#I wondered if the beloved knew. I wondered if he cared. I wondered if the heliobi felt anything at all for their husband;

[fragmentedblade]

The story in the longetivity pill of cruelty, and Wenyuan's words when being offered to take it wow

[fatuismooches]

cor meum, manus tuas.

synopsis: After your illness strikes again, Dottore decides to gift you a failed experi-, a new companion in order to soothe your injured heart.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: A cute fluff fic where Dottie gives you Foxttore and the pufflings as a pet (the blue monster creature from Nahida's fairy tale.) He loves you a lot. Really just pure fluff and Foxttore getting on Dottore's nerves. Enjoy!

For as long as Il Dottore had known you, you had always been one to suggest things that he had no interest in. It was a habit of yours, and sometimes he’s not sure if you’re being genuine about it or if you simply want to rile him up, as you usually do.

One such example was back in the Akademiya when the two of you finally successfully reversed-engineered one of those machines after a painstaking amount of work. It was arduous and tiring, but immensely rewarding. Oh, he had so many ideas and things to do now, but you- you had other plans.

“So, now that we’ve got it under our control, I think we should program it to have some new tricks.” Zandik had paused at your words, as for once that was a good idea. He wondered what the limit of such a killing machine could possibly be.

“Go on.”

“Alright, imagine this, it’s about to swoop in and land the finishing blow, but instead, a whole bunch of confetti pops out and-”

“No.”

“You can’t even pick up a sword properly. You know nothing about fighting like I do! Just hear me out, it’ll be a great distraction because they’d never be expecting that, and boom, that’s where the real attack comes in.”

“No.” (Later on, he found out that you’d programmed the thing to have a single flower shoot out, just for him. He swiftly removed it after you were done laughing.) 

Or when you had begged and pleaded with him to let you teach him how to cook, just once. It was no secret you were always the one on cooking duty during the Akademiya, for he had a severe lack of skill for it. Furthermore, Zandik had no interest in it, not having the time or patience for something just meant as sustenance. You, however, were insistent on at least teaching him the basics, for it was no way for a student to live (according to you.)

The slicing and dicing went well enough, but the moment you turned your back for a few moments, he had somehow set the smoke detector off, and the Akademiya’s dorm director gave you two a good scolding. You learned your lesson after this particular incident, but from your giggles, he knew you didn’t feel an ounce of regret.

Your antics were truly something he wouldn’t get used to. And now, over four hundred years later, your teasing nature had remained the same, only that it became more verbal as you didn’t have the strength to pull off your elaborate plans anymore.

Which is why lately you had been clinging to him with pleading eyes and a jutted lip, vehemently asking for a pet despite his numerous rejections, going so far as to try and recruit other segments (who, unfortunately for you, did not join your cause.)

“Please honey, my darling, my beloved, my-”

“My answer is not going to change, [Name]. I will not tolerate anything running around and causing a mess.”

“Aww, but come on. I know you love cats. I know you secretly pet them when no one’s looking. I know that-”

“That’s enough from you. Now, will you sit or should I strap you down instead?”

That line of conversation persisted for a while until you mostly gave up, only throwing the idea in from time to time with a hmph. But now, he was uncharacteristically wondering if there could be a solution to this problem. 

Lately, you had been confined to your bed and room, too physically weak to move around much. He and the segments had done their best, as they always do, to take care of you, but one did not need to be a genius to know that you were feeling down. Not only because of the aches your body gave you, but also because you were lonely for most of the day, seeing as his other selves were usually too busy to spend an adequate amount of time with you. Once again, despite his lack of care for the emotions and feelings of others, he could see straight through your feigned expressions of nonchalance.

Dottore hated it when you pretended around him.

He could raise the topic but it would probably make matters worse. Instead, it was much more logical to work toward a solution for the issue - the solution being a companion to keep a smile on your face, and your mind at ease. Now, an actual pet probably would be a hassle to maintain in the lab, knowing the kind of activities that were… well, unsafe to say the least, so he put that possible solution to the side for now.

Initially, he sought to create something mechanical, having seen the mechanical animals from Fontaine. Of course, his creation would be far superior, and it would be quite helpful with your condition and all. But upon further thinking, knowing your tastes… you’d probably prefer something softer, considering how much you liked to cuddle him and your plushies. 

It was a conundrum the scholar found himself in, making his darling lover happy was not something that could be so easily scientifically concocted like the rest of the conclusions he reached. It required much more than simply following the lines of reason. Perhaps that’s why Dottore often struggled with it. 

Yet he did not have the luxury of time to continue pondering, for he did not want to leave you by yourself for much longer. And so he continued to sit at his desk, his hands automatically filling out paperwork while his mind was focused elsewhere, still thinking about what he could possibly gift you. Something warm and cuddly with the ability to communicate with you to some extent…

That was when he remembered something he created long, long ago.

The memories of that creation came back to him rather quickly once he remembered. Dottore remembered every experiment he’d done, but some were just not very special or successful and lingered very little in his mind. This was one of those unnoteworthy results. It was no secret that he was known to… play around with the concept of life, ignoring the rules that guarded it so strictly… and it was this idea that led to the birth of a creature, one that certainly did not belong to this world.

It was a monstrous, furry black thing that hid its true self with some kind of suit, its lone eye bright and red. It hadn’t been the first time his experiments led him to the unknown, but this… was just something he didn’t care about at all. After a few tests on the creature, he lost interest rather quickly. It was the farthest thing away from the life Dottore wanted to toy with. In fact, he had planned to dispose of the thing, but the creature seemed to understand his words more than he anticipated. It quickly scurried away, creating chaos and knocking down almost everything it could, skillfully making its escape.

Dottore had contemplated searching for his odd creation but decided that it wasn’t worth the time or energy. Judging from the distaste it held for him, it probably wouldn’t come around anyway. So, it could exist in the far depths of the lab for all he cared. It wasn’t like this was the first time he threw things into the back and forgot about them. Now, he was rather pleased that he didn’t get rid of his experiment. He had known you for long enough that he was sure you’d find such a thing cute, for some reason. It checked the fluffy and easily holdable boxes too. His only question was whether it could be alive after all these years… well, it was certainly worth a shot, seeing as his solutions were limited.

The answer to Dottore’s question was a yes. It had unfortunately taken much longer than he’d liked to search the dusty rooms (although admittedly, he had gotten a bit distracted with reviewing the old things he dumped) but at long last, he had found the round creature peacefully dozing without a care in… some kind of bed it had crafted with a bunch of papers and black fur. It looked perfectly content… in all honesty, Dottore was a bit interested in what it had been up to all this time. Maybe it held more scientific value than he thought… 

Regardless, in one swift motion, Dottore grabbed the creature by the scruff of its neck and it immediately awoke, attempting to scramble away. Once its single eye laid on the man who so rudely interrupted its sleep, it blinked, before multiplying its strength to escape, even trying to scratch him, but to no avail. The Harbinger’s grip was far too strong, of course. Meanwhile, Dottore had already lost a bit of patience from the creature’s incessant movements.

“Stop that,” he demanded sharply, and the critter instantly went still as its eye continued to stare at him completely widened. Dottore smiled, which felt rather eerie and frightening to the oversized creature.

“What, did you think I came all the way here to finish the job? Oh no, if I wanted to, I would have done so already a long time ago. Instead, I have another use for you. Something that will benefit both of us. I’m sure you’ll agree,” he hummed as he turned to leave the room. But as he took a single step, he found himself stepping on something soft. Curiously lifting his foot, he looked down to see a small, black, round ball of fluff staring at him with a red eye identical to the creature he held in his hand. And then another came into view.

… And another. Soon at least over a dozen had popped out of the shadows, all watching at him with anticipating eyes. He had forgotten these balls of black fur were also a byproduct of creating the creature. Now quite a few had surrounded his feet and were hopping up and down, attempting to climb his pants, which he quickly shook off with a scowl. Well, it looked like these things were going to follow him regardless of what he said…

“If you all are going to follow me, be prepared to make yourself useful,” he sighed in exasperation before finally leaving, stepping on a few more in the process. (The usefulness in question, was making sure you’d be left with a smile.) Based on the odd squeaking noises the smaller creatures made, they seemed to be on board with the idea. 

—

When your husband suddenly presented you with a gift contained in a rather large box, you were a bit surprised. Not because you were receiving a gift, but because of the size of it. Normally, he would give you small trinkets and such, things he’d thought you’d like (that had no real purpose to him, retrieved solely for you. Yes, he was very cute unintentionally. You had a little shelf for his stuff.) But you had no clue what he could have possibly gotten for you that warranted the need for such a big container…

You had long discarded your book in favor of new entertainment (you were reading the same sentences over and over anyway), your hands gliding over the rough material. Dottore was looking at you expectantly, having barely said anything besides shoving the thing on your bed, with a simple “for you.” You couldn’t help but chuckle, your chest getting a bit lighter from the previously stuffy atmosphere dissipating.

“Are you going to explain yourself or leave me guessing as to what I’ve done to receive such a thing?”

“You have been lonely and tired, and I seek to alleviate your pain. Yet there are certain things I cannot always do, which is why I found a solution,” he stated simply, pushing the box closer to you as if it was no big deal. Your eyes widened as your jaw hung, speechless, before you sent a small, teasing smile to your husband.

“I… well, who knew you could be such a considerate man? Keep that up and you’ll make me blush.” You couldn’t help but heat up a bit from his concern, although he didn’t say it outright. And you didn’t really have it in you to deny his words too, he was right after all, you have been lonely and tired from being cooped up in your room all day.

“Still, I want a hint! Ah, it’s too heavy for me to even lift up…” You couldn’t guess what could be in here. “Could it be the latest new novels from Inazuma?”

“No, but those are on the way. It’s something more-” At that moment, the box slightly shifted and you blinked in surprise.

“Oh, oh! Are these new models of Beta’s miniature Ruin Machines? Did he finally make the Ruin Sentinels series?” In truth, initially, the segment wasn’t interested in creating such pointless machines, but after you oh so innocently challenged him to make them movable and fit in the palm of your hand, he took the bait and presented them to you smugly. Needless to say, you very much liked your little collection of action figures, and you were hoping he had finally made ones that could fly.

“No, it’s-” Once again, he was interrupted by even more dramatic shuffling, thumping echoing loudly from inside the box which made you scoot back a bit.

“Dottore, you sure whatever’s in here isn’t going to attack me…?” Your voice was more lighthearted than worried, but now you were squinting at him a bit suspiciously. Dottore’s expression remained unaffected, but inside he was the slightest bit annoyed. He had told those damn things not to move around. Thankfully, a sharp slap to the cover of the box caused the movements to cease, and he only smiled at you once again.

“As I was saying, it’s something you have been asking about for a long time.” He watched as your face turned thoughtful, fingers drumming when suddenly it became very obvious as to what it was. 

“Is it… is it what I think it is?” He found your expression rather amusing as he witnessed your eyes becoming sparkly with joy.

“Go ahead,” Dottore motioned and you wasted no time pulling the cover off the box, your eyes meeting a furry, blue creature whose lone eye gazed up at you curiously. You blinked at it, and it blinked back at you, but you had no time to say anything before some other unknown creatures began pouring out the box and spilling onto your bed, some crawling on your lap. This was certainly not the average pet you had expected… but you were not complaining. These things were the cutest - not to mention the little strand of hair on the top.

“Dottore,” you giggled at the fluff tickling your skin, “what exactly are these- oh!” Your words were interrupted when the larger creature suddenly jumped out of the box and launched itself into you, pawing your chest. You reciprocated the attention in delight, giving it numerous head pats and taking a closer look at it. Most of its soft fur seemed to be blue, although its head was black, and its beak was harder than the rest of its body. Regardless, it was completely adorable, and it seemed to like you very much.

“It is something I created in my lab during one of my experiments. I figured it would be something you’d enjoy.” You lit up, and the scholar couldn’t help but appreciate how you seemed to glow.

“You made these little guys for me? Oh, I always knew you could be such a romantic! I have my husband, my son, and now a cute pet. Isn’t it nice to see our family grow, Zandik?” He remained silent at your hastily made conclusion, deciding that the little white lie wouldn’t hurt, especially not when you looked this happy. After all, he imagined your response to him keeping this creature in the backrooms of his laboratory for ages wouldn’t be very well received, considering how attached you were to it already. Thankfully, you didn’t notice the glare the creature sent him either.

“Do they have names yet?” Dottore thought back to the string of numbers and letters attached to this experiment and opted not to disclose that, shaking his head. You hummed, trying to think of what name to bestow upon your new pets until you quickly came up with something good.

“Foxttore,” you stated firmly.

“Foxttore?” He repeated a few seconds after you, rather unimpressed.

“Yes! Because he looks like a fox, and he also kind of looks like you!” You playfully squished the creature’s cheeks.

“I bear no resemblance to that creature,” he frowned, immediately refuting your statement.

“Don’t look like that,” you teased. “It’s a compliment. You’re both cuties that are the same shade of blue,” you leaned in to kiss him gently, a simple way to silence him despite his vexation. “Now as for these little ones…” you thought once more as the black puff balls clung to your arm, Dottorelings… no, that’s too long… how about pufflings? Yes, that will do nicely!” Seemingly understanding your words, the pufflings began jumping up and down in glee. You then moved closer to the man and enveloped him in a hug.

“Thank you for this, Zandik. I am very happy,” you whispered quietly as you snuggled into his neck. It was the truth - you really were happy to have some company constantly around. Your husband returned the hug and you loved how his strong arms felt around you.

“Of course. But if they happen to cause you any… trouble,” he sent a look to the thing now called “Foxttore”, “be sure to tell me.”

“Aww, don’t say that. Foxttore is a good boy! Right?” You smiled brightly at your new pet, who was kneading the blanket, watching the two of you. The contrast between its creator’s less-than-pleasant face and your wide grin was stark and rather easy to choose from. It then hopped up and practically wedged itself in between the two of you, looking up to you with a pleading eye, desperate for attention. You squealed with delight and pressed the creature to your cheek, nuzzling against it.

When Dottore noticed the cheeky look his creation sent him, he wondered if this was actually a good idea.

—

Foxttore and the pufflings were the best and cutest companions you could ever ask for.

The pufflings were always scattered about your room, resting in different locations. You honestly had no clue how many there were, nor could you tell them apart, but you swore they squeezed through the bottom of your door somehow because sometimes they’d return with random items. They seemed pretty starved for attention… they even liked it when you squished them like a stress ball.

Foxttore was equally as cuddly, but also rather intelligent. He would fetch you items so you didn’t need to get up, and he could even turn a doorknob… you were fascinated. One of your favorite things to do was give him a note for him to deliver to a segment, and he would actually deliver it. (Said note usually contained you begging a segment to visit you, otherwise you’d die without their attention.)

After a lot of cuddling and rubbing, you found out that Foxttore was just a severely oversized puffling with four legs instead. That blue fur of his wasn’t even his, just a suit he wore. It was quite funny to see him without it on. It seemed rather shy without its fox fur, but with enough kisses, hugs, and reassurance, it had no problem lounging around without it.

You read them stories, showed them everything your room had to offer, placed some of Beta’s cute pink bows on them, bathed with them - you were starting to look forward to the day much more now that you could wake up to them.

—

While Dottore knew that you would get attached to the little monstrosities he gifted you, perhaps he didn’t anticipate it to reach this degree. Even after you had gotten well enough to stroll around the lab again, the blasted things were attached to your hip the whole time.

Visiting the segments? They would come up to you, caressing and teasing you with their deliciously infuriating small touches and kisses, and then all of a sudden a small crash would sound throughout the room, the culprit being Foxttore.

Visiting him? He’d have you on his lap, about to pin you to his desk, when he noticed the pufflings watching him from all corners of the room. It was maddening trying to chase them away, but then you’d get pouty about how the creatures didn’t like to be alone. (The only segment that the creature seemed to like was Zandy, although it had taken a while - a bit of scolding from you, and many offerings of food from the child to Foxttore had done the trick.)

As much as Dottore was glad your mood had improved greatly, admittedly, it would please him if he could just chuck his creations out into the Snezhnayan snow, just to finally get some alone time with you. But you loved them too much, so he resolved to resort to other means… eventually.

Over time, your pets gradually began to not hog your attention the whole time, but you were very insistent on helping Dottore and them become friends. It wasn’t very easy, however, they seemed to have some tension between them. You weren’t really sure why, but you still loved having them together.

—

“Dottore! Oh Dottore, you have to watch this,” you puffed out your chest proudly as Foxttore trotted behind you. Your husband looked at you questioningly before you spread your arms out, directing them toward the creature.

“I taught Foxttore tricks! Watch this! Foxttore, sit!” Your pet obediently sat down, his tail wagging (although you had no clue how that worked since it was just a suit…)

“Foxttore, spin around!”

“Foxttore, roll over!”

“Now high-five me!” Dottore watched in amusement as the blue creature followed your commands with ease. Perhaps it really was smarter than he thought. Regardless, all he cared about was that you were occupied with something, rather than being by yourself.

“Okay, now fetch Dottore’s secret stash of sweets!” At that, Foxttore began making its way over to one of the numerous bookshelves in Dottore’s office before the Harbinger quickly realized what you said, and stopped the creature in its tracks.

“I knew there were too many pieces missing,” he stared at you humorlessly, while you sweated nervously.

“W-What? You said I was allowed to take some!”

“I said you, not this… thing,” the man then picked up Foxttore by its strands of blue hair, which the creature fought at, and dropped it in your arms like it was some pest. “I’m moving it.” 

