#also my apologies that it took me three days to respond to this work has done me a murder this week

[mister-eames]

You really do be out here blessing us with all your headcanons 🥺 I’m thinking though... what about the first time Arthur and Eames make each other laugh? I am literally so about all those small and seemingly inconsequential moments that lead to the ‘oh’ moment 🥰

The Snort.

It's been an hour. A whole goddamn hour of listening to Edmund the Extractor droll on about their planned heist, circling around and paraphrasing it in so many different ways and Eames has had enough.

"...and so, if we can just reiterate the outline..."

That's it, he's zoning out.

Settling back in his chair he allows his gaze to roam around the rented office space. He catches Arthurs eye from across the room, who, if possible, looks even more bored than Eames does. At least it's not just Eames then. He tilts his head towards Egghead Edmund and makes a face, crossing his eyes and scrunching up his nose.

Arthur's lips purse as he supresses a smile, but his cheek indents, giving him away. Then, while Edmund is turned away, Arthur raises two fingers to his temple and mimes shooting himself, tongue lolling out for a moment as he plays dead, only to straighten when Edmund turns back.

The playfulness catches Eames so off guard he can't help the snort that escapes his nose.

The dirty stare that their extractor sends him is worth it.

2. The Snicker.

Generally speaking, Arthur believes in just desserts. He doesn't hold egregious grudges and tries not to interfere in matters of revenge too much. People who deserve it will get what's coming to them.

Except, Arthur also happens to have an inner thirteen year old that is not above petty pranks in the name of being the arbiter of said karmic justice - and Eames, that thief, that fucker, has been riling Arthur up all job. Little things here and there, stealing his pens, his keys, standing in front of the coffee pot in the kitchen and refusing to move when Arthur wants to make a coffee -- and on one memorable occasion, sketching dicks all over his paperwork. Dicks on his dossier.

Eames does this all the while looking at Arthur with an infuriating expression that somehow managed to be both blank and smug.

Well, that's it. Arthur has had it. He doesn't know how Eames manages to be so annoying to the point of Arthur breaking his composure, but he's achieved it.

The opportunity for a bit of pay-back comes at the end of long day, near the end of the job. It's only them and the architect left in the warehouse.

Eames goes to sit but Arthur, seeing the opening, kicks out at the base of the chair at the last second, wheeling it away. Eames drops to the floor with a heavy thud.

The startled look at his face is hilarious.

Arthur looks down at Eames with the same smug look he'd received these last few weeks.

"Messing with a mans chair," Eames grumbles, getting up, rubbing his rear with his hand as he does so. He nods Arthur. "I'm going to get you back for that, just you wait."

"You've got dust on your ass," Arthur says politely.

Eames looks back and down at his slacks, the dark fabric indeed imprinted with dust. Then he shrugs and jauntily walks away, hips swaying with an exaggerated swagger, the dusty handprint shifting with the bounce of his derrière. The architect barks a laugh at the sight.

Jesus.

Arthur swivels his chair around so Eames can't see him snickering into his palm.

3. The Giggle.

This has been the most boring job in the history of jobs.

They've been stood upon this rooftop observing the dreamscape for snipers and other assassins for hours. Worse, Eames isn't even here in the dream to forge, to be an acteur, he's here because Arthur called him and asked if he would like something to do and Eames was stupid enough to say yes. This mans mind is 'mildly' militarised, in Cobbs words, hence the need for extra manpower. At least Arthur is with his to keep him company.

It hasn't been all bad though. The boredom, after several hours, has clearly gotten to Arthur too.

"That projections' name is Brenda," Eames says. "She looks like a Brenda."

They've been playing this game for the last thirty minutes.

Arthur peers over the ledge at the projection, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, brushing shoulders with Eames to get a better look. Arthur nods, continuing their game.

"She works as a corporate receptionist by day."

The projection walks down the pavement in a respectable two-piece, talking on her phone. Eames asks, "and by night?"

"She works at a strip club."

"Oh, how saucy."

Arthur adds, "Also as a receptionist."

