way towards the centre of the room. Your eyes, at long last, are able to pick out the silhouette sitting on the bed, and that there is a bed. 

Does he expect... Does he want you to-?

“No,” he cuts in like he’s able to read your thoughts. “I want your company. Like you did mine.”

His white irises are practically glowing, boring into you.

“Another sleepless night?” you ask tentatively. Groping for an olive branch, for that connection.

“Another sleepless night,” Shingen agrees, and everything finally falls into place.

.

.

Like all those nights before, Shingen is a man of few words. He observes you as you try to find comfort in his space, in a room completely unfamiliar to you.

He finds a strange companionship, ease in your presence. You don’t ask for anything from him, and in return, he doesn’t ask for anything from you.

Except, well - this.

And only this. He has no intentions of forcing what you do not want to give.

As you lay your head down next to his, a small smile of relief on your face that things have surprisingly worked out, Shingen, to his own surprise finds that he’s smiling back.

For the first time in a long time, he falls asleep in his own bed. 

He falls asleep easily tonight and every night thereafter - to the sound of your breathing, and the warmth of your body next to his.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Father’s Friend! Simon “Ghost” Riley Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Implied Smut, Age Gap Relationship, Forbidden Relationship, Older Man/Younger Reader, Protective! Simon, Slightly Creepy! Simon, Petnames, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

Simon was more gentle with you than he’d ever been with anyone, especially now as he lay on top of you, pushing into you slowly, carefully.

He knew what you were doing was wrong – the looks, the gifts, the sneaking around behind everyone’s backs – but he’d already betrayed too many of his instincts – allowed you to break down too many of his walls – to care now.

Simon had fucked before, but he’d never made love to anyone. You were his first, in that sense.

“That’s it,” he rasped, releasing a guttural moan as he finally managed to slip into you fully. He felt himself twitch. Felt you heaving laboured breaths as he lay heavy inside you. He rested his forehead against yours, skin slick with sweat, pressing a languid kiss to your lips, trailing down, along your jaw, down to the sensitive area just beneath your earlobe. Your pulse point.

“Doin’ so well for me, Love,” he told you. And from the veins bulging beneath his skin, his scars and tattoos underlined by a constellation of capillaries and a cacophony of life, you knew he was telling the truth.

Simon can remember every single point that led to this. At first, it was your meeting. Fated, it seemed. Especially now as the two of you lay with your legs tangled together, fingers interlocked and bodies all but conjoined. 

For a man who’s always struggled with eye contact, this is the only time he’s ever enjoyed it. Peering into you, your eyes.

Simon knows you love him. Though, he doesn’t quite believe it given how he perceives you to be out of his league.

And, despite your assurances, Simon tends to get a bit…jealous.

Self-conscious.

He’s aware of the fact that the age gap between the two of you is wide enough to let some doubts slip in; doubts that, in your young age, you’ve made a horrible decision pursuing a man as grizzled as Simon.

But he never takes his insecurities out on you. Not outside the bedroom, at least.

If you’re going out with someone Simon views as competition, he has a tendency to leave you ‘something to remember him by’ — namely his cum rolling down your thighs and dripping into your underwear.

He loves watching you try to greet people normally, knowing that you were getting raw dogged just ten minutes before, the aftermath seeping into the fabric of your underwear, making you shift in your seat, trying to find a position where you’re not pressed against the sopping-wet fabric.

Simon wonders if, during those times, you think of him. The same way he thinks of you as his mind wanders and his hand slips across the waistband of his jeans, palming himself at the memory of your whimpering, the tears in your eyes as you tell him how good he’s making you feel.

His possessiveness gets the better of him sometimes, hence he sends you into the world with some part of you filled with his semen.

During these moments, his jealousy manifests in his roughness with you — in his need to make you feel things no other man can.

Other times, he’s gentle. Endearingly so. And those are the times you know he needs reassurance the most.

Card your hands through his hair, call him yours, tell him how much you love him. He’ll be the one moaning and whimpering into the crook of your neck, I guarantee it.

Given the nature of your relationship, Simon is not one to take risks.

Unlike Price, he won’t slip his hand up your thigh and tease you in public.

He won’t sit next to you of his own free will when you’re out with your father, and he won’t be nearly as talkative with you as when you’re alone together (which, given he’s Simon Riley, isn’t much to begin with, but there’s a difference only you can tell).

But you’ll feel his eyes on you, see the look of longing, of hesitant love — first love — lie within them.

To others, it’s a death stare. To you, it’s the closest thing to an ‘I love you’ you can get under such surveillance.

If anyone — especially your father — started getting suspicious of the nature of your relationship – your affair – Simon would act as if it’s business as usual. Pretend as if nothing’s wrong.

If the two of you suddenly change your behaviour, it’ll look even more suspicious – that’s what he tells you. But, of course, he doesn’t invite you over to his house as much; doesn’t placate your desire to go shopping by driving you into town. The most he’ll do is offer you his jacket when you’re cold – a bare bones gesture of goodwill and nothing more.

He longs for you in ways you can’t even fathom during your away-time, in ways he could never verbalise. But trust that, when you’re able to again, Simon won’t be letting you leave his house. Or the bedroom, for that matter.

You can expect him to be a lot more open and receptive to physical affection after that – in private, of course. 

Kisses to the crown of your head, longingly staring down at you as you lay against his side, holding your hand at every convenience, etc.

Simon is the BEST gift giver you could ask for. He spoils you silly, buying you anything your heart desires, be it clothes, jewellery, food; the world is yours when you’re with him.

He isn’t unwise with his purchases, however.

He’s observant, has a keen eye. He’ll see things you like before you do, and he’ll buy you things he knows you’ll love before you even have the chance to tell him.

Your bedroom is going to be near-bursting with all the things Simon’s bought you. But telling your father that you bought them all off the internet with your new job money (a job you had to fabricate to account for the many hours a day you’d disappear off with Simon and the sudden influx of cash coming your way).

It took a LONG time for Simon to start liking you. To start loving you.

The close proximity of his house to yours made your paths cross more times than he could count, leading to a daily conversation of some nature. ‘How are you?’ and ‘What are you up to?’ eventually turned into ‘Hey, can I ask you a question?’ — for you often asked Simon’s advice about issues you didn’t want to discuss with your father; a bold show of trust, Simon thought — and ‘Are you doing anything later today?’

The first time you’d interacted with your father’s mysterious friend beyond a superficial capacity had been when you’d helped him paint his fence (which, you noticed, he’d started sprucing up after you’d suggested it to him a few weeks prior). Sure, you thought he was attractive, a nice, albeit very quiet, personality, and decided to lend him a hand on your way back from a walk one morning.

You stayed there the whole day, talking to Simon throughout.

It felt like this was the first time you’d actually met him. The first time you’d managed to get more than three words out of him.

Sure, most of his answers were stunted, but you could tell they were truthful. And yet, you also knew he was hiding something. Many things, in fact. Things you didn’t push for, instead opting to tell Simon about yourself, relinquishing details about your life, your hobbies – anything to make you appear more like a person and less like a nuisance.

He painted, too. Though, he’d often find himself distracted by the sight of you in your shorts, bent in a way that, to a man as pent-up and lonely as Simon, could be seen as provocative.

He felt icky. Like a creepy old man spying on his younger neighbour.

He did try to distance himself after that, uncomfortable with the thoughts that ran through his head for the entirety of your time together.

Unfortunately for him, however, you were persistent. Hadn’t seen the hungry glow in his eyes whenever you wore something slightly revealing.

He felt like lecturing you, telling you to cover up — to not flaunt yourself so readily. Didn’t you know lecherous men (him) lurked around every corner ?

Another part of him felt like enabling you. Wanted to see as much of you as you’d let him. You were the first pretty thing to wander into Simon’s sights in a long time – one that hadn’t fled or disappeared at his behest.

One day, you’d dressed yourself in a flimsy little shirt and shorts and the weather had taken a turn for the worse. You and Simon had rushed back to his house, the shelter closest to you. There, seeing you soaking, your shirt sticking to your body, Simon did the gentlemanly thing and offered you a hoodie of his to keep warm in.

He’d never given someone his hoodie before. Not in this capacity, at least (Johnny didn’t count because Sergeant MacTavish had actually stolen Simon’s hoodie and worn it without asking.)

The sight of you drowning in the fabric made the breath in Simon’s throat catch.

In that second, you weren’t the byproduct of his best friend. You were small, defenceless, and indebted to him.

Simon hadn’t been able to see you the same way since.

No longer did he take pleasure in watching you bend over for one thing or another. Now, he looked for opportunities to care for you.

Subtle shows of his growing fondness for you. His need to take care of you.

And…well, you know the story from here ;-).

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[mypoisonedvine]

100 random dialogue prompts

truly random, there's a mix of angsty and smutty and fluffy in here. as a result it's nsfw and 18+ :)

"who did this to you?"

"where are you going dressed like that?"

"this isn't enough anymore. I need more of you-- all of you."

"I'm not angry, I just get tired of watching you get hurt."

"don't say stuff like that, it gets me all... confused."

"just lie to me, okay? just this once."

"I never said I didn't feel the same way."

"you should go... before someone sees."

"I hate how you make it impossible to hate you."

"too good for you? don't be ridiculous-- they don't deserve you."

"fuck, do that again... please."

"you promise you're going to behave this time?"

"oh please, you knew what you were doing... you wanted to drive me crazy."

"no, it's not over. it's never over."

"so you're saying even if we were the last people on Earth--?" "nope."

"sooo... is everything supposed to just go back to normal after that?"

"you can't ignore me. not anymore."

"it's not what it looks like!" "is that a picture of me?!"

"you really didn't notice that I was falling in love with you?"

"is this really the last time?"

"I'm sorry, I swear I tried, but I just can't get over you."

"do you really think that toy can replace me?"

"don't tell me how to feel."

"forgive me, but I'm not feeling very patient right now."

"you could do so much better than me."

"what would they think if they saw you right now?"

"I didn't know you could be so obedient."

"you can take it."

"you were never my fallback-- I always wanted you."

"yeah, I want to, but... wouldn't it be weird?"

"don't act like you never thought about it before."

"I wish they could all know about us."

"you're the best mistake I ever made."

"no, I don't hate you... I'm angry, but I don't think I could ever really hate you."

"let's just stop now before anybody's feelings get hurt."

