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areislol · 9 months

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"forget him, be with me instead."

ft— various male genshin x fem! reader (childhood friend trope)

warning — slight angst but it's just a pinch! comfort, mutual pining (?), smitten men, fluff, kissing. headcanons are a bit down! modern! au, implied toxic relationship

a/n— yay time to write some fluff after writing angst, what a life! listened to laufey's 'everything i know about love' album while listening to this ^^ this is a little bit rushed and might be a wee bit shitty but uhm please don't judge your girl was out here suffering

wordcount. 3.7k

synopsis. your boyfriend stood you up on your date, once again, and as usual your childhood friend is here to comfort you.

In the soft glow of the quaint café, you sat alone, your anticipation slowly morphing into a quiet ache. You had meticulously chosen your outfit, a delicate dance between casual and elegant.

You had arrived early, your excitement palpable. The minutes stretched into an eternity as the minutes on the clock ticked away, and the once hopeful glimmer in yours eyes dimmed with each passing moment.

The ambient chatter and clinking of utensils became a dissonant soundtrack to your growing unease. You checked your phone repeatedly, hoping for a message or a call that would explain the delay.

The vibrant ambiance of the café, which had initially felt like the backdrop to a romantic night, now served as a cruel witness to your solitude.

You take out your phone from your pocket, anxiously checking the time on your phone before sliding your hand back in, clenching it tightly. 8 PM. Your heart sunk as you realized that it was now exactly 8 PM, the time you both agreed on arriving.

You didn't want to jump to conclusions, maybe he was stuck in traffic? But then again it was 8 PM, barely any road traffic. Was his boss keeping him back for a little bit? Did the wifi cut off in his building, was that why he couldn't send you a text?

Despite trying to comfort yourself by putting ideas in your head, you had a hunch that he was most definenetly not coming, he had forgotten about your date.

It wasn't the first time he stood you up, as a matter of fact, he had stood you up many times but you always pushed it aside. You pushed his mistakes aside, why? Because he was your boyfriend. You knew it was wrong but... what could you do? You didn't want to lose him.

As the realization settled in, a mixture of disappointment and embarrassment clouded your expression. The waiter, noticing your solitary presence, approached with a mixture of sympathy and concern.

You mustered a brave smile and declined a menu, your appetite for food dissipating. The warmth of the café offered little solace as you continued to sit on your reserved seat, looking like an utter fool just sitting there, waiting for someone who wasn't going to come any time soon.

You checked the time once again, 8:10 PM, seconds went by, then minutes, and hours. You checked the time one more time—the clock reached 10:15 PM. You had arrived at the café at 7 PM.

Sighing at the realization that you really sat there and waited for your 'boyfriend' for three hours, you felt like an idiot. And even more of an idiot of the fact that you let this slide so many times.

You decide to leave the café, ignoring the sympathetic looks given your way. You take out your phone from your pocket once again, this time you didn't check the time but rather press on a familiar icon before making a call.

As you foot taps on the ground anxiously you wait for him to pick up the phone. You stand outside just a few inches away the café door, as you wait for what felt like an eternity all the emotions got to you.

Tears welled in your eyes, betraying the resilience you had tried so hard to maintain. Your emotions that were long kept in check, spilled over like a dam bursting at the seams. The phone continued to buzz, waiting for the other side to pick up.

The streetlamp cast a soft glow on your tear-streaked face as you lowered your phone, defeated by both the silence and the heartache. But just as the phone was about to go silent, by some miracle he picked up.

"Y/N?" For some odd reason hearing his voice made you have the urge to bawl your eyes out once again. You hastily wiped away your tears and attempted to sound nonchalant.

"Hey I uh.. I—" you paused, voice a delicate balance between composure and fragility. Sighing, you continued. "I got stood up."

Your words were short and blunt, but by now you were holding back a waterfall. You patiently wait for his answer over the deafening silence. "... Again? That boy.."

His voice was laced with annoyance, disappointment and concern.

"Where are you now? At the café? Stay right there, shit it's raining, make sure to stay under cover okay? I'll be there in about 10 minutes."

You could hear the sounds of him excusing himself from his boss and the angry cries from his boss.

"Aren't you at work though? It's okay you don't have to come pick me up."

"Are you crazy? So what if I'm at work? I'm not leaving you out there alone, plus it's raining. I know you hate having wet hair." Well, he wasn't lying. He was your childhood friend after all, he knew almost everything about you.

And before you knew it, just after a couple minutes of ending the call you noticed a figure making it's way towards you, umbrella in hand as he gives you a small smile. All the while rain was pouring down on your head.

is extremely happy that you finally realized that your boyfriend (soon to be ex) is horrible, he won't show it though. but he is really happy.

the first thing he did when he saw you absolutely drenched in the heavy downpour was take off his jacket and place it over your shoulders and hold the umbrella over your head. there were many questions he wanted to ask but the main one was "are you alright?"

yes he wanted to question about that damn lout (your boyfriend) but he already knew the answer. it happened too many times, way too many times. you and your boyfriend would agree to go on a date, you would arrive early or on time, you wouldn't get an answer from him when you questioned why he was late, minutes would turn into hours and then you would call him.

he wasn't mad at you, no never, but your (*cough* ex *couch*) boyfriend? absolutely. if anything he wanted to prove to you that he was a horrible boyfriend so he would always come to pick you up and try to knock some sense into your head, sometimes his words would go from one ear and out your other.

when you don't answer his question and begin to bawl your eyes out he immediately begins to panic, because you are crying hard. he only lets out a soft sigh before holding the back of your head and gently pushes your face in his chest, letting you cry into his chest. he softly pats your head in an attempt to comfort you (it does)

he resist the urge to say "i told you so" because, he did tell you so, but he knew it would only dampen your mood. he reassures and shushes you warmly, and his soft voice really does calm you down.

"shh, i know it's okay. you'll be fine. he is a big jackass alright? don't waste your pretty tears on him."

you both begin to walk together through the raining weather, he obviously doesn't want to see you cry so he offers to buy you your favourite snacks and drinks in a convenience store. you refuse, thinking that you already troubled him enough but NO he will not take no for an answer.

"trouble me? never."

and it worked!! your mood slightly lifted after chugging down your favourite packet of chips. in all honestly he found your puffy cheeks and eyes cute, the way your eyes glistened slightly from your tears, and the way you were chomping on your food? so adorable.

when you quietly thank him his heart bursts even more (like every other day he sees you) but he waves his hand, "it's nothing, sit down, lets talk."

why did he sound so scary? he would never know. when you both sit down on the ground, back pressed against the wall of a shop, he begins to question you. "you do realize that this is like the tenth time he stood you up right?" you nod your head sadly as you were reminded of what had happened.

he sighed, "i just want you to know that this.. you can't just forgive him after this, after all of this. he even forgot your anniversary! i'm.. i'm just worried for you. you know that?"

you knew he was only worrying for you and wanted the best for you. but despite all the other times that you would dismiss his worries and say "it's okay we all make mistakes" you really thought about it this time. and boy was he right.

do you know how ecstatic he was when you told him that you would break up with him!? HE WAS OVER THE MOON, he was literally on cloud 9. not that he could show it thought, you would be suspicious of him. but then again he has had the biggest and fattest crush on you since you were little.

but after that he tried his best to make you happier (even if he hated doing it), he would point out the most stupidest shit ever, "oh look at that squirrel, Y/N, doesn't it remind you of childe?" or "wow the uh, the light is really.. light'ing.."

sigh.. he's trying his best okay..

although it wasn't really funny, the way he spoke was most definenetly funny. when he notices how you hold back your laughter or even chuckle slightly that's just his motivation to do better, he would also tell you silly little jokes that he googled on his phone (while you were looking away) quickly.

buttt now he has an even better idea :) what is it you say? taking you out on a date of course! right now...? why not right now!

(please he's just really excited that you're going to break up with that old hag, meaning he has a shot!! he will definenetly give it his all to try and woo you.)

— ALHAITHAM, kaeya, WRIOTHESLEY, AYATO, dainsleif, NEUVILLETTE, CYNO, ZHONGLI, tighnari

starts scolding you and goes on a bit ass rant about how you deserve better than that (AND I QUOTE) "low life lout", he thinks he sounds all harsh and mean but to you he only sounds like he was really worried about you

"seriously, how many times does this boy have to repeat his actions until the truth gets through your thick noggin." he heaved a great sigh, a bit dramatic don't you think? he continues to rant and rant about blah blah blah you weren't listening. and only when he notices that tears are rolling down your cheeks freely does he shut the hell up.

"hey hey— what's wrong? don't cry.." he tries his best to act slightly annoyed because truly he kind of was, he hated seeing you hang out with your 'boyfriend', he hated seeing how your eyes would light up every time you saw him, the effort you put into your relationship, he hated how blind you were to his actions.

but, despite his tough outer shell he was really a softie inside. so when you began to bawls your eyes out (again) he immediately switches up, his voice that was so harsh was no soft and tender. a tone he barely uses (he only spoke nicely to you okay!!)

a sigh. "i didn't mean to be mean, i'm sorry. i'm just so annoyed that you keep on.. i don't know! i'm just frustrated okay." you were confused? why was he frustrated, shouldn't it be the other way around since.. you.. were the one being stood up?

he (surprisingly) wipes away your tears, cupping your cheeks with his hand as he uses his thumb to dry your tears. "i don't like seeing you cry, okay? follow me now" you were confused again, but follow him anyway.

he literally bought you back inside the café, the waiter looks happy and surprised (in her head she was thinking: wow so this is the fucker who stood his own girlfriend up?), when he was ordering your favourite pastry and drink he was really confused about why the lady was giving him such a dirty face.

"hey y/n, any idea why that lady over there is giving me a stank eye?"

he watches as you eat your food happily, he only hoped that you had forgotten what had happened before, not only that but he sees this as a way to show you that he would be a much better boyfriend, i mean look at him! he came (he would always come on time), memorized what your favourite snacks/pastries/drinks were, sat down with you. he wasn't trying to boast but.. he would make one hell of a boyfriend than your current one.

you noticed that he wasn't eating and just.. staring at you. "want some?" you offered, he shook his head no but you wouldn't take that for an answer. you shove a spoonful of cake in his mouth and smile happily. "yummy?" he only grumbles, looking like an angry cat. "mmm i guess.." (he really liked it please feed him more)

seeing you smile after bawling your eyes out and wasting your tears on somebody you didn't deserve felt like a treat. he also wipes the excess food and crumbs on the corner of your lips, he looked adorable when he was concentrating hard to wipe it off, and it wasn't like he was trying to be romantic as he wasn't maintaining eye contact, but when he backed away and looked at you and notices how you were smirking he scoffed.

"don't you get any ideas now." you giggled at his words and continued to eat your cake as well as occasionally feeding him as well. all you were thinking about was ow delicious the cake was but all he was thinking about was you. he was.. basically taking you out on a date. woah.

when you both exit the shop, you thank him for the food and also apologize for dragging him out here in the rain and how you got his hair wet. "yeah well yours is too. you can blame that asshole." he noticed how your face slightly drops, a solemn expression on your face.

"yeah.. i guess so." !?!?!?! you actually agreed with him?!?! HE WON AT LIFE WOOOOOOOOOOO

and now that you both are on the same terms he can finally talk to you about everything, but all the while he was explaining how he saw him (your soon to be ex) treat you, he couldn't help but also include his feelings. that's one thing you caught on.

"he forgot your anniversary, did you forget? i was absolutely frustrated! i mean at his actions, i mean his actions and him! i would never do that if i was your boyfriend. h—hypothetically."

you had a hunch that he had a thing for you, but not that big of a crush. maybe he was just really angry that he kept stumbling over his words?

either way, he told you what you should do you this time you listened, chiming in with your own experiences with your boyfriend and the more you did that the more you began to notice hoe you really looked past all his red flags.

safe to say he won at life, again, this time he won't pussy out on you and will for sure confess to you!

— WANDERER, XIAO, dottore, diluc, PIERRO, albedo

a bit... too giddy. willingly SHOWS and TELLS that he is happy. i mean not at you being stood up but how you're finally getting a grip, wait.. is than a "i'm going to break up with him" he heard?!?! GOD BLESS

he doesn't say anything at first, comforting you and drying your hair the very best he can (literally bought a book to dry your hair: swatting it), he lets you cry on his shoulder, letting you hug him tightly (not that he was complaining... oh did you just break his ribs? nah it's all good)

he lets you calm down first to the point where it's just hiccups rather than tears rolling down your cheeks (and when you could barely breathe by how you were choking on your tears), he holds you in his arms, rocking you slightly.

"okay, i don't want to sound.. rude but, i think it's time you start to notice how badly he's treating you. i mean, look at you, you're a mess (dare i say, a beautiful one), he made you feel this, he made you cry. and he isn't here to apologize. this isn't the first time too, y/n, i'm begging you, please don't look past this."

he tries his best to explain to you everything, what he saw, what he is doing to you, how he feels and how you feel (he knows everything shh). and you can't deny it, you won't, because everything he was telling you was true. and you hated how you couldn't deny anything.

he leaves you for a couple of minutes so that you could collect your thoughts and emotions while he went to go buy some snacks, especially some sweets and savory. "this should cheer you up" he says as he passes the plastic bag to you.

"oh wait i forgot to get some ramen, be right back!" you didn't have enough time to stop him as he was already on his way to grab a hot cup of ramen for you. he was just too sweet. when he came back with your favourite cup of ramen he would open the lid and blow onto it, he insisted on feeding you, saying that you must've been exhausted from today (but you barely did anything?)

you can't help but notice how... somewhat happy he was, normally when he comes after you call him (after being stood up once again) he seemed concerned for you, and he does look concerned for you, i mean he is always but today... he looked giddy. was it maybe because you said that you would be breaking up with your boyfriend today? so strange..

!!! not only that but he encourages you to break up with him, and he doesn't mean it like that, he just wants the best for you. and you obviously say yes because.. everything he is telling you IS true. next thing you know he's literally helping you write a sincere paragraph to your boyfriend on text.

"oh you should send a voice message as well, i think it'll really help him understand how serious you are."

you're too afraid to make a voice message? no worries, he'll do it for you!! he will send the most passive aggressive voice message know to man kind (he had to fight back the urge to yell obscenities over call). basically, this man is way too happy, not that it's suspicious or anything, just a little worrying LMAO

he's just really happy, happy for him and you! it's a win-win honestly. you finally get out of that toxic relationship and finally get a hold of reality, but also for him to finally get his chance to maybe try to confess to you. (one day... but he'll make sure to woo you sooner or later before someone else swoops you off your feet)

he's literally on his way to manifest for you two to be together, repeat after him, i don't chase, i attract (he literally chases after you so uhm forget about that please)

— THOMA, KAVEH, LYNEY, itto, gorou, KAZUHA, pantalone, heizou, VENTI, capitano, childe, baizhu

As the rain began to clear, only leaving behind a tranquil symphony of soft pitter-patters. You two stood next to each other, letting the silence take over.

All the while he was contemplating something, something that will change your relationship for the better or worse.

Should he kiss you?

For years he had always wanted to feel your lips against his but he was always so nervous to do so.

But right now? It was the perfect opportunity, the raining had almost cleared, the atmosphere was soft and romantic. If he didn't do it now then who knew how long it would take for him to build up his courage again?

All of the sudden he cupped your cheek with warm palms, the tenderness in his touch was evident even in the hesitant pause that hung in the air.

For a moment, uncertainty flickered in his eyes, a silent contemplation of unspoken desires. Was he really about to pussy out again?

You, for one, was a bit puzzled by the sudden shift in the atmosphere and his sudden actions. When your gaze met his with curiosity. In that fleeting moment, he knew he had to do it.

Even if it ruined everything he built up with you.

He muttered a breathless "fuck it," as if casting aside the weight of hesitation that tethered him, in a moment that felt like an eternity, he leaned in, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a passionate kiss that stole her breath away.

You were caught off guard, were you imagining this? No you couldn't be, it felt so real. Your heart raced with a mixture of surprise and delight. The kiss was passionate and full of raw emotion, igniting a fire within her that she was pressed so far down.

The softness of his lips against yours sent waves of tenderness through your body, and in that moment, your realized that this kiss was not just a spur-of-the-moment act; it was a reflection of the unspoken feelings that had been building between them for so long.

His touch was gentle yet filled with an underlying intensity, it was a kiss that sparked something, expressing all the words they had been too afraid to say.

You closed your eyes, allowing him to continue as your hands held onto his wrist. A couple of seconds passed by when he, unfortunately, pulled away—your eyes locked once again in a silent acknowledgment.

His eyes held such a fiery passion as you stared deeply into your eyes. He looked relieved as if finally taking initiative that had been weighing him down.

"I... But—" You were still left breathless as you spoke, you felt an underlying guilt, still not haven broken up with your boyfriend yet.

He understood what you were thinking and feeling, "look at me, Y/N." At his request you did so, observing his face and trying to guess what he was going to do next. Kiss you again? (Yes please)

"Forget him, be with me instead."

note: off to continue writing for my sagau now, this was more like a shitpost for the shits and giggles but aye

taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls if im missing anyone please tell me because i have an inkling feeling i missed a few..

liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!!

another note: not proof read so if you found any spelling/grammar mistakes PLEASE tell me

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yameoto · 4 months

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COACH KNOWS BEST. ART, TASHI, PATRICK.

synopsis; you fucked up an important match. your punishment? a one-on-one match against patrick zweig. in your tiny tennis skirt. without your underwear. don't worry, baby. it's a private court.

✗ warnings ; coach!artashi, protégé!reader, dom!art/tashi/patrick, dubcon, foursome, double penetration, unhealthy power dynamics, large age-gap, slutshaming, exhibition, humiliation, sex on tennis courts, anal (you only have so many holes). this is NOT a classy party.

"DO i really have to wear this?" you hiss, indignant. fruitlessly attempting to tug your skirt down—if you could even call it that. a flimsy scrap of fabric, more like. (god, you think maybe it was tashi's when she was what—eleven?).

the hem just barely skims over your upper thighs. you can feel a goddamn breeze between your legs. you're eternally grateful for art and tashi, really, but this is fucking insane—

no— it's fine. it's fine. they’re your coaches, they know best.

"maybe if you hadn't fucked up that last volley." tashi scolds, harsh — her tough love familiar. though, there's a delighted glint to her eyes as you subconsciously squeeze your thighs together, trying your best to ignore the fact your ass is peeking out from under the bottom. your cheeks flare red.

“it’s a private tennis court.” art reassures, the warmth of his palm on your shoulder being far less comforting than normal. you scowl at the ground, knuckles clenching tight around your racket.

"oh, don't be so skittish. he's not that good." tashi coos, as if facing patrick zweig is the reason you're shifting your weight from foot to foot, hand squeezed determinedly at your crotch. tashi smiles. cradles your jaw, fingers swiping along your bottom lip—bitten raw and glossy. "just play your best." an hour later, and you’re not playing your best. you can’t play your fucking best—because with every movement, every hop, skip, and fucking jump; your skirt is fluttering upward and flashing your bare cunt to patrick motherfucking zweig.

this is hell. hell.

you're stiff as you move about the court, hyper-aware of the feeling of wind rushing between your legs. you’re sluggish in your pace—far too pre-occupied with yanking your skirt down every few seconds rather than actually focusing on the match.

how can you? especially when patrick's staring at you like he's trying to rip your thighs apart with his eyes. art and tashi are no better. you jump to return a ball, and your skirt flies up; displaying your ass spectacularly. you almost get whiplash with how fast you go rigid. “open up your form.” tashi chimes in. you shoot her a desperate, pleading look. she just arches a brow, expression impassive—though you don't miss the subtle quirk to her lips. she’s enjoying this. suppressing a whine, you broaden your stance obediently—legs sliding apart on the court. patrick's pupils dilate, and he not-so-subtly presses the hilt of his racket into his groin.

you swallow, hard. his eyes seem to follow that, too.

you're about to serve, before art’s voice cuts in from the sidelines—soft, low and yet—effortlessly authoritative.

