#the stitches were barely visible

[pickledmickles]

me pointing at kakuzu in fanart and screaming at the top of my lungs

WHY IS HE WHITE

[a-sleepy-ginger]

1/6/24

❊✺❂✺❊

Sky was pretty

Toast

Peach flavour black tea

Gave the kitchen a good clean

Listened to all recent post bbc loona albums

[marzipanandminutiae]

here's a secret about actual Victorian gowns:

the interiors are usually messy as hell

raw edges on seams? finished with the absolute mimimum of work necessary to keep them from fraying into nonexistence. it's not going to touch the person's actual body, given the layers of corset-cover + corset + chemise/combinations in between, so it doesn't matter how it feels on bare skin. pinked and left raw? I've seen that, sure. whipstitched down to the bodice's structural flat-lining fabric? yep! I've seen VERY few bodices nicely lined so the innards don't show; that seems more common on capes, cloaks, and coats. you know, where the lining might end up being visible. because "will it be visible?" is the defining factor here

got a skirt you know will only be worn with an opaque overskirt? why bother making the whole thing out of that expensive silk? go ahead and make the covered part out of unbleached muslin- nobody will see it! (this was not universal, to be clear, but I have seen extant examples of the practice)

one of my museums has a Worth gown. couture! Parisian! guess how :) huge and gappy and messy :) the stitches holding the trim on look from the underside :)

undergarments and nightwear tend to have finished seams because they'll go next to the skin. they also tend to have visibly top-stitched machine hems, because the Hand-Sewn Hems rule only applied to garments that anyone outside the wearer's innermost circle would see. lingerie? machine-sew that hem! the poor underpaid piece-worker has a hundred more of these to make before her shift is over!

Victorians were the epitome of Work Smarter, Not Harder in their clothing, so don't feel like your recreations have to be perfectly finished unless it brings you joy to do it that way

[evilgwrl]

TF 141 x Reader (Apocalypse!AU)

Immune: Three

WARNING: This is a 18+ Poly!141 series (MDNI)

CW: Suggestive themes (smut is coming I promise)

I literally wrote a whole chapter and it deleted </3

Masterlist

You woke up, body slumped against the door as you groaned. The soft strum of pain vibrated through your lower back, the dull ache sending a small zap through you as you stood up.

Groggy eyes drifted to the stained window, the barely visible streak of sun peaking over the forest as you sighed, feet padding against the floors as soft creaks spoke back to you.

You stared in the mirror, dull eyes staring back. You rubbed your face, small streaks of sticky sleep dragging across your palms as you picked them off.

Mortification is all you could feel. Not only are four men in your house, but you touched yourself to one, and another walked in on you. MID ORGASM. You silently prayed they had packed up their stuff and left. Or maybe it never happened and Ghost hadn’t seen anything. Or maybe- fuck it. There wasn’t much use denying.

The chill of the water woke you up as you scrubbed vigorously, almost as if you could wash away the embarrassment you felt.

You dressed yourself before heading to the barn, the acreage becoming more and more visible by the minute as you fed the animals, collecting any eggs in your makeshift apron, before letting the horses roam in the paddock

You took note of the overcast, thick smog of clouds littering across the barely visible sky. You needed the rain, but you also knew it would make it harder for them to leave if it did.

Conjuring that it would make things easier if they woke up and you were gone, you cooked yourself breakfast before heading out, planning to target a small set of shops you were yet to raid, tucked away on a more secluded part of the area. In fear of waking them up, you rolled out the rusting bike from the garage, a small woven basket adorned with half broken flowers as you rolled the worn wheels onto the gravel road.

You didn’t take much with you. Only a bottle of water, a pistol (incase you magically needed it) and two apples as well the large backpack stitched on your back.

The trail was mostly flat, a few rocks causing you to wobble from time to time, but for the most part it was an enjoyable ride. The soft flicker of the sun stretched through the adorned trees, the heaviness of the clouds beginning to weigh on you as you peddled faster.

It was an hour or two trek, you believed, the roaring ache of your thighs begging for the needed break as you pulled into the abandoned town. Sometimes you expect people to run out, waving you down in celebration, but it never came.

You could hear the soft groans of nearby dead, wobbling their rotting limbs towards the bike before turning around. The tinkle of the rusted bell greeted you as you ducked through the aisles. It was a small store, only supplying anything for a couple hundred, most items expired now anyway, but it was worth a look.

You held your bag open, dumping a few cans of tinned vegetables in as well as a bag of sugar, a pack of razors and some long-life cartons of skim milk. With achy thighs, you jumped over the counter, mess everywhere, register half open with nothing inside. It was funny, even during an apocalypse people found the time for money.

You rattled at the metal knob on the staff door, growing frustrated when it wouldn’t budge before you began to kick, slamming your boots against it repeatedly before it eventually swung open. It might have taken you 15 minutes, but it was sure worth it as you snatched up the golden sweetness many would refer to as whiskey.

You headed off with a few other things, half open stock boxes tipped everywhere as your hands grabbed for anything that hadn’t expire, or was about to. With a heavier bag, and a smug smile on your face, you peddled your way home.

“Y’ think she got scared and buggered off?” Soap quipped, mouth half full with an apple, juices spurting across the room as Ghost glared back.

“If it wasn’t for him,” Gaz interjected, thumb pointing towards the masked-man, “she probably would have let us stay.”

Ghost rolled his eyes, replaying the scene in his head for the hundredth time. Sure, he should’ve knocked but he’s glad he didn’t. Half of him wanted her to ask him to stay, to fully satisfy her, to fully satisfy him.

“She wouldn’t have just packed up and left- put far too much effort into all this place to leave,” Price said, voice deeper than usual as he took a swig of water. Time ticked slowly as they waited around, searching every crevice of the house before they landed on a bow and arrow.

Soap snatched it, veiny hands clawing at the weapon as if it was gold. “What’dya say, LT? Fancy hunting some deer?”

“I ain’t hunting for anybody if I ain’t staying-“

“Go hunt a f’cking deer,” Price huffed.

The two me disappeared into the forest as Gaz stepped outside, bottom plonked in the barely comfortable porch chair. The Captain knew you would probably bitch them out, but a sick part of him wanted you to let them stay, wanted you to realise they were what you needed, that they magically landed on your farm for some Godforsaken purpose.

He would make you realise. He knew he would.

You felt like vomiting now, your bones burning as if they had clawed through your flesh, attempting to escape the treacherous journey that you forced yourself to endure.

You almost felt lost. Why did it feel so much longer on the way back?

You smiled to yourself softly as you passed the tree you marked a few months ago, the unmistakable smiley face almost greeting you. Your smile quickly faded when you felt a spit land on your cheek. And then another. And another. Until you were peddling faster as wet pellets hit the ground.

Slippery hands clutched the leather handles as you neared the entrance of the farm. You were drenched now, hair matted to your neck and face as you flicked it behind you, annoyed that you neglected your clip.

Your boots squelched against the ground as you slammed the garage door shut, weak arms clutching your bag as you swung it around your shoulder, weaving in and out of trees as you stumbled up the front steps.

Tumbling inside, you took note of the cleaner house, a small wrapped bowl of vegetables and a bowl of tomato soup (that was probably cold now) greeting you as you kicked off your boots. You stood over the sink as you scrunched your hair out, the trickle of water tapping as you shrugged off your coat, fumbling outside to hang it on the underground clothes line.

For a minute you thought they had left, no manly faces greeting you until you heard the soft clearing of a throat. “Made you some lunch,” he said.

“Thank you… Gaz, isn’t it?” Clammy hands gripped the bowls as you sat down on the couch, the lukewarm mixture sliding down your oesophagus.

“That’s right,” he replied, gentle smile adorning his face as he watched you, trying to observe you, almost as if you were a war criminal he wanted to break in. Military men, you thought.

You sat in silence, yet didn’t find it to be uncomfortable. Though Gaz was incredibly handsome, and well built, you almost felt comfortable in his presence and you couldn’t quite place why.

“Where did you go?” He asked, almost as if he was hesitant to speak. Your eyes flickered to his lap, hands gently rubbing together before rubbing against his denim-covered thighs. He has nice thighs.

“Uh, I went into a town.. bout two hours from here. Got a few things and I also just wanted to.. get out, I guess.”

He nodded.

Once you finished up, you braced yourself as you ran outside, yet found no horses frolicking frightened in the paddock. Fear ran through you as you sprinted to the barn, heavy footsteps slapping against the mud as you took in the closed door.

You let out a shaky sigh, relieved, when you saw two large, longer heads staring at you from inside, the gentle squawks of hens sounding across the room.

“I hope you don’t mind that I put them inside, figured you would hav’ done that anyway when you got back.” You jumped at the voice, body jolting as you snapped your head.

Price stood there, rough hands clutching a wooden broom as he swept, a beanie now plonked on his head instead of the hat he greeted you with.

“Uh- thanks. Yeah, they’re afraid of the rain.”

“Y’r a good owner, picking up the slack after they were abandoned.”

“I guess so,” you conceded. You looked at him, taking in the way his eyes flickered down your drenched frame, a cerulean blue darkening into a navy.

“Y’r wet.” His tone was sharp, even while stating the obvious, a visible clench of his jaw causing you to tense as you wobbled, suddenly nervous under his gaze.

“Well, I was out in the rain,” you said, almost like it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world. You looked away but could feel him walking closer to you.

“Y’r gonna catch a cold if you don’t change.”

“I’ll survive,” you replied, your voice now dropping to a low whisper. You looked at him, his stare heavy, almost like it was weighting you down. He smiled at you, a hand reaching out before it landed on the flesh of your waist, squeezing as you felt the familiar heat you encountered last night, prickling through you again.

Your breathing was shallow, an occasional hick passing through you as his hand lingered. “Pretty thing, hm?” He gestured, nodding towards your chest as you noticed the faint outline of the rose-coloured brassiere you chose today. You blushed and you were sure you looked silly, a red hue across your face as you barely stuttered a reply.

You turned, almost feeling like you were about to choke. Feeling betrayed by your own body, you pressed your thighs together and you were sure he noticed.

“Y’n need any help staying warm,” he began, “just tell me, sweetheart.”

[13uswntimagines]

Weight of the Sky (Alessia X Leah X Reader)

Summary: No one knew why you left the United States and stopped accepting call-ups to the senior team. Only the important people were informed that it had to do with your treatment by the coaching staff. But some reporter got ahold of the story, and a report that was never supposed to see the light of day. How do you deal with everyone suddenly knowing your deepest, most shameful secrets?

Warning: This fic deals with how people process trauma. There’s implied abuse, but nothing explicitly described or explained. Again, systemic abuse (physical, mental, and verbal) is what is dealt with in this fic, specifically how someone might deal with it (in healthy and unhealthy ways).

It wasn’t something you talked about. 

It wasn’t something you liked to think about. 

The people who were important to you knew something had happened. They knew why you stopped accepting call-ups to the senior USWNT a year ago, why you had fled the NWSL, and why you were so adamant about never stepping foot on American soil again. 

You didn’t feel the need to explain it to anyone else. To open the dark box you had buried so deeply so long ago. To rip apart the fragile stitches you so carefully constructed over your wounds. 

But as you stared down at the headline, it looked like you wouldn’t have a choice. 

Scandal set to dismantle US soccer: reports of rampant emotional, physical and sexual abuse at both the youth and senior level 

You didn’t want to read it. 

You wanted to shove your phone back in your bag and join your team out on the pitch like nothing had ever happened. 

It had worked for you so far. 

But the way your phone was buzzing told you that it wouldn’t work for you this time. 

That arriving late to practice so you had the locker room to yourself wouldn’t be the out you prayed it would. 

It was one of the best and worst qualities of the team you had left behind. Their stubbornness, especially when someone’s well-being was on the line. 

They wouldn’t give up when you had been the baby of the USWNT for so long with your first call-up coming at 16. 

It didn’t matter that you barely answered them most of the time now. 

With both you and Foxy playing for Arsenal, you knew that Alex, or Kelley, or Alyssa, or Becky were not above calling Kim or Jen to sort you out. 

To force you to face the thing you had run to Europe to escape 3 years ago. 

The things you had never told them about. 

“Have you read it yet?” You blinked up at the voice of your fellow American, as Emily sat down beside you.

“Just the headline,” You sighed, tossing your phone into your cubby and grabbing your cleats. “I’m pretty sure I already know what it’s going to say,”

You could feel her eyes on the side of your face, trying to peel back the impenetrable mask you always used to cover your emotions. You had known Emily long enough for her to be able to see past it. To decipher the barely visible tells littered across your features. 

You could feel the pity in her gaze, and it made you want to puke. You didn’t want it. You didn’t need it. 

“I didn’t know the details,” Emily said, her voice a pained whisper. 

It wasn’t that Emily hadn’t known about the abuse. She was your longest friend, one of the people who you had shared nearly all of your soccer experience with. She knew that things had happened, but you always breezed over it. You didn’t give out specifics. You didn't need to be viewed as one broken toy. 

You made a low noise of agreement. “That was by design,” 

She caught your arm, and you finally looked at her. 

“Y/n,”

Concern accented her blue eyes, and desperation lingered behind her irises. It was an unspoken question. 

A why that rang clearly. 

“It was better for everyone,” You muttered, finishing the knot on your boot and pulling the 2nd one up, answering the question she hadn’t asked with words. 

You knew she would have fought for you. She would have stood up to the people you had been too afraid to. It was safer if she didn’t know the full extent of what you had endured. If the complaint you had lodged was the only record of it. 

You wouldn’t put anyone in the firing line. Especially not her. 

“Did Leah and Alessia know?” She asked, so quietly you barely heard it. 

Or maybe it was just the blood pounding in your ears. 

You blinked at the question, looking away from the defender. 

Of course, your girlfriends knew, but they didn’t know. You had never gone into depth about your experiences in the youth system. You never detailed how it had followed you like ghosts until you couldn’t take it anymore. 

Until you broke under the pressure. 

It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to tell them. To let the words out during a million late-night chats over tea with Leah, or when you were so comfortable laid out in Alessia’s chest, her nails dragging up and down your back. 

They made you feel truly safe for the first time in your life. 

You didn’t want to give them a reason to not want you. To realize you were too… damaged to love. 

You cleared your throat, your cleats clicking in the concrete as it hit the floor. “You better get your boots on. We’re going to be late,” 

You didn’t wait for her response before you pushed yourself to a standing position, and headed out onto the field. 

You hadn’t spoken to your girlfriends since the article came out. You had spent a very rare night in your own apartment, ignoring their texts, and the calls that had followed. 

You were surprised they hadn’t staked out your apartment this morning, or been waiting for you when you arrived (admittedly late) to practice. 

You understood that you couldn’t ignore them forever. You didn’t want to. 

You just wanted enough time to gather your thoughts. Time to figure out how you were going to explain it all to them. You just wanted 3 hours of peace, before you would have to face reality.

Before you would have to finally deal with Pandora’s box. 

You snorted to yourself as you reached the locker room door. 

At least Pandora’s box had held hope with all of the bad things. Your box held nothing but pain and agony. Memories that had burned and sizzled the happiness you had finally regained. 

Experiences that were like bubbling acid, destroying everything they touched. 

You didn’t want them to destroy the word that you had rebuilt for yourself. 

You wanted to pretend for just a bit longer that you weren’t a poison that could only hurt the things you loved. 

Pretend like you weren’t about to lose everything. Like they hadn’t realized how… unworthy you were of them yet. 

*****

You felt eyes on you the second you stepped onto the pitch. Like tiny lasers, following your every step. Your every breath. Like they were waiting for you to break down. 

And for the most part, you ignored them. 

You painted your signature easy smirk across your lips and joined the midfield warmup line behind Kyra. It was also coincidentally the line furthest from your girlfriends. 

You focused on the drill, watching as Lia expertly weaved through the cones, the coaches passing her a ball every 3 cones to send into a mini-net. It was easy to let your mind sink into the familiarity of soccer. 

The field had always been your happy place, even when coaches were running you into the ground. It was a place where all that mattered was your skill. Your ability to ignore physical discomfort and pain to run circles around your teammates. 

It was why you lasted so long under Rory Dames, Paul Riley, and the rest of the USWNT coaches. They couldn’t break you on the pitch. Pain only fueled you. 

It’s what had driven them to… other methods. 

You pushed yourself through the line drills, forcing your legs to move faster, and your feet to take shorter touches, driving the pace of the midfield line higher and higher. 

“You know this is just warm up right?” Kyra panted as she made it through the final drill, both hands behind her head. “We still have an entire practice to go,” 

You shrugged, grabbing a water bottle and squirting a bit in your mouth as you waited for the other lines to finish. “Just feeling it today,” 

“Don’t feel it too hard though,” She said, side-eyeing you, trying to sound casual. “Pushing yourself won’t make it better,” 

You blinked at her, and the uncharacteristic seriousness in her voice. The young Australian was the last person you expected to read the article and then try to confront you about how you dealt with it all. 

“I’m fine,” You mumbled, squirting more water in your mouth. 

“Never said you weren’t,” Kyra said quickly, stealing the bottle from your hands, briefly glancing over your shoulder. “But you don’t have to be if you don’t want to be,”

You nodded stiffly. 

You knew that if you wanted to fall apart the team, and your girlfriends would be there for you. 

But you didn’t want to. 

It would make it real instead of just the bad dream you had convinced yourself it was. 

“I just want to play football,” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’m over everything else,” 

Kyra hummed, her serious look shifting into an impish grin as she flipped the bottle towards you and squirted you with water. “Heads up,” 

“Must you always be such a pest?”  Leah’s voice appeared behind you before you could think about what Kyra meant, her arms wrapping around your middle and her chin resting on your shoulder. “Hello darling,”

Shivers ran down your spine when her lips pressed into the sensitive spot just below your ear, and your body tensed unsure if it wanted to sink back into her or flinch away. Your skin crawled in a way that it never had in her embrace before. 

You shoved the feeling down. 

It was ridiculous. 

Uncalled for. 

Not real. 

“Hey,” You said, painting a smile on your face and forcing yourself to relax back into her familiar hold.“The forwards aren’t finished yet?” 

“They were on their last drill when we finished,” She said, loosening her grip so you could turn to face her. “Less will be happy to see you. She missed you last night,” 

You noted the worry lines on her forehead and the crinkle between her eyes. 

You forced your lips to quirk upward into a teasing smirk despite how heavy it felt. “Just her?” 

“You know better my love,” Leah hummed, her blue eyes searching your face and her thumbs running over the skin under your training top just above your waistband. “We were worried about you,”

You could hear the honesty, the concern in her voice. The unspoken questions lingering in the air between you. 

“I’m ok,” You said, meeting her eyes. 

It was the truth. Right now, with the pitch under your feet, you felt alright. 

You felt almost normal. 

She nodded once. “Ok,” 

You appreciated that she didn’t press you. Didn’t point out the obvious cracks in your perfect mask. 

You knew you wouldn’t be able to escape their probing later, but at least now she let you be. 

“You’re still coming home with us tonight?” She asked, her voice still soft, and you swallowed hard. 

Jonas blew the whistle just as the forwards finished their last line drill, calling the group to circle up before you could answer. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, gently extracting yourself from your girlfriend. 

“We should go,” You said, ignoring her question and the deep frown etched across her features. 

It should have bothered you how the knot in your chest loosened as you stepped out of her grasp. How your skin didn’t feel like it was on fire. 

Her and Alessia had always made you feel safe and it should have bothered you that Leah’s hands had reminded you of his. 

But you didn’t have time to be bothered. 

You pushed the feelings down again, forcing the lid on them shut. 

You hoped Jonas’ remarks would be short. That you could have the ball at your feet soon. That you could sink into the familiar peace soccer always brought you before any more emotions tried to force their way to the surface. 

A stupid article would not derail your practice. 

*****

You stayed at the edge of the group as Jonas explained the 3 on 3 drill he wanted you to do, watching his little whiteboard as he drew out the formations. 

It was easy to ignore the poorly concealed glances from your teammates (and Leah’s blatant staring). It was easy to force yourself to focus on the coach. 

It was easy to pretend your other girlfriend hadn’t edged her way over to you, her perfume surrounding you with the sense of peace you had been missing since the stupid article came out. Surrounding you like it had done since the two of you were at UNC together, and she was your anchor to reality, even when she didn’t know it. 

Alessia didn’t try to touch you, even as she leaned closer. 

“Be my partner?” She asked in a whisper, the words tickling your ear. 

You made a low noise of agreement, your fingers fidgeting at your sides. 

It felt like when you were in college again. 

Like every time you would come back from a national team camp, and have to reintegrate back into the team. How she would always inch over to you while Coach Dorrance explained drills. 

The two of you had been dancing around your feelings back then, and you had been convinced your heart and soul were too damaged to deserve someone like her. 

You thought her and Leah had finally unconvinced you. That they had finally washed away the feelings of hands you didn’t want and cracks that you feared could never be healed. 

You were wrong. 

When the news broke, you stared at the headline for hours. You were thankful that you had decided to spend the night alone for once. That your girlfriends were having a date night (something the three of you tried to do every once in a while) because the rush of uncleanliness that rushed over you and settled deep beneath your skin, leaching into your bones was unstoppable. It didn’t matter how raw you scrubbed your skin in the shower.

“Ready?” 

The nudge pulled you out of your thoughts, and you blinked at the blonde forward. 

You hadn’t realized that Jonas was finished, or that most of your teammates had already dispersed. 

“Oh, yeah,” You muttered, unsure of where you were supposed to go, or what you were supposed to do. 

Maybe you hadn’t been paying as much attention as you thought. 

Alessia’s lips tilted upwards, and she sent you a knowing smile. The one you hadn’t seen often since you were both in America. The one that used to greet you after bad camps and hard nights. 

“Come on then,” She nudged your arm with her shoulder again.“Steph’s our third,” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. 

Why hadn’t she picked Leah as your third?

She always picked Leah. 

You were the one who liked to play against your defender girlfriend. She was always physical, and it never failed to get you worked up. 

Alessia liked to play with Leah. Their banter always wound her up. 

You turned, glancing at the Australian defender already collecting a ball. Frankly, you were just thankful it wasn’t Emily. 

That would remind you too much of your time at UNC. 

“Alright,” You nodded, swallowing hard. 

You had no reason to feel this… off balance. 

No reason to be thinking about the things you had escaped. 

Alessia’s head tilted to the side, watching you. “We need to make sure we kick Leah’s ass. She’s got Viv and Lea. It’s unfair,”

You hummed again. 

This you could do. 

You let your brain slip into the safe place where all that mattered were tactics and the ball. The safe place where all that existed was the pitch, and none of the other noise mattered. 

“We’re faster, and we can outmaneuver them,” You mumbled, letting her guide you towards Steph. “It’s the team of Beth, Kyra, and Katie I’m more worried about honestly,”

While Leah, Lia, and Viv were tactically savvy, you knew you could outpace them. They were defensive-minded, and you were far more used to being an attacking midfielder than Lia was. You would use their defensiveness against them. 

Beth’s team was much more balanced. Though Katie liked to attack, she was a damn good defender. Kyra could absolutely play as a box-to-box midfielder and Beth was a lethal striker. 

Alessia made a noise of agreement, her hand gently resting on the small of your back. 

The comfort didn’t send pinpricks up your spine like you thought it would, but maybe that was because you were talking about soccer. 

Whatever the reason, you leaned into it, accepting the familiar comfort. 

Yeah, you could do this.

****

“It’s scary to see her like this,” Leah breathed out, glancing towards the door to the showers. 

You had waited until the rest of the team finished before you disappeared through the doors, with a promise from Leah and Alessia that they would keep everyone out. 

Emily and Lotte both joined in their vigil, forming a little circle of sorts with their chairs just outside the washroom.

Alessia sighed, running her hand through your hair. “Reminds me of our junior year,” 

That year had been brutal. 

The two of you were growing closer, edging past the line of friendship into something more. At least you had been until you attended the USWNT World Cup Qualifying tournament. 

After that, everything changed. 

You pulled away completely and looked like a ghost. 

Your eyes dulled from clear to a murky y/e/c like your soul had been ripped out. You were basically nonverbal by the end of the spring semester. It was all Emily, Lotte, and her could do to make sure you ate and got to practice on time. 

She didn’t want to go back to that. Ever. And she didn’t like how similar this felt. 

How easily you had retreated back into yourself and put all of your shields back into place. 

“The year Paul was an assistant for the senior team,” Emily nodded, sharing a meaningful look with Lotte and Alessia. 

Leah frowned.

She was clearly missing something.

“She would come back from National team duty and look like a shell,” Alessia explained gently. “We knew something was going on, but not what it was,” 

“Or how deep it went,” Lotte added, her eyebrows pinched together as she looked back at the door. 

Emily put a gentle hand on her back, rubbing soothing circles. 

“He was her coach for the U17 team too,” Leah said, phrasing it as a statement instead of a question. 

She had read the article, and the full report, unable to stop herself even as the words sliced into her heart like razor blades. It was line after line branding the horrors you had faced from age 13 into her mind, as the reporter described the abuse you and your teammates had endured in excruciating detail. 

The worst was the photo that he had included in the report. 

Three words were handwritten in font that was left on colorful sticky notes around your apartments, telling her and Alessia how much you loved them. Font that was on every card, every poem you wrote for them. 

Font that spelled out Help me, please. 

A plea that hadn’t been heard for years, until an anonymous source had sold the story to the New York Times. 

“Yes,” Emily agreed. “He used to push her so hard during practice and the things that would come out of his mouth were vulgar, but I didn’t know about the other stuff. She only told me they were extra film sessions to help with her game,” 

Leah snorted. “She told us they were tactics meetings, and that he would make her play games she couldn’t win. She never told us what the punishments were,”

“It was by design,” Emily said, using the same careful tone you had used earlier, shaking her head. “I don’t think she’s ever actually processed what happened. She was too busy trying to protect everyone else,”

“She was a child,” Alessia hissed. 

The article said you were 13. Just a kid. You shouldn’t have to protect anyone. They should have protected you. 

The system shouldn’t have failed. They shouldn’t have to deal with the catastrophic fallout. 

“So was I. So was Mal.” Emily bit back. “She didn’t want what was happening to her to happen to us, so she didn’t fucking tell us. We could have stopped it,”

Lotte held up her hands, telling both of them to calm down. “She buried her feelings so she didn’t have to face them,”

They weren’t angry at each other, she knew. They were both fixers and they couldn’t fix this. Just like they hadn’t been able to fix this while the four of you were in college. 

She was just surprised Leah hadn’t snapped yet either. She was the most protective over you, probably because it had taken you longer to fall for her than it had taken for you to fall for Less. 

“And now she doesn’t have a choice,” Leah said with an eerie sense of finality. Like the matter of fact bang of a gavel after a judge made a ruling. 

The stupid Times writer made it impossible for you to continue to ignore it. He made it impossible for you to outrun it. 

“She’s going to try to pretend it’s fine,” Emily sighed, meeting Leah’s eyes. There was something… haunted hiding in their depths that sent a shiver down Leah’s spine. 

“And then completely implode when she can't,” Lotte added, mirroring the haunted look behind Emily’s orbs. 

They had both seen you at your worst, and they feared they were about to get the sequel. 

Leah dragged her eyes from Emily to meet Alessia’s. 

They knew the struggle you had with your emotions, even the happy ones. The cycles you spent oscillating between locking everything inside and shaking in the shower because you couldn’t stop them from pouring out of you and you were afraid of what you would do. 

They all knew about it. 

They had all dealt with it at some point. 

“We’ll keep an eye on her,” Leah promised quietly, again meeting Alessia’s eyes. “She’s coming home with us, or we’re going home with her,”

“She will not be alone tonight,” Alessia agreed. “Or ever again,”

The three other women hummed, before a comfortable silence enveloped them, broken only by the sound of the shower. 

They didn’t have to wait long before the water stopped, and then it was only a few minutes before you came shuffling into the changing room, dressed in one of Alessia’s oversized hoodies and a pair of Leah’s sweatpants despite the warm temperatures outside. 

You looked small. Fragile.

Leah pushed herself to her feet the moment she saw you, only refraining from pulling you into her chest when Alessia placed a gentle hand on her arm. 

She learned in college that physical contact wasn’t always something you enjoyed when you felt this vulnerable. 

“Ready to go Darling?”

Your head bobbed, and you held your hand out for Alessia. 

Leah tried not to let it bother her that you had bypassed her. She knew it was just because you were familiar with how Alessia handled you when you were like this. You knew what to expect from her, while Leah’s reactions were more of a mystery. 

You didn’t want any surprises.

Not now. 

Not when you were feeling so vulnerable. 

Alessia took your hand and pulled herself to her feet, while Leah grabbed all 3 of your bags. 

“Lead the way then,” Leah sent you a very soft smile, gesturing with her free hand. 

Your head bobbed again, and you headed for the door, not even acknowledging Lotte or Emily. 

You didn’t have the mental capacity to address them anymore. Practice had taken all that you had, and you just hoped you could make it through the night with your girlfriends. 

You honestly just wanted to curl up in your bed and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist. 

Maybe they would let you for one more night. 

*****

Dinner had been… quiet. 

Frankly, most of their night had been quiet. 

An eerie silence seemed to settle over any space you were in, suffocating and heavy, unable to be broken even by a soft soccer game playing in the background. 

You seemed to be… sleepwalking in a way. 

Your eyes were open, but you were light years away, lost in exactly what thoughts they weren’t sure. 

This was much worse than when you were at UNC. 