"don't get my hopes up if you're just gonna leave like everyone else."

"I can't let it end like this."

"if you do what you're told, you'll get a reward."

"what's gotten into you? you're being so... naughty."

"I think we're on a first name basis by now."

"don't do that... don't act like you don't feel this too."

"it was never just sex."

"I wish I'd met you sooner."

"you can tell me anything."

"why do we have to get out of bed again?"

"I think this is my favorite way to wake up."

"I was already yours."

"there's no way that was just a one-night thing."

"if you can look me in the eye and tell me you want me to go, I'll go."

"has anybody else ever made you feel like this?"

"it feels like we were made for each other."

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry, and I miss you."

"I have an idea to make them jealous."

"just one more kiss?"

"do you really expect me to believe this is what you want?"

"if you say you're happy with them, I'll believe you. or at least I'll try to."

"I can think of a more fun way you can thank me."

"no, I'm in charge tonight, remember?"

"if you keep doing that, this might end a little too soon."

"hey, you lost the bet, fair and square."

"stop imagining it!" "I'm sorry, but I can't get it out of my head!"

"it's too bad we never did. we would've been great together."

"I never thought I'd hear you talk like that."

"oh, fuck me--" "okay." "what? it's just a figure of speech..."

"were you joking? I wasn't joking."

"admit it: you had a crush on me!"

"I just need you to hold me right now."

"friends can cuddle, right?"

"I wouldn't have picked this for movie night if I'd known it had so many sex scenes..."

"they're great but... they're not you."

"I always thought it would be me and you in the end."

"you're not actually trying to convince me that was a friendly kiss, are you?"

"if you hate me so much, how come you keep coming back?"

"do you remember getting drunk and calling me last night?"

"I'm free tonight if you still need a date for that thing you're going to."

"I'd do anything for you."

"I think I finally get what all those love songs are about."

"it's weird being here again... so many memories."

"I wish you'd give me a chance."

"I never meant to hurt you."

"just come to dinner with me. it doesn't have to be weird."

"seeing you with them made me realize you should be with me."

"just ask yourself for once: what do you want?"

"okay, okay, I'll leave-- as soon as I can find my pants."

"we need to be more careful next time."

"wait, why are you in my bed? did we...?"

"I took you for granted, I know. but I want to treat you right this time."

"kiss me like you mean it."

"keep the lights on, I want to see you."

"is it just me, or does your celebrity crush look a lot like me?"

"we promised we wouldn't let this affect our friendship."

"no, don't cry-- if you start crying, I'll start crying!"

"I want to see my marks on you tomorrow."

"don't act innocent, it's not going to work with me."

"is this really turning you on? I'm not even doing anything."

"come look at the stars with me."

"I lov--" "no, don't say anything. you'll kill the moment."

"what happens next in your fantasy?"

"I probably shouldn't tell you this but... you were in my dream last night."

"why do you still wear the hoodie I left at your place?"

[tiredfox64]

Hello! How you doing? I hope you're having a great day :D

I have a small request based on a funny picture I saw on twitter, where reader asks their crush/lover "Do you like sleeping?" and they're like "...yes?" then reader says "Wow, me too... We should try it together sometime"

I just can't choose which mk1 character, since I love all of them lmao. So I'll leave that up to you! Can be with anyone, sfw or not! your pick :p

Nap Time?

Yip notes: Hello! I’m doing alright, hope you are doing lovely （＾∇＾). This seems like such a fun idea. And you are letting me pick! Got me squealing.

Pairings: Tomas, Havik, Rain, Reiko x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️:NSFW, choking, biting, overstimulation (a bit), many positions

Tomas

Why would you ever trust Johnny to give you good advice? Trusting Johnny is a gamble, especially when you ask him for dating advice.

You were unsure of how to flirt with someone so you had to ask Johnny for help. And the help he gave you…was in the form of memes from Instagram and Twitter. He swore to you up and down that this would work on Tomas. You believed him, just like that?

So you tried it out. It might kill you to try to flirt but at least you made an effort to do so. You were a little nervous as you approached Tomas who was supervising the initiates. Immediately when he saw you he broke out into a smile. Your heart was going crazy from just looking at him. You didn’t realize the loving look in his eyes every time he stared at you. You two had a casual conversation for a bit, just the usual. You took a deep breath and tried remembering which pickup line you would use on Tomas. Something that will capture his attention but won’t be too forward.

“So…uh…do you like sleeping?” you asked.

He looked at you, his eyebrow cocked up in confusion, “…yes?”

“Wow, me too…we should try it together sometime.”

That was too forward girl! I thought you would be better than me.

You put your head down in shame before quickly walking off. A walk of shame if you will. That meant however that you missed Tomas’ reaction to your flirting. It was super effective! He knew what you meant because Johnny told him before. Thanks, Johnny. He went from his usual pale self to a shade of pink that only a rose could replicate. You’re just gonna leave him like that? All flustered like you didn’t just ask him to sleep with you. He didn’t know you felt that way about him.

You left him in an uncomfortable position. He couldn’t go find you because he had to supervise the initiates. But he was also trying to keep his composure and not think too much about being in bed with you. He can’t think about how his hands would be all over you, feeling your soft skin as his body is pressed against yours. Ah, too late he’s hard just from that. Pathetic. Better hide that.

The moment the initiates were done training he went looking for you. You were in your room, groaning into your pillows from the embarrassment you still were feeling. You thought this memory would haunt you forever. Oh how wrong you were.

Tomas was knocking on your door, still trying his best to keep his composure. You got up and opened the door. Before you could try to apologize for what you said he asked you something.

“Were you being serious? Please tell me you were being serious.” He said in desperation.

You were shocked. The pickup line worked? And he wanted you to be serious? Alright, ain’t you a winner.

You nodded your head and that’s all Tomas needed. He pushed his way into your room and only then did you notice his boner. It’s really hard to hide it with the uniform he has on. Well, go on, fix it. You started the war you better finish it. Get in bed! Scratch that, he will carry you to bed.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Your groans of embarrassment soon became groans of pleasure. And pants. And moans. And whimpers. Everything actually.

The pickup line sure did work. It got Tomas into bed with you, naked and desperate to pleasure himself with your body. You heard him groan and whimper every time he thrusted into you. He had you on your side with his chest pressed against your back and his hand on your thigh. He held your right leg up to have easier access to your pussy. His other arm was wrapped around your neck. He wasn’t choking you but holding you in place. He could choke you if that’s what you want.

You had no idea how long you guys were at it. It was like one second he was carrying you to your bed, the next he was ripping your clothes off, and now he had his dick inside of you. The dick must be good considering you were drooling in seconds and could only focus on how much he was stretching you out.

Don’t count yourself short because Tomas is just as dazed as you. Your pussy was as warm and tight as he imagined. When he first slid his cock in he let out a satisfied sigh, like he was relieved to feel your pussy squeezing him. The passion he was putting into each thrust was phenomenal. It’s like he was trying to fuck his love into you. That love sure was hitting your g-spot and making your moans go up a pitch. Soon your leg was shaking and you were telling him not to stop. He wasn’t planning on it. Tomas was as close as you were.

That pleasure was becoming greater and you both couldn’t handle it. One more deep thrust into you and you both were finished. You heard Tomas let out whimpers and moans as he came inside you. He was still thrusting a little which pushed the cum further into you. You would have been moaning as well if it weren’t for the fact that Tomas started choking you with his arm. You were not complaining. The lack of oxygen with your orgasm was the best feeling you have ever had. You could have sworn that the heavens opened and you were looking at the angels who looked down at you and asked ‘Is he gonna put a ring on it?’ Tomas better put a ring on it because you don’t ever want him leaving your side. Neither does he.

Tomas finally let you breathe once he realized he was choking you which you thanked him for doing. Like the gentleman he is he checked and asked if he hurt you anywhere. You told him to not worry and that you were fine. Once that was over he pulled you close to him and gave you kisses all over your face. He could stay here for hours with you so he could cuddle and kiss you. That lovemaking session sure did a number on you guys. It tired you out that you were soon falling asleep in his arms.

Looks like you slept with Tomas in both ways.

Havik

You’re trying to flirt with Havik? Right…how well do you think that will go for you?

Havik is not an idiot but some things go flying over his head. Using unfamiliar terms might not hit the mark. You have to be blunt essentially. But it’s hard to be blunt about wanting Havik to be your partner and asking to have sex with him. Whoever could do that is a maniac or just extremely bold. That’s not you. So the best you could do is flirt and hope it hits the mark.

You approached him as he was in the middle of looking at weapons. That mace is looking really nice to him. Whatever, you’re there now and you seem to be asking for his attention. Not literally, you were actually staring up at him until he noticed your presence.

“What?” He asked.

“I have a question for you.” You replied in a shy tone.

He fully turned his attention towards you, curious as to what you had to say considering you never got this shy before.

“So…uh…do you like sleeping?”

“…yes, why do you ask?” Don’t fuck with him. Havik has no clue what you are getting at.

“Wow, me too…we should try it together sometime.”

There was a silence that followed. A long, uncomfortable silence followed as he stared at you. His head tilted to the side a little to indicate his confusion. This might have been a failure on your part. What were you thinking? You turned around to walk away only to be grabbed by the back of your shirt by Havik. He pulled you back and held you up by your shirt. You can’t walk away after saying something so confusing to him.

“What does that even mean?” Havik interrogated you.

You didn’t want to answer him. This situation was already incredibly embarrassing for you and it doesn’t help that he wanted you to explain it to him. You begged him to forget what you said and put you down already. Havik was not gonna listen, even you knew that. He wouldn’t let you down until you told him what you meant. In a moment of chaos and stress you blurted out the truth.

“I want to have sex with you!”

I mean I would have lied but good on you for being truthful.

There was silence once more. You watched as Havik squinted his eyes. You were unsure of what he was doing until you heard him let out a dark chuckle. If his face weren’t mutilated you would be able to see that he was smiling. But since he has a permanent smile on his face it probably works out.

“Why didn’t you say so? We could do that right now.” He said with pure delight. Get to it!

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You knew Havik was a freak but you didn’t expect him to be this freaky. Who would have thought that the first position he would pick to do you in was the mating press.