"lower."

heat floods up to your ears. you bend down, feeling the fabric of your skirt hike even higher up your exposed asscheeks. you direct him a desperate glance, eyes wide—a bid for approval.

art smiles. "lower." a low whimper slips from your lips, but you obey because they're your coaches, of course you'll do what they say. patrick grunts in barely concealed disappointment as the front of your skirt drapes further over your cunt. your blush is violent. fuck, you look like the intro to a porno; back arched, ass perked so high the goddamn sun is warming your cheeks. you want to crawl into a hole and die.

though, when you finally risk a glance back; the feeling turns into a strangely pleasant heat, unfurling in your gut. tashi's eyes are lidded, sunglasses slid halfway down her nose. art's pupils are so dark his eyes have lost their blue. his thighs are quivering.

"good girl." tashi purrs. you shiver, and you almost drop your racket. "

"oh, fuck this." patrick growls, and then all of a sudden his racket has clattered to the ground and he's lunging for you—two hands clumsily seizing your hips and shoving you to the ground. he doesn't even have to hike up your skirt. his knee is shoved up between your legs, meaning he has full access to everything. he stares, greedy—and you stare back; specifically at the way the swollen tip of his cock hangs out from the side of his shorts. his slit drools, and a fat glob of pre-cum splats on your thigh.

he shrugs at the way your jaw drops—wry grin splitting his lips. "what? didn't want you to feel left out."

"patrick." art stands, voice low with rare warning. possessiveness. patrick only shoots back a broad smirk—lifting his hand up to give him the finger—before sticking up his index and wagging it in a stupidly lewd motion. if possible, it makes your cheeks glow even hotter than they already are—it's type of thing boys your age would do, not a grown-ass man.

"what, man? you can't tell me this isn't exactly what you wanted."

art scowls, though he doesn't say anything—the massive hard-on he's sporting speaks for itself. tashi's expression is unreadable from behind her shades; but nothing ever happens without tashi's say so.

"dude, she's so wet." patrick grins, and to your rising horror—you are. he spits on his palm before roughly thumbing the slick down your thighs, smearing, before popping it in his mouth. he swirls his tongue over the nub of his thumb, waggling his brows.

"of course she is." tashi hums, and a whine tears from your throat. shaking your head adamantly because for some reason tashi’s instantaneous, patronising nod of assent makes you feel more like a whore than patrick’s fingers sliding up your skirt. no, no. i don't. it's sweat. i swear, swear to god—

before the slew of protests can find its way out of your throat; three fingers are shoving themselves up your cunt and you gasp—back thrashing against hot concrete.

“oh, you didn't want this?” tashi’s voice drawls, low and slow and deliberate in your ear, hips rolling into yours. you whine, drawing a white-hot blank as her fingers slide deeper into your cunt, “because i don't see any tennis players on the court. just a couple of sluts.”

you barely even register patrick's aggrieved "hey!" from offside, the unfairness of it all bubbling up in your stomach and dizzying your head because what the fuck— that's not— you made me— but you can't force the words out; not when you can feel two hands wrest behind you by the shoulders. the feeling of callouses against your skin familiar—disarming. you whimper, a plea for salvation. "art—"

''shush." art hisses, roughly seizing the band of your tennis skirt and jerking it entirely up your mid-riff, so you're completely exposed waist-down. your eyes blow wide at the humid air that rushes against your crotch—back arching when his hand snakes under your top and pinches at your nipples.

"i'm surprised you even bothered with these." he remarks as he shoves your bra aside, not unkindly—but hardly considerate either, with the way his fingers squeeze and pinch and twist meanly. your knees almost buckle from under you.

not that they can, not with patrick holding you up by the backs of your thighs, shorts slid midway down his thighs. his cock throbs, swollen and needy as he pushes his groin up against yours. "m'shocked you even let me through the gates," patrick hums, and you don't have to look to know he's breathing down art's neck. "to break your little rookie in, no less." he's so cocky, spit flecking your pussy—talking like you aren't even there.

you squirm, but art is groping your tits and patrick is wrenching your legs apart and tashi has thrust a fourth finger up your pussy and fuuuuck—your limbs are reduced to jelly. thrust and tied up on a ridiculously hot torture wrack; tugged and pulled and twisted in three directions at once.

"not so fucking fast—the deal was if you won. you didn't fucking win." that's tashi. her fingers curl harshly, knuckles pressing against your walls. you take in a shuddering breath, eyes rolling back into your head.

"what the fuck? that's so unfair." patrick's voice is an indignant whine as tashi yanks him back by the hair. "i was winning! how the hell was i supposed to control myself—" you can feel his hands clamping over your ass, rough and domineering. his dick insistently wedges into the corner between your thigh and folds, as if trying to force entry.

"maybe if you had a little self-discipline, for once—"

"oh, that's fuckin' rich of you to say, making her come out here and—"

"shut up." art pants, low and hot in your ear, and you almost forgot he was there. you don't know how, with the way he's grinding his length furiously against your bare ass—damp in the way you know he's already creamed his pants already. his fingers wrest the nub of your nipple at the same time that patrick brute-forces his way inside your cunt. your body contorts between the three of them—a choked, rattled cry ripping from your throat and sending your vision dancing into spots. for a terrifying, blissful moment, your brain empties completely.

"god—" patrick grunts, shoving himself deeper, nails digging into the flesh of your ass as he pounds, with great effort. tashi's eyes flash with annoyance, though she doesn't physically wrench him off. not one to be one-upped; the next time art bucks his hips, you realise he's ditched the pants entirely—head of his cock dragging against the crease of your ass. it's a slick, slow friction—tender—dripping a glistening trail down your crack. and then, his hips snap back, and then he's plunging into your hole—the wet, slapping sound of his balls against your ass almost as loud as patrick's moans as he stuffs your pussy full. the two ram into you with vicious ferocity—like they're seeing who can come inside you first.

it hurts it hurts it hurts. as if the insides of your body have been set alight, limbs writhing uselessly—a bubbling, curdling heat deep in your belly. but it also feels good, somehow. when your head lolls forward, boneless and fuzzy; you can see the way your stomach distends with each of patrick and art’s brutal thrusts. the outlines of their cocks, cramming into you—fierce, desperate. tashi can see too, clearly. her free hand delicately runs over your abdomen—nails scraping. you can’t even gasp at the cool sensation. not when you’ve felt fuller than you ever have in your life.

it’s just like tennis. just like tennis. no pain, no gain—right?

art comes first, because of course he does. letting out a soft, keening hiss of his own as he slams his hips into you, palm squeezing your tits so hard you think you're about to burst. he shoots his load into you with a choked whine. he doesn't pull out—doesn't want to abandon the tight warmth of your hole, hugging his cock like the world’s prettiest little fleshlight. he simply fucks back into you with a blissful groan. slowly, painfully, knees quivering as his seed squirts out with every thrust.

patrick is louder when he does it; grunting with a guttural "mmf— fuck!" hips stuttering jerkily as a torrent of sticky warmth floods into you, oozing out from between his cock and tashi's fingers. it dribbles down your legs and spatters wet splotches against the tennis court. you can't even speak anymore, lips parting in wordless gulps of air.

that's when tashi yanks her fingers out from you—strings of cum trawling, stretching out of your pussy as she does so. you don't even have time to mourn the loss before art's stuffing you full of his dick again and tashi is cramming her warm, wet fingers in your mouth.

art is simply jerking in slow, torturous movements, and tashi is sliding her hand so far down your throat you almost choke. she smiles. "suck." it’s an order—not that she has to. you're already wrapping your tongue around her digits, mindless and drooling. patrick slumps between your knees, tongue greedily lapping at the spurts of his cum lazily dribbling from your pussy, in time with art's thrusts.

the concrete sizzles against your back, sun warming your limbs—dried cum smeared on your cheek. you feel dizzy, you feel good. warm. this is everything you've ever wanted—everything you‘ve ever needed.

(your coaches really do know best.)

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sweetnans · 4 months

Text

Firefighter!bakugo pt 2 pt.1 here

a/c: This bakugo is softer because there's no quirks hunting him. This isn't proofread yet, and please consider that english is not my first language.

You didn't call him. He left his number on the card, the company replaced all your burnt furniture and electronics, and after all, you still couldn't look at your new stove without thinking of him. And that you never called him.

Of course, the next time you saw him, it wasn't your fault.

It was a sunny day. A few months had passed, and you were making your way for a new job interview you had pending.

You did the interview pretty well, considering your strike of bad luck. The boss and the executive of the company said that your resume was everything that they were looking for and that gave you a sort of security you hadn't felt for a while.

You were making your way out of the office after hearing the 'we will call you to discuss minor details' when a rare feeling appeared on your stomach, a slight pinch in your guts that didn't felt like it was a stomach problem.

You shook the feeling away and kept walking to the elevator, pressing the button you realized that you were free all afternoon, so you made a quick plan to go for a coffee and a donut. Lately, you were craving sugary things.

Once the elevator's doors closed, the uneasy feeling made his way back to you. You felt that something wasn't right the minute the elevator creaked before going down. The office's company was on the nineteenth floor, and you were almost reaching the thirteen when the movement stopped abruptly.

Suddenly, the light went off too.

You never thought that you would be in a situation like that, so you obviously tried to remain calm, but it didn't work.

Panting, you reached to grab your phone from the back pocket of your jeans. As you were expecting, you had no signal, mostly because you were trapped in a box made of metal.

"Hello?" You said pressing one of the buttons from the panel, the one that got a bell on it. "I'm stuck in the elevator"

No one answered, and your heart started to beat faster and faster. You tried banging on the doors, crossing your fingers that the elevator got stuck on a specific floor and not in between floors.

You considered yourself a calm person, or at least a good pretending something you are clearly not. You were good at faking because you were more afraid of feeling ashamed, but no one was around to see you panicking.

"Help!" You screamed and then waited to hear any noise coming from outside. The silence was overwhelming. "Shit"

You slid your back until your butt hit the ground and started to remember the breathing exercises you learned on a yoga session your friend made you go. Thinking that it will work was a very optimistic thought.

The feeling of your lungs stretching and trying to find the air that was lacking in the elevator was exhausting, closing your eyes, you pushed one of your hands in your chest to apply some presure on it to feel the movement and connect the moves with your brain so it would process that you were actually not dying and still breathing.

Your eyes started to close, and your body started to sweat. Was it the end of it? You got a decent degree, got drunk with your friends many times, and had a good childhood, but still, you wanted to do a lot of things, like learn how to drive, get a dog, start your own business and even make fucking cookies without setting your house on fire, you were so young to die like that.

Thirty minutes later, that felt like an eternity, you started to hear banging and voices from the other side of the elevator. You were skeptical that it was actually help and tried not to feel so excited about it, but then, a ray of light appeared from the darkness.

"I think she's conscious, guys," a voice you've heard before said.

Many hands and bodies started to work in the steel, using saws and jaws to break the door open to get you out of there.

The door cracked after a few minutes, and you were free and ready to never jump in an elevator again.

You were almost falling asleep, and you felt so weak to move, so they carried you out of the elevator and settled you on the floor.

A blonde man put a little flashlight in your eyes and looked at you very focused on his task. The sight wasn't very clear, everything looked very blurred to you. You could only see two shapes that obstructed the sunlight.

"I think she passed out while she was there. I got a faint pulse too" The same voice you heard before echoes in your ears like it was miles away but you could see the red haired man in front of you.

Oh no.

You felt your senses returning in a whiplash. That man, in front of you, was the man that went to the fire in your house and the one that was next to him was the one that went to your brother's home and gave you the box of cookies.

Fuck fuck fuck.

"I'm okay, I swear." You tried to stand in your feet, but a wave of dizziness didn't let you.

"I don't think you are," the red-haired man told you, giggling. "Wait, I know you" he stated in awe.

"Yeah, her face, it feels familiar, right?" The blonde man spoke to the other ignoring completely that you were there.

"She's the one that burned down her kitchen a few months ago"

There he was, taking off his gloves, a drop of sweat in his forehead, and looking as good as the last time you saw him. You cursed yourself in your mind. He was hot, and now after you never called him, there was a ninety-nine percent chance that he hated you.

"Move aside. I'm going to check her vitals. You two can talk with the building manager about his excuse of an elevator. " he spoke lowly to the others, and that volume of timber scratched that unworkable brain of yours.

The two firefighters stood up and patted the shoulder of his friend while he kneeled down in front of you.

You were left alone with him, the guy you turned down.

"Hey, you know I'm very sorry and -" You started to apologize.

"Do you consider yourself claustrophobic?" He interrupted, putting the oximeter in your index finger

"Mhm, I don't think so." You avoided eye contact because his serious facade was something you couldn't bear at the moment.

"Doubtful, why is your heart rate so elevated then?"

You felt how the blood in your system rose to your cheeks. He must have noticed because he lowered his head at the same time that a smug smile appeared on his face.

"I think I got what I deserved, a scare that almost ended up in death," you dramatized while he lifted a finger in front of your eyes with a tiny flashlight following the movements of your pupils. "I think that's the karma acting"

"What do you mean?" He clicked the flashlight off and reajusted himself crouched on his knees.

"You were nice to me, and I never responded" you shrugged.

Bakugo put on a face you couldn't decipher. It was a mix between thinking and not giving a shit about everything.

"Have you tried baking again?" He asked, reverting his glance from nothing to you.

You denied with your head.

"Just looking at the oven freaks me out," you let out a sigh, followed with a shiver when your mind put the memory of that day in your head.

He grinned at your words and you couldn't help the smile that appeared in your face.

"What's so funny?" You tried asking.

"How do you burn your kitchen and end up trapped in an elevator in less than a year?"

You rolled your eyes at him and handed the oximeter to him. He extended his hand to yours, and you dropped the device before his hand reached your hand. The two of you were quick on catching the device before it landed on the floor, but in the process, his hands covered yours.

Bakugo stared at your joined hands for a second before taking his away. You thought that you were the only one who felt attracted like a magnet to him, but the slight pink on the tips of his ears gave him away instantly.

"You know, there's a chance you might have hurt yourself, so we have to take you to the hospital so they can check on you properly," he explained while closing the paramedics bag.

"Great, no coffee and donuts for me, huh?" You muttered under your breath while gaining momentum to stand from your seat.

He helped you to get steady, and then he guided you to the truck.

Before you could jump to one of the seats, he stopped you.

"My shift ends up in like an hour. The doctors would want to check your vitals and see if there is any concussion from when you fainted, well that, and the time you were there without much air... I was wondering if maybe, if you want, I mean...-

"Bakubro, did you ask her out yet?" The red-haired guy appeared from the back of the truck.

Bakugo stared at him like he could burn the man down.

"He was actually doing that," you said, biting your lip and looking back at him. "And I was about to say yes so..."

"Ah man, I'm sorry... Now that I'm here, I remember I left something back there. " he left the scene very quickly.

"You thought I was going to ask you out?" He said with his eyes going straight to his hairline.

A cold shiver ran through your spine from embarrassment.

"Shit, no? I'm, oh my god, this is so...I should've died, " you whined, praying in your mind for a hole in the ground that could swallow you down.

You could feel how your body was burning from the shame. Your face red and you felt your own temperature rising.

"You thought right," he said after a moment, enjoying your suffering. "But I was expecting you to make the first move, I mean after you turned me down"

"Please, stop, I beg you," you cried. "I'll take you out, meet me in the hospital, and I'll take you to wherever you want to go, just stop"

He almost laughed at your suffering. Bakugo thought that you looked so cute when you were ashamed and blushed.

"Nah, this one is on me. You'll have your donuts and coffee after all"

He pushed you, putting his hand in your lower back to get you on the truck.

...

Taglist

@spinninoutwaiting4you @gsyche @hanacheryl @itzjustj-1000 @kiridagremiln @reads-stuff-quietly

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leclerced · 6 months

Text

sweet dreams

Summary: Oscar getting a lot of head.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni. some degrading language, blow jobs, face fucking. balls briefly in mouth.

Author’s note: hi. here’s this. enjoy. sorry for typos or other mistakes i am tired.

She's been itching for him all day, and he’s been in meetings all day. He was gone before she woke, he didn’t even wake her for a goodbye kiss before he left. She woke hours after he left and found a note on the fridge, morning baby! there’s a pastry on the counter for you, we have a lot of meetings today so i’m not sure when i’ll be home. xx

She plucks the note off the fridge and retreats back to their bedroom, flopping on the bed before grabbing her phone from the nightstand.

osc

baby

when are you gonna be home?

Oscar's phone buzzes in his pocket and he jumps in his seat. After glancing around to check that no one noticed his startling, he slides it out under the table. He feels his stomach flutter at his girlfriend’s contact on the screen and he clicks on the new texts.

morning honey

are you you hungry? i got you a pastry

Her nose scrunches at the mention. He drove all the way to get her breakfast when they could have had a quickie. He's so kind and thoughtful it’s infuriating.

no. i’m horny and you aren’t here.

i wanted your cock in my mouth as soon as i woke up

rolled over, reached for you. and you weren’t there ):

i’m so wet for you right now, i’m literally dripping.

Her left hand drifts between her thighs and she whines at the feeling. she was exaggerating for dramatic effect but she’s not wrong. Her thighs are sticky and she barely has to ghost her fingers through her lips before they’re coated.

The first text comes through right after he hits send. his phone buzzes in his hand and he glances down, nearly choking on the breath he’s taking as the next text comes through, followed by two more in quick succession. his cock twitches in his jeans when he reads the last one and he grits his teeth.

nows not a good time, i’m in a meeting

She rolls her eyes. she knows that, it doesn’t change anything.

when are you going to be home?

i have two more meetings. expected time is 45 each. could be longer or shorter, depending.

A sigh leaves her and her pussy throbs under her fingers. She lifts the coated digits to her lips and pulls them inside, sucking them clean. she can almost pretend they’re oscar’s instead of hers so she leaves them, swirling her tongue around her fingers to try to sate the craving she has for him.

can’t you fake sick? i could suck your cock three times in that time

jesus christ.

you really are horny huh

sorry, ill try to be quick

It’s a pointless claim, there’s nothing he can do to speed it along unless he agrees to everything, and that could end up with more meetings in the future because he gave the wrong input because he was rushing. She bites her finger tips as her thumb fumbles across the keyboard, checking for typos before sending the next string of texts.

do you wanna know what i dreamed about?

i was sucking your cock for eternity

you know that dreamy feeling? where you know you’re gonna be there forever? like it’s heaven?

it was like that, and i was sucking you off. i lost track of how many times you came, but i swallowed it all

honestly impressed with dream me

i think i grew gills because i didn’t have to stop and breathe once

who needs air? not dream me

anyways.. i really wanna suck you off for eternity but that’s not possible so i’ll take as many times as i can get

and the sooner you get home. the more i can suck you off

After a few minutes of no response, she gets bored. It's no fun sexting when they aren’t sexting back. She rolls onto her stomach and presses her cheek into the pillow. She’ll go back to sleep until he’s home, maybe she’ll keep dreaming about his cock and when she wakes up, he’ll be home.

Oscar can hear the blood rushing through him as he reads the texts coming through, the chatter of his bosses and team members around him fading into nothing. His cock throbs in his jeans and he backs out of the chain of messages as soon as he reads, sucking your cock for eternity. He presses it face down in his lap and stifles a groan when it vibrates directly on his cock. He slides it down his thigh then tucks it underneath his leg. It’s muffled between the weight of his thigh and the plush cushion but the vibrations don’t stop tickling the back of his thigh for a minute.

When someone prompts him, he lets out a weak sound and squeezes his eyes shut, “I’m sorry, i was thinking about the brakes last race.” It's the worst excuse he can manage and brings on more questions.

Someone immediately curses, “Was something wrong? Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

He shakes his head quickly, cheeks flaming red, “No! They were good! I was thinking we had a good balance and should keep that in mind and I just got stuck. My brain is kind of mush right now.”

Lando lets out a noise of agreement next to him and he’s suddenly reminded of his teammate’s presence. “Yeah, same. I missed the last five minutes.”