But Alessia and Leah both resolved not to push you. 

They let you pull away from them both while you watched a random men’s game, cuddled into the far end of the couch. They didn’t press as you stared blankly at the screen, only chiming in when they directly asked you a question. 

With the way the night had gone, they weren’t entirely sure you would join them in bed, afraid you would choose to sleep in the guest room instead. Alessia knew if you did, they would be keeping watch outside the door in shifts. 

But you didn’t. 

You had crawled in between them, still dressed in sweats despite the high temperatures in the house. 

Things were again quiet while Alessia scrolled through her phone and Leah read her nightly chapter. You steered clear of touching either of them at first, glaring at the ceiling like it had personally offended you. 

Then you shifted. 

You rolled over slowly, pressing your face into Leah’s stomach. 

She lifted her book to give you space, carefully winding her fingers through your hair with her free hand. Her nails dragged along your scalp, and you were relieved at the familiar warmth and comfort that spread through your chest. 

You never wanted to associate her or Alessia with the feeling of him on your skin. 

It was easier with Alessia. 

She had been there to pick up the pieces after each camp. She had been on ground zero for the fallout. 

Leah hadn’t. 

You only knew Leah from the time you played against her. 

This was also different. 

It was like an army of souls you thought you defeated marching their way back through your mind, reigning old wounds, and ones you had so long pretended didn’t exist. They ripped apart the careful stitches you had used to pull yourself back together and pried open the covers you had placed on the things you could not face. 

This wasn’t a new wound. 

It was stupid that an article. Words. Had reopened the festering relics you thought you escaped. 

Leah turned the page above you, seemingly oblivious to the anguish pulsing through you with every heartbeat. 

But you knew she wasn’t oblivious. 

Her and Alessia had been watching you all day, trying to support you in their own ways. You knew they wanted to help. All you would have to do is ask. 

You made the decision before you could overthink it, rolling away from Leah and staring pointedly at the ceiling. 

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell you both about what happened,” You said, your voice far more shaky than you thought it would be, and you felt the women on either side of you pause. “I just didn’t know how. I’ve never really known how,”

You didn’t look at them. 

You knew that if you did, you wouldn’t be able to talk about it. The words would get caught in your throat, and just like all of the other times you tried, you would be rendered speechless. 

“We know,” Leah said, her book closing with a low thump. “We’re not upset with you,” 

“We just want to understand,” Alessia added, setting her phone down on the side table. “The things in that article. It went on for so long,” 

Her voice cracked, and part of you longed to turn over and pull her into your arms. To tell her that it wasn’t that bad. To pretend, just like you always had. 

You swallowed hard. You couldn’t do that. 

They knew the truth now, and there was no escaping it. 

“I didn’t know what to do. There’s not exactly a recourse for stuff like this in America,” You explained. You needed them to understand that it wasn’t that you hadn’t tried to stop it. 

It wasn’t that you liked it. 

You were just powerless. One of many cogs in an outdated machine. 

Leah shifted, sitting up and turning to face you, sitting crisscross on the bed, a deep frown etched across her features. “Even on the youth teams?”

You shook your head. 

There hadn’t been anything you could do until you got to the senior team. Until a certain forward recognized the signs and had been so… stubborn and unrelenting in her support. 

“Alex helped,” You sighed., picking at the edge of your sweatshirt sleeve. “She got me to do the report and had Coach Riley removed. Apparently, I wasn’t the first, nor the last,”

You owed a lot to Alex Morgan. More than you would ever be able to repay. She had been the only one to know the true extent of the damage the coach had done, and she fought for you when you couldn’t fight for yourself. 

It’s why you felt so guilty when you left the team. When you left her. 

“It’s why she visited so much in North Carolina,” She said, rather than asking as realization brushed across her features. “Not because she wanted you to play for Orlando,” 

“She was worried, and my Captain at the time,” You mumbled, unable to help the way your lips turned upwards slightly at the mention of the old fight between you and Alessia. The fights about Alex taking a 2-hour flight to visit every weekend. The fight you knew now was centered around jealousy and fear that Alex was trying to get you to leave her.

Leah’s eyebrows pulled more tightly together. “If Riley was gone, why did you stop accepting call-ups?” 

“Vlatko was a lot like Paul. And Roary,” Your nose scrunched at the mention of their names. They left a terrible taste in your mouth. “He doesn’t understand player health and wellbeing. He told me to play on torn tendons in my ankle or risk my spot,”

Leah’s frown deepened as she tried to understand the full extent of what you had endured. “So you gave your spot up,” 

You nodded once. 

Your greatest regret in this whole thing was that you had given up playing for your country. Given up the thing you dreamed about for your entire childhood. 

“I was too tired to fight him too. Especially when I found places and people where I didn't have to fight at all. People who treated me like an actual human, instead of a playing card to be toyed with,”

You finally met your girlfriend's eyes, the weight of your words. The weight of the choice you had made was not lost on either of them. 

“And you carried the weight of it all on your own,” Alessia said, shifting and laying a gentle hand on top of yours, effectively stopping you from unraveling the hem of your sweatshirt sleeve. 

You shrugged. Sometimes you felt like Atlas, forced to hold up the sky, but it was better than being forced to watch the people you loved hold it. 

“You don’t have to do this alone. We’re here to help, but we can’t if you hide things from us,” Leah said, joining Alessia's hand on top of yours. “So no more secrets, alright?”

You bit your lip, finally nodding. 

Old habits would die hard, but you had to try. 

For them. 

Alessia squeezed your hand, and you turned, rolling over so your face rested in its favorite hiding place against her chest, and Leah shifted to spoon you from behind. 

The smothering sadness around you disappeared, driven out by comfortable silence your girlfriend's breathing, and the feeling of them pressed against you. 

There was something else nagging at the back of your mind. 

Something else you hadn’t been ready to face yet. 

No more secrets, you reminded yourself. 

“Emma called me last night,” You admitted softly against Alessia's chest. “she wants to talk at the game against Chelsea,”

The coach had been very polite in her voicemail, leaving an apology you knew she didn’t owe you, and suggesting that the two of you have a chat. 

Leah hummed behind you, lips brushing your ear. “Do you want to talk to her?” 

“She’s probably going to try to convince me to play for the US again,” You said, ignoring the question she asked you. 

“And do you want that?” Alessia prompted again. 

Your shoulders lifted and fell helplessly.“If anyone could convince me, it would be her,” 

“That didn’t answer the question sweet one,” Leah said again, pinching your side. 

You made a low noise, finally pulling your face out of its favorite hiding place. 

You knew what your answer was, and you knew that Alessia and Leah would support you. 

They would help you hold up the weight of the sky, and it would all be ok because you would do it together. 

Article and all. 

[dannyphantom-zero]

Doctor Danny chapter 2

Danny weighed his current options. As a civilians he could just walk away and pretend he never saw anything. But as a doctor with very strong morals, he couldn't leave a man to bleed out in some unsterile alleyway.

He wondered for a brief second how future him would feel about this, probably frustrated, still Danny picked up the very unstable patient and laid him in the backseat secured by seatbelts.

He wanted to take his to a hospital but he knew this patient wouldn't consent even if he could which he couldn't right now because he was unconscious.

Danny decided to respect the vigilante to the best of his ability. After parking the car he scooped up the vigilante bridal style and turned invisible.

He flew up to his apartment and went intangible, making it so he could safely pass through the wall.

As soon as he laid the patient on the floor he realized something needed to be done about his "research", he couldn't let the vigilante see it and start questioning it. So he opted for turning the cork board around.

It was regrettable that he couldn't put the guy on a proper bed but he didn't have one himself so there wasn't much he could do in that regard.

Danny peeled off the blood soaked clothes. He hated it when he had to cut clothes but in this case it was the only way to see the wound better.

It seemed like some kind of jagged weopen had made deep gashes to his abdomen.

He got to work cleaning the wound, despite how much he had bled before the seriousness of the injury seemed to be exaggerated by the mount of blood Danny saw at first glance. It looked completely treatable.

"There seems to be a deep puncture wound near the aorta, thankfully it didn't hit it" Danny muttered to himself.

"There a slight abrasion on the abdomen over the inferior mesenteric but not deep enough to cause any real damage. He would be fine after getting some stitches"

Danny really wanted to do this at the hospital, it would be so much better but he really didn't want to be watched all the time because he knows the vigilantes identity.

Gathering all his courage Danny grabbed his tools. He was hoping the unconscious vigilante wouldn't wake up during this. Danny could administer anesthesia but he was a licensed anesthesiologist. He also didn't have any anesthesia.

Well, most people didn't use anesthesia for stitches anyway, but he didn't have the numbing shots either. The most he could offer of his patients woke up is some pain killers and towel to bite on.

Danny decided to use absorbable sutures, a type of dissolvable stitches.

"Alright now, please don't wake up" Danny pleaded in a whisper.

He began stitching up the wounds. Because he was a vigilante, Danny had a bunch he wouldn't stop just because he was injured, Danny would have to put in extra stitches in case he tears the other ones.

Danny finished and sighed in relief. The man was still asleep.

He picked up the bloody towels and set out a clean shirt pair of clothes for the man. The man's pants were also stained with blood.

Danny left the apartment for a few seconds to get food. He was trying to be polite, he never really had guests so of the man was hungry he wanted to be ready.

Jason opened his eyes slowly. His entire body felt sore. His hand went up to his face only to feel a hard metal. His helmet. He pulled off the helmet and took a big gasp of fresh air.

The helmet must've shut off and stopped ventilating.

Jason scanned the surroundings. It looked like a small apartment, it was almost bare, not even a bed, on fact Jason just realized he woke up on the floor.

Well, at least there was a blanket beneath him. He was restrained on any way he could see, there weren't any visible surveillance devices either.

Jason sat up and felt the wounds to see how bad they were when his hand grazed a bandage. It was tight but comfortable, like a pro.

Jason peeked beneath the wrappings to find stitches.

"Why?" Jason asked himself in bewilderment. Who in their right mind would go through all the trouble.

Jason heard a sound from around the corner of the room he was in. It sounded like the door was opening.

Jason braced himself. Danny walked in carrying two bags, one with two steaks and the other with a case of beer. He didn't make it a habit to drink but he knew that the beer could be an olive branch.

There was just one problem, how would he eat with his helmet on. Maybe Danny could wrap up the food for the vigilante after he is done cooking it so he could eat in peace.

At least that was the plan. Danny almost shrieked when he saw the vague outline of a man's head.

HE TOOK OFF HIS HELMET!

Danny closed his eyes tight and blindly made his way to kitchen tripping in the process.

Jason had been expecting some thug, what he got was this. A healthy man.

He watched as Danny fumbled around trying not to look at Jason's face. He decided enough was enough when he heard a loud 'thump' followed by a silent "fuck~".

Jason put his helmet on and made his way to where Danny was. Danny stood up.

"Sorry, I wasn't expecting that" Danny said.

"Who are you?"

Danny didn't answer.

"I'm a doctor"

Jason felt a little frustrated, he was asking for a name.

"Im trying my best to stay out of your way, I only helped you because you were bleeding out in an alleyway and as a doctor I couldn't ignore that"

"And your making food because?"

Danny grew red.

"I'm hungry" Danny said.

"That's a lot of food for one person"

"I figured you would need something to eat, I was going to wrap it up for you"

"No need I'll eat here-"

"NO!"

Jason almost flinched.

"Sorry, I just, if you take off your helmet and I see you, then you'll be watching me so I don't tell anyone who you are. I don't have time for that"

Jason was even more intrigued. This guy acted like he was a vigilante.

"You seem familiar with this kind of stuff"

Danny shook his head.

"No, not really"

Danny started cooking the steaks.

"If you want to take off your helmet you can go to the next room. I'll let you know when the foods done."

"Alright" Jason said numbly before slipping out of the room. The only other room was the one he woke up in and the bathroom. So naturally he started snooping.

Not that there was much to find.

"It's ready!"  Jason bumped into a wall in surprise and knocked a cork board off the wall.

"Shit!" Jason said as he picked it up. He felt something on the other side. Jason flipped it around and laid it on the table.

It seemed like this person was gathering Intel on the biggest crooks in Gotham, he even knew who was "compromised".

"Is that...me?"

There was a picture of Jason that he had never seen before, it was of himself standing on a rooftop.

"I look kinda like Batman" Jason thought for a second.

"I'm coming in" Danny announced. Jason scrambled to put on his helmet but he wasn't able to return the cork board in time.

"Oh no" Danny said setting down the food before he took the cork board he checked it over making sure everything was intact.

"This is just research so I can better understand my patients, It's nothing weird"

Jason put up his hands.

"I don't think it's weird that you have a crock board full of pictures, especially mine. Nope, that not weird"

Danny let out an exhausted laugh.

"Yeah I had to pay for that one, it just reminded me of someone, not that it matters"

"What, did it remind you of Batman?"

"Ha, no. You looked lonely but free, I- know someone who can relate to that"

"Lonely but free" Jason muttered.

"Anyways here" Danny said holding the food out to Jason.

"I hope we never meet again, in a good way"

Jason grinned beneath the helmet.

"I hope we do" he opened the window.

"See you later Doctor" he said waving before leaping gracefully out of the window, food in hand.

"Wait what?" Danny asked.

"Do not!" Danny shouted out the window.

"Do not come back!"

Jason shook his head, there was no way he was going to leave him alone, call it curiosity but Danny wasn't different from most Gothamites.

And he wanted to know more about him. Danny's reluctance to know Jason made him want to get closer even more.

Danny sighed, there was no way he could shake a vigilante off his trail. He just hoped Jason didn't interrupt his work or his research.

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

NO BUT I NEED SATORU AND SUKUNA INSIDE OF ME RIGHT NEEOOOWWWWW I CAN TAKE THEM.BOTH!!!!!

❝ Darling, won't you just plead, or should I begin to bleed? ❞

Heian Era!Sukuna Ryomen x ftm!reader x Heian Era!Gojo Satoru | alternate universe, NSFW | sub. bottom. reader (AFAB) | NOT PROOFREAD | wc: 5.4

warnings: mentions of murder, dub. con (Gojo Satoru), power imbalance, size difference, threesome, fingering, handjobs, blowjobs, anal sex, spit roasting, triple penetration, tummy bulging, improper use of RCT , marking, possessive sex, degradation, one of Sukuna's cock gets bigger out of spite, unrealistic amounts of cum, AFAB terminology (reader's genitals are referred to with cock, dick, hole, boycunt, boypussy, clit)

“Call off your dog, Sukuna,” he snarls. Sukuna’s grin stretches obscenely and he throws his head back to laugh. Satoru hopes to have hurt your ego — from the tall tales he’s heard of (Y/N), you were known to have a haughty air about you. Satoru is sorely disappointed as he hears you chuckling along with Sukuna. In any other situation, the sweet sounds of your laughter would’ve made his heart flutter. But it’s mixed with Sukuna’s cackling so intricately he shudders at the very thought.

“Come, dog.”

authors note: heed the warnings!!! * YN is described as having long hair because of the heian beauty standard (hair colour and texture not mentioned)!

When the sun sets over the horizon and tucks itself past the peaks of those great mountains, it isn’t unusual for the sounds of burning to follow. Little slivers of suns swaying on top of wax or dancing across oil. Naturally, the burning comes with smoke. Casual tantalizing curls emitting from the evershifting flame; make you wonder if the sun steams and smokes.

Does it stay in the darkness, its company being the dancers of its creation swirling with it to the crackling of its flames? Afterall, if the sun is the king of flames, it would make sense that he has his own concubines.

Your eyes pull away from the sprouts of candles at the edge of the throne. Leaning your head back, you now gaze up at the king of curses as he breathes in the flavourful, addictive, smoke from the burning tobacco and exhales it into the air. He swallows the ghostly concubines. Stealing another king’s treasure. It was like him; he was the true king, after all.

Sukuna pays you no mind. He had called you to lounge with him, had Uruame prepare you for a night of passion despite not yet touching you. He had simply tapped his lap and you filled out the space by cushioning your head on his big thigh.

He’s dressed in auspiciously white garments, the expensive material has you wondering what’s in store for the both of you. The King of Curses does not need primping. Even so, he is dressed loosely. The mouth on his stomach is visible and one of his sleeves threatens to fall from his shoulder. The hand holding the smoke pipe allows itself to be pushed while the lower pair holds onto your hips. He stares down at you, his four eyes glinting silently in question. You’re practically kneeling on his lap and you barely reach the bottom half of his lips.

“Do you recall how many people I’ve killed for their insolence?” his tone is drawled out, a tinge of amusement hidden behind the baritones. “Yes, my King. I’ve always enjoyed watching you destroy them,” your hands curl around the bulging muscles of his chest and you trace up the tattoos he has to reach his shoulders.

Sukuna takes you in. Uruame had outdone themselves. You’re dressed in his favourite colours. Nothing too restrictive, the layers were enough to entice but not to invoke annoyance. Japanese politeness and grace are interwoven into every stitch despite your less-than-innocent gaze. You’ve always had the prettiest eyes; he remembers jesting that he’d pluck them out to put into a jar just so he could see them every day. They trial the shape of your lips, painted with the shades of flower petals that bloom in the light of the heavens; he thinks the irony is all the more poetic.

Your mouth and heaven do not go hand-in-hand. It’s pure sin. From that wicked, silver, tongue to your saccharine-sweet smile to that spine-shivering laugh.

You were hell-born. Just like he was.

Gently, you slip your digits under the fabric of his shoulder and he watches you and your actions impassively. Four eyes give him more room to admire you with, whatever part of you. He imagines you mean to smooth out the — imaginary — wrinkles as your palm slips up and down his broad shoulders. Your touching earns a firm squeeze to your hips, his hands are so large they cover the entirety of your back. And when they squeeze it makes your eyes flutter. He could snap you in half with just one hand. Barely use any of his strength — Sukuna could kill you as an afterthought, toss your beautiful body aside, and never think of you again.

But he doesn’t.

“You are getting impatient, boy.” The hand on his chest could feel that rumbling. Your throne — his lap — moves and you let yourself be placed according to his will. Sukuna sets you back on his lap and splays you out with a look. You stretch out on him — if you were a cat your tail would’ve curled coyly into the air just under his chin.

“It is late, Your Grace.”

The only lights left were from the candles and pools of oil ignited.

“You are passion and flame and I’ve been prepared for you to alight.”

He thinks your flowery words are adorable but unneeded. Sukuna props his face on his knuckles as he gazes down at your exposed legs. They’re practically glowing and the scent of oil entices his cocks. The mouth on his stomach splits and his tongue curls over the teeth there - you giggle at the sight.

“You want me to fuck you,” he smirks sharply, “and I am telling you to wait, brat.”

“For what?” You prop yourself on your elbows, brows pinched. “The servant that prepared me has his head tossed into a hole and yet I can still feel his little prick inside of me.”

Taking Ryomen Sukuna’s cocks was not an easy feat. For the common man, a few fingers and oil would do. For a beast that is your king, a generous pour of oil and a man pumped with herb aphrodisiacs was needed. None of the men would ever reach completion and neither did you — Sukuna would not allow it.

They would fuck you but once Uruame felt that you were stretched enough to gape, they’d pull the man away and bring him to the courtyard. A hole would be dug and the naked man would be beheaded. His penis was tossed in there to be buried and forgotten. No one should live to tell the tale of preparing Sukuna’s precious concubine. They should be honoured they were chosen but they’ll never be seen again. Those poor bastards. At least they were useful before they died.

Mirth sparks in his eyes.

“I spoil you,” and at that, you bashfully turn away. “I deserve to be spoiled.”

A greeting comes from across the long hall. The servants next to the doors rise from their bowed positions and it slides open to reveal Uruame and a man touched by frost behind them. Uruame is kneeling, and the man is not.

“Your Grace,” Uruame bows deeper.

“The head of the Gojo clan, Gojo Satoru. As you requested.”

His skin was pale and his hair paler. You’re certain if the sun rose he’d turn all but translucent. The flicker from the candles attempts to cast shadows across his small face but they cannot darken those sky-blue eyes. Uruame had announced he was from the Gojo clan but, you’ve only ever seen such blue eyes from white men — he doesn’t appear to have been sired by one. You doubt they’d even let the head of their clan be of a mixed race.

Gojo Satoru is a freak of nature. He is a curse in the shape of a man.

“Does he not know how to bow?” Your purring tone is gone. It’s cold as Uruame’s technique. Sukuna eases it back with a deliberate squint of his eye.

“Bring him in. Then leave, Uruame.” They bow deeper (if that was even possible) and after Satoru steps through, Uruame is hidden by the sliding doors once again.

“Have you reconsidered my offer, sorcerer?” Satoru’s brows are furrowed, and his long sleeves hide his hands but from the flex of his shoulders you know they are clenched.

Rising from your throne you make your down the platform. Every step exposes your delicious thighs and legs and it is so indecent it makes Satoru’s ire falter. The sleeves of your outfit drag onto the floor and it weighs down the fabric around your shoulder; your neck and your clavicle down to the whisper of your chest has Satoru’s ears blush.

You walk in a half-circle to his right, your eyes set into a glare that disappears as slips from his eyesight. Satoru knows he should not let you get behind him but turning his head away from Sukuna seems more damning. Sukuna says nothing of your less-than-inviting nature, his silence prompting Satoru to speak. “To serve you or die?” he scowls. “The Gojo clan will not serve you, Ryomen Sukuna.” Sukuna sighs, placing his smoke pipe down as he frowns. “So you have come all the way here to waste my time and to die. So typical of you sorcerers.”

“If you wish for my clan to serve you, we require more than empty promises.” Satoru’s tone was akin to the sound of the first arrow whistling through the wind, the growl he let out being the twang of the released drawstring. Regret beads down the back of his neck as he feels the sharp edge of a curved dagger pressed against the hill of his throat.

“You ask my king to fulfill wishes? Do you think him a genie?” the shape of his teeth familiarizes themselves as his jaw clenches. The blade is a cursed object, it mewls and groans faintly; the opal colour breathing as it soaks in his blood.

“Call off your dog, Sukuna,” he snarls. Sukuna’s grin stretches obscenely and he throws his head back to laugh. Satoru hopes to have hurt your ego — from the tall tales he’s heard of (Y/N), you were known to have a haughty air about you. Satoru is sorely disappointed as he hears you chuckling along with Sukuna. In any other situation, the sweet sounds of your laughter would’ve made his heart flutter. But it’s mixed with Sukuna’s cackling so intricately he shudders at the very thought.

“Come, dog.”

With a curl of a finger, Satoru is able to breathe. You make your way to Sukuna, kneeling as you reach the top of the platform and crawl right onto his lap. The dagger slipped under the fabric around your waist.

“You are certainly an arrogant man, sorcerer. Your haughty clans fail to have taught you any diplomatic manners.”

“Diplomatic?” Satoru barks out a laugh. You narrow your eyes, bemused. “You’re a tyrant, King of Curses! The villages you’ve burned to the ground, the clans you’ve wiped out! Diplomacy? You’re taking the piss!”

Sukuna spots the curls of your lips and when glance up at him, he concurs that you do deserve to be spoiled because the two of you share the same thoughts.

This Satoru, this stubborn man; he would make a fine collection for both of you if he could survive a night.

“You require more than my word to serve me? Very well.” The nudging from your side earns him a purr and with your back turned to Satoru, you shed the fabrics. Blue eyes watch in confusion as they watch you kneel and push away the clothes from Sukuna’s shoulder.

“My darling dog has been hungry. He’s insatiable, every part of him.” One of his hands holds your chin and turns it so Satoru has a clear view of your side profile with your lips pushed forward.

“From his painted lips.”

Another hand slips down the waist of your outfit and it gives way to show the small of your back. Nearly the entirety of your back is marked from Sukuna’s lips, teeth, nails, and hands like a canvas of artwork.

“To his tight holes. You cannot see it, sorcerer, but he is clenching around the tip of my finger. Hungry.”

The hilt of your dagger is askew but neither paid it any mind. There’s more rustling and you’re almost completely naked as you obediently let yourself be displayed.

“Ah!” The wet squelch of a tongue makes your back straighten and your fingers spasm as they tighten their hold on Sukuna’s robes.

“His useless cock is already leaking.”

“What are you asking of me, Sukuna?” Satoru speaks through gritted teeth. But his skin is so pale it betrays his weak resolve. Those reddened cheeks and ears, the racing heartbeat; Sukuna doesn’t need four eyes to know that Satoru’s dick was interested in whatever is being offered.

“Fuck my darling boy and your family will not be cursed by me while they serve me, Satoru.”

“W — What?” he sputters. Meanwhile, you’re all but melting as the sounds continue. He sees your ass trembling as your expression melts in pleasure.

Sukuna arches a pointed brow as his hand tugs the clothes of your body and it flutters onto the ground in a fancy display. There you are. Naked as the day you were born. Satoru should look away; but how does one pull their sights away from a body carved by the devil? Angelic in all the wrong ways, temptation sticks to your skin like perfume and Satoru is not a saint but he feels as though a single touch would damn him. In fact, just looking at you is dangerous.

“Are you a virgin? Or is my concubine not to your taste?”

Your nail digs through Sukuna’s shoulder. So his large tongue sweeps below your drenched cunt to soothe your irritation.

“I warn you to answer that question with caution, Gojo Satoru,” you hiss out.

“Perhaps he’s not a fan of men,” Sukuna reasons. “Common men perhaps. Are you calling me common, My King?” the squelching sound of your nails digging in makes streams of crimson slip down Sukuna’s skin and the sight of it has Satoru gasping (again).

“Put your claws away, boy. As if I would sink my cock into a common man. No, I take you like a proper bitch. This body may be different, but this tight hole?”

Satoru watches a tongue appear from Sukuna’s palm. The pink muscle pushes in and the rim of your asshole easily gives in, back arching further to assist. "And this?" Satoru sees the dexterous muscle from his stomach curl. A tongue larger than any he's ever seen, squirming its way inside of you from the front, and it makes you gasp airily in pleasure as it eagerly wriggles deeper.

“A body made to be fucked, to be left leaking with cum for days. And it is rare, Satoru, for it to leak with cum that isn’t mine.”

Satoru takes a tentative step back, shame coursing through him as he tears his eyes down.

“This is — This is dishonorable — “

“If you walk through that door, Satoru, you’ve sealed the fate of your clan to be erased forever.”

You moan as his tongue grows longer and those bloody fingers wrap around Sukuna’s thick neck. The mask on Sukuna’s face, the eyes on it, narrow the tiniest bit.

“And you’d offend my concubine greatly. He’ll enjoy murdering each and every one of your clan members for the disrespect.”

The candles shudder as the wind blows through the slits of the wood. It causes the flames to dance and the shame Satoru is experiencing to be swallowed down. He is frozen there for a moment, your sighs of pleasure like a siren call to hell. Sukuna’s great tongue hides behind a row of teeth, the grin most likely identical to the one he wears on his face, as Satoru approaches the steps of the platform.

“Come, Gojo Satoru.”

Climbing up the stairs was akin to walking to the gates of hell. Satoru can see the sheen of sweat on the back of your neck. He wonders if every part of tastes like heaven. Your tears, your slick, your sweat, your cum, your blood. Without even laying your hand on him once and you've already destroyed him, (Y/N).

"Kneel." Sukuna's words are a vow. An agreement. If Satoru's knees had settled onto the wooden floor, he'd have sealed the fate of his entire clan to serve under Ryomen Sukuna. His pupils quake, taking a sharp intake of breath as he tries to steady his heart.

Your hands invade his vision. The palms of Sukuna's concubine are soaked in crimson — was that why they were so soft? Your nails still have Sukuna's blood and the feeling makes spiders crawl up his spine.

"Gooseflesh rippling?" You whisper as your naked body finally earns his focus. You're in a puddle of your clothes, kneeling before him. Tilting your head, you surge upwards and press your forehead with his. His eyes may be haunting but yours are unforgettable.

It reminds him of the first time he'd ever peered into the darkness of the woods behind his clan's estate. How the light never reaches past the woodline. The silence. The way his brain made up shapes and faces and beings and curses and you.

In that memory, there you are. Between the mighty trees, what little light did reach you making your eyes reflect it back; as if you didn't have a soul yourself and all you can do is pretend.

"Kneel, boy." You say and Satoru's knees buckle.

The thud that resounds was final. Your grin is terrifying. Sukuna looms over your shoulder and his eyes are glowing with excitement.

Gojo Satoru had made a deal with two devils.

"Good sorcerer," your face comes closer and your lips acquaintances themselves with his. They're pillowy and soft. Blood rushes south despite Satoru's conflicted feelings. If he pretends you're not who you are, perhaps he can delude himself into thinking you're someone he loved; a man he wishes to devour; Violet eyes, black hair, upturned eyes with a voice that'd make angels sigh.

That image disappears as he feels your fingers wrap around his throat. You say nothing. But the second Satoru's eyes shoot open, he sees the unamused expression on your face.

"Now, don't get yourself killed so early on in the night, Satoru," Sukuna muses out. His lower hand reaches to grasp the nape of your neck and it squeezes hard enough for Satoru to hear your bones wheeze under pressure.

"Come here, darling." You turn away with a huff.

Satoru doesn't know what to do with himself so he is content to watch as you undress Sukuna. The King of Curses watches, enraptured by your movement as his torso is now bare of anything. The mouth on his stomach, that monstrous tongue, wets your chest and you simply shudder but continue your task.

"My concubine can be rather pouty when he isn't paid attention to. Best to not let your mind wander, Satoru."