"Do strip clubs have receptionists?"

"The classy ones do."

"You would know, would you?"

Arthur shrugs. "It's how I got through senior year of high school."

The mental image of a barely-legal Arthur sat in the shady shrouds of a subterranean strip-club sends Eames mind to a strange place. The moment is silent, pensive. Arthur's face is solemn, like he's stuck in an awful memory, brow furrowed, lips twisted in consternation.

"You wouldn't believe how out of order their taxes were," Arthur says suddenly, shaking his head in disgust.

An embarrassing wheeze-giggle expels itself from Eames chest.

He thumps it with his fist when Arthur turns to him with a surprised smile, cheeks creasing with dimples Eames has yet to see up this close.

Oh Arthur, he thinks, grinning back as butterflies swarm in his belly, never change.

4. The Regular Laugh.

The email catches Arthur off guard. For one, it's delivered to his personal email address, the one he's had since the internet was a thing (arthur_is_king69) and secondly, it comes in the midst of a drought of work. A drought so severe that Arthur has been stuck home so long that indubitably become domesticated.

The email is brief.

at a bar for my mates 30th. they have a drink here called the king arthur. reminded me of when i stumbled across this e-male addy of urs LOL. embarrasing.

Attached is a picture. It's Eames, holding up an actual goblet and pointing to it proudly, like he's just caught a big fish. He's grinning widely, all-teeth, his eyes hazy with intoxication and good cheer.

He looks loose and happy and so dumb.

If Arthur laughs and saves the picture, well, no one is around to see it.

5. The Full-Body, Belly Laugh.

The couple next door have been going at it for an hour and Arthur is starting to get seriously pissed off.

Not that he would begrudge anyone a sex life and honestly, besides criminal activity, that's mostly what he assumes these motels are made for, but it's two in the morning and Arthur is tired, alright, he's been up for forty hours thanks to a job gone bad and has to lie low, has to share a room with Eames who snored the last two nights and it's two in the fucking morning.

"Yeah, baby," a woman moans through the wall, "so good. You fuck me so good."

Arthur stares in disbelief across the room at the other twin bed as the sounds of mattress springs squeaking rises in volume. Eames, tucked under the covers, is staring right back at him.

"How is this our life?"

"Better question is how are they still going?" Eames mumbles into his hand, eyes wide. He looks as traumatised as Arthur feels.

"Fuck yeah, slap my ass!"

Their eyes widen in unison as the headboard begins pounding against their shared wall. They say nothing for a long time, listening to the occupants next door having the most enthusiastic intercourse he has ever heard. If only the motel had working had working hot water, god, he'd get in the shower and try and drown himself - at least he wouldn't have to listen to this or Eames' snoring ever again.

"Do you think they're using a condom?" Arthur wonders idly, his will to live wilting at a rapid pace.

"Probably not, given the squelching."

A man grunts, "Oh, oh!"

For some reason that makes Eames snicker. "Fucking hell. Did you hear that bloke?" He imitates the sound. Arthur cringes at the accuracy.

"Stop."

"Fuck my ass," Eames says breathily, snickering when again when Arthur throws a pillow at him.

Arthur purses his lips together when they threaten to spread wide in amusement. "She said 'slap my ass', not fuck."

"Oh, did she?"

"Yeah."

"An important distinction, my liege."

The moans next door escalate in pitch, getting more excited and loud until its a cacophony of passionate screaming and wall-banging. There's a wailing crescendo as the occupants seem to reach completion and then --

Finally.

Silence. His shoulders relax and he slowly removes the hands that have somehow made their way to cover his ears during the climax. It's quiet. It's blissfully fucking quiet.

And then--

"Oh yeah," Eames whisper-moans, high and feminine, a grin on his stupid face.

It bubbles up and erupts unbidden. Arthur can't help it - he's so fucking tired and Eames is so annoying. He throws the duvet over his head to muffle his laughter, Eames' wheeze-laugh setting him off all the more, his stomach muscles straining with unbridled mirth.

+1. Laugh so hard they cry.