“Please don’t! I won’t do it again!”

—

The continued pampering of Foxttore had, unfortunately for your lovers, become a norm to see around the lab. He was a spoiled lil shit, in other words, who could do no wrong in your eyes… which is why every new thing you did had little to no effect on them anymore besides an eye twitch of annoyance and a promise to bully the creature later. The current situation was one such time. Dottore had come into your room only to see many abnormally small clothes scattered on your bed, with you in the center of it all.

“Oh Dottie, you’re just in time! Look at what I got!” You then held up Foxttore in all his glory, his new hoodie substantially thinner with different patterns, a great big smile on your face.

… It was only you who had the privilege of using his time like this.

“Now before you ask how I got these, I had them custom-made! See, I wanted to sew the clothes myself, but my hands have been too shaky lately and then you’d get all grumpy if I hurt myself with the needle, so I just asked Columbina to find someone for me and she did! She’s a great friend!” You continued to ramble on. 

“See, the poor thing gets too hot sometimes, especially when he starts running on our walks,” you said sadly, while he wondered how exactly you walked this monstrosity, “that’s why I got him different clothes! And they’re stylish too! Look, he’s even got pajamas! Don’t you think it’s cute?” You looked at him, your eyes sparkling and glittering with light that dazzled him.

In all honesty, Dottore didn’t really care about the little abomination of a creature. In fact, he probably leaned more into disdain for it. But what he did care about was you, and what made you happy, what put a smile on your face since he hated for it to be missing.

“I believe your definition of cute is rather unusual.”

“Huh? How could you not think Foxttore is the cutest thing ever? Oh… I see your game. You think I’m the cutest thing ever, don’t you?” You boldly teased him which didn’t phase him, only making a confident smirk grow on his face.

“I suppose that would be accurate, yes. Nothing else comes to mind that could be compared to your beauty,” he said smoothly, plucking the creature from your hands and dropping it elsewhere, which it clearly disliked, but he was more interested in your reaction. Your mouth slightly ajar, heat creeping up your face with a flustered expression, breathing speeding up a bit.

“A-As long as you’re aware,” you mumbled shyly, turning your face away, although your slight smile was apparent.

Needless to say, Zandik was always aware of his beloved.

—

You always loved it when you were able to leave the lab. Sometimes they were frequent outings, sometimes they were very rare. It all depended on how well you had been feeling lately. Today, you had finally been able to go out for a short walk with Dottore after so long. The cold air and snow had you shivering, but feeling the wind hit your cheeks was worth it. (And being able to cling to your husband was a definite plus in your books.) But you were still happy to come back home.

… Especially when you were greeted by your little friend.

As soon as you walked through the door, you noticed that Foxttore was impatiently waiting by the entrance. The moment he saw you, he sped toward you at light speed and pawed at your legs for pets, hopping up and down. You couldn’t help but laugh as you bent down to give him some attention which he happily reciprocated, but then he pulled away and started wildly running around the two of you.

“Aww, Foxttore is having zoomies!”

“… Pardon?”

“He’s having zoomies!” You smiled at your husband before crouching down, and your pet immediately ran into your arms and settled himself there as you picked him up. “Aww, you must have missed us so much, didn’t you?” You cooed as you rubbed his tummy, while Dottore merely stared at you blankly. The man then noticed the creature’s eye had narrowed into a half circle directed toward him as if to mock him. 

If there was a point system between the two of them as to who was able to steal your attention more, Dottore would sorely be losing.

—

It was one of the few nights where you were able to spend a night like most couples do at the end of the day - resting in the same bed with your lover. You weren’t even sure how you managed to do it this time. You thought it was probably due to your persistence but also that he was genuinely tired. (Well, he had been genuinely tired for ages now, but you were able to get him on a weak day, perhaps.)

You had always loved it when Dottore held you, even if it was slack or just one arm, you always felt safe. Protected. Warm. Happy. The feelings only amplified when both his arms caged you into his chest, which was the perfect place for you to snuggle. (Still, he’d never admit to being the little spoon from when he was a student.)

“Hey, Zandik?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for everything you’ve done lately, by the way.”

“Of course,” his answer was as simple as could be. He stroked your hair languidly, always one to brush off your thank yous.

“I mean it,” you wiggled out of his grip to look him in the eye, lip jutting out slightly.

“I already know you do. You do not need to keep saying it every time.” You pouted at his response. How else were you supposed to show your appreciation? You then grabbed his arm, which was surprisingly pliable, and placed his hand over your heart.

“Then let me know if you need anything from me. Anything at all. I have to pay you back eventually, you know.” Dottore looked as if he was enjoying himself.

“What do you propose? I’ll listen to your suggestions.”

“Well… I have kisses and cuddles as my expertise. I can cook and bake for you sometimes too… oh, but I can also try doing some of your paperwork! …What? You’re not impressed? I guess I can try to do some more… unsavory tasks as well. The Fatui agents listen to what I have to say quite easily,” you continued to chatter as Dottore’s fingers made their way from your cheek to your neck and then your collarbone, making you stammer at the sensation. “Hey, you’re not even taking me seriously, are you?” Your husband only chuckled at your furrowed eyebrows and grumbling.

If anything, he would want you to repay him by letting him see the faces you’ll make once you’re finally free of your illness.

“Anyway…” you squeezed his hand with yours that still rested on your chest, “You probably know this already, with that ever-calculating mind of yours, but you hold my heart in your hands. I’ll always be here with you.” It was a funny thing to think about, giving your heart to someone like him, in both a physical and intangible sense. Trusting him with your frail body, trusting him with your love, knowing he could squeeze it to a pulp if he wanted to. But he wouldn’t.

He would treat your heart with the utmost care and precaution, not daring to risk even the slightest harm to it.

Dottore stared at you for a few moments while you held his gaze, resolute on making your point known. Wordlessly, he began to move closer to your soft lips, intent on making his response to your statement physical. He was so close, his nose brushing against yours, and your warm breath on his. He was about to finally satiate his desire when-

Something was scratching at the door. Loudly, too. The sudden noise made you jump back and turn your gaze to the door. The Harbinger had a bad feeling about this.

“Did you hear that?”

“No.”

��You’re just lying now!” With a huff, you pushed the blankets off, much to his displeasure, and made your way to the door, opening it. There was Foxttore, making strange noises that he tried his best to mask as cries.

The bliss Dottore felt a few moments ago had turned to immense annoyance immediately.

“Oh, you poor baby! Did you have a nightmare or something?” You exclaimed before quickly scooping Foxttore into your arms and bringing him onto the bed. “It’s okay, you’re with us now…” You softly murmured, stroking it gently as you let it settle on your chest. Where Dottore’s hands should be right now, cupping your soft skin instead of that damned creature.

Dottore swore he was going to throw that thing out once you were asleep.

[rhysazriel]

Smoke & Light: Part 3 [Plug!Az]

SUMMARY: A run in with the cops is another reminder of the horrors Azriel faced through his childhood. Maybe one day he'll open up about it, but not today. Today, he's solely focussed on helping you out of a bad trip. (8.2k)

WARNINGS: swearing, reoccurring themes of use of recreational drugs (weed), greening out, teasing, flirting, kissing, dirty talk, use of toys hehe, slapping/spanking, spitting, dom!Az, mentions of Az's abusive childhood.

A/N: firstly, I want to massively apologise for not updating this in sooo long. Life has been busy and I've been reading so much lately that writing slipped my mind. To make up for it, there is some filthy smut in this chapter and I am hoping to be a bit more consistent with the next updates. Thank you for being so patient and I hope you enjoy!!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

When Azriel was a young boy, he dreamt of becoming a guitarist. It didn’t matter to him then if he was famous or not. Just so long as he was good enough to be able to replicate famous rifts with his own spin, and create his own music, too. 

For his fifth birthday, his mother bought him a children’s guitar, complete with the plastic pics and a leather strap with his initials etched into the fine fabric. He knew, even at that age, that the gift had cost his mother a small fortune. But she didn’t care how much it set her back. The look of pure shock and excitement on her boy's face was worth every single penny she spent. 

He could still remember the untold amounts of sleep he would forfeit to learn a new chord or finally string more than three together at once. By seven years old, he could recreate the first half of Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd—albeit choppy and slightly out of time—and memorise the chords by heart. 

His half-brothers had never liked that about Azriel. His talent and passion for music and the guitar. Even at the ages of five and four, they did not like Azriel. More often than not, they’d plant broken vases and stained cushions for their parents to find, and blame them on Azriel. They knew their father would take away his guitar for a few days to a week as punishment. 

But even then, a week wasn’t long enough. Their hatred for Azriel stemmed long before his love for guitar had grown. From the moment his half-brothers learned how to talk, Az was on the daggered end of their spiteful tongue and manipulative masterminds. As young as he was, Azriel wasn’t blind to the cause of it. He wasn’t blind to his step-father’s hatred for him, that he then instilled in his own blood sons. 

Being what they called a ‘blood traitor’ would always be their main justification for what they did. Azriel had never admitted to anyone the second reason his brothers set his hands alight. But the other thought behind it—the more vicious and calculated thought—was to burn not just his hands, but his dreams, too. 

For months after the incident, Azriel’s hands remained bandaged. He could hardly use them for everyday tasks like dressing and washing and eating. And when they had finally healed enough for the bandages to be permanently removed, he couldn’t play his beloved guitar. 

The strings were too harsh on his sensitive skin. It hurt so much just pressing down on the chords on the neck, let alone pinching the pic for longer than thirty seconds at a time. Azriel had to learn how to play all over again, covered in blisters and burnt flesh. And then his marred skin began to harden and callous and every strum was more painful than before. 

He often wondered if this would still be his life path had the burning never happened. If he would have still met Rhys and Cass, if he would still be selling drugs. He knew he wouldn’t be this well-off financially, but at what cost? What did all of this money mean when it was just him? When he wouldn’t be able to fulfil his biggest dream in life? 

He mostly thought about it all in times like this, when he was spontaneously pulled over by the cops for what they called a “random stop and search”, though they had never given a plausible cause for it. And today would be no different. 

“You stalking me again, Reynolds?” Az asked in a rugged tone as he exhaled the smoke from his cigarette. 

Officer Reynolds, one of the few officers that continuously pulled Az over and searched his vehicle, leaned against the open window with his arms crossed. His blue eyes gleamed with hope of catching something on him this time, though Az knew Reynolds would walk away with another few grey hairs to add to his collection. 

Reynolds was a strange looking man. Not in his features, but in the glint of his eyes and the disturbing tug of his lips whenever he offered a grim smile. He radiated nothing but offsetting energy, one that stunk of noncy behaviour and less than ethical tendencies. 

His iced eyes darted quickly across Azriel’s lap and the passenger's seat, coming up short and settling his gaze on the man again. 

“Random stop and search, nothing personal.” He grinned that awful smile but Azriel paid no mind to it. “Step out of the car, licence and registration.” Azriel was already reaching into the glovebox for his paperwork before Reynolds could even speak. 

He handed them over, opening the door as the officer stepped away, and stood with his hands on the hood of his Mustang. Azriel knew the drill. He’d been patted down and had his car searched more times than he could count in the past six months alone. 

And each and every time, Reynolds always came up short. 

“Got any weapons in the vehicle?” 

Azriel rolled his eyes, looking over his shoulder as Reynolds began to pat down his stomach and thighs. “Do I look like the type that needs a weapon?” 

A dry chuckle slipped from the officers lips as he patted harder down Azriel’s calves and ankles before turning to his full—albeit short—height. “What about narcotics? Any drugs that I should be aware of?” 

Az grunted with another roll of his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Officer Reynolds didn’t offer a response. Instead, he bent his body into the driver's side of the Mustang and began stifling through every nook and cranny that his swollen hands could reach. 

Azriel’s foot tapped impatiently as he waited and waited for the search to end. They wouldn’t find a damn thing, especially because of the new addition Azriel had recently added to his modded car. 

But that knowledge of the secret compartment didn’t stop his muscles from tensing just slightly when Reynolds wrapped his puffed fingers around the foot mat and peeled it up. 

Azriel’s stash was well hidden; wrapped and locked in an extended box beneath his footwell that managed to also keep the scent out. He knew it was a matter of time before they started bringing a K9 with them on their searches, so Azriel had to be prepared for that well in advance. 

Especially with how strong the new strain smelt. 

With a huff, Reynolds haphazardly threw the foot mat back down and struggled to clamber out of the car. And just like Azriel suspected, he came up short. 

Reynolds handed him back his paperwork and rested his hands back on his belt, fingers itching for his baton to give Az a taste of the frustration he caused him. Azriel didn’t so much as bat an eye at it. He knew Reynolds wouldn’t touch him. Not if he wanted to keep both his stumpy legs in use. 

“You know, this is getting pretty old. How do I go about filing a harassment charge?” 

Reynolds scoffed. “Good luck with that.”

//

If there was one thing Az liked about having his brothers home, it was the lack of talking his mind did. There was no silence for his brain and thoughts to gang up on him, to have him question every thought and decision he’d ever made. 

Music and guitar usually helped to quiet those demons—the shadows that he had no control over—but the frustration from his earlier encounter with Reynolds had the desire for playing at the bottom of his list. 

Instead, he settled for Nesta’s demand to braid her hair. She knew him better than she let the others know. Since they first met years ago, he became the brother she never had, that she never knew she needed. She was quick to learn his quirks and mannerisms; what they meant and how he felt. 

And he learnt the same for her. 

“You’re doing it too loose,” Nesta huffed, picking at her nails from her seat on the carpet between Azriel’s parted thighs. He huffed, flexing his fingers and undoing the braid. 

“Last time you told me it was too tight and it gave you a migraine,” he retorted back with an exasperated huff.

They argued like real siblings, too. 

“Just do it a little looser than last time.”

Azriel split her hair into three sections once more and slowly started to braid, overlapping the sections and tugging a bit tighter than his previous attempt. Nesta hummed in approval.

They didn’t pay much mind to the others. Rhys and Feyre were cuddled on the loveseat opposite them, Cassian on their left with a bulky pair of headphones on his head as he smashed the buttons of the gaming remote beneath his fingers. 

He was growing frustrated that he was losing, but it didn’t help that his hands were so massive that the pad of his thumb was big enough to press all the buttons at once. 

“Hey, Az… there’s this girl I know…” Azriel’s grunt cut Feyre off before she could say anything else. He tied Nesta’s braid and tapped her shoulders, signally he was done. 

“Not this again, Fey,” he groaned. 

A sheepish smile sat on her full lips, a gentle tint of pink blushing the apples of her cheeks. “I really think you guys would get along, though. She’s super laid back and so gorgeous.” 

Nesta moved from between Az’s thighs on the ground and clambered back onto the sofa, reaching for her tumbler of gin and tonic. Azriel was used to this, to Feyre trying to set him up. Each time, he’d always shut her advances down, but that never stopped her.

Feyre considered it a challenge, and she wouldn’t stop until Azriel agreed to go on a date. Just once, and she’d back off. She was fairly confident that one date would be all it would take for Azriel to fall for her mysterious friend. 

“I don’t need to be set up,” he spoke, finality in his tone. 

Rhys cocked a brow at how quickly Az dismissed his girlfriend but said nothing. He knew Feyre could get a bit too much with it sometimes, but Rhys himself still had hopes that maybe one day, Az would bite the bullet and just agree. 

But Azriel had no plans to do that. He didn't want to be set up on a blind date, and he most certainly did not need nor want his friends involving themselves in his love life—or lack thereof. It wasn’t that he struggled with girls, Mother, no. Not once in his life did Azriel ever have a shortage of pussy.

If he wanted it, he would get it. On his own. Without his brother's girlfriend’s self-involvement. 

His phone chimed from his back pocket, and not bothering another glance at Feyre, Azriel retrieved it to read over the message. 

You: you weren’t kidding. This shit is strongggg x

His heart rate quickened as he read the text again and again. Azriel hadn’t heard from for three days—since that kiss—and now he was reminiscing on the taste of your mouth on his. 

Azriel: I did warn you

You: maybe next time you could write a reminder on my baggie?

A grin stretched across the expanse of his lips, eyes glittering at how quickly you responded. The act didn’t go unmissed by Nesta, who grinned against her staw and wiggled her toes against the side of Azriel’s thigh. She knew that face—that look. 

“Azzy doesn’t want to get set up because he already has a crush on someone.” 

All eyes snapped to Azriel and Nesta at her words, eyes so wide they almost bulged from their heads. They all knew Az was a ladies man, that although he kept his sex life private, he was well endowed in that aspect. But what they had never really seen was Azriel with a crush. 

With someone who was more than a booty call or a fling.

Az narrowed his eyes at Nesta, a hard expression removing his previous smile. The phone in his hand began to vibrate and a quick glance at it had your number filling the screen through an incoming call. 

His heart stammered. 

“I don’t have a crush. It’s just a client.” He stood from the couch, his scarred thumb hovering over the answer button. 

Nesta grinned maniacally, taking another sip of her gin. “A lady client?” Azriel’s response was a pillow launched at Nesta’s face before leaving his family and shutting himself away in his bedroom. 

Az took a deep breath then swiped his screen to accept the call. “Hey,” he greeted, bringing the phone to his ear. “You doing okay?” 

There was a pregnant pause for a moment before your airy laugh breathed down the line and Azriel’s throat began to close up at the sound. “I think I’ve greened out a little,” you giggled, almost painfully. “Everything is spinning and heavy and when I close my eyes, I get seasick… is that normal?” 