You scowl, bending over to mouth at Sukuna's crotch as he holds the back of your head. The sight of your dripping cunt and ass has Satoru's cock rising to attention.

"How dare he even do so. I'll slice his cock off," Sukuna thinks the sight would be amusing but he simply guides your head lower.

There were rumours of Ryomen Sukuna's endowment.

If he had another pair of everything, did that mean his cock was the same?

Satoru wonders how you aren't split in half as he sees Sukuna's cocks twitching in your grasp. They're thick and heavy, bumping into each other as they perk up from your attention. The tip of it is nearly bright red, angry, and demanding a hole to sink into. The veins on it must make you keen often because you tongue at them with a pleased grin.

"Satoru." He tears his eyes away from the sight. Sukuna smiles at him, ignoring your pleased groans as you take the tip of his cock in your mouth while your hand strokes over the other.

"Feast, Satoru."

The command is so simple yet so vague. Satoru can't quite comprehend it. So he stares at Sukuna then at you, kneeling before your King with the most obscene noises coming from your mouth. There was no way the phallus could even comfortably rest on your tongue, each the length of your face and as thick as your wrist.

It must be uncomfortable. He must have other concubines for this exact reason. There was simply no way you alone could please him.

Your head rises from between your shoulders, and a long stroke from the base to the tip of his cock has Sukuna exhaling through his nose; he sees you bob up and then down. A minute gagging noise slips through but then you widen your knees and somehow you dip your head low.

"That's it, darling. Take your fill."

He wasn't lying when he said you were greedy. Satoru pushes himself to stand and Sukuna would usually kill men for not bowing their heads to the floor but he wants to see what the white-haired man intends to do.

Cheeks sucked in, eyebrows sloped delicately as your jaw strains to keep itself intact. Sukuna is well-endowed, big, humongous, huge — whatever other synonym you'd use to describe big cock(s). You feel someone move your bangs out of the way.

"He's halfway down..." Satoru had seen a lot in his life. From the fantastical curse techniques of other sorcerers to the nightmare-inducing curses, the wealth from his clan members also assists the opulence he's known since birth. The whores his uncles had given to him as a gift for his birthday — the array of positions they knew, of how willing they were to do whatever he asked with a grin even if it involved humiliating themselves or him.

But he'd never seen a man as handsome as you take such a monstrous dick in his mouth with no effort. The stretch of your lips, the smear of the red pigment around it, and on Sukuna's cock.

"Beautiful, isn't he?" Sukuna boasts. "Usually, the other concubines look like fishes speared on a pike when they take me into their mouths." Your eyes open in a glare and Satoru placates it by stroking your temple with his thumb.

"Not even a mention?" Satoru's inquiry earns a chuckle from Sukuna. "No. He will not allow it, if I wasn't so far down his mouth I'm sure he would've pulled away to complain." The hand on your head is not Sukuna's but it holds you firmly in place.

"How do you even fuck the other concubines?" Satoru wonders.

"(Y/N) usually slaughters them a week after I've brought them in." Satoru's shock weakens his hold, so you pull away with a cough and frown deeply up at the two men.

"I do not slaughter them! They just so happened to have ill-fated ends." You squeeze his cock one more time before turning your attention to his lower half, kissing it sweetly on its head before smearing his precum all over your lips, the smell of it making your cheeks warmer than it already was.

Truly, (Y/N). You didn't need to play this part of a proper highborn so astutely. Even if you beheaded the last concubine he had in front of him instead of summoning a curse to slam into it, resulting in the palanquin and the concubine within it along with her attending ladies being thrown off a cliff and mangled beyond words; he wouldn't have punished you.

It was your right to exorcise whoever you needed to so long as it didn't interfere with Sukuna's will. It pleased him to make you bridled with rage to result in murder, why wouldn't it? The blood that painted you from your head to your toes. It cannot all be his doing.

His dearest concubine, you mustn't get queasy so quickly. Show him the lines you'll cross to ensure he remains yours. Kill whoever you please, maim the sorcerers who take him away from you, burn down villages, and bask in their cries and their pain with him.

Hide your giggles behind your silk sleeves if you must but don't you dare hide your amusement of carnage from him; command curses to tear men apart and slice women to shreds. Everything is yours, (Y/N). Everything you wish for, everything you ask for, everything you need, and everything you didn't even think you required.

The world is yours.

"Of course," he grins and the tongue from his stomach reaches out to lick your cheek.

"Astonishing," Satoru mutters. Concubines killing each other aren't anything new though he sincerely doubts the others truly understood what they were getting into when they became Sukuna's. "Thank you," you reply after combing your hair back to take his other cock in your mouth.

Satoru feels overdressed and Sukuna was not in the business of doing that task for him. So he sheds his layers, the symbols of crane wings embroidered in the sleeves shimmer gloriously up at him. Satoru folds them over to hide it.

He will need to forget about everything else tonight. If he wishes to remain sane or tolerate the both of you — he will use his other head to guide him.

"Milky skin." You purr from Sukuna's lap. "Pale as the moon. Eyes as blue as the sky. I would kill you if you lived in this palace."

Satoru scoffs, standing with his cock twitching in the cool breeze.

"How fortunate for the both of us that I don't live here then." He hisses as your grasp onto his semi-hard dick.

"Even the hairs here are white. What a pretty cock." The feeling of your velvet tongue on his tip makes his breath shudder. It's nowhere close to Sukuna's length —or girth —but that doesn't cause him disappointment. He's longer than average, his cockhead poking the back of your throat, and veiny, mainly on his sides.

"Good weight," he moans as your lips trace the prominent veins, painting his blushing cock with your marks. Satoru doesn't understand what you want to him to say to the comment, a thank you seemed unbecoming and anything else would be odd. So he says nothing and just caresses your jaw to guide your mouth forward.

"Take your fill, (Y/N)."

The position you're in is not entirely new. You've taken Uraume and Sukuna together before. Witt their sex is in your mouth while your King takes you from behind. Ah, what fond memories. You really should invite the ever-so-loyal servant into your bed once again.

What a talented mouth they had. Such vigor to please you, adoration pouring from them with every flick of their tongue.

Sukuna is still a possessive lover. That did not change. But he does find amusement in the way you ache for Uraume's body and something about the way Uraume strokes themselves to completion as they watch the two of you fuels him with pride.

But enough about your lovely Uraume.

Satoru had placed his robes beneath your knees and so you suck in your cheeks as thanks as you suck on his length. Your hands were on his knee and his fingers held a fistful of your hair. The silken cloth beneath you makes you inch forward with each thrust from Sukuna.

"The way he's stretched around me. Satoru, I'll save his other hole for you to fuck, this one is all mine," his hips are flushed against your ass. He can feel your cunt attempting to push him out, resisting the stretch that would've killed others, as cursed energy flows through your body. It would ebb away, the need to heal yourself, as your body gets used to his size but fuck does it make Sukuna grin absolutely monstrous at the very fact you even need to do so.

You can't blame him. It's not like he'd never hurt you in any way you didn't like.

Your thighs are clenched tightly around his other cock. Luscious thighs slicked with oil that had been conveniently placed nearby and making sounds almost as obscenely as your filled cunt.

Satoru's jaw is loose. Throaty groans and appreciative moans rewarding your efforts as your nose presses against the patch of pubic hair he has. Diamonds line your waterline as you breathe through your nose, the back of your throat squeezing around Satoru's cock.

"Fuck!" He pulls you away, stroking himself furiously with one hand and holding your head in the other. The expression on your face should be preserved forever, Satoru thinks. So that future men will wish to be born in the same era as you.

His brows furrow in annoyance at how ethereal you look.

You should look whorish — which you do! But there's something unreal about it. Picture perfect, an embodiment of lust, depravity that beckons with that wet tongue and wetter eyes.

"S'kuna! Oh, yes, yes — Darling, you fill me so well!" Your voice is hoarse as you're jostled back and forth, nails leaving claw marks on the wooden floors. Satoru lets go of your head and you stretch out like a cat, the top half melting as your back arches into a perfect position.

Sukuna kneads at the mounds of your ass, splitting it apart to watch your asshole winking back at him while he holds your waist. It's brutal how he fucks you. Satoru stands and backs away to watch, his breath coming out in barely there white puffs and his heartbeat drumming through his ears.

"Fuh - fuck! Mpfh! Ngh — Your cocks are beautiful, they fill me so well," He tightens his hold on you and the moan you let out as he moves your body makes Satoru's cum bead on his tip.

Sukuna chuckles as he sees Satoru cursing and wiping away his shame. "You've never been in a room where people aren't salivating over you have you, sorcerer?" Satoru frowns pointedly at his condescending tone.

"Hah! I feel you in my stomach — You're — !"

"Must you belittle me any chance you get? Are you trying to compensate for something?" Satoru retorts. It makes Sukuna bark out a laugh. Strong biceps curl and flex as he rights your upper half so that it's pressed to his front.

On display for Satoru with Sukuna's greediest mouth curling around your chest to tease your chest.

"Compensate, is that the word you used?"

Between your slicked thighs, his cock spears through them in tandem with the one inside you. Satoru's eyes widen at the sight of the prominent bump poking from your stomach. The fact that you aren't dead is a clear testament to your skills — both in bed and in battle.

"I've heard no one has ever cut his skin," Satoru kneels again in front of you, nose curling at the dexterous muscle that flicks at his chin. "I know Reverse Curse Technique is a useful skill to have...but I never thought you'd be so perverse to use it so shamelessly."

"Get off your high horse, S — Mfh! That feel s'good — Satoru!"

"Wrong name," Sukuna growls near your ear. It manages to split Satoru's lips into a smirk as he cups your chest in each hand. It's slicked with saliva and he ignores the disgust he feels as he locks his lips with yours. Sweet as ever, despite the saltiness that lingers on your tongue.

"If his cunt is yours," Satoru pants out between kissing you. His thumb tweaking your nipples between his index, his cock hanging heavily as it fills up once again.

"Then he'll have to face away. I'll take his ass," he bites down on your lower lip. The sensation of his teeth and Sukuna's rough palms tightening their grip on you have you squealing in pleasure. His hips pause, it gives you enough time to form words while the men stare each other down for a second.

Sukuna was beginning to miss Uraume's presence. They never glared at him with open animosity, unadulterated wanting and greedily claiming your chest with a grip that'd leave bruises.

The shadows of a scowl crossed his face. Insolent little brat. But so fucking gorgeous. Strong too, from what he's heard.

He wasn't anywhere near as beautiful or strong as you but Sukuna has always had a penchant for these types. No one walks all over him. But he does find it amusing when pretty faces are so defiant — or when their heads are staked on a pike with crows plucking their eyes out.

You're breath shudders as Sukuna pulls you off his cock, leaning onto Satoru. He wraps his arms around you, eyelids fluttering at the feeling of your wet lips tracing his jaw while your body is all but boneless.

He inhales sharply as you grab his cock. "Thankfully, you're not — hah — completely incompetent in the sack. Impressive stamina, sorcerer." That, he could say thank you too. So he does.

Satoru is kind as he maneuvers you to face your beloved. Was that irritation in his chest at how excitedly you allowed Sukuna to claim your lips? Gods, no.

"Get closer," you said as you glanced at him over your shoulder. "If the both of you are going to fuck me, get closer."

What was it that Sukuna told him to do again?

Feast?

You can't tell where your pleasure begins or ends. Every nerve was set aflame and you weren't even sure if your body could've survived this if it weren't for your cursed energy.

Because from behind you, Satoru's thick member is spearing you again and again with Sukuna's. The idea of Satoru's cock inside of you seemed to have upset him enough to want to...accompany it in its endeavors. The sorcerer is hypnotized by the way your rim furls and unfurls on his blushing dick, how it greedily squeezes down every time he hits home and bumps his cockhead with Sukuna's. Even though their cum was creating a frothy ring of white at his base — he seems intent on pumping you with more and more and more. Marking your insides as white as his hair. He spreads your cheeks apart, groaning each time he does, and fuck, he's filthy as he whispers into your ear.

"You take us so fucking well. Like a proper whore, huh?"

"I'm not — I'm not a whore, you —"

Then, at the front, Sukuna's displeasure at Satoru's brazen attitude was taken out on your cunt. Still, you take all of him in because what concubine would you be if you couldn't? Your pride was on the line and you'd rather claw your own eyes out than let it be broken down.

His cock was inside of your cunt. You were more than pleased.

Sukuna's face floats above yours, his hands gripping everywhere while Satoru was chased off to just handle your ass. Though even then, he'd grab a handful of each cheek just to leave bitemarks on it — and annoy Satoru.

"Look at you," he groans out. His vermillion eyes are hooded with lust as he cradles your face.

You were perfection. A filthy little demon made to accompany him until the end of time. Your brows sloped so prettily, eyes hazy and lashes clumped together with tear streaks down your face. Lips red and bruised, neck littered with angry and dark marks.

"My King, my beloved, I — Oh, fuck, I'm close, I'm close," you whimper for what felt like the 5th time that night alone.

Why you were cumming? You weren't even sure.

The aching stretch of both holes as your brain is wrecked with too much pleasure is causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. Your hands spasm from within one of Sukuna's hands and your whole body shakes as you feel yourself cum again.

"Ah, shit!" Satoru groans as he pulls out, frowning as cum follows his departure and drops onto the floor. "You're just as awful as he is," he hisses out to Sukuna as he glares at the way the cock he'd been sharing your ass with stopped growing. Snug as a bug as it plugged you up. Satoru had already been close, with a few more thrusts he'd be filling you up once again. Then, what he thought was you tightening up turned out to be Sukuna making his cock so big it made the fit painful.

Fucking asshole.

"If I was as awful as he was, I would've cleaved the top of your head off, Gojo." Sukuna grabs your ass and your wanton mewl makes both men twitch.

His thrusting picks up its speed and you fight back his hold to wrap your arms around his neck. Sukuna allows it. He's close. You can tell. He's close and like a child, he decides he's the only one allowed to flood your insides with his cum, overflow your body until it forgets the taste of Gojo Satoru's.

"Sukuna, Sukuna — My lover, my beloved," you manage a dopey grin as you messily mould your lips together.

"Cum with me, Sukuna."

He's wonderfully loud when he does. Violent too. His nails digging into your waist and ass while he thrusts himself balls deep inside of you. Satoru's amazed your body hadn't given out — amazed at your endurance and how your cursed energy levels hadn't once seemed to deflate once in the time the three of you had been naked.

He shouldn't hope for it — but Satoru wonders how you would fare in a fight with himself. In fact, he cums into his own fist and onto the floor at the very thought.

Sukuna groans as you squeeze around him, another orgasm washing over you in pathetic spurts of wetness from your cunt.

Soft panting fills the air. The two servants by the door rise from their knees to slide the door open and Uraume walks in with three women behind them.

"Fuck," Satoru should scramble to get off his kneeled position but his body is too pumped with pleasure to even process the command. "Oh, don't feel shame, sorcerer," Sukuna muses out.

The King of Curses leans back, settling on his throne with you in his lap and still snuggly inside of your holes. Uraume comes to your back, and two girls tend to Sukuna, gracefully wiping him down while Uraume does the same to you.

The other girl does the same to Satoru and he simply tosses his head back as he falls back onto his calves, groaning at the cool water.

"They've heard everything already. Your sacrifice for your clan. How noble."

A weak giggle comes from the mess of limbs on Sukuna's torso. It's still one of the most heart-fluttering sounds Satoru had ever listened to and he hates how his cheeks reddens once again as you lift your head to smile at him.

"So very noble, Gojo Satoru."

[jayden-writes]

fragile

pairing: Lucifer x gn!Reader

wordcount: ~1.5k

genre: hurt/comfort, angst

cw: descriptions of an injury (sprained ankle)

summary: When you sprain your ankle, Lucifer doesn't appreciate your attempt at hiding it.

other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // based on this drawing by @sbmlamb // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!

There was no doubt in your mind that you must have been the clumsiest being in all three realms. Twisting your ankle because you simply tried to keep up with the long strides of a demon? How utterly embarrassing.

Gritting your teeth, you kept following the brother that was escorting you back to the House of Lamentation today - Satan. It seemed as though he hadn't noticed the way you were falling behind or your minor accident at all, being too engrossed in his rant about something Lucifer had done.

Despite the mixture of pain and numbness radiating up your lower leg, you managed to catch up with him, maintaining a mostly normal expression and a steady gait. Turning his head towards you, the anger drained from his features as he observed you. He took in your carefully masked suffering and how your shoulders were heaving with the effort it had required to get back to him.

“I'm sorry,” he said, slowing his pace and giving you a worried glance, “I hadn’t realized that I was too fast for you. Are you alright? It looks like you’re in pain.”

Cursing yourself internally, you racked your brain for a believable excuse.

“I… uhm… I just have a stitch in my side. No big deal,” you explained, shooting him a reassuring smile.

Satan nodded and visibly relaxed at your words, returning his attention to the path. From that point on, the walk back was spent in comfortable stillness with him occasionally glancing at you. When you reached the mansion and entered, you exhaled a quiet sigh of relief and waved goodbye, heading straight for your room as quickly as you could without putting too much weight on your foot while still walking normally. Finally inside your own space, you hobbled towards your bed, sitting down to take off your shoe and sock, which jostled your ankle, and caused you to hiss in agony. Once it was bare, your eyes widened at the sight of it swollen and bruised.

“Fuck…” you muttered and attempted to move it, which only made the pain worse.

Suddenly, there were knocks on your door, startling you.

“Oi! It’s your turn to make dinner!” called Mammon’s voice out from the other side. Right. Of course. You had completely forgotten about that.

“Give me a moment!” you yelled back and you heard him disappear again.

Sighing, you removed the second shoe too, and slipped into a pair that had a looser fit to reduce the pressure on your foot. Then you limped towards the doorway, biting your tongue to stifle the pained whimpers threatening to escape you, and opened it. Peering outside, you looked to your left and right, checking whether someone was around. Satisfied at not seeing anybody, you stepped out and silently shut the door behind you. Making your way to the kitchen, you put as little strain as possible on the ankle.

Aside from being embarrassed about your clumsiness, you also didn’t want them to worry about you or for them to start treating you as if you were a fragile thing. You weren’t. You really weren’t. You were a human and they were demons. Surely, you would be able to handle this just fine on your own, and wouldn't have to rely on one of the brothers.

It took you almost twice as long as usual to get to the kitchen, but once you did, you immediately started gathering all of the supplies you needed to prepare the meal. Still, you stayed vigilant, closely listening for any noises so you’d know when to stop limping.

What you hadn’t accounted for, however, was the practiced silence of Lucifer’s steps. You didn’t hear him arrive, rather, you felt his presence, the way his crimson gaze burned into your back. It made the hairs on your neck stand up and you whipped around to see him leaning against the doorframe, his eyes narrowed and fixed on you.

“And what exactly,” he drawled, pushing himself off the frame to saunter towards you, “do you think you’re doing?”

“Cooking dinner…?” you replied hesitantly, although it sounded more like a question than an answer. His tall figure loomed over you, and you tried your best to maintain a casual position that kept your weight off your foot.

“Is that so?” he hummed thoughtfully, scrutinizing you. “What made you think that this was a good idea in your current state?”

“Huh? Come again?”

“You are hurt, are you not?” Lucifer’s voice was calm and collected, in contrast to the displeasure evident on his face.

“I’m not, I’m totally fi-” you began, only to be cut off by him saying your name sharply.

“Do not take me for a fool. Answer me. What made you think walking around with an injury was a good idea?”

“It’s my turn to cook dinner…” was your meek reply, and he simply sighed deeply.

“Seriously. You are incorrigible. I can’t believe you sometimes. Sit down. Now.”

Reluctantly, you obeyed him. He kneeled in front of you, reaching for your ankle, and pulled the shoe off with careful motions that betrayed the ire he was exuding.

“It’s just a bit twisted. I’m sure it’ll be fine by tomorrow, there’s no need to make a big deal out of this,” you mumbled, grimacing as you watched your swollen and bruised foot become visible again.

“Twisted, you say?” Lucifer echoed, his gloved fingers delicately grasping your injured body part as he examined it. At first, it was painful, but soon a soft glow emanated from his hands, providing a cooling sensation that dulled the ache. “It is not twisted. You sprained it, if not worse.”

“Oh…” you responded quietly. “Well, that’s not good, I guess?”

“Not good…” he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. “That certainly is one way to say it. Especially considering that you have foolishly decided to keep straining it.”

Standing back up, he hooked one arm underneath your knees, wrapping the other around your back to lift you up. Your brain short-circuited for a moment as you were held against Lucifer’s chest. He was already halfway to your room when you managed to recover yourself and glanced up at his face to study his stern expression. Red eyes darted down to meet yours, and you flinched internally at the combination of anger and disappointment swirling in them, swiftly averting your gaze. Once he had entered, he placed you on the bed and made sure to elevate your ankle, then he turned to leave.

“Stay here and do not move. I will return soon,” he said gruffly, and with that, he was gone, leaving you alone. Defeated, you let your head sink into the pillow and stared at the ceiling. Eventually, the door handle was being pushed downwards, and heels clicked across the floor as Lucifer approached you, pulling up a chair to sit on.

“I will perform a quick diagnostic spell. It may cause an odd feeling, just bear with it for a minute,” he informed you matter-of-factly, and you gave an affirming hum, only briefly glancing at him to catch a glimpse of first-aid materials before looking away again. Mumbling some words under his breath, he grazed his fingertips over the swollen flesh, the leather of his gloves barely touching your skin. It was silent for a while and your foot prickled until he withdrew his touch.

“You are lucky. Nothing is broken, however, one of the ligaments is partially torn,” Lucifer explained plainly. “You will have to stay in bed and rest for at least a week.”

“A week?!” you exclaimed indignantly, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him. “You can’t be serious! What about RAD? I have a presentation in two days!”

He huffed in annoyance and shot you a glare, taking out bandages.

“You have two options: either you will stay in bed voluntarily or I will have you tied to it. So, what shall it be, hm?”

Without offering a response, you sank back into the bed.

“Good. I’m glad you’re finally being reasonable,” he grumbled and started wrapping your ankle up carefully.

Turning your head away from him, you clenched your jaw tightly when the pain that he had dulled earlier with whatever spell he had used resurfaced temporarily. Lucifer heaved a faint sigh as he took note of your stubborn stillness and your tense posture. As soon as he was done, he put a cold compress on your ankle and sat on the bed next to you, the mattress sinking under his weight. He spoke your name; you didn’t respond.

“Come on now,” he whispered, his voice much gentler now, and he stroked a hand over your hair, “I am simply looking out for you, you know that, right? You are far too reckless with your health.”

“You’re one to talk,” you retorted, and pouted, but you turned your gaze back towards him, observing his softened expression as he hovered over you.

“Don’t deflect,” he chuckled, and cupped your cheek, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I will make up for it, alright? I am going to keep you company. Does that sound agreeable to you?”

“Fine…” you breathed.

“That’s my good human,” Lucifer cooed, tilting your face up to brush his lips against yours. “Now, rest.”

[morbidapples]

pretty thing

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝖽𝗈𝖽𝗀𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽'𝗏𝖾 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾'𝖽 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖿𝗅𝗒 𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗀𝗈. 𝗒𝖾𝗍, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐, 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝖾.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 𝟣,𝟧𝟨𝟥 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌; 𝟪,𝟦𝟧𝟣 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻���𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗌𝖾𝗆𝗂-𝗉𝗎𝖻𝗅𝗂𝖼 𝗌𝖾𝗑 (𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺), 𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝗑 (𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀), 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗂 𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗆𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇.

𝗮/𝗻: 𝗂 𝗋𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝗌𝗈 𝗂𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝗀𝖺𝗋𝖻𝖺𝗀𝖾, 𝗂 𝖺𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝖽𝗏𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝖽𝗈𝖽𝗀𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗍? 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈, 𝖽𝗈𝖽𝗀𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗂𝖿 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾, 𝖺𝗌 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾. 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌, 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗇𝗈 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗂 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾.

Dodge was not accustomed to people showing up for him. So, when his gaze fell on you in the rodeo throng that day, he was certain he was imagining things. Was it possible that you would've remembered something he said in passion at Dot's over a week ago? Most importantly, why did you even care?

He'd wanted you ever since he first saw you. You were just so damn pretty. So sweet, so gentle. He didn't believe in love at first sight, but God, was it hard not to fall in love with you instantly.

Despite his reservations, as he finishes his run and dismounts from Charger, his horse, you are the only one he cares about, and the one he makes a beeline towards to where you wait at the gate.

"You came." He tilts his cowboy hat, places his hands on his hips, and looks down at you.

You nod slightly. "I did."

His lips twitch into a smirk.

"Don't look so thrilled. Was the thought of seeing me again that painful?"

"Oh my god, it was completely and utterly dreadful." Dodge can tell by the tone of voice you're using that you're only teasing him.

He lets out a scoff laugh, pretending to be hurt by your words. He holds his chest dramatically. "Now you're breakin' my poor heart, pretty thing."

"Well then, I might just have to stitch is back up for you." You have an amused grin on your face, but your attempts at flirting are completely serious.

"Oh, yeah?" Dodge steps closer to you, looking down at you, and takes the bottom of his shirt into his hands and lifts it up, revealing an impressive washboard stomach and the slightest hint of a happy trail that's just barely visible in the cowboy's jeans. "You can start here."

"You're a real charmer, aren't you?" It seems like an offhanded comment, but your tone of voice and the look in your eyes tells him that you're very much interested.

"You like it." That signature crooked smirk tugs at one corner of his mouth. "Admit it."

He gently tugs your chin upward, his eyes meeting yours with an intense gaze and his thumb grazing against your bottom lip.

When your teeth lightly nibble against his thumb, he loses it, he's officially going mad. He's completely gone for you. He needs you. Now. Which in turn means, you two need to get somewhere relatively private.

Dodge's eyes darken with lust. He looks around to find a place less packed.

Without another word, he takes your hand in his and leads you away from the rodeo crowd and towards the stables nearby. Once he finds an empty stall, he shoves you into it and closes the door behind him.

Once you're secluded in the shadowed stall, Dodge presses you against the wall as he crashes his lips to yours in a passion-filled kiss.

His tongue runs against your bottom lip, demanding entry, and moans against your mouth when you open up for him. His arms wrapping around your waist and his body pressed flush against yours.

When he taps your thighs as a signal, your legs wrap around his waist as he pushes you against the stable wall, your hands cupping his face as his tongue slips into your mouth.

A gruff groan rumbles from his throat and into your open mouth as you feel the heat and hardness of his bulge press against you.

Dodge's hands roughly grip your hips as he grinds his hips in a circular motion and begins trailing kisses along your jaw and neck.

You gasp, one arm wrapping around his neck as your eyes flutter shut, and you throw your head back slightly at the feeling. "Shit, Dodge..."

His teeth graze along your neck, finding that sweet spot on your collarbone, just at the top of it. He sucks on your skin and leaves a dark red mark in his wake.

The hand that's gripping your hip begins to wander further, going in between your bodies. He glances up at you, a silent question of consent. When you nod eagerly, his hands set you down against the back wall.

Dodge's hands lift your shirt up, and he presses open mouthed kisses to the top of your abdomen, and to your midriff.

His palm presses against your lower stomach, and once he reaches the waistline of your jeans, he quickly unfastens the button and yanks at the zipper.

Dodge sinks down, dropping himself to his knees as he kisses down your body. He nips and bites at the skin just above your hip bone as his hands grip the waist and and pulls your jeans past your thighs and down your legs.

He looks up at you with darkened, hungry eyes- his tongue flicking out for a second to wet his bottom lip. "Keep lookin' at me just like that, pretty thing," He says, his voice low and gravelly. He guides one of your legs onto his shoulder.

The only piece of fabric left between his mouth and it's intended target are your panties, and they don't last for long as the cowboy pulls them down with his teeth and watches them fall to your ankles.

"Keep quiet. Wouldn't want anyone seeing how good I make you feel, would we?"

He doesn't bother to wait for your response. He leans in, and his mouth is on you in mere seconds. His tongue is running up and down your folds as he moans, tasting you and savoring the sweet taste of you on his mouth.

As Dodge uses his tongue to please you, his eyes flick up to glance at you. Your head is thrown back, eyes almost rolling into the back of your head. You bite down on your bottom lip to muffle the noises that threaten to escape you. God, you're so pretty. He's never seen anybody look as goddamn beautiful as you do right now.

His eyes don't leave you. He keeps his gaze locked on yours. His name falling from your lips sounding sweeter than any melody. His tongue works you in a way that makes you lose all coherent thoughts, your head dizzy from pleasure and your eyes closing- unable to keep them open against the overwhelming sensation.

He's lapping at you like a starved man, similar to that of a wild animal. His tongue tastes you at such a rabid pace, that it doesn't seem humanly possible. He's groaning into your cunt, and that only amplifies the pleasure.

He's eating you out like he wants to devour you whole, and in a way, he does.

Your body begins to tighten as you feel the all-too-familiar feeling of your orgasm building within you. Your fingers weave into his hair, gripping it between your fingers, as if you needed him to anchor you in place to keep from drowning in your own bliss.

Dodge doesn't let up, even as your moans become louder and more wanton when you're brought over the edge. He keeps working you through your orgasm until you're oversensitive and can't stand the feel of his tongue any longer.

His tongue runs over you one last time, leaving behind a parting kiss, and his mouth trails up your stomach, following the path back towards your heaving chest. He plants one final hot, breathless open-mouthed kiss between your breasts, and he stands to his feet.