The next morning they leave their room at the exact same moment the couple next door appear to be checking out.

The woman with the mutant lung capacity steps out first, slinging a duffle over her shoulders. She's very pretty - tall, leggy and blonde who looks like she's got every inch of beauty sleep, amongst other things, that he and Arthur did not.

It's the man the steps out afterwards that has them all pausing.

He hates this man. He hates him so much he didn't think he could hate him any more before last night. A quick glance at Arthur's rigid posture, fists balled at his sides, would suggest the same sentiment.

"Edmund!" Eames greets, smiling brightly. "What a coincidence."

The extractor seems to shrivel into himself upon sighting them, as if sensing this. His fair-faced paramour has no such instinct, affectionately winding her arm around his waist.

Edmund clears his throat. "Arthur, Eames," he returns the womans embrace. "We work together," he explains to her.

"Oh, at the MoMA?" The woman looks impressed.

"And who are you?"

"I'm Brenda."

Out the corner of his eye, Arthur stills.

"What do you do for work, Brenda?"

"I'm a receptionist."

Eames bows his head, looking down at his feet, jaw positively burning with how hard he's clenching it to suppress his laughter.

"We gotta to check out," she says, disentangling herself and heading to the front office, waving. "It was nice meeting you!"

As soon as she disappears through the doors Arthur, who has not slept more than twenty minutes of microsleep in the past two days, plants his hands on Edmunds chest and shoves him, hard.

"Arthur---what??"

"If I ever have to hear you fornicating like a wild animal again I am going to shoot you. In the dick."

Fornicate, Eames recites internally, slapping a hand over his face as a hysterical snort escapes his nose.

"Wait--"

"Go."

Eames looks up just as Edmund skedaddles, sneakers squealing against the pavement in his hasty departure.

"And have some fucking decorum!" Arthur snaps after him. He turns to Eames, hands on his hips once Edmund is out off earshot. "Jesus."

Decorum. At this point his shoulders are shaking with laughter. Arthurs face.

"Brenda--" he wheezes helplessly, losing the words to laughter.

Arthur's whole body crumple into laughter at the same time Eames' does. And he doesn't know if it's the exhaustion, the situation or the utter delight of Arthur's disarming sense of humour, or all of it, but Eames can't help but follow, loud, braying guffaws breaching the containment of his body and out of his mouth, eyes burning.

Even through his tears Arthur looks both pleased and hysterical, even as he attempts to compose himself and Eames finds himself utterly charmed, stomach swooping, by the wrinkles pleating at the corner of Arthur's eyes as he fails to control his smile.

They head to breakfast once the laughter has petered out into the odd snicker. Noisy neighbours and jobs gone wrong aside, Eames is going to miss the easy camaraderie of the last few days once this is all over, if he must admit it.

In the meantime, he observes the fellow patrons at the diner whilst they're in the long line to order and starts making stories about them.

Arthur grins openly, leaning into him.

[notafunkiller]

tying you to me

Summary: When your boss, Bucky, apologizes for being rude to you once again, things take an unexpected turn.

Pairing: boss!Bucky Barnes x marketing director!female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, sir kìnk, breasts insecurity, protected séx, bøndage, a little degrading, praising kìnk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 5.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

He’s well aware he went too far. He noticed right when he finished talking and took a look at you, but what is said is said. And the last thing he wants is Steve annoying him about the meeting.

“I don’t question the way you deal with employees, do I?” Bucky snaps, tired and really wanting this day to be over.

“What has gotten into you? What bothers you so much about her? I just don’t get it.”

Bucky sighs deeply, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration. “It’s not just one thing,” he mutters, his tone weighed down by a mix of tiredness and anger. “It’s a culmination... She’s fucking impossible.”

“Bucky, I get you’re upset, but taking it out on her isn’t fair. She did an incredible job, but you didn’t even listen to her. What’s really going on here?”