Az pursed his lips, biting back his own smile. The fact that you’d managed to text full sentences and then call him suggested you hadn’t greened out too badly. And by the light self-deprecating laugh at your own situation, he knew you weren’t falling in too deep of a hole. 

“It should pass soon, it shouldn't get worse than how you feel now. Where are you?” 

“I’m at home so I’m okay. I just didn’t know what was the best thing to help.” 

Azriel shouldn’t have let your words affect him the way they did. They shouldn’t have warmed his heart and sent it soaring in his chest. But in your slightly vulnerable predicament, out of everyone that smoked in your life and would understand, it was him that you called for advice. 

Not your friends, not your ex. Him. 

“Honestly? Food and water.”

Another pause of silence had Azriel thinking a bit too much again. If you were calling him for advice, this was likely your first time greening out, and he wondered if you’d even be able to handle making yourself food alone. 

After a moment of consideration, he spoke again. “Want me to stop by?” 

Azriel could hear your soft breath through the call. “Isn’t that crossing a line?” you asked in a gentle voice. 

He frowned, brows pinched. “What line?” 

“I’m your client, you’re my plug,” you reminded him, and something about it sent a sour taste to the back of his throat. 

“You’re my friend,” he offered. 

He wondered if you considered that or not, and by the pause of silence once more, he got his answer. 

“I am?” The soft tone of your question hurt him more than it should’ve. It shouldn’t have hurt him at all. 

“Am I not yours?” 

You were considering it, though. In your book, he was definitely your friend. He’d comforted you just a few nights ago after the fiasco with your sister's secret wedding, had bought you food and then… He’d kissed you. Or had you kissed him? 

You supposed he was your friend, but you didn’t think you meant anything more to him than being just another client. Clearly, you were wrong. 

“Yeah… I guess you are.” 

The corners of Azriel's lips tugged upward slightly. “Great, so send me your address and I’ll stop by with some food.”

Perhaps you should’ve told him no, that it truly wasn’t necessary and you could just pick at a couple of leftover cookies you’d baked yesterday. But you didn’t. You wanted to see him again, wondered so desperately if that kiss had meant anything at all… if it would happen again. 

“I have a spare set of keys in a security lock outside. The code is 4369, let yourself in.” 

// 

You didn’t know how much time you had to try and sort yourself out before Azriel would arrive. But as hard as you tried, every time you raised your head you were met with an onslaught of nausea and dizziness. 

You spent around five minutes attempting to regulate your breathing to rid those feelings, but your body remained stomach down on the couch with your face squished against a pillow. 

If you could stomach the feeling of your eyes being closed for longer than five seconds at a time, you probably could’ve fallen asleep. But alas, the sound of a key entering the lock of your front door had your eyes widening a little further and heart stammering against your ribs. 

“Knock, knock.” Azriel’s voice dripped with honey as he spoke into the expanse of your open plan living-kitchen area. 

Though you couldn’t see him from your position, you could hear the faint rusting of a takeout bag in his hand as he closed the door quietly and kicked off his shoes at the door. 

You didn’t need to call out to him for Az to see you. Sprawled on the sofa, just off to his left, he grinned comically, ignoring the unfamiliar swell in his chest. His feet padded closer to the couch, settling the food on the coffee table and the smell of hot, fried chicken wafted through your senses. 

Azriel helping you sit up and handing you the same meal you ordered the last time you saw one another was a bit of a blur. But the second the food hit your tongue and your tastebuds exploded in delight, the nausea slowly dwindled from your senses. 

“You are my saviour,” you moaned around the food, eyes fluttering closed and none the wiser to Azriel’s growing blush. 

Sat in comfortable silence, Azriel didn’t want you to focus on anything other than feeling yourself again. Within a few minutes, you’d both finished your food and your face didn’t seem so sunken and pasty. 

Now, you looked wonderfully blitzed, skin a little brighter than before and a sparkling sheen to your bloodshot eyes. Yeah, you were out of the woods, your body warm and relaxed. 

“You feeling okay?” he finally managed to ask, shoving the last fry between his lips as you nodded at his question. 

“I feel perfectly baked now.” 

A laugh spluttered from his lips at your words as he wiped his scarred hands clean on a paper napkin. For the first time in the past twenty minutes, Az allowed his eyes to gaze across the expanse of your rather cosy living room. 

Soft, golden lighting that warmed the room, plants of varying shapes and colours tucked into every corner and crevice available. Mismatched furniture and draping vines. 

It was cute, all of it. Very you. The wall facing the couch was hidden beneath tall bookcases that were filled to the brim with every type of book he could imagine. Even with squinted eyes, he could make out a few familiar authors amongst your shelves. 

“Have you read all of those?” He threw his gaze to you, wonder and slight adoration in his eyes, though you were sure you imagined the latter. 

“Mhm,” you hummed around your drink. “Some more times than I can remember.” 

You watched him stand from the couch, his tall frame approaching your collection. He was dressed in black again – his simple jeans and sweater combo – and his hair was perfectly tousled and swept down his forehead. 

Eyes on him, his finger traced the spines of your beloved possessions, settling on one in particular that made your breath still in your chest. Azriel gently pulled it off the shelf, hazel eyes examining the near-pristine cover. 

“Careful,” your soft voice warned him. “It’s worth three grand.” 

Azriel’s eyes almost bulged from his head as he turned to you with the most bewildered expression you’d ever seen. It took every ounce of control not to burst into laughter. 

“What?”

“It’s 134 years old. I restored it the best I could. You should’ve seen it when I found it.” 

Azriel’s brows pulled into a confused frown. “Restored it?” 

“Yeah, that’s what I do for work.” 

When his frown didn’t ease, you cleared your throat to continue. “I work between an auction and a museum in the city. I find the old books and restore them, then sell them through the auction, or they go to the museum.” 

His once furrowed brows raised, his eyes darting back to the book in his hand as if he was inspecting the eighth wonder of the world. Azriel finally turned back to you with a smile that borderlined a smirk. 

“That’s actually pretty cool.” 

A satisfied yet sheepish smile found its way to your lips, cheeks warming under the intensity of his gaze. Azriel slid the book back onto the shelf and continued his observations. 

If you were being honest, it was a little too intimate for your liking. No one in your life had ever taken such interest in your books, not your friends or past lovers. It wasn’t like your love for books was much of a secret, but no one had taken the time to get to know them. 

To know your books was to know you. 

You shouldn’t have been surprised that Azriel was the person to do so. In the short time you’d known him, you realised he was full of surprises.

“What about you?” Your voice greeted his ears softly as you cleaned up the trash from your food. Azriel casted barely a look over his shoulder, eyes caught on your limited edition fantasy book set. A part of you begged to take Azriel’s attention off them. “What do you do for work?” 

That seemed to earn his full attention, causing him to turn to face you fully. With an amused smirk, he followed you a few feet into the open kitchen. “You know what I do for work.” 

Ah. 

“You don’t have anything…legal…to keep on the books?” 

He tried to hide his amusement at your words, but to no avail. Azriel’s smirk only grew and he found himself wondering if his answer might make you think differently of him. 

“If you wanna talk…legalities…then I’m an investor in the stock market.” 

It was your turn to hold the raised eyebrows – a look that Azriel was quick to mirror. “What?” He asked. “You don’t think I could work in stocks?” 

“Do you?” You pressed. 

Azriel’s grin widened slightly. “I do. And I’ll have you know that I’m very good at it.” 

You didn’t want nor need to know any more. You weren’t about to outright ask how much money he had, and if he told you out of his own desire, you were certain it would only make you feel like pure shit. 

Your apartment and belongings weren’t much but they were yours. Everything you had, you worked for. You could do without knowing how many thousands he had sitting pretty in his bank. 

Azriel noticed that distant look in your eyes and took a seat at your island. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable. And if he was being perfectly honest, it was appallingly refreshing to speak with a woman about his side-hustle without them swooning or prying for more details. 

And it appeared that it was only now that either of you were realising how different things were the last time you saw one another. When your lips pressed against his and he kissed you back with just as much want and vigour. 

As if remembering that searing moment, your face and chest began to warm. You were quick to turn away from him, needing a moment to compose yourself and the tight feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

You tried desperately to ignore the ache between your thighs at the memory, instead opting to focus your attention on the half empty box of cookies on the counter. Flipping the lid, you offered one to Azriel who took it without much prompting. 

“Tell me if I’m crossing a line, but if you make enough money investing in stocks, why do you still deal?” 

Azriel’s eyes fluttered closed as he took a bite out of the chocolate chip cookie, and you found your eyes zeroed in on the way his plump lips moved and his broad shoulders slacked slightly. 

His eyes opened to focus on yours. “These are incredible.” You offered a smile, waiting. “Dealing is what got me the money to be able to invest. Don’t get me wrong, I’m good at it, but I lost a lot to get where I am. Dealing is steady income for now. It’s not something I plan to do forever.”

You didn’t probe any further, satisfied with the answer he provided and not wanting to push your luck. Your eyes were drawn to his mouth again, flashes of memories littering your mind as your body warmed once more. 

Clearing your throat, you desperately tried to blink away the haziness he seemed to make you feel. 

“You can smoke out on the balcony, if you want.” 

Azriel finished the last of his cookie and leaned forward on the counter. “I didn’t bring anything.” 

Your head tilted slightly to the half-smoked joint on your counter, stubbed out and back in your open tin. “Smoke the rest of that. It’s too strong for me and I know your tolerance is higher than mine.”

Azriel laughed; hearty and rich and deep. It tickled up your spine and reached around your neck and jaw to tug the corners of your lips into a smile. The effect he had on you was growing to be a slight problem. 

“You wanna come? Fresh air will help.” 

He watched you pinch the joint and lighter from your tin and lead him through to your bedroom. It was decorated similarly to the rest of your apartment–twinkling fairy lights and books and plants–and out on the small balcony, you’d managed to cram a rattan loveseat and table with vines wrapped around the short iron guard rail. 

“Here.” You handed him the joint and lighter. “I’ll be back out, I’m just going to change.” 

Azriel sparked up the joint between his lips, taking a long drag as you returned to your room. The smoke hit the back of his throat sharply, almost knocking him sideways. Even he hadn’t smoked a joint this packed and strong in a while. It was no wonder you’d had a wobble with it. 

He took a seat on the rattan furniture, admiring the little view your balcony offered. The summer air kissed his skin, even as late as the evening was. The warmth of it had him shrugging off his sweater and throwing it over the table, taking another deep pull. 

If Azriel was honest, he was quite thankful for the moments reprieve from your presence. He needed to take a second to calm himself down. Az couldn’t remember the last time he partook in something like this with someone who wasn’t his brothers or their girls. 

This was more of a common thing with Nesta, smoking and eating together. Never Feyre, she always preferred a glass of wine, and occasionally Mor would smoke with him when she was passing through town. Never a random girl, never a new friend. 

But that moment's reprieve was ripped away far too quickly, because you were sauntering back onto the balcony and stealing the breath right from Azriel’s smoked lungs. 

He was fucked. Comepletly and utterly fucked. He’d never seen you look so relaxed, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of mismatched socks. Your hair was thrown up lazily and stray pieces fell out to frame your face. 

Your legs, however, he couldn’t stop gawking. Soft skin and a whole lot of thigh. Azriel forced his gaze to your face again as you took a seat beside him on the loveseat, leaning your back on the armrest and bringing your knees up to your chest. 

Mother above, he could feel his cock begin to strain in his pants, his eyes begging to sweep your body once more to see what lay between your slightly parted legs. From his peripheral vision, he could see you cross your ankles, effectively shielding yourself.

But Azriel was good at reading people, and by the slight flush of your cheeks and the way your eyes grew more hooded by the second, he was more than certain you knew what you were doing and the affects your actions had on him. 

He took another pull of the joint. “You weren’t kidding,” he mumbled, “this shit is strong.” A bubbly laugh fell from your lips at the way his eyes squinted when the drug settled into his lungs. 

“I did warn you.” 

Azriel offered it to you, watching your inner turmoil as you weighed out your options until pinching it from his fingers. “One pull will be enough to keep me buzzed for the night.” 

He watched your lips thin as they clamped down on the roach. He watched your chest rise as your lungs filled with the thick tar until you pulled the joint from your lips and exhaled slowly. You handed it back to him, cutting yourself off completely for the night. 

Azriel took it between two pinched fingers, keeping his eyes on your slightly flushed face as he took another few drags before stuffing the cherry out in the ashtray. His gaze found purchase on your lips again as he mirrored your position on the loveseat, though Az didn’t tuck his knees to his chest. 

“Are we gonna talk about it?” He asked. 

You blinked at him, head tilted slightly to the left. “Talk about what?”

The way his taunting smirk grew made you shift uncomfortably. You had an inkling as to what he meant, but you hoped if you played dumb, he would drop it. Clearly not. 

“About the last time we saw each other.”

Yup. There it is. 

That familiar warmth spread across your face and chest again in waves of anxiety and embarrassment. You couldn’t handle this type of conversation right now. You were mortified enough as it was, you didn’t need to reminisce about your stupid mistake, nor the way he kissed you back as though his life depended on it. 

You let out a long sigh. “I was kind of hoping you’d forgotten about it.” 

Azriel quirked a brow. “Forget about it?” he asked. “You expected me to forget a kiss like that?” 

It felt like all the air had been completely sucked from your lungs. You could hardly breathe, struggling to string a coherent reply together. Azriel continued to smirk at you, bathing in the way he clearly made you feel. Like he was getting off on your flustered state. 

The state he put you in. 

“It’s been replaying in my head for days.” Azriel’s admission sent your mind into a frenzy. You had no idea what to do with that information or how it was supposed to make you feel. 

What you did know, was that familiar burning in the pit of your stomach, that daunting ache between your clenched thighs. And the way Azriel's eyes darkened and slowly traced the silhouette of your figure, you got the hint he felt the same way, too. 

“Yeah?” Your words came out as barely a whisper, lashes fluttering as the weed you’d just smoked began to settle into your bloodstream. 

Azriel inched a hand tentatively toward your ankle, the tips of his scarred fingers brushing against your cotton socks. The touch had your body keening for more, your legs twitching as he slowly wrapped a large hand around your lower leg. 

“Yeah,” he replied, almost breathless. 

He was testing the waters, desperate to get a feeler as to what you wanted from this interaction. Azriel watched you closely, cataloguing every response your body gave his touch. How goosebumps broke across the silky skin of your legs, how your cheeks flushed slightly and lashes fluttered at him. 

“Is that all you’ve been thinking about?” Your husky voice finally broke through the silence. Az raised a brow at your boldness. “Or do you let your mind wander to what else could’ve happened?” 

If it weren’t for the stifling warmth in the air, Azriel was sure he would’ve come in his pants from your words alone. Because he knew that meant you’d been letting your mind wander to something more. 

You allowed him to gently tug your leg down, resting the back of your calf across his thigh. Your covered cunt was surely exposed, but Az didn’t look. Not yet. A sneaky peek wouldn’t be enough to satiate the appetite he had grown for you. 

He needed to bathe and bask and bury himself in your scent. Mould his body to body, meld his soul to your soul. Even then, he would never be able to feel you as closely as he craved. 

“You want me to tell you what places my mind has wandered to?” His eyes were glued to your mouth, watching as your tongue slid out to wet your lips before tugging the bottom one between your teeth. 

It was with a surge of complete arousal and haziness that had you uttering, “I want you to show me.” 

Azriel’s lips were on yours not a moment later when he surged forward to trap your small frame beneath his large one on the loveseat. You could barely make sense of where you ended and Azriel began. 

His scarred hands cupped your face, his tongue massaging hotly against your own. Your legs had wrapped around his waist, ankles locked across his back to keep him close to you. 

It was unlike any kiss you’d experienced before. Passion and need and desire. Pure want and carnage. Like nothing could ever stop him from tasting you again. Like he was savouring every single piece of you. 

“If you want me to show you…” he muttered against your lips, “I suggest you let me take you inside.” 

You pulled away just enough for your noses to bump and make out a blurry picture of him before you. Swollen lips, mussed up hair that you hadn’t realised you’d been running your fingers through. 

“Worried someone might see?” You panted in a teasing tone. 

His eyes shadowed impossibly darker. “I don’t like to share.” 

Squirming beneath his thick body, your fingernails scraped across his broad shoulders, scratching at the cotton of his t-shirt. “It’s not sharing if they’re just watching.” 

Azriel nipped your bottom lip. “Well, I’m a greedy man, and I don’t want anyone else watching you come on my cock but me.”

A breathless moan tumbled off your tongue like hot honey, your eyes fluttering closed at the words he spoke. You hoped this was just the tip of the iceberg with him. Prayed that he was as filthy as he was gorgeous. 

Without another second to get lost in your thoughts, Azriel was gripping your hips, lifting you as he stood. Your legs around his waist tightened as your arms snaked to circle his neck. 

Even in the dark, he moved swiftly, settling your body onto your mattress without missing a beat. He crawled back between your thighs, the moonlight kissing his tanned skin through the cracks of your window. 

His lips were on yours again, searing and eager. Azriel poured every ounce of need and desire into it, massaging your tongue and licking against the roof of your mouth. He tasted like the cookies you’d baked, a hint of smoke and a tang of bud. 

It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating. 

Your fingers tugged at the curled tendrils on the nape of his neck, ushering him impossibly closer. His body flattened atop yours, the grooves of his abs pressing deliciously against your stomach and chest. 

Gods, he was solid. Built like a fucking Greek God and your fingers itched to trace the delicate intricacies of his golden skin. 