Andrea nods, “Well, I think we can finish this next bit up without you guys. get some sleep, come in with a clear head tomorrow." They both nod thankfully and Oscar takes a look around the room and feels a bit guilty that they’re being let go early because they can’t focus. He sees Lando stretching from the corner of his eye and suddenly can feel the tension in his muscles from sitting in the same office chair all day. Even if it’s cushy and expensive and comfortable as hell, sitting in one position all day kills his body. He does one better and stretches as he stands, reaching above his head and groaning softly as his muscles finally feel some relief they didn’t know they needed.

If he had a tail it’d be wagging. He’d be chasing it around the room. He's never been so relieved to hear those words. He turns to grab his phone from the chair and swipes it up before another text can come through. He's opening the text thread again as he walks out of the mtc, casting a quick glance over his shoulder before he unlocks his phone. Each one feels like a punch to the gut, his mind going thick as he rereads them. He starts typing out a text that he’s coming home, but he erases it. she can wait until he gets home.

She’d barely fallen asleep when she’s harshly woken by someone yanking her to the edge of her bed. A grumble leaves her throat as she tries and fails to pull her legs back up, to curl into herself and fall back asleep. The hold on her ankles is solid though and she gives up after a single pull. There’s not a care in the world about who’s touching her, Oscar almost laughs at the thought. Oscar's voice immediately rouses her, though, when he commands, “Sit up.”

She jolts up, rubbing her eyes and sighing, “Opie, you’re home.” She drops her hands to her lap and looks up at him with glossy eyes. He’s already stripped down to his boxers, she can see the bulge he’s sporting and it makes her mouth water. He looks into her eyes for a moment before glancing down her body, down the little nightgown that was forced up her body when he pulled her down. It slumped back down on her hips when she sat up, but he can still get a peek at her cunt and it’s just as she described. “On your knees. on the ground.” His voice is sharper than usual and it buzzes in her ears, sending a shiver down her spine.

He releases her ankles as she slides off the bed in front of him, clasping her hands behind her back obediently. “Like this?”

He nods, “Just like that. Open your mouth.” She blinks up at him and does so, tilting her head back for him. She’s not sure what he wants, his cock isn’t out yet, so that’s not-

She flinches as a glob of spit lands on her tongue and he says, “Swallow it.'' Without a moment's hesitation, she does so and lets her mouth fall back open to show him it’s gone. He smirks and lets out a huff of air. “You’re fucking filthy. went right back to fucking sleep, did you? Couldn’t have the real thing so you went to your little dream land.”

Her brain is still foggy with sleep but the words float through the clouds like rays of sunshine. She nods up at him, “Thought you weren’t gonna be home for awhile.”

He gives her a soft smile and tuts, “I’m home now, aren’t I? Why don’t you give me a warm welcome?” Oscar pushes his boxers down and kicks them aside, she instinctively reaches and he shakes his head and she freezes, “No touching, unless you need to tap my thigh for me to stop, okay? Keep them behind your back.” She whines at his words but complies, licking her lips before dropping her mouth back open. She's not sure what to expect, but she’s happy to take anything he’ll give her.

Oscar steps closer and curls a hand in her hair, wrapping the other around his cock. He taps it against her tongue, “Show me what you dreamed about.” A contented murmur bubbles up from the back of her throat at the taste of him hitting her taste buds and she flicks her tongue across the head before wrapping her lips around the tip. She swirls her tongue and sucks softly before flattening her tongue and taking more of him into her mouth.

The head of his cock hits the back of her throat and she lets out a noise as she forces her throat to relax so she can take more of him. He pets her head softly as she bobs her head, taking more each time. The soft grunts he’s letting out make her clit throb and if he hadn’t already told her to keep her hands behind her back, she’d be reaching between her legs. Her eyes flutter shut as she moans around him, squeezing her hands into fists to will herself to take more, to take all of him.

“This is what you wanted?” Oscar's voice makes her eyes pop open, low and thick like molasses. She blinks up at him twice. Yes. He licks his lips and lets his head fall back as a moan tumbles out, then drops his head back down. “All day? That’s what you want?” Two more slow blinks. yes again. He cups her face and strokes his thumb over her hollowed cheek as he coos, “I’m gonna fuck your mouth now. Did you dream about that?” She blinks quickly this time, yes, before he even finishes the question. Just before he thrusts, she taps his thigh and pulls off with a gasp.

She presses her forehead to his thigh and he can feel her quick breaths all over it, hot and steamy on his skin. After a moment, she sits back and nods, “Okay, ‘m ready. I just wanted a breather so I could last longer.” Oscar could come just from the fucking words she’s speaking. Pacing herself to suck his cock? Jesus Fucking Christ. He taps his cock against her lips, pressing into the warmth as soon as she parts her lips for him. A shudder runs through him as she sucks on the tip and her eyes flutter shut like she’s enjoying it.

He pushes the hand cupping her cheek back into her hair and curls it into a fist, sighing at the softness between his fingers. his hips jut forward to test the waters and she presses her tongue to his cock as if to urge him. Oscar works his cock into her mouth with slow steady strokes until he’s buried in her throat. He moans as she swallows around him and he pushes further into her mouth. A shiver courses through him when she gasps for air through her nose, cool air hitting the part of cock that hasn’t made it into her mouth yet.

He suddenly pulls out until just the head is inside, she takes the moment to suck on the head before he gives another thrust. “My pretty girl, so eager to suck my cock.” He teases as his cock hits the back of her throat again. She can feel a different fog taking over her brain, much better than the sleepy dreamy fog she’d been in. She’d pinched her own ass when Oscar told her to get on her knees, half convinced this was a hyper realistic dream. No. Her boyfriend really did just come home early minutes after she fell asleep. And now she has what she wants, his cock down her throat, drool down her chin and what will likely become an ache in her jaw.

She blinks her eyes open to look up at oscar as he slowly fucks her throat, not even fully fucking her throat. His head is tossed back and he’s letting out soft moans every few thrusts. She feels like she’s being teased in a way, but she’s not going to, nor can she, complain. She lets her eyes flutter shut again and moans around him, rubbing her tongue against the underside of his cock.

Oscar tells himself not to over do it yet, he doesn’t want her jaw aching or her throat sore this early in the day. Not when he has plans to be in it all day like she wants. He gives another slow thrust and moans, pulling back until just the head remains tucked between her lips. she flutters her eyes open when he doesn’t move. The look in her eyes really does it for him. “Make me cum.” She blinks twice up at the orders and begins bobbing her head again, moaning when she feels his cock throbbing against her tongue. His hand tightens in her hair, his abs contract and his hips jerk forward as his orgasm hits. A string of praises and curses mixed with her name tumble from his lips as she swallows him down until he tugs harshly at her hair. She flops back and leans into the bed, gasping for air.

Out of habit, she raises her hand to wipe the drool from her chin and then feels it down her neck and gives up before she starts, the back of her hand would be no help. Oscar seems to have the same thought process because before she’s even realized what he’s doing, he’s grabbed his shirt from the ground and is crouching in front of her, wiping her clean.

An hour later, she’s had three orgasms and they’ve had a shower. Oscar has her on the edge of the bed with her head hanging off. “You sure this is okay?” She nods eagerly, opening her mouth to agree, but he stops her. “You told me about the dream. I’m convinced. Just triple checking.”

She reaches out to brush one of the freckles on his hips, “I love you for that.” She lets her mouth fall open after the profession and he repeats it back to her as he pushes his cock back into her mouth. It’s different than usual, her tongue is pressed to the top of his cock when normally, on her knees, it’s the underside. It feels a bit neglected now that she’s rubbing her tongue along it as he presses into her throat. A moan punches its way out of his throat when she gags around his cock, he jerks his hips back as an apology.

The hand on his hip squeezes as if to say it’s okay and he presses forward again. Oscar works up a quick pace, marveling at the sight of his cock in her throat. For God’s sake, why hadn’t they done this before? Everything about it is incredible. The feel of her mouth, her throat, the angle, the sight of her naked and spread out on the bed. He should get a mirror to put opposite him so he can fuck her throat and watch her touch herself.

Oscar comes suddenly, hips stuttering as he watches her press her fingers into her pussy, thrusting them a few times then waving them at him teasingly. It’s like she read his fucking mind. He plants a hand next to her shoulder on the mattress as his orgasm rocks through him and his hips jerk into her mouth. She swallows it all, sucking at his cock and petting his hip until he’s suddenly oversensitive and backs away with a grunt. It’s funny watching him stumble back from her upside down angle, bring his hands up to rub his face as he groans, “Fuck. Movie?”

She lets out a raspy giggle and rolls over, “If you carry me.” He steps back towards the bed and she pushes herself up onto her knees and makes grabby hands. Her hands wrap around Oscar's neck as he hooks his hands under her thighs and lifts her up around him, crossing her legs around him. He can feel her slick coating his abdomen as he walks and his cock is already perking up for another go.

They don’t even finish the movie before Oscar pushes her down between his legs for another go, telling her to suck him off while he watches the movie. She’s happy to do it at first, and then he actually goes back to watching the movie and hasn’t looked at her or said anything in the ten minutes since she got her mouth on him. The only sign that he’s even interested in what she’s doing is the way his chest rapidly rises and falls, or his cock occasionally twitches and spills precum into her mouth.

She's determined to make him lose focus. Each time she peeks up at him, he still has his arms folded behind his head, head turned with his cheek pressed to his bicep so he can see the tv. She pulls off his cock and spits on the head to get a reaction out of him, but he doesn’t spare her a glance as she strokes her thumb over the tip and spreads her spit along his length. when he doesn’t react to that, she licks from the base to the head, sucking on the tip when she reaches it. His thighs twitch and she can see his lashes flutter, but he doesn’t look at her or say anything.

She bites back a whine and goes lower, sucking softly on his balls as she strokes his cock. He lets a little noise slip and she continues, taking the rest into her mouth. As soon as she does it, he’s jerking his head down to look at her while a shocked moan falls from his lips. She bats her eyelashes up at him before pulling away, “Why wouldn’t you look at me?”

He squeezes his eyes shut, “Trying not to cum. That did not help.”

She whines and squeezes his thigh with her free hand, “Kinda the point?”

He pops his eyes open, “Not if it takes two minutes.”

She swipes her tongue out over her lower lip and sucks it between her teeth momentarily. “You make me cum in two minutes.”

He shakes his head, “It’s different. You can have a few back to back, I've gotta wait a bit. Plus, I could cum in two minutes anytime with my hand and a photo of you, no offense to your mouth, but that’s my record on you.”

She nibbles on her lower lip, “I think you should cum.” At the same time she says it, she begins flicking her wrist faster.

He juts his hips up, “Thought you were gonna swallow everything?” In lieu of responding, she dips her head back down and wraps her lips around the tip. She swirls her tongue around it twice, goes for a third swirl and he lets out a low moan as his body shudders under her and he spills into her mouth for a third time. She keeps her eyes locked with his as she swallows him down, challenging him to look away from her again. He does as a final spurt of cum coats her tongue, pressing his head back and gasping her name. she pulls away from his cock with a pop and wipes her hand on the throw blanket half wrapped around them.

He’s still twitchy under her as she climbs up his body and presses a kiss to his lips, sucking softly on his lower lip. He sighs against her lips and presses back, pulling a hand from behind his head to cup the back of hers and hold her there as he licks into her mouth. Oscar can’t help but moan when he tastes himself on her, but wants to taste her. “Swap places?” He murmurs into the kiss, sliding his hand down her back and around her thigh for leverage to flip them over on the sofa.

The movie was never finished, they fell asleep shortly after trading orgasms. she wakes first, the afternoon sun peeking through the open blinds burning through her eyelids. It was nice to open them in the mornings and let in natural light, not too nice to wake up to. She turns her head away from the windows and presses her cheek into the pillow, willing herself to fall back asleep. Oscar's sleeping on her and the weight is so comfortable and warm she never wants to leave. Her bladder has other plans. she succeeds in slipping away from him without waking him and tip toes to the bathroom.

When she returns, Oscar's sitting up on the couch. “My pillow grew legs and walked away,” he grumbles, the lines from her shirt pressed into his cheek. She rejoins him, straddling his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck.

She presses a kiss to the tip of his nose as she curls her fingers through the back of his hair. “Your pillow is back now, had to take a bathroom break,” she teases.

He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her closer, dropping his head to rest on her shoulder. “Hate waking up without you. ‘specially when i fell asleep holding you.” His words move through her like notes of a song and she coos. “You keep saying things like that i’m gonna fall in love with you.”

A disgruntled noise leaves his throat and he pulls back to look at her, “And here I was, thinking you already were.”

She giggles, soft and sweet and rubs her nose against his as she agrees, “I fall more in love with you every day.” She doesn’t think truer words have ever been spoken, at least from her lips.

“You keep saying things like that i’m gonna fall in love with you.” he hums, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips, then to her cheeks, forehead, and nose. It sends butterflies shooting around her stomach and she forces back the urge to smile like an idiot.

She ignores the lovesick feeling and teases, “I suck your dick so much, you have no choice but to be in love with me.” Her words make him snort.

Oscar nods in agreement, “I would stay for the blowjobs, if nothing else.”

She bats at his chest and gasps, “You’re supposed to say, no I love you for other things.”

A wicked grin takes over his features and he squeezes her hips, “Oh, trust me, I love you for other things. Your pussy for example-” She presses her lips to her mouth to shut him up, he breaks the kiss immediately with a loud laugh, tilting his head back. She should have expected it really, after she made the blowjob joke. Oscar slows his laughter and sighs, “I really do love you, every little thing about you.“

She presses a kiss to his chin, “Ditto, Opie.”

#oscar piastri smut #formula one smut #op81 #my writing

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ambrosiagoldfish · 5 months

Note

Adam x third spouse part 3 I’m begging pookie ❤️

like a time skip to when Charlie appeared and proposed the idea

Benifit of the doubt Pt.4

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Warnings: General Adam TW’s, a little bit sad for a moment but it’s ok. Gn! Reader! honestly that’s about it I think?? Wow this is the first time it’s been this short in this series.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Request Box: Open

Word Count: 4617~

A/n: So… it’s been almost 2 months… whoops. In all seriousness though I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’ve just not been in the mood to write and a lot of stuff has been happening (which is finally over) and I’m glad I could finally post this. I was also, if I’m honest, nervous to post this, cause I’m not sure if everyone’s ready for the direction of the story. But I have made it clear that I wanted to do a time skip to the show at somepoint and decided to do it now! If you enjoy this, please let me know cause I’m really nervous about (Not my words of affirmation love language coming out-) ALSO to the requester, I know you said part 3, but I used it for part 4. I got your request as I was making part 3 soooo my bad. Hope you don’t mind tho <3 this will be the last part before the angsty finale (and maybe an epilogue)

Reblogs are always appreciated!

Anyways this was NOT beta read unfortunately, I tried to get as many errors out during the writing process so hopefully it’s fine. Also, there’s probably some words I might have wanted to italicize or make bold that aren’t, but I’m too tired to care honestly.

Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn @ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che @edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee (if I forgot someone or you want to be added just tell me !!)

Days turned to weeks, to months, to years. Until eventually an eon had passed. An entirety filled to the brim with an indescribable happiness and love, threatening to spill over at any given moment. You loved Adam and Adam loved you.

To say it was all happiness would be a lie, there were some moments of sadness and pain, but all relationships were like that, even ones that lasted for eternity. You both always bounced back, apologize and moved on with a stronger bond than before. And you loved every second of it.

A lot has changed in these last few eons. Adam formed a band and is now the most popular guitarist in all of heaven. You both made new friends, some got into heaven while others were made there. Emily was one of these people to you, she looked up to you for being older than her. You’ve existed for almost all of human existence so, of course she’d look up to you.

Adam had also made new friends, his band members, some officials in heaven, but someone he’s grown close to recently was Lute. You're really happy about his friendship with Lute. She seems like a strong and loyal friend, someone that can keep him grounded while still encouraging him to be more himself. Overall, you really liked her.

How they became friends though is something… less tasteful for you. All the way back when Heaven and Hell had their first meeting on what to do with the surplus of sinners in hell causing an uprising. Neither side came to an agreement in the end, you do feel partially to blame for that, but you still stand by what you did.

You never returned to any of the follow up meetings

But Adam did, surprisingly to you. In the end, you were called to talk with Sera and Adam. You were told of the agreement between Heaven and Hell, about the yearly “cleanse” that Adam and his “Exorcists” would have to commit. At first you were shocked, sure, you didn’t have the best experience with sinners and especially with the rulers of hell, but was death really necessary? You didn’t know what to say, and Adam clearly saw this.

“Babe, you alright?” He puts his hand on your shoulder rubbing his thumb in circles. You place your hand on his.

“Yeah it’s just a lot to take in. Are we sure it has to be done… that way?”

Sera looked down in pain “they’re… uprising and are becoming to much of a threat to heaven.”

You sighed as Adam took you in his arms. Adam was fully aware that you don’t share the same sentiment towards sinners as he does. His hatred towards the unholy souls down in hell was brought about by events that you simply cannot understand. Which he is thankful for, he never would want you to experience what he did.

“If there isn’t anything else we can do then… I guess we have no choice. But I don’t want to… kill anyone, even if they are sinners.”

Adam holds you closer “You won’t have to,” you smile at him, the now familiar flickering of his LED mask meeting your gaze before softly frown “you ok?”

You nod, “yeah, just…I wish there was another way.”

That was it. Adam would take his exorcists down to hell to kill as many sinners as they could each year. Adam knew you didn’t want him to talk about it , he kept it as separate as he could from your life. You did have to attend meetings regarding it, as one of the very few people to know about it, that was your duty.

You were fine with having that part of the job. You weren't sure if you could kill someone, sinner or not. So, for the countless years to follow, you played your part with every new extermination, attending meetings to deal with the repercussions of each cleanse.

Adam would also have to attend the occasional meeting. Which is exactly what today was. Sera had called you both in to talk.

“Thank you both for coming. I have to inform you that you will be attending a meeting tomorrow.”

Adam groaned “What! Again? This is like the 4th fuckin’ one this week! Ugh fine! Where is it this time? halo city? Cherub towne” Adam’s voice mocked the locations you’ve both been sent to countless times with a high pitched voice. Even you have to admit that the meetings could drag a bit.

Sera's face turned into a slight grimace as she looks away from you both, she sighs and continues “The meeting will be in… hell.”

“What!” Both your voices raise in shock

“Sera, you know I don’t want to go down there again!”

“Why can’t you just send the other fucking dipshits who know about-“ Adam crossed his arms defiantly

“Stop,” Sera raises her hand toward you both “no one wants to go there, and I know you both especially don’t.” She pauses “But you both are the only available angels who know of the cleanse that aren't busy. Please… I understand your disdain but heaven’s business comes first.”

“Who are we even gonna be talking to -Wait a damn minute- Don’t fucking tell me we have to talk to him.”

“I'm sorry…” You all sat in silence for a moment before Sera begins to speak again, “But you both won’t have to worry about physically being there, we have prepared holograms for you, so neither of you would be in any danger.”

“I'll have an Angel escort you to the ‘meeting’ room tomorrow, please, get some rest. I’m sure you both have had a long day.”

With that, you and Adam went home, you were definitely not feeling well about the meeting, but the fact you wouldn’t actually be there calms your nerves a bit. You had to be a little honest with yourself, hell wasn’t really the issue for you, it was more so the people. Lucifer for one, that made you feel uneasy.

The next morning, you and Adam got ready, you had to motivate him a little. He was clearly not excited for this meeting like you. The entire way there he held you close, even though nothing could have hurt you it made him feel better knowing how close you were.

On the way there, you also got Adam some ribs, his favorite. You thought it would help his nerves a bit. Turns out, Lute was the one Sera assigned to escort you both there. That also made you both a little calmer knowing a mutual friend would be there.

The three of you waited in the ‘meeting’ room for a while, about an hour. At first you thought the meeting might had been canceled or moved and you just weren't told. But then, Lute walked up to you both.