Eight inches slamming into you, damn! Of course, he was going rough. He pushed your legs back as far as they could go so he could go as deep as he could. You were already crying and panting in the first few minutes. He made sure you kept looking up at him. He wanted to see every expression you made and watch every tear slip down your face. Watching your eyes roll back every time he slammed into your g-spot made him want to devour you even more.

Havik was beyond reason. His mind was only on one thing and that was fucking your pussy. You had to stay exactly how he wanted to. Every time you tried to look away from him he grabbed your face and forced you to look at him again. He wouldn’t let go until he got a nice reaction out of you.

“Aww, what a pretty face. I wonder what face you will make when I do this?”

You felt his hand wrap around your throat. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. The excitement in his eyes was apparent. He squeezed tighter and went rougher. With the position you were in combined with everything else he was doing; it was no shock that you ended up cumming. Strained moans left your mouth as your eyes rolled back. Drool and tears were slipping down your face. Your hands could not take Havik’s hand away from your throat. You were forced to cum on his cock as he choked the life out of you. Sounds started to grow duller but the orgasm you felt was heightened. Every stroke was felt, his dick was hitting every spot down there. You could not ignore the painful pleasure you felt. And when it seemed like you were about to pass out, he let go.

You were trying to catch your breath but it was difficult since he was still fucking you. You were catching your breath in between moans and pants that were hoarse from being choked. Luckily for you, he was close. One, two, three more thrusts and he was golden. He slammed so hard and deep inside you that you could have sworn that he hit your cervix. Havik let out this loud groan that seemed to drag out. His tongue stuck out, causing some of his saliva to drip down onto you. Oh, he was satisfied alright.

Once his little moment of nature’s pleasure was over he pulled out and immediately collapsed onto you. He wrapped his arms around your waist. Tonight, you will be his pillow. You have no choice he is too big to move. Plus he wants to stay in this position with you. You are his girlfriend now. You both had sex that’s how it goes, at least in his head that’s how it works. You heard him lightly snore away. You were happy with the outcome of your pickup line. It worked incredibly well. You slowly started to fall asleep as you held Havik in your arms.

Be careful he drools in his sleep. Wait, never mind, he’s chewing on your titty in his sleep. That’s a bigger issue. At least he does it lightly.

Rain

Ah, going after the high mage himself. It’s an interesting choice to pick a man who might have never felt the touch of a woman other than his mother.

If only you had his confidence you could be better when it comes to flirting with him. Hiding behind a pillar and watching him do magic does not count as flirting. You can talk to Rain but if you try to suggest something or flirt you freeze up. He’ll ask you if you’re alright, you’ll lie and say you’re fine before walking off, and the cycle repeats.

But maybe this time will be different. When the tournament was going on you heard in the background one of the Earthrealmers, probably Johnny, using a certain pickup line on Kitana. It seemed to work since it got a laugh out of her. So it has to work for you, right? You could only hope that this man will get it.

The next time you saw him you ran up to him with a smile on your face. Rain was delighted to see you again. You always manage to make him feel warm on the inside. You get him thinking about you instead of his studies or his duties. You’ll most likely do the same right now. The conversation is going well and you’ve made him smile. Go in for the kill!

“So…uh…do you like sleeping?” you asked awkwardly.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “…yes? I would imagine everyone does.”

“Wow, me too…we should try it together sometime.”

The silence was loud.

“You have your own bed, why would you need to sleep together?”

For a smartass he sure can be a dumbass.

You were beyond crushed. Just like usual you froze up. You didn’t give Rain a chance to ask if you were okay, you walked off quickly. You left him standing there, confused and unsure if he did anything wrong.

The rest of the day went on. You stayed hidden in your room after that embarrassing fail. Rain consulted with Mileena and Kitana about what just happened. He went on and on about how he didn’t understand what you meant. He was confused about why you wanted to sleep in his bed. When Kitana asked exactly what you said Rain relayed the pickup line. In a matter of seconds, Kitana and Mileena’s faces changed. They knew what you meant. Rain saw the look they were giving him and asked what was wrong now.

“Rain,” Kitana started, “She was flirting with you.”

“She was asking to sleep with you. You know…” Mileena made the gesture with her fingers that indicated what she meant.

Computing…computing…loading…load-SEX! YOU MEANT SEX!

“By Argus, why didn’t she just say that!?” Because that’s not casual, Rain.

Rain booked it out of there, almost forgetting his water staff in the process. He was at your door in minutes. He kept banging on it with little regard for his hand. You groaned as you picked your head up from your bed. You quickly opened the door thinking there was an emergency.

“Be more direct next time.” Rain said as he pushed his way into your bedroom.

Shall we begin the party?

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

He can be an idiot at times he will admit that. Let him make it up by taking care of you.

You were facing Rain as he had you on his lap. He thrusted into you mindlessly while his mouth was occupied with your nipple. Everything about you was soft to him. He couldn’t get enough of your skin. His hands wandered all over before wrapping his arms around your waist. Occasionally his hands would move down just to get a handful of your ass. It’s too tempting how could he not squeeze it.

Your breasts were doing wonders for this man. The moment he saw them he pulled you in so he could shove his face in between them. He looked so peaceful as he sucked on your nipple. Your breasts have become his new happy place. Your fingers ran through his hair which made this more pleasurable for him. He doesn’t want this to end.

You sure were enjoying yourself. With the position you were in you were sitting right on seven inches. Seven inches that was going in and out of you at a steady rhythm. Don’t forget the fact that your clit was being rubbed every time he thrusted into you. Hell even when he took a breather and you would start grinding, your clit was getting the attention it needed. You were in a drunken daze, whimpering and pants with each thrust. It felt like his cock was reaching into your stomach. Every time he hit your g-spot you would twitch and bring his face closer to your breasts. You’re suffocating the poor man but he loves it.

Why Rain is so good at this is a mystery. A mystery you don’t care to solve you are happy with living in this cock drunken state.

This party must come to an end. You both had your fun and you couldn’t hold back your orgasm. You felt Rain’s cock twitch inside you, letting you know he was close. You made him look up at you. You saw how his eyes twinkled when he stared up at you. That look encouraged you to start kissing him passionately as the orgasm hit you both. Hot strings of cum shot into you as your pussy clenched around his cock. Both your moans were being muffled by the kiss luckily.

He held you in his arms for a while as your both caught your breath. You got off his lap and immediately collapsed onto your bed. Rain quickly came to your side and brought you in close. He had your head resting on his chest, allowing you to listen to his heartbeat. His heart was beating for you.  

What a romantic evening.  

Reiko

Going after a man who only knows war? You’re just brave at this point.

This has to be easy, right? Not many ladies are brave enough to ask out any Outworld soldier, let alone the lieutenant himself. The girls who were brave enough to ask Reiko out were either turned down or he didn’t understand what they were doing. The fact is there are no other ladies trying to go after your man. They see it as a losing game while you see it as a challenge.

You spotted him out on the training grounds with other soldiers. You ran nearby and watching from a distance as he took down his fellow soldiers. Once Reiko noticed that you were there you waved him over. He told everyone to take a quick break as he walked over to you. Once he was right in front of you he questioned why you were around and why you seemed to be waiting for him. You told him you had a question for him.

“So…uh…do you like sleeping?” you said with some confidence.

“…yes? Sleep is important to a man like me.”

“Wow, me too…we should try it sometimes.” You finished with less confidence.

“You don’t want to sleep with me.”

“Oh…” You were quiet for a bit before deciding to walk off.

His skull is too thick I fear.

Reiko stared at you before turning around. His soldiers looked at him like he was crazy. He asked them what they were looking at. They started yelling at him that he fumbled so hard. They asked if he really didn’t want to have sex with a pretty lady like you. They said Reiko was so lucky to be flirted with by you.

“Sex? She didn’t ask to have sex with me. She asked to sleep with me.” He replied.

“It’s the same thing!” They yelled back in unison.

“That’s just stupid! If she just said sex I would have said yes!” Too late, idiot!

Reiko was upset by everyone and everything. He decided to visit you once he was done training with the other soldiers. He found your home and like the weird brute he is, he climbed up to your window. You heard tapping at your window as you were getting ready for bed. You were surprised to see Reiko at your windowsill. You opened the window immediately to let him in.

“Is it really that difficult to ask for sex?” For a man like him, probably not.

You don’t need to do much to get Reiko started, your nightgown was doing the work for you.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Oo look how strong Reiko is. Holding you up as he fucks you against the wall, show off.

He needed to show you how much of a man he was. He’s an idiot, not a heathen who doesn’t need sex. Everyone needs a little bit of fun.

His lips were attacking your lips in a rough kiss as his body pinned your body against your bedroom wall. He held onto your legs and kept them wide open as he thrusted into you. His thrusts were angled a little to allow him to rub against your clit. When it comes to sex, Reiko gives it his all. He never wants to lack. So he’s gonna make sure this will be a night you remember.

You sure will remember. Your pussy will definitely remember and crave his cock again. You will remember how its curved shape was a glorious feeling. Combined with his thick size you won’t be needing any other man. He stretched you out that the pain was pleasurable.

Reiko is a rough lover in general so his thrusts were just as rough. All you can hear is the sound of skin slapping, wet sounds, and heavy breathing. You felt his teeth lightly biting down on your lower lip. He didn’t want to ruin your perfect lip so he moved down to your neck. His teeth sank into your soft skin, littering it with marks. Bite marks were appearing all over your neck and shoulders. Each time he marked you his tongue would run over the mark he just made.

“You’re going to look so pretty when I’m done with you. Can’t wait to see everyone’s reactions when they see that you’re my lady now.” He is such a cocky bastard.

You were loopy but were on cloud nine. The pain and pleasure were a devious combination. It’s a high. A high you could only get from Reiko. He is your drug that leaves evidence of his effects on you.

Highs have to end eventually. You started panting fast as you got closer to cumming. Reiko watched your face as he went faster. Your head went back against the wall while your eyes began to shut tight. Your lovely moans came flowing out of your mouth and into Reiko’s ears. He thought the only noise he ever liked was the sound of his enemies dying. But it seems like you’ve proven him wrong.

Your body went somewhat limp but he still held you up. He’s not done yet. He was still pounding away, feeling how your pussy grew wetting to the point it was dripping. He made you stare up at him as he kept fucking you. He wanted to watch you lose yourself more from this. The sight of your eyes growing wet from being overstimulated was delicious to him. It was enough to send him over the edge. You saw the satisfied smile on his face as his cum filled up your pussy. He was trying to shove it as deep as he could like he was trying to mark you even more.