“Azriel,” you panted against his lips. “If you don’t touch me right now I’m going to burst into flames.” 

A dry chuckle left his throat as he dragged his mouth across your jaw and down to your neck; kissing and licking and sucking. He nipped at a sensitive spot, begrudgingly tugging himself off your frame. 

Sitting on his knees between your open thighs, he was a fucking sight. His chest heaved as he took a breath, his eyes dark and hair an unruly mess. Excitement was getting the better of you. So much so that when his scarred fingers looped in the neck of his shirt and tugged it up, you all but foamed at the fucking mouth. 

An unexplainable sound squeaked from the back of your throat. He was fucking beautiful. His skin was flawless, abdomen toned with divots of muscle, and dark ink of swirls that adored his chest. 

You could physically feel your arousal seep from your cunt, could feel your clit throb in desperate need for him. You could hardly breathe, your lungs almost crushed by his sheer beauty. 

You could stare at him forever. 

“Are you going to be good for me?” His rugged voice broke you from your trance. You blinked at him. Once, twice. 

Gone was the flirtatious Azriel who once made you blush from teasing. Gone was the light warmth in his smile and cheeky glimmer in his eyes. 

The Azriel before you was cold now. Calculated. He oozed power and dominance and your pussy clenched in anticipation of the pleasure he might inflict on you. 

The Azriel before you held all the control. And you’d gladly surrender whatever you had left to offer. 

“Yes,” you whimpered in response. 

He didn’t reply. Not with words. Azriel’s large palms flattened on your inner thighs as he pried your legs further apart. The calluses of his marred fingers scratched at your silky skin as they inched closer and closer to your core. 

His fingertips grazed at the soaked fabric of your panties. “Look at you, pretty girl.” 

Your lashes fluttered closed, lips parted open, head rolled back. Gods, you wanted his voice on a loop in your brain for the rest of eternity. If he was going to continue talking, you wouldn’t last long. 

“Look at your dripping little cunt.”

You couldn’t hold in the whimper, nor the way you clenched on nothing—so desperate to be filled by him. 

“I’m going to take my time with you.” You knew it wasn’t a threat, but Christ did it sound like one. You were far too pent up to be touched in any way that wasn’t with a cock buried deep inside you. 

Foreplay could come next time, you’d let him spend hours devouring you if that was what he truly wanted. Not now, not when you were borderline going to sob. 

“Fuck me, Az.”

He stilled, eyes on you as his hands halted on your inner thighs. “Please,” you whimpered, “I need you to fuck me. You can do what you want to me next time.” 

Azriel cocked a brow, the familiar hint of him returning to his face for a brief moment. “You promise?” 

Neither of you allowed yourselves longer than a few brief moments to bask in the vow of a next time. Not when he ghosted his fingers across your cunt and you nodded your head quickly, desperately. 

“There’s condoms in the drawer.” Your words came out a breathless pant as Azriel’s toned body leaned over yours. He rifled through your nightstand, blindly reaching for a foil packet when his fingers grazed against something else. Something silicone.

His eyes found yours in the night, a mischievous glint that darkened his honeyed hazel iris’. Your lips parted. “What?” 

From your angle, you couldn’t see what he held in his hands. Not until Azriel leaned back on his knees between your parted thighs, and the moonlight bounced off the hot pink toy in his palm. 

Oh, fuck. 

Without breaking your gaze, Az gently stroked the tip of the six inch object against your panty-covered cunt. You were soaking through the fabric, your thighs trembling on either side of his legs. 

There was no way this was happening. No way he was going to–

“I think I wanna fuck you with this instead.” 

You couldn’t argue with him, couldn’t even muster a single word to leave your lips. No one had used a sex toy on you before, much less a fucking dildo. And yet here Azriel was, eager to please you in the dirtiest ways possible. Even if it denied him his own pleasure. 

“Az—“ 

He held his free hand in the air. 

“Let’s call it a compromise.” His tone suggested there was no room for argument. You clamped your lips shut and continued to take deep, ragged breaths through your nose. 

“If you’re a good girl with this toy, I’ll reward you with my cock later.” 

Later. As in, he wasn’t planning on making you come just once…

You nodded once more, vigorously. 

If it was down to Azriel he would’ve tied you up and taken his time with you anyway. He would’ve told you not to be a spoiled brat and to take whatever he gave you like a good girl. 

But he couldn’t do that, not yet. 

He couldn’t deprive you of the one thing you desperately wanted. But he could take away the thing to cause the most pleasure. Replace his cock with a toy. Watch you come all over it. And then ruin you until you creamed all over him and sobbed from overstimulating. 

Azriel’s cock leapt in the tight confinements of his pants. He was desperate to free himself, touch himself. Have you touch him. He’d imagined the feeling of your lips around his dick for days, let his mind wander to what you’d look like on your knees for him. 

He needed to be patient, he’d be able to stuff your throat full soon enough. He was sure of it. Then he’d let you sit on his tongue and suffocate him until you were both seeing stars. 

“Please, baby.” 

Your pleading voice broke him from his trance and Azriel wrapped two fingers around your panties and pulled them to the side, baring yourself to him. 

And what a sight you were. 

Swollen and soaked. Your pussy glistened under the moonlight, your hips rolling lazily as if trying to chase the touches he wouldn’t grant you. Az wanted nothing more than to bury his face in your warmth and stay there all fucking night. 

But he didn’t touch you, at least not with his own body and skin. Azriel motioned the toy to your heat, teasingly sliding through your slick folds to collect your arousal. You jolted at the sensation, shuddering beneath his touch. 

Azriel leaned over your body, one arm supporting his weight beside your head, the other coaxing the toy through your head, nudging the head against your pulsing clit. 

“You’re gonna keep your eyes on me, and you’re gonna imagine it’s my cock fucking your tight little pussy.” Your chest arched into his, nipples pearled beneath the thin fabric of your t-shirt. 

“Do you understand?” There he was again, that dominant and overpowering Azriel you saw just moments ago. 

You nodded, lips blubbering slightly. “Yes.” 

He cooed you softly, his head dipping down enough to brush his nose against yours. Azriel lined the dildo to your entrance, teasing your hole deliciously before gently pushing through your tightness. 

Your lips parted, brows knit as your body grew taut. His honey gaze dripped into yours, melding you to him as Azriel rolled his hips to mirror what he would do if he was the one fucking you. 

“Such a good girl, taking that cock.” 

Your eyes fluttered closed at his praise, head rolling back into the pillow until his weight shifted above you and a briefly sharp sting met the side of your cheek. Your eyes flew open again, wide and confused. 

Azriel looked down at you, his hand now gripping either side of your cheeks, his gaze much darker than before. 

“I told you to keep your pretty eyes on me.” And then he sheathed the toy deep in your cunt. 

A shriek of pleasure tore through your throat, hands reaching for the warm skin of Azriel’s shoulders. Your nails dragged across the muscles that rippled beneath your touch, scratching at the surface with a cry. 

“Fuck!” 

Azriel began with slow thrusts, allowing you a few brief moments to accumulate to the intrusion. Not much time, but enough. Because after the fourth thrust, he picked up the pace. 

The noises were obscene, your high pitched cries and moans and the squelching of the toy that fucked your sopping cunt. 

Everything was too intense to comprehend. The fullness you felt, the lack of control you possessed. And the way his eyes bore into yours, as though he was claiming your soul to melt with his own. He was hauntingly beautiful, even in his dark demeanour. 

In your hazy state, it looked like even the shadows curled around his figure. As though he was their master, too. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, baby,” he praised. “Taking that cock like a good little girl.” 

His voice dripped with sex and arousal, and when he shifted his hips once more, you could feel the thick and solid bulge of his length in his trousers. You wanted nothing more than to feel it, taste it. 

You clamped tightly around the toy, dragging scratches and marks down Azriel’s golden skin. “Please let me come.” You had never begged to come before, had never even asked. But you felt no shame in pleading to the God above you for your release. 

You’d give him anything he wanted. 

Azriel’s own breath grew shaky, unready. “Open your mouth,” he commanded. You listened and complied immediately, eager to please him. 

He leaned closer, pinching your face harder before spitting into your mouth, onto your awaiting tongue. Then he was kissing you, biting you, claiming you. 

Your entire body felt like it burst into flames, hot fire licking at you from the inside out. You couldn’t breathe. Your entire being completely locked and consumed as you came around the toy with a frantic sob of his name. 

Azriel couldn’t cope, couldn’t handle the sound of his name on your lips as you came around something that wasn’t him. Every ounce of self control was crumbling down at the sight of you—of your eyes still fixed on his, your jaw slack and your supple body arching to meet his. 

He’d never seen anything so fucking sinful yet heavenly at the same time. Never felt so connected to someone without even touching them. He couldn’t take it, needed to touch you, feel you, taste you. 

Az pulled the toy from your pussy, dragging it up between your bodies as you desperately attempted to catch your breath. He held it to your mouth, and without command, your tongue swirled around the length of it, tasting your own release with your eyes still boring into his soul. 

And now he had an even more vivid image of what you’d look like sucking his cock. 

Before Azriel could get a taste for himself, that cursed blaring of his phone broke through the heaving silence. He didn’t hear it at first, not until it stole your attention from him. 

“You’re phone,” you muttered breathlessly, barely coherent. 

Azriel dropped the toy to the side of the bed, his hands gentle on your body and face now. “Ignore it,” he breathed softly. 

His lips met yours in a taunting kiss, one so stark opposite to the way he’d treated you just moments ago. The versatility of this man was going to give you whiplash. 

But the phone blared again. And again. And suddenly, neither of you could ignore it anymore. His forehead rested against yours, a frustrated sigh tumbling off his lips. 

“You should go.”

He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to. 

“You don’t wanna come with me? Do some drop-offs?” He was tempting you, desperately wanting to spend more time in your presence, especially if it potentially ended like this again. 

You hummed, considering it. But your body was spent and the idea of being in his car and not being able to have your hands all over him at any moment you pleased sounded like torture. 

“Next time?” You posed it as a question, though the hope in Azriel’s eyes proved that he was more than happy to not only fuck you again, but to spend time with you, too. 

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “Mhm.”

He nosed at your cheek, planting a teasing open-mouthed kiss to your jaw, nosing back up to your ear. “You look fucking breathtaking when you come.” 

Your eyes fluttered closed when he pulled away, your thighs trembling as he knelt and then clambered off your bed. Azriel watched your spent body for a moment, the way your thighs rubbed together as you squirmed, no doubt still horny. 

It pained him to leave you like that, wanting more. But if he didn’t leave now, he likely never would. And that wasn’t something he could afford to do right now. 

So without another word, he bent down to press a kiss to your mouth, and then he left—still high on both the drugs and you. 

Thank you for reading and I apologise again for such a massively long wait for this chapter!!

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PLEASE NOTE MY TAG LISTS ARE NOW CLOSED. THEY GOT FAR TOO LONG AND IT'S A STRUGGLE TO KEEP UP EVERY TIME SOMEONE ELSE IS ADDED. IF YOU'D LIKE TO BE NOTIFIED WHEN NEW CHAPTERS A POSTED, PLEASE TURN MY POST NOTIFICATIONS ON <3

[gay-dorito-dust]

can i req deadpool and wolverine kinda fighting over your attention in the poly relationship and it making reader kinda sad so they both just switch to comfort mode :3 oki thank you 💓

You hated it whenever Wade and Logan fought over you. It didn’t feel as though they were doing it to have quality time with you but more so to have bragging rights over the other.

You hated it as it made you feel almost undervalued by them, which you knew was utter bullshit, but your thoughts often won out and got the better of you as you were forced to watch your beloved partners go for each others throats…again.

‘Pookie bear please tell this scruffy lumberjack that you’d much rather be with me to cuddle.’ Wade said as he stared Logan down with a shit eating grin. However before you could even open your mouth to answer, Logan interrupted. ‘No, tell scrotum face over here that you’d rather spend time with me.’ He practically barked as he stepped closer towards Wade until the two were now chest to chest and face to face.

You sighed- upset and disappointed- and got up from the couch and began to make your way out of the room, not wanting to watch your lovers skewer each other over something so stupid. ‘Not thanks, I’m not in the cuddling mood. Thanks for asking I guess.’ You told them as you shut the door behind you, leaving the pair to wonder what the fuck has just happened before automatically pointing the finger at each other as per usual when things didn’t go right.

‘The fuck did you do this time.’ Logan growled and Wade held up his hands in surrender.

‘I didn’t do shit! If anything you probably pissed my cutie pie off more so than me.’ He tells Logan who only looks at him as though he had just grown a second head. ‘Me? You think I pissed y/n off? They didn’t look pissed they looked sad you humanoid nutsack and it’s because of us always fighting!’ He spat as he then realised what he has said as it all clicked for him. You hadn’t looked happy in the slightest recently and them fighting didn’t seem to make matters better, you were dating both of them, not one but it seemed that with how they went about it must’ve drove you away from them in that aspect.

Wade, slowly lowering his hands, also realised the same thing Logan did and couldn’t help but feel partially to blame for this as much as Logan blamed himself. Neither men liked to share and so being in a relationship with you but also each other was something they were -still- yet to get use to, and in the process that was what made you feel somewhat neglected and pushed to the sidelines by the both of them. ‘I would rather disembowl myself, rip my nuts off and use them as nunchucks to hit myself then let my pookie cutie stay sad.’

Logan made a face but shrugs it off as Wade being Wade as they both made their way out of the room. ‘I agree with the sentiment but for the record if anyone is hitting you repeatedly with the nut-nunchucks it’s me.’

Wade smacks him on the ass, causing him to grunt and glare at him, ‘see! Now we’re getting a long my sexy, scruffy lumberjack! Now to excessively comfort our cutie patootie with the booty!’ He exclaimed as they made their way to your shared room, just to find you buried under the covers almost motionless.

‘Hi peanut.’ Wade greets softly as you peered at them over the bedsheets.

‘You done fighting already?’ You asked before tucking the bedsheets up under your chin, ‘That was quick, quicker than usual at least.’ You add as Wade and Logan sat on either side of you on the bed with worry written in their eyes.

‘We’re sorry if us fighting all the time is making you think we don’t care about you.’ Logan then said as he lays himself down on the bed, pressing himself up against your back and holding there with his hands on your hips. ‘What could make you possibly think that’s the reason?’ You replied sarcastically, causing Logan to pinch your side, all the while you found yourself subconsciously snuggling into him and his warmth. ‘Dick’ you muttered your breath.

‘You call me that now but I wasn’t one being a snarky brat just now.’ Logan murmured lowly in your ear, playfully biting it.

‘It’s not my fault that our sexy lumberjack over here is the possessive type.’ Wade said as he too joins in on the cuddle session you were having by cuddling up to your front, burying his head into your chest and kissing your collar bones while Logan peppered your shoulders and neck with kisses. ‘I guess you’re right.’ You groan as Logan bit a weak spot of yours just below your ear as your hand reached behind you to run through his hair, while the other toyed with the collar of Wade’s shirt. ‘But it’s a trait that works well enough for him to not be mad at him for.’ You add as you moved your neck to grant Logan more access, all reason as to why you were upset slowly slipping away the more you allowed yourself to enjoy this moment.

‘Are we forgiven then cutie?’ Wade said as he pulled his head from kissing your collar bones and leaving small marks here and there, not that you gave a shit.

You hum as your hand that was playing with the collar of his shirt then cups the back of his head and bring him into a kiss on the lips. ‘You are forgiven-‘

‘Yes!’ He cheered.

‘-on the condition that you two stop fighting over who gets to spend time with me.’ You then add as Logan and Wade look at one another before shrugging in unison as they looked back at you.

‘Deal.’ They both said and you smiled at your boys with the smile they’ve both been waiting to see the entire day. ‘Good,’ you said as your bit back a yawn, having been pressed snug between the two men for a while and their warmth, you were bound to be sent almost into a state of pleasurable slumber. ‘Now come back down here and cuddle me and give me kisses.’ You pouted while making grabby hands at both men, who both had matching smirks across their stupidly handsome faces.

‘Don’t need to tell me twice.’ Logan said

‘I live to serve you on hand a foot peanut.’ Wade followed afterwords as they squished you snug between them once again while you enjoyed the copious amounts of attention your neck, shoulders and collar bones were getting in both kisses and affectionate bite marks, finally living in the paradise you imagined with your beloved pair of silly men with insane regenerative abilities.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt.1)

Lucifer/Reader

Hazbin Hotel AU where Lilith never existed, Lucifer has been lonely for over a millennia and Charlie will be born one way or another. Rated E for explicit sexual content of the raunchiest variety in later chapters and also weird old people.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

There was a knock at your door. It sounded like someone rapping their knuckles against the wood whimsically, as if following the beat of a song you couldn’t hear.

The methodical folding of your clothes into garage sale-quality drawers came to a halt. You looked over your shoulder, shifting on your feet hesitantly.

It had been little over a week since you moved into the grand old Donner apartment. Apart from a quick tow-in of shoddy furniture from your hired movers, no one had come calling. 

You definitely weren’t expecting anyone either, not in a brand new city you’d spontaneously decided to live in.

After another moment of uncertainty, you pivoted to the door and inched it open to a slit you could peek through. “Hello?”

Your brow furrowed as you stared at the empty space ahead of you. Pulling the door open fully, you peered down one end of the hallway to the other. 

Nothing but cracked and crumbling crown moldings on wainscoting, a matted-looking saxony carpet, the same musty, stale air…

‘Quack’

You nearly jumped out of your skin, head snapping down to see a real, live duck standing just outside your doorframe. 