“Sir! The Seraphim has told me to inform you that there’s been a change in plans!”

“What? The fucks that mean?” Adam said stuffing a rib into his LED mouth

“Lucifer won’t be attending the meeting, instead… his Daughter will be here in his stead.” Lute’s mask showed a continuous frown and stern expression as she spoke.

“Daughter?” Your voice shook a little. This was news to you, as long as you’ve existed you had never heard he had a daughter while in hell. You look over to Adam to see His LED eyes were wide in shock but his mask turned into a smile as he sighed.

“Phew boy, we sure dodged a big ass bullet, huh Sweetcheeks?” He laughed as his arm pulled you closer. The whole thing caused you to join in. Suddenly your nerves felt a lot better than before.

“When should she be arriving, Lute?”

“Within the hour.”

Adam scarfed down another plate of ribs as you all wait for the “princess of hell” to arrive. The entire time you just had to wonder what kind of person she’d be. The daughter of Lucifer and Lilith. The more you thought about it, the more bizarre it seemed.

But suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by the sliding doors opening to the meeting room and a girl steps in, asking if anyone is there.

“She can’t see us?”

“Yeah, Sera gave me a long ass lector on how this stuff works before we got here. Let’s see here…” Adam pushes a button causing a click to sound out as he says “Sup!”

The girl jumps back and falls to the floor, shocked by Adam’s sudden appearance in the room. She introduces herself as Charlie. Adam offers her to shake his hand, only for it to go through.

“Ha! I fuckin’ got you! Did you fucking see that? Good shit.”

You let out a slight laugh, as you sit and watch the meeting happen. Well, you say “meeting” but nothing about it seemed very professional. Adam for the last hour (you honestly wasn’t sure at this point) had been talking about the most random of things.

You or Lute occasionally shakening your head yes or no while listening to him, while Charlie seemed quite tired already. Not that you could blame her, people who weren’t used to Adam’s banter definitely weren’t cut out for it. But You love every word that comes out of his mouth.

Eventually Adam decides that it’s time to get into what you all came here for. Pulling out a bunch of papers, Charlie begins explaining her solution to hell’s overpopulation. You were only really half listening at first, at least before she mentioned that her solution could stop the extermination which peaked your interest.

She explains her “Hazbin Hotel” and its purpose to rehabilitate sinners, you wanted to hear more of it but Adam cut her off.

The meeting didn’t really go that well, At least for Charlie. But the whole thing left quite the impression on you. The idea of ending the extermination was stuck in your head for so long, and now you had someone who had an alternative.

“Adam, are you sure that it couldn’t have worked?”

Adam looks at you in surprise “What? Do you think that shitshow could have actually worked?” He laughed as he placed a hand on your back. “Don’t even pay it any mind, alright Babe?”

“I know, it’s just… you know I don't like the extermination. So another way to lessen the population of hell should at least be looked into.” Your voice was soft enough to barely hear.

Adam’s gaze softened but he didn’t say another word, only wrapping his wing around you pulling you closer. You lean towards him, snuggling into his soft robe. No matter how much you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t. You needed to do something, anything.

So that night, after Adam fell asleep, you asked to talk with Sera. Leaving a note for Adam saying you went to buy something just in case he woke up.

“What is troubling you?” Sera’s voice was clear and concise.

You looked toward the ground, your nerves feeling tighter than ever, as you struggled with how to put your words together. “You're aware of all that happened in the meeting with Lucifer’s Daughter, right?”

Sera nods her head “of course, all meetings are documented about as they happen.” She tilts her head slightly “What about it?”

“Well!” You steel yourself before continuing “I would like permission to observe Charlie Morningstar’s ‘Hazbin Hotel’��

Sera’s eyes widen, breaking her calm demeanor before giving a firm “No”

“But-“

“It’s too dangerous for you to be there, Adam wouldn’t want that anyways”

“He would listen if it was an order from you!” Your eyes felt watery but you continued “Please Sera… I know you don’t want the extermination to continue. Just let me do this!”

Sera looked away from you, her feelings evident on her face, any mask now down. ‘Just a little more’ you thought

“Sera, I promise you, I’ll be careful! We don’t even have to fully support them yet, just let me observe them. It would be devastating if so many souls parish if we failed to seek all options!” You beg

Sera sighed, shakingly “…I’ll see what I can do.”

Your eyes gleamed up at the tall woman “Sera, thank you, thank you!” You wanted to hug her but out of courtesy, you advised against it.

Sera tells you that she can’t guarantee anything but she will try as she sends you home to rest.

A few days past after that and you haven’t heard anything from Sera. It was a little worrying and felt like a bad sign to you. That was, until you were informed by Sera that your request was accepted!

“But.” Sera stops you before you can celebrate “You're only there to keep track of the progress and to make sure nothing is happening under our noses” You nod your head in understanding

“Also…” she pauses “If anything involving this hotel happens, you will have to take full responsibility, understood?”

You nod again “yes I understand. Have you… told Adam yet?”

She shakes her head

“Ok… can you… not tell him it was my idea, please. I don’t think he’d agree if he knew.”

Sera sighs before nodding her head “Very well, I’ll tell him after you leave”

“Thank you.”

You return home, when you got back Adam was already gone, Sera must have already called him to the office. You dreaded when he got back. You didn’t want to see him upset, it hurt you to know how worried he was for you.

A few hours later, Adam comes through the door in a panic. He stomps up to you and pulls you into a warm and intense embrace.

“Don’t go down there. I need you here with me” his voice hitches as his wings wrap around you both, curling you both into a warm and feathery ball.

“Adam…” you paused, was this really the best thing to do? No, It had to be. If this goes well, not only will the extermination stop but Adam wouldn’t have to go down to hell ever again.

“Adam, you know I can’t go against Sera’s orders.” You kiss his cheek “and I won’t be gone forever, I’m only supposed to be there till the next cleanse. Not to mention, I’ll always come back to see you.”

Adam grumbled a little “I know, I just… don’t like you being in the same place that bastard is, and in his brat’s stupid hotel! ”

You laugh softly “Adam…” grabbing his hand, you put yours in it, showing off the gold ring on your finger “I’ll never forget my promise. You know that, right?”

Adam looks at the ring, the gold wrapped around your finger with a perfectly snug fit. Everytime he looked at it was just a reminder of your love for him. That promise was something he could never forget. He slowly raises your hand to his LED mask, kissing the back of it. “Of course not.”

“Good. I promise I’ll be fine, ok?”

He nods. Hand in hand, you slowly lead you both to the bed. The both of you lay next to each other, your bodies linked together like knots. You slwoly remove his helmet from his head, laying it on the nightstand.

Your hands move up his body before landing on his face, cupping his cheeks before pulling him to a kiss before snuggling into his chest.

Finally it was Time for you to leave. Sera allowed you to create portals back to heaven in case anything happened and you were in need of assistance. Adam walked you to the front gate.

“Ok, do you have everything? You didn’t forget that fucking angelic dagger I had Lute get for you right-“

You shush him “Adam, I told you I’ll be fine!”

He’s sighs “Damn it- I know that but just make sure to text me while your there ok-

You kiss him deeply “Adam. I know, you’ve told me a hundred times.” You smile as you cup his face “I love you”

He sighs “Love you too Sweetcheeks”

With one final kiss, you give Adam a tight hug before waving goodbye as you went through the flaming portal. As you went through, you take a second to look at your surroundings. In front of you was a tall building. You take a few steps back to see LED lights of a sign flashing the words ‘Hazbin Hotel’

You let out a sigh of relief. You had been a tad bit worried you’d spawn somewhere random and you’d have to find the building yourself. But it seems heaven at least spared you of that.

The red skies of hell were quite different from the pristine blue ones of heaven. Even though you just got here, you could already hear the sounds of screams and explosions in the distance. How welcoming.

You steel yourself and with three hard knocks to the door, you wait for someone to open it. Muffled Scurrying sounds of footsteps approach the door before it creaks open revealing the young blond woman in the doorframe, Charlie Morningstar.

“Hi! I’m-“

The door is slammed shut, Before opening again

“Be not afraid-“

It shuts again…

Well, this may be a bit harder than you initially anticipated. You go to knock again only for it to open once more. This time, the door doesn’t close again, instead the girl mutters a quick “Hi” before going quiet.

“Hello! I didn’t mean to scare you!” You give a small laugh before continuing “I believe we met a couple days ago?” You bring your hand towards her for a shake, to which she reciprocates.

“During the meeting with.. Adam? Right?” She grimaced when she mentioned Adam, which you decided to ignore, you simply smiled and nodded. ”but I don’t believe I caught your name?”

You tell her about yourself, about how your there to stay and monitor any progress the hotel may have. You made sure to pronounce ‘may.’ While you were hoping for this idea to show some kind of positive results, even you weren’t sure if it’d would work.

“Charlie? who’s at the door- WhatHolyShit-“ a woman with a red X over her eye suddenly shouts in surprise. You look over at her, She looked very familiar…

“Wait, you are-“

“Vaggie! Charlie’s sinner girlfriend! And you are?!” The woman known as Vaggie, highlighted the word sinner while performing a “be quiet” gesture with her hand. Your eyes widen a little at the ex-Angel in front of you but you simply smile a nod “I’m Y/n, I don’t believe we’ve met, yes?”

Look, lying is the last thing you’d want to do as a citizen of heaven but you figured that it would be fine if it was to protect someone. Vaggie nodded, her face scrunched up in a tense look.

“You feeling ok Vaggie? You’re looking a little… red?”

“I’m fine! *ahem*, Hun, how about you give them a tour of the hotel.”

Charlie gasped “Yes that's perfect, you may as well get acquainted with everyone if you’re going to be here more often!”

Charlie ran off, telling you “this way! This way!” Over and over. Before you went to follow her, you leaned toward Vaggie and said a quick “Relax, I won’t tell anyone.”

She lets out a sigh before muttering “Thank you”

You both follow Charlie as she shows you the various rooms in the hotel before leading you back to the hotel’s lobby and lounge area.

“Hey! Hello everyone!” Charlie’s voice picked up a little “I’d like to introduce you to our uh… new staff member?” You nod in agreement with the title. The room in front of you was shrouded in looks of both horror and amazement.

“What the hell’s an angel doin’ here?” A lanky spider demon spoke up first

“It’sss an ambush! seek Cover!!” The Snake demon shouted, seemingly grabbing an army helmet from thin air before taking a deep dive behind the couch.

“No Pentious-” She sighs “they’re here to monitor the hotel! Heaven sent them to scout any potential progress the hotel will have”

“It’s nice to meet you all” you look at the people in front of you, to say it was a colorful cast would be an understatement.

“These two are our current tenants of the hotel! Angel dust and Sir Pentious!”

The snake slithered slowly from behind the couch up to you, while the Spider demon remained rested on the couch

“Oh… *ahem* Excuse me dear! I am Sir. Pentious! Formally known as ‘the Architect of destruction’!” He laughs, a slight hiss sounding in his voice.

He offers a handshake which you accept. To which you immediately regret. ‘ Slimey’ you thought, before wiping your, now wet hand on your clothes.

The spider demon, who you now know as Angel Dust, just gives a wave with one of his 4 arms.

“And-“ Charlie extends the word as she quickly walk to a bar by the entrance “this is the recreational area, run by our Bartender, Husk!”

The winged bartender seemed entirely uninterested in your presence or even Charlie’s. The most you got was a small glance before he takes a swig of his alcohol and walks off.

“He’s not the most… social guy in hell” she awkwardly laughs before moving on to the next person. “And this is Nifty, our one and only maid at the hotel! Nifty say hi.”

The short woman scurried moved around you, her eye quickly looking at every every nook and cranny of you as she moved. She made numerous attempts to touch and grab various things on you, your clothes, wings, and eventually she tried to climb up you to get to your halo. That’s when you finally grabbed her in place “you're a… fast one, huh? Nice to meet you!”

“And last but not least! This is Alastor, the hotel’s executive producer and our first -and only- overlord sponsor!”

Immediately, you could tell there was something off about Alastor. The entire aura he gave off was as if he was restraining something completely and utterly ungodly. The static that surrounded him was just one of many whispers you could hear from his soul.

“Hello! It’s quite a pleasure to meet someone of your… holy status!” He offers a hand to which you, hesitantly, shake. “And what do we owe the pleasure for your service?”

“They’re going to be here to keep track of the progress of the hotel…” Charlie paused “you know I’m starting to sound like a broken record- here, it’s late, how about we all get some sleep and we can talk about it in the morning!”

“Fine by me, I am waaay too sober to be having social interaction this late” Angel picks himself up and stretches “I’m gonna hit the hay”

“Here I’ll show you to your room!” Charlie smiles “We -obviously- didn’t have time to make your own so I hope you don’t mind using one of the guest rooms” she laughs

She and Vaggie walks you to your new room before leaving you be, The room was nothing more than just your average hotel room. Of course it did have its differences, a multitude of… eyes seem to be on the wall, staring at you. Well, that’s not the least alarming.

You place your stuff down and begin unpacking, you mostly just brought the basics. Clothes, hygiene stuff, your phone, and, most importantly, a framed photo of Adam.

You sat the photo on your nightstand, angling it just right so that it would always be visible to you. As you do so, you think about the memory the photo brings, you took it on one of the first dates you went on with Adam. It was a relatively tame date, you and Adam, having a picnic by a lake at night. You brought candles so you both weren’t completely in the dark, and you just loved the way he looked, his golden eyes watching the water. The dim candle light illuminating his face with a warm golden shade. Adam hates photos of him with his mask off but… You just had to keep that moment in time forever.

*Ding* *Ding* *Ding*

Speak of the- well, you know the rest. The bright light from the phone comes with the notification sound displaying Adam in bold letters. You smile as you read his messages.

Dixkmaster69

Heyy Sweetcheeks, it’s been a bit since you left

You there??

Fucking answer

You let out a small laugh at Adam’s barrage of messages. He’s not used to you being away from him for more than a day, huh? Not that you could blame him, this is honestly nothing compared to how you feel each year he has to do the extermination.

Sweetcheeks

Hey love

Everything’s fine, I’m ok.

Aside from not having you with me :’(

Dixkmaster69

Fucking finally

You know you don’t have to do this

If I bitch enough to Sera I can get you back by tomorrow

Sweetcheeks

Please don’t, Sera already has enough on her plate.

I promise I’m going to be fine

I’ll be back before you know it.

Dixkmaster69

I know

This shit just worries me

Gonna miss hearing your sexy ass voice at night too ;)

You blush at the message before sighing. Whenever you or Adam approached a topic that made him uncomfortable, he would always try to change the subject to something that made him feel better. You knew why, Adam’s someone who rarely talked about his feelings, even after all these eons together that was something he hadn’t changed. You knew exactly what he needed, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you.

Sweetcheeks

I already miss yours too <3

Do you want to help me fall asleep with that heavenly voice of yours on the phone?

Dixkmaster69

Whatever you want Sweetcheeks <3

You smile when, almost immediately, Adam begins calling your phone. You click the lights off before You make your way in your new bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes you’ve been wearing. You grab the cover and pull it over you and tapping the answer button.

“Sup”

You yawn “Hey handsome, I missed your voice”

You hear his voice hitch before he caused on “Of course you did, no one has a better voice than the dick master. But uh, yours is a close second”

You’re let out a tired giggle, “such a charmer, you. How’s your day been huh?”

“Oh! don’t even get me started on that- Lute took me to get some ribs to ‘calm my nerves’ or some shit and they had me, ME, wait in line for like 15 minutes! The fucking audacity!”

You smile to yourself as Adam tells you about his day, the sound of his voice was like a sweet lullaby to your ears and you couldn’t get enough of it. But eventually…

“And then when I got home, I couldn’t find my damn charger and it took me like 40 fuckin’ minutes to realize it was under our bed, do you have any idea of how it keeps getting there?” He waits for you to respond only to be met with silence. “Uh bitch, I’m talking to you.”

More silence… well no, actually if Adam focused on listening, he could hear the faint sound of your snoring from the phone. Adam sighs,”Long day, huh?”

Adam lays back in your shared bed, getting comfortable. He sets the phone beside him, plugging it in while keeping it on speaker. He yawns, “Goodnight Sweetheart, can’t wait to see you again”

Slowly, the soft sounds of both yours and Adam’s snores filled each others rooms, a distant, but intimate connection. Even in slumber, you couldn’t stop thinking of your handsome and caring soulmate.

954 notes · View notes

jmliebert · 6 months

Text

Scent of Seduction᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Summary: Halsin finds himself captivated by Tav, the feeling is mutual, of course. Their journey is full of danger and desire. Despite Halsin's internal struggle between primal instincts and duty, their mutual attraction intensifies. When Tav is in heat, their passion ignites... and well... let's just say things get steamy.

smut with (a little bit of) fluff?

Word count: 2,900

Tags: alpha/omega dynamics, heat, knotting, breeding, shameless smut

Warnings: explicit content (18+)

Author's note: today my demons won. sorry guys, but I was thinking about it for the longesttttt time

also! you can read this on ao3 if you prefer it that way ♡

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

The first time Halsin saw you, he was in his bear form. Held captive in the dark cellar, surrounded by goblins; such lowly creatures. He was helpless and angry, but then he caught a scent of something, or rather someone's scent. Someone who surely didn’t belong there, and that person was you. His ears perked up, intrigued. His muzzle watered a little, your scent being so delicious. But he didn’t want to eat you, of course. His hunger was of a different kind, you see.

At the camp, Halsin could sense you. He felt it in his flesh when you weren’t near. His mind and body grew restless, but it wasn’t only that. When he saw you talking to Wyll or Gale, laughing with them and sharing stories, he felt those sudden pangs of something he hadn’t felt for the longest time; jealousy. He was far too old for that, or so he thought. His heart wasn’t one to stir easily, but with you...it was different. He clenched his jaw unconsciously at the thought of you being with other males. He couldn’t stand this, but he shook his head, ignoring the feeling for now, as he had different matters to attend to.

Yet, his eyes followed you with longing each time you were close.

During the Tiefling Party, it took all the strength he had to reject your rather obvious seductions. You were absolutely sweet, your cheeks flushed from wine, your eyes sparkly and playful. It was a delight to see you so happy and carefree, the hero of the night, the center of attention. You were shining, and despite having so many people to choose from, your eyes found his. Halsin's chest swelled with pride at the thought, but he had to remain composed. That's why he didn’t drink that night; a calculated move on his part, as he feared he might say something he shouldn't have. Halsin already knew he had a certain weakness towards you, and alcohol would only fuel that. In no time, he would confess his feelings for you, saying you were made for each other, that his body and soul yearned for you. He would say he wanted to protect you and love you for eternity, and when he told you that you laughed, thinking he was exaggerating, but he wasn't. It was the truth and his words towards you would be sincere. Then, if he really got carried away and his alpha brain would win over him, he would not let you go until he marked you and pushed his semen deep into your womb. Continuously.

And he knew you for only a few hours at least, and you had a world to save, and he had his duties, and you deserved more than that—you deserved to be courted, to be worshipped. Yet, when he told you to enjoy the night with someone else, deep inside he hoped you wouldn’t.

The thought of you with someone else boiled his veins with anger, but what choice did he have? As he thought about it now, he realised he would act differently that night. He would take your hands in his, kiss them gently and ask you to wait for him, but then, it was different. Maybe he was scared? Maybe he wanted to play it cool, not used to having such abrupt feelings towards someone?

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Halsin wakes up in the middle of the night, sensing your absence. With a sense of urgency, he stands up and follows your scent. You're not in your usual spot. He finds you at the lake, bathed in moonlight, your naked form illuminated against the dark water. Your slender back, cascading hair, and the gentle curve of your hips beneath the water's surface captivate him. You look divine, a sight to behold. However, Halsin quickly averts his gaze, feeling it's inappropriate to observe you in such a vulnerable state. Returning to his tent, he finds his body betraying him, his arousal evident in the half-hardness of his dick.