He held you in his arms as he pulled out. His cum was dripping out of you and onto the floor. Whatever, you guys can clean it up in the morning. You both need rest after that rough session. He placed you lightly on the bed before getting in himself. He laid on his back with one arm behind his head and the other wrapped around your body. Reiko was a satisfied man. What would make him even more satisfied was if you asked to be his girlfriend. You need to be blunt when you ask that one.

Give this man a cigarette he is giving off that energy.

Yap notes: WOO DOGGY THAT WAS A LOT. Had to put my mind into it. Thank you for letting me pick I’m glad to do more of my favorite/ underrated men! It was enjoyable to write. Now I need a nap. Adiós!

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Mihawk prefers to keep work and his private life separate. On one rare occasion when these two have to comingle, Mihawk is rather upset at the attention you attract.]

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When Mihawk said "It will be just a moment, my dear", you didn't think the issue would take more than half an hour. Yet here you are, two hours after he had left you in a fussy lounge in the back of Midnight Grove...

...and not a Dracule Mihawk in sight.

You let out an exasperated sigh and take another sip of your mai tai. The band is playing yet another song that sounds vaguely identical to the previous one. Similarly, the mob of other patrons seems to be merging into one, murky background of blurry figures in your eyes. Being used to the peaceful yet refined companionship of Mihawk, the aura of Midnight Grove is beyond unbearable.

Mindlessly playing with a coaster featuring a howling wolf, you don't notice a Marine cadet approaching you.

"I'm afraid I have to arrest you, my lady."

The unexpected and, frankly, unwelcome comment makes you look up from the devilishly fascinating coaster. Your eyes fall on a well-built man with long hair and a smug expression. The glint in his brown eyes makes you tense up in discomfort.

"Excuse me?" you ask him, not understanding the meaning behind his words.

The cadet gives you a bad parody of a flirtatious smile. "You look too beautiful," he purrs out.

You can't help but laugh. Somehow, you're undecided whether his pick-up disgusts or amuses you or maybe both. Perhaps his audacity forced a laugh out of you - the ring on your fourth finger is neither modest nor simple. Considering how the large gem in the golden band shone in the low light of the Midnight Grove, even a blind man could tell from a mile away that you are anything but single.

"Anyone waiting for you at home?" he continues his rather poor attempt at flirting.

With a casual flick of your wrist, you toss the coaster on the table. Feeling both curious and entertained, you decide to play along - for now, at least. "Why are you asking, sailor boy?" you question before taking another sip of your drink. The ice has melted and the diluted drink now tastes mostly of old freezer.

"He must be mighty jealous about you. And considering the gold you're wearing," he makes a point of staring at your cleavage, "a millionaire, too."

"Oh, this?" You look down at the necklace of jewels and pearls. A memory flashes before your eyes, suddenly remembering Mihawk's face, barely visible in candlelight as he clasps the jewellery around your neck, telling you sweet things only men in romance novels tend to say. "Yes, it's a gift from someone. I'm sure you know him," you tell the Marine cadet in a casual tone, already imagining how hilarious his face of terror will be when he realizes whose spouse he's been trying to woo. "Tall, yellow eyes, a rather large sword and...

"Awfully annoyed at your impertinence, boy."

The low, guttural voice laced with withheld anger makes both of you look away. There, standing right behind the cadet, is Mihawk himself. Part of his large physique blocks the scarce lighting, making him look significantly more insidious. In the twilight of the Midnight Grove, with fury burning in his eyes, Mihawk appears closer to a demon than a man.

Although the room is dark, you can clearly see the way the cadet's blood draws from his face and the way his eyes are suddenly bigger than an owl's. He scrambles to his feet, almost falling off his chair. Then, muttering apologies and promises of better behaviour, the young Marine runs off only to disappear in the crowd of Midnight Grove's patrons.

Mihawk's eyes follow the youngling for a moment.

"I should have him strung up and killed," he says more to himself than you.

"Or," you speak up, a playful smile curling your lips, "you could sit down, have a drink with your beautiful wife and gloat about the fact that you're the only man to undress her."

You might just be a witch because the change in his demeanour is instant. There is still something wild in his bright, yellow eyes but it's not bloodthirst or anger anymore. You notice how he glances at the ring and the necklace, admiring his own signs of "ownership". One would think they're big enough to send the message. Alas, some people just refuse to receive it.

"You have me convinced," Mihawk says as he sits down next to you.

[avis-writeshq]

pairing: early seasons!spencer reid x sunshine!fem!reader genre: fluff, pining, best friends to lovers warnings: reader struggles growing her nails out, reader gets her nails done. vietnamese women are the best at doing nails i swear (also if you get the reference you win another kiss) wc: 1.08k

Spencer thinks you deserve all the best things in life. There are various reasons for this but the one that sticks out to him the most is that fact that you have always been exceedingly kind to him. You have always listened to him when he talks and never once tried to belittle him for any of his interests. A part of him thinks that it’s because your ages are so similar. Another part of him thinks that you’re just pitying him. He truly hopes that isn’t the case. 

He makes you your coffee in the mornings. He knows how you take it– which milk you prefer, the amount of sugar. He has even gone as far as to buy your favourite instant coffee brand– the kind that are unreasonably expensive and have to be bought through a weirdly sketchy website despite its raving reviews. He remembers the way your eyes lit up as you held the familiar box excitedly and he can’t help but preen at the memory. 

“Thank you for coffee, Spence,” you chirp as you spy your unofficially assigned mug on your desk. You’re wet from the rain, the shoulders of your coat darkened from where your umbrella has dripped water onto it. “Hotch would’ve killed me if I had to spend another five minutes at the kitchen. It’s not my fault my train came fifteen minutes late.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, watching as you shake your hair away from your face before warming your hands with the mug. “I did tell him that there was a correlation between rainy weather and increased train delays which could have been a reason that you were late.”

You smile, clearly amused, asking, “how did he take it?”

“He pointed out that I’m still earlier than the rest of the team,” Spencer responds sheepishly, his cheeks growing pink. “I planned my train route for when the rain would be the least heavy.”

“I should follow in your footsteps,” you muse, sipping at your coffee and sighing in relief. “You always make this better than me.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he murmurs, his hand brushing against his scarf. “I was– um, I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch together later?”

You laugh softly and he relishes in the sound. “I only just got here and you’re already asking about lunch?”

He feels his cheeks glow hotter as he scrambles to explain himself. “Well– usually– uh, JJ usually asks you so I guess I wanted to ask before she did. And you have lunch with Garcia a lot so I thought I should ask when you get here and– sorry, is that wrong?”

“No, of course not,” you assure, beaming. “I’m touched that you think that I’m so popular that you need to book an appointment with me.”

“You are popular?” He says it like a question because a part of him is genuinely baffled that you don’t realise how well liked you are. He has found that you always manage to command the attention in the room and he has seen first hand the way people would be instantly drawn to you. He finds that he is no different. 

“I promise you that I am not as popular as you believe I am,” you say with another laugh. “I’m flattered though, truly. I’d love to have lunch with you.”

Spencer cannot stop smiling.

*** 

“You’re whipped.”

Spencer shoots JJ a look, his cheeks glowing hot with embarrassment. “I am not whipped.”

“You have been staring at her talking to Officer Deetmore for the past six minutes and twenty seven seconds,” she points out, her eyes narrowing. 

“They’re probably just making small talk.”

Emily shrugs from her desk, mixing her cup noodles around. “I don’t know, I’m surprised that she can hold a conversation with someone so intellectually disinclined.”

JJ snickers. “You’re just mad that he mislabeled a file and spread the profile.”

“Intellectually disinclined.”

“Guys,” Spencer pleads, inconspicuously gesturing to you saying your farewells and already heading in their direction.

You’re smiling although it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Your arms are folded over your chest, a classic sign of discomfort, and your hands are tucked into your armpits. “Hey. What’s going on?”

“Are you alright?” Spencer asks instead of answering, soft enough as not to call attention to your little group. “What’s wrong?”

“Hm? Oh. I broke a nail.” You show him briefly– your natural nail has split at the corner just where they’re gaining length. “I’m a little bummed. It caught on the zipper of my go-bag.”

“Do you want to get your nails done after the case?” He asks, brows furrowing. “I have a nail clipper and file in my bag.”

JJ can’t help but be amused at this new fact. “You have a nail care pack in your bag? What, do you just take it around with you everywhere?”

He shrugs, ignoring the slight jab, pulling out the little pack from his satchel and handing it to you. He is well aware that you take pride in what you look like, especially your nails. You’ve told him the reason before, that your school was so strict that they wouldn’t let anyone grow their nails long and if they did they would be cut short by the nurse. He thinks that it’s borderline abuse. 

“Manicures are expensive,” you murmur, your eyes downcast as you focus on clipping each of your nails to an equal length. “Are we even allowed to have our nails done?”

“Federal Enforcement Resources states under grooming guidelines that ‘Makeup (including fingernail polish and artificial nails) may be worn by employees but must be professional and must not interfere with the proper use and handling of equipment necessary for their assigned duties’,” Spencer provides helpfully. “I can pay for your nails, too, if price is the issue. The bakery I buy my banh mi from has a nail place next door. I’m sure I can get a discount.”

You laugh as you file down your nails into a smooth edge. “You want to pay for my nails?”

“Oh, um, yeah.” He nods, cheeks suddenly hot and he wipes his palms on his slacks. “If you’d let me.”

“Gosh, well, at least take me out to dinner first, Spence.” You say it with jest, your eyes lighting up with mirth.

He doesn’t seem to catch your joking tone, nodding in earnest. “Alright. After the case, how does Saturday sound? I can pick you up at 6?” 

Emily and JJ are all too pleased. 

reblogs are always appreciated !!

[artsninspo]

FORGIVELESS - IV - YOU DON'T MIND SECOND FIDDLE, THAT'S WHY YOU A BITCH 🎻

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RIO MASTERLIST

IV - YOU DON'T MIND SECOND FIDDLE, THAT'S WHY YOU A BITCH 🎻

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word Count: ~2.4K

Warning: Messy, mature themes & 🌶️ implied, a bit of a domestic situation.