His eyes look into yours, admiring the way your chest rises and falls as you attempt to catch your breath. Your cheeks are flushed, and your lips are swollen from biting at them. He wants nothing more than to hear you calling out his name again and again. But...

But the sound of commotion outside the stall causes him to look over his shoulder. The rodeo is still going on, and it won't be long before someone comes looking for him. Dodge turns back to you, his thumb softly grazing over your cheek. "As much as I'd love to stay here-," He steals a short kiss from your lips, "-I need to go check on Charger."

You nod slightly, eyes still scanning him, and your cheeks still flushed. "Okay. Do you wanna... continue this later? Maybe somewhere a little more private?"

Dodge places his hand on the wall by you, effectively trapping you between his body and the stable wall. His lips brush up against your ear as he leans in close, his nose just barely grazing the shell of you ear.

"Of course I do," He all but whispers, the low, heated rasp of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "I'll text you when the rodeo's done."

"Looking forward to it." You turn your head to quickly peck his cheek, before pulling away to grab to grab your clothes, shrugging your panties and jeans back on.

Dodge laughs softly. That bold attitude always returns, even after you've just had your mind blown.

Once you're both situated, Dodge takes his cowboy hat off his head and places it onto yours, tilting the brim down to cover your eyes with a charming smirk.

"Just keep this safe for me 'til later, okay?" He asks as he opens the stable stall door and peeks his head out. When the coast is clear, he lets go of your hand and disappears into the commotion before you can respond.

[fict1onallyobsessed]

can you please write a vi x firelight! reader?: when caitlyn goes to trade in her gun to help an injured vi, !Firelight reader, even though advised not to, rushes down to where vi is laying injured and hallucinating, and cups her face and cooes her into a state of calm because she missed her so so much, mission to spy on her to see if she was working with silco be damned. bonus points if caitlyn comes back by the time reader is gently stitching vi's wounds after they hugged and cried as much as they could before vi cried out in pain. BONUS BONUS if reader, who already dislikes caitlyn for being a cop, takes the shimmer from her, and gently feeds it to Vi, herself, ty! ♡

Always

Vi x Firelight!Reader

She was barely conscious as it was, hand clutching her side as it bled through the cracks of her fingers. She was seeing her mother call out her name, her blue hair cascading down her shoulders as she leaned forward to grab at her. It almost felt as if she was truly dying this time, and there was nothing that could be done to fix it.

Then she saw you, a much older version of you. She tried to focus as much as she could through the tears in her eyes and the pain in her ribs, but she just simply couldn't. A part of her cursed that she would never be able to see what you'd look like much older, how she would never get to hug you again after a bad attempt at stealing things from Piltover or hear your laugh when she told you a stupid joke. She focused her head again, trying to sharpen the imagine she could see of you but you felt...too far away.

Until you started walking closer, slow steady steps as you approached her to make sure you didn't startle her. She thought you were dead after all.

Slowly, you became more visible to her.

Your hand reached for her knee and she flinched, wondering how badly she was hallucinating to be able to feel you. It wasn't even until you kneeled beside her, your body leaning over her to inspect her injuries without touching her that she truly opened her eyes.

"Hey, Violet." You whispered, your hand finally met the side of her torso that wasn't bleeding, your thumb comfortably running along her clothes to sooth her. "Shh, it's okay. You'll be okay."

You had to fight your own tears. Touching her felt surreal, like a answered dream from the Gods above. Like her, you thought she was dead after everything that happened, but nothing stopped you from secretly hoping she was okay.

She looked up at you with wide eyes, a whimper falling from her lips as she held her injured side. Even through the pain, she focused on you, how much she missed your touch, your voice, your face.

"Are you real?" She whispered, her hand reaching for you just to ground herself and to make sure she wasn't going crazy. The tightness in her throat finally let go and she sobbed before you could even answer, her hand still reaching out to feel more of you, to pull you closer.

You lifted your hands to cup her jaw, felt her melt into your touch and let her cry it out. She wasn't even worried about her side anymore. She could die now. She could die because she got to see your face. She could die because she felt your touch. She could die now, only if it were in your hands.

"Yes. I'm real, Vi." You felt your own tears drag down your face but you literally couldn't care less. All that mattered now was her. "I missed you so much."

"-missed you." She tried through her sobs. "I thought- you died..."

You shook your head, leaning forwards to kiss her forehead gently, still soothing her skin. You would have stayed like that forever, cherishing the moment but a harsh hiss came from the woman under you causing you to pull away.

"Can I see?"

She pulled up her shirt just enough to be able to see the deep wound. This would need more that just stitches, and all you had on you was a few gauzes from a fight you were in earlier. You took it out of your pocket, feeling Vi's hand grip your forearm as you did so.

"It's okay. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

She seemed to relax but her hand remained on you just to make sure. She didn't want you going anywhere again, not away from her at least. Her side stung as you pushed the gauze into the wound, the blood immediately seeping into the material.

Apart of her still thought it was her mind playing tricks on her while she was dying from blood loss. But even so, at least she could do it in your imaginary presence rather than alone, again.

Your head snapped towards the door when it creaked open, the blue-haired girl that you'd been following per Echo's request walked in and reached behind her. A sour expression found itself on her face when she realised she just traded her gun for the little vial in her hand.

"Who are you?"

"Give me that." You reached out for the vial she was holding, knowing Vi didn't have long before she passed out from the sheer amount of blood she was losing. You saw her hesitate, eyes scanning Vi who nodded at her tiredly.

If looks could kill, Caitlyn would fall victim to yours.

Hesitantly, she handed you the vial which you promptly snatched from her, opening it and instantly the noticeable smell of shimmer filled your nostrils.

"You have to drink quite fast, okay?" You whispered, reaching to cup her jaw with one hand and the other held the vial close to her lips. She let you guide her head upwards so it was easier for her to drink, her lips connecting to the vial as she began to drink the content.

For a moment she went silent when she finished drinking, her body seemingly not reacting to the drug. Then, a bloodcurdling scream sounded through the hollow and decaying building, making her body jerk forwards as chills ran down her spine.

You caught her just in time, letting her lean her body weight on you for a moment before she leaned back and opened her eyes. Another, much smaller, chill ran through her body, a small whimper leaving her lips as she tried to get used to the feeling of the drug travelling through her to get to her injury.

"Shh, I got you." You whispered to her, stroking her face with your thumbs. You could see the colour come back to her face and you sighed thankfully. It only took her a few second to get back on her feet, Caitlyn awkwardly standing there a little unsure on what to do or say.

"We're going to have to be more careful now. Silco will be watching." She said, walking backwards and into the very unstable pillar holding up the entire build. The cracking was expected but the rustling that came from outside was not.

Carefully, Caitlyn opened the door to see Silco already there. Vi turned to you, smirked and nodded.

"You ready?"

"Always."

[jackactuallywrites]

Purely Professional

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Medic Reader

Rating: Mature (nothing too explicit but dick is hinted at)

Warnings: Ghost has a boo boo 😔 (blood, facial injury - split cheek and bruising)

Summary: You are the only medic Ghost trusts to treat him. Also you guys are friends with benefits!

Notes: Yes I do always headcanon Ghost with a broken nose. It’s HOT. Also I’m cleaning out the drafts

Word Count: 1,712

ao3 link

“He’s here.”

You didn’t need to ask to know who the other medic was talking about, nodding thanks to the medic as she left, and you quickly finished up with the young woman you were patching up, “You can take ibuprofen as needed, no more than two pills at a time, and space out the dosage to every four hours.” You wrinkle your nose, “I mean, you know how to take ibuprofen, just basic over-the-counter stuff. But come back if there’s any problems.” She nods, “Thanks, Doc.” You weren’t sure how many times you’d specified the difference between a combat medic and a military doctor, but at this point, it wasn’t worth the air, so you just nodded, gesturing for her to take her leave, “Anytime.” She grabbed the pillbox and made her way out of the room, leaving you to clean up the empty wrappings, tossing them into the nearby bin. You tore off the paper that was covering the bed, binning it as well and then rolling out another cover, making sure everything was fresh and clean. When you were satisfied, you walked out of the room into the waiting room, your eyes immediately landing on the one man who didn’t need to be named.

Ghost.

The intensity of his gaze was intimidating, his dark eyes glowering from underneath the skull mask as though he wanted nothing more than to take down every single person who dared to breathe the same air as him. At this point, the other medics had learned that he wouldn’t accept their help, refusing to utter even a single word until you were free. You leaned against the frame of the door that led into the hallway, beckoning him with a jerk of your head. He rose from his seat, seeming to dwarf everyone else around him as he walked through the room toward you, brushing past you without a word and striding straight into the open examination room, the cold silence seeming to emanate off him like a tangible aura, visibly affecting those around him, the other medics shrinking away from him as he passed.

You followed him into the room, closing the door behind you, “So, what can I help you with today, Lieutenant?” He sat down on the bed in the room, resting one forearm on his thigh, gesturing with the other hand to his face, consistently a man of few words. You stepped closer to him, “You’re going to have to give me a little more than that.” He grunted, reaching up to take off his helmet, setting it on the bed beside him, and then unclipping the skull mask, revealing the balaclava underneath. Finally, he pulled off the balaclava, revealing his clipped blond hair, and then his face, bruised and bloody, his cheek split open, blood already dried to his skin. His eyes, thankfully untouched, the black paint surrounding them unmarred, were on you, boring into your face as he watched you.

You didn’t waste time, reaching out to probe his face, your fingers gently holding onto his chin as you turned his head from side to side, inspecting the damage. It looked worse than it was; facial injuries always bled more, and though he tensed when you gently pressed his cheek, there was no sign of anything broken. After taking a moment just to be sure, you drew back from him, walking to the medical cupboard and taking out an antiseptic wipe, talking as you did, “You won’t need stitches.” He grunted, and you took this as permission to begin wiping the blood away from his face.

“So,” you began, always one to make idle chitchat as you worked, “who did you piss off this time?” Ghost watched you, his face solemn, searching your eyes before he responded, his voice barely more than a whisper, “Couple guys.” You smiled as you brushed the wipe over his split skin, “You know if you want to see me, you only have to ask.”

All the tension in his face seemed to ease then, his eyes softening as he looked up at you, “I know.” You took this as permission, gently nudging his legs open so you could stand in between them, closing the distance between you, allowing him to reach out in his own time, and after a brief moment, he did, his hands reaching out to gently rest on your hips, his fingers hesitant, still unused to the intimacy you shared. You cleaned up the rest of the blood on his cheek, giving him time to get used to your close proximity as you brought out a small plaster to cover his wound. In a moment of impulsivity, you pressed a gentle kiss to his damaged cheek, your reward his sharp intake of breath and the tightening of his fingers on your hips, pulling you closer toward him.

“You know,” you began, letting your hands rest on his shoulders, “the other medics are going to think you’re sweet on me.” Ghost let his face rest in the crook of your neck, his voice low, muffled by your shoulder, “I’m not sweet.” You smiled, letting your fingers trace over from his shoulders to the back of his neck, “No? What would you call this?” “Desperate.”

There was no mistaking the longing in his voice, the yearning, the way his fingers pulled you closer to him until your body was pressed against his. Already, his fingers were pulling at your shirt, just like he’d done so many times before, secretive fumbles in whatever vehicle or armoury was nearest, all beginning with some injury he only allowed you to treat, all ending with you wrapped up in his arms. You smiled, shifting one hand to stop his fingers on their insistent path underneath your shirt, “I think they’ll notice if I spend forty minutes in here with you.” Ghost didn’t seem entirely put off by the idea, his face tilting up as his lips began to move over your neck, gently nipping at the skin, his voice husky, “You love this being our dirty little secret, don’t you?”

It was impossible for you to lie to him; after all, he was special forces; no doubt he could sniff out every last secret of yours if he truly wanted to. His hand was already moving from your hip up to your cheek, forcing you to look at him as he pulled away from your neck, his pale eyes searching yours, “Admit it.” Every part of you seemed desperate to touch and be touched by him, and you held back a groan, “Yes. Which is why we can’t do anything in here.” His lips quirked in a smirk, “We wouldn’t want them to think you give this treatment to everyone.” You smiled, “I am supposed to be a professional, after all.” His thumb reached out to brush your cheek, “Couldn’t we both use a little unprofessionalism right now?”

The idea was tempting. Too tempting. You could feel those eyes of his melting away your resolve, and you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, biting the inside of your cheek, “What exactly did you have in mind?” There was a wicked look in his eyes, luring you into sin, to submit yourself to his will entirely, “What I have in mind would make too much of a mess and needs more time than we have.” You tilted your head to the side, curious, “So what do we do?” He was quiet for a moment, his eyes flicking over every single facet of your face, your eyes, your cheeks, your lips. He leaned into you, his nose bumping against yours, letting you feel that little ridge where it had been broken. His words were a murmur against your skin, softer than he ever seemed capable of, “I’ll be content with a kiss for now.”

It never seemed to make sense that a devil could be so sweet; you knew what he was capable of, you’d patched him up, you’d seen his medical records detailing what he’d been through, yet here he was, asking you for that simplest of intimacies. You obliged his simple request, leaning forward to press your lips against his, feeling the slight stubble on his skin prickle yours, his hand shifting from your cheek to the back of your neck, the one on your hip moving to the small of your back to pull you closer to him, encircling your body, his lips soft against yours, yet insistent, needy. He pulled away before you, leaning his forehead against yours, letting out a strained sigh, his hand moving from your back to his crotch, adjusting his trousers to disguise the growing bulge there. “The things you do to me.” His voice held some frustration, his fingers tightening on the back of your neck but loosening just as quickly, always in complete control of himself.

You could see the Lieutenant return, the way his back straightened, the grim determination returning to his lips. His hands fell away from your body, reaching for the balaclava and mask he’d put to the side, and you knew your time with him was coming to a close. You stepped back from him, tucking in your shirt, allowing him to resume that persona, covering his bruised face with the black balaclava and then finishing with clipping his skull mask back into place, his helmet finishing the transformation. All that remained of him were those soft eyes, out of place, surrounded by blackness. He reached up with one hand to tuck a loose hair back under your beret, his gloved fingers gently stroking against your cheek. “I’ll be seeing you.”

There was no doubt that he would find you to finish what you’d started here, but for now, he was back to business, standing up off the table and straightening out his uniform. You crossed the room to open the door for him, allowing the outside world view into your privacy, not that there was anything for them to see. He stalked past you without a word, yet as he passed, his hand reached out to gently squeeze your arse, sending tingles up your spine as he left you wanting, trying hard not to look like a lovesick dog as you watched him go.

[lalacliffthorne]

🪽 ... then we go down together. 🪽

Azriel x Reader

part I part II

summary: confessions, more of those damn arrows. and a masquerade ball.

notes: I am so sorry. this damn thing just kept getting longer and longer; I think I stopped looking at the word count somewhere after 14k, but splitting it again wasn't really an option, so... sorry? *winces* it just had to fit everything!! we've got more smut, more drama, more Azriel - because honestly, he needs his own warning at this point - and that just required an unholy amount of words. so make yourself a cuppa, cozy up comfortably, and binge this ridiculously long second part.

______________________________________________________________

Wind howled around the cabin, the woods outside pitch black, visible through the cracks in the shutters as I stared at Azriel's face.

He'd pulled me into his body sometime in the last hour, still half asleep, his hand sliding in between my legs and dragging me through the sheets, hauling my bare leg over his hip before slipping his arms around waist and pulling me close until my bare body was completely pressed against his – stomach against stomach, thigh against thigh, chest against chest.

Something hitched and dipped under my ribs, and trying to swallow against the quick flutter, I let my gaze trail over Azriel's face. I could feel the bandages wrapped around his ribs pressing against my bare skin. I had changed them some time ago, reapplying the paste onto the stitched wound that already didn't look as sickly anymore, while Azriel had trailed slow kisses over my neck, his hands lazily roaming my sides, making focusing nearly impossible.

Now, his eyes were piercing mine, a little tired but watchful and steady as always. I was so close I could see the golden specks swimming in the clear amber of his iris, could see the pale freckles on the bridge of his nose. His gaze slowly dragged over my face, and I almost shivered under the intensity of it.

Somehow, Azriel had always been the only one who's stare could do this to me. Cause my skin to tingle just with the way his eyes pierced mine, deep, unreadable, swallowing me whole in their depths.

I tried not to think about that too much.

Azriel's fingers slowly ghosted over my back, following my spine, his rough skin causing my heart to hitch and breath to tremble, and his iris shifted, becoming a shade deeper, that blazing fire flaring to life as his eyes tracked over my face.

My heart toppled, and I blinked. Then I mumbled: “You know what I've been wondering?”

Azriel's eyes dragged over mine, silent, waiting.

I stared at him, slowly frowning softly.

"Since you're basically half bat, could you sleep upside down?”

Azriel blinked. Then his eyes narrowed, and I felt my lips curve upwards until I was grinning widely.

“There are beams up there. If you weren't patched up in six different places, I'd say give it a tr-“

I broke off with a soft squeal when Azriel rolled me around in one smooth movement and dragged my back into his chest; his arm locked around my waist, pinning me against his chest as his tall body curved around mine, and snorted giggles started breaking from my throat when his fingers dug into my ribs. I squirmed, my heart soaring from laughter, and Azriel nipped at my jaw.

“Watch it,”, he mumbled against my skin, and my heart dipped over at the sound of his deep, smooth voice.

“Or what?” I twisted my neck to grin at him, cheekily, challenging, but my breath got stuck in my throat when my eyes met Azriel's.

Slowly, a lazy twinkle spread through his iris.

My lips parted with a sharp inhale when he dropped his head and dragged his lips over my neck. Then he pressed a slow, lazy kiss against the underside of my jaw, and a soft shudder travelled through my body.

Azriel gave a rough sound deep in his chest, and one of his hands slid up and wrapped gently over my throat to hold me still as his nose dragged over my skin.

Something twisted and tightened in my stomach, a hoarse whimper built in my chest, and my head fell to the side when Azriel started pressing hard, hungry kisses onto my neck, his teeth dragging over my skin and nipping just firmly enough for my breath to shake.

My eyes rolled back as my lids fluttered, and I squirmed in his hold, something beginning to twist harshly in my lower stomach when Azriel dragged me closer into his body. Then his hands slid down and closed over my breasts.

A broken moan fell from my lips, and my back arched as Azriel's scarred skin brushed over my nipples, causing them to tighten. A soft rumble built in the shadowsinger´s chest, and he kissed my neck harder as his hands began to palm and tug at my breasts, causing my head to fall back and something twisting and tightening in my lower stomach as I whimpered.

My hips pushed back as I arched into Azriel's touch, my ass brushed against him, and something hot washed over my insides when I felt his hard cock press up against me.

Azriel growled deeply against my neck, his teeth nipping at my skin as his fingers pinched my right nipple, and my eyes rolled back at the sharp twinge of pleasure that shot right down to where I could feel wetness begin to pool between my legs.

Az lightly bit down onto my neck before kissing the spot lazily, his tongue dragging over my skin as his right hand slipped off my breast and slowly slid down over my stomach.

I whimpered softly when his rough skin skimmed over my hip bone, my back arched, and Azriel's nose brushed over my jaw as his hand slipped into my panties. I caught a glimpse at his face from the corner of my eye, iris blazing, gaze fixed onto my face and lips parted, and something tightened harshly in my stomach. Then rough fingers brushed over my clit, and my spine melted as my head fell back and Azriel groaned hoarsely into my skin as his thumb slid over the swollen nub.

Pleasure zipped through me, twisting my insides as I moaned thickly. My body writhed in Azriel's grip, trying to escape and move closer to the waves rolling through my body at the same time, and the shadowsinger gripped me tighter as his fingers slid through my folds, beginning to lazily circle my clit. I whimpered as his other hand palmed my chest and his nose dragged over my jaw, his uneven breath hitting my skin.

Azriel gave a deep, rough sound, and the pad of one of his fingers slid over my entrance.

My hips bucked, and my eyes rolled back into my head when Azriel slowly slipped one finger into me.

Azriel's arm tightened around me, pinning me into his chest as his gaze burned into the side of my face. Then he slowly curled his finger, his palm dragging over my clit, and my body shuddered.

My hand flew up to bury in Azriel's hair as my head fell back, to hold onto something, anchor me down, because I felt like I was slipping away. Azriel groaned against my neck, his teeth catching onto the shell of my ear, and my back arched as a whimper broke from my throat when his nose traced over my skin. Then he started to slowly pump his finger.

My body twisted in his grip. My hand curled into his hair as a whimper broke from my throat and my mind swam with pleasure, and Azriel nuzzled his nose against my jaw, causing my hips to twitch and roll down as my insides fluttered. Then he eased in another finger.

A broken moan slid from my lips as I felt myself pulse, and Azriel growled, the sound rumbling through me. His fingers curled inside of me, hitting some spot, and my back arched as my lips parted soundlessly.

Heat rushed through me, washing over my limbs as slowly, a tightness built in my stomach, causing my insides to clench and tighten around Azriel's fingers as little by little, they picked up their pace, the heel of his palm pressing into my clit and causing my insides to twist.

My hips bucked down into his hand as Azriel's lips dragged over my neck, and he softly bit my jaw, like a soundless encouragement, his forearm wrestling my legs apart as his fingers pumped inside of me. I threw my head back, my chest aching as I felt the knot in my stomach grow tighter. My free hand dug into the pillow, clutched the sheets as I felt my lips part.

“Shit, I –“

The tightness pulsed without warning. Then it shattered.

My body arched, became boneless, bloomed into something shuddering and shaking as waves of white hot scalding pleasure rolled over me, and I trembled, shaking moans breaking from my throat as Azriel's hand rode me through the high, until my whole body spasmed and shuddering jolts of pleasure made me throw back my head.

Azriel slowly curled his fingers inside of me until I fell limp, breathing heavily. A whimper left me when he slid them out of me, his scarred skin brushing over my clit causing me to jerk.

Something was pulsing in my lower stomach, wetness pooling between my legs as I exhaled with a tremble and turned my head, something rising my chest when my nose brushed against Azriel's and I met his eyes, blazing with heat, glued to my face.

A deep sound broke from his chest, and Azriel leaned forward and crashed his lips onto mine.

I twisted to face him, my fingers sliding into his hair, and Azriel's grip around my waist tightened when I pulled him down and kissed him back feverishly, tongues exploring lazily as his hand slipped under my thigh and dragged it over his waist.

My breath caught in my throat as I felt his hard cock nudge against my panties, and Azriel groaned softly into my mouth, his arm wrapping over my thigh and ass as he started to slowly grind against me. I moaned as I felt myself flutter around nothing, heat pooling between my legs as I dug my fingers into his hair and rolled my hips to meet his, seeking for some sort of friction against the throb between my legs. Azriel licked over my tongue, nipping at my bottom lip before dropping his head and burying his face against my neck. His hot, heavy breath hit my skin as he kissed harshly down my throat, teeth grazing my skin, and my head fell back.

I tried to shift my hips down further, feeling frustration twist in my stomach, pulling tautly, and Azriel's fingers slid under my panties, pulling them to the side. His thumb brushed over my clit, my hips jerked and insides tightened, and Azriel groaned softly against my neck.

“Fuck.”

His deep, hoarse voice rumbled through me, and my stomach dipped over, hips rolling down desperately as he softly nipped my collarbone, body still lazily grinding up against me.

His thumb slid down through my folds like he was planning on letting go, and with a desperate whimper, I pushed my hips foward.

Azriel's cock slid up through my folds and over my clit, and my body shuddered.

Az grunted, the sound strangled as his hands dug into the flesh of my thigh, dragging it up higher. Then he rolled his hips, and my head fell back slightly when the head of his cock caught my clit.

Azriel groaned, fingers tearing at my panties, dragging them down my legs, spreading my thighs further and pushing closer as he breathed heavily against my neck. But the angle was not quite working, our bodies too close and yet not quite enough, hips grinding desperately, breathy moans and groans vibrating over my skin –

The shadowsinger growled in frustration, my hips shuddered, and I slid forward and pushed my leg over his side until Azriel rolled onto his back and pulled me with him.

A whimper caught in my throat and my eyes rolled back when Azriel's cock slid up through my folds. My hips bucked back as my knees settled next to his hips, and Azriel's hands pressed against my thighs, his head thrown back into the pillows.

My heart stumbled drunkenly as my eyes dragged over the curve of his throat, littered with bruises, dark hair tousled and sweaty, swollen lips parted and the gold of his iris barely visible through his heavily lidded eyes; and my hips stuttered and rolled down on their own accord.

My spine melted to liquid and my lips parted as I felt the head of Azriel's hard cock notch against my clit. A soft, strangled sound built in my throat, my legs shook, and I whimpered, shifting and rolling my hips.

Azriel groaned, the sound strangled and hoarse, his grip growing tighter, trying to pull me down as he threw his head back.

Sitting up slightly and pressing my hands onto his chest, I bit back a whimper as his cock slid through my folds again, the head nudging against my clit. I inhaled softly and sharply, my eyes fluttering as I stared at Azriel. His jaw was shifting, working as he gazed at me through hazy eyes, his fingers digging into my flesh so tightly, it would bruise.

I shifted my hips, then, slowly, I started moving, riding his cock sliding through my folds.

Azriel's heated gaze was fixed onto me, every muscle in his neck visible with strain, his chest solid with tension under my hands, so hard beneath me. I could feel his hips shifting, beginning to roll up to meet me, and a whimper built in my throat, my legs trembling when the head of his cock nudged against my clit, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through my body and making me throw my head back. A broken moan left me, and Azriel's eyes flashed.

My body slid back when he pushed himself up, his wings flaring, and my arms slid over his shoulders, my eyes rolling back when the angle shifted, his cock pushing against my clit and causing my insides to twitch as Azriel's lips crashed onto mine.

My heart swerved and soared, and Azriel dragged me closer, his hips rolling up into mine as his tongue twisted with mine, fingers digging into my waist, helping me sink up and down. My fingers dug into Azriel's hair and I kissed back, breathless, feverish, soft whimpers leaving me as my insides twisted and coiled, the friction tantalizing, not quite enough yet leaving my body twitching and writhing, too little yet too much at the same time, something building in my stomach, tighter, more fragile.

Azriel's fingers curled into my hair, pulling my head back, his lips dragged over my throat before he kissed my neck, deep, feverish; his arm tightened and pulled me down harder, and his voice reached me through the haze of pleasure, deep, low, vibrating through me in a hoarse order.

“Come for me.”

My insides twisted and shattered, and I arched into him, my muscles locking as my vision whitened and my body shuddered, became weightless, stars and matter and pleasure twisting through me until it was the only thing in existence.

I woke with a familiar scent filling my lungs.

My muddled senses needed a moment to catch up, understand why it felt like the warm, solid surface I was draped over was moving; rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. Then something in my chest dipped over.

I was sprawled over a warm body. My hands clinging to wide shoulders, face buried in the crook of a neck – and an arm wound around my waist, keeping me from sliding away to the side, holding me, just tightly enough.

My heart dipped and swerved, and I hesitated. Then I carefully raised my head, and my breath got caught in my throat.

Azriel's eyes were closed. He looked strange like this – unscowling, completely relaxed, off guard. No deep crease between his brows, jaw relaxed, lips parted slightly as he breathed steadily. He still looked a little sallow, but color was slowly returning to his cheeks. I could feel the calm rise and fall of his chest, moving my own as my gaze dragged over his dark lashes fanned against his skin.

I blinked, my heart skipped into my throat, and I carefully pulled my arms off his shoulders to slide off him, but Azriel's grip around my waist tightened, and a soft growl rumbled through his chest.

My gaze darted up, and my heart rose again when his eyes opened, the golden flecks in his tired iris melting together as Azriel glared at me.

Don't you dare move, his eyes seemed to say, and my breath hitched.

Barely suppressing the urge to swallow, I stared at him, my heart skipping high, and Azriel stared back, tired but steady, watchful. His eyes dragged over my face, and something twisted in my chest.

Even with tangled, messy hair and dark bags under his eyes, he was beautiful. So much so, it caused something to ache under my ribs.

Swallowing softly, I carefully rested my chin back on his chest and traced the pale shadow of freckles scattered over his nose with my eyes. Azriel's fingers started to slowly brush up and down my side. His touch was featherlight, causing waves of shivers to travel through my body as his eyes pierced my face, some of that flaring heat returning to his iris, and something pulsed in my chest. Warm, all-consuming; a rising feeling that seemed to seep into my whole body the longer I stared back at him, that raged and flared. And suddenly, something dipped over in my chest.

My breath hitched, and my heart dropped.

Oh.

I blinked, then I quickly turned my eyes away.

Suddenly, something was tightening around my throat.

Barely suppressing the urge to swallow, I pried myself out of Azriel's arm, its weight suddenly suffocating. Wrapping myself into a fur, I slid off the mattress, barely noticing the coolness of the floorboards under my bare feet.

Dread crashed over me like a tidal wave.

Shit.

I could feel Azriel's gaze on me, could see it sharpening from the corner of my eye as he straightened slowly, watching me silently. But I pretended not to notice, instead curling up tighter in the furs and shivering as I moved towards the fireplace where the last remaining embers were glowing gently. My eyes got caught at one of the windows, and something dipped in my chest.

Through the cracks in the shutters, I could see the first pale streaks of daylight. And suddenly, I realised how quiet it was. No rattling, no howling of wind.