“Oh!”

     You immediately squatted down to marvel at the animal. It gazed back up at you with beady red eyes and a curious gait. 

“Hey little guy,” You cooed, smiling despite the incongruous image of a waterfowl in your building.

You raised a hand and reached out slowly, instinctive desire to pet the cute little creature warring with a minuscule yet no less embarrassing fear. 

Were ducks typically friendly? You knew so little, ornithology not being your thing. 

“Will you let me pet you?” Your fingers hovered over the surprisingly patient animal before it decided to nudge itself under your palm.

The duck shivered with delight at your touch, all-white feathers ruffling excitedly and tail wagging, looking akin to a very happy dog. 

“Oh my god.” You gasped, heart melting. “You’re so cute!”

Soft feathers brushed against your bent knees as the duck drew close enough to rub its body against you. It had gone from doggish to cat-like effortlessly, and you couldn’t help giggling over how silly it looked.

“Where did you come from?” You asked after a bit of cuddling, glancing from side to side once again. The hallway remained empty, no one running to fetch what you assumed was a beloved pet. 

     ‘That’s… weird.’ You thought. ‘So, who knocked on my door?’ 

It was tempting to ask the bird that was currently bouncing on its webbed feet. You couldn’t help but snort with laughter before positioning yourself so that you were sitting. In an instant, the duck made to climb into your lap, allowing you to carefully lift it onto your legs when it couldn’t reach. 

“You’re so silly!” Grinning, you continued to stroke its head. “Your owner is probably worried sick about their silly little guy.” 

‘Quack’ 

The duck burrowed its head against your stomach as it settled on your lap, and you sighed. “I’d love to keep you, but I don’t know how to take care of you, sweetie.” 

Little red eyes bore into you from below, seemingly wide and beseeching. It was too precious, and too perfect (to the point where you idly wondered if someone was somehow scouting a way to scam you via adorable duck shenanigans).

Aside from the guttural, sad ‘wek’ you got in reply, a slow creak of hinges drew your attention back up. The door across from you had visibly opened the barest amount. You squinted, just able to make out frizzy red hair and a red-rimmed, down-turned mouth in the dim lighting. 

“Oh hey, hi!” You stopped yourself from standing, instead of bracing the bundle in your lap close. “Is this your duck?”

A tingle went up your spine as the door opened fully and an old woman appeared. She was dressed in green capri pants and a ruffled tan blouse, hair red as an open flame and barely kept in-check by a cheetah-print scarf. The makeup she wore was caked on, harsh red lipstick smeared around her thin lips and black kohl-rimmed eyes popping out of her wrinkled face. 

The sour, almost suspicious look on her face softened but did not completely go away, even when she smiled.

“Oh Lou!” She cried, making you jump. “You didn’t get very far, did you? I almost didn’t notice you were gone, you little scoundrel!”

“Well, thank goodness for that I guess. He’s got those little legs, ya see,” She nodded down at your lap, “but he’s so darn fast anyway, might as well be a midget racehorse!”

You chuckled and smiled politely. That persistent tingling at your back had you holding back a shiver, and the skin on your arms prickled and rose. 

“I didn’t know we could have pet ducks in this building.” Your words belied a confidence, as well as interest in having a conversation with this woman, that you didn’t truly have. 

As a matter of fact, despite the inner scolding you gave yourself for being judgmental, you were quite off-put in the woman’s presence. The want to return to your apartment and shut the door in her overly-painted face was rising like a lump in your throat. 

“He seems to really like you, that’s so sweet. He’s not usually this friendly with anyone but my hubby. That’s Mr. Farrow, honey, have you met him?” The woman - presumably Mrs, Farrow, leaned down just a few feet away. 

She still looked to be examining you and your avian companion, the bland pleasantness oozing yet unable to suffocate the shrewd glint in her dark eyes. 

“Oh, uh, no. I’m afraid I haven’t -” You started. 

“Oh, that’s alright! That’s fine! Matter of fact, he’d get an earful from me if he was talkin’ to a pretty thing like you without me knowin’!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Just kiddin’, honey. You’re new to the building though, aren’t you? Well, welcome! It’s nice to see a new face here! ‘Specially a young one!” 

“Thank —”

“Maybe that’s why Lou is so taken with you! Animals just thrive off energy and sunshine and all that. Not slow, almost dead things. I’m sure you’re birds of a feather that way.” 

Again, your soft laughter is polite, teetering on nervousness. 

You took a moment to rise, humming apologetically when Lou squawked as he was jostled. On your feet, you instinctively stepped back. One foot over the threshold and solid in your apartment. 

“He is really sweet.” You said, holding the animal out as carefully as you could. “I’m glad he didn’t get lost.”

Mrs. Farrow stared, arms falling to her sides. She didn’t attempt to take the bird from you for a long, long moment. 

Confusion and disbelief clouded your mind as you stood, waiting, watching as Mrs. Farrow’s throat bobbed when she swallowed forcefully. 

What? Was she afraid of the duck?

In a split-second, she returned to smiling animatedly and waved a geriatric hand in the air so flippantly that the uncomfortable moment ceased to exist. 

“Oh honey, you can put him down if you want. He’ll come back over now that our door’s open.” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Lou’s not my biggest fan. He’s such a prideful thing, you know. Just like Mr. Farrow - it’s probably why they get along so well!”

You blinked, then slowly bent at the waist to let Lou down. The duck made another disdainful quack, red eyes looking at you morosely. 

It’s little legs eventually rowed through the air in an effort to gain footing. You lightly placed him over the carpet and let go, allowing Lou to jump down. 

The duck began waddling away, though it appeared to hang its head as it did so. Occasionally, he turned to look at you, somber and sullen as if bidding farewell before walking on death row. 

“Aww, poor little thing.” Mrs. Farrow drawled. At your side. “Looks like my Lou is sweet on you! Poor guy, I can see why! Again, a lovely young thing like you is probably a gift from above in this stuffy old place.” 

“Say, how long have you been here?” 

You turned to the old woman. “About a week, I’m still getting settled.”

Mrs. Farrow nodded vigorously, eyes bright but mouth pursed. “A week, a week?! A week and no one’s introduced themselves to you?”

“Holy Toledo, you must think we’re all a bunch a’ snobs in here! That’s no good. Oh! Why don’t you come over for dinner sometime and me and my mister can show you some proper hospitality?” 

“Oh, that's really nice of you —” 

“Sure! Sure! It’ll be great, how ‘bout tomorrow night? It’d give us some time to get prepared, have things cleaned and settled. Do you like steak? That’d be perfect, actually. I’ve got some in the freezer just waitin’ to be defrosted.”

“Um, well — That’s a little short notice…”

“I’m sure Mr. Farrow won’t mind. He’ll be glad for the company, and if he isn’t, well he will be when I’m done with him.” She chortled. “Just another joke, honey. He’s always dyin’ to talk to someone that isn’t me. It’d be a real treat to him. Treat ta me too! What do you say?”

Your mouth opened and closed as a light sheen of sweat broke over the nape of your neck. Mrs. Farrow’s sharp eyes were wider, attempting to beguile you while your head was still spinning. 

“I-I guess, maybe —” You stammered.

“Wonderful!” The eccentric woman’s eyes lit up like fireworks, cigarette-smoker’s voice becoming truly raucous in her delight. “I’ll go ahead and get started. You go get back to what it was you were doing before Lou and I interrupted you! And don’t worry about a thing! We might be old timers, but a good meal and good cheer never go out of style.” 

Mrs. Farrow laughed, pretending to shoo you away until you were back inside your apartment and she was pulling your door to a close for you. 

“Have a good night, honey! We’ll see you tomorrow! 6 o’clock, don’t be late!”

Before you knew it, you were staring at the back of your own door again. 

‘What the fuck just happened?’

[colourstreakgryffin]

I was wondering if you can do Alastor x daughter! Reader? She’s manifested from his magic and because of that she has some of Alastor’s powers. However, she’s the complete and total opposite of him. She’s kind and sweet like Charlie, but is very shy. She never likes bringing out her true demon form for she is very terrifying. Alastor is very protective of her. Although, what if she sees Alastor get hurt by another overlord or Adam and he turns into her demon form to protect him and everyone is surprised by this and maybe even terrified of her.

OMFG. Yes! Second Alastor request in a rooowww! I love this man uncontrollably and he would be a good daddy. He’s a stag papa with his little fawn for reaaall! I love this idea, lots of loves and so much thanks for giving Hazbin Hotel more attention— or, I guess Alastor!

Father! Alastor- Hell’s Angel

Okay… Alastor wasn’t suspecting to pop a kid out of thin air when he actually wanted to pop a kid out of thin air. His magic is very powerful, no doubt but he birthed a child from solely his own powers and about 100% of his own DNA so his daughter’s features are primarily matching his own but there are some personal key differences Alastor wanted you to have to seperate yourself from him

So, you’re not a carbon copy of your dad, the Radio Demon. More just have the same deer features and red colouring

Alastor also wasn’t suspecting to have born an angel of his own. Sweet, affectionate, cheery, always smiling but smiling in a more welcoming and natural manner than her papa. He doesn’t mind it, you’re his babygirl. He loves you dearly, even after he just shat you out from literally nothing. He’s just surprised!

Well, at least Charlie loves you because you’re like… exactly what she loves and Alastor gets jealous of how well Charlie bonds with his own daughter!

Alastor has never known how to handle his own powers so when you begin manifesting voodoo dolls and portals containing all kinds of demonic beasts, he has to figure out how to get around all of it without hurting you a single bit. He has a whole plan scheduled out for anytime your powers trigger at random

Alastor’s protective, loving, clingy and carries you around a lot. He loves being able to bond with you, he likes hearing your cute deer noises when you’re trying to talk to him. He never lets you leave his sight and whilst he reframes from murder, he may just kill Vox for insulting his little fawn

Alastor now has all the full right to tell awful Dad jokes, since he is a proper Dad now. Rest in peace once again, Angel Dust

Yes. Alastor is the type to spoil his daughter. Spoil rotten, he isn’t going to stop and he isn’t sorry. He loves his little princess and no matter what, he’ll give her what she wants. If anybody dares to take what she wants from her, he’ll send them to double hell then give his babygirl extra hugs and kisses as apologises

Alastor knows, like him, you have your own full demon form and for a harmless sweetheart like yourself(that only uses your powers to help the Hotel staff). Your full form is actually terrifying and you know that, which is why you avoid it. You don’t want to scare anybody, especially not your beloved dad so you always reframe from getting too mad

Just let Papa Alastor handle anything bad. He’ll protect and care for you in the most sweet, cuddly way possible

Alastor is a lunatic, barely sane, monstrous all under a passive-aggressive, well-mannered, dapper 1930s gentleman image but when it comes to you, you’re the most healthy thing he has and he feels genuine love, care and affection for his own offspring. He only views you as his daughter, nothing else or anything exploitative. After all, he acts more like the one serving you than anything. He’ll get you whatever you want, no questions asked

Alastor wants to keep you away from threats so when Adam attacks the Hazbin Hotel. He has no choice but to leave you with Charlie. However, this didn’t last long since you knew your father was struggling when you heard his voice’s radio effect cut out. That was immediately a sign that you, not even a ten-year-old, to jump in and it caused you to rampage against Adam when you used your powers to track down and make it over to Alastor

“PRINCESS! GET AWAY FROM HERE NOW!” Alastor, despite the giant thick cut across his chest, staining his red pinstriped coat, over the white trims of his dark red lapels, yells out as loud as he can to catch his child’s attention, to get her to back off. Struggling to rise up to his feet with his tall fluffy deer-like ears pinned back. A sign of his fear, not because of seeing his babygirl in her full demon form throwing everything she has at the angel, Adam but because you’re in so much danger attacking Adam

Adam isn’t a merciful being, despite being an Angel, and the risk to your life is extremely high. Your demon form is ten times more demonic than any sinner can manifest, due to being produced by raw demonic magic, you form into a pure demonic entity

Screeching out in a menacing echoey way, entirely black and clumpy, phasing in and out like mist, shaped like a mighty Wendigo deer with literally zero resemblance to your cute little form. To you, your father’s in danger and with his cane snapped in half, his powers limited and his radio voice effect gone

You can’t just sit around in Charlie’s arms and let Alastor get killed by this psycho angel!

You have to risk everything to let Alastor escape. However, he isn’t going anywhere without you and is frantically trying to think of a way to get you away from Adam as the said holy entity keeps throwing swings after swings with his holy sharpened guitar to break off all the attacks coming from your Wendigo-style full form, letting out many strings of hateful curses at both you and Alastor. It’s clear with all the shadowy spines and green electricity shocks that you’re desperately trying to fend off the much stronger Angel to try protect your father

But if the Radio Demon himself couldn’t take on Adam for any longer than a few minutes. Of course, you don’t stand a chance, lasting half the time Alastor did. Being beaten when Adam outspeed and charged down a devestating sharp swing on your full form’s form head after you attempt to attack again. Thinking rather fast, you used your magic to cushion the blow to avoid it actually killing you

Being thrown over on the opposite end to where Alastor is and fading back into your normal demon form, a nasty big cut all down your back to the end of your fluffy deer tail, sobbing and clenching fangs

The staff watching nearby were terrified yet impressed. Impressed a child of your age and confidence was able to get that many hits on Adam and manage to guard yourself from a attack from Adam himself, getting away with merely just one cut

The Radio Demon growls frustrated and outraged at being forced to watch his child being thrown around like some doll and get even more hurt, now cornered by Adam, since it’s clear he doesn’t care to attack Alastor anymore. Thinking just as fast and getting up properly with his snapped-into-two cane in one tightening fist

Alastor phases through into the shadows in an almost melting fashion, dragging you down with him in the same shadowy engulfing manner by a single black trail travelling over to where you laid, leaving the bloodthirsty human ancestor as the victor of this fight. Needless to say, Alastor was so pissed. Pissed he lost the fight when he had managed to get many hits on Adam at the first section of the fight and pissed that said Angel dared to put his hands on his angel

At least… you’re safe now. Bleeding, hurt, crying and tired from overworking yourself whilst laid in Alastor’s arms, but you’re alive and okay. In your father’s hold and safe. Away from the Hotel and protected by the Voodoo’s shadowy magic

“You’re okay, darling… you’re okay. Papa’s got you, he’s always got you”

[anatay004]

THERE WAS A TANG of venom in your mouth. You could taste it, the bitter crimson that seeped through your teeth as you chewed on the inside of your cheeks. You tried to keep your head from aching, perhaps, if you shut your eyelids for a moment — just for a second, you thought you might actually escape him.

"Ms. (Y/N), how wonderful it is to see you again," Snow spoke from across the desk, his voice was quiet but vehement— it almost made you shiver. "Please, take a seat."

Nauseously, you sat across from him.

The study ensued with a straining silence that made the skin of your arms prick with uneasiness. Snow had bothered to travel across the districts to visit your home; it could only mean one of two things: either you were in trouble or he wanted something from you.

"I won't take much of your time, Ms. (Y/L), as long as we agree to not lie to each other, this will be a short conversation, I can assure you."

I'm definitely in trouble, you thought.

"Of course." You managed to answer.

Up close, you could see the lines of evident age that marred his face. How long, you wondered, until time peels the skin off his bones clean?

"Katniss Everdeen," Snow venomously spat, and you couldn't help, but give him your full attention. "Do you recall the name?"

The new Victor from District 12.

The threat of rebellion.

"I do." You limited yourself to answer.

"Good," Snow breathed out. "You see, she is causing me quite a few problems. None of which are tethered to you, of course, but they eventually will. Unlike you, Ms. (Y/N), she dismisses the cause of the Hunger Games, the mercy that we offer by keeping one of the 24 tributes alive. She's challenging, I’m afraid."

Unlike you.

You wanted to dart him a glare; his words were a backhanded compliment. When you killed your partner in the games — your friend, you involuntarily enlightened a sense of honor in the Capitol. Your disoriented conscious due to the venom of one of the jellyfish in the arena eulogized Snow's message: there are no real allies and no true loyalty between the districts.

This was far from the truth, of course.

You never meant to win the games by killing your ally from the same district. When the dam's collapsed and the waves of water drowned almost everyone in the arena, you'd managed to swim back to the surface. But the lack of oxygen and poison from the jellyfishes had already interfered with your sanity. And when he'd rushed to help you back to your feet, you'd confused him for a Career. It was only a matter of minutes before the cannon boomed.

Your eyes glossed at the memory.

"With that being said, she, alongside Peeta Mellark, will try to seek refugee in their act of love to gain sponsors and win the games again.”

Your eyebrows knitted together.

Again?

"I want you to dissipate that advantage, Ms. (Y/M)." He must have read your expression. "I want you and Finnick Odair to annihilate their strategy by doing exactly the same thing."

You blinked in sudden disbelief.

He wanted you back in the Hunger Games. He wanted you back with Finnick Odair, with the only person he probably knew you cared the most about. You tried to quench the searing pain that was burning inside your chest. The air started to rush out your lungs, but you managed to compose yourself in time as Snow tilted his head to the side to examine you quietly.

"There's nothing between – " You tried to come up with an excuse, with anything that could've eliminated Finnick from this plan, but he raised an eyebrow in silent question and the words froze immediately on the tip of your tongue.

"We agreed to not lie, Ms. (Y/M)."

You pressed your lips together. "Right."

He stifled a faint grin. "You are the Capitol's favorites, the most beloved Victors. Even more than Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark."