Summary: The rendezvous with Rio continue causing James to spiral. only women are better cheaters. Rio proposes something outside of his previous boundaries. Japan is revealed while you get to keep your secret about Rio a little longer.

Sitting in front of the mirror pleased with your makeup you go over excuses in your head. You’ve set up the perfect situation. You’ve overheard James whispering and arguing on the phone. Japan’s been blowing his line up. You already know your husband is suspicious of you but everyday you care a little less. Your own indiscretions with Rio let you know how much work it is to be dishonest. Chasing the highs of being a well off young professional has your husband thinking too much of himself and now he’s paying with his eroding marriage. It’s Rio who’s been consistent for a man who doesn’t think he's the relationship type. Looking yourself, you smile, feeling sexy. It’s become a familiar feeling again with Rio.  Heading downstairs you find James sitting on the couch which is a rarity for a Friday night. Usually he has some more important plans than spending time with you.

“Where are you going?” He asks.

“Friends bachelorette” you smile.

“Which friend?” he asks.

“Marlène from yoga, I was invited.” you tell him.

“Marlène” he says trying to register the name. “I can drive you there and pick you up” he offers.

“No need babe, I don’t drink” you remind him.

“How late?” he asks.

“Maybe 2 or 3 the latest” you tell him.

“Okay, maybe we should keep a calendar so we can keep up with each other's schedules. In case I want to surprise you” he suggests.

“Sure, I’ll see you in a bit” you smile waving.

“Hold up, we were invited to the wedding?” He asks standing as he makes his way over to you.

“I declined the invite. I know how busy you get.” You respond. 

“Next time, ask me first. I love you and I want to do what it takes to make you happy. I know it’s been hard since the move but I’m here and I’m in this and I miss you.” He says. All it took was some distance for him to shape up and pay attention.

“Ok” you nod pecking his lips and when he deepens the kiss, it's all wrong. The passion isn’t there, or if it is it doesn’t mix well with his lies and betrayal. You’re relieved when he pulls away. Your heart isn’t racing, there's no tingles or butterflies. Your heart settles a little knowing the sun has set on your marriage. You force a smile heading out to the car. Standing there James is struck with panic, sure now more than ever he’s losing you.

Heading out you meet a new group of friends at one of Rio’s clubs. It’s a bachelorette party. You remember yours. You’d been too young to be considered someone’s wife and so excited to do whatever James asked of you. It’s bittersweet memories. Had you known then what you know now you wouldn't have walked down the aisle. A cheater, a liar, a coward and your husband. Mentally you decide to file the next time you have some free time or at least get the papers. Once the liquor starts flowing between the girls you call Rio as planned. The thrill is still there, it’s how you're making it through this tough time. Reclaiming your agency as a woman. Rejecting the treatment you once settled for. Doing James just as bad. It’s dark when Rio rolls up to the back entrance of his establishment. It's only been fifteen minutes since you made the call, he gets out his G-Wagon matching it in all black. His hands go into the pockets of his black denim jacket as he waits against the passenger door. You dont waste any time heading to him. His smile is the same as always as his eyes look you over in appreciation. Rio never misses the details. Stepping aside he opens the door helping you into the truck. 

“You good?” He asks and you nod as he pulls off. 

“You?” You ask.

“Mhm” he nods. The silence is comfortable and Rio keeps a hand on your thigh possessively as he drives to his place. You notice he’s not here with you and somewhere else in his thoughts when he passes the exit to his place.

“Rio, you missed the exit” you tell him.

“I’m taking you to my place” he mutters looking over at you. You swallow feeling the new reality between you has changed. You're no longer on quicksand, you're in it. You don't respond feeling comfortable with the decision. You place your hand over his on your thigh.

“I gotta go out of town for a few days,” he says, breaking the silence.

“How long is a few days” you ask.

“Three, I was hoping you could come with me,” Rio says, shocking you. It’s what had been on his mind. If he left it would give James the opportunity to slither his way back into your good graces and probably lead to a reconciliation. Something Rio didn't want to even entertain the possibility of for his own selfish reasons, among the principal of things.

“Come with you?” you ask.

“That’s what I said, what I fuck you so good you cant hear now?” he remarks and you hit him playfully.

“Shut up” you laugh.

“You coming or what?” he asks and you look him over.

“Where are you heading?” you ask.

“Mexico for my cousin's wedding. I have a plus one” Rio says casually.

“I would love to but with all I have going on it’s not the right time” you sigh.

Rio’s nostrils flare in frustration “So what?”

You sigh, “Rio, leaving the country to be your date looks bad.”

“Fuck everyone who would question you after you say he stepped out” Rio snaps.

“Rio you’re being unreasonable” you respond.

“What about me gives off reasonable?” he responds and you smile. He’s right from day one he’s been a handful.

“Rio” you start.

“Tell him whatever he needs to hear, then bring your ass to Mexico with me.” he demands like it's not even a question.

“You want me held up in your room like a sex slave for a few days” You scoff.

“Shit the roleplaying might get you off” he shrugs still upset that you aren't jumping up and down like most women. Rio doesn't like having to compete for your time with the ego of a man that doesnt deserve you even a little.

“You’re being an ass” you smile, rolling your eyes at him playfully. He comes in for a kiss and your phone rings. You look at the caller ID and see it’s James. Rio sighs and you follow suit. You let it ring out but he calls again. After the third ring Rio turns on his sound system to mimic the club before hitting the answer.

“James?” You say.

“What time are you getting home? It's after one” he says.

“I don’t know I’m having fun” you lie.

“I’ll come meet you” he offers.

“No, go out with your friends. Don’t wait up.” You shout.

“No, I miss you and I want to make love to my wife tonight.” The thought alone is off putting. When your eyes re-open from the disgusted shudder you find Rio watching you pissed.

“Sorry I can’t hear you, I’ll see you in a bit. Bye!” You shout hanging up.

“You’re gonna have to tell him you know,” Rio says.

“I’m not ready to play pretend with my family or his. It’ll take time away from you and I'm having fun.” You explain knowing how it’ll work. Women were expected to be distraught, hurt or psychotic after infidelity from their husbands. Your callously orchestrated revenge will be vilified and used as justification for his indiscretions in the beginning. You’ll be burned at the stake for not lying down and taking disrespect.

“Think he’s shitting himself now? When he knows you know and sees you riding around with me, me taking you out treating you right. Then what?” Rio says onto your lips kissing you. The thought of James getting his just due is desert for the both of you. Your moans are audible as his lips kiss you down your neck. His hands hold you there firmly.

“Are you listening?” He asks.

“Yes” you nod.

“Good” his voice softens his dark eyes holding yours.

“He doesn’t get to touch you, doesn’t get to sleep beside you, doesn’t get to see you undressed, nothing. His time’s up mama.” His words are slow and deliberate. He’s placed his claim. His possession is all in his eyes. “Handle it, Love, or I will” he warns, incapable of sharing. You don’t even make it to the bathroom. Rio has his way with you on the couch talking you through it. He fights for control over what he’s feeling and channels all his jealousy and possessiveness into making you feel good enough to want him. Enough to forget about the feelings of a man that did not consider yours or upkeep his vows. You spend the night christening his home and the morning is everything you hoped morning’s with James would be like in this new city. Slow and full of comfortable silences based on quality time. Rio typically did not talk too much, not needing to but today was different. He wanted to put an end to Jame’s hold on you. To James being a two timing fuck waling around like he owns the world. He wanted James to pay for blowing up your life. By the time you leave Rio’s place it’s 9am. That’s how little fucks you have left to give. You don’t expect James to be waiting at the house when you arrive but he’s sitting in the living room fuming mad. His eyes go to your rings first. When they are located he calms down just a touch.

“Where the fuck have you been!” He snaps through gritted teeth, standing and closing the distance and sniffing you like a dog. It’s how you should treat him.

“Don’t talk to me like that!” You shout triggered.

“You’re not walking out of this house again to go anywhere without me. Matter of fact, give me your phone!” He snaps grabbing your purse from your arm. He finds your phone unlocking it with Face ID and going through it. Instead of fighting him you go for his phone on the island knowing you’re in the clear. You search to find the messages have degraded into arguing instead of steamy exchanges. The blue flame between James and his mistress has faded into contention with him trying to be more present in his marriage. It’s against everything the mistress wants to hear. Little miss Japan is pulling out the stops. Her revised attempts at luring your husband away from you flip a switch. You clear the counter throwing two vases at him in succession. He fails to duck away from the first one hitting him in the chest. The other douses him with water before shattering on the ground.

“I should’ve known you were cheating!” you scream, snapping him out of his rage. Fear flashes in his expression. “All the accusations! Neglect, no sex, it was all here” you snap holding up his phone. Tears well as you release the secret you’ve been keeping in for the past few weeks. You send the phone flying at him too. The device hits him in the chest and you snatch yours from him. “That’s how you’d let some women speak about me and talk to you. You dirty low down fuck!” You add feeling your hands and face heat from the rage.

“Baby” he panics “It was a mistake.”

“Don’t call me baby, matter of fact don't call me anything! Don’t call me!” You cry getting your keys and heading out. “Japan, Japan, Japan, whole time Japan is a fucking woman that you’re seeing!” you continue your tirade.

“Y/N!” He snaps. “I’m sorry. I can explain, listen to me.” His words mean nothing and you keep on heading to your car. He grabs you violently.

“I said I’m sorry!” he asserts with a mixture of anger and panic.

“You are and I’m done with you” you pull away but he grabs you. You try to free yourself but he’s too strong. You struggle against him as you and him exchange unheard feelings at a high volume. He wins the struggle.

“I said I’m sorry! I made a mistake but I love you!” He shouts, shaking you and your heart races as you see all the threads you’ve been picking at are loose. You want to stick the nail in the coffin but you don't. Instead you look at him with all the hate you feel for the predicament his actions have created. 

“I hate you and you’ll regret it I promise” you snap, turning to face him as you open the garage. Fear turns from panic to rage again at your threat. He grabs your arm unlike ever before. “Get out my face and let me go. Go be where you’ve been with her.” you snap pushing him off. 

“Don’t walk away from me and don’t threaten me!” He snaps as you get to your car. Before you get in he grabs your hood, yanking you back.

“What’s going on here?” An officer interrupts. Just the way his eyes fall on you it’s clear he’s been sent by Rio. James steps back and you readjust your neckline.