“I feel like she’s not seeing the bigger picture. We disagree constantly, and it’s making things difficult. Maybe I overreacted, but it’s been building up for a while.” Bucky leans in as he speaks, with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His voice carries an edge that Steve notices immediately. He knows there is something about you that affects Bucky, but he can’t quite put the finger on it. Ever since he hired you, Bucky’s been angry with him too, which has happened only two or three times over twenty years of friendship.

“I can see this is really affecting you, Buck. If there’s something personal or if my decision to bring her on board has caused you any discomfort, talk to me. I just wanna make sure everything’s okay between us.”

He leans back a bit, surprised. “Personal? No, it’s not… it’s not about that,” he stammers, searching for the right words. There’s a subtle shake of his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss his own thoughts. He wishes there was a personal connection so badly that it messes with his head…

“Then what is it? I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. I know you hate when things are not under your control, but I made the right call to hire her. And you were really unfair to her, look,” Steve waves around as he speaks, and Bucky turns to look at you through the glass door. You’re still there… working. “She’s not just smart and creative, but also ambitious and hard working. I know how much you value this as well.”

“I didn’t mean to come off unfairly. It’s just…” Bucky sighs, moving to shift his gaze back to Steve. “Our ways clash, and it’s hard to manage it. I value her skills, but finding a middle ground seems impossible sometimes.”

“Look, Buck, I understand it’s tough, but it’s important to listen to her ideas too,” Steve responds, his voice carrying a firm yet empathetic tone. “Today? You didn’t even look over the outlines. Try giving her ideas a chance or just suggest new things without trashing all of her work. You’d be offended too.” He pauses, and Bucky’s focus is back on you. His eyes narrow slightly, studying your determined expression as you delve into whatever you are working on that he dismissed today. And for a few seconds a pang of guilt flickers across Bucky’s expression, which Steve immediately catches. He clears his throat and continues. “I understand it’s not easy to step back and apologize, but it’s not about who’s right or wrong. And, to be honest, you were wrong anyway. It’s about ensuring a healthy workplace.”

“I appreciate your perspective, Steve,” he begins with a calm voice. “But I don’t think it would make a difference.” His gaze briefly flickers towards you before returning to Steve.

“Trust me, it’ll make a difference, not just for her but also for the team. Give it a shot.” Steve smiles, patting him on the chest before standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. It’s so late.”

“Alright, lovebird, off to your nest?” Bucky teases. “Natasha’s waiting for her captain. Better not keep her waiting too long.”

Steve chuckles. “Well, someone’s got to keep the romance alive around here. Good night.”

“Night...”

*

The audacity of this man is unbelievable. After all that shit he pulled on you today, he has the nerve to order your food! He’s the reason why you’re still working at eight pm instead of lying on your couch.

You are so close to crying out of exhaustion and anger, but you won’t give him this satisfaction. And you won’t eat his food.

“Are you seriously gonna starve yourself?”

“I’m not hungry,” you retort, your voice sharper than intended as you give him an annoyed look.

Bucky’s expression softens instantly, a hint of concern flickering across his face. “Come on, you’ve been working the whole day” he insists, trying to reason with you. “You need to eat something. Did you even drink water?”

You shake your head weakly.

“Look, I-”

“If you don’t like Pizza, I can grab you something else.”

You raise your hand, waving around. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I get home.”

The idea of accepting anything from him like this feels wrong. You don’t want his pity.

“Stubborn as ever,” he sighs, muttering under his breath, and you look up to meet his gaze. For a moment, there’s a silent understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension lingering from earlier.

What did Steve tell him to make him actually try to have a decent conversation?

“Look, sir,” you say through your teeth. “I don’t want your pity. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll manage. I just need to finish this.”

“This isn’t about pity.” His tone is firm. “You’re exhausted, and I’m just trying to help.”

“I said I’m fine. I’ll be done with these.” You lift your papers to emphasize. “And get home.”

“You’re not fine!” he shoots, surprising you. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”

You’ve never seen him screaming before. Even when he is angry, he’s always the silent type.