In the soft blue light, the thick falling snow had turned into soft flocks, silently sailing to the ground. When I closed my fingers around my leathers, they were dry.

The storm was over.

“Our clothes are dry.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears, unbothered and vibrating with the lightest hint of a cheeky smirk that found its way onto my face without me prompting it as I looked over my shoulder and raised a brow. “Looks like we're getting out of here. Thank the Gods; no more cuddling.” The last part, I mumbled as I turned back ahead, barely suppressing the urge to swallow as tightness grew in my chest.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Azriel stare at me, and his eyes narrowed slowly. Then his voice vibrated through the cabin, deep, steady, matter-of-fact.

“You're scared.”

I stilled, and my heart dropped and fell. Then I turned to stare at him.

“What?”

Azriel rose to his feet, and I tried not to let my gaze dip, tried not to notice the way his muscles worked, his shoulders tense as his eyes pierced mine.

“You're scared.”

Something turned over in my chest.

Gods, how I hated him.

Hated how he could so easily read me when his face never gave away anything.  

I tried to fight the pressure closing around my throat, that squeezing feeling under my ribs as I stared at him. Then I did the only thing I knew how to do, the only thing that would make him stop looking at me like he did now and me forget what it was like when he stared at me like I might be beginning and end to everything.

Attack.

“I'm not scared.” I straightened, feeling my heart pound as I narrowed my eyes. “What is your problem? Because you clearly seem to have one. Specifically with me. What is it?” I raised my brows mockingly. “That I don't give a shit about control? That I can't just decide with my head, that I'm not all rational and controlled like you?”

Azriel's eyes flared.

“You have no idea what you're talking about.” His voice rumbled through the ground, so low and deep, it sent shivers down my spine. But I was too far gone.

Again, anger was flaring in my chest, raging, familiar – and finally something I could handle.

“It must be really fucking hard to always push everything down. Come on.” I glared at Azriel, feeling my lips curve into a bitter, challenging grin as I opened my arms lightly. “Get it all out! No one's here but me, and you seem to think I'm too emotional anyway, so you can't shock me! Hit me, shadowboy.”

Azriel was staring at me, his eyes blazing with fire, darkness swirling.

“What's getting the mighty shadowsinger into a twist, what's fucking with your head? Go on, enlighten me.” My breath was uneven as I balled my hands into fists, but Azriel just stared at me, completely silent.

Something twisted in my chest, and I screamed: “What's your fucking problem?!”

“That I cannot think straight with you around!!”

Azriel's thundering voice shook the cabin, and my breath caught in my throat.

My heart dropped. Then it stilled.

“What do you think why you're so fucking irritating to me?” Azriel's flaring eyes narrowed in on me as he stalked forward.

“You're under my skin, always. And I just can't seem to get you out. No matter what I do, you invade every fiber of my being, with nothing but a look or a touch or just your fucking presence in the room.” His iris was blazing. “You make me loose focus, you make thinking slow and impossible, and that's dangerous. Because I can't be distracted, because distraction means missing things, it means death. It nearly fucking killed the both of us! And yet, all I can do is find ways to focus on both you and everything else, because just the thought of not having you around makes me loose my fucking mind.”

His jaw tightened, causing the muscles in his cheek to shift as he pinned me to the spot with burning eyes.

“You are a weak spot in walls that I spent centuries building, and I'm still drawn to you like a moth to a fucking flame, because just thinking about staying away from you makes me ache. Because being near you makes everything finally make sense.”

Suddenly, breathing felt impossible.

My voice shook as I tried to latch onto something, anything. “Then why are you still always so fucking irritating -”

“Because you are stubborn and reckless,”, Azriel prowled towards me, his eyes flaring, “and you give me a heartattack every time you decide to tempt fate with that godsdamned smile!” He stopped himself short, jaw clenched and hands tightening into fists as he stared at me, gaze blazing. “Because you annoy the shit out of me, always challenging me. Make me jealous, because you see the good in people where I can only see the bad, because you have that godsdamned beautiful mind that twists everything into a plan, because you can bring people to their knees with just a grin.” His eyes flared. “Because it drives me mad how you look at me and how I seem to lose any ounce of control over myself whenever you're near. Because every time you grin at me, I need every wall I ever built to keep myself from pulling you in to to kiss you and fuck you until I'm the only one you´ll ever look at like that.”

I stared at him, feeling my heart flutter against my ribs like a caged bird while my breath hitched in my throat and my whole body tingled.

Azriel's jaw worked, his eyes burning amber as they pierced mine.

“You are my problem. Because you´re all I can think of, always. And I can't change it.” His gaze flared. “I don't want to change it.” He stared at me, and it almost looked like he was trying not to swallow as his eyes dragged over my face. “Not anymore. Not now that I know that I am under your skin exactly like you are under mine.”

My heart dropped, and I blinked.

“I don't –“

Azriel moved, and my breath caught in my throat, my heart toppling and rising when he stalked towards me, his eyes flaring.

“You don't what?” His gaze pierced mine, something swirling in its raging depths. “Don't know what I´m talking about?” Azriel's jaw worked, and he dipped his head to stare at me, iris blazing. “You know exactly what I'm talking about. And it scares the shit out of you.” His throat worked, then Az shook his head a little. “But I won't let you push me away just because you're scared.”

I swallowed, something pulsing under my ribs as I stared up at him, and Azriel stared back, steady, stubborn, unshakable.

“I'm not scared.” Somehow, my voice shook only a little, even as I felt something close around my throat. But I refused to back away, my fingers tightening around the furs wrapped around me as I glared up at Azriel, defiant, and just as stubborn.

Azriel's gaze burned into mine, and I knew, knew just from the way he didn't back down, just towered over me silently as his eyes steadily pierced mine, that he knew just as well as I did that I was lying through my teeth.

And that he could see right past the anger and defiance down to the reason why my heart was pounding painfully against my ribs.

I was scared.

I was terrified.

Because in the span of a night, my traitor of a heart had become his. Maybe parts of it had already belonged to him before, but everything that had happened since we had left for the mountains yesterday, everything I had said and everything Azriel had let slip through the cracks of his armor before laying it all out before me – had caused something to click into place.

Azriel, who never talked about anything that happened inside of him, had offered me everything. And it scared the crap out of me.

The shadowsinger blinked, and something softened in his stance, his shoulders dropping at little.

“Go on.” He stared at me, calm, steady. “Push me away. Scream at me.” A muscle in his jaw shifted as his gaze dragged over me face, and his deep voice was a little hoarse when he mumbled: “I'm still yours. The same way you're mine. Every bone in my body, every fiber of my soul. No matter what you throw at me. It all belongs to you anway. And I'm not going anywhere.”

Heavy pressure built in my chest as I stared up at him, clinging to the furs wrapped around me, and Azriel stared back, stubborn, firm, eyes swirling with a flaring blaze of emotion. Want mixed with need, hunger, hesitation and determination, and something else. Something that was burning and deep and all consuming, and that made my heart pulse against my ribs.

All out on the open.

Swallowing, I blinked and tore my eyes away from Azriel, pulling my pants from the back of the chair.

Carefully, I unbolted the door and dragged it open, moving back lightly when snow tumbled over the floorboards, down from where it had covered the porch; so high, it reached past my knee.

Slowly beginning to plow my way across the porch and down the steps, I breathed in the icy cold air and felt something in my chest tighten softly at sight of the pale blue light, the clouds opening over the mountains in the distance, allowing rays of thin morning light to filter over the woods. Snowflakes sailed silently to the ground, a few landing on my hair and nose, and I swallowed and tipped my head back to hold my face into the cold for a moment.

There was the sound of the door being pulled shut behind me, and when I looked over my shoulder, Azriel moved through the thick layer of snow on the porch, sheathing Truthteller. His eyes were piercing against the snow, his wings still patched up but the swelling going down.

He was still not back to his usual full strength, but it would be enough to winnow us back to Velaris.

Azriel's gaze found mine, and I quickly looked away when my heart rose against my ribs.

Something dipped gently in my chest as I stared up at the snowladen roof of the cabin, and I barely suppressed the urge to swallow.

Azriel moved down the steps, brows crunched against the snow sailing to the ground. He opened his mouth when a cold shiver slid down my back.

The hair at the nape of my neck rose. Something icy closed around my chest, and I turned around, my heart beginning to thump against my ribs as my gaze flitted over the still dark space between the trees.

“What?” Azriel's deep voice washed over me, and from the corner of my eye, I saw his shoulders tense.

I felt the whizzing sensation a second before an arm wrapped around my waist and hauled me out of the way.

A soft sound broke from my throat; my head whipped up, and my heart stilled, time slowing for a few heartbeats when I found Azriel's face an inch away, gaze piercing mine, his grip vice-like around me as my fingers dug into his biceps. Then his gaze moved upwards, and a deep, rumbling snarl built in his throat as his blazing eyes fixed onto the ash arrow that trembled in the railing of the porch where I had just stood.

Azriel whipped around, and I caught movement at the edge of the woods, just twisting out of the way before another arrow sliced through the air; I slid my swords out of their sheaths and turned with an angry growl, and quick and silent like shadows, dark shapes melted out of the treeline and stormed towards us.

I dodged the first blade slicing down through the air, catching it with my own swords and spun around, my blades barely missing the male's throat. He was too quick though, moving and ducking smoothly, and I slid through the snow, whirling up clouds of white as I pushed myself back onto my feet and turned, dodging and catching blades with mine, the impact vibrating through my bones. I caught a glimpse at swirling darkness and Azriel, his shadows whipping out, protecting him. But even though he was swift and agile, I could see he wasn't up to his usual strength, his eyes blazing with fury and snow clinging to his hair.

I dropped and whirled through the snow, slicing my swords over the back of two soldier's legs, causing them to collapse with deep groans, and I shot to my feet, my eyes meeting amber ones for the fraction of a second, deep and dark.

We had to get out of here.

Azriel snarled and kicked back a soldier storming towards him, his shadows whipping out in a wall as he turned, and I dodged a sword swiping down at me, trying to dart towards him. But as one, the soldiers seemed to understand and moved in, cutting off my path and driving us back.

It started a dangerous game. Again and again, they pushed us apart, attacking from all sides. They moved quickly, even in the deep snow, swift and coordinated, keeping Azriel from getting to me and me from getting to him. The shadowsinger's eyes were blazing with fury, his face twisted into a snarl, but every time I caught a glimpse at him, I saw his shadows protecting him from blows he would have easily dodged normally, saw his neck straining in a fight he would have usually finished within minutes.

The soldiers caught on as well. Their attacks became quicker, more daring, and something in my chest started rising. Began to pulse under my ribs, sent strength into my arms and hands, and fury made me snarl as I pushed against the cold and whirled around.

My blades slid over one soldier's throat, muscles working as I dodged another one's blow and sunk my blades into his chest, pushing and pulling them out, turning and slicing my swords over another male's arm before whirling around and sinking my blade into his neck, fighting my way towards the tall, towering figure shrouded in darkness. Azriel sliced his daggers over a male's throat before turning, I threw out my arm to grasp his hand and saw his shadows rising –

Something struck my back, throwing my body forward slightly.

My heart pulsed once in surprise. Then it slowed, and cold trickled over my spine.

I raised my head, and the world seemed to slow around me as pain lazily flooded my system. My gaze swept over the snow like caught in time before meeting another, gold like amber.

The pain spread, from the throbbing point in my back to my chest, and my vision swam, the world tilting around me. The amber eyes widened slowly as the snowed in earth closed in on me. Then my body hit the ground, the impact shaking my vision as the pain slowly grew more distant.

I caught one more glimpse at the amber eyes, in a face beautiful like death, filled with terror and raging fury before beginning to blaze with something so terrible, my heart shuddered. Then darkness exploded, and my eyes slid close.

I slipped into a strange, drowsy state where the world was vague and fuzzy. My eyes were too heavy to stay open, refusing my foggy mind's control, my limbs too tired to move. Sometimes, everything around me seemed just close enough to almost grasp it, but my body was too slow, too far away from my conciousness.

The pain was blurry. There was lots of it, radiating from my chest, drowning out anything else. I could feel hands, cradling my face, rough and scarred, a deep voice reaching through the fog, tense and panicked as something warm tugged frantically in my chest.

Then I was lifted off the cold, wet ground, into arms that smelled metallic like blood and like night chill and cedar underneath, their grip careful as they hoisted me up higher, adjusting me until I could feel my head roll to the side against a solid shoulder. Then the cool of shadows enveloped us.

I slipped away after. Time felt strange, sliding through my fingers, difficult to keep up with. I caught glimpses of a familiar foyer, and felt the deep voice vibrate through me, calling for someone, urgent, thundering, making something in my chest tighten. There were familiar scents washing over me, more voices, and a low snarl when hands slipped under me, the arms around me tightening their grip.

The pain grew, flaring through my body. It ripped me out of my head enough to feel the soft mattress beneath me, the scent filling my lungs, and the forehead pressed against my temple. It grew until it became almost unbearable, until my body did listen, twisting and writhing, a whimper tearing from my throat at the gentle hands pressed to the middle of my chest that felt like it was on fire. The dark presence at my side was gone, and I faintly caught onto a scuffle a bit away, and two other voices, talking against a deep growl.

After that, pain and exhaustion overwhelmed me. I only caught one more glimpse at the room, now quiet and calm, and fingers, long and slender and rough, wrapped around mine, something cool whispering over my cheeks, and the voice again, causing something to pulse gently against my ribs. It was vibrating with something I had never heard before now.

Beneath the fury, the anger and deep searing rage, there was fear.

“- you're not leaving me. Not now; there's no world in which you're not going to put up a fight and come back to me –“

Another voice, rich and smooth, interruped him, and I dozed off before I could try and squeeze his hand.

When I finally woke up, I felt like someone had dropped me midflight.

A soft garbled sound broke from my throat, somewhere close to a hoarse “Ow.”, and there was a quick call of my name somewhere to my right, deep and rumbling and soothingly familiar.

I blinked, feeling my brows crunch as my eyes tried to get used to the soft lighting. My chest was thumping like a second heartbeat, like someone had sent me flying with a kick powerful enough to split a boulder.

My head was heavy, and it took a while until the hazyness had drifted away enough for my gaze to focus onto a ceiling. My mind, still foggy, needed a moment to follow as my eyes drifted lower, over dark sheets which smelled achingly familiar and a room I didn't know. The curtains were drawn, there were bloodied bandages piled on the nightstand next to a bowl with pinkish water and bowls with tinctures. Then I caught movement at the corner of my eye, and when my head rolled to the side tiredly, my eyes met warm brown ones that slowly started to crinkle.

My heart squeezed tiredly, and Cassian sent me a slow, toothy grin.

"There you are.”

I softly crunched my brows and opened my mouth, but the words got stuck in my throat, my tongue dry like parchment. My whole chest ached like I hadn't tasted a sip of water in centuries, and I winced and shifted, trying to sit up.

“Careful, you just nearly died, take it slow.” A big, calloused hand slipped under my arm and helped me move until I was propped up on my side. My eyes landed on the pitcher with water on the night stand, and Cassian clearly read the desperation in my eyes, because he quickly filled a glass and handed it to me. My fingers grasped the cold crystal, almost slipping, and Cassian steadied it, helping me gulp down all of it before refilling it.

After I had guzzled down another full glas, he sent me a smirk. “Better?”

I breathed out before slowly sitting up fully, wincing softly. My chest felt sore, like one big bruise, and when I dipped my head, I caught a glimpse at bandages wrapped over my chest beneath the wide shirt I was wearing.

Shifting, I straightened, feeling my brows furrow as my eyes moved over the room we were in. I knew it was the townhouse, but not the guestroom I had stayed in before, nor any of the other rooms I knew. It was dark and clean but warm and homely, with books sitting next to the fireplace, the armchair pulled up next to the bed –

Something dipped under my ribs when I recognized the scent filling my lungs.

My heart swerved and fell, and my gaze darted over to Cassian, something suddenly weighing harshly on my chest as my hoarse voice rasped through my throat.

“Where's Azriel?”

Cassian stared at me, and one corner of his lips slowly quirked upwards, like he was wondering whether I had hit my head.

“What?!” I felt my heart pulse harshly.

Cass blinked.

“He's fine.” Placing the glass back on the nightstand, he huffed softly and raised his brows, the curve of his lips deepening into a smirk. “Though I would really like to know what happened in that forest now.”

My breath caught in my throat, and I could feel heat threatening to flood my cheeks, but that rising feeling in my chest was too forceful to let me linger on it.

“Why?” My gaze darted over Cassian's face, and he seemed to see the panic beginning to pulse under my ribs, because he blinked again, one corner of his lips tipping up in a light grin.

“Because in 400 years, I've not once seen him like this. He wouldn't leave your side. He didn't eat, didn't sleep, he barely let anyone touch you, snarled at anyone who got too close to you –“ He huffed. “Rhys actually had to knock him out so he could get some rest because he just refused to even take a nap, let alone leave the room –“

My heart dropped and swerved, and suddenly, something closed around my throat.

I blinked, then I turned and slid off the mattress. The world swayed a little when I pushed myself to my feet, but I held onto the bedpost.

“Where is he?”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Cass straightening as I looked around for pants, his brows crunching as he squinted in soft concern.

“Are you sure you –“

I whirled around to glare at him, something squeezing tightly under my ribs.

“Where is he?!”

Cassian stared at me, and one corner of his lips ticked up in a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“Guestroom.“

I turned around and darted towards the door. I just heard his soft huff, then I was out in the corridor.

It was clear my body wasn't ready to be moving quickly yet. I almost stumbled before reaching the stairs, an ache settling in my chest and knees wobbling, but I pushed against it. Hurrying down the stairs, my bare feet flying over the steps, my fingers gripped the banister as I skidded around the corner of the landing and down another flight of stairs into a long hallway, and –

Behind me, a door was ripped open, and when I whirled around, my breath caught in my throat.

My heart skipped once, then it settled.

Azriel stilled. His wild gaze raced over me, tracking over the huge shirt and my bare legs, my hair that had come undone, and something deepened in his stare, became dark and blazing. In turn, my eyes flitted over him, drinking him in, tall and towering as always, hair tousled but clean, shoulders tense and still under his loose shirt, and something twinged in my chest, rising and pulsing as his eyes settled on mine.

Azriel's iris flared and his jaw shifted. Something that looked like desperation crossed over his face, followed by something heated and all consuming. Then he moved, stalking towards me.

My feet unfroze, and before thinking about it, without needing to, I darted forward, racing to meet him.

The impact of my body crashing into Azriel's should have sent him stumbling. But he stayed steady like a rock, scooping me up into his arms as mine wrapped around his neck, clinging to him, my fingers digging into his shoulders, a tremble running through me.

My heart squeezed, so harshly, my breath hitched in a soft sound, and Azriel pulled me closer like he'd felt it, tension keeping his body taut as he slid his arms around me until there was no place I couldn't feel him, his tall body curving as he dragged me up and into his chest and dropped his head to bury his face in the crook of my neck.

Something turned in my chest, warm and aching, and I clung to him, heat rising and pulsing under my ribs when I squeezed my eyes shut quickly and tried to breathe past the tremble in my body, a tightness in my throat as I pressed my face into his neck, his scent flowing into my nose and causing my heart to rise.

“You're okay.” Azriel's voice vibrated through me, deep, low, hoarse, leaving something squeezing in my chest as his hand closed around the back of my head, holding me to him. His arm tightened its grip around my waist until I nodded into his neck, wrapping my arms closer around his shoulders, my fingers sinking into his hair.

Azriel made a soft noise deep in his chest, pressing his nose into my skin, and I felt his shoulders sag. His body melted into mine, his wings shuddered, and something turned over in my chest, beginning to flutter quickly when he slid his arms tighter around me, pulling me further into his chest.

We didn't move until my calves started aching from holding my weight up on my toes and I slowly dropped back onto my heels. Azriel's arms slid off my waist, and when I raised my head, his rough hands slipped up to cradle my neck, tipping my head up. His eyes pierced mine as his throat worked, jaw shifting, his amber eyes swirling like a storm, and my breath hitched.

I barely noticed the heavy footsteps on the stairs until a deep, amused voice sounded somewhere behind me.

“Nice panties, sweetheart.”

Azriel's head whipped up, his eyes flared, and a deep growl vibrated through his chest.

There was a low chuckle.

“Alright, I'm going, I'm going –“

Azriel glared over my head until heavy footsteps moved towards the stairs, and when I threw a quick look over my shoulder, Cassian sent me a smirk and a playful wink.

There was a soft soft snarl rumbling in Azriel's chest, and Cass snickered and turned, disappearing down the stairs without a care.

Tension radiated through Azriel's body until Cassian's footsteps faded away, his eyes glaring at the spot he'd stood in. It caused something to dip in my chest, and I hesitated, slowly moving back a little and swallowing as I looked up at him only to find his eyes on me again, watching me, steady, deep, his gaze swirling with a tumble of emotion.

Something rose under my ribs, fluttering wildly, and my breath caught in my throat. Suddenly, my heart was thumping harshly.

Like he could sense it, felt the same sensation pulling at his chest, Azriel's gaze shifted, became molten and soft. Then he straightened, and his hands slid away from my body without pressure, leaving me close enough I could still feel the warmth radiating from his chest, feel him, but with enough space between us my thoughts slowly calmed enough to be steady.

My heart pulsed, and a gentle knot formed in my throat as I stared up at him.

My stomach twisted before letting out a soft rumble, and I blinked and made a face. Something tumbled against my ribs when I looked up at Azriel, feeling my brows draw together as I steeled myself, ready for him to go off, telling me I should've watched my back, had been reckless –

But Azriel's eyes just moved over my face, heated, dark, almost like he was drinking me in. Then he blinked, and one corner of his lips twitched just barely.

“Put on some pants.”

The door to the kitchen was open, and I heard voices, but I was too distracted by the delicious scent whafting through the hall to really focus on it. My stomach grumbled and twisted, and when I breathed in deeply, my eyes fluttered and I almost melted on the spot. My gaze immediately narrowed in onto the steaming pots on the stove and the smells lacing the air, causing a soft whine to break from my throat.

“Easy, sweetheart.” Cassian's deep voice ripped me out of the haze. “No one's gonna wolf it all down in the next few minutes, there's plenty left for you." I could hear his smirk. "Even though you look like you might wolf it down like a starved kitten.”

Somehow tearing my gaze away from the food, I started to scowl at the Lord of Bloodshed who was lounging on one of the chairs at the big table, just winking at me with a shit-eating grin.

“Azriel.” Rhys, leaned back at the head of the table leisurely, stared over my shoulder, watchful, though with a slight quirk to his lips.

Something brushed against my shoulder, then Azriel appeared at the corner of my eye, towering, relaxed, just lightly raising a brow.

A twinkle formed in Rhys' eyes, and he nodded softly. Then his eyes turned towards me, darkness tapping against the walls of my mind.

“Are you alright?”

My stomach grumbled, and Rhys broke into a smirk.

“Nevermind.”

“Cassian, I want to see you after not eating for days.” Feyre's dry voice made me break my staring contest with the Lord of Bloodshed. I hadn't even noticed her standing over at the stove until she appeared in front of me and wrapped me up in a tight hug, squeezing me carefully.

“I'm glad you're awake,”, she mumbled into my shoulder, and something clenched gently in my chest as I quickly wrapped my arms around her and squeezed back.

“Me too,”, I whispered softly.

Something clattered behind me, and just as I jumped lightly and tried to crane my neck, another body collided with mine, causing me to stumble forward into Feyre and a soft sound to leave me at the slight jab of pain pulsing through my ribs.

A familiar scent filled my nose, blond hair filled my vision, and there was a soft sound somewhere next to my ear.

“Hi,”, Mor mumbled into my neck, and I crunched my brows, managing to free one arm and reaching up to blindly pat her cheek, accidentally hitting her nose.

“Hi.”

Feyre pulled back, grinning, but Mor held onto me for another few seconds, squeezing tightly before pulling back enough to frown, quickly scanning me. “Are you okay?”

My stomach grumbled pitifully, and Cassian snorted softly.

“I'll get you something.” Feyre turned around, and Mor pressed a kiss onto my cheek and slipped past me, taking a seat at the table as Feyre filled a plate with mashed potatoes and stew, the smell nearly making me groan.

Feyre turned, and something warm brushed my side when Azriel moved past me. His scent rose into my nose, and my eyes strayed after him for a second until Feyre offered me the plate with a light grin.

I hesitated, my eyes flickering towards the table.

The distance between every free seat and Azriel, who had moved to the other side of the kitchen, closing the pots before turning to lean against the counter, caused a soft, highly irrational but very real ache to pulse through my chest.

My heart thrummed once.

I blinked and accepted the plate, and before I could change my mind, I slipped past Feyre, moving past the table and making my way over to the counter.

I could feel Azriel's eyes on me as I placed my plate on the marble and pulled a crystal glass and a decanter towards me.

Hesitating for a second, I turned my head just a little.

The shadowsinger's gaze pierced mine, steady, calm. His wing nearly brushed my shoulder, and I could feel whisps of darkness gently grazing my ankles before wrapping around them like a soft greeting. His shoulders looked more relaxed than a second ago, and his golden eyes slowly flickered over mine.

My heart squeezed gently, and warmth slowly spread through my chest.

Because even though Azriel just looked at me, I knew the thought of me taking the seat at the table had caused the same unease in his chest it had sparked in mine.

Like just like me, he felt the same shift in the air between us - to not being able to stand the thought of merely a few feet of distance.

Blinking, I turned my gaze back ahead, pouring a generous amount of liquid into my glass and trying to swallow against the something fluttering in my throat.

I was sure Madja would have a choice of words about me drinking alcohol, my body barely over the effect of the herbs she'd used to speed up my healing.

But I really needed a drink.

Turning, I pulled myself up onto the smooth marble, wincing a little at the twinge under my ribs before picking up the glass. But before I could raise it towards my lips, it was plucked out of my fingers.

My eyes snapped up and narrowed in an incredulous scowl, and Azriel glared back.

For a second, we just glowered at each other, irritation rising and swarming under my ribs. But instead of consuming me like it always had, causing me to snap or shoot a sharp, challenging remark his way, it was quickly swallowed.

Drowned by something else that rose in my chest as I stared into Azriel's eyes, something warm and pulsing that made my heart skip and breath hitch, and suddenly, my lips curved upwards until I couldn't stop them from twitching lightly.

Azriel's gaze shifted, narrowed in, and a slow twinkle spread through his iris.

For another moment, we stared at each other while I tried to ignore the growing flutter in my chest, the hitch in my breath and the skip of my heart. Then I forced my gaze away from Azriel's, turning it back ahead – and stilling.

Everyone in the kitchen was staring at Azriel and me. Mor's brows were crunched, eyes narrowed as one corner of her lips curved upwards in disbelief. Feyre blinked, looking torn between bafflement and a strange kind of elation, and Cassian's eyebrows were raised impressively high. Rhys' eyes were twinkling.

I blinked and frowned.

“What?”

My stomach grumbled, and shrugging, I pulled up my legs and crossed them. Then, ignoring Mor's slightly pained look towards my socks resting on the polished marble, I started digging in.

I didn't listen to anything until half the plate was polished off. Only then, the ache in my stomach lessened, had I relaxed enough to actually tune into the conversation.

“ – so Mor is winnowing over before the rest of us to make sure everything is ready for tonight.”

I crunched my brows and slowed my chewing.

Tonight?

“What's tonight?”, I mumbled around a mouth full of potato.

“The masquerade.” Feyre sent me a light, mischievous grin, and I blinked.

“That's tonight?”

Once a year, Rhys threw a masquerade ball in the halls of the palace in the Court of Nightmares. On the outside, it was to keep the residents in his favor, and to remind him of their High Lord´s power. The masks usually came off quite quickly, and it became the occasion to reevaluate knowledge.

It was a night where the rich and powerful of the Court of Nightmares gathered for lavish entertainment and other enjoyments in the palace, where Rhys and Feyre played the role of the ruthless rulers, and the rest of us slipped into the crowd, taking the opportunity of all of the most influencial of the Hewn City residents in one place - to listen.

Wine loosened the tongue, and with so many people with big egos and a distaste for their High Lord in one place, one learned a lot once the entertainment was flowing, the last of the inhibitions were thrown away for the night and challenges were made.

“It is, and we all can hardly wait.” Cassian was smirking as he got to his feet. Sauntering over, he picked up my abandoned glass before reaching towards my plate -

I growled, and Cassian chuckled easily, his eyes twinkling as he shrugged and turned around, chugging down the liquid.

Glaring after him, I turned my attention back to my plate, but my gaze got caught on Azriel.

Cassian's voice echoed through my head.

“He didn't eat, didn't sleep –“

Something tightened in my chest.

Blinking, I slid one of my legs off the counter and softly nudged the side of Azriel's thigh with my foot. He turned his head towards me, and wordlessly, I ladled some potato and sauce onto my spoon and held it out towards him.

Azriel's gaze flickered down towards the food and then back up towards me, and I narrowed my eyes, glaring at him.

I know you haven't eaten. Take it, now.

The shadowsinger's gaze shifted, became deep and twinkling as it narrowed in onto mine. Then he dipped his head, and my heart skipped softly as I held the spoon steady until he straightened again, chewing and swallowing. Something rose and fluttered under my ribs, and I had to fight the way my lips curved.

It took a heartbeat until I realized the kitchen had quieted down.

I blinked, then I looked back ahead.

If the others had been staring before, they were positively gaping now.