You didn't know what to answer. His plan was already arranged, there was nothing you could say that could make him change his mind. If anything, he was merely being considerate by taking the trouble of giving you a heads-up.

"Finnick and I haven't spoken in weeks." You breathed out, which wasn't a lie. After years of breaking up and getting back together, the romance eventually ended when you discovered the sexual arrangements that had happened behind your back for years. When Finnick had decided to finally shut you out his life after he’d explained his backstory and decided you were not good together.

The slight curve of Snow's lips indicated that he knew this already — of course, he did.

"I know," Snow confessed. "but the people from the Capital don't, Ms. (Y/N). Therefore, you have an advantage at hand, you can fool everyone, make the Capital forget about the lovers from District 12, and...you will have my protection."

You looked up then and examined his face very carefully. There wasn't a hint of deception in his expression, he was being honest and that scared you the most. He promised your safety; he promised your victory.

"What about Finnick?" You found yourself asking, without even thinking.

He smiled. "You see, you almost got me fooled, Ms. (Y/LN). Imagine just how easy it would be to fool the Capitol if you could just step forward.”

You swallowed hard.

"But to answer your question, Ms. (Y/L), Mr. Odair will be protected if he succeeds in convincing me. And, who knows, if you achieve to sell your romance act, the Capitol might even advocate for two winners again. Wouldn't that be lovely?"

He was lying.

He had to be.

Hope retaliated in the pit of your stomach. "I thought we had agreed to not lie to each other."

His eyebrows jumped. "So did I."

After the conversation ended, President Snow stepped out of your home without another word as a fugitive car approached your home. Within a few minutes, he swiftly disappeared into the leather backseat and the vehicle drove off.

You tried to keep your head from reeling, but your muscles momentarily numbed as you simply stood outside, inhaling the ocean's breath. You couldn't coherent a single sentence, for a moment, you even struggled to pinpoint whether the conversation with Snow had been real or not.

What would Finnick think?

What would anyone think?

You exhaled sharply, but before you could collect yourself, Finnick's frame stumbled into your line of vision from across the Victor's Village. You faltered on your spot almost immediately, muscles wracked with evident tension — and he must've noticed, because trepidation soon glossed over his green irises.

As if he'd suddenly realized who had visited you.

"(Y/N)!" He began to call.

Instinctively, you began to retrace back your steps inside your house (in hopes to avoid him), but he was faster and twisted the polished handle before the door could even shut close behind you. You jumped in shock, a startled expression donned on your face as he invited himself in. "What happened?"

Your mouth went dry. "I..."

"— Did he hurt you?" His voice went up a few decibels, and you struggled to find the strength to open your mouth. "(Y/L), did he hurt you?"

You managed to shake your head. "No, he..."

Finnick reached for your arm. His muscles were tense, but his touch was gentle and you instinctively leaned in. "He's going to reaped us into the games, he wants us to follow the love act that Katniss and Peeta pulled."

His eyebrows knitted together in thought. "What?" He breathed out, trying to decipher the mixture of emotions that flitted across your face in a matter of seconds. Every sentiment that threatened to register on your face before Snow was finally shattering before Finnick.

"He wants to kill them off," You found yourself repeating, a hint of desperation notched down the timbre of your voice. "He wants us to take their sponsors, but he said he would protect us, Finnick. He promised he would and I – "

A sob strangled your throat, for a split second, you couldn't manage another word. He instinctively wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips to the side of your head. You immediately indulged in his warmth and your senses immediately heighten at the whiff of his scent. Belatedly, you realized it had been a while since he’d last embraced you. And it wasn't until he was rubbing your back and whispering that everything was going to be okay when you finally noticed that you were trembling.

"It's going to be okay, love." He whispered.

Love.

And then it finally clicked.

What he’d done to you.

You wrenched away from him as though his skin had suddenly torched you. You took several steps back as you tried to muffle the sob that was ripping through your lips. Finnick faltered for a second as he tried to find the right words to remedy the hurt that you felt, but when he noticed the familiar betrayal in your gaze — he pressed his lips into a thin line.

He didn't know what to say anymore.

"I need to get some sleep."

"Sweetheart, wait — "

"Goodnight, Finnick."

And with that, you turned your back to him.

[lexirosewrites]

I DONT KNOW HOW SLICK SUNDAYS WORK I JUST SEE THESE AND USUALLY LOVE THEM PLEASE IGNORE THIS IF ITS WRONG IM SORRY

Steve who thinks he’s a beta because the upside down shit started around the time he was supposed to present so it’s not until five years AFTER they defeat vecna that Steve presents as an omega, but instead of being able to be excited about his presentation he’s absolutely horrified because he’s been dating Eddie since they cleared him of the murder charges five years ago and Eddie, an alpha, ever since highschool has been very strictly a beta only man.

Steve spends the little of his heat that he’s lucid losing his goddamn mind, crying and sobbing until he passed out, throwing up multiple times, because Steve has always felt like he was unloved and never enough and he had only just gotten to the point where he felt like Eddie truly cared about him, but Eddie is very passionate about only dating betas, giving lists upon lists of reasons why he wouldn’t be able to date an omega.

and now Steve is an omega, which means he’s going to lose Eddie.

Steve, who’s always felt like he is not enough, can’t even be enough to keep the man he’s been mutually courting for five years who he’s been working up the courage to ask to mate with him. That’s how serious they are. Eddie is all Steve has left.

All the kids are in college or working on their careers out of state, Robin’s been in Italy for two years and those calls are expensive so he hasn’t been able to talk to his platonic soulmate and he can’t afford to call at this time of the month, his parents haven’t contacted him in over three years, all the Adults are off retiring in California living off their government hush money, all Steve has left is Eddie and now he doesn’t even have him because Eddie always says he could never love an omega. And Steve starts to wonder if Eddie ever loved him, seeing how strongly he was against dating exactly what Steve was, what if Eddie knew all along deep in his subconscious and never actually loved him the way Steve loved him?

Stricken with grief and early onset isolation sickness, Steve finishes his miserable first heat, and in the middle of a drop, packs all his things, and leaves Hawkins in the dead of night.

Cue a frantic Eddie trying to contact everyone in the party because his beloved boyfriend has mysteriously gone missing with no note and the police won’t do anything because all Steve’s things are gone too,

Eddie who’s only ever had a crush on one person, and it’s Steve Harrington, who’s always been a beta, so Eddie’s never even been able to imagine being with any other designation.

Eddie, who might be a little too passionate about wanting to be with a beta because he keeps getting comments about how an alpha should ‘never settle’ for a beta and Eddie wants Steve to know Eddie is not settling for him, but actually wouldn’t give a shit what Steve’s designation is as long as it’s Steve.

Steve ends up moving to some city in Colorado and working at a youth center, who only gets the job because most omegas won’t work there, so many of the teens are violent, especially towards omegas, but Steve was raised to be an alpha, then turned beta, and then fought monsters during his formative years, so after three scraps with angry teen alphas who don’t want an omega supervising them, where Steve clearly wins and shows dominance, all other teens respect him and start respecting omegas as a whole.

it kind of goes around town that Steve is a safe space, and Steve adopts a new band of kids and it doesn’t stop the chronic rejection sickness he got diagnosed with but it curbs the isolation sickness (he has to take hormonal medication to trick his body into thinking he wasnt rejected but it only kind of helps) , and at first Steve wants to reject his omega ness because he associated it with losing Eddie but the kids need a positive omega influence and Steve only sees his worth in his ability to sacrifice his comfort for others so all Steve does is take suppressants for his heat because he’s traumatized from how painful the first one is. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get to experience the joys of a heat he always heard about. He swears off of dating and rejects every alpha and beta who asks him out, though he does get with one omega briefly in a moment of weakness, mainly because he had long curly brown hair and he ranted to Steve about metallica for a full twenty minutes behind an omega-only bar.

Back in Hawkins Eddie has more then half the gang in his trailer as Eleven, fresh off a flight from the Himalayas, desperately tries to use her powers to find Steve, but she’s looking for a beta energy so when she briefly passes by an omega one she ignores it,

So the party knows Steve is missing and they’re all collectively losing their shit, Dustin ends up calling Suzie on the cerebro but she’s looking through beta documents so she never finds him either, it ends up taking an entire year and a half for them to exhaust all their options and for Owens to get back to them, Robin’s convinced the Russians took him, and Owens starts a manhunt in Russia that remains futile.

Almost two years in, Owens is finally able to track Steve down and tells the party that it wouldn’t have taken that long if they hadn’t lied about Steve’s designation, and that’s how the party finds out Steve’s an omega.

and Eddie, who knows Steve’s insecurities very well, realizes very very quickly just why Steve has left, and his stomach drops to the floor and Eddie himself goes into an alpha drop because of how terribly he feels, knowing that Steve in his most vulnerable moments was so convinced Eddie wouldn’t love him as an omega that he left his home, and hashes a plan with Robin to fly out to Steve and try to win him back.

LA dee da apparently some of the alpha teens Steve semi adopted are super protective of him bc theres a REASON they spend all their time at the center and not home, and they know vaguely that Steve was courting someone who wouldn't want him as an omega so when Eddie finds Steve he has to win the kids over before they even let him see Steve, and Steve freaks out the first time, locks himself in the janitors closet, and has a breakdown so the teens kick Eddie out and it takes like four weeks for Steve to be able to look at Eddie long enough for him to explain that he loves Steve no matter what and then they get mated THAT NIGHT because like fuck is posessive eddie going to let steve out of his sight again, it takes a few years for steve to feel comfortable allowing himself to have heats and the first few are too trauma riddled to be comfortable but then eventually he works through it

you did Slick Sunday exactly right!!

(slick Sunday is just a celebration every week where I post/repost a bunch of omegaverse stuff and reply to asks that people submit. steddie ficlets like this are more than welcome as submissions!)

ahhhh the angst here is delicious😭😭😭

[world0fmadness]

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ✩ ˚ HEAVENLY ANGEL

toto wolff x vintage fashion! wife! reader x ( platonic! ) oc daughter

featuring: toto being the best husband and reader being hot because you are

faceclaim: assorted but mainly dita von teese

୨୧ sorry i haven’t been making smau’s lately! british summer has been kicking my ass, i’m getting stuff prepared for my birthday and i think i kind of burned myself out by making so many smau’s in so little time lol… have this for now

reading music recommendations: heavenly angel by patience and prudence - you’re the cream to my coffee by annette hanshaw - it’s a lovely day today by jo stafford

loveuyn: yn wolff ln’s new photoshoot featuring pictures of her with vintage mercedes cars!

totoyn: the way my jaw just dropped…

> ynsteponme: literally, i’m so down bad for her

> totoyn: it’s so embarrassing how much i want her 😭

ynscurlers: toto wolff can you fight?

> totoyn: i hope he can’t, i want both of them

ynwolffln ✔️: ah! i adore the vintage car pictures so much, now one of my favourite photoshoots ever 💝

> loveuyn: yn wolff ln, never stop responding to fan accounts please 🥹

❤️ liked by ynwolffln

iluvf1: just saw toto’s eyes turn into hearts like a cartoon character

> totontop: lmao 😭 oh yeah he probably LOVES these car pictures in particular

> ynwolffln ✔️: you’re correct! he’s a big fan of the vintage mercedes shots in particular 😉

ynsteponme: still can’t get over the fact that this woman has a child… AND WITH SOME F1 MANAGER GUY 💔 kidding, her and toto are cute… i guess

> totontop: “ some f1 manager guy ” i can’t 😭

totoyn: throwback to this yn wolff ln photo shoot

loveuyn: this photoshoot changed lives you guys…

ynsteponme: yn wolff ln run me over, beat me with a bat, set me on fire, please just do anything to me i really don’t care

> iluvf1: you guys RELAX she’s someone’s mother 😭

> ynsteponme: she’s someone’s MILF

ynwolffln ✔️: oh i love these pictures! it’s been a while since i’ve seen these

ynscurlers: TOTO WOLFF CAN YOU FIGHT?

oldf1lvr: okay yes this photoshoot is super overly hot but i’m more impressed by her hair 😭 it’s always so damn perfect!

❤️ liked by ynwolffln

> ynscurlers: watch yn’s vogue video! she shows off how she gets her hair like that all the time

> totoyn: not to mention the toto cameo is ADORABLE 💔

> totontop: him gently helping her take her curlers out at the back… there’s so many cute toto moments in that video 🥹

ynscurlers: never beating the hottest wag allegations… toto wolff watch your back fr…

totontop: thinking about the time toto posted this picture of yn to the official mercedes account and it was just a post of him fawning over his wife with “ - toto ” at the end

loveuyn: like yes toto, we knew it was you 😭

> iluvf1: he’s so obsessed with her i love it 🥹

ynsteponme: i absolutely love how yn goes from the really hot milf to someone that looks like they give amazing hugs and just wants to smother their husband and child with love

iluvf1: lewis commenting “ who is this beautiful woman? ” and toto commenting back “ that’s my wife, lewis… ” 😭 like lewis didn’t know lmao

> oldf1lvr: and george’s “ mate… please make your own account, can’t stand this lovely dovey stuff ( joking, of course, don’t fire me ) ” comment

ynwolffln: happy anniversary to my beloved husband 💞 the best husband i could ever ask for and the most wonderful father! you’re my necessity, i’d be lost without you 💕

georgerussell ✔️: happy anniversary yn and toto! i still remember the taste of that cake… so good

❤️ liked by ynwolffln

> ynwolffln ✔️: i’m glad you liked the cake so much george, i’ll have to bake you some for yourself one day

❤️ liked by georgerussell and lewishamilton

> georgerussell ✔️: please do… no bakery comes close to you mrs wolff!

❤️ liked by ynwolffln and lewishamilton

> lewishamilton ✔️: me as well please yn!

❤️ liked by ynwolffln

> ynwolffln ✔️: sounds like me and little miss marilyn have a lot of baking to do 🥰

❤️ liked by mercedes, georgerussell and lewishamilton

lewishamilton ✔️: happy anniversary you two! beautiful wedding and a beautiful bride

> iluvf1: lewis still playing into the beautiful woman joke after all this time 😭

> oldf1lvr: i love him

> ynwolffln ✔️: thank you very much lewis! marilyn sends kisses to her favourite uncle 💓

❤️ liked by ynwolffln

> georgerussell ✔️: hold on a minute… favourite uncle? lewis? get a grip!

❤️ ynwolffln

> lewishamilton ✔️: sorry mate! but it is i who has the cute dog

loveuyn: omg… marilyn’s little bow 🥹

> ynsteponme: so so so cute 💔

mercedes ✔️: my beautiful wife and the best mother to our gorgeous little girl ❤️ happy anniversary honey - toto

❤️ liked by ynwolffln

> ynwolffln ✔️: we really need to get you your own account love 💖

> totontop: lmao even yn is trying to get him to make an account 😭

ynsteponme: she really had the dream wedding for us vintage girlies 🥹

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧ ˚ NEW ADDED BONUS ˚ ୨୧ ⋆｡˚ ⋆

toto loves his honey and little miss marilyn

[sepublic]

Thinking of how the Titan showed Luz the first glyph, Light, because she was kind to his son and listened to him, made him feel like his interests mattered when so many others overlooked the little guy and didn’t care about people like him. He didn’t force Luz to painstakingly find it on her own, as Philip did; The Titan freely gave this to her.

Then the second glyph, Ice, comes when Luz takes the moment to listen to the Titan; To say that she’ll learn on his terms, she’ll respect his body and work with him. Luz paid attention to the unheard son, and now the parent, speaking with and not for him as Philip did.

She gets the Plant glyph afterwards by continuing to follow that principle and give his son fun and company...

And the final glyph, Fire? Wing it like Witches is a major epiphany for Luz’s development, where it really hits her that she can’t drag her friends around in her attempts to play out certain beloved tropes and story beats she grew up on; In particular, this episode was about her desire to be the underdog hero, dragging Willow into relatively high-stakes consequences for a Grudgby match she did not ask for.

Sound familiar? I wonder if the Titan was low key afraid of Luz following in Philip’s steps, recognized that similar hero complex... Even if Luz was nowhere near as evil as Belos, well. Philip started off from somewhere, he didn’t begin as a genocidal dictator with countless sins to his name, he built his way up. Maybe the Titan is just being paranoid, Luz is so young after all! But in the end, he hid one final glyph from Philip because of his need for control, and it was admittedly Luz who jeopardized this precaution by giving Philip the Light spell.

Yet in Wing it like Witches, Luz really matures when she steps up and takes responsibility for her recklessness, for subsuming Willow’s problem and low key making it about herself, and what she decides for the group. Luz takes the full consequences of the stakes she set up so neither Willow nor Gus have to, and it’s this mature gesture of self-awareness that prompts them to reciprocate and forgive Luz.

So I wonder if THAT moment was what solidified to the Titan that yes, I really can trust this child. This human, the first after centuries of another who has been desecrating my corpse, bastardizing my name; She truly didn’t know any better, and meant well, teaching Philip the Titan’s last glyph. The first few glyphs were like little gifts, but giving Luz the last one meant she had full access to all of the Titan’s magic, so long as she experimented with glyph combos. And the Titan felt safe to entrust her with something he barred from Philip, because why?

Because Luz got over that fatal flaw of Philip’s; The desire to be the hero at any cost. That proved she wouldn’t follow in his footsteps, she diverged at a crucial point, and it meant she’d never become another Belos. They both worked and studied for the glyphs, but what mattered was the compassion that Luz had, and it was her kindness that began her discovery of glyphs. The Titan could trust his final glyph to her, Fire... But as he’d find out, it wasn’t even his final gift to Luz, either.