“Don’t you dare!” you fire back all of a sudden, unable to hold back. If you’ll get fired, at least you should speak your mind properly. You can’t take more of this. He can’t step on you without consequences. “You are the reason why I am here anyway. Don’t play the concerned hero, just take your food and eat it...” You pause for a second before sarcastically adding. “Sir.”

“This isn’t just about the food, is it?” Bucky’s voice softens slightly despite his impulse to raise his voice again. “It’s about the meeting.” You keep looking him in the eyes, not denying the obvious. Of course it’s about the meeting. “Look, I am sorry, I know I should have handled things differently, but I’m trying to make it right.”

“You think a wannabe apology and food make everything okay?” You ask bitterly, standing up. “You humiliated me, Mr. Barnes. You didn’t even hear me out, you didn’t even listen to my ideas, what the team and I managed to do in the last few months. You disrespected them too! And I don’t get it...” You hate how tall he is. How perfectly his suit is ironed. How nice his hair is. Fuck him! “Ever since Steve hired me, you refused to communicate with me. It’s like you have decided who I am and what I’m worth without even giving me a chance, without acknowledging my efforts and results!”

“That’s not true,” he begins, trying to defend himself even though you both know you are right. “I made a mistake, I admit it, but I want to fix it.”

“A mistake?” You laugh humorlessly. “For months you’ve been treating me like shit, excuse my language.” You shake your head. “Actually I don’t. You should be the one apologizing! You look at me as if I am a scum, as if my presence bothers you. I come to you only when I have to, and you act as if I want to waste your time. Well, I wasted mine for months in this company. With you!”

Bucky snaps, feeling the frustration taking over him. “My decisions are based on what’s best for the company. It’s nothing pers-”

“That’s just a bullshit excuse to maintain the status quo!” you interrupt him, the tension escalating. You don’t care about this job anymore. Whatever will happen, let it happen. “You’re a stuck-up asshole, resistant to change and blind to new perspectives! My perspectives only, to be clear.” You see him clenching his jaw before his left hand covers his jaw. Oh, he’s angry. Good! “And it’s not even out of misogyny since you get along just fine with Shuri. So what is it? What is it, Mr. Barnes, that makes you hate me?”

“It’s not about you,” he insists, his voice strained with the effort to keep calm. “It’s about maintaining stability. It’s about-”

“Bullshit! You’re threatened by anything that challenges your authority! You’re just frustrated and insecure. You’re scared that someone else can do better things in their own way. You’re just a tyrant! I don’t know how Steve is friends with you. He’s such a great man, and you’re a dick.” You laugh. “God, I wanted to tell you this for so long. And if it’s not clear, I fucking quit!”

You’d smile widely if it wasn’t for his snort.

“You’re not quitting,” Bucky’s voice is low, but you still hear it.

He doesn’t believe you, clearly. But he will because you’re not joking or backing off. You can’t take another humiliation session, especially when you did nothing to deserve it. As much as you admire Bucky’s intelligence and company policies, he’s a fucking douchebag. To you.

“Watch me,” you retort instantly. Your heart starts racing as he takes another step toward you. He’s so close that you only need to get on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“No, you’re not quitting. And you’re not walking out that door until we settle this.”

“Settle what, Barnes? Your ego?” You try to maintain your composure, but the closeness makes it hard for you to focus.

He sighs, and your eyes find his lips again. They are pink and wet from his tongue. If only he was less of an asshole and not your boss, maybe you would...

“This isn’t just about me and my authority.”

“Then what is it?” You're confused.

“It’s about you challenging everything I’ve built here,” he admits, looking straight into your eyes.

“And you can’t handle that?” Your voice is filled with sarcasm, but for once he doesn’t focus on that.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple, Mr. Barnes.”

“I... I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Deal with this... with you.”

“Deal with me?” You puff. “You’re insufferable, I am the one who has to deal with you and your constant checkups. With your: that’s not good enough, that needs to be changed, do this, do that over and over again.” You mimic his patronizing tone. “You don’t give me real suggestions-”

“I just... struggle with change.”

“And I’m the change you can’t handle?” The question hangs heavy between you, and his eyes drop to your lips this time.