“What?” I stared back indignantly, trying to fight the way my ears heated as I glowered at them before turning back towards my plate.

Rhys cleared his throat, his eyes twinkling as he turned back towards the others. Cassian glowered at me and my plate for another second, then he huffed and shook his head, his lips twitching upwards.

“Anyway.” Mor smiled, wrily, prettily. “Seems like this time, I'm going to have to charm the lovely souls by myself.”

I felt my brows crunch. “No, no; I'm coming.”

The others exchanged a look, then Feyre's brows furrowed gently.

“Are you sure?”

I huffed. “I am sure that Mor can not work the whole room herself. Madja can check me if you want, but I'm fine. I'll manage an evening smiling prettily and not stabbing anyone." I felt my lips quirk. "And unless you want to make Cassian wear a revealing dress to charm some stuck up assholes, you need me, so I am coming.”

Rhys chuckled. “I think she'll be fine.”

Cassian smirked, dragging his eyes over me. “More than fine.”

There was a soft growl next to me, my heart skipped high, and when my gaze flew over, Azriel was staring at Cassian. His eyes were flaring, but Cassian just winked at him, his eyes alight with mischief.

Rhys cleared his throat. If possible, his violet eyes twinkled even more than Cassian's as he lightly raised a brow at his Spymaster.

“Alright…” Mor squinted, her brows crunching. “I guess that's settled then?”

My eyes flickered over the side of Azriel's face, something shifting in my chest as I waited for the inevitable scowl, dark narrowed eyes, and glare towards me followed by stating how reckless me going so shortly after having only just started recovering would be.

But Azriel just leaned against the counter, his shadows gently swirling around my ankle as he turned his head, his golden eyes steadily piercing mine.

"But you'll see Madja before you go.”

Blinking and tearing my gaze away from Azriel's, I found Feyre staring at me, and I felt my lips curve mischievously as I widened my eyes.

“I will. And I will go on bedrest for the next week, if you want me to.” I turned back towards my plate, mumbling: “I'll probably have to, just to recover from all the bullshit we'll have to listen to tonight.”

“Then it is settled.” Rhys leaned back, his arm lazily perched on the back of Feyre's chair. “Anything else?”

Mor started talking about the masks and clothes that would be waiting at Hewn City, and I focused back on my food. Shadows slowly brushed around my ankle as once in a while, I held a spoon out to Azriel.

Carefully, I straightened the straps of my dress, then I raised my head.

Madja had cleared me to go, with reservation, a grouchy look and the order to not strain the scar that had come to light once she had taken off the bandages. It was still fresh, and pulled lightly when I moved in certain ways, but apart from the fact that my chest still felt a little bruised, I was as good as new.

Mostly.

Mor had winnowed the both of us into the Hewn City right after to make sure everything was going to plan. Now, I was standing in my room in the castle deep under the mountain, held in rich dark colors and fairly unused. The wardrobe was filled with dresses that fit the fashion down here, with little fabric and little color. Mor had given me my mask, black intricate swirls that laid snug on my skin, covering the upper part of my face. I had chosen a fitting dress, made from silk that was black like the night, long and sleek, with slits that reached the top of my thighs and bared my legs, and a low neckline.

The little fabric took getting used to, but at least it meant there wasn't a lot to restrict movement.

Picking up a pair of shoes with sturdy, high heels, I sat down on the edge of the bed, sliding my foot into one of them. Wincing at the soft twinge in my chest, I started to tightly lace the shoe to my foot.

It took me slightly longer than usual, the pull of the scar making me sit up half way through and huff a breath out of my nose.

I was getting ready to start lacing the second when the air shifted.

My gaze darted up, darkness rose, and Azriel stepped out of the shadows.

My heart dipped, and my breath caught in my throat. He was wearing his leathers, the shoulder plates shimmering in the firelight, fingerless gloves slipped over his hands, Truthteller strapped to his leg. His eyes flickered golden as I slowly straightened, trying to suppress the urge to swallow, something fluttering high in my chest.

Azriel's gaze flickered down my body, and something twisted in my stomach when his gaze became deeper, more heated.

My skin tingled, and his eyes returned to mine, dark and piercing. Then he moved.

His footsteps were silent, swallowed by the carpet, shadows swishing softly and brushing gently over my bare skin as he moved towards me, eyes piercing mine. The closer he got, the harsher the flutter in my chest got, the stronger the rising feeling. Then Azriel reached the end of the bed.

His scent washed over me, and my breath caught in my throat when he leaned down and, without hesitation, dropped onto one knee.

My heart rose. Then it stilled.

Scarred fingers, calloused and warm, slipped around my ankle, and Azriel lifted my leg, placing the foot with the unlaced heel on his bowed knee. His fingers skimmed up my ankle, picking up the laces, and without even throwing me a look, he started wrapping them around my calf, his knuckles brushing my skin.

I swallowed, trying to fight against the weight that had suddenly closed around my throat as I stared at his face, like carved from shadows, both soft and sharp at the same time. His muscles shifted under his leathers, stance steady, and somehow, I found my voice, surprisingly firm, and a little defiant.

“Aren't you going to tell me that this is reckless, considering I've just been shot?”

I barely suppressed a shudder when Azriel's fingers dragged down the side of my ankle, something twisting in my lower stomach.

“Even if I did tell you that you could do with some rest instead of this, it wouldn't stop you.” Azriel's deep voice was slow, steady, sounding a little irritated and, at the same time, almost reluctantly amused.

My breath hitched.

The shadowsinger carefully tied up the laces before raising his head, and there was a barely there twinkle to his iris as his gaze dragged over my face. “If anything, you'd want to do it even more just to piss me off.”

I huffed and narrowed my eyes, and the corner of Azriel's lips curved just the lightest bit.

Trying not to swallow, I stared at him.

“If you know that, why did you still always push?”

Azriel's eyes pierced mine, and his voice sent shivers over my spine, low, deep, steady.

“Because I lose every ounce of control and logic around you. Because some twisted part of me liked that you pushed back, never backed down, not even from me." His jaw shifted. "Because it pisses me off how easily you're willing to put yourself in danger for someone else.” His gaze dragged over my face, blazing slightly. “Because being mad at you for doing that was easier than admitting why it bothers me so fucking much in the first place.”

My heart was rising under my ribs, pulsing harshly.

“Why does it bother you?”, I whispered.

Azriel's eyes became molten, and his voice vibrated through me, almost strained.

“Because just the thought of you getting hurt makes me lose my fucking mind.”

I stared back at him, something churning in my chest.

The next words tumbled from my lips slightly pressed.

“Are you telling me all of this because you think you need to prove something?”

Something in Azriel's iris flared, became piercing.

“I'm telling you because I was a fool for not doing it before. And because I will never hide how I feel about you from you again.” A muscle in his jaw shifted, his deep voice a little rough when he mumbled: “That already cost me enough.”

This time, I did swallow, harsh and slow.

Silence settled over the room as Azriel and I stared at each other. Almost on eye level, my foot still sitting onto his knee, my shin almost touching his chest, I was close enough that I could feel him, could feel the strength in his body, the steadiness and weight of his stare.

Azriel's fingers, loosely wrapped around my calf, shifted, his thumb beginning to draw gentle, slow circles on my skin. Shadows whispered around the edge of my skirt, gently brushing over my legs, and Azriel blinked. His brows crunched a little, then he tipped his head to the side.

His hand loosened its grip on my ankle, rough skin brushing over mine, leaving goosebumps in its wake as Azriel moved his hand up over my knee and my thigh and carefully pulled the fabric of my dress to the side where the slit had hiked up and now almost reached the crease where my hip and thigh met – revealing silver daggers strapped to my leg.

Azriel's eyes grew deep and molten as his fingers traced my thigh, outlining one of the blades and causing my heart to catch in my throat. Then they rose to meet mine, and I swallowed softly and shrugged, feeling my lips curve cheekily.

“I've been told I have a tendency to be reckless and get myself into trouble.”

Azriel's gaze dragged over mine, heavy, blazing, and slowly, very slowly, one corner of his lips turned upwards.

Something in my chest pulsed. Then it rose in a wild flutter.

Azriel's hand slipped down again, sliding into the crook of my knee. His thumb slowly traced over my skin, and shivers travelled up my body, causing my heart to swell and flutter. His eyes pierced mine, and something toppled in my chest at the heat flaring in his eyes, swirling with want and warmth and longing, and something else so deep and all consuming, my breath trembled.

I opened my mouth, but before I could say something; what, I wasn't really sure myself, there was a light knock against the door.

I jumped slightly, tearing my gaze away from Azriel's just in time to hear Mor's voice sound through the wood.

“It's me. Meet you down the hall in a minute, Rhys has given the go.”

Azriel's hand lifted my leg, and when my eyes darted back towards him, he carefully placed my foot on the floor before rising to his full height. His eyes met mine, molten gold, then he held out a hand.

Swallowing softly and feeling my brows crease, I slid my fingers over his palm, and Azriel pulled me to my feet. His hand slipped out of mine, then it slid around my waist, turning me around.

My breath caught in my throat when Azriel's chest brushed against my back, shadows whispering around me. Then something dark was lowered over my face, and when I reached up in reflex, my fingers brushed over soft material, molding to my face until only my eyes were uncovered.

Fingers brushed my temple, then Azriel tied the black silk ribbon at the back of my head. My heart thrummed against my ribs when I quickly looked up at him over my shoulder, and Azriel's breath fanned over my skin when he dipped his head lightly, his dark eyes steadily piercing mine, his low voice a little hoarse when he mumbled: “Every bone in my body."

My breath faltered, simply ceased as my heart rose, and shadows swallowed Azriel, leaving only a few to gently curl around my wrists, sliding between my fingers.

Every fiber of my soul.

All yours.

The revel had already been well underway when Mor and I had entered the throne room.

Masked Fae were everywhere, dressed so scantily, some wore basically nothing at all. The air was thick with fumes and alcohol, laughter loud over music and revel, the crowd parting only occasionally. Dancers grinding to the deep, compelling music, couples in dark corners, a few jugglers and flame breathers earning applause.

It had been easy to slip into the crowd without anyone even noticing. Move through the people, listening, smiling, charming, saving every bit of information to share later. I caught glimpses of Cassian, standing on the dais slightly behind the throne, watchful, his dark eyes flickering over the room, or a little behind Feyre and Rhys when they moved through the crowd, making conversation here and there, the picture of ruthlessness and beauty. Sometimes, my way crossed Mor's, her hair braided out of her face, her dark dress blending it seemlessly, exchanging information in soft whispers, or in taps against a wine glass.

I didn't see Azriel. But I felt him. Felt shadows brushing against my skin in the thick crowd, winding around my ankles gently, and eyes on me wherever I was in the room.

Plucking a glass from the tray of a nearby waiting faerie, I leaned against one of the huge columns lining the edge of the room, letting my gaze slowly trail over the crowd as I took a sip of wine. Ignoring the leering gazes from males passing, I swirled my wine around in my glass slowly and caught Mor's gaze over the crowd. She looked ready to roll her eyes at whatever nonsense the male next to her was spewing, her nails tapping against her arm even as she smiled at him, sweetly and charmingly.

Asshole.

Turning my eyes away with a suppressed grin, I contemplated diving into the crowd again when a voice whafted through the noise from somewhere on the other side of the pillar.

“ – these bastards in our city.”

I felt my brows furrow just barely and turned my head slightly, focusing on the snarling voice.

“Look at them. Parading around like we belong to them. Everyone knows none of us pledged loyalty to that half-breed.”

My spine bristled slightly.

Most inhabitants of the Hewn City shared a view towards Rhys.

Usually none of them were dumb enough to discuss these views out loud. Especially not when he was in the room.

But there were always the rogue ones foolish enough to think he wouldn't know.

Shifting lightly, I tilted my head to look around the pillar.

The owner of the drawling voice was standing in a small circle of males, looking like they'd all thoroughly enjoyed the debauchery and revel, wine glasses full, upper buttons undone and baring flushed necks. The male talking, tall, dark haired and handsome, stared towards the dais, a disgusted look in his eyes.

“Look at him and his whore. Protected by that bastard Illyrian.”

The hairs at the back of my neck rose, and I felt my eyes slowly narrow to slits as something hot began swirling slowly in my chest.

Careful now, sweetheart. You're about to get burned very badly by your own tongue.

“You can tell all about his judgement by the mutts he's surrounding himself with. Throwing this court to the dogs. Giving our females to those winged brutes.” The male scowled, his eyes blazing. “Lord of Bloodshed. Laughable. Nothing more than a bastard with a stolen title. Destroying our bloodlines by making our females spread their legs for his scum. Think of Keir's daughter. That bitch is now one of his.”

Something curled tightly in my chest, heat washing over me as I slowly placed my glass on a passing tray.

I'd heard enough.

If I didn't move away now, there was no guarantee I wouldn't forget about leaving this bastard to Rhys and go straight for the male's throat.

I got ready to slide into the crowd, pushing off the column to make my way over to the dais – when the male's slow drawl made me freeze in the spot.

“Don't get me started on the other one. Shadowsinger." He scoffed. "Nothing but a rabid dog on a leash. Have you seen his hands? It's grotesque. Here, something like that wouldn't carry weapons. It'd be tied up in a dungeon.”

The noise in the room faded away as something rose in my chest, deadly quiet.

It turned and twisted until blinding hot and pulsing. All reason slipped away, until the only thing left was the instinct to rip through the male's throat, tear him to shreds for the words he'd dared to speak.

My hand slipped into the slit of my dress, and my voice cut through the noise, the laughter and music.

“You know, you really should be careful.”

The males looked over their shoulders in surprise and disdain, and I slinked out of the shadows, feeling the rage pulse under my ribs as I leaned against the pillar, smiling wickedly. “Or you might be the one ending up in a dungeon.”

The dark haired male straightened slowly, a dark twinkle entering his gaze as it slowly dragged over my body. One corner of his lips curled into a leering smile, and he raised a brow.

“Worried about me, sweetheart?”

A snarl built in my throat, but I fixed it into a grin before tipping my head to the side and furrowing my brows innocently. “Can you blame me? I've heard it's garstly down there. So dark and cold. Isn't it true even the Darkbringers are frightened of going down there?”

The male smirked, eyes following the curve of my body. “We're not frightened of anything.”

I slowly started to smile widely.

“Really?” I crunched my brows and pouted softly, feeling my lips twitch mischievously as I looked up at him through my lashes. “Why's a tough male like you just standing around here all on your lonesome?”

The dark haired male's smirk deepend, but before he could open his mouth, I narrowed my eyes at him in thought, the corner of my lips curving wickedly.

“Is it because you manage to light such fireworks of warmth and kindness?” Mockingly, I raised a brow, my lips twitching. “Every female must love that. The arrogance. The cruelty, the cowardice. The lack of respect for anyone you deem below you, when really you are the one proving just how little respect you deserve. The brashness, the cockiness.” I grinned viciously, letting my gaze drag slowly over his body until it rested below his belt. “Well, maybe you're just trying to make up for lacking something in – other departments.”

The males looked amusingly shocked for a second. Then the dark haired one slowly slipped into a menacing snarl.

“You –“

“You know, I think I got it.” I pushed off the pillar and slid my fingers under the silk band of my mask. “Maybe us females that spread our legs for those bastards…“, I pulled, and the fabric slid off my face as I smiled wickedly, “are just simply sick of the actual bastards like you.”

The male's eyes narrowed sharply, and he bared his teeth. “You. You're one of his whores.”

Tutting, I smiled brightly and cheekily, letting go of my mask and sauntering closer, smoothly sliding a dagger from its sheath in the shadows. “Now, now, careful. You already gambled away your tongue, you're about to loose so much more.”

The male moved forward, towering, dark and angry, and his eyes flashed. “That can be prevented.”

I grinned, fury raging in my chest, vibrating under my skin.

“Please try.”

The male's eyes became slits, and he snarled as the other males around him moved out of his way, beginning to prowl towards me. “You are in far over your head. I could snap that pretty little neck in an instant, but where's the fun in that?” He smirked leeringly. “We'll have some fun first, and you'll see what you´d been missing, spreading your legs for me too, like a good little s-“

It happened in the span of a heartbeat.

Darkness grasped the male, and his back crashed against the pillar, a tall, towering figure on him, their bodies shaking from the impact as huge wings flared and shadows whirled and scarred fingers wrapped around the male´s throat and squeezed.

My heart dipped and stilled.

Azriel's face was frozen to stone, the only sign of the deadly rage flaring within him the blazing fire in his eyes as he dipped his head and growled: “I'll kill you.”

The other males pulled themselves out of their shock. Two came at me while shadows wrapped around the others like shackles, but I was quicker.

Ducking under the swinging arm of the first, my fingers closed around his wrist, and I whirled around until our backs collided and I wrapped my arm over his neck to slice my blade over his throat. I could feel his body spasm in my back, and something hot and wet spattered my skin.

I moved before his body even collapsed to the ground, dropping to dodge the arm of the second and sliding over the marble, slicing the back of his knee with my dagger. My dress flared around me as I turned, baring the daggers sheathed at the tops of my thighs, and I pushed myself up, another daggers sliding into my hand as the male's leg buckled and he went to his knees. His head whipped up, my daggers pressed against his skin, one over his throat and the other pointed at the back of his neck, causing him to freeze, and my head swept around as I snarled at the others.

“Don't fucking touch him.”

The male tried to grab at Azriel's hand that slowly but surely cut off his air supply, but the shadowsinger didn't move, just stared at him with that flaring, merciless fire blazing in his eyes, body rippling with tension, darkness whipping around his wings.

The crowd rustled as guards slipped out of the wide circle that had formed. The commotion must have attracted their attention, ready to break off the brawl – Rhys wasn't interested in too much of a bloodspill. But they visibly hesitated as their gazes flickered between me, Azriel, and the male that wheezed, trying to scratch at the shadowsinger's hands as he gurgled: “What – are you – waiting – for –“

Azriel's eyes darkend, and the male broke off, his eyes bulging. I snarled, sliding the tip of my knife higher up the kneeling male's throat as my gaze pierced the guards. They might have been sworn loyal to Rhys, but he wasn't around right now, and many of them shared the same view the male had paraded around.

Something skipped high against my ribs; I threw a look over my shoulder, and the same moment, Azriel turned his head.

Amber eyes clashed with mine; blazing, raging darkness, and showing a silent question, offer, reassurance.

My heart dipped. Then it rose.

I pushed away the male at my feet and turned smoothly, and Azriel's wings flared, spread menacingly as he let go of the male who lost his footing and collapsed, stepping back until we were back to back. Shadows wrapped around my arms and waist, possively, protectively, the breeze of the ones swirling around Azriel's wings causing the whisps of hair falling into my face to flutter as I flipped my daggers around, the blades pressing against the insides of my arms as I snarled at anyone who moved just a breath out of the circle. I could feel Azriel towering in my back, could feel the brush of his shoulder blades against my head, the power radiating off him in waves.

The guards exchanged quick glances.

“What are you waiting for?!” The male grasped his throat, his gaze raging with hate as he pushed himself to his feet, pointing towards us. “That fucking bastard was about to kill me, and that bitch actually sliced one of our own's throat!”

The guards hesitated, and the male barked: “Kill them!”

Azriel snarled softly, his wings rustling as his shadows whispered over my skin in a caress, and my heart rose as I readied myself, adrenaline rushing through my body and causing my lips to curve into a challenging, deadly grin as I fixed my eyes onto the nearest guard.

“I'll fucking do it myself!” The male ripped the sword off a guard and turned.

But before he could advance, before I could ready my dagger, the crowd shifted.

The guards stilled in place. Darkness rippled, power causing the ground to tremble. Then there was a low, familiar chuckle.

“Now, now…”

The male's gaze whipped around, and Rhys stepped out of the crowd, his violet eyes twinkling wickedly as he straightened his sleeve. They pierced the male who paled slightly, then they slowly turned towards Azriel and me.

“Even though I certainly wouldn't blame you for killing the worm with the bad manners right here and now, I am going to have to remind you of the mess it would leave.” He dipped his head with a feline smirk. “It would be such tedious work to scrub even more blood off the floors.”

The males blanched, but the dark haired one clenched his teeth, apparently gaining back some of his bravado as he pointed at me.

“This female –“

Rhys' gaze whipped around, becoming sharp as darkness built around him, and the male fell quiet like someone had closed a hand over his mouth.

“Careful about finishing that sentence.” Rhys' voice was deep and rumbling and every part the High Lord he was when he stared at the male, power radiating off him and causing the male to step back like his body had forced him to.

“Maybe rethink on whether to finish it at all. Because even if I wasn't very inclined towards having people's heads for the things that just left your worthless mouth, as you might have noticed, this female is very capable of holding her own. Not to mention -“ Rhys' eyes flashed with the smirk he sent the male and dipped his chin towards Azriel. “He would tear you apart before you even finished whatever vile excuse of an opinion you were about to voice. And what an upsetting sight for my guests to witness your insides spilling all over the floors.”

The male blinked, and even though his jaw worked, he paled.

“As for the plain slander you spewed directed towards my Spymaster…” Rhys' eyes were blazing even as he smirked. “He doesn't care enough about opinions to shred you to pieces for parading them around. I however do, and this one,”, his gaze was twinkling wickedly he inclined his head towards me, “even more. She gets quite protective of those she cares about. And won't have anyone spewing insults of such kind without facing dire consequences.” Rhys sent him a feline smile. “And the only reason she won't be ripping out your throat right here and now is that she knows I would rather not have her ruin such expensive silk with something as meaningless as your blood.”

The male blinked quickly, his cheek muscles working quickly.

“Now, just in case this wasn't already made clear.” Rhys tipped his head to the side, his violet iris losing all twinkle, his smile becoming sharp and vicious. “No one makes the kind of insults you threw around about any member of my court without facing the consequences. And only a fool does so in my presence, thinking that I wouldn't know...”

The male's eyes widened slowly.

Rhys' lips twitched, and he dipped his chin. “Take him away.”

The guards moved, uniforms rustling, and Rhys turned away, raising a brow at the crowd with a wicked smile. "Anyone else would like to add anything?"

The crowd shifted, and Rhys winked, his smirk lazy. "Excellent. That means we can all go back to amusing ourselves." He waved his hand, and slowly, the bystanders started to turn away as the noise of the revel picked up again, laughter echoing under the cavernous ceiling, the fire breathers earning applause from the people who hadn´t even realised anything had been wrong.

I snarled softly when the rest of the males slinked into the shadows, and something heavy slipped off my chest as I felt a soundless breath leave me, adrenaline slowly rushing out of my system.

Then something grazed my back, and my heart rose into my throat.

I hesitated and looked up over my shoulder, and my eyes met amber ones, dark and swirling, piercing mine as shadows slowly whispered around my hands and ribs, gently wrapping around my ankles.

Something pulsed once against my ribs, harsh and quick, and my breath caught.

“Well…”

I blinked, somehow tearing my eyes away from Azriel's, and Rhys arched a brow.

“I had something a little less dramatic planned to re-establish dominance, but this was certainly something people will remember, so who am I to complain.” His lips curved mischievously as he raised a brow. “As entertaining as this was though, I'd rather you not stir up any more trouble tonight, so why don't you two go home.” Stepping back slightly, he winked, his violet eyes twinkling, then darkness swallowed him.

I swallowed softly. Then I looked up at Azriel, and something started rising under my ribs when he turned towards me, his tall body towering over me, shadows softly whispering over his shoulders, and my body followed, like it was made as a mirror.

Something dipped and squeezed in my chest as I tipped up my chin to stare up at him, soared and fluttered when Azriel stared back, head tilted down towards me, so close our chests were brushing. His eyes were dragging over my face, deep, emotion raging within, causing my breath to swell in my throat. Then he turned his gaze down, and my fingers twitched when rough hands carefully slid the daggers out of my grip.

My brows furrowed, and when I followed Azriel's gaze, he wiped the bloody blades clean on the sleeves of his leathers before twirling them around in his grip and leaning down.

His breath brushed over my neck, then his hands slipped under the slits in my dress and slid the daggers back into their empty sheaths.

My heart dipped and fluttered. Heat washed through my body from the place Azriel´s rough fingers grazed my skin, his scent causing my heart to rise in a flutter, then he rose again, and when I looked up at him, feeling something close around my throat, his hand slipped to the small of my back, lightly tugging me forward as his arm wrapped around my waist until my chest was pressed into his.

I inhaled soundlessly, and darkness swallowed us.

When the shadows disappeared, we were standing in Azriel's room in the townhouse.

I hesitated, swallowing softly as I slowly moved backwards, Azriel's hands slipping away from my waist when I raised my head to stare at him, something dipping in my chest.

“I could have handled him.” My voice was soft, so unlike me, something churning in my chest as my heart thumped against my ribs.

“I know.” Azriel's eyes pierced mine.

My heart rose, and I felt my brows draw together desperately.

“Then why did you –“

Azriel moved, and my voice died away when he stalked forward until he was towering over me, his eyes blazing as he stared down at me. “Because you're mine. You might've not been before we went into those godsdamned woods, but you sure as hell are now, and I know that you can fight for yourself, but I am too selfish to not tear apart anyone who dares to try and harm you.”

My heart rose into my throat, and suddenly, breathing felt impossible.

Azriel's jaw flexed, and he dropped his head a little, his eyes piercing mine.

“You're mine.” His throat worked like he was trying to swallow, and his shoulders sank. “And you know that. You know that you are mine, that you belong with me, the same way you know that I am yours – with every fiber of my fucking being.” His gaze darted over my face, blazing, desperate.

“You know it, because it pulls you towards me just like it pulls me towards you, because just the thought of being away from each other makes you ache, because the thought of losing each other makes you feel like you're going to lose your mind. Because anyone threatening to harm me makes you want to rip them apart.” His throat worked as he stared at me, eyes steady.

“That's what was scaring you.” His voice was hoarse but fiery. "Because for some reason, it hasn't gotten into your head that I'm not going anywhere. That I belong to you just as much as you belong to me, maybe even more, and that it's not going to stop.”

Something tightened in my chest, and I tried to fight the rising feeling, feeling my fingers curl together to hold onto something.

“How do you want to know that?”

The whispered words were out before I could stop them, weak, scared, terrified.

But Azriel's eyes just dragged over mine, drinking me in, that deep, all consuming thing rising in his iris until it swallowed everything.

“I just do.” His quiet, raw voice caused a shudder to run down my spine. “The same way I know there's stars in the sky and earth under my feet.”

I stared at him, feeling my breath tremble, and something began to ache in my chest.

“What if I fall? What if I go down?”

The words tumbled from my lips, shaking, thick, but Azriel just stared at me, calm, steady, unshakable, his voice hoarse when he mumbled: “Then I'll catch you. Or we go down together.”

The ache in my chest grew, rising, like a storm as I tried to fight against the pressure in my throat and drank in the male standing before me, tall, unfaltering, eyes soft and burning, and my heart pulsed, thrumming against my ribs, firmer and firmer until my breath stilled.

I moved, and the ache in my chest tightened before erupting, turning to clouds of stardust when I stretched and pulled Azriel down to kiss him desperately.

A soft hoarse sound left the shadowsinger, and his hands slipped to the back of my neck, dragging me forward into his chest as he dipped his head and kissed back like he'd been made for nothing else.

My heart soared as my fingers tug into his waist, twisting and pulsing under my ribs as I pushed closer, Azriel's scent filling my lungs, causing a whimper to build in my throat as one of my hands slid up to the back of his neck, digging into his hair to pull him down, closer, just closer.

Azriel groaned into my mouth, his fingers sliding down to grip my waist as his lips parted mine, his tongue wrestling mine as his hand slid into my hair, tipping my head.

Heat rose from my core, washing through my body as my insides twisted, my hips pushing forward, and Azriel bit into my lower lip before dropping his head. His fingers slipped from my waist to drag one of the straps of my dress down my shoulder, then his hand pressed against my back to arch my body into his touch, and his lips dragged over my nipple.

My insides shuddered, something twisted in my stomach, and my head fell back when Azriel started licking and sucking on the soft skin of my breast, groaning softly with need, his heavy breath fanning over forming bruises as his teeth caught onto my nipple.

My hips jerked, and my fingers dug into Azriel's hair as my body arched into him and a broken sound tore from my throat.

The shadowsinger's breath was ragged against my skin, heavy and uneven, his fingers digging into my waist as he pulled me closer and raised his head to kiss me again, harsh and deep and desperate. His fingers pulled the other strap of my dress off my shoulder, and the silky fabric slipped down my body, a soft groan leaving the back of Azriel's throat when my back arched until my chest pressed into his.

My heart rose in a violent flutter, and I dug my fingers into his hair, kissing back just as desperately. My tongue dragged over Azriel's, and he leaned down, his arm sliding under my ass and lifting me off my feet as he straightened back up.

My legs wrapped around his waist like instinct, my body clinging to his as I curved my hands around the nape of his neck and kissed him breathlessly, feeling everything in my stomach coil at the way his tongue licked into my mouth.

Azriel's steps shook my body as he moved through the room, his wings knocking against books and sending them crashing to the floor. His grip changed, and his arms slid away when he placed me on a cool, smooth surface, his hips pushing my knees apart, and my legs wrapped around his waist, dragging him closer.

Azriel grunted, his hips grinding into mine, and I moaned into his mouth as heat washed through my insides.