“I’m trying to leave and he won’t let me” you speak frankly. You hear James gasp in shock at your betrayal.

.

“She’s my wife. Officer I just want to speak with her” James says. You look him over and see he’s all wet. It definitely looks like a domestic dispute.

“Do you want to speak with him?” the officer asks you.

“No” you respond and the officer opens your car door. You get in.

“Y/N!” James shouts.

“Keeping her here against her will with force is something I can charge you with” the officer informs your asshole soon to be ex-husband.

“It’s a marital disagreement,” James says, trying to turn on the charm. It doesn’t work on the officer who gives him a final glare before walking out with you. 

“Stay put” he snaps at James. “Are you alright?” he asks and you nod, adjusting your sweater and clothes. 

“Yes”

“Did he hit you?”

“No officer he didn’t” you confess honestly.

“Go see Rio” the cop whispers before closing the car door. You’re a little startled at how perceptive you are and pull out of the driveway to head to Rio’s place. You find him pissed and pacing. His eyes go to your stretched out collar but he keeps his thoughts to himself offering you comfort and a hug. He ignores his phone ringing and you ignore yours until James stops calling and it’s your mom. you already know. James is in damage control mode.

Thanks for reading my loves, theres more mess to come - I promise. Keep on, liking, commenting and sending over ideas. I hope those of you who send some in liked seeing them integrated in the story. What was your favorite part?

NEXT CHAPTER

TAGS:

@meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality

[sulumuns-dootah]

WHB characters boyfriend HCs

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Written mid October as a way to make myself feel better. Might turn this into a series, if anyone is interested ^^

Characters: Satan, Paimon, Beelzebub, Gusion, Michael

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Bike rides and bar dates - I can just imagine going for a drive through Gehenna's streets, tightly holding onto Satan so you don't fall off a the high speed (Just like Minhyeok when Juno drove him to school in chapter 6)

Okay, on the theme of bars: kinda funny but I imagne him holding his hard liquor much better than something with little-to-none alcohol

Lots of lovebites and hickeys

Despite stuggling to sleep normally, when you're with him, it's the exact opposite and whenever you cuddle, he's out within minutes

His love language is bullying

During his depressive episodes, you're the only one he'll let near him

NSFW HCs

That horn style might as well be called handlebars, bc you sure will be holding onto dear life ( joke stolen from Trixie Mattel)

He has a thing for when someone rides his boots

Kinda obvious one, but a lot of BDSM in the bedroom

If you're a monsterfucker, he wouldn't mind changing into his other form for you

    ༺☆༻

Shopping dates!!

If you wish to, your relationship can be fully off social media despite Pai practically living on them

Matching stuff!

Loves doing your makeup (even if you don't wear any)

Café dates!

Ultimatelly, you're their new photographer for their posts

Overall the vibe of your relationship really gives me the two best friends who also fuck vibes

Every night is a slumber party!

NSFW HCs

If you get periods, they'll make sure you have all the stuff in the world you might need

And if you require some special attention down there, they're more than excited to make you feel good

I can imagine a lot of roleplay with cute outfits for the both of you

    ༺☆༻

Even when you're not with each other, there's at least a fly following you around to make sure you're okay

His clones do prove useful for more than just sex - putting new fitted sheets onto your mattress? done and done!

Every date is in a new location you never even knew about

Despite his memory being shit, he'll remember all the important and small things: your favorite scent? favorite dish? flower? yep, all memorised or turned into a tattoo on his inner wrist!

Oh, speaking of tattoos... You two get a matching one to seal the deal on your relationship

Instead of proposal with a ring, Beel proposes with a piercing needle and giving you the choice of what he'll pierce (you can even pick multiple spots!)

NSFW HCs

Let's get the obvious out of the way: Yes, he loves eating you out so much he'd spend the next century between your legs

And yes, you can say goodbye to deodorants/perfumes

Surprisingly not into food play tho... If you look any more yummy, he might actually eat you :D

    ༺☆༻

Workaholic baby :(

Like seriously, you sometimes have to cleverly lure him away from his math problems

If you're a student, you've won the jackpot! He might not be an expert in your field, but he knows how to help you learn

Gaming nights with some insane hard puzzle games

A cute scenario: Gus taking off his glasses before leaning down to kiss you deeply

I already mentioned this in my post about confessing a crush to him, but he might neglect you a bit from being so into his work so make sure to sound off and let him know

NSFW HCs

Someone gets a bit hot and bothered after your study session together

Ooh! I absolutely can't forget a good ol' teacher/student roleplay

He's most likely originally from Gehenna bc of how horny he got from the thought of having a headache, so I HC that he'll come seek you out after getting one to fuck the life out of you

    ༺☆༻

His hair is 100% pure silk

Your relationship probably started with Mikey first seeing you and not being able to read you, so he decided to keep his remaining eye on you to see what's the story with you

Somehow ended up accidentally(?) falling for you

He's definitelly the most likely demon to get unhealthily obsessed with his s/o

A lot of attachment issues after loosing God and Lucifer

That mom friend for sure (even literally a mom - kinda makes me wonder how he'd react to all the lesser angels he made giving him Mother's day card)

One daydream plot i came up with is that if I were in Hell and Michael showed up, I'd just pretend to be fully delulu that he's into me, but isn't ready to tell me yet The whole "Aw, you came to see me? Does that mean...? that you're ready to confess to me...?" He'd just get disgusted and leave and then everybody claps

NSFW HCs

Kinda obvious, but he's iffy about sexual subjects at first

Still doesn't mean he hasn't thought a few times about breaking out of his chastity cage

Once you break down his restraints, he's maybe even freakier than some demons in Abaddon

Maybe there's a good reason God locked his angels up

Okay, hear me out: Michael x MC x Raphael (yes, death is almost guaranteed, but what a way to go!)

[azrielbrainrot]

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 3

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: When your own identity is challenged you're forced to find an ally in what you thought was the most unlikely place.

Warnings: Angst, Memory loss, mentions of death

Word Count: 5950

Notes: Sorry for the wait but I had to map things out to answer all the questions I started in the previous chapters (set myself up there) and lack of motivation was kicking my ass. Still, I hope you enjoy!

Part 2 ○ Part 4

You were picking at the food on your plate as Azriel stared at you, looking like he'd rather feed you himself. As hungry as you were, everything was hard to stomach. You tried to tell him as much but had only been met with a scolding, he seemed extremely interested in your health. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was content with watching you even if you never actually gave him anything. It seemed like the spymaster wasn't too preoccupied with the fact that he had caught you stealing from his High Lord.

Following your sudden breakdown, Azriel had managed to calm you down enough, insisting that you didn't talk about anything else until you ate and were ready for it. Your eyes still hurt and were probably puffy from the tears that had flowed not even an hour ago, and your head still ached, even if it didn't come anywhere close to the excruciating pain you felt before.

The same feeling as before still crawled under your skin, the same questions swirling around in your mind, but you managed to find your composure after the ache had transformed into something manageable and the tears had dried. Admittedly, you were a bit scared of prying into your mind and triggering the same reaction as before - it really had felt like your brain was trying to forcefully escape your skull.

You were still trying to make sense of everything, denying that you were missing important information wouldn't help you. There was no way Azriel was confusing you for someone else, not with the way your body reacted to him and the dreams you've had for far longer than you've been here. There was also the problem of you being a prisoner in this room, as nice and attentive as your prison guard has been there has to be a punishment waiting for you.

When your head felt like it was going to burst, you could swear someone else had barged into the room but you couldn't stay focused on it or hear what they were saying through your own desperate screams. You think you saw something red glinting, but didn't even make out anyone's form, your vision was too blurry. You're not even sure how many of them walked through the door. By the time you came to and calmed down it was only you and Azriel in the room again, and all you could feel was his arms around you, grounding you.

You bite down on another small piece of sausage, arranged as if they were meant to feed a child - you hadn't seen him cut them but you know it has to be his work - as you remembered how desperate he sounded in that moment. You're not sure if the soothing words he whispered in your ear were meant for you or for himself, he was just short of begging you to be okay. It was a little embarrassing to think about how fragile he had seen you in that moment but it was even worse remembering how intimately he held you.

Looking up at Azriel, you're not surprised to meet his eyes, they haven't left you for longer than a second, it's like he's scared you'll disappear if he looks away. You can still see the concern swirling in the beautiful hazel.

You had so many questions, knew he had even more, but you weren't sure where to even begin. Any hope of him starting to talk was evaporating faster with every second. He had told you he wouldn't bring anything up until you were ready but you thought he'd at least ask about the robbery, start off easy. You couldn't push your doubts aside any longer, it felt like you were both playing a part, ignoring the elephant in the room.

“Azriel?” His name triggers the same reaction every time you say it. You might have to go to a healer if you survive this, having your heart fluttering so often can't be healthy.

“Yes?” He leans closer letting his wings pull in closer to his body, ready to give you his undivided attention.

You've noticed how his wings move with him and can give you small clues on what he might be feeling sometimes, like a cat's ears, perking up or dropping with his emotions. The same happens with his shadows really, moving towards you when they're interested, like a tail you suppose.

“There's something wrong.” His eyes open wide and he's on his feet before you can even blink, standing over you and reaching out for your hand. That might not have been the best way to start.

“What's wrong?” He holds onto your wrist, feeling for your pulse. “Does it hurt again?”

“No, nothing hurts,” you try to calm him down, cheeks slightly flushed. “I mean this.” You gesture between the two of you, hoping he's aware of the terrified expression on his face. “You're worried about me.” He visibly relaxes at that, understanding you're not physically hurting again.

“Of course, I am.” He sits on the side of the bed, never letting go of your wrist but holding onto it a little softer, drawing circles with his thumb over your skin. You're not even sure if he's doing it on purpose, or if it simply comes naturally.

“Why would you be?” You have an idea of the answer, he's already made it more than clear that he knows you very well. “I thought you'd be guarding me to make sure I didn't escape but you've been taking care of me instead.”

His eyes roam over your desperate face, taking notice of every expression you make. He's probably scared of saying something that will send you into the same state as before, clawing at your head to stop, but you can see how much he wants to tell you, to stop pretending.

“You're my wife,” he admits, a small smile playing on his lips right after, like saying the word is enough to make him happy, and looks down at his hand still wrapped around your wrist, running his thumb down the veins to the palm of your hand, loosely holding it instead.