There really is this recurring arc of hesitancy from the Titan; Someone who was used, betrayed, and taken advantage of. And knew how easy it was for the same to happen to his son. So to see the little ways in which he opens up, recognizes Luz’s kindness and maturity and responds to each step in her growth... It’s like someone learning to trust again, realizing they’ve really found a friend after all. It’s no wonder Luz is treated like an old friend by the Titan, because she is one, and it makes his final gift and farewell to her all the more impactful.

On a lighter note! I’m just imagining the Titan figuring out how to show Luz the Fire glyph, after deciding he’ll do just that. I keep thinking of him watching Luz in the Grudgby game, cheering her on and giving Luz support by illuminating his last glyph in Boscha’s fire; “Here kid, take this!” It’s such a relatively casual and silly moment too, because the Titan isn’t obsessed with the theatrics and drama of godhood.

[fumikoshi]

Hey ! Can I request for Teacher Gojo x Student reader , where she falls in love with him in her first year, and Gojo clearly notices that but didn’t say anything because it was a really a big ego boost for him when she would follow him around like a puppy. So she confessed to him on her graduation day , third year but got rejected because she was his student. She was of course heartbroken but tried to move on by dating some random sorcerer. This bugged Gojo quite a bit and confronted her, things got escalated quickly from there. As for the ending I will leave it to you, however you want.

𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐞𝐭

✧ Chapter two

✧— SUMMARY; You confessed your feelings for your teacher Gojo, but he rejected you. He only saw you as a student. That's what he told himself until he saw you hanging out with another guy.

✧ — CONTENT; teacher x student

Fumi: I will publish the 2nd part soon, and I would love it if you could tell me what you think about this chapter in the comments. I love to see your comments <3

''Sensei... I-I know it is wrong b-but... I-I can't help my feelings... I-I love you... please accept my feelings''

You were standing in front of him with a box of heart-shaped chocolates, your head bowed cutely, cheeks flushed. You waited until the class was completely empty to confess to him, you were too embarrassed to confess to him in front of the other students.

You wondered if he would accept your feelings.

Meanwhile, he had a big grin on his face, of course, he knew all along that you had feelings for him, and it brought him great satisfaction.

You made it very obvious: the way you started to stutter when he was around, the way your cheeks flushed, the way you started to play with your hair, the way you followed him like an abandoned puppy...

You were so cute.

However, he couldn't accept your feelings. You were his student, and far too young for him.

"Awwwww~! Y/N-chaaan, I'm flattered that you feel this way. And who wouldn't fall in love with me? I'm rich, handsome, charismatic, and strong~''

Gently, he cupped your cheeks and pressed them together, as if you were a child "You're so cuuteee, and I care deeply for you as your sensei."

Finally he let go of your soft cheeks and put his hand on your head. And he spoke calmly.

''But, unfortunately, I cannot accept your feelings, Y/N-Chan. Aside from being too young for me, you are my student. And I'm afraid this is not appropriate.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, your eyes filling with tears. "Sensei... I'm sorry... I thought...

You couldn't finish, the rejection was too much for your young heart to bear. The tears slipped free, rolling down your cheeks as you trembled, and your grip on the chocolate box tightened.

 You felt humiliated, your heart heavy with disappointment. Gojo watched you, feeling a pang of guilt

He can predict what's going to happen. You probably will be sobbing in your bed when you get home. Even now you were trying so hard not to sob.

But he couldn't accept it, you were too young and inexperienced in love. He thought that what he was feeling couldn't even be love, just a crush. After all you are just a young girl and it is not easy to name your feelings.

Slowly, you lifted your head and looked at Gojo with tear-filled eyes

Just one last time

To beg him to accept your love.

"S-Sensei, I love you! Really... I-if it's for your career, w-we can keep it a secret... Please..."

Instead of giving you the response you desperately sought, Gojo just smiled and ruffled your head, treating you like a beloved pet.

"No is no, Y/N-Chan~!"

He tilted his head to the side and said;

''And it has nothing to do with career. If I wanted to, I could do it, no one could interfere with me. Because I'm the strongest and they need me.''

Your heart sank deeper. he doesn't want you...

He leaned down slowly and whispered in your ear as he took the box of chocolates from your small hands.

"And thank you for these sweet chocolates, Y/N-chan~ You know your sensei's weakness for sweets, don't you? How cute~"

Gojo opened the box and took out a piece of heart-shaped chocolate, examining it before popping it into his mouth. He smiled widely at you, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

"Wow, these chocolates are delicious, Y/N-Chan! I guess the rumor that things made with love are delicious is true."

He smirked, giggling as he closed the box. His gaze met yours, and he noticed how dejected you looked, holding your skirt, your head bowed, and lips trembling.

He smirked, giggling as he closed the box. He took in your forlorn form, he noticed how dejected you looked, your head bowed, trembling lips, and you clutched your skirt tightly.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow in class, Y/N-chan."

With a final wink, he left the room, leaving you alone in your heartbreak. 

 As the door closed behind him, you let out a sob and fled the classroom, your heart aching, and your spirit crushed.

The walk home felt excruciatingly long, the tears streaming down your face as you recall the rejection. You should have known that your sensei could not return your affection.

Back in your room, you climbed into bed and cried until you fell into a restless sleep.

Months passed, and Gojo carried on as if nothing had transpired between the two of you. His gaze never wavered, his treatment of you remaining the same as on the first day.

A part of you embraced this familiarity, appreciating that he didn't let your confession affect his relationship with you. Yet, another part of your heart ached, longing for the transformation of his eyes from mere teacher-student affection to something deeper, more profound.

Your world was shaken when a new student, Ryōta, entered your midst. Gojo introduced him with great enthusiasm, and as your eyes met, Ryōta offered you a warm smile. In that brief moment, you appreciated his handsomeness when his lips curled into a smile.

Meanwhile, Gojo noticed the way you looked at Ryōta.

He didn't know why, but suddenly a feeling of uneasiness came over him.

This feeling was not for him

He didn't like this feeling

It didn't take long for you to form a bond with Ryōta. He was kind, gentlemanly, generous, and unknowingly helped you mend the heartache Gojo had caused.

You began to like him, and naturally, your time with Gojo diminished. You'd be by Ryōta's side during recess instead of seeking Gojo's company.

One such day, the bell rang for recess, and you and Ryōta stood up, preparing to leave the classroom. However, Gojo called out to you, his tone was as cheerful and playful as ever, and he had his signature grin on his face. He was sitting cross-legged on the chair watching you.

"Y/N-Chan, aren't you going to ask your perfectly knowledgeable sensei new things about curses~?"

You flashed Gojo a smile, dismissing his inquiry. "Sorry sensei, I'm going to spend some time with Ryōta-kun. Maybe I'll ask you later!" Your gaze shifted to Ryōta, your tone brimming with excitement. "Let's go, Ryota-kun!''

You left Gojo behind, oblivious to the turmoil his rejection had caused in him. You'd rejected him in a way, your preference for Ryōta evident. Gojo realized that he no longer held a special place in your eyes, just another teacher. Your eagerness to be around him had waned, and you no longer followed him like a devoted puppy.

This feeling of being ignored gnawed at him, strange and unsettling. He didn't like how comfortable you seemed with Ryōta or how you laughed with him. The thought of holding hands, perhaps more, filled him with jealousy and a sense of loss.

Ah, what a headache.

[onepiece-writting-forest]

OMGGG I LOVE UR BLOG .IT'S ACTUALLY SO FUN TO READ ^^

btw I was just wondering if you could write one head canon of law and zoro where reader tries to remove the hickies they gave reader the next day :)

have a nice day.

Characters: Law and Zoro Content: Reader trying to remove hickeys they gave them. a.n.: rising from the fucking dead, had an impulsive urge to write. Lucky day. Hope you like it.

-Let's be honest, this happens really often. Zoro might be calm and collected but once stuff gets heated, he can't control himself. You're pretty used to this by now, but today, you didn't feel like having a hickey right on your neck. The entire crew knew what you two were doing, but you could live without the comments. Just for today.

-With your pocket mirror in your hand and some ointment Chopper had given you, you applied it while sitting in the Sunnys training room. You sighed quietly, observing the spot in the small mirror, while noticing a very familiar green color appear in the reflection. Your beloved swordsman.

-He greeted you as usual and proceeded to climb up while watching you. He wondered what you were doing. Mirror, ointment tube...you pointing the mirror at your neck and not your face...huh.

-Zoro put two and two together. You tried to get rid of the hickey. Right, and why did that bother him somehow? He just stood there for a while, staring at you in silence, contemplating what to say. "Did Nami say something again?" With that, he stepped closer and slightly bend down to have a look.

-"No but she will." You mumbled, while Zoro scratched the back of his head. He liked giving you visible hickeys actually, he liked marking you as his especially in front of the stupid cook. He liked looking at it and getting reminded of the nice time the two of you had. It bothered him that you wanted to get rid of it...

-"Fuck it. Who cares? Just because she's jealous and doesn't get dicked down." He shrugged and sat down next to you, which made you laugh. It gave you some confidence back, wondering why you actually wanted to hide it in the first place, yet you were the one getting the comments, not Zoro.

-"You wear one for a day, lets see how that plays out." You said with a grin and snapped the mirror shut, to which Zoro just smirked back. "Try me." [Click here for more Zoro content!]

-There were times, where Law could be either rough or gentle, whatever it was, it always ends passionate. Especially towards the end, when you both reach your climax and he can't help himself but bury his face into the crock of your neck while he finishes off.

-As much as you liked looking at them in the mirror, you didn't need others to see it, neither the teasing of your fellow crew mates. It was pretty ironic that Law didn't enjoy those comments either, yet he left a god damn hickey on your neck. For a private person he was doing a pretty bad job.

-You were standing in your shared bathroom, trying to remove the mark somehow. Yesterday it didn't look too bad, but now the color darkened slowly, showing off the damaged blood vessels underneath.

-You didn't notice Law stopping in the door frame of the bathroom and watching you with curious eyes. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned in, tilting his head. The bruise looked bad, and he was surprised he had left a hickey. He didn't really notice yesterday.

-"Stop that, you're making it worse." His sudden comment made you jump, while Law sighed and stepped in closer. He grabbed your chin and tilted your head to look at the bruised skin better, before clicking his tongue. "Might take a week before that's gone, looks ..."

-"A week?!" You were quite annoyed by his nonchalant answer. Firstly, he was responsible for this, and secondly, of course he would react this way. Law wasn't the one who had a god damn hickey on his very visible neck. You gave him a light slap on his chest, lecturing him on being careful next time or leaving it somewhere others wouldn't see. By the cheeky grin slowly forming on his face you knew he would give you a bold answer.

-Yet he held his promise, especially after your threat of giving him hickeys back next time if he wasn't more careful. It was only fair, since he wasn't a big fan of marks on himself, while he couldn't get enough of you having them. Law simply enjoyed seeing who you belonged to and the aftermath of your night. He wouldn't stop the marks, just hide them for only him to see.

[Click here for more Law content!]

[gay-dorito-dust]

Based off of something I saw on TikTok recently

Hotd characters that I think would be absolutely ecstatic in calling you his spouse(not in any particular order) :

Benjicot Blackwood:

This man is going to think it’s all a dream that you married him but once he finds comfort that it’s not and that you are in fact married, he’ll smile the biggest smile and just acts proud that you chose him out of every possible suitor.

He ain’t looking at anyone else when he’s got you babe, Willem Blackwood and Alysanne brought him up better than that and he knew better himself then to do such a thing.

He’s a simp for you and everyone in the Riverlands knows this, Oscar and Kermit tease him relentlessly for this but Benjicot doesn’t fucking care, he’ll happily let his mind wander to you and talk about you at any given moment if he were to see anything that made him think about you to anyone who could hear him.

Jacaerys Velaryon;

Devote husband who’ll gladly wait on you hand and foot without question.

He loved calling you his spouse, it fills him with joy and happiness in letting everyone know that you are bound to one another for eternity.

Anyone insults you? He’s quick to say ‘have care for what you say in front of my spouse.’ With his hands resting on the pommel of his sword, a silent threat that spoke a million words. He will not allow anyone to mess with you in any regard, as an insult on you might as well be an insult on him too and Jace won’t have that. You deserve respect and by the gods he’ll give you it tenfold.

Aeron Bracken;

He’s gonna be all chivalrous about it and such but you know he’s going to rub in the fact that he got you before a Blackwood could.

He loves that he had something over them now and it was the fact that you married him and he’s on cloud nine the entire time, he belonged to you and he’ll kneel before you often just so he could look up at you with those pretty eyes of his.

He may look like an angel in human form but you were akin to a deity he’d gladly lay his life down for if it meant getting to be the one laying in your arms each and every night. His sword was yours and he’ll cut down anyone you held a dislike towards for a while, just say the word and Aeron will seek them out for you, his beloved spouse.

Gwayne Hightower

Can and will use any opportunity to call you his spouse at any given moment of any day to the point it’s borderline annoying. Not for you and him though, for everyone else that is.

Gwayne will call you his spouse for all of those in court to hear and he’ll be smug about it too because why the fuck would he not! He’s married to the most wonderful person in all the realms; you! You can’t fault him for wanting to remind everyone that he was well and truly taken and happily so.

He says it in front of Criston Cole the most for the reactions that he gets, Criston wore his emotions clear as day on his face that it was obvious to know how he was feeling, so Gwayne abuses this fact to the high heavens.

He loves showing you off because he knows he had gotten extremely lucky in life when you came along.

[hanafubukki]

Menstrual Cramps Comfort Headcanons with Diasomnia (+ Meleanor Draconia and The Knight of Dawn)

You are cramping and curled up in bed, Malleus holds you, his tail and arms holding you protectively. The heat from his hands sooth your pain. Malleus would try and keep your mind off the pain by talking to you or spouting random gargoyle facts. When you were sleeping, he would cast a spell so you would have sweet dreams. “Ask me anything you need, beloved, and I will provide.” Suffice to say, Malleus will be with you the entire time.

Lilia knew about menstrual cycles but the fae’s differs from the humans vastly. So he learned what he could from books and online resources, now if those books were up to date is another story. Lilia is a caretaker and he will take care of you: blankets, chocolates, and head pats are some of what you can look forward to. “I’m here, love. You can lean on me.” But also, because he’s cheeky, “I know there’s a way you don’t have to worry about your cycle for 9 months. What do you say? Should we try it~”

Silver knew something was wrong from the way you moved. He was a trained knight, it was his duty to observe for anything out of the ordinary, and you were clearly not yourself. When you hunched over in pain, he was quick to your side, offering to take you to the infirmary. Chivalry isn’t dead, it is literally personified in Silver. He would hold heavy items for you, pick you up from class, get you food, and make sure to remind you of meds if you need it. He would offer to stay with you so you wouldn’t be alone. “I don’t want to see you suffer, please rely on me.”

Sebek could smell the blood miles away. Normally he would think it’s just a result from normal NRC brawls, but when he smelled it concentrated on you, he was alert right away. He would ask you where you were hurt, practically ready to haul you over his shoulder to the infirmary, but when he paused and observed you: he knew what was wrong. It’s okay, he would assure you, he knew what to do from his mother and his sister after all. You could tell he was embarrassed, but he took his duty diligently in protecting you. He would make you teas, spout facts on what you should and shouldn’t do, and be ready for anyone who looked wrong at you. “Be at ease! For I will protect you from any harm. Now, drink that tea. It will help your pain.”

Meleanor was surprised when she learned about human’s cycles. For the fae, it was vastly different. They had it a couple times a year, but for humans to have it every month? My, how inconvenient it can be, especially if it is as painful as yours seems to be. No worries, she will provide so you are always comfortable. After all, she is Queen of Briar Valley, everything is within her reach. She would have you rest, her hands threading through your hair, soothing you. Her humming a melody calming you down. If anyone dared to hurt you, she wouldn’t hold back from smiting them. “Imbeciles, they dare to hurt you? I will deal with them personally. Now rest, little one, I’m here.”

The Knight of Dawn is determined and loyal as you know. He would notice right away when he saw you. He knew something was off. You seemed to curl into yourself more as time went on. He would watch you throughout the day, helping you whenever he could. He had an inkling of what was wrong but didn’t want to embarrass you. He would bring you food and have you rest repeatedly throughout the day. He would ask the three fairies who blessed him for a potion to help you should the pain be more than you could handle. At times, you couldn’t help but wonder if he wanted to just carry you to bed with how antsy he unknowingly was. He would hold your hand and rub his thumb on your wrist, trying to sooth you. Don’t be surprised if you fell asleep in his warm presence and woke up to him smiling gently at you. “Are you awake? Sleep some more, I will watch over you.”

[pupkashi]

Ok so can i request something?

Im currently on my period and i feel my insides tearing apart. Im having rough months cause my roomate who was also my best friend got in a fight with me and blamed me for everything (that wasn't even my fault) and my final term exams are here as well :((( imagine all the pressure

Can i get something soft with toru?my period is killing me and I would KILL to have this man with me rn

a/n: me when a bad bitch tells me to write comforting fluff 🫡 in all seriousness i hope this helps you even a smidge my beloved !!! i know how terrible and hurtful fights with friends can be from personal experience and i hope things get resolved for you soon <3 i love u so so so much you sweet summer child I’m so proud of you & best of luck on exams !

masterlist

sundays are your favorite days, you’ve decided.

sunday means you’ll have a warm, lanky, white haired sorcerer asleep next to you when you wake up. his arms tightly wrapped around your torso with his over grown hair tickling the back of your neck.

it’s sunday morning, and satoru is wrapped around you like a koala bear. there’s soft snores coming from the tired sorcerer, making you wonder what time he got home last night. the clock on the nightstand reads 7:42 am, making you smile. you don’t move or try to turn to face your lover, opting instead for reveling in his warm embrace, letting your eyes close softly and listening to his steady breathing.

satoru is awake by the time you wake up again, he’s drawing light circles on your bare arms. you turn around slowly, finding him laying on his side propped up on one elbow with his head in his hand. part of his hair is spiked up every which way, the other completely flat and there’s stray strands of hair all over his forehead.