Azriel's hands slid down my sides to the holsters wrapped around my thighs. His fingers undid the clasps, and the weapons clattered to the floor as his thumb hooked into the band of my underwear and dragged it down. I kicked it off before trying to wrap my legs back around his waist, but Azriel's calloused fingers closed around my thighs. Then he dragged my legs apart and sank down onto his knees.

My breath caught in my throat, and my heart ceased beating.

Azriel's hands hooked into the back of my knees and dragged me to the edge of the dresser, sliding my legs over his shoulders. Then his eyes found mine, hooded, hazy, deep and flaring, and my lips fell apart when he ran his tongue through my folds.

A deep moan rumbled through Azriel's chest, and my back arched. His hands gripped my hips, then Az pushed closer and started licking broad stripes over me, his tongue flicking over my clit, sending shudders through my body.

My head fell back as my fingers dug into the hard edge of the dresser, my thighs trembling. Deep sounds vibrated through Azriel's body, like somehow, this was bringing him even more pleasure than me, eating me like a male starving, lids fluttering over hazy eyes in which golden flecks were melting together into galaxies.

The sight of him, hair dishevelled, strands curving over his forehead, wings shuddering as he lapped at me, sucking slowly, caused something to twist in my stomach, my insides tightening. My heart thrummed against my ribs, heat running down my spine as it arched, and Azriel hummed, his hands sliding from my hips. He tore his gloves off, then his palms dragged up my legs, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and one slipped between my legs.

"Oh." A soft sound left me, my hips rolled, and Azriel licked over my clit until my body shuddered and his finger slipped into me.

Azriel took me apart with nothing but a few strokes. Then his finger curled, another joined the first, and he harshly sucked at my clit, lapping and licking, and the tightness in my stomach twisted and snapped, bloomed into something that turned my body to stardust and made my insides squeeze and twitch until I clung to Azriel's hair, sounds breaking from my throat that shook the ceiling.

Lazily lapping at my clit, Azriel allowed me to tug him to his feet. Shadows whispered, helping my trembling fingers to begin to get rid off his leathers when he kissed me again, his hands tipping back my head, his tongue slowly, heatedly dragging over mine.

Suddenly, the layers left between us were too much. I ripped at Azriel's armor, sliding it off his shoulders, the leathers following. My nails lightly scratched over his skin as I dragged my hands down his chest, his skin warm and solid under my touch, muscles shifting and shuddering when my legs wrapped around his waist and dragged him forward. I licked over his throat, following the deep sound rumbling in Azriel's chest when my teeth nipped at his jaw, his fingers digging into my thigh, sliding into my hair, and I inhaled with a soft shudder, raising my head and curling my fingers into Azriel's hair when he kissed me harshly.

Azriel's grip tightened, and he lifted me off the dresser. My nipples dragging over his bare chest caused my fingers to dig into his hair, and Azriel growled softly, kissing me harder, more desperate. I could feel his hard cock pushing against his pants as he kicked off his boots, and when I grinded my hips down, my insides twisted at both the friction and the hoarse sound leaving him.

Azriel leaned down, and my heart rose when he dropped me into sheets that smelled like him as much as me, our scents intertwined into something that caused my chest to ache with harsh flutters. Weapons and heavy leather hit the floor, then Azriel was above me, pushing my body up the mattress until I wrapped my legs and arms around him and dragged his heavy body down.

My heart toppled when his warm weight pressed mine into the mattress, causing my hips to buck and back to arch, and Azriel groaned into my neck. His hand dragged my thigh up, his hips lodged right between my legs, and my hand flew up to curl into his hair when the tip of Azriel's cock dragged through my folds.

I choked with a whimper, my lips parting as I twisted back my head. Azriel's hands pressed against the insides of my thighs, pushing them down further, sliding my legs apart until I was spread out entirely beneath him. His nose dragged up my neck, warmth washed over me, and I dug my fingers into his hair. Then he rolled his hips forward.

My lips parted. My back arched as a whimper left me, and my eyes rolled back at the way I felt myself stretch around him, sensation zipping up my spine as my body melted into the mattress.

Azriel grunted, neck straining as he dropped his head against my shoulder and mumbled hoarsely: “Fuck, you´re tight.”

“Oh.” My back arched up into him, my hips twisting, and Azriel growled softly into my neck, one arm hooking under my back to keep me from writhing.

My eyes rolled back as Azriel nudged his hips forward, and my back arched.

“Shit.” My fingers grasped the sheets, twisting, and Azriel grunted against my throat, the sound thick. A shuddering breath left me as my hands flew up to dig into his back, my heart rising into my throat.

My body became a pliant, weightless thing. Where Azriel pushed, it gave way, with a little hesitation and then all too ready. The deeper he sank in, the less I could feel that wasn't him. Him and how I was stretching around him, him and his body flush against mine, tall and solid and dwarfing mine as his hand closed around my thigh and hiked it up higher –

Azriel raised his head, and my heart toppled over when he pressed his forehead against mine, panting shallowly into my parted lips, grip bruising. Then his hips rolled again, and something twisted, shifting into place.

I whimpered when Azriel sank in to the hilt, hips flush with mine and filling me up to the very brim, my fingers digging into his back as one of my hands flew up to bury in his hair.

Azriel nudged his nose against mine, and my heart toppled over at the sight of his blazing eyes and blown pupils and harsh swallow.

I lightly rolled my hips upwards, and a strangled sound left the back of Azriel's throat. His fingers dug into my thigh, then he slowly pulled out, and my eyes rolled back when he sank back in, starting a deep, hard, torturous rhythm.

My nails scratched over Azriel's back as my body arched into him, my hips meeting his thrusts as he began to fuck me, slowly, deliciously, every drag of his cock against my walls causing tremors to run up my spine. Something began blooming in my chest, wild and pulsing, rising until I shuddered, and Azriel kissed me, lips parting mine as his tongue dragged over mine, tasting, memorising as he groaned into my mouth, and I slid my leg up higher over his waist, clinging to him, feeling his arm drag me up into his body as he slowly picked up his rhythm.

Something liquid pooled in my stomach, something hot that sent waves of pleasure through me and made my head fall back into the pillows, and I rolled my hips, desperate for more, more friction, more -

"Harder."

My breathless whisper caused Azriel's spine to tremble. His grip tightened as he growled, and from one second to the next, his control vanished. Slid away with every little thing remaining of his walls, and his hands pushed my legs up higher as his hips snapped forward, falling into a rhythm that made me press my palm onto the headboard, my body arching as Azriel started to fuck me deep and hard into the mattress.

My insides twisted. Tightened slowly around Azriel's cock as it hit spots that made my eyes roll back until I saw stars as I pushed back, rocking my hips until it felt like my body was about to burst, strung so tightly, I could feel every muscle quivering until I was writhing, broken sounds falling from my throat.

Then it snapped.

My body shattered. Became stars and galaxies and the earth trembling beneath our feet as waves of pleasure washed over me so blinding, my body twisted and shuddered still when I felt Azriel follow me over that edge, his hips burying deep within me as he cursed brokenly into my neck.

The sheets were no longer sticking to my skin when I finally wasn't floating anymore. My mind was still slow and foggy when I pulled my head back a little to stare at Azriel. He'd dragged me into his body, arm slipping between my legs to haul one of them over his side before sliding it around my waist, pulling me so close that our chests were pressed together until there was no telling where one ended and the other began. His hair was mussed and sweaty, his lips swollen, and his eyes looked like amber in evening light as he stared back at me, the golden flecks in his iris twinkling.

He was looking at me like I was beginning and end, the answer to every question, like the one thing between the earth and the stars entirely made for him.

Something rose gently under my ribs.

"Every fiber of my soul,", I whispered.

Azriel stared at me, and his gaze flared, became molten and soft and burning as he dragged me forward and kissed me until my heart soared and breath caught in my throat and I finally understood that swirling, all consuming feeling in his eyes.

All yours.

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secret-ly-here @icey--stars @ailyr92 @azriels-mate2 @thisisew @kalulakunundrum @polli05927 @raisinggray @justdreamstars @ccucumbers @hanvstheworld

[bxyp]

Could you maybe do something with a ftm reader who has a lot of scars and tattoos especially on his back and like Ghost sees him shirtless for the first time? Without Ghost knowing your trans? And it just being fluff and a little bit of angst?

If you don't feel comfortable doing this its okay!!

Sincerely: a very cool person

His priority is your well-being, not some scars you have.

Summary: You have been shot, and Ghost, as your comrade, helps you treat the wound. What could go wrong?

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x FTM Reader

warnings: SWF content, "Ghost" '22, transphobia is mentioned, post-surgery scars are described, military, soldier! reader, blood, wounds were mentioned, reader gets shot.

word count: 592

Being transgender in the military wasn't easy. Sneaking into the shower right after everyone had left to just take a shower, just without anyone knowing. Just to make sure no one judges or looks weird. It wasn't easy in the army. The service here was even harder…

Being wounded in the line of duty was not unusual, even the best soldier could receive a scratch. And even now you are leaning against some old tree in East Asia. Things never go according to plan, that's part of the job.

Eyes barely open, this job is not for the weak. That's why you clench your teeth while Ghost starts pulling you out of your gear to put bandages on your gunshot wound on shoulder. Of course you wish you could do it by yourself but right now you priority was to not get infection.

"Keep your eyes open, soldier." Ghost’s harsh tone didn’t let you relax even for a second, which was probably for the best. He didn't pay much attention to your tattoos or scars, figuring he could take a closer look at them once he stitched you up.

You feel his gloved hands slowly pour the alcohol onto your shoulder. Sharp pain simply drowned out all your thoughts. Every cell of your body felt like it was on fire. "Fuck! Be gentle, I’m bleeding.” You spat as soon as you unclenched your teeth. Everything hurt so much, your mind could barely focus on one thought.

"I'm well aware of that." He said that once he found the nearest piece of cloth to cover the bleeding, he would help you get to your feet and get to the nearest evacuation site.

He picked up the radio and said something, but you could barely hear what. Only thing you got was that he said that you had been shot and you both needed to evacuate as soon as possible. He probably said something else, but your head hurt, along with that damn shoulder that felt like it was being cut off, slowly, piece by piece. His skillful hands quickly tightened some fabric on your shoulder. And without giving you time to come to your senses, he picked you up, throwing your good arm over his shoulder. “The evacuation helicopter will be there in a few minutes. Get back on your feet."

You both slowly walked towards the place Ghost lead you to. Only now did you remember that he probably saw your scars… Those top surgery scars that you covered with everything you could. Those scars that you hid. These white lines are right under your pecs. You worked hard to make them hard to see. But neither cream nor some beaty products could remove them. A constant reminder of who you were born…

Anxiety rise in you, your stomach became a tight knot. You're afraid that he saw the scars that you tried to hide. “So, about what you saw…” You were afraid he might tell someone. The military was not the most acceptable place. Here you will have to fight not only on the battlefield, but also earn your place among others.

“I don’t care who you are, lad. My job is to keep you alive, not to pry into your personal life.” His words can be harsh and cold. But you don't see any condemnation here. He considers you his equal. Ghost wasn't the nicest person, but he wasn't an asshole who treated you differently just because you weren't like him.

The rescue helicopter was visible in the distance…

MAIN MASTERLIST | AO3 | TWITTER

𝔑𝔬𝔱 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥. ℑ'𝔪 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔲𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 ℑ'𝔳𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔞𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔞 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔢. ℑ 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔦𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔰𝔲𝔭𝔭𝔬𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔞 𝔣𝔩𝔲𝔣𝔣 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔦𝔱 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔣𝔦𝔱 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔊𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔱'𝔰 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯.

[lordprettyflackotara]

Hitchhiker || Chapter Fourteen || The Proxies

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. tw: hella smut, hoodies a dick, rough sex, hair pulling, degrading, violence for like two seconds, just a sprinkle of blood but no blood kink, readers a horny ass mf, face fucking, breath play, slapping

<— previous chapter

You laid flat against the metal examination table, trying your hardest to not visibly cringe at the feeling of the coolness against your skin.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean you’re quite literally just now getting your stitches out. Then you plan to learn how to fight within the hour?” Nova questioned. EJ’s hands were oddly hot to the touch as he removed your stitches, his lips sealed as Nova went on her motherly lecture. Tim was right beside her, arms crossed and cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. How he convinced EJ to let him smoke in the cabin, you’d never know.

“This is extremely absurd and just, you know, ugh!” Nova exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. You bit the inside of your cheek as you tried not to look down, your wound finally healing to your liking. The last thing you’d do was fuck it up now. “It’s also reckless, endangering, and just the slightest bit stupid,” Tim added. You rolled your eyes are EJ took a step back, his job now done. “You’re gonna have a g-gnarly scar,” Toby chimed in. You sat up, both Nova and Tim in a hurry to guide you to slow down. “Will you two knock it off? Jesus Christ,” You hissed. You shoved both of them off of you, rising to your feet.

“If training with Brian or Hoodie makes them feel better about Cat Hunter being a peeping tom then so be it,” You continued. You went to storm down the hallway, annoyed at the relentless overprotectiveness. Tim caught up with you, the sound of Nova, Toby, and EJ all bickering growing more distant as you walked forward.

“Yeah but you’re not training with Brian, you’re training with Hoodie.”

“Yeah? So?”

“Brian would go easy on you. Hoodie likes to see people in pain.”

“Luckily for me i’m a masochist, so that’ll work out.”

You steered into the nearest bathroom, pulling your hair into a ponytail. “He’s not going to take it easy on you,” Tim continued. You tightened your ponytail, before sliding a long sleeved shirt over your head. “I wouldn’t want him to. Cat Hunter certainly wouldn’t,” You replied coolly. You doubted anything could hurt more than being stabbed. You briefly stared at the scar that now tainted your skin, before shoving your shirt all of the way down. Picking up hand wraps you wrapped them around your hand, ensuring a good portion of your knuckles were secured.

You went to turn out of the bathroom, Tim hot on your trail. In the spare bedroom you had been sleeping in apparently Brian had rearranged it, shoving everything into the corners to give you both space to tussle. Just as you reached the door, Tim grabbed your shoulder to stop you from darting inside. “Hoodie’s weak point is his legs. They move faster than the rest of him. If he gets you on the ground knock his feet out from under him,” Tim instructed. You met his gaze, the brunette pulling the cigarette out from between his lips.

“Got it.”

You turned to the door, your fingertips just barely grazing the handle.

“Hey y/n?”

You sighed, looking over your shoulder, “Yes Tim?”

Tim grinned mischievously, taking a long inhale of his cigarette.

“Beat his ass for me, will ya?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself into the room. Hoodie’s gaze instantly fell on you, giving you a small wave. “I’ve gotta warn ya, I will not be going easy on you,” He said cautiously. You closed the door behind you, the door clicking shut. “So I keep hearing,” You mused. Hoodie raised an eyebrow, his puzzled expression one concealed under his mask. “It’s not a joke. Cat Hunter won’t have mercy on you and I won’t either,” He informed you. Shifting your weight on each foot, you narrowed your eyes. “Are you just going to yap or are you gonna hit me?” You asked cockily.

It was then you had wore out Hoodie’s patience, the proxy throwing himself at you. A flash of mustard yellow temporarily blinding you, your feet throwing you to the left. You narrowly missed his punch, causing him to stumble into the wall behind you. “See? I’m not as easy as you thought I was gonna be,” You gloated. He gritted his teeth, shooting daggers in your direction. Swiftly he turned around, grabbing you by your waist. You had expected him to throw you down on the bed, your eyes widening in terror as he threw you down on the ground instead. The air was knocked out of your lungs, a shooting pain going up your back.

Gasping for air you clawed at the ground, forcing yourself onto your elbows to prop yourself up. “Again,” Hoodie said plainly. Unsurely you rose to your feet, rising your fist. Hoodie frowned at the sight, grabbing your small fist. “Untuck your thumb. You’ll break it if you tuck it inside of your hand,” He advised. You used his brief instruction to your advantage, kicking his shin as hard as you could. Hoodie glared at you, seething as he launched himself at you. You managed to dodge a couple of his punches, one of them finally landing on your nose. A wave of dizziness and nausea washed over you, your vision briefly hazy. You stumbled back a few steps, your fingertips touching your nose.

Drops of blood coated your fingertips, your breath becoming shallow. You looked up at Hoodie, your once lover now turned into a sadistic fighting machine. “Hoodie I’m done,” You say firmly. You went to turn towards the door, his large hand grabbing your forearm. He twisted it backwards, a yelp of pain escaping your lips. “You’re done when I say you’re done,” He hissed. Panicking you stomped on his foot, the man gritting your teeth as he released your arm. You quickly turned around your palm connecting with his face. The impact was softer than you would’ve liked it to be, the mask providing some sort of cushion to him.

When you realized the impact wasn’t as strong as you wanted it to be, you lifted your knee. With all of your strength you kneed him in the crotch, the masked man instantly hunching over. You were breathing deeply at this point, taking a couple of steps backwards. You wiped your upper lip, the crimson paint smearing across your hand. You tried to ignore the nauseating sensation, watching as Hoodie collected himself. He steadied himself against the wall, panting as his mind was in a whirl wind. You swallowed, bending over and leaning against a wall. You put your hands on your knees, the blood from your nose dripping onto the floor. It was then the bedroom door swung open, a horrified Tim standing in the doorway. His gloved hands gripped the wooden frame, before storming inside.

Unfortunately, he saw what you and Hoodie were too blind to see. Hoodie, an alter who was created due to his sadistic tendencies, up to a certain degree lacks self control. From personal experience Tim knew it didn’t matter how much he cared for someone. Once he felt that nagging little shock of pleasure from inflicting pain, it was over. His common sense and personal feelings towards the individual were overridden. Offering to train you of all people was a terrible idea. Now you on the other hand, were too stubborn to know when to quit. Hoodie could’ve beat you to a bloody pulp and you’d egg him on to continue until you lost consciousness. Both of your ignorance only made Tim more angry.

“Enough of this bullshit! Y/n you’re fucking done. Go get cleaned up,” Tim barked. You shot him a dirty look, his face briefly showing concern as his gaze fell on your bloody nose. You forced yourself to stand up straight, cracking your back as you did so. Hoodie yanked off his ski mask, a visible purple bruise forming around his eye. Had you hit him that close to his eye? You swallowed as you two looked at each other, both of you sharing the same thought. “Get out Tim,” Hoodie said calmly. Tim felt like a hopeless mother, whose two children had turned to the devils crack. “What?” Tim sputtered. You didn’t break your eye contact with Hoodie, the fight far from over. “You heard him, get out,” You repeated. Tim stood his ground, before shaking his head.

“If I hear anymore thudding i’m coming back,” Tim muttered. Against his better judgment he grabbed the door handle, walking out of the room. “No Tim to save you now,” Hoodie taunted. The sadistic smirk that crept up his lips made him almost look like a foreign stranger to you. “Wouldn’t wanna have it any other way,” You replied. Before you could comprehend it, Hoodie was on you. Your back clashed with the closest wall, his large gloved hand wrapped around your throat. You squirmed under his grasp, swallowing as he restricted your airway. “Cmon. Fight me off. Get on with it,” He instructed mockingly. You thrashed your limbs underneath him, your finger attempting to pry his hand off of your throat.

Your attempt to move your legs annoyed Hoodie, the oldest proxy wedging his knee in between them. He stared down at you mercilessly, noting the audible whimper that left your lips. Hoodie recognized that sound. It wasn’t one you released from genuine pain. He chuckled darkly, smirking down at you. "I knew you weren't as vanilla as Brian wanted to make you seem," He snickered. Re-adjusting his fingers he squeezed your throat tighter, your breath forced to become shallow. He pushed his knee up higher, rubbing right against your throbbing core. You let out another whimper, your body betraying you. "Fuck you," You hissed, your fingers were still attempting Hoodie's off of your neck. This seemed to only amuse him further.

"I fuckin knew it. Brian tried to tell me otherwise but I knew you were a pain slut. You looked so happy after Masky had his way with you," Hoodie told you. Hoodie could feel your pulse quicken under his grasp, a sadistic grin spreading across his lips. He leaned closer to you, his breath hot against your ear. "Don't worry i'll make you feel way better then Masky. You want that, don't you?" He purred. His teeth grazed your earlobe, your hips involuntarily grinding down against his knee. "Just say the word, i'll leave you squirming," Hoodie instructed. You nodded profusely, mumbling an agreement as you grinded down against his knee. "Good whore. But first, you owe me," He hissed. He released you from his grasp, shoving you down onto your knees. You ignored the harsh wood that dug into your knees, your focus centered on the man who stood before you.

"Open your goddman mouth," Hoodie barked. He began to undo his belt, before shoving his pants and boxers down in one shift motion. You flattened out your tongue, your mouth watering at the sight of his cock as it stood in front of your face. Hoodie pushed you backwards, the back of your head hitting the wall. "If you try to pussy out and use your hands i'll cut em off. Understand?" He asked. You nodded, opening your mouth. It felt restrictive, the inability to move making you wetter by the minute. You kept your hands on your knees, Hoodie quick to shove his cock to the back of your throat. The unexpected action made you gag, your eyes watering and head going to move out of instinct. Your eyes only widened more when you realized you had no where to go, your lungs running out of oxygen. "Loosen your jaw slut, cmon," Hoodie grunted. You tried to complete his request, your focus shifting to breathing through your nose.

Your fingers clawed at your knees, the man finally beginning to buck his hips. He pulled out slowly, before ramming his cock back down your throat again. His soft grunts and the sound of his cock abusing you flooded your ears, your core throbbing with desire. "Touch yourself for me. Go on slut. Desperation is painted all over your slutty face," Hoodie huffed. He continued to fuck your face, your hand now slipping down to your cunt. You drew circles around your clit, relishing in the feeling of some sort of friction. Your groans sent vibrations around his cock, the man above you biting his lower lip to conceal his sinful noises. "I should've done this sooner. Such a perfect mouth," Hoodie panted. He gripped the bottom of your chin, holding your face in place as he held his cock down your throat. "You're such a pathetic whore. Allowing me to use you like this," He taunted. He briefly pulled his cock out of your throat, your lungs gasping for air.

Saliva trickled down your chin and his shaft onto the floor, his hand still holding you firmly. "I have a surprise for you doll face," Hoodie snickered. He watched as your hand continued to circle your clit, getting off on every word that came out of his mouth. He dug in his back pocket, pulling out your missing pair of red panties. The moment your brain registered what he was holding, he shoved them in your mouth. You cringed at the feeling of the fabric against your tongue, the man crouching down before you. You could faintly taste something salty in the clothing, your hand not letting up for a moment. "Do you know how long i've waited to have you like this? All horny and desperate? At my disposal?" He asked. Mockingly he stroked your cheek as lovingly as he could muster, your eyes full of lustful terror. "You can't blame me for using your panties to get off. You were too busy taking my best friends cocks," He grinned, tapping your face.

You felt so disgusted, that disgust only making you wetter. "So desperate to get off huh? You'd cum just from my words?" Hoodie mused. You felt your face flush red as you realized your hand hadn't let up for a moment. Hoodie grabbed you, taking your place and sitting against the wall. He roughly grabbed your shorts and panties, practically ripping them off of you. He grabbed your waist, forcing you to straddle his thigh. "Go on doll face. Get yourself on my thigh," He ordered. Unsurely you put your hands on his shoulders for support, grinding your cunt down against his thigh. You could visibly see a wet patch forming against his jeans, Hoodie's hand slowly jerking his own cock. With his other hand he grabbed your throat, forcing you to look at him in the eyes.

"Just know if you cum on my thigh I won't make you cum again," He informed you tauntingly. You gripped his shoulders tighter, your desire to cum clouding your judgement. You continued to roll your hips against his thigh, the rough material of his jeans only sending waves of pleasure up your spine. Your eyes threatened to flutter shut, a sharp slap delivering itself to your face. You yelped in pain, Hoodie chuckling darkly as your skin turned bright red. "Doesn't feel so nice being hit, does it?" He taunted. You shook your head no, your sinful noises muffled by the panties wadded in your mouth. Hoodie was growing impatient, his large hands grabbing your waist forcing you to grind against him faster. "I'm getting bored doll face. Better hurry up and cum before I change my mind," He threatened. You moaned loudly, your clit brushing against him just right. The cord inside of your stomach tightened, your orgasm coming faster than you would've liked it to.

You bit down on the fabric, a muffled warning unable to escape your lips as his fingers dug harder into your hips. "Hoodie!" You cried, pawing at his chest as you came on his thigh. You felt humiliated, your juices soaking his pants. "Oh you slut, you've done it now," Hoodie huffed. He grabbed you again, repositioning you to his liking. This time he forced you to your feet, your face and chest smushed against the wall as Hoodie positioned himself behind you. One of his large hands cupped your head, the harsh wood scraping against your cheek as Hoodie rubbed him up and down your soaking folds. You squirmed under the sensation of his tip brushing against your swollen clit. "You're such a fucking tease, you know that? Letting us all use you but making me go last?" He hissed. You swallowed as he shoved himself inside of you, your eyes screwing shut. Your walls struggled to get accustomed to his girth, your gummy walls clinging onto his cock as he shoved himself in deeper.

"You're paying me back though, aren't you doll face?" He snickered. He leaned closer to your ear, his cockiness practically radiating off of him. "I'll be able to watch you fall apart on my cock again and again and again," Hoodie whispered. Your eyes widened, his hand guiding you to look to your left. Sure enough, an old fashioned camera sat on the bed, pointed directly at the two of you. "You always wanted to be an actress right? Congratulations on your first big role," Hoodie chuckled. He fully bottomed out inside of you, grabbing both of your arms. He pinned them behind your back, face now fully smushed against the wall. He yanked your panties out of your mouth, relishing in satisfaction as your own saliva trailed down your chin at its removal. "Gonna wanna hear you moan my name over and over," He grinned. He began to slowly move his hips, his fingers harshly digging into your arms.

Hoodie tossed the panties aside, the unholy noises finally falling from your lips freely. You whined as he began to pick up the pace, his cock brushing against your g spot. “I make you feel so much better than the other two, don’t I?” Hoodie purred. The pain had fully faded into pleasure, your eyes fluttering shut as you let the man behind you use you as he pleased. When you failed to respond he delivered a sharp slap to your ass, causing your legs to quiver. “Answer me slut. I’m better than them, aren’t I?” He growled. You babbled a mindless agreement, strings of curses leaving your lips as he pounded into you. Hoodie watched as he thrust into you, your juices creaming around his cock. It made him fuck you harder, your moans only growing louder.

“Such a noisy whore,” Hoodie snarled. He grabbed a handful of your hair, his other hand ensuring your arms were held behind your back. “Open your eyes slut. Tell the camera how good I make you feel,” He grunted. His thrust were merciless, his cock abusing your g spot as it pleased. “So good, so fucking good Hoodie,” You groaned. You cringed as he yanked at your hair harder, pounding into you so hard he was fucking you against the wall. “I’m gonna cum in you. Understand? You’re my fucking cum dump,” He huffed. He could feel your walls squeeze him tighter at the sound of his filthy words. “Awe you like that don’t you? If I could have it my way i’d keep you chained to my wall so I could fill you up anytime I want to,” He groaned. He could feel himself getting close, your walls milking his cock. “Fuck, such a tight fucking hole,” He mumbled. With those words his hips stuttered, his cum painting your inner walls. You bit your bottom lip, your own orgasm still boiling in the pit of your stomach. Hoodie groaned as he pulled out of you, watching his cum drip down in between your inner thighs.

“Fucking hell,” He mumbled. Slowly you turned around, meeting his satisfied gaze. “What about me?” You asked. Hoodie tilted his head to the side. “What about you?” He replied. He began to redress himself, the action making you form a look of horror. “Y-you didn’t make me cum,” You stuttered. Hoodie buttoned up his pants, taking a step towards you. “I told you if you came on my thigh I wouldn’t let you cum again. Listen better next time doll face,” He grinned. He planted a kiss to your forehead before fixing his belt. “Go clean yourself up, you’re filthy,” Hoodie teased, cocking his head towards the door. Humiliated, you glanced over at your shorts, shoving them back on as your core continued to throb. You trudged to the main bathroom, only to find it locked.

Fuck.

You stormed down the stairs, the living room empty. Using EJ’s bathroom was not something you wanted to do, but you needed to find somewhere private. You crept into his bathroom, flicking the light on. It was empty. You sighed as you shut the door, clicking the lock shut. Glancing in the mirror you looked like a fucked out mess, your spit still staining your chin along with the dried blood from your nose. You studied yourself for a moment, before trying to comb through your hair. It was then you heard an all too familiar voice.

“Fuck Jack! Please don’t stop, fuck!”

Your face turned red as you realized the wall to his bathroom and bedroom were connected. You could hear Jack grunt as he pounded into Nova in the other room. The walls were so thin you could hear the sound of skin clapping together. You knew it was wrong, the way her moans made your core throb. You put one hand over your mouth, concealing your loud breathing. With the other you brought two fingers to your aching clit, drawing fast circles around it.

“You like that? Yeah? Fucking take it.”

You had hardly heard Jack speak, but the sound of the two of them going at it was enough to get you off. That you were sure of. It was then you heard the shower curtain move, heat running to your cheeks. “H-hello gorgeous,” Toby greeted. He climbed out of the tub, watching as you scrambled to remove your hand from your shorts. “Toby! What the fuck are you doing in here?” You whisper yelled. Toby shrugged, taking note of your frazzled appearance. “There’s t-two bedrooms in this house. Both of which had couples f-f-fucking in them when I wanted to nap. I’ve slept in bath tubs before,” He explained. He brought himself closer to you, pressing you against the sink. His fingertips teasingly traced your jawline, making you shudder under his touch.