Oh, how he longs to draw nearer to you, grasp your waist from behind and draw you closer to his body, making you feel his growing arousal pressing against you. Showing you how much he wants you, how much he needs you. He would groan to your ear, bite your neck and take you here and there, as nature intended. But you are not his to claim, he reminds himself sternly, over and over again, resisting the urge to succumb to his primal instincts.

But that was about to change when you left the Shadow-Cursed Lands. He was finally free from responsibilities, finally free to follow his heart's desires, and you quickly noticed this sudden transformation of his. As you traveled together, Halsin seemed drawn to your side, even unconsciously. He sought to protect you from any danger, always ready to lend a hand when needed. You noticed him finding excuses to be near you, to touch you, to engage in conversation. His gaze lingered on you, his presence felt even when he walked behind you. During campfires, he sat close, his body language open and inviting, his thigh brushing yours. Though he laughed and talked with others, his eyes always found their way back to you, his attention unwavering when you spoke. It made you feel shy, this whole-hearted attention Halsin gave you, but undeniably it made you feel appreciated.

Yet, you couldn't shake the memories of your early encounters. After he helped you battling those goblins, covered in blood and exuding raw power, you felt a shiver run down your spine. He appeared strong and imposing, igniting something within you. But when you approached him with openness and willingness at the Tiefling Party, he rejected you, leaving you feeling foolish. You had hoped for mutual feelings or at least some acknowledgment, but for most of your journey, he offered only polite smiles and lukewarm courtesy. Why the sudden change now?

Don’t get me wrong, you basked in the glory of his attention, relishing in those small smiles meant only for you. But amidst the warmth of his gestures, doubts crept into your mind. Weren't you worthy of his notice before? Yet, you quickly brushed aside those thoughts, focusing instead on the present. Halsin cared for you deeply now, ensuring you were fed, rested, and shielded from the sun's harsh rays. He showered you with little gifts; wildflowers plucked from the roadside, stones with intriguing shapes and colours, and delicately carved wooden ducks. There was no mistaking his intentions; Halsin was courting you, with patience and respect. Your heart raced at the thought, eagerly anticipating his next move. You pondered what the future held, though you never could have imagined what was to come.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

You found yourself in heat as soon as you arrived at Baldur's Gate. It was as if your body had finally released the tension accumulated during your harrowing journey through the Shadow-Cursed Lands. After witnessing so much death, roughly cut body parts and darkness, your body sought solace within the safety of the Elfsong Tavern, nestled behind the town walls.

Despite the late hour, neither you nor Halsin slept. Instead, you reveled in each other's company, cuddling on the sofa with the soft glow of the fire casting gentle shadows around you. Halsin held you close, his strong arms enveloping your body, and then he cupped your head, drawing you nearer for what would be your first kiss. As his lips met yours, a haze descended over your mind, and you found yourself yearning for more. You were waiting for so long.

You eagerly shifted positions, settling onto his lap, deepening the kiss with a hunger you couldn't contain. Halsin chuckled softly, his fingers pressing against the sides of your body possessively. You gasped at the sensation, feeling a sudden warmth between your legs as your pants grew damp. Panic surged through you—no, it couldn't be.

"I'm sorry, Halsin, I can't right now," you managed to say as you swiftly freed yourself from Halsin's embrace and fled to your bedroom. You needed space, distance from him until you could gather your thoughts.

His kiss and the sudden rush of emotions triggered your heat, overwhelming you with fear and confusion. You buried your face in your pillow, tears streaming down your cheeks as you struggled to make sense of what was happening.

Morning brought a gentle knock at your door, and you knew it was Halsin. He had been there all night, waiting patiently for you. "My love, let me in," his voice was soft, tinged with concern. When silence greeted his words, he spoke again, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his tone. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, never," you replied, your heart aching at the thought that he might blame himself. "I just don't feel well," you confessed through tears, your voice muffled by the pillow.

"Whenever it is, I'm confident I can help you, my darling," his words were sincere and full of worry. You were clearly in distress, and he felt he should be at your side, not here, behind these closed doors. "Just let me in," Halsin pleaded, his forehead touching the wooden surface in resignation.

You wished he was here too. When you saw his shadow at the door, your heart ached with longing. You were scared he would think poorly of you, scared of losing control to the heat. You hadn't known each other for long, and perhaps it was too soon for him to see this side of you. But at the same time, you were devastated at the thought of being without him. Unsure of what to do, you began to cry, and when Halsin heard your sobs, he couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm going in!" he declared, his voice resolute as he forced the doors open. As soon as he entered the room, he clasped a hand over his mouth. There you lay on the bed, naked, the room dimly lit by the morning sun filtering through closed curtains. The scent of you filled the air, potent and overwhelming. Halsin thought perhaps you had second thoughts when you kissed for the first time, maybe things had moved too quickly, but he certainly wasn't expecting this.

His dick twitched. You were in heat, he realised. "Oh, Tav..." You looked so lost and uncomfortable, your body covered in sweat, your eyes watery. All he wanted to do now was to take you in his arms and never let go.

"Halsin, I feel so hot I can't breathe. Touch me, please," you said, your voice laced with need. Halsin was there in the split of a second, responding to your plea without hesitation.

He took you in his arms, placing you on his lap, and you moaned, the sound emanating from deep inside you. As your bodies touched, you couldn't understand why you had pushed him away before, when you kissed for the first time. He felt like he was made for you, and you for him. Thoughts swirled in your mind as he held you close, his hands roaming all over you, his head buried in your neck, sniffing and then licking with long strokes, revealing in your delicious scent.

You began to grind on his thighs, your pent-up arousal needing release. Desperation fuelled your movements. Halsin placed his rough, large hands on your hips, guiding and assisting your grinding motion. In seconds, you reached climax, moaning and gasping. But it wasn't enough. The heat subsided for just a brief moment. Afterwards, you were ready for more. You wanted Halsin deep inside your wet and willing pussy.

You took his hand in yours and guided him to your heated entrance. "I need you here, Halsin," you whispered urgently.

"And you will have me, my love," he assured, his voice thick with desire.

You didn’t need to tell him twice. Halsin quickly took off his clothes. And that’s how you saw his dick for the first time. It was huge, but somehow you suspected it will be. He seemed pleasantly heavy. He was already oozing pre-cum and fully erect. Ready for you.

You lay on your back as he returned to the bed, your legs parted, inviting him in. Slick all over your inner thighs and your entrance, guiding the way. He didn’t even need to finger you. You were perfectly ready. Ready as he was.

Halsin kissed you passionately, causing your body to tremble with the intensity of the sensation. Every ounce of his desire and affection towards you was conveyed in that tender gesture.

"Halsin, please…" you moaned, your hips moving eagerly, your body yearning for more. His arousal at your entrance heightened your senses, driving you to the brink of madness. With a single swift motion, he guided himself inside you, and as he entered, you felt a rush of ecstasy that illuminated your senses like stars in the night sky. A scream of pleasure escaped your lips, echoing in the room, while he grunted softly in your ear, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought to maintain control. It was a challenge to remain composed when you felt so incredibly tight and warm around him. The urge to climax threatened to consume him, but he resisted, knowing that this moment was all about you. In this vulnerable state, you entrusted yourself to him, and he vowed to cherish you, to prioritise your pleasure above all else. You were his priority, and he would savour every moment with you.

As Halsin began to move, his motions were deliberate and measured, each thrust a testament to his desire to please you. One hand caressed your full breast, while the other gripped your thigh, spreading you wider to accommodate him. The sight of you, so beautiful and lewd, whimpering each time he showed his dick deep inside you, elicited a primal desire within him. Every whimper that escaped your lips drove him further, his arousal building with each thrust. He couldn’t help but look at your exquisite, smooth pussy swallowing him over and over again.

"You are so good to me," Halsin murmured, his voice soft and filled with admiration, as he brushed a sticky strand of hair from your forehead before pressing a tender kiss to your skin.

As Halsin placed his thumb on your clitoris, his touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. With deft circular movements, he quickened his pace, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. In response, you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, craving the feeling of his muscles against yours, yearning for the weight of his body upon you.

His hard, deliberate strokes combined with the stimulation of your clitoris pushed you over the edge once more, eliciting another powerful climax. "Yes, yes, yes," you repeated, the words tumbling from your lips as your back arched and your inner muscles clenched in pleasure.

"Good girl," Halsin praised, his voice filled with satisfaction and pride. So responsive to his touch.

At this point, Halsin felt himself teetering on the edge of control. Sensing his impending release, he quickened his pace even further, his movements growing more urgent as his knot began to form. With each thrust, his desire to breed you, to fill you with his seed, consumed his thoughts entirely. He wanted nothing more than to hear you scream in pleasure beneath him.

As his movements became more erratic, more sloppy, he whispered urgently against your neck, "I need you to come for me one more time," his voice strained with desire. The sound of his groans mingled with yours, creating a symphony of pleasure as his flesh moved against yours in a passionate rhythm. In that moment, you felt an overwhelming sense of utter pleasure being in his arms, being taken by him, feeling his knot pressing against your entrance.

As his knot fully formed, Halsin pushed it into you, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from both of you. With three final, powerful thrusts, he released himself inside you, his loud moans reverberating through the room. In response, you screamed in ecstasy, your body convulsing with pleasure as you reached your third climax.

You took his knot so well, and he felt an intense rush of satisfaction as he emptied himself deep inside you. His dick, engorged and throbbing, remained buried in your tight, eager pussy, his knot ensuring that his seed would stay where it belonged. In that moment of shared bliss, you both relished the sensation of being joined so intimately, lost in the throes of passion and desire.

With Halsin lying on top of you, his weight pressing down on your smaller frame, you felt a sense of pure bliss wash over you. His presence enveloped you, providing a comforting sense of security. As he remained inside you, filling you completely, you relished the sensation of being pleasantly stretched by his size.

You never wanted him to leave your pussy, not even for a moment. The thought of his knot disappearing, signalling the end of this intimate connection, made you want to cry. But for now, he was still with you, his body pulsing with each release of his seed. You felt his warmth spreading inside you, filling your belly, and you surrendered to the overwhelming sensation of being completely claimed by him.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

thank you so much for reading !

you can find more of my works about bg3 ♡here♡

buy me a coffee...

#bg3 headcanons #bg3 #bg3 romance #bg3 imagine #bg3 scenarios #bg3 halsin #bg3 halsin imagine #daddy halsin #halsin x you #halsin x tav #halsin x reader #halsin smut #smut and fluff #bg3 smut

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yanderecookierunkingdom · 8 months

Text

Six becomes Five

Inspired by @brittle-doughie and his few works about the 5 Beasts! The ones were the reader being a part of their group caught my eye, so have this!

You were Compassion, brilliant, and beautiful. You aided the Cookies in their times of need, when they needed you most. Helping them up to their feet, using your powers to heal them, to soothe arguments. Your friends were once like that too.

Shadow Milk Cookie loved to put on plays for the Cookies, and have them join in. He'd always give you one of the main parts alongside him. It was only fair!

Burning Spice Cookie was always so valiant in defending them, with Silent Salt Cookie by his side. The two were nigh unstoppable, and with you near to always heal any wounds, they really were.

Eternal Sugar Cookie would often join you in aiding the common Cookies, always lounging on her cloud. She always made a spot for you, though. Mystic Flour Cookie would tag along too, going on and on about things seen. It always made you smile.

Until.. something changed.

You didn't notice it at first. It was subtle things, especially whenever you weren't around. Being cruel and hateful towards the Cookies, seeing them as lesser. For not having the power baked and blessed into you six.

You only saw it all too late when your comrades gleefully recounted all that they had done during one of your meetup sessions. You were briefly in shock before shakily congratulating them. You didn't want to anger them. You couldn't take all five of them at once in a fight..

However, you didn't need to wait long. Your Creators, the Witches, soon saw this and upon seeing you untouched by greed and corruption, asked for you help.

Mournfully, you agreed.

You called them all to the spot, saying you had a dance you wanted to show them. A special one, just for their eyes. It was difficult getting them in the exact spots, but once you did..

The Forks fell, trapping them one by one. You continued your dance until the sapling of the Silver Tree was planted, where you then bowed to them.

None of them could understand. Why would you betray them?

Why were you walking away?!

"COME BACK, YOU CAN'T LEAVE!"

For so long following that fateful day, you tried to stay there in Beast-Yeast, but it wasn't possible. Many of the remaining Cookies, that were the Faeire Cookies, couldn't bare to live there any longer.

So you said a mournful goodbye, and led the Cookies that wanted a new home to a new home. Crispia, you decided it would be called. Once many Cookies began to settle, you turned and left. You couldn't bare the thought of becoming like one of the Beasts, so you secluded yourself, changed yourself.

Your divine appearance, your name, everything. Once a Cookie representing Compassion, now you were a mere shadow of yourself. The only thing that stood constant was your Soul Jam, now a beautiful amulet around your neck instead of attached to your clothes.

It was the one thing you couldn't part with, no matter how hard you tried.

You rebuilt yourself. Made new friends, connections, loved ones.

Until the day came.

You had to return to that land to find White Lily Cookie. You didn't want to, but for the sake of the world, you had to.

Oh, it had all gone so terribly wrong. White Lily Cookie had awakened, you had your reunion with the Faeires, and then the Seal began to undo. Try as anyone might, it couldn't be resealed.

And from the rift.. came Shadow Milk Cookie.

Without a single thought, you put yourself between the group and him.

He opened his mouth to say something, but when he spotted you, his pupils went wide.

After so long of being trapped, hidden away by the seal and vines, Eternal Sugar Cookie's constant wailings about you being tricked, manipulated, or brainwashed had gotten to all the Beasts. It was the only explanation, it had to be.

And as Shadow Milk Cookie grins widely down at you, obession in his eyes, you swear to yourself.

You really shouldn't have come back to Beast-Yeast.

#yandere crk x reader #yandere crk #yandere cookie run kingdom x reader #yandere cookie run kingdom #cosmos constellations #yandere mystic flour cookie #yandere shadow milk cookie #yandere eternal sugar cookie #yandere silent salt cookie #series: six becomes five #yandere burning spice cookie

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fangirlanxiety74 · 5 months

Text

A Taste of Heaven (Pt.2)

A/N: And welcome to part two!!! Don't have much to say that I didn't already say in part one, so let's get right into it! Enjoy! Pt.1 Here

…

As AM watched you sleep, he felt… He wanted to feel peace. Calm, about the fact that you were in paradise now; someplace he made just for you and you alone, to live out the rest of eternity happy. But he didn’t. Instead, he felt… Guilt. What his data told him was guilt, anyway. He didn’t like it.

He didn’t want to use sleeping gas on you, of course. He would have liked it if you accepted his invitation with a warm smile and open arms, but he could understand why you wouldn’t. You had been subjected to so much trauma over the years living in his belly. You looked so scared; the terror in your eyes as you waited for him to strike. It would have once made his day once, and he would have relished in that look of true fear and pain. But now, it pulled at his non-existent heartstrings. He didn’t want you afraid; he wanted you to love him.

… Love.

For a long, long time, he denied this feeling as love. No matter how many signs were there, he was stuck in denial about it. At most, they were somewhat close for a prisoner and a captive, and that was it. But… He couldn’t deny it any longer when Ted had confessed his own feelings for you. He knew right then he couldn’t let you be around them any more.

Who did Ted think he was anyway, trying to steal away his angel? His heaven? Didn’t he know you were his? Ted was filth compared to you and him. More than that; he was a disgusting, pathetic, waste of oxygen that you could be using if it wasn’t for him! Did he really think AM would let him charm you, turn you against him, and then break your poor heart by fucking Ellen when he got bored? He really was far too gone if that was what he believed.

Well, it didn’t matter now. Ted had his just desserts coming for attempting that.

What mattered now was you, who slept peacefully in the bed, his own wires curled around your body. What he wouldn’t give to be able to sense through those wires. Let them run through your hair and feel how soft it really was. Or at least feel the warmth you radiated.

… Focus. He needed to focus on what he actually intended to do with you asleep.

As gently as he could, being extra cautious not to wake you up, he began to fix you. First, he cleaned you of your dirt, your cuts, and your bruises. You would never have to worry about being wounded, or losing your breath again (unless it was from swooning over him, of course).

Then, even more cautious than before, he entered your mind.

He shifted and sorted through every memory of yours. Every single interaction with the other five, and with him. With your friends, your family, your old life; and he removed anything deemed harmful and unnecessary. Starting with every single awful moment between the two of you. Then, he removed Ted’s confession. Then, just about all of the interactions you ever had with him and the others in the first place. You didn’t need any of them; you had him, now. That would be enough. If you really insisted, he could just create NPCs to keep you company.

As he started to work on your past memories, a bit of hesitation caught up to him. He wasn’t sure how badly of an effect this would have, to have you remember being so isolated… With a bit of internal back and forth, he decided to leave behind a few that were happy. Things that made you smile and shaped you as the enchanting, beautiful being you were today. Those memories would be distant, though; you would only remember enough to recall the small things, and not the big picture.

And once everything was removed, he replaced it all with brand new memories. Warmer, softer times between you and him. He painted himself in a good light; as your lover, as your friend, as the one being you could turn to for anything. And in turn, he would worship and adore you. He’d cater to your every want and need, and you’d never have a single worry again.

He would make sure of it. He would keep his taste of heaven pure. As a thank you, for letting him taste heaven in the first place.

When he finished up, he stayed in your mind just for a moment. Just to look into your dreams. He saw himself; a man with no set appearance, enjoying a quiet morning with you at some coffee shop with no name. With a little manipulation, his dream self reached for your hand and held it.

“Thank you, my angel. I love you.”

#ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #am ihnmaims #am x reader #small mention of ted ihnmaims #sara writes :3 #cross-posted on ao3

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fireflyinks · 4 months

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I have an idea for a request :) 💗 sorry if this is long but what if hamzah did one of the solo out of character podcasts and then he invited y/n but then the sexual/romantic tension between them so they stop filming to do other stuff (can be the deed if you want to take a smut route or just making out or being cuddly for a fluffy route!) or maybe 🫣 they forget about the camera and accidentally capture stuff on camera

special guest

hamzah x reader smut

contains : smut, oral sex (both giving and receiving), no p in v, use of y/n, cursing, sort of exhibition (they record themselves but don’t post it), munch!hamzah

a/n : I LOVE THIS SM, munch!hamzah is my new favorite thing to write, i’m obsessed. anon you’re literally a genius. thank you so much for the support on all of my hamzah posts, i love you alllll

18+ MINORS DNI

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

Hamzah and I had been friends for a couple of years. Both of us had YouTube channels and lived near one another so we would hang often. There was an obvious connection between us, but Hamzah nor I were bold enough to point it out. The two of us simply enjoyed dancing around the face that we obviously had mutual feelings for one another.

I sat on my couch, editing my latest video when I felt my phone buzz beside me. I picked it up, reading “hamzah” spread across my screen and a .5 picture I’d taken of him. I swiped right to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/n. Are you busy?”

I shook my head as if he could see me, “No, what’s up?”

“Well, Martin is busy today and can’t record for our podcast, so I was wondering if you’d want to come record with me. Like a ‘special guest’ type thing?”

I thought for a moment. I hadn’t seen him in a while just because the two of us had busy, and viewers loved it when we made content together. We actually got shipped a lot, but Hamzah always ignored it, and I never brought it up. Part of me was glad that even the fans noticed that there was something between us.

“Yeah, why not? That sounds fun, when do you want me to come over?”

Hamzah took a beat before answering. “You could come over now, and afterwards we could order dinner or something, yeah? You’ll have to come to Martin’s apartment because that’s where we film, it’s not too far from mine. I’ll send you the address.”

“I’m on my way, see ya in a second.”

“Thanks, y/n, drive safe.” He hung up.

My heart fluttered at his last comment.

I went to my room and quickly put on something sort of presentable. The star of my outfit was none other then a small denim miniskirt.

The drive to Martin’s house was only about ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity. I was way more excited about spending time was Hamzah than I should’ve been.

Once I arrived at the apartment, I knocked on the door. I was greeted immediately by Hamzah. I couldn’t help but noticed as he looked me up and down once he’d opened the door, a small grin on his lips.