“morning sweetheart” he whispers, smiling softly as he wipes away an eyelash from your cheek. the pad of his thumb brushes against your cheek, his hands are a bit calloused and rough, but you don’t care. you let your eyes close at the feeling, smiling before fluttering them open again.

“g’morning toru” you whisper back, smiling as he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “d’you get back late last night?” he nods.

“first years had more trouble than i thought they would” he adds on, “you didn’t wait up did you?” there’s a pout on his lips when he sees you nodding.

“not too long though don’t worry” you assure him, flopping onto your back and staring at the ceiling, “knew youd be upset if you found me awake when you got home.” satoru smiles, you had him all figured out and he loved it.

“can’t have my baby losing sleep over me, now can i?” his voice is still raspy and deeper than usual, it makes your stomach flip and your heart stutter.

satoru moves around until he’s got his head resting on your chest, closing his eyes when your fingers find purchase in his hair. you both stay quiet for a bit, your fingers running through his hair and satoru letting his body fully relax under your touch.

“missed you” he mumbles, not opening his eyes. “wish everyday could be like this” the sigh that leaves his lips makes you frown a bit.

“don’t worry angel boy, one day it will be” you assure him, continuing to play with his hair, smiling when you form it into a giant spike before combing it down again. “for now, you wanna make breakfast?”

the sorcerer hums in agreement, standing up and stretching before the two of you head to the restroom, grabbing your respective toothbrushes.

“any plans today?” satoru asks, words jumbled and muffled thanks to the toothbrush in his mouth, but you understand him perfectly. you shake your head ‘no’ the two of you spitting and rinsing your mouths before heading to the kitchen.

there was only one way satoru would eat his veggies, and it’s if you made them in his eggs. while you chopped up some bell peppers, mushrooms and rinsed spinach, satoru put coffee to brew. small talk filling the space of the kitchen as you two slowly woke up.

it’s not long before satoru was wrapping his arms around your waist, letting his head rest on your shoulder as he watched you cook the eggs. he’s placing soft kisses on your neck, smiling when he hears your giggles.

“your hair tickles” you laugh, making no attempt at pushing him off you.

“should i get a trim?” he asks you, laughing when you immediately respond with a quick ‘no!’

before long satoru has two coffees on the dining table, accompanied by two plates of food that you set down moments later. it’s peaceful as the two of you talk, hearing the world outside wake up, cars going up and down the street every five, ten minutes and birds singing sweetly by the bird feeder you’d set up with satoru not long ago.

“think a dove is setting up a nest in the garden” you smile, watching as your lover immediately looks up from his food excitedly.

“really? i told you we should’ve gotten the bird houses!” his eyes are gleaming as he stares out the window, smiling at the sight of two doves at the bird feeder. me and you, he thinks, staying quiet so he could continue to listen to you tell him of the new season premiere tonight.

the day passes slowly, with you two lounging on the couch watching an episode of whatever show you two had started during the week before getting ready for the grocery store.

satoru takes grocery shopping you very seriously, writing down every item you say on a paper list as you check the pantry and fridge. soon enough the two of you are on your way to the store, satoru grabbing a shopping cart and following you as you pick out everything.

he does make himself useful by getting whatever you tell him to, smiling widely when you approve of his fruit picks and sets them in the cart gently. he does all of the heavy lifting, carrying all your groceries in the house in one trip, not even breaking a sweat as he softly sets them down.

the two of you work harmoniously putting everything away, never once bumping into each other and easily understanding what the other wants without having to say a word.

“should we do takeout tonight?” he asks, looking down at you. the two of you freshly showered and now on the couch. your head in his lap as you both wait for the new episode of your show to premiere.

“yeah, what’d you have in mind?” you ask. 20 minutes later the two of you are eating dinner, drinking a bottle of wine satoru picked up on his way back home.

it seems unreal to satoru. being home. no matter how many weekends he spends with you, they all seem to be like a dream. he doesn’t care much for the show on tv, but he still sits with you and watches it for the full hour, listening intently to anything you had to say.

its dark out, and to both you and satoru’s dismay sunday has come and gone all too quickly. you’re both back in bed, in each others warm embrace. conversation topics come and go quickly, the two of you laughing loudly at any little thing.

“oh my god it’s already two in the morning” you gasp, looking at your lover with a shocked expression, “how do we always manage to talk all night?” satoru laughs as you try to pull the blanket over yourself, as if that would instantly make you fall asleep.

“time flies when you’re with the love of your life” he sing songs, joining you under the blanket and looking at you with fond eyes.

“that’s not how that goes” you tease, watching as he rolled his eyes, muttering a ‘come here’ before getting you back in his arms, peppering kisses over your face as you giggle.

“toru you have to be up early!” you scold, the smile on your face is a juxtaposition to your words. and you can’t help but smack him softly when he points it out.

“alright, alright” he sighs, turning off the dim lights and leaving a mixture of moonlight and streetlights illuminating the room. “let’s go to sleep then.”

it doesn’t take long to get cozy, the weeks exhaustion still prominent as you two begin to doze off quickly. satoru tries to keep talking, but his words don’t make much sense as they’re muffled against the top of your head.

“g’night toru, i love you” you whisper, holding him a bit tighter as he replies, already half asleep.

“g’night sweetheart, i love you.”

sunday ends the same way it began. with satoru wrapped around you like a koala, his streaky breathing lulling you to sleep. his body radiating warmth that makes you feel more sleepy. you can hear his soft snores after a couple minutes, it makes you smile.

you don’t dwell on the fact that come tomorrow morning, his side of the bed will be cold and you’ll have to go back to your routine. instead you sigh happily, letting yourself enjoy your lovers company on your favorite day of the week.

taglist (send an ask to be added): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi @kentocalls @sadmonke

[loversmantra]

FREE FALLIN' LOVE ADDICT!

synopsis. satoru's fingers look their best soaking wet.

content. gojo satoru x cisfem!reader. smut. minors do not interact. lowkey... househusband satoru and his working wife. making out. fingering. cum eating. drooling. size difference. not explicitly stated but this definitely reads as sub!satoru. foul language. "gojo satoru has the biggest praise kink in existence," i say from the top of my hill. he's kinda pathetic in this tbh but so am i so it's fine.

title from poplar st by glass animals

wc. 2.3k

message from noe. this started as something very different, very wholesome... then it became this. i was fighting demons. sorry. also this is lowkey my first time doing smut be nice to me pls. anyways @neptuneblue dis one is for you twiiin

satoru’s hands are much bigger than yours.

you’ve known this for a long time, of course. as a teen, he never missed an opportunity to remind you you were smaller than him: whether that be by holding something out of your reach or using that creature of an appendage to cover your entire face and muffle your complaints.

he didn’t outgrow his antics. his hands did, however, get even bigger.

but it’s one thing to know, to have the theoretic knowledge of it in the back of your mind. it’s another to have indisputable proof of it: his huge hand wrapped around your own, both warming it and dwarfing it.

satoru’s had his hands on you since the day you first met. rough, teasing — and later loving. soft. and you’re thinking about them a lot these days. you’re thinking of his hands everywhere.

his longs fingers wrapped around your throat. snug around your waist, tight on your hips. deep inside you. you’re thinking about it, a lot.

the wonderful contrast of cherry red flush on his cheeks, down his neck, down his heaving chest. the heat of his breath on your lips, crazed, feverish, delirious. wide smile, all teeth, as he puts his fingers on his tongue and sucks. baby blues rolling back, away from the conscious world and into something he keeps on a tight, tight leash. he’s so beautiful when he gets like this. you want him.

you’re thinking about it so much, these days. you’re thinking about him.

you’re thinking today might be the boiling point.

you’re thinking satoru looks way too good in this outfit… and his hand is just so much bigger than yours.

your workday ended with a text from your beloved, urging you to hurry home, because he had a lil’ surprise for you. knowing satoru, you were fully expecting to find him laying on the bed naked and oiled up, but the sight you were greeted with when you arrived home was very different — though no less delectable.

the "surprise" itself: satoru in the kitchen, preparing dinner for you. he turned to face you when the door closed softly.

and while this might seem strange to anyone — anyone except you — when paired with his text telling you to hurry, you knew exactly where his intentions lied. you’ve been experiencing him long enough.

he wanted to seduce you. and fuck him, it worked.

not like you needed much help there: you’ve been thinking about jumping his bones, among other things, twenty-four seven, for days. you’re wrapped around his finger. head over heels. thoroughly whipped.

but to be fair, who could blame you?

briefly, you pondered. how wonderful it is, you thought, to have this man taking care you after a long day. how wonderful it is, to be loved by such a cosmic being. to come home and find the house clean. to come home and smell dinner cooking.

you pondered — but not for long. something else drew your attention away from his loving acts of service.

black slacks stretched around his toned legs, glorious ass on full display — you could have bitten him right there. his pristine white shirt was tight on his torso, showing off his rippling muscles as he expertly chopped vegetables. his sleeves — struggling to keep his biceps in check, it almost seemed — were rolled up to his elbows. displaying his hands and forearms perfectly. damn him.

to top it all off: an apron tight around his slim waist. picture perfect househusband.

he looked good. good enough to eat.

and you could tell he thought the same of you in your tailored suit. you saw his eyes darken from all the way across the room.

this was all part of his plan, of course.

he smiled. washed his hands, didn’t wipe away the droplets. he raked his eyes all over you, dark, wanting.

“hi, baby,” he purred.

you took off your shoes hastily, hurried to his side, pushed him against the counter and pushed your lips against his…

…to end up here, dress shirt wide open, tongue down his throat, arms pinned to the kitchen island by his large, large hands. his poor apron forgotten across the room.

there isn’t an inch of free space between the two of you — satoru simply refuses to let you drift away. you can feel his impatience all over him, little whines escaping his lips that you drink eagerly, narrow hips pressed to the furniture as if to give himself relief. you won’t have it, you refuse. his relief will be you or nothing.

“how was your day, satoru?” you smile against him.

he returns it, body shivering at his name falling from your lips. his hot mouth trails down to your shoulder, to leave no part of you untouched, untasted. “missed you,” he whispers with a push of his hips against you.

“hm, is that it?”

a hand leaves yours to flatten on your belly — he pushes you down easily and takes his rightful place, right on top of you. white hair tickles your skin as he makes his way back up until… “yeah,” he grins, eyes so dark you can barely breathe. his smile is all teeth. “that’s it.”

without your permission your thighs move to rub against one another. it doesn’t escape him. you try to turn your head away, to flee from his teasing. he follows. he always does.

“look at me, pretty,” he bites into your neck. “you want something from me?”

you do — you want his fingers knuckles deep inside you. and the absolute best part is, you know how bad he wants it, too, to see you come undone with his touch. you see it, you feel it in his every move. the need.

you feel it in the tight grip his hand has on your own, on your waist to keep you pressed against the marble. in the very, very slight tremor of his thighs close to yours, kept tightly under his control. in the tensing, untensing of his every muscle — restraint he’s giving his all to maintain. in the glorious pink of his cheeks, the sweat already accumulating on his flawless skin. he wants it. he wants you to ask for it.

but your satoru’s been quite spoiled lately. he’s gotten used to getting his way every time, little prince. it wouldn’t hurt him to work for it. you want to make him work for it.

you don’t answer him. instead, you keep him busy with your tongue tracing his lips, one hand trailing your nails down the soft hair of his undercut — earning you another full body shiver — while with the other you unbuckle your belt on your own.

it’s easy, after that, to shove your hand under your panties. satoru pushes himself off you, to better watch.

you make a show of it, just for him. making sure to really coat your fingers with your slick. two tight circles on your clit aren’t enough to relieve the pressure, but you trust him to come around and take care of it — he’s so good at taking care of you. you throw your head back with a soft whine, arch yourself into him, and in the hot air you share with him your hand comes back up, fingers glistening.

he looks jealous. already, he’s moving — moving to take your hand in his and taste — but you won’t have it. before he can do anything about it, you pop your fingers into your mouth, sucking yourself off them.

satoru’s eyebrows knit briefly, but his smile widens. his breaths are reduced to pathetic, shallow pants. if you push him a little more, will you get him drooling, tongue hanging out like a puppy? you bet you could. but today isn’t the day to find out. you want his fucking fingers.

he doesn’t let you think about it any longer. “can i?” he rasps, leaning down. his tongue runs over his teeth.

you don’t think about it. you nod your head, and he dives.

licking into your mouth desperately, moaning like he's having the time of his life. it’s so easy to meet him halfway, to suck his tongue in your mouth, to swallow all his little whimpers — so good, baby, fuck — you want it all, so you take it all.

he only stops to rest against your mouth and whine, “you taste so good, i wish you could eat yourself out.”

he catches you completely off guard. you have no answer to that, so brilliantly, you say, “huh?”

he noses at your cheek and explains, “i want to eat your cum straight from your mouth.”

and that’s enough of that — you’ve run out of patience. you think you’ve wrecked him enough, in any case, to hear such things spewing out of his mouth. you feel him throbbing. you are, too.

“can’t have that, angel,” you pant against him. “but you can make me cum.”

you can feel his smile. “i thought you’d never ask.”

his fingers slide down your body, under your pants, taking the same route yours did. only it’s much harder for him — they’re much bigger.

satoru wastes no time. the stretch is immediate, big finger pushing into you slowly. your hand knitted in his hair tugs him down to you. his moan is even louder than yours.

he stays there for a moment, savoring it, licking at your lips, your neck, the underside of your jaw — moaning like an animal in heat, like he could cry from the relief your hot walls hugging his fingers bring.

cherry red on his cheeks, down his neck and the glimpse of his heaving chest his shirt gives you. hot pants fanning your lips. crazed. feverish. delirious. wide smile, canines glimmering in the light. oh, you’ve been waiting for this. you want more of him, you need more of him. your hands move against your will, almost tearing open his clothing. a huff of laughter warms your cheek.

but your love is as impatient as you.

a second finger pumps into you, slow and steady. you mewl, and with your encouragement satoru rises on his elbow to increase the pace.

“feel good, sweetheart?” he pants.

you couldn’t keep quiet if you tried.

“yeah,” you smile. “i feel fucking good.”

then you sink your teeth straight into his neck and delight at the wild buck of his hips, the sinful cry he gifts you.

his entire body moves with him. his hips grind into you, shameless, desperate, following his hand’s movement — and so does his tongue, fucking into your mouth like he wants you everywhere, wants to be inside you everywhere, wants to bury himself into you. drool drops down his chin. you drink it.

every beautiful sound that comes from him, every whimper, every harsh breath, every high-pitched moan is rewarded with a soft murmur of yours — so good, angel, so good for me, so good! his pace increases, his bicep is bulging, his back tenses, his eyes cross, he’s so close, you’ve got him right where you want him.

the pressure in your lower belly grows stronger with every expert stroke. he touches everywhere, a tender caress pumped into you by the strengths of his arm and pelvis together. mimicked perfectly by his tongue tugging at your lips, stroking your own, invading your mouth. you feel it grow, grow, until—

you come undone right there on his hand, in your pants, with a loud cry of his name, digging his nails into his shoulders — in retaliation, and partly to stave of his own orgasm, you’re sure of it, his bites the soft flesh of your neck, a wail dying in the back of his throat.

you come down together, chests rising and falling against one another, hot breaths warming the air around you. he’s still throbbing against your thighs, fingers slowed to shallow thrusting, as if he couldn’t bear to let the moment end just yet. you force him to still by smothering his hand with your thighs.

satoru makes his way back to your lips, leaving behind a trail of wet kisses and a singular bite on your cheek, one you answer with a giggle.

“that was a good one, baby,” he says against your mouth. “how many more can i give you?”

“depends. how many more can you take?”

he doesn’t answer. instead, he smiles. his hand resurfaces from your underwear, soaked, glistening. he takes a moment to rub his fingers together, admire the slick, the feel of it all over his skin. you take the time he gives you to admire him.

he’s so beautiful, when he gets like this.

his hand rises, heading for his face. your gut clenches, thighs rubbing together in anticipation, a deep breath filling your lungs—

his tongue lolls out and his soaked fingers come to take their rightful place right onto it. his lips close around his hand. his cheeks hollow as he sucks.

baby blues rolling to the back of his head, satoru trembles, wracked with a full body shudder and a moan so sinfully loud you swear it echoes against the walls. his throbbing cock rubs on your thigh.

he allows himself one, two, three finger-deep thrusts into his mouth, practically fucking himself, gagging on his own hand, putting on the most wonderful show for you. just to make sure there’s not a droplet left.

then his fingers leave his mouth with a loud pop! and he looks back down at you. crazed. feverish. delirious. eyes so dark you can barely breathe.

looking good enough to eat.

later on, after a lot more cum from both parties and a well-deserved bath, you rush into the kitchen, praying your apartment isn’t about to burn down. satoru was, after all, supposed to be making you dinner.

when you lean over the countertops, you find that the stove was never on.

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