“Did y-you come in here to t-t-touch yourself? To the sound of EJ f-fuck-king Nova?” He whispered tauntingly. You felt your face go red. “No I didn’t! Hoodie didn’t let me cum,” You whined. Toby grinned at your confession. He shoved your pants down to your ankles, exposing your glistening cunt. “Why didn’t you just s-say so? I’ll take care of you,” Toby purred. He dropped to his knees, bringing his mouth to your aching heat. You gripped onto the sink, your hand flying back over your mouth as he began to devour your cunt. His large, slender hands pried your thighs apart. He licked Hoodie’s cum from off of your thigh, cleaning you entirely with his tongue. You whined as he sucked at your clit, trying your hardest to keep your sinful noises concealed.

“F-fuck, i’m gonna fucking cum, please let me cum Jack!”

Nova’s moans and pleas echoed through out your ears as Toby lapped at your folds. You gripped his hair with your other hand, grinding against his face. Toby gripped your thighs harder, his bony fingers promising to leave bruises in the morning. You could feel the cord inside of you tighten, your walls tightening around Toby’s tongue as he teased your entrance.

“Thats it, cum for me.”

Jacks words sent you over the edge, your body too desperate for release to ignore his command. You bit your bottom lip so hard you were sure it was bleeding, releasing all over Toby’s tongue. You squirmed as he cleaned you with his mouth again, swallowing every drop of your cum. He brought himself to his feet, undoing his belt. “C-cumming for Jack? W-when you d-don’t even know him? Filthy fuckin s-slut,” Toby whispered. He shoved his pants down, his cock springing out and brushing against your folds. He was quick to shove himself inside of you, your cunt dripping wet. “You s-should be thanking me f-for fucking you,” He growled. Faintly you could hear Jack and Nova resume their own sinful activities, her moans anything but subtle.

Toby realized you were distracted, a frown forming across his lips. He grabbed your clit between his index and middle finger, squeezing it hard. You whined, your eyes widening as you looked up at Toby. “Thank m-me whore. T-thank me for fucking y-you,” He huffed. You nodded, whispering babbles of gratitude as he began to thrust his hips into you without warning. You could taste the metallic liquid dripping into your mouth as you bit your bottom lip, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as Toby fucked you. He watched as your body went limp, allowing him to use you as a mindless sex doll. Toby noticed you were bleeding, forcing your hand away from your mouth.

He shoved his tongue inside of your mouth, lapping at the blood as it spilled from your bottom lip. You groaned, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to your final orgasm. Which each snap of Toby’s hips you found yourself lost in euphoria, your eyes fluttering shut as you came one last time. Toby swallowed your moans, groaning into your mouth as he came inside of you. You were a panting mess, leaning your head back against the mirror. “D-don’t worry i’ll get you a plan b,” Toby mumbled, slowly slipping out of you. You found the strength to sit up, Nova and Jack’s sinful noises still audible as they went at it like wild animals.

“Hey can you pick me up a pair of scissors when you go?”

“What do y-you need that for?”

“Brian needs a haircut.”

—> next chapter

[mockerycrow]

super big congratulations on 4k!! you deserve it <3

i was wondering if you could write a gn! reader x price with the prompt "Hey, it's okay, I got you. You're alright, you're okay." it doesn't matter if it's platonic or romantic; whatever feels best for you!!

Thank you so much and congratulations!

YOU’RE ALIVE (Price x GN!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION

[WARNINGS; Car accident, implied situationship w/ Price, moderate injuries, flashbacks, near panic attack, open ending.]

YOU DON’T REMEMBER the events that lead up to you in a hospital bed, a cast fitted around your arm, a brace on your knee, a bandage around your skull, and only God knows how many stitches and bandages in random assortments. You can’t forget the numeral wires and tubes attached to you, too. Oh, and the ear-bleeding beeping. John sits next to you in a chair—he’s your… friend, of sorts. You aren’t really sure what to call what you two have going on.

You look at him, slumped in the visitors chair he’s pulled up beside your bed, his arms crossed and his legs spread; his neck is bent at an awkward angle and you know it’s going to ache whenever he awakens. John looks quite tired—he’s looked tired and stressed the entire time he’s been in the hospital room with you. Stressing over you, like a worried hu—…. you shouldn’t think about that. Suddenly the ceiling looks far more appealing to stare at, rather than the beautiful gentleman who is willingly staying at your bedside, despite your exhausted attempts to have him get some proper rest.

You glance over at him—envious of how he’s able to sleep right now. Hm. Honestly, you know John would be awake with you if he had the energy. The only reason why you’re awake is your stitches itch, and the only reason why he’s asleep is because you did not wake up for four days after you passed out at the scene of a car accident you were apparently in; an accident you don’t remember too well. You barely even remember what you had for breakfast that morning; cereal of some kind, maybe? Eggs? You don’t know.

“You were on the way to work, love.” You remember John telling you. You remember the tense expression, the firmness of his eyebrows. The frown of his lip, the way he amusingly resembled a quokka in the moment. You were also apparently on the phone with John at the same time, so whatever happened, he heard all of it. The details from your own memory are fuzzy—your doctors concluded your amnesia is temporary, so they gave you the choice of remembering it yourself or having them tell you. You opted in for the first option.

It was coming back to you in bits and pieces. Small moments where you feel the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, you think you hear glass shattering in the distance; your heart begins to race at different moments. You aren’t sure what to make of it—until now.

“I’m not excited for this meeting.” You whined, your eyes were glued to the road. Your phone is bluetooth connected to your car’s system so you can talk with John and have both of your hands on the wheel. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, honey. Surely it’s just about budgets like last month.” John hums through the speakers of your car. You sigh, turning on your windshield wipers as it’s pouring out, obscuring your vision a bit.

“It’s raining pretty hard, how do the roads look?” He asks, a bit of rustling coming from John’s end. He’s probably reading a book or looking out from the curtains. “I’m driving slower than normal, visibility isn’t the greatest..” You admit, letting out a breath, slowing the car down once again. “..I was sliding a bit, thinking it’s time I get some new wheels.” John hums in agreement. “Definitely. Please be safe, love.” You chuckled glancing around the road, furrowing your eyebrows when the double yellow line seems to fade. “I’m trying my best, Jo—“

You’re suddenly being jostled around violently after a big impact from your front, your seatbelt digging into your skin as something launches your car off to the side. “SHIT—“ You scream, attempting to stop the car, but the rain causes you to slide across the road. Something hits you from the back and you feel you physically feel yourself lift in your seat—and then you’re fading in and out. You wake up with wetness against your face, pain in your ribs, your arm, your skull—

You let out a choked sob as there’s ringing in your ears and your eyes refuse to focus—but you can tell you’re upside down. You see a pair of legs sprinting towards you through your broken side window, and you aren’t really register what’s happening. You blink and the person is try to pry the door open frantically. You still don’t hear them; it’s almost like a silent movie.

The door gives, the flipped car jostling from the force used to pry it open. You blink and fuck—It’s John. His eyes are wide and his jaw is tense, shaky hands. He’s grabbing the sides of your head, forcing you to keep your head still—his lips are moving but you can’t hear him. You sob and you try to reach up to touch him, and he lets you. Your eyes look at your own hand as it’s caked in your own blood, causing you to inhale shakily. This isn’t happening. The pain starts sitting you harder, a pulsing in the side of your head.

“Hey—“ John’s voice suddenly cuts through and you blink, and you’re back in the hospital room. You’re breathing hard and fast, causing your chest to ache more than it already does. His hands are cupping your cheeks like he was in the flipped car, and you let out a panicked sob; your machines make loud beeping noises in retaliation. “Hey, it’s okay, I got you. You’re alright, you’re okay..” John quickly murmurs, his thumbs gently wiping your tears away. “Focus on my voice, okay? You’re alright. You’re in the hospital, love.”

You sniffle and nod, shakily inhaling once again as you try to calm your panicked lungs and struggling heart, your good hand coming up and gently grasping his wrist. “I-I was flipped over—“ You choke out, which John quickly meets with soft shushing and a kiss between your eyebrows. “I know, honey. I know. I got you, you’re safe now.” You nod, choking out another whimper as you lean into his touch—because John’s right. He has you; you’re safe, he’s the one who got to you first. You’re sure you’ll want to ask him how he found you so fast later, but all you want to do right now and feel him and hear him. Because you’re alive.

[erinkeifer]

The Informant Pt. II

[Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!Fem Reader]

Part I | Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3

Summary: After that turbulent night, he had one simple task for you - to make it to training in one piece. Was it really that problematic? Perhaps... However, the real troubles lie ahead of you...

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI | hate sex | slapping | blowjob | deepthroating | PiV unprotected | cursing | degradation | dom!Anakin | sub!Reader | no comfort | no aftercare | threats | force choking/regular choking | angst Author Note: I don't know if I've ever written a story after which I got as many requests for Part II as The Informant. Uni, changes in life, and the chaos of Essen Comic Con made writing exceptionally difficult for me, but one day I simply sat down in focus and decided to give it my all to deliver your request in the best possible version. ♡ Word Count: 4,4k

How fortunate that droids don't ask too many questions. You thought to yourself, lying on the medical chair as the mechanical creatures stitched up the cut on your brow.

“This might hurt a bit.” you heard faintly as the needle with the painkiller approached, but it made no difference to you—this single prick was no different from the pain you had been feeling up until now.

“Will you be able to get to your quarters on your own? Or should we send help…”

“No. I’ll manage.” you interrupted the droid without hesitation. Hearing your statement, it quickly returned to its work.

“Fortunately, the wound isn't infected, but we've administered an anti-inflammatory as a precaution. The stitches should be removed…”

“Yes, thank you, I know… It's not my first time.” you interrupted the droid in as calm a tone as you could muster as you began to rise from the chair.

“Please take care of yourself.” added the droid, setting aside the tools it had used on you, as you walked towards the exit of the medical wing.

“Sure, thanks.” you mumbled in a confused tone as the automatic doors to the room closed behind you, and ahead of you lay only the dark, grim corridor, its details blurring before your eyes.

You felt drowsy and could slowly feel the effects of the painkillers administered by the droids. You never reacted well to them, but this time, you felt even worse. You barely noticed when you managed to shuffle to your quarters, luckily on the same floor. Despite your daze, you did manage to close the door this time. Without changing or even taking off your boots, you simply collapsed onto your bed and fell asleep so quickly that your body barely registered it.

And that was the most painful mistake. …………………………………………………………………………………………………..

You usually woke up for training with the alarm you set before sleeping, but this time, your eyes opened only when the sun was already rising above the skyscrapers visible from your window. It was almost noon. Yes, noon—more than four hours had passed since your training was supposed to start. As soon as you realized this, your face turned ashen pale. Although you instinctively knew it was too late and that Anakin had probably long since left the training room, maybe even the temple, you jumped nervously out of bed. Trying to disguise your disheveled morning appearance, you threw on a loose, brown cloak. Breathless, without even glancing in the mirror, you rushed out of your quarters, leaving the door ajar behind you, and started running—not even knowing where you should go at that moment.

“Hey! Young lady!” You heard a familiar male voice just before you nearly collided with a figure standing in your path, clad in Jedi robes.

“Sorry, I…I just…” you began to stammer breathlessly when you looked up to see the sympathetic gaze of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The older Jedi's hands landed gently on your shoulders in a calming gesture. Although finding calm was difficult in your current state, deep down, you were grateful that you had run into Kenobi along the way. Perhaps only he could help you catch your breath and offer a bit of comfort in that moment.

“Easy now, breathe in and out…” the elder Jedi began, and you nervously lowered your gaze as his eyes seemed to read your face like a book.

“What’s the rush? Oh… This doesn’t look good… How many were there?” Kenobi continued after a moment, and you could barely hide your evident confusion. Who does he mean?

“Are you talking about…?” you began to brainstorm frantically in your mind, gesturing chaotically with your index finger as Kenobi looked at you with a mix of confusion and sympathy.

“Trauma or painkillers? Last night, I met Anakin and he mentioned that a gang in Coruscant got out of control…” Of course… Anakin’s excuse was a plausible way out. How else could he explain to his master why he was wandering the corridors at night with disheveled hair, tattered robes, and his Padawan’s blood on his hands?

“Ah, right… Honestly, I don’t know… It all happened so fast, and I’m not sure if…” you began to explain chaotically, but Obi-Wan could see you were straining yourself trying to piece things together.

“Okay, calm down. Anyway, I’m glad you were in the right place at the right time—one can never know what dangers lurk around the corner—not just for the Order, but for ordinary civilians too.” Kenobi explained as if trying to fill in the gaps in your thoughts, though he didn’t address the real concern gnawing at you—how much trouble you were actually in.

"Master Kenobi… I know, but… Yes… I just wanted to ask if Anakin is okay after that incident… I couldn’t make it to training today, so I didn’t have a chance to check if everything’s alright…" you replied, trying to tactfully skirt around your real question.

"Since when do Padawans look after their Masters' safety? Oh, heavens… Things were never this good in my day…" Kenobi responded in a light-hearted tone, which did little to satisfy you. But when he noticed your serious expression, waiting for more, he began to recall his morning encounter with Anakin.

"I thought he wouldn't plan anything for the morning after a rough night, but he was safe and sound when I saw him briefly in the training hall… I had some duties, but I'm quite sure he left after an hour or so…"

"Was he… angry?" you asked, and Kenobi narrowed his eyes in visible confusion.

"Angry..? Should he have been?" he replied after a moment of contemplation.

"Never mind… Just… Do you know where I might find him right now? I just want to…"

"Are you in some kind of trouble?" Kenobi interrupted, noticing and sensing your unease.

"No. But I might be if I don’t find out where he is." you answered with a grave seriousness. The older Jedi sighed, his expression puzzled as if debating whether he should answer your question.

“If I should intervene, just let me know and…”

“Master, there’s no reason to intervene. All I want is an answer to this simple question… You were a Padawan once, and then Anakin… Both of you must have felt, at times, like you messed up or were trying to salvage things because you thought you’d upset your Mentor.” you clarified, and Kenobi’s expression softened as he processed your words, seeming to drift momentarily into his own thoughts.

“Anakin declined the meeting in the council chamber. I suspect he’s gone to his quarters.” Kenobi replied after a moment's thought. You nodded in thanks and were about to head off in the intended direction when you felt the older Jedi’s hand on your shoulder.

“I know you should face your problems on your own, but remember, if anything goes wrong, you can count on me.” Kenobi said, making one last eye contact with you.

“Yes, Master. Thank you…” You replied with a faint but uncertain smile, which was quickly reciprocated. You felt Kenobi’s hand finally slide off your shoulder as he nodded to you and started to walk in the opposite direction.

Without waiting any longer and trying not to arouse any suspicion, you set off with a determined but slightly nervous pace toward Anakin's quarters. Your emotions were conflicted—a part of you felt indifferent, thinking you couldn’t bring any more disgrace upon yourself, while another part urged you to stop before facing him again.

Which part you would listen to was entirely up to you, but as you realized you had a choice, you were already gripping the handle to his quarters.

You pulled on the door, which wasn’t even fully closed—as if left ajar for an expected guest. In that moment, you felt he knew. He knew you would come back. That’s why he was there, waiting.

Coruscant was shimmering in the sunlight at this hour, and the city’s streets were bustling with life. Yet, neither the sunlight nor the city’s energy could be seen through the carefully drawn curtains. The darkness in the room was unsettling, but it wasn’t the fear of the dark that stunned you as you crossed the threshold into the main chamber.

“The door.” you heard from in front of you, and the harshness of the voice sent shivers down your spine.

“Close. The door. Behind you.” the voice repeated as you stood frozen in the doorway. The ominous emphasis on those words made you shut the door without further hesitation, but you soon realized that wasn’t enough.

“Lock it.” he continued, but instead of acting, you stared at his back for a moment longer than necessary.

Anakin sat at his desk, wearing the familiar robes with a long brown cloak draped over his shoulders, its hood resting messily. Since you stepped into his quarters, he hadn’t looked at you once, but you didn’t need to see his eyes to feel the coldness, frustration, and tension radiating from your master. You might have wondered if your actions had caused him to be so devastated today, but the chaos you sensed in his mind went far beyond your conflict.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” His increasingly frustrated tone jolted you enough that, without waiting another second, you turned the key twice, locking the door.

As you noticed Anakin’s silhouette move from his seat, you straightened up, feeling as if every muscle in your body tensed simultaneously. Anakin rose from his place, and with his hands clasped behind his back, he walked slowly toward you. For a moment, his gaze was fixed on the floor, but when it finally landed on you, you saw a contrived pity and disdain. The kind of “pity” that isn’t for the innocent. A “pity” mixed with the anticipation of delivering a deserved punishment.

"Get on your knees."

You were too flustered to quickly comply - and that was your mistake. The moment he noticed your mouth opening to speak, and your knees not bending - he was quick to motivate you even more.

"Did I say it clearly? On. Your. Fucking. Knees."

You heard something in his voice that was inhuman. It felt as though something alien had possessed Skywalker, but you couldn’t tell if you were frightened by it or strangely energized. Maybe it was recklessness, or perhaps your inherent tendency to defy everything, but your legs stood firm, as if rooted to the ground, and your lack of response only added to Anakin's growing tension.

“I don’t think I made myself clear…”

He added in an unusually low voice, then turned on his heel and walked back toward his desk, his hands still clasped behind his back. Despite everything, you didn’t move a muscle—your eyelids froze, locked on every movement of Skywalker’s as if you were instinctively watching for a trap or threat in the seemingly calm motions of your Master.

And this time, your instincts didn’t fail you. Although you stood your ground, your knees suddenly began to weaken—not from fatigue, but from a strange shift in pressure that shot through you from head to lungs.

You were suffocating.

You could no longer focus on Anakin’s movements as your hands instinctively grabbed at your throat, trying to force air back into your lungs. In doing so, you didn’t notice Anakin’s clenched hand at his side, even though it was what was affecting you.

You struggled with yourself for several seconds until your legs finally gave way beneath you, and you felt your knees hit the floor.

At that moment, relief came abruptly.

As your lungs slowly began to fill with air again, you still heard the ringing in your ears, typical of a sudden change in pressure within your body. However, it didn’t stop you from hearing the sound of metal clashing with wood—Anakin’s lightsaber hilt, which he had just taken from his desk.

You audibly swallowed as your eyes lifted towards your Master, holding the unignited weapon, and he, with an indescribable, stony expression, locked eyes with you. Finally, instead of standing opposite his desk, he turned his entire figure towards you and with alarmingly slow steps, moved in your direction, making no move with the lightsaber.

Not yet.

“Don’t worry…”

He began in a hushed voice, and his free hand slowly reached towards your face. He saw fear in your eyes—not of him, but more so of the weapon he inexplicably held. You stared at it with wide eyes, tracking every micro-movement of Anakin's hand, as if he might ignite it at any moment.

“I won’t let you die… At least not until you’re useful enough and…”

He spoke with a slowed, seemingly calming voice as he brought the lightsaber hilt closer to your face.

“…Obedient.”

The metal, cold hilt touched your warm skin, and you involuntarily flinched, feeling as though someone had pressed a gun to your temple. Anakin handled it as if it were a caress for you. You felt the coolness of the material on your cheek, jaw, until finally, the metal tip of the hilt rested against your lips.

"Open."

He murmured closer to your face, his knees bending so he could lean towards you and look into your eyes. Your lips trembled, and Anakin could see that you wouldn't quickly respond to his requests, so his free hand moved closer to your face, eventually resting 'motivationally' under your chin to urge you to open your mouth.

"Come on…"

He added after a moment of impatience, yet his tone wasn't bitter—it sounded as though he wanted to give you a chance—and though you didn't want to show yourself to your Master, you were absolutely prepared to accept it. Finally, your lips parted as he wanted, and for the first time in a long while, a disturbing smile appeared on Anakin's face.

"Good girl."

He said, lifting the corner of his mouth, and at the same time, you felt the cold, metal hilt slipping into your mouth, teasing your sensitive palate with its texture.

"You see… It doesn't have to be bad between us."

He said, rotating the hilt in your mouth as if he wanted you to feel it from every angle.

"And that's all, if you behave nicely…"

He lowered his voice to a whisper, making another turn inside your mouth.

"I won't have to hurt you…"

"…And you won't have to be a little, treacherous bitch."

He finished with a mocking smile on his face as he pushed the metal hilt a bit further than before, triggering a gag reflex in you.

"Ironic, isn't it?"

He chuckled lightly, and seeing you tense up from his actions, he withdrew the weapon from your mouth, then did something that couldn't quite be explained.

"Look…"

He said, placing the lightsaber hilt on the floor by your feet, then straightened up and took two slow steps back.

"You have one last chance to escape. You can use this to attack me. You can do whatever you want…"

After his words, which shook you slightly, the room fell into dead silence. You had no idea what was happening or what to do with yourself, so finally, you decided to use your own voice.

"But?"

Anakin smiled with slight regret at your question. You knew there was a catch to this, and you were certain that in your current situation, Skywalker wouldn't simply let you escape, let alone allow you to harm him.

"But if you run now and don't hide well enough…"

He folded his hands behind his back and began to slowly move away, simultaneously lowering his gaze from you as if giving you the opportunity to attack him.

"And if I or my people find you… I'll order you to be killed on the spot."

After uttering the last sentence, Anakin looked you in the eye as if he had just started a stopwatch and was waiting for your appropriate reaction.

"Decide."

He stated and once again dismissed you from his attention as if implying that this could really be an easy opportunity for an attack.

Your eyes wandered from place to place. You glanced at the lightsaber lying next to you, then at your Master—and though you could do something at this moment—your hands didn't even flinch. For some reason, this question seemed absurd to you. You had always been fixated on Anakin, always begged for his attention, and the mere fact that after last night you had decided to knock on his quarters made you realize that for you there was never any other answer than "I stay."

Anakin knew this very well, too.

"I won't leave." you assured, your head slightly bowed, feeling Skywalker's gaze settle on you after a few seconds.

"Hm?" He replied, seeming unsure if you meant it, yet sensing your resolve. He knew he had you wrapped around his finger.

"I don't want to go." you reiterated. After hearing your words again, Skywalker turned towards you and took a slow step closer.

"I hope you realize there's no turning back from here." he stated, his gloved hand approaching your face in an oddly tender manner. You nodded, meeting his gaze, sensing that Anakin was no longer just your mentor.

He has power over you.

"Good." he muttered, withdrawing his hand from your face and directing his gaze to the lightsaber still lying beside you.

"Give it to me… Attach it to my belt."

He ordered firmly, and you looked down at him with a gaze full of doubt, but his impatient stare didn't allow you to kneel any longer. As Anakin took a step forward, his belt was at the level of your face, and trembling, you reached for the weapon lying on the floor, clumsily hanging it on the leather belt. You constantly felt his gaze on you, focused like never before, hungry like never before—and just as hungry, impatient.

"Unfasten." Skywalker's hoarse voice resonated, and for a few seconds, you felt almost paralyzed.

"What? Unfasten. Now."

After his more impatient and ominous command, your hands moved immediately, trembling almost more than before. You weren't sure if it was the pressure of time hanging over your head, simple stress, or the growing… excitement within you. For some reason, you excluded fear. You weren't afraid. Not of Anakin. And you would swear you were ready to obey his every command.

"I see, I see… Soon you won't need to use your hands, I promise you that." Anakin said with a sneer, watching you struggle with his belt, but patiently waiting for you to finish on your own, without his assistance. The belt initially resisted—only when you accidentally found the right spot to press and release the buckle did the tightly held parts of his attire loosen as the undone belt revealed the tense fly of his pants.

"Continue." murmured Skywalker, and this time, knowing perfectly how to deal with the clasp of his trousers, you revealed his…

"Anakin… You're already har…"

"Shut up!"

He didn't even let you finish. He had no intention. He seized the opportunity as quickly as he could, thrusting into your mouth while your lips were still parted in speech.

"Keep your hands to yourself. Don't even try anything. It'll only get worse."

Though it was hard for Anakin to consider it pleasurable for you, you simply felt it. You were ready to shed tears from your eyes as he penetrated your throat in a way that hindered your functioning - to say it was a vision that had long formed in your mind.

"I give, you take. Understood?"

Skywalker spoke, trying unsuccessfully to conceal heavy breaths and sighs between words. When you tried to nod in agreement, your nose was almost pressed against his lower abdomen, and for a fraction of a second, you looked up at him communicatively from below, but shortly after, you impulsively closed your eyes, feeling his size exceeding your boundaries. "Fuck!"

Anakin began to pant as if he could no longer hide the fact that his body was reacting to what you were doing. You couldn't see it, but his gloved hand clenched, affecting you in a way you couldn't predict.

His hips, initially motionless, involuntarily began to thrust, as if he could press even deeper into your throat, but it was no longer possible. Anakin, however, had a ready solution. You felt a tightening in your throat, much like when he had used his power before to force you to kneel.

"Exactly like that. Fuck. Take it. I said, take it!"

He snarled through gritted teeth, smiling sinisterly and somehow proudly that he was fucking your throat like a fleshlight. Initially disorientation prevented your body from reacting to the sudden, numbing sensation, but after a few more thrusts, uncontrollable reflexes began to surface, indicating that Anakin was pushing the limits of your endurance. You choked, your eyes watering, but it wasn't a significant signal for him.

Impulsively, you gritted your teeth.

"You slut!"

Anakin growled loudly, then withdrew from you, and in the next moment, everything around you started to blur, and you felt pain.

Sudden pain.

Out of nowhere, after your throat released, and after a mixture of precum and your saliva dripped down your chin, Anakin slapped you across the cheek with an open hand.

"Is this how you want to play? Then let's fucking play."

Your mind was still foggy as you felt yourself no longer touching the ground. Anakin forcefully lifted you from the floor, tossing you clumsily over his shoulder. As your vision began to clear, you collided with the bed in the adjacent room.

"I'm sorry, I won't…"

"Not now."

Skywalker interrupted, forcefully stripping away what you had on. He had no intention of romanticizing anything. He didn't care to strip you completely naked; he wanted access.

So instead of playing the undressing game, he left scraps of fabric on you. His strong hands tore the fronds of your bra, exposing your breasts to view, before ripping apart your elastic training pants, which offered no resistance due to their material.

"Now that we know how easy it is to shut you up… Now you can fucking scream."

You lay flat on your back as Anakin climbed onto you, and after lifting your thigh, he thrust into you without warning. You emitted an almost animalistic scream when you felt that not only did he push himself into you to full length, but he had no intention of starting slowly.

"I knew you were going to leak, little bitch. I fucking knew it!"

Anakin uttered in a growling voice, imposing such a pace that he had to interrupt almost every word with panting. His thrusts were very fast and deep from the very beginning. His tip was hitting your cervix, with the full guarantee that tomorrow you would wake up bruised from the inside. But did it really matter?

Anakin's gaze was wild and hungry, but although you could tell he was clouded by his lust to unload, he was still able to read your emotions perfectly. You were writhing and moaning-you couldn't string a sentence together, but Skywalker could see without words that you were deriving pleasure from your brutal teaching, so he allowed himself more and more.

You didn't know if it was an impulse or your usual thoughtlessness, but taking advantage of the fact that your body wasn't yet completely impaled on the bed, your head lifted as if to reach his mouth.

"Are you kidding me, slut!?"

Suddenly, Anakin howled in a raised voice, very quickly bringing you back to your place. Skywalker took his hand off your hip and pressed you against the pillow, gripping your neck tightly.

"In your dreams… Fuck… In your dreams."

He muttered, breathing heavily over your face as you clenched your eyes shut from the sudden pressure. Those were Anakin's words once again, echoing in your head ironically, because, contrary to appearances, it was here and now that your dream was coming true. One of the most abstract, vulgar, and animalistic thoughts that had ever crossed your mind.

You melted as you listened to his heavy breaths, his growls and moans that pushed you to the edge along with the brutal thrusts you were receiving with pleasure.

Well, not just you.

Up until now stable, Anakin's hand, which had been firmly immobilized on your neck, began to tremble, and his thrusts were no longer as rhythmic as before. A growl escaped his vocal cords that you had never heard before, and his other hand, which had been holding you in place so far, gripped your body in a bruising hold.

A current of electricity ran through your body, preventing you from further controlling the situation. You didn't even feel the moment when the warm fluid flooded your insides, and Anakin, though trying to distance himself before his orgasm, let his head fall towards your neck, where his sweaty strands of tousled hair rested.

You both reached the climax, and your dizziness caused total darkness to fall around you, with only a ringing in your ears and Anakin's heavy breaths. It took a while for both of you to synchronize your breaths, and you wanted to close your eyes to momentarily disconnect from the sensations, but it didn't last long until Skywalker's breathless voice reached your ears again.

"From now on, it will be like this every day…"

He uttered those words with extraordinary gravity, then paused for a moment and took a deep breath.

"But don't worry… You'll get used to it quickly."

You absorbed each of his words with acceptance, and his heated hand that held your neck began to touch your face.

"Every day, I will break you down just as you broke me… And you will accept it with humility."

Although a sense of unease began to creep over your body, you continued to listen.

"I will fulfill your dream of being close to me every day. I will prove to you every day how wrong you were about me…"

You did so with unease, but upon hearing those words, you directed your gaze towards him to see him staring straight at you with deadly seriousness.

"And if you ever have enough… If you ever want to escape from me… Even at the end of the world...

…I will find you."