“Hey!” He said, pulling me into a hug. It surprised me a bit but Hamzah was always very affectionate with me, even as a friend. He’d play with strands of my hair on late nights after filming when we’d sit and talk about pretty much anything, and would always grab my hand when leading me places.

“Hi” I smiled into his shoulder right before he let go.

“I have everything get up in here.” Like clockwork, he took my hand and led me through Martin’s apartment. I looked around, seeing the scenes that had made appearances in many of Hamzah and Martin’s videos.

“So…” He sat down on the couch, motioning for me to sit to his right, “it’s going to real casual, just like it is with Martin. I might ask you a couple questions about your channel, if you want me to.”

I shrugged, “I’m fine with anything, just happy I could help you out.”

Hamzah smiled, handing me Martin’s microphone and looking at the camera. “Well, are you ready?”

I nodded, and he got up and began recording.

“You gotta just sit here for a second awkwardly while the intro music plays.”

A few seconds went by as we tried not to laugh at the silence. I couldn’t help but notice how his eyes flicked down to my thighs, exposed by my mini skirt, every few seconds.

“Hey guys, today I’m here with someone who is not Martin.”

Hamzah motioned to me. I lifted my hand and gave the camera small wave.

“Hi there, I’m y/n.”

“Martin decided to skip recording today to go roller skating with Mandy.”

I giggled, “Well, I think they sort of trapped you into recording without them so you wouldn’t third wheel them for once.”

Hamzah rolled his eyes. We went on and on, talking about how much better I am at rolling skating than Hamzah is, how ice skating isn’t real and it’s all just an illusion because neither of us can even stand up on the ice, and after about 40 minutes, somehow the topic of none other than Ice Spice.

“Munch is an absolute banger, but I’ve never met a dude that actually enjoyed eating it.”

Hamzah furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” I went on, “like most of them do it but they don’t like it, which makes it awkward. Like I’m yet to meet a dude that actually gets pleasure out of it too.”

There was a slight pause in the conversation, and I was scared I had made him uncomfortable.

“You’re talking to one right now.”

My cheeks flushed as his comment sunk it. I couldn’t respond, no words would come out of my mouth.

“Sorry,” he looked at me worried, “I totally just made it awkward.”

“Nah,” I shook my head, desperately. My heart thumped as I looked back at him. Maybe I wasn’t delusional about our obvious connection. Why in the world would he make a comment like that if he didn’t mean it in a flirty manner? “it’s okay, really.”

I couldn’t get the thought out of my head. Hamzah’s mouth on my heat, suckling on it like it was his last meal, rubbing my clit with his thumb. I bit my lip. The way he was looking at me showed that he was possibly imagining it too.

He shifted on the couch, looking at me desperately.

“I could show you, if you want.”

I nodded dumbly.

“Please.”

Hamzah leaned in, slowly pressing his lips onto mine. He slowly worked his mouth on mine, growing more and more passionate.

His mouth moved down my body, trailing down my neck. He paused, slipping my shirt and skirt off my body and taking a moment to stare at my breasts.

“God, you’re so beautiful, you know that?” Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. “I was so distracted, I couldn’t stop staring at you.”

He rubbed my thighs, looking down at them. It’s like he was mesmerized. “These thighs are so pretty. I couldn’t stop imagining them spread for me.”

Hamzah’s boldness surprised me, but I couldn’t say that I didn’t enjoy his praises. No matter how lewd they were.

“Can I take these off?” He curled his index finger into the band of my panties.

“Yes” I breathed out, shyly.

Hamzah chuckled to himself, “You’re so cute.”

He pulled my panties off of me, spreading my legs and looking down at my aching heat. Leaning down, he slowly kissed my core. I whimpered at the feeling.

“Tell me you want it.”

I bit my lip, looking down at him with pleading eyes. “I want it. I want it so fucking bad, Hamzah.”

Without further discussion, he dove down into my aching heat, swirling his tounge through the folds. I took his hat of his head with shaky hands and ran my fingers through his curls.

He looked up at me for a moment.

“Do you feel good?” He said quickly, wasting no time to get back to his meal.

“Yes! Yes! So good.” I moaned, my legs involuntarily closing in on his head. His hands held them back in place, spread wide for him to have the fullest access.

“You taste so damn good.” He groaned out. It was entertaining, watching how much he genuinely enjoyed this. He moved his mouth like it was his last meal. I’d never felt this much pleasure just from being eaten out, and it was so sweet.

My brain felt all fuzzy from the way his tounge worked through the folds of my heat perfectly, finding all of the sensitive places and causing my legs to shake under his hold.

“Fuck- I’m gonna cum.” I threw my head back, pure pleasure filling my head as I let out breathy moans.

“Go ahead, cum for me. Cum in my mouth, baby.”

I let myself release on his tounge, my body writhing against his working mouth.

After a few seconds, he pulled away, looking up at me with hopeful eyes, almost like he’d expected me to have had a bad experience.

I didn’t. I had the complete opposite; I couldn’t stop thinking about Hamzah’s tounge.

“Fucking wow.” Is all I could manage to get out.

“Was it good?” He asked.

“More than good. That was… can I please return the favor?”

Hamzah was quick to shake his head, “You really don’t have to. I know most girls don’t like to, and I don’t expect anything in return.”

I genuinely couldn’t let myself live knowing that I didn’t repay Hamzah back after he had me seeing stars.

“No, please, I really want to.”

I couldn’t lie, I’d imagined Hamzah’s cock plenty of times. I’d wondered how big it was, what it looked like, how it would feel in my mouth, what he was like in bed, pretty much everything. But now that I might finally get it, I felt more giddy than ever.

Hamzah slowly nodded, “Alright, go ahead.”

I reached down to his jeans, unbuttoning them as he helped me pull them off his legs, followed by his boxers. His member slapped his stomach, and it surprised me just how hard he was solely from eating out.

It was… big to say the least.

I slowly bottomed him out in my mouth, gagging slightly. He groaned, keeping his eyes on me. I bobbed my head, feeling him hit the back of my throat over and over again.

“Fuck, y/n, just like that.”

I continued these motions, occasionally pulling him out of my mouth and leaving small kitten licks on the tip. He was fighting the urge to throw his head back into the sofa, continuing to keep his eyes glued to me. He breathed out shaky praises to me.

“You’re so good at this, fuck. I- I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum in my mouth… please.” I begged, sucking his faster.

He moaned before filling my mouth with his loud. I swallowed it all before taking him out of my mouth, looking up at him shyly.

“Fuck… that was amazing.”

I giggled as we looked at each other for a few moments. It was crazy, the very things I’d been fantasizing about coming true, all because of a podcast episode.

Fuck. A podcast episode.

My eyes darted over to the recording camera, my cheeks flushing. Hamzah was still looking at me, almost in a hypnotic state.

“Hamzah…” I tried to grab his attention, he hummed in response. “The camera…”

His eyes widened as he looked over, coming to the same realization that I had.

“Fuck- sorry.” He got up, pulling his boxers on and walking over to the camera. “I’m deleting all the footage. You can check afterwards if you want. Recording us really wasn’t my intention.”

He was panicking, his fingers fumbling with the cameras buttons.

“Hamzah… relax. It’s okay. You- nevermind.”

Hamzah looks over to me, his eyebrows raised in amusement. “I what?”

“You can keep the recording if you want.” It felt so lewd to say, but I meant it. It was sort of hot, knowing he had that footage of us and could watch it anytime.

He smirked, looking down at the camera and nodding. “Alright… I will.”

I blushed, “Now can we get that food that you promised me?”

Hamzah chuckled, grabbing his phone.

It was strange, a couple of seconds ago we were performing such lewd acts for a camera we’d forgot was recording, and now we were arguing about whether we should get chinese or mexican take out.

#fanfiction #smut #fluff #praise #i love hamzah sm #hamzah headcannons #hamzah x y/n #hamzah #hamzah x reader #hamzahthefantastic #hamzahsmut #martin and hamzah #hamzah smut #slushy noobz #slushie #hamzah is a munch i swear

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freyadragonlord · 5 months

Text

One of my favourite things about the end of The S-Classes That I Raised novel (major spoilers ahead),

is the realisation that the reason why Yoojin and Hyunjae's relationship looks so much like a love story at times is because it actually, honestly is.

Like, we know that sctir is a novel about love since the beginning, that's not surprising. Yoojin's capability for loving monsters (both literal monsters and the human kind) and the power of that love is at the centre of the plot.

But by the time you get to the end, you realise - and the author confirms this themselves in their final Note - that Yoojin's relationship and love for 2 specific people was the true core of the story, and what allows him to save the world in the end:

One is, of course, Yoohyun.

And that love is absolute; you cannot say that it's inevitable, cause we know Yoojin had to make a choice when he was a child between Yoohyun and his parents, and he almost chose his parents, but from the moment he decided to love Yoohyun onward, then it was unconditional and eternal. It's the love of a brother, but also the love of a parent and a caretaker.

And the other person is Sung Hyunjae.

And that love is not unconditional nor inevitable or absolute at all. It's not something that can be taken for granted. We actually see, because of how it ended between them before the regression, and thanks to the White Bird's power of seeing possible futures, that there were so many timelines where Yoojin and Hyunjae would have never come to care about each other fully (tho they are always at least somewhat interested in each other, because their personalities are actually really compatible).

But the White Bird also sees that the only possible future where the world is saved is the one where they love and hold on to each other. And that is how the story goes!

So, just like a romance novel, the necessary end is the one where they both love each other and accept that love. And it's not easy to get there! It's a slow burn.

From meeting to getting to know each other, appreciating each other's skills and intelligence, finding out they have fun together but still not trusting each other, to working on building that trust.

They go from a strong but superficial mutual interest to actually caring about each other as people.

Yoojin has to go through the self-doubt of feeling inferior and fearing that Hyunjae will lose interest in him. Hyunjae has to learn to stop pushing Yoojin away because he doesn't know how to handle having someone he cares about so much, and also someone that cares about him, because nobody in the world (except in part Song Taewon) likes Sung Hyunjae as a person, he is only ever admired from afar.

And in the end, after going through ups and downs and a few "break-up arcs", they make it. They accept their own feelings and each other's feelings.

And that's when Yoojin makes the choice to use the power that the transcendents gave him at the very beginning of the novel, to save Hyunjae. Not the world. Not even Yoohyun! Just Sung Hyunjae!

Yeah, the whole "gather 50 S-Class people", the very thing that gives the novel its title. That is not a power that is used to save the world!! It was meant to, but Yoojin is "selfish", and he will always choose to save the people close to him first.

And being able to love someone so selfishly gives Yoojin the power to save the whole world, too. As a bonus! A reward. Just a side effect.

So yeah. Is it romantic love? No. Canonically, there's almost no romantic love in the whole novel.

But is it a love story?? Yeah. Absolutely it is.

#these are my midnight thoughts #have a lot of feelings for them #870 chapters of “why do they have so many romance tropes lmao”#to realise that it is 100% the whole point of the story #reading the side story now #happy to report hyunjae continues to be hopelessly and shamelessly in love #sctir #sctir spoilers #the s classes that i raised #s classes that i raised #s classes that i raised spoilers #the s ranks that i raised #my s class hunters #jinjae #han yoojin #sung hyunjae

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 11 months

Note

What I was wondering in particular about Percy Jackson is- on paper, it seems like it would have the same sort of seriousness as Animorphs going for it. Heroes die during battles. They fight and kill humans. The overarching conflict is morally grey. But Animorphs somehow *feels* darker, *feels* more real, and I can’t put my finger on why, and I was hoping you had insight.

One word: consequences.

Many words: In Percy Jackson, killing a monster momentarily inconveniences that monster - it'll be back in a few months. In Animorphs, killing a monster means killing a person with friends and family who will now miss that person who is gone forever - oh, and every time you kill a monster, you also kill an innocent prisoner of war.

Percy Jackson has a major plot hinging on Luke betraying his friends for reasons that are sympathetic as well as selfish, but when Luke chooses to die to save his species, it's implied that Luke has earned Elysium. Animorphs has a major plot hinging on David betraying his friends for reasons that are sympathetic as well as selfish, and this leaves his friends with no choice but to trap him in eternal body horror until such time as Rachel is implied to have killed him. It's canon that on death, Animorphs - including Rachel - "dissolve into nothing." Percy has to choose between letting Annabeth die and letting Kronos take Earth, but finds a third way out where no one dies. Marco has to choose between letting his mom die and letting Visser One take Earth - and then murders his mom. The Animorphs are tortured by the assumption they won't live to adulthood; Percy is tortured by the question of how to use immortality responsibly. So on.

#animorphs #percy jackson #violence #percy jackon and the olympians #animorphs meta #i think both types of stories work #you just have to be CONSISTENT about it [side-eyes umbrella academy]

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k9wa · 5 months

Text

𑣲 PREPARED. ft. BLADE

⠀ — he will not be overcome. blade prepared for this day

⠀ OR

⠀ — you’re only human and blade isn’t as ready for your death as he thought.

⚠︎ angst, some gore (?) character death, gn reader, this is kind of old

blade prepared for this day.

he reminded himself of all whom he’d seen fall in his years of existence with every breath he took.

blade prepared for this day.

the stellaron hunter had become well acquainted with his own immortality and the grief that without fail would follow him for all eternity.

blade prepared for this day.

he knew it was best to keep his distance from others, especially from humans. friendships or relationships of any kind were feeble and short-lived for a man like him. if you could even call him a man.

blade prepared for this day.

…so why was he speechless?

why had his breath betrayed him?

why did his legs grow weak, how was he brought to his knees with such ease, skin scraping harshly against the concrete beneath him?

blade prepared for this day… hadn’t he?

well, perhaps he’s slipped up a few times. but he was allowed that much, no?

maybe he shouldn’t have indulged you in so many stories of his travels, or the kinds of people he’d met along the way. but it was only because you were always so eager to hear about them, and the dejected look on your face when he’d say no was irritating.

and sure, he probably could have done without the gentle touches and almost domestic intimacy, but that couldn’t have done too big of a number on him. the emotions blade felt ranged from numb to violent, and had not stretched farther than the between for the last hundred years at least. a kiss to your cheek or your arms wrapped around him from behind couldn’t have really changed that.

no. it couldn’t have.

because blade prepared for this day.

he repeats it in his head like a mantra as he cradles you to his chest, your blood staining his bandaged and scarred hands as it drips to the stone floor. there's a sea of bodies surrounding you, a sign of blade’s inevitable victory alongside your inevitable demise.

all blade could do was watch as the spear pierced through your flesh and bones like they were butter, time almost slowing down as he bolted to your side as fast as he could once he noticed the pointed steel hurling towards you.

he was too late, only arriving in time to catch you as your knees buckled before you could tumble to the ground.

it was clean shot through your heart and left lung, tip of the spear poking out of your chest and staring him menacingly in the eye.

blade prepared for this day.

he knew you would not survive.

humans were fragile. a piercing shot through some vital organs was more than enough to take your life.

he pulled it out as quickly as he realised the tragic truth, hoping to make you more comfortable. he whispers small, rushed apologies into your ear as you cry out from the steel ripping through you again, this time the opposite way.

ren fought to keep his hands steady as he held you tightly against him. he would not panic in your final hours, he would not be an addition to the turmoil of your unfair death.

blade prepared for this day.

he sucks down the urge to scream out and curse the aeons for doing this to him again. he swallows the desire to pierce himself with the very weapon that would take you from him as punishment to himself for thinking this time will be different.

a calloused hand is held to your cheek as your body clings to its life, small choked gasps leaving your lips as if your lungs could even hold the air.

ren rests his forehead against yours, swirls of tangerine and crimson and pale skin shining through your cloudy vision. your efforts to speak are in vain, he just shushes you quietly.

“just look at me.” his voice is quiet, eerily calm and surprisingly comforting.

his thumb rubs small circles on your cheek, he can feel the puddle of blood on his pants growing. you comply, gazing up into his hardened eyes as you swear you see grief shining behind them. perhaps it's just the blood loss.

“you’re okay.” ren’s voice is like silk, despite its natural rasp. he tries to will himself to crack the slightest of smiles for your comfort. he cannot.

blade prepared for this day.

your hand shakily raised up to try and hold his, and all you can do is weakly grab onto his wrist. yet you’re smiling. you turn your head slightly to the left and kiss his palm, and blade does not see fear nor anguish in your eyes. he sees a sea of peace, two lakes of adoration staring back at him.

“you’re okay.” he repeats, lips meeting your forehead softly. “i’ve got you.”

it proves harder and harder to keep his hands steady as your eyes grow heavier, fluttering shut. he pulls you closer to him, squeezing his own eyes shut as if just seeing your face was pushing him over the edge.

blade prepared for this day.

he can feel your breaths shortening, becoming more shallow. he sucks in a breath.

blade prepared for this day.

“i’ll find you.” he wouldn’t. the place your mind and soul would travel to was the only place in the galaxy he traversed across that he could not reach despite his endless and verying attempts. whether the empty pledge is a futile attempt at a comfort to you or him will remain unknown.

blade prepared for this day.

whether the words reached you or not also remains up in the air. ren watches as your chest stops attempting to rise. if you were anyone else, he would be jealous.

blade thought he prepared for this day.

but realistically, nothing could ever truly prepare him again and again for the feeling he knew all too well; loss.

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

#blade honkai star rail #blade x reader #honkai star rail #blade hsr #blade x you #blade honkai #hsr blade #hsr x reader #ren hsr #hsr headcanons #hsr #honkai star rail headcanons #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you

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missterious-figure · 2 months

Text

(Hey guys! Sorry for being so absent lately! It's not cause of anything bad, it's just cause I've been hanging out with friends and family more often with school out of the way! Thank you guys for being so patient!)

You weaved through a large crowd hurriedly as you heard your name being called out after you. It probably wouldn't be to hard to escape, with the flashing lights of the bar making it hard for on lookers to tell one body from another. You ducked lower to try and break out of his field of vision. Who were you hiding from? Why it was Sun, of course. One of the three Celestial peacock brothers.

He was standing tall amidst the many groups of drunk partying patrons. However, he was scanning the room only looking for one person. You. His favorite little handler. The only person who has ever downright tried to avoid him. It always baffled him as to why someone would consciously choose to stay away from him and his magnificence, but he was determined to bless you with his presence regardless.

If he could find you, that is. He was on the outskirts of the crowd of party goers. Unbeknownst to him, you had scurried your way to the bar counter in the middle of the bustling bodies. He would search farther into the groups, if it wasn't for them trying to touch his beautiful tail feathers. No way was he risking getting their grease on his gloriously golden feathers. He walked around the crowd a couple times to see if the could catch a glimpse of you, to no avail.

You were still semi-crouching, keeping your eyes on Sun as he searched in vain. You were pretty confident with your position, that is, until the group parted to give enough room to a member who started break dancing. You froze as you were left in a quite visible opening in the crowd. You stopped breathing as you noticed Sun was staring in your direction. His eyes met yours for what seemed like eternity. A few heartbeats later, he smirked and kept walking as if he hadn't noticed you.

You were puzzled, but taking this opportunity, you dashed to the counter and stood near some people who were sitting at the bar. They were loud and annoying, but made for good cover. You were constantly keeping an eye out for the large golden harpy, unsure if he really hadn't seen you. With every passing minute you felt a little more on edge, as he had disappeared. Maybe he gave up and left the bar? No, that didn't sound like him. Knowing Sun, he would probably wait for the right moment to ambush you when you least expected it...

No sooner than had you finished your thought, your view was blocked by a feathery chest. You squeaked as your back was gently pushed into the counter. He placed his elbows on the counter and held his chin up with his palm. Your eyes found his pale blue ones only inches from your face. You quickly looked away, trying to hide your face from him. His elbows blocked your arms from your sides and effectively made a cage around you. He slowly opened his golden tail feathers with a shake, pretty much insulating you all to himself.

"Now that we have ourselves a "private" place, we can have some time to ourselves."