“I don't…” You thought there had to be some sort of romantic relationship between you and him, or the person he thinks you are, but you didn't expect him to say wife. “I've never been married.” You never even thought it would be a possibility with your job.

Him thinking you're his wife definitely answers a lot of questions, mostly the reason why you aren't in a dark dungeon after what you've done to them, but it just opens up a whole other box of chaos.

You set the plate aside, knowing you can't keep any more food down with the way the conversation has to go. You wish you could just crawl into your own bed, in your own home and wait until all of this mess passes. Running a hand down your face, you steel yourself, recognizing you need to get to the bottom of this, not only for your sake but his as well. Whatever was at play here was larger than you could have imagined.

“I don't remember you at all, Azriel,” you admit. He just nods, almost pouting, without looking away from your hand still clutched in his. “But I've dreamt about you.” He perks up at that, surprised eyes darting up to meet yours.

“I dream about you almost every night,” he admits softly, a reddish tint covering the tips of his ears.

“If I'm supposed to be your wife, should I be offended that it's not every night?” The lame joke does nothing to ease your nerves, as you intended, but the blinding smile he rewards you with certainly makes the next words easier to come out.

“What you called me before… that's not my name,” you continue slowly, “My name is Maya.”

“Maya,” he tries it out but the discomfort is obvious on his face. To your surprise, you don't like how it sounds coming from him either, while every other word he utters sounds like honey.

“I know that's my name. I know I'ver never been here or met you before,” you explain, “I know I never married you either. I can account for every year of my life, there are no gaps in my memories. You're not in any of them, neither is this house,” you look into his eyes the whole time, squeezing his hand slightly, wanting him to feel your sincerity, “but there's something wrong.”

He studies your face with an unreadable expression. If this whole situation is hard for you to wrap your head around, you can't imagine what it is like looking in from the outside. The only reason you believed him was because of your body's response to him, but all he can see is a female who looks just like his wife yet doesn't recognize him.

His hand leaves yours as he takes the ring he was wearing off slowly, taking your hand and depositing it on your palm gently.

“What's this?” It's a simple silver ring, worn out from what you assume is years of training and fighting while wearing it. Your heart palpitations come back the longer you study it, you know it.

“My wedding ring,” he almost whispers, “You had yours when…” You look up at him and he shakes his head almost imperceptibly, “I don't have it.”

You nod and let it fall on your finger, in place of where your own wedding ring would be. It's too big on you, it would likely be too loose even if you had put it on your thumb, but you almost don't want to take it off. Goosebumps spread all over your body, your heart rate picking up.

“Do you feel anything?”

“I'm not sure I can explain it,” you breathe, not fully understanding the reaction your body has to him.

“Try me,” he insisted.

“Ever since I heard about this mission and stepped foot into this city, it feels like my brain is screaming at me to remember something really important but I can't,” you say, watching the way the wedding band hangs around your finger, “and when I put this ring on just now.” You hold up your hand for him to see, the light catching on it.

You look up at him before continuing, “When I first saw you. When you told me your name. When I… When I stabbed you.” Your eyes travel to his stomach, where an open wound had been just a few hours ago. “I feel a pain in my chest.” It makes itself known again as you think of the way his blood had dripped down your hands. “Holding the ring feels right. Saying your name feels right. But hurting you… didn't.” You take a deep breath in, knowing there's no going back, “So, as insane as this whole situation is, I think I believe you, Azriel.”

The admission lingers in the air as both of you feel its weight. Acknowledging the particular situation you've found yourselves in is only the beginning. Now you must try to understand what happened and how to fix things, if you want that. Part of recognizing what Azriel told you as the truth comes with accepting that some of your life was a lie, and, at this moment, you have no tangible evidence for what is real or not aside from the goosebumps you get when the male in front of you touches you. You don't even know who you truly are.

“If you say I'm your wife then what made me leave?”

“You didn't,” the hesitation is almost tangible in his tone, “I thought you were dead.” Your hand immediately shoots up to your neck, feeling the softened scar under your fingertips. The movement seems to break the dam holding his emotions in check, making everything flow out at once.

“I don't know what happened,” he lets go of you and stands up, running a hand through his hair and pacing around as he explained with an anguished voice, “It was a simple mission. We never found out how exactly but it looked like you were taken by surprise and attacked by bandits. My shadows told me they couldn't sense you so I went to meet you but when I got there all I saw was blood. There was so much blood.”

When he meets your eyes again you can clearly see the tears gathering in them, the pain that still lingers from recalling that moment.

“I looked for you. We all did. We searched in every corner of the world, I sent spies everywhere. We found the bandits and made them talk but when they left your body was still there and your throat was cut.” His wings droop, the bottoms of it touching the floor. Azriel looks defeated. “We thought you were dead. I tried denying it for a while but it came to a point where I couldn't anymore. But now you're here and I- Fuck. I should have kept looking. I shouldn't have given up so easily.”

“Azriel,” you call for him, bringing his attention back to you. The desperation and raw pain in his voice were breaking your heart. “Whatever happened wasn't your fault.”

“I should have found you,” he whispers, completely contrasting with his tone mere moments before.

“You thought I was dead.” The words are hard to form, and you can't linger on them too long. You always knew the injury you suffered was severe, that it had been near miraculous that you survived but finding out there were people out there that truly believed you were dead was chilling. “This whole situation still feels impossible, there's no way you could have known I was still alive.”

He nods at you, but you can clearly see he can't let go of it. The attentiveness and overprotection he's been showing you makes much more sense now. Azriel sits on the chair he has barely left since you were brought to this room. He seems to try to regain his composure, combing back the hair he had tousled and bringing his wings up closer to his body again. But his eyes don't meet yours like before.

You fall back against the headboard, the impact softened by the pillows he fluffled out for you, picking at his wedding ring still on your finger. You feel like you're going insane. Maybe letting the guild find you wouldn't be so bad, at least they'd put you out of your misery. Though it's hard to ignore the fact that they seem to be the ones who put you in this situation, letting you live a lie for almost a century.

“It's been a century since then,” you repeated aloud, “And you still…” Love me? You wanted to say, but that wasn't really you, not for now at least. You don't remember anything of your time together, or about yourself. Maybe the only thing that survived was your body. There's a possibility that the female he loved had actually died, that he'll never fully get her back even if you regain your memories.

“I told you,” the smile you witnessed earlier comes back to his face, even if with only half the prior intensity, “I dream about you almost every night.”

“This doesn't make any sense.” You had moved to sit cross legged over the covers, tired of laying in bed when your body wasn't even hurting. Nibbling on a chocolate cookie the House, who Azriel told you is sort of sentient, gave you.

“I know.” He had calmed down since his outburst, going back to what you assume is closer to his usual demeanor, though he might not always act the same as when his dead wife is sitting across from him. His shadows seemed to have relaxed as well, most of them had left him in favor of swirling around the room like smoke. “When I saw you in the living room, I thought you came back.”

“But I came to rob you instead.”

He lets out a chuckle, “I couldn't have imagined that in my wildest dreams.” His gaze turns a bit more serious before he adds, “my High Lord and High Lady want to speak to you.”

“I figured as much.” You were actually surprised they hadn't shown up yet, the sun was already close to setting. “Did you tell them you think I'm your wife?”

“They know. You and Rhys were friends too.”

The thought that you could be friends with a High Lord is almost laughable, but so was being married to his shadowsinger and yet the fluttering of your heart every time he speaks to you in that deep, soft voice of his doesn't lie.

You think for a bit, remembering the information you had been granted before coming on your mission. Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, the most powerful one in history and the bearer of one of the most sought-after and frightening abilities - daemati. It's said his mate, the recently turned fae, Feyre Archeron, shares the same talent.

“Is it true that he's a daemati?” He simply nods, knowing you're following his train of thought.

“You want him to look into my head.”

“He might be able to find out what happened to you,” he nods, “the reason you forgot me, forgot us.”

“And you're sure he'll want to help me after what I did? He looked pretty mad when I saw him last night,” you say as you chew on your lip.

Granting him passage into your mind might be more than a leap of faith. You've found it easy to talk to Azriel, to trust him, but you haven't met anyone else, and can't trust they won't want to hurt you. Azriel seemed to not care much about your initial reason for coming to the court or even what you did to him but you can't expect everyone to feel the same, even if they had been your friends a century ago. And a daemati could break you beyond repair, even just seeing their abilities in action has always left you unsettled.

“Rhys won't hurt you,” he tells you, his face showing he has no doubts about his words.

“It's not like I have much of a choice anyway,” you brush the crumbs off your nightgown, stretching your legs and moving until you are sitting at the edge of the mattress. It brought you closer to him, your knees brushing his, the feeling of the leather feeling oh so familiar against your bare skin, making your next words come out breathier than you wanted them to, “You can call them.”

Something flashes across his tantalizing eyes when he looks down at your bare legs, noting the change in your tone, but it disappears when he looks back at you, nodding softly and letting his eyelids shut as if to level himself. Some of his shadows come back to him and, as his silence prolongs, you realize he must be speaking to them in his mind, calling his High Lord just as you asked.

The pressure in the room changes as soon as he opens his eyes, the air getting harder to breathe. It's not as strong as what you'd felt the night before but the tamed magic is enough to have the hairs on the back of your neck stand, and a shiver to run down your spine. You truly hope Azriel is right about them.

Azriel stands just as the door opens to reveal his High Lord followed closely by his mate. His unreadable purple eyes study your stiff form, walking inside the room and letting Feyre close the door behind them. She seems more serene, not showing any obvious hostility towards you but you know not to underestimate the human who freed the fae of Prythian.

You stand when they stop in front of you, not letting fear make you appear weak. If they chose to hold you accountable for your actions you would accept their punishment head on.

The first word out of the High Lord's lips is the same name Azriel had called you before, and the same feeling of deja vu consumes you once more.

“Maya,” you correct. His head tilts to the side briefly, before looking over at Azriel who is watching the scene unfold warily.

“Well Maya,” his eyes meet yours again, “Are you going to explain why I've found you lurking around my house?” The venom was clear in his voice, but you expected as much.

“I was sent here on a mission,” you say as emotionlessly as you can, just like the guild taught you, “I was supposed to find an ancient book with a particular set of runes, it seems it belonged to your grandfather.” You hope the lack of information doesn't make you appear suspicious because it truly is the only thing the guild had deemed enough for you to be able to complete your mission. “Since I failed the mission, they've probably already sent assassins after me, in case I tell you or anyone about them.”