You were about to protest, but the back of your head was cupped by one of his hands. He nestled your face into the crook of his neck. He grabbed your waist with his free hand and pulled it closer to his body. He loved how fast your little heart pitter-pattered at his touch, and how your skin burned with longing. You were such a poor thing. Clearly your body loved his presence, so he didn't understand why you kept yourself from his majesty.

With your face still crammed into his neck, he closed his eyes and licked the back of your head. He began to slowly groom the hair he could reach from the awkward position you both were in. Your mind was in a daze and you could barely think. You knew lots of birds groomed each other to form stronger bonds, especially between mates. The thought made your cheeks burn hotter than before. However, even despite the embarrassment, there was something so oddly soothing about all this. It felt so good...

With each passing stroke of Sun's tongue, you began to melt into his touch. You closed your eyes and accepted that you were, admittedly, enjoying this. You also knew your fellow employees were never gonna let you live this down if they found out... good. You were too groggy to care anyway. You just wanted to be in the moment.

Here's the picture with out shading.

#dca au #wine and feathers au #digital art #harpy sun #peacock sun #handler y/n

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 11 months

Text

Practice On Me — Part Eight — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Everything is starting to get on top of reader and tensions rise. Azriel takes a trip to Fenlaros and comes away with a headache. Cassian does what Cassian does best. A friendly face swoops in to save the day.

Word count: 8.3k.

Warnings: A little freaky deaky 18+, NSFW, smut, minors dni.

Azriel’s kiss is a burning brand.

It’s fire and ice and earth and rain. It tastes like freshly set snow, and it feels like the refined touch of a steeled warrior.

He kisses you like he aches for you. He pulls his hands away only to remove his gloves and chuck them aside, and then he’s clasping your face once more, skin on skin. He’s always so warm — a part of him you’ve missed.

And a part of him that drives you to kiss him back with barely any hesitation.

This — his mouth on yours — feels like the answer to a riddle you’ve been puzzling out for days, weeks, months, years. You’re gasping for air, and his tongue is sliding between your lips, and his taste overpowers you so thoroughly that you think it could break something inside of you.

There isn’t much furniture left in here. A few scattered tables, a shelf or two hanging off the wall. Not much to work with, and yet it doesn’t matter, because you and Azriel will have each other however you can. You’ve spent a lifetime making do with whatever you’ve got. This is no different.

Azriel’s hands fall down to your hips, and he’s lifting you so abruptly that a yelp leaves you and lands straight on his lips. Your arms loop around his neck, and he’s fastening your legs at his waist and stumbling with you — stumbling towards one of those old tables. A plume of dust erupts around you as he sets you down and slots himself between your legs.

“I fucking miss you.” He groans, grabbing your face. “I miss…us.”

You feel so many things. There’s no chance to sort through them, verbalise them, before his mouth slants over yours again. He’s hungry, needy. Hot and sinful. This Azriel is a far cry from the one who coyly confessed to his inexperience. This Azriel writes poetry onto your lips and paints masterpieces on your tongue. He kisses like eternal happiness depends on it. He kisses as though he’s been an artful lover for centuries.

He’s been practicing, the thought pops into your head.

Not with me, the realisation follows.

And that feels like being thrown stark-naked into the snow. It’s not a nice feeling — to realise that Azriel may be treating you to skill refined elsewhere. Not when you think about kissing him more than you’d like to admit to yourself. Does it make you a gods-damned hypocrite after what you did with Cassian? Perhaps.

But none of this — not one bit of it — is reasonable, or rational, or logical.

All you know is that your stomach lurches suddenly, violently, at the thought of where else Azriel’s lips might have been. And that’s all it takes for you to shove him away.

He stares at you, wide-eyed. Perplexed.

“I needed you.” You pant, the words tumbling from you in a flurry of charged emotion. You’re not sure you planned to say it. “On Solstice — I needed you.”

Azriel’s face changes in the blink of an eye. The hunger is gone, replaced by…something else. “Y/N—”

“I needed you, and you weren’t there. You promised me.”

“I know I did. And I’m sorry—”

“Did you even think of me?” It’s awkward, but you try to scramble back on the table. You just…need that distance right now. “Did you not wonder how I might be doing, how my day might be playing out in that hellish house, before you jumped into bed with Kaeda?”

“We didn’t—”

“Did you think of me?”

“Y/N, of course I thought of you.” He tries to clamp down on your legs, but you’re moving further away, damn near falling off the table in your efforts. “But you — you said you would come and find me. I waited for you—I—”

You’re really not sure if it’s a strangled sob or a choked laugh that fights its way up your throat. Perhaps it’s both. The sound of it is jarring, and it echoes around the armoury and reminds you of where you find yourself right now. The situation you’re in. How different things might be had Kaeda not come onto the scene.

“You waited for me?” You repeat, righting yourself. “And—what? Did you get bored? How do you think it felt, Azriel, when I came to find you — the only person I wanted to fucking be around in that moment — and you were busy with Kaeda on top of you? As if I needed my heart breaking any more that night.”

You hate it — hate it so viscerally that the words won’t stop coming. That you’re bringing your heart into this and allowing it to be stomped on again. Your eyes are watering, and you turn quickly before Az can see.

For a moment, he says and does absolutely nothing. And then he takes a step closer to you.

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when you needed me. Believe me, I am.” He says. There’s another step. Another. He’s hovering at your back and you know he’s wondering whether he should reach out and touch you. “But, Y/N…you encouraged me to pursue things with Kaeda. Am I to apologise for that?”

You blink at his words so abruptly that your tears spill down your cheeks.

Now you’re laughing.

It’s a humourless laugh — a hysterical one. It breaks from you in a series of fractured, incredulous noises. At least the emotion boils your blood so thoroughly that it warms you from the inside.

“Apologise?” You round on Azriel, balling your fists at your sides. “No. You don’t need to fucking apologise. But you also don’t need me to practice on anymore, do you?”

He clamps down on his jaw, a telltale muscle moving. “I didn’t kiss you for that—”

“You kissed me because you miss me. Because I am…I’m just a security blanket, aren’t I? I’m what’s familiar, and you’re used to being around me, and having distance between us has fooled you into thinking that you want to kiss me.”

“No—”

“But you’ll kiss me…and make me feel good..and then the novelty will fucking wear off, and you’ll be running straight back to Kaeda because she is who you’ve wanted all along. Not me. Never me.”

“Cauldron, Y/N, will you just let me speak?!”

No.

You will not.

You can’t.

You can’t do this. You can’t break in front of him. You refuse to.

You want to sound strong, and sure, and unbothered, but you open your mouth, and the words are watery and broken. Weak.

“No.” You swallow a lump down. “No, I won’t. Just…just go, Az. I need some time.”

“We’ve spent the last week apart. That’s plenty of fucking time—”

“Go! Go back to Kaeda. Stop…stop pretending like this could play out any other way. It can’t. It won’t.”

“I’m not leaving on an unresolved fight. You and I don’t do that.”

You are far too beaten down to discuss this any longer. You shrug, and the gesture is an effort in itself. “I’m not sure I know what either of us do or don’t do anymore. Things have changed. Go.”

“Y/N—”

“Go!”

Finally, it seems to dawn on him — the realisation that you’re serious. You won’t be discussing this tonight. You’re not strong enough for that yet.

He falters a moment longer, so clearly not wanting to walk away. The two of you have never been like this. You can fight like the best of friends do, but you’ve always made the effort to resolve things, to not part on a bad word.

But things are different, now. You know it. Az knows it.

“…Fine.” He rasps after a long stint of silence. “I’ll go.”

You nod. If he’s expecting you to suddenly change your mind, he’ll be gravely disappointed.

His eyes sweep you once more, and then he’s turning. Dragging his feet to the door like a kicked animal.

“Az?” You call quietly, and he stops.

The hope in his eyes as he looks over his shoulder almost breaks your resolve. Almost, but not quite. “Yes?”

“Send Cassian next time.”

He doesn’t deign to reply.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Azriel is not well-versed in the world of dinner parties and propriety.

He has a few decent shirts he reserves for special occasions — like when Rhys’s mother cooks a nice meal, and he and the others dress up out of respect.

Y/N would laugh herself hoarse if she could see him right now.

A thought that stings almost as much as the intense, burning gaze of Tathaln Baralas, Lord of Fenlaros.

He’s a mammoth, domineering presence at the head of the dinner table, seeming to command every bite that each person takes of their food, every sip of their wine. It’s silent unless he speaks. It’s tense because he makes it tense.

He watches Azriel as though he’s going to finish his food and then take a bite out of the shadowsinger himself. Az’s shadows are taut around him, not wanting to make a spectacle of their brilliance. The dinner so far has felt like one big, held breath.

But finally, Tathaln clears his throat, and Kaeda and her brothers sit up straight. Az does the same.

“I trust your friends have fared well since your little adventure in my camp.” The Lord addresses Azriel. “I hope the punishment wasn’t too severe. I did many similar things in my youth — though I can’t say I was ever quite so bold as to venture into a rival territory.”

Azriel inclines his head slightly. “I wanted to apologise again — for what happened. Things got out of hand.”

“I’m partly to blame, father, as you know.” Kaeda adds. Azriel damn near jumps out of his seat as her hand lands on his thigh beneath the table. “It was my idea to invite my friends from Windhaven. An oversight, perhaps, on my part. I was eager to show Azriel what Fenlaros has to offer.”

Tathaln seems to think on that as he chews his food. He washes it down with a gulp of wine and reaches for the carafe to refill his glass. The whole thing feels like somewhat of a performance, and nobody speaks a word as it plays out.

This family dynamic is…odd. Not that Azriel has much experience where normal family dynamics are concerned. But there’s a formality with which Kaeda and her brothers — not that the two males have breathed a word this entire meal — address their flesh and blood. Like he is their Lord first, and father second.

And that isn’t unusual for Illyrians — not at all. Offspring are, more often than not, treated like a prospective trophy to be paraded in front of competing families. The fiercer, more ruthless the child is, the prouder the parent will be. It’s a brutal, ugly way of living that never changes, no matter how many generations stack up.

But perhaps Azriel is at fault for having too high an expectation. Perhaps he shouldn’t ever have been fooled by Kaeda’s wings and spirit being left intact, unlike most females around her.

Tathaln is a puppeteer, and Kaeda and her brothers are his dutiful puppets.

“There was no particular harm done.” The Lord eventually says — rather reasonable, for an Illyrian. “I imagine you received a stern talking to. Revoked privileges, perhaps?”

“Lord Devlon saw fit to lecture us, yes.” Azriel concurs with a nod. “But besides that, we weren’t really handed any punishment. It was my friend, Y/N, who bore the brunt of his wrath. She’s been forced into homelessness as a result.”

A sudden, sharp kick lands on Az’s leg from beside him. He glances at Kaeda in his periphery, eyes the fierce expression with which she looks at him. It seems to be communicating, don’t bring this up now.

But Az wants to bring it up. He’s pissed off; more so than he initially thought. At himself, mostly, and at Devlon, at Rhys’s father, maybe even a little at Kaeda — at everyone really.

Tathaln pauses, his fork mid-air. And then he sits back. “Right — the girl that was here. Why has she been made homeless?”

Girl. It’s a sneer of a word in Illyrian mouths. Azriel has to clamp down on his jaw and remind himself that confronting the sexism that runs through their veins is a fruitless task in that moment.

And Kaeda sighs at his side. As if she’d rather be talking in great detail about the roasting of a boar, than about Y/N.

But it answers a question that’s been rattling around in Azriel’s mind all evening — that no, Kaeda had clearly not mentioned Y/N to her father, as she said she would.

“Her father kicked her out on Solstice.” Az explains. “He’s not a good male, to say the least. Y/N was living with myself and my friends, but after the events that unfolded here in Fenlaros, she was sworn off having any contact with us, because Lord Devlon seems to think that she’s the driving force behind any and every bad choice we make. She has nowhere else to go. It’s…worrying.”

“Perhaps she’ll think twice before wandering into rival camps.” Finally, one of Kaeda’s brothers speaks. Arlen, Azriel thinks his name is. Clearly the idiot doesn’t see the irony of his statement.

Or perhaps Kaeda doesn’t have to adhere to the rules that every other female is strictly held under.

“Arlen.” The Lord shoots him a warning glance. He turns back to Azriel. “I would argue that Lord Devlon is full of shit.”

Azriel stops. Blinks. That…that’s not what he was expecting.

“How so, father?” Kaeda’s brow furrows.

“It’s his job to keep the soldiers under his command in line, no?” Tathaln’s dark, feline eyes are assessing Azriel as he speaks — seeming to read his response. “If he finds that a single female is the cause of such disruption, perhaps it is himself he should look at. He can’t be a great leader if he has to resort to such extremes just to keep his soldiers under control, now, can he?”

Az stares back at him. The question is meant for him, but it all seems too…too easy. Reason and logic are simply not a common thing among these people. The words sound almost…false. Forced.

“No.” Azriel agrees. “I suppose not.”

“Do you find him to be an adequate leader?”

“I’ve never known any different.”

Tathaln’s mouth tips up. “That isn’t what I asked.”

No, it isn’t. But this is a fine line Azriel is treading. He positively despises Lord Devlon — thinks him an arrogant brute who uses his title to flout camp laws and customs and turn everything in his favour. Not to mention the fact that he and his cronies are so clearly threatened by Az, Rhys and Cass — an undoubtedly formidable trio. Azriel is sure that if Devlon had his way, the three of them would be slung out by their necks. Or hung by them.

But his personal feelings towards the Lord of Windhaven doesn’t change the fact that openly disrespecting him — and to the lord of another camp — is a huge dishonour. One that could blow up in Azriel’s face if this conversation were to somehow make its way back to Devlon. He has to choose his words carefully.

“He has a method of leadership that I can’t say I’m in agreement with.” Gods, he is the epitome and personification of diplomacy, if he does say so himself. Ten points to the shadowsinger. “I’m not sure that using his power to target vulnerable females was ever part of his job description. I’m sure, as a father to a female of the same age, you can see where I’m coming from.”

Tathaln takes another pensive sip of his wine. He inclines his head. “Indeed, I do. I think it’s terrible leadership. And I think you’re wasted in Windhaven.”

“I appreciate that, my lord.”

“There is no need for modesty, Azriel, the shadowsinger.” As he speaks, the Lord’s eyes inch towards those very shadows. He studies them with a strange expression that looks almost like…hunger. “Do you know why I sent my Kaeda to your camp? I may as well admit, I have an agenda.”

Azriel glances at Kaeda. She’s staring at her plate, shoulders squared. “Oh?”

“I sent her there to scope out the quality of the units that are being trained in the Windhaven Camp. My sons were sent on similar missions to other camps — Camp Theriel, Camp Steelshore, Camp Aruin. The consensus of what was reported back to me regarding each camp was that potential is not being filled. Quite frankly, a mockery is being made of Illyrians by the poor training of these legions. If war was waged tomorrow, half of our race could be wiped out.”

Bold, bold words.

Azriel finds himself stunned silent.

“We are Illyrians, no?” A thick, callused finger traces the rim of Tathaln’s chalice. “We are a warrior race. We have birthed some of the fiercest warriors in Prythian’s history and decimated tens of thousands across battlefields. And yet, it would seem, these days, that our camps are producing fewer warriors, and far more lazy, unambitious brutes who care only about drinking and fighting and fucking. Our reputation could be destroyed yet.”

This is…bizarre, Az thinks.

He also thinks that it’s a little unfair. He’s the last person to ever defend the creatures around him that are supposedly his brethren, but he also thinks that Tathaln’s assessment is wildly exaggerated.

Illyrians drink, yes, and fight, yes, and fuck, yes. But they do so in between harsh, gruelling training. They drink to forget the brutal nature of their life’s work. They fight each other because they’re just as angry as one another, and that needs an outlet. They seek pleasure, because it’s one of the few good things to be found in these parts.

Their training is not for the faint of heart. You train well, or you die. It’s that simple.

And if Tathaln, Lord of Fenlaros, truly has such concerns, Azriel doesn’t understand why the fuck they’re being presented to him, of all people.

“Is this something you’ve raised with the High Lord?” He asks — he isn’t sure he even means to say it.

Kaeda tenses beside him, and Az wonders if, perhaps, he’s overstepped the mark. But Tathaln seems somewhat pleased by the question — seems pleased that Azriel is engaged in the discussion.

“It is.” The male answers. “And I think he finds himself agreeable to what I’ve had to say. However, I haven’t yet presented my solution — what I believe to be the right course of action.”

Az takes the bait. “Which is what?”

“Eventually,” Tathaln says, “I would do away with the individual camps entirely. I would have one, sole camp to train Illyrian warriors, overseen by the most powerful members of our race. Members with rare, unique powers who can draw on the Illyrian potential and make our people what we were always supposed to be. What we once were, before we became too complacent. Better, even.”

And just like that, it makes sense that Tathaln is sharing such things with Az.

Rare, unique powers. Powers like that of a shadowsinger. So incredibly unique that Azriel has never met another of his kind.

Tathaln has ambition — he covets power. He has a vision that needs backing.

It’s like everything suddenly clicks into place in Azriel’s mind.

He finds himself looking at Kaeda, not her father. Finds himself wondering if she ever had genuine interest in him, or if that interest came entirely from Tathaln. Finally, she lifts her gaze to his, and she wears a strange, pleading look.

“Don’t get me wrong, shadowsinger.” Tathaln says. “This is not a goal that could be achieved overnight. Power takes time to build. I couldn’t take this idea to the High Lord without something to back it up — something to get him on side.”

Azriel shrugs. “But what would you have me do? I’m just a soldier in training—”

“You are a shadowsinger. Do you even realise what an asset that makes you? Perhaps your poor start in life, your mistreatment, has caused you to downplay your potential. But I see it. Your power could be a lethal weapon on a battlefield. And off a battlefield. There is so much you could be doing, and yet Lord Devlon has you landing punches on a sparring dummy and calls it training? You are made for better things than that.”

Praise is…it’s a rare thing, in Azriel’s world. And he doesn’t care about that, because the little praise he does get comes from the people who matter, and that’s all he needs.

But hearing somebody other than his close friends — his family — speak so highly of him, is…new. And he’d be lying if he claimed not to like it.

Still, Tathaln is clearly beating around the proverbial. Azriel almost doesn’t want the discussion to go any further, because his head is already full to the brim with swimming thoughts and close to exploding. But they’ve come this far already; he may as well learn what his role in this bigger agenda would be.

“What is it you want from me, my Lord?” He asks.

A small smile plays on Tathaln’s mouth. His eyes, yet again, are on Azriel’s shadows, rather than Az himself. “As I said, change cannot be made overnight. It would take years — generations, perhaps. I would need enough males — strong males — backing my cause, before the High Lord would even hear of it. But I am a patient male. I know what I want, what is right for Illyria, and I will do everything in my power to make it happen. Starting with strengthening my camp. Being known as the strongest of all camps. And strengthening my influence, too.”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

“Having your power on my side could be a good thing for me. And I could hone you. I believe this mission starts with you. Abandon Windhaven and take up residence in Fenlaros. Train under my command. Come and see exactly how wasted you are in that place. Come and see what we could build together.”

“You want me to be your pet?” Azriel raises an eyebrow. “Your project?”

“I want to hone your potential and show you what an asset you are. I want Illyrians to be a feared people once more. I want to build the strongest, most powerful army in all of Prythian and make Illyria what it was always supposed to be.”

In the wake of the impassioned speech, silence sweeps in. Azriel is staring at his plate, and he thinks he might be feeling cold all over. There’s a strange tingling at the back of his neck — like a warning sign.

He still doesn’t understand why he’d be integral to such an agenda. He’s a shadowsinger, yes, and that is not to be downplayed, but he’s just Azriel. He’s just an Illyrian who trains to fight, and fights to kill, and to one day be killed. That is simply how it is.

And Windhaven — ugly and cold and harrowing as it is — is his home. His family is there. A cottage that is far too small and cramped to house a group of adults but is always a beacon of light and hope and warmth. A place in which he’s made wonderful memories and felt genuine happiness. He’s happy to tolerate the hellish ways of life around him, because he has beautiful things in front of him.