“No one is going to hurt you,” Azriel promises, anger rising at the mention of someone wanting to kill you.

“You were in the wrong place for that,” the High Lord responds after a moment, and watching Azriel's reaction. “The book is in the library under this House.”

“It doesn't matter now.”

“You're right, it doesn't. What I want to know is where you've been all these years and why you attacked my brother.”

The pressure in the room increased again but you could now see it was the result of him trying to hold his power down even though his temper was rising.

“Rhys,” his mate warns, but it falls on deaf ears, his striking eyes never leaving yours.

“I don't remember you or him,” you admit.

“So he's told me.” Rhysand didn't sound too convinced. “You won't mind if I check for myself right?” He barely made it sound like a question but you nod in answer all the same.

Black talons scrape along your mental walls as soon as you give him permission, you lower them for him, pushing everything the guild taught you aside, inviting the enemy straight into your mind. If they could see you now you would definitely be mocked and executed on the spot.

His presence is barely felt in your mind before a sharp pain takes your senses, similar to the one you'd felt before. You squeeze your eyes shut, hands moving to hold your head. Scarred hands are on you immediately, holding you up against a strong body before your knees meet the ground. As the talons retreat from your mind, the pressure lessens and you take a few deep breaths before opening your eyes.

When you manage to blink away the wetness making your vision blurry, you find the High Lord looking at you with wide eyes, remorse clear on his face and his mate holding onto his arm.

“What did you do to her?” Azriel's voice was rough with barely restrained anger.

The High Lord ignores him, looking into your eyes as he explains with a notably softer tone than earlier, “There is something blocking your memories. When I tried to bypass it… It hurt you.”

“What does that mean?” Your voice was scratchy, a dull ache lingering in your head. You lean away from Azriel and sit back on the mattress. No use trying to act tough, you're truly at their mercy.

“It means I can't access your memories for the time being,” the change in his demeanor would give you whiplash if the pain you were feeling gave way long enough for you to focus on anything else, “I've never seen anything like this, there's no way of knowing what it can do to you.”

“I think your memories aren't only being blocked,” he's still speaking directly at you but you can't really wrap your mind around anything at the moment, letting them discuss amongst themselves. “They're being overwritten at the same time.”

“That's why she forgot Azriel but remembers her life at the guild?”

“I've never heard of anything like that,” Azriel's voice sounds further away, you almost want to reach out and pull him back to you.

“Me neither,” the High Lord admits, watching your crouched form warily. “We'll have to ask Amren and research it in the library but it's the only explanation.” You find yourself nodding, even if you don't know Amren you understand the ancient creature might be able to help, if she wants to that is.

“At least your mental walls are still intact. They're the same ones I taught you to build.”

“No, I learned at the guild,” you finally look up at him, sweat still covering your forehead.

“There's still an open channel, like an open door for me to be able to talk to you.” So I can do this. You can't help but jump slightly at the sound of his voice in your mind, and the promise of a smile twitches on his lips. It doesn't go unnoticed that the talons moved a lot more carefully in your mind, almost tenderly.

“You're staying in this house until we can be sure you're not a threat.” His eyes move to Azriel's, an unimpressed look taking over his face at the scowl the shadowsinger sends him. “In the meantime you can fill Azriel in on everything you can about the guild. I want to know if there's a chance they'll try to attack us again.”

“We'll try to find any information on what is blocking your memories and keep you safe from the guild in exchange,” the High Lady adds, “It's a fair trade for both parties.”

You can't tell if she's saying it to convince you or her mate but appreciate the sentiment nonetheless. Also noticing how she omits the biggest reason for this mutual cooperation - the shadowsinger standing by your side.

⋆｡°✩°｡⋆

His hair was still wet when he started dressing himself, not wanting to leave you waiting for too long, as much as he hated to admit it he wasn't too happy about leaving you with Feyre either. He can tell everyone is still suspicious of you, even after Rhys tried to read into her memories to find nothing, stuck between their memories and stories they heard about you and the image of you stabbing a knife through his stomach.

Azriel knows his High Lady, his friend, wouldn't hurt you, but you're in a complicated situation at the moment and he doesn't want to find out what that guild has taught you to do in cases such as these, doesn't even want to think what Feyre would do to stop you. She didn't know you before, meaning she wouldn't have any reason to hold back if not for his sake - something he knows she wouldn't put above saving Velaris, he would never ask that of her either.

It's hard to accept he doesn't know how you'll react in certain situations, there was a time he knew you better than he knew himself. Now, he can't even begin to understand what you must have been through working for a world known assassin guild.

He'd obviously heard about them before, he wouldn't be a decent Spymaster if he hadn't. There wasn't much information on them, no one knew how large the group even was since there were rumors other groups were actually integrated in the guild. Names for it vary as well.

Even if you hadn't tried to steal from his High Lord, he knows he'll have to try getting as much information about them from you as he can, for his court's sake, and he can only pray you'll give it to him willingly or he'll have to let go of his position.

He doesn't know how you've been able to bear the guilt a job like this brings. As much as you've forgotten, your personality didn't seem to change a lot. You always reminded him of Cassian at times like these, gratuitous killing had never been for you. He hopes you don't have to deal with the torment he had been through in the first decades of working for the former High Lord, his soul had never recovered from everything he'd seen and done during that time.

Noticing his shadows reach up his shoulders, he physically shakes the dark thoughts out of his brain. Everything has been going better than expected, not only did you agree to cooperate but Rhys had given you the benefit of the doubt. You also agreed to have dinner with him so you could talk more.

He just told you he'd be joining you for dinner, omitting how excited, downright giddy, he felt at just the idea. It had been so long since you two shared a meal, talking for hours while enjoying the tasty food the House prepared for you.

He couldn't recall the last time he'd been this nervous for an outing, even if it wasn't exactly that - it was simply a trip to one of the House of Wind's guest rooms. Going as far as picking clothes in your favorite colors on him, letting the top buttons on his shirt undone because he knows how much you liked seeing the beginnings of his swirling bargain marks.

All of this could be for nothing, you don't remember him after all, but, he was almost certain your body did in some way and it gave him hope. You calmed down in his arms just as you did a century ago, said his name in the same sweet cadence and never shied away from his touch, from his hands. His shadows told him as much. Sang to him about the way goosebumps rose in your skin at his touch and attentiveness, how your thoughts and intuition warred in his favor. He refused to let his thoughts deter him.

When he gets to the room he sees you and Feyre standing by the dresser, almost wanting to apologize for winnowing in instead of knocking first, but he can't seem to find any words as he sees you've changed as well, ditching the nightgown in favor of a sleeveless dress that went down to your knees. The cobalt blue was as striking against your skin as he remembered, the garment in itself was simple enough yet in his eyes you had never looked so stunning.

Feyre must have been the one to give you the dress, he was only surprised it had taken her so long to meddle in your relationship. If there were any doubts, they were quickly answered when she threw him a knowing smile before excusing herself from the room.

“I'm guessing the blue is supposed to match those gems you wear.”

“Siphons,” he offers, entranced by the way you walk closer to him, the silky fabric moving with your body and giving you an ethereal glow.

“Did I used to do that a lot?”

“Yes.” He observes the way your eyes run over his body, lingering on the unbuttoned shirt. Seems like his old tricks still work. “I always loved seeing you in blue.”

You tilt your head to the side slightly, biting the inside of your lip the way you always did. He tries to stand as still as possible without appearing too awkward, making sure you knew it was alright to do with him anything that crossed your pretty brain. You seem to make up your mind as you walk closer to him.

“Can I see them?” You hold up your palm and he holds his hand over it without hesitation, letting you grab onto his hand to study the glowing siphon. The swirling light shone in your eyes and he can't help but be reminded of the first time you asked him to do the same exact thing shortly after meeting him.

“All Illyrian warriors have them,” he explains, “They're used to help us control our powers.”

“It's beautiful.” He tries not to let his wings twitch as you now hold his hand with both of yours. “I don't think I've seen anything like this before.”

“You have,” he can't help the somber smile that crosses his face. The reminder makes you look away from his hand to watch him, a conflicted expression falling over your pretty face. “You always liked them.”

The abrupt change in the atmosphere has him asking the house to get the room ready for your dinner. Not being able to hide the smile as he watches your amazed expression at the table that pops up beside you, full of delicious looking food and decorated with candlesticks, the faelights around the room dim in favor of the candlelight.

“I only asked for the food,” he admits with a bashful expression. He's glad you can't tell that, aside from the candles, the plates were also some of the fanciest ones. The House was going all out for the two of you.

He uses the grip you had on his hand to guide you to the chair and help you sit before making his way to his own seat, settling down and giving order for the House to serve both of you. Letting himself enjoy every little expression you made as you eat and listening to anything you felt like telling him, also answering all your questions about the House and the food.

He knows this doesn't have the same meaning to you as it does to him, knows that, as much as you don't seem to hate his company, you're more interested in finding out more about the version of you in his memories, trying to make sense of your own identity. It's hard to imagine how this whole thing must feel for you, finding out half of your life was made up and that you forgot such an important part of it. Still, this must be the best night he's had in a century.

You set your elbows on the table and rest your face on your hands, watching him with undivided attention as he tells you about his sparring match with Cassian. Your eyes don't leave his face after he finishes, appearing lost in thought. He lets you gather them, relishing in the comfortable silence. He'd be content with simply watching you for eternity.

You let out a soft sigh and lean back against the chair, closing your eyes for a few seconds before meeting his gaze again.

“What happens if I never remember you, Azriel?” Your voice barely above a whisper.

The question and the uncertainty in your voice as you asked it make him pause. He keeps trying to push back the thought that you won't regain your memories but it seems you were having the same doubts.

Just last week, he wouldn't have believed having you back was even a possibility, so getting your memories back can't be out of reach, it just can't. He was ready to give his life to make it so.

Still, he witnessed how painful it had been for you when Rhys simply tried to access your memories, he'd also told him trying harder, forcefully, could break your mind completely. If their research doesn't go well, if they can't find who did this to you, there might not be another way of bringing your memories back.

But he'd sooner die than live another day without you, whether your memories come back or not.

“I'll make you fall for me again.”

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