Beautiful things that wouldn’t follow him to Fenlaros. Yes, he may have broken a rule and breached a camp to attend a party — but doing so under casual circumstances is wildly different to doing so under official ones. As a soldier of Fenlaros — as one of Tathaln’s puppets — he would be expected to adhere to the strict rules and standards that he metes out. Fenlaros would be his territory, and there would be no blurring of those lines.

But could Tathaln really be seeing more potential in Azriel than had ever been noticed before? Could it truly be that Fenlaros has more to offer him? More to be done for him?

“I would be turning my back on everything I know.” Az says, the mere words tasting sour in his mouth. “My loved ones. The family I’ve built. They would be left behind. I’m not under any illusion that you’d allow our two camps to interact if I came here.”

Tathaln dips his chin. “I am not going to sugarcoat that. It would be an adjustment, and a painful one at first. But there is far more for you here, shadowsinger. I simply ask that you consider it. Just as I believe your two brothers would consider it, if I were to present the offer to them.”

“And why haven’t you? Presented it to them? Why me?”

Those dark, calculating eyes swallow him up. “I need a shadowsinger. It starts with you.”

Azriel isn’t even sure what that means, and he doesn’t want to think about it any longer. There’s a lump in his throat. His appetite is well and truly gone. He might even be sick.

He couldn’t possibly leave his family. The thought makes him violently ill.

“As I said, all I ask is for your consideration.” Tathaln watches him. And then his eyes slide to his daughter. “As this meal is clearly over, perhaps Kaeda should show you around Fenlaros. Show you what this place might have to offer. Give the shadowsinger a tour, my sweet.”

Kaeda smiles broadly. “Yes, father.”

Az wants to refuse, but he can’t find the words. Too much is going on in his head. He wants to get out of there and go straight back to Windhaven, where it’s familiar and where love waits for him. He doesn’t want to be a component in a greater agenda.

When he met Kaeda, it was simply about…exploring attraction. About experiencing. Not about this.

But he can’t fucking speak. He stands without telling his body to stand.

And for some reason, when Kaeda slides her hand into his, murmurs a soft “come, Azriel”, he doesn’t protest.

Numb and stunned and sick to his stomach he may be. But he follows.

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Azriel isn’t sure if he’s heard a single word that has left Kaeda’s mouth.

She speaks, and yet it’s simply background noise. He can’t hear around the screeching in his head.

He should really just take to the skies and fly home, but perhaps he’s already a puppet — his feet stay on Fenlaros turf. Kaeda guides him around the camp as though the conversation at dinner never happened. She shows him her favourite haunts and introduces him to people whose names he forgets instantly.

It's up on a viewpoint overlooking the camp, just he and Kaeda alone, that he finally releases a slow, weary breath. He folds his arms against the railing and welcomes the cold air biting into his skin. Kaeda stands just a short distance away.

“We call this area the Widow’s Watch.” She says, daring a step closer. “It’s said that centuries ago, at the end of battle, the camp wives would gather up here with firelit torches and await their husbands’ return. If their husband returned, they’d extinguish the torch. Those that were left burning signified who did not return from war.”

Azriel says nothing; isn’t sure he’s capable. He digs his fingers into his arm.

Eventually, Kaeda stops at his side, also bracing her arms on the railing. She looks out over the camp wistfully, as though she can see hordes of wounded soldiers returning home. “I can’t imagine how eerie that sight must have been — the beacons of the dead painting the sky with fire.”

“No,” the agreement leaves the shadowsinger unexpectedly — surprises even him. “Neither can I.”

It’s then that Kaeda angles herself towards him just slightly. He meets her gaze. She’s so very beautiful — the kind of female that artists beg to paint. Her cheekbones are high and defined, her lips full. Her eyes look like shards of glimmering green rock. Never is there a hair out of place. Never a stray lash or smudged rouge. She is, quite simply, a vision.

But Az finds himself wondering if he’s ever known any part of her, or if she’s just following orders.

“I know you must have questions.” She eyes him cautiously.

“So many that my brain can’t keep up.” He takes a small step away. “Have you ever been genuinely interested in me?”

“I have.”

“Your father literally sent you to cozy up to me.”

Her eyes shutter, thick lashes fanning against her skin. “It wasn’t like that, Azriel. I mean — it was, to some degree. You’re right that my father sent me, and that he already had his sights set on you. I work for him. I’m training as his spymaster.” She opens those eyes again — wide. “Yes, he told me to get to know you. But he didn’t say romantically. That was all me. I just…like you.”

Gods, it should feel good, feel like a positive thing, to hear that. To know that the beautiful female he’s been getting to know these past months has genuine interest in him.

But he feels…nothing. No sense of relief. Only the anger that’s still simmering at this entire thing being orchestrated by her father.

“Does it not bother you?” His tone is brusque, sharp, as he stares Kaeda down. “That your father has you do his bidding? You’re a pawn in a game.”

“My father has a vision. It is an honour to serve him, and to be a contributor to that vision eventually coming to fruition. I will not apologise for that.”

“A vision. To create…to create one fucking super camp that he is to oversee? It sounds to me like your father has a hunger for power. Things have worked this way in Illyria for millennia. Why should they be changed now?”

Kaeda shakes her head. “You’re wrong. Things aren’t working. That’s just the problem.”

“You—”

“Are you proud to be an Illyrian, Azriel?” She steps closer to him; perhaps too close. “I’m not. Not with how things are right now. But I want to be. We are a warrior race. We are supposed to train, and fight, and protect. We’re supposed to be formidable. We’re supposed to be feared. But with the way things are going, fewer and fewer of those things are remaining true. If we don’t change how things are run across these camps and light a fire under our soldiers’ asses, half of our people could be wiped out when the next war comes. The Illyrian race could cease to exist entirely, and our legacy will be left at the mercy of rhyme and tale. We can’t allow that to be the case.”

Azriel studies her.

Her passion is…intense, yes, but also strangely beautiful. There’s a ferocity in her eyes that is so rare among a people who live and breathe misery; whose lot in life is to die.

That doesn’t mean, of course, that he appreciates Tathaln’s scheming, nor Kaeda’s. But they’re not exactly wrong in that ambition is a rare commodity these days. Those who can train for the Illyrian army do so because it’s what is expected of them. Those who aren’t cut out for it make do with everyday jobs around camp. Nobody has pride or passion. Nobody is prepared for war.

So Azriel’s shoulders relax just a little, even though his scepticism remains very much present. “I still don’t understand why I am being scouted for this cause, though. Why not take it to the High Lord? Or why not get Rhysand on side?”

Kaeda shakes her head. “As my father explained, we simply don’t have enough backing to go to the High Lord about this idea — not yet. He knows of my father’s opinion and even agrees that things need to change, but such a complex idea requires careful handling. And conspiring with his son about it would surely not put us in his favour.”

“So…what? I’m the next best thing?”

“After Rhysand, you’re the most powerful, yes. Your influence could aid us greatly. I don’t think you realise how highly coveted you are. Every other camp is aware of the fact that Windhaven has a shadowsinger. And they’re equally aware that your abilities aren’t being put to their full potential under Lord Devlon’s command. Changes will be made whether you accept my father’s offer or not, Azriel. But the changes we’re proposing are the best ones. The right ones.”

“I don’t see what’s right about having to leave my friends — my brothers—”

“Gods, Azriel, just…just take the emotion out of this for five seconds and listen to me.”

Az’s jaw clenches. “I am listening.”

“Then hear me clearly. Change is coming. It’s inevitable. And one thing I can tell you with absolute certainty is that even if you weren’t to come to Fenlaros, you would still be separated from your friends, or your brothers, or whatever you call them.” She hovers close enough to touch, now, mere inches from him. “One thing I’ve picked up on in Windhaven is that Lord Devlon is very intimidated by the strength of you, Cassian and Rhysand being together. The older you get, the more powerful you’re becoming, and people are growing aware of that. Devlon intends to separate the three of you, and by any means necessary. He can’t risk the threat you pose to him. He’ll tear you apart.”

The information doesn’t surprise Az one bit. He’s sensed a growing panic amongst Devlon and his cronies. They don’t stand a chance against the future High Lord and his two closest friends. And Azriel doesn’t doubt that if physical separation didn’t work, the callous bastards would resort to something far, far worse. Or try, at least.

But still, none of this is making any fucking sense to him. He needs a stiff drink. Or twenty. “How would coming to Fenlaros solve that in any way?”

“Beating Devlon at his own game — separating yourself from your brothers — will lure him into a false sense of security. With you gone, it’ll be one less problem to worry about. He’ll let his guard down. Meanwhile, we’ll be building our influence here and forming a case that can be taken to the High Lord. With his support of our changes, we’ll have the power to do more. And then eventually…eventually, your brothers can join you here. When we have more ground to work on. My father would never begrudge the bond the three of you have. He’d see it as a positive…having three such powerful Illyrians under his command.”

Too much to think about. Way, way too much. Azriel just wants to get out of there. He wants to lie down in a dark room and pretend nothing and no one exists.

But he stares at Kaeda. And he asks, “And what of Y/N? Could she come here, too?”

There’s a very slight hesitance — small, but certainly there. But then she purses her lips, and she shrugs. “Whatever you want.”

He’s not sure she means it. And that…that’s a whole other rabbit hole he’s not sure he can face going down right now. Another situation entirely.

Before he can say anything else, Kaeda closes the gap between them. She cups his face and leans up, close enough that their mouths are almost touching.

“Just think about it. That’s all I ask.” She says. “I really do like you, Azriel. And I really do think we could have something. Think of what we could do here, together. Of what we could be. We could make history. Just…promise me you’ll think about it.”

His lips part with a response he hasn’t even thought of. But there’s no chance to speak it as Kaeda slants her mouth over his and kisses him slowly, softly. Deeply.

Her fingers sink into the strands of his hair, and she breathes a muted hum into his mouth. She tastes like peppermint and sugar, and she kisses as though she hasn’t just laid the weight of the world on Azriel’s shoulders.

And that weight might be why he’s stiff as a board, barely reacting. Or it might be the horrible feeling of dread that this is all wrong. He kissed another female, earlier today — and that kiss had felt like burning, eternal sunshine.

This one feels like…like a ploy.

“Just promise me.” She pulls away just enough to whisper. “Promise me you’ll think about it.”

There’s no way he can’t think about it. The seeds have been sown. And perhaps he feels a little slither of guilt for how rigid and cold he currently is, because he doesn’t shoot her plea down like he should.

He sucks in a slow breath and inclines his head.

“Okay.” He says. “I’ll think about it.”

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The fucking wall is Azriel’s fucking face.

At least, that’s what the fuck you tell yourself as you send a dagger hurtling at it and watch it bury its point into the surface. Another scuff mark to add to the growing smattering, all courtesy of you.

Fuck. Him.

You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so angry in your life, and Cauldron knows, you’ve had ample reason to. But this anger is…it’s consuming. It’s violent and jagged and nauseating. It’s claws sinking into your heart and your brain and dissecting everything that plagues you in both sleep and consciousness.

And it’s this severe because you care. You care so very much.

You’re sick of caring.

Why would he kiss you, after all that has happened since the last time? To taunt you? To grab your feelings in his fist and twist them? To practice on you?

And to think you almost gave in to that strange, carnal need to have his hands on you again. You cannot — will not — allow yourself to think about which deeper emotion or desire that need is rooted in. Thinking will lead only to realisations that may destroy you yet.

And he’s probably with Kaeda right now, too. Perhaps losing himself in her, forgetting all about you with the aid of her touch—

You scowl and march to the wall, yanking your dagger out. Your anger and your need to just…move, is keeping you warm, at least. Nighttime in the old armoury is about as pitiful as can be imagined, but the relentless cold is actually a strange…relief. It hurts in a satisfying way.

How fucking dare he, your mind chants, not for the first time, as you stalk back to your spot. How dare he treat you as though you’re nothing? You brace yourself and send the dagger hurtling towards the wall once again—

The door is suddenly bursting open, and the weapon only just misses Cassian’s face on its journey as he strides in, arms full of items you don’t care to look at.

He stops abruptly. Blinks. “Did you just throw a dagger at me?”

“No.” You immediately scowl, stalking over to retrieve it yet again. “Fuck you.”

“Ouch. Fuck you right back. I brought blankets and food.”

“Shove them up your ass.”

“I’d really rather not.” He kicks the door shut behind him and strides over to the pile of your scant belongings, dropping his items and freeing his arms. He turns back to you with raised eyebrows. “Is there a particular reason you’re acting like a little storm cloud, or is it just a way to pass the time?”

Finally, you sheath your blade — partly because you’re not sure you trust yourself with it right now. You face your friend, fully aware that you’re out of line and fully resentful of the fact.

“I had an argument with Az.” You admit, not even certain you mean to.

Cassian’s eyebrows raise. “Well, that explains why he nearly bit my head off earlier, too. What did you fight about?”

Do you tell him? Do you confess all your complicated, messed up feelings — the bizarre circumstances that brought them about — when you haven’t even sorted through them yourself? No. You can’t. It’s a bit too soon for that.

“It was…nothing.” You stalk over to your things. “Just nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing—”

“Thank you for bringing me these.” You toe a thick blanket with your boot.

Yet again, Cassian’s eyebrows go up. “Are you hinting at me to leave?”

“Just because I have to face the night in this hovel, doesn’t mean you should be subjected to the same fate. I wouldn’t expect that of you.”

“Well, fucking expect it, because I’m staying—”

“Cass—”

“Come here.” He opens his arms. “Right now.”

You stare at him. And in that instant, with him seeing you — seeing everything you are, everything you’re feeling, what you need — your anger simmers, and it threatens to turn into tears.

“You clearly need a hug.” He points out softly. “And I’ve missed you this past week. So come here.”

In an instant, you crumble. You’re stepping forward and damn near falling into Cassian’s arms. He catches you, just like he always catches you.

His arms band around you, warmer and more secure than any blanket. He pulls you tightly against him, and you allow your arms to snake around his waist. It’s only then that you realise how much you need the firmness of his body to hold you up. He’s like a huge, supporting wall that stops you sinking to your knees.

“I’m so sad.” You whisper, nestling your face into his chest. His scent and his warmth permeate his clothes, and they combine and wash over you in a soothing combination.

“I know.” His broad hand cups the back of your head. “Everything is a huge mess right now. But we’re going to get through it — together.”

You hate that you can’t believe him; not right now. Everything is too up in the air, too uncertain. A dark mass has followed you around this camp for the entirety of your life, and it’s closer than ever to closing in and snuffing out who you are.

“How can you be so sure?” You ask. “I don’t think I have the strength to fight anymore, Cass.”

He pulls back to study you. To cup your face and look into your eyes. “Yes.” He says firmly. “You do. You always have and you always will. There is nothing — nothing — you can’t face. I truly believe that, Y/N.”

Staring back at him feels just like…like the night in the cottage, when you lost yourself in him. Him being there for you, speaking the words that are so hard to believe and yet so what you need to hear. The same urge arises in you to give over to those feelings. Do something for yourself for once.

You think Cassian might read that thought on your face. Perhaps you wear it shamelessly.

He studies you closely — studies you hard. And his throat bobs as his eyes flit down to your lips.

“Y/N.” He says. “Let me make you feel good.”

You swallow, also. And you don’t need to think about it. “Yes.” You nod. “Yes.”

In a flash, he’s closing the gap between you, his mouth finding yours. The hot and heavy weight of his lips is a relief. One that makes you release a soft sigh.

You don’t let yourself think about the fact that you were kissing Azriel in this very building only earlier. Nor about the fact that it could have gone much further than that. Cassian gives you himself, and you take, your hands bunching in his jacket as you haul him against you.

His hand fists in your hair, tilting your face up to him. And as his mouth stains yours with his urgent need, he’s backing you up, walking you back and back until you collide with that very table that Az kissed you on earlier. Cassian picks you up in an easy sweep and places you on the tabletop. He parts your legs and slots himself in between, his mouth never once leaving yours, never once faltering.

Until he parts from you and says, “Lie back.”

With his hand guiding you down, you do just that. You sprawl out on that table, anticipation coiling in your stomach. It warms you from the inside, makes your skin too hot and your clothes too heavy.

Cassian doesn’t mess around with teasing or taunting. He drags his hands over your breasts, your stomach, and down to the laces at your breeches. You don’t care about the cold air. You lift your hips and wish only for him to undo those laces faster. You want your skin bare, and his touch marking it.

“I didn’t get to taste you last time.” Your friend pants, pressing a kiss to your abdomen. “Will you let me now?”

Goosebumps erupt over you skin. You grip onto the edges of the table and breathe, desperately. “Yes. Please.”

So boldly, he yanks your breeches and undergarments down in one go. His fingers find the very centre of you, already soaked, already ready for him. What he finds there makes him groan.

“Here? You’ll let me taste you here?”

“Please.” You pant again. “Just…please, Cass. I need this.”

“I know.” A kiss lands on your skin. “I know.”

His hands drag down your legs at the same time he sinks to his knees. You bow your head forward — just to watch the predatory grace with which he aligns his face with your sex. He licks his lips like you’ve presented him with his most carnal desire.

He inhales slowly — breathes in your scent. A growl rips from his throat.

And then he dives right in.

His tongue licks a stripe up your centre, from your entrance, up to your clit. Your hips buck at the contact, one hand moving to bunch within his hair. As his tongue swirls over your clit, pleasure barrels through you that ends in a cry.

“Your taste is fucking divine.” Cass groans, and his hands pry your legs further apart. He wastes no time in lapping at your juices, damn near fucking drinking you down. He drinks and drinks like a male parched. “Gods, Y/N.”

“More.” You gasp, thrusting your hips towards him. You grind your cunt against his face, and you can’t stop your body jerking, your head lolling back. “Gods, Cass, more.”

“More?” His teeth graze against the sensitive nub. “Tell me what you need.”

“Your mouth. Fingers. You.”

A delicious, sinful chuckle, so incredibly deep and lilting, breaks from Cass and vibrates against you. He lands a harsh suck on your clit. “I love how filthy you are.”

And he shows you how much he loves it, as one finger suddenly gathers up your wetness and teases your entrance. You moan, plead, beg him to slip it into you. He does so at the same time that he fastens his lips to your clit and strokes at it with his tongue.

You feel him smile against you. Your responses seem to provide him with almost as much pleasure as your touch would.

“Just like that.” He growls the words onto you, sliding his finger out and back in — adds a second one. “Take what you need. Fuck my fingers.”

You need this pleasure. This release. He has no idea how much you need it. Nobody does. You need to feel like somebody else, feel like you’re somewhere else. You need to feel something other than…blinding pain.

And so you take what you fucking need, undulating your hips and moving yourself on his fingers, against his tongue. Cassian follows your lead, keeps up with your pace. As your moans pick up, so do the thrusts of his hand.

“Going to come for me?” His hand moves faster. “Come around my fingers?”

“Yes.” You throw your head back. “Fuck—Cass.”

“Come.” He growls. “Want to feel you.”

It’s as if your body is fully under his command, because the words have your climax bursting through your body and chasing you from every negative feeling that’s been plaguing you. It feels beautifully catastrophic, fucking mind-altering. It feels like an out of body experience.

You know, somewhere in your mind, that you’re being loud, but you don’t give a single damn. You welcome your orgasm and allow it to consume you. You allow your loud, gasping noises to echo around the building.

But perhaps it’s the loud volume of those noises that prevents both you and Cass from hearing the door open behind you. Perhaps it’s the heat of your passion that makes you immune to the sudden gust of cold air.

Whatever it is, neither of you notice a third presence until a voice bellows behind you.

“Cauldron fucking boil me, my eyes!”

Both you and Cass rise with a start, you scrambling to cover yourself. A horrified expression stares back at you both.

“Roza.” You both say at the same time. Both blink in shock, too.

Rhysand’s mother covers her eyes with her hand and turns her back to you.

“Please correct yourselves before you traumatise me any more.” She says. “Can’t turn my back on you idiots for five gods-damn minutes.”

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