“You challenge me,” he admits, his voice barely above the whisper. “You and your crazy ambition, your undying dedication, and your incredible ideas...” He pauses just to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m suffocating every time I look at you.”

“Suffocating?” You roll your eyes. “How am I suffocating you? Just because I have an opinion and give you arguments-”

“I am fucking attracted to you, woman!”

You shake your head. He cannot just pull this lie and expect you to fall for it as if you are dumb. “Yeah, sure. Can you be a man for once and fucking take responsibility for your real thoughts and feelings? Just admit that you hate me!”

“Jesus Christ, are you that blind? For a woman so perceptive, you surely don’t see what’s right in front of you.”

You feel the anger take over your whole body. “Fuck you!”

“I wish! This is the whole point, the whole fucking point...”

“You want to fuck me for real?” You gasp, surprised and take a step back so you can look at him properly. He doesn’t seem to be joking.

“Deadly serious. And no matter how many times I tried to push this desire away, it just doesn’t work. You suffocate me. I imagine taking you all over my desk and couch. I imagine so many things, and I cannot focus.”

Before you can stop yourself, you slap him on the face lightly. Your palm is itching and gets red instantly, but you don’t care. As much as the info makes you happy, the context makes you super angry.

“So my team and I had to be humiliated just because you’re mad you want to get laid?”

“W-what? No!”

“No?”

“No. I deserved that,” he says referring to the slap. “But I meant what I said earlier. These are separate things.”

You cover your face with both your hands, not knowing what to say. What can you say? What should you think?

“I am sorry,” he sighs, and you hear him slowly walking away from you. “I should have said nothing. I am sorry. Please, don’t quit. You won’t have to work with me or even see me after this. Steve can take over, and you like him. I apologize not only for this, but also for my lack of… skills. I should have been more open to your ideas. And about tonight, I will wait for the HR email. I am sorry once again.”

Your head is spinning with all the things he’s just said. He wants you, but he’s also a bitch who cannot handle other opinions.

But you also want him. And you’ve wanted him despite how annoying he was. And he’s genuinely apologizing.

“Fuck it,” you whisper before going straight to him, pulling him by his tie toward you to kiss him.

He doesn’t hesitate at all, bringing his hands to your ass so you can feel each other better as he deepens the kiss instantly.

You shamelessly try to thrust your hips up a little as you let go of his tie, and his tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. His moan is low and hot, but you don’t let him breathe more than a second before you kiss him again, making sure to grab his hair and pull with force.

“Fuck me, Barnes. Fuck me right fucking now.”

He groans in your mouth once again, and you shiver.

“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fuck you so well you won’t remember or think about anything else but my cock for days.” You instantly drop your hands so you can reach for his pants. Unbuckling them isn’t hard, but the zipper gets a little stuck, so Bucky has to finish the job for you.

“God, James,” you moan at the sight. “You’re leaking.”

He’s not embarrassed by this at all. On the opposite, he grabs his briefs too and pulls them down, letting them fall along with his pants.

You’re staring, but you can’t help it. His cock is so hard, and it even twitches as he grabs it to show it to you. It’s so thick.

“For you. This is all for you.”

Without waiting for a response, he suddenly grabs your shirt by the front placket and rips it in two. The buttons fly everywhere, one almost hits him in the face, but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He’s so hot!

“Oh god, James,” you whisper, unclasping your bra before he can destroy it. It’s your best one, and you still need it.

“Yes,” he groans at the sight of your breasts, but you cannot ignore the wave of self-doubt that takes over you. They’re a little bigger than they should be for your height, so the sight is not the prettiest, in your opinion. This has always been an insecurity of yours, and even more after your last boyfriend made sure to emphasize this before you broke up. But Bucky seems fascinated. With his eyes glued to them and his mouth semi-open, he leans in, bringing his hands to both of your breasts before cupping them. You get goosebumps as he folds them eagerly, and you hear him groan when they spill over as soon as  he tries to pull them together.

“James!”

But it’s like he can’t hear you, too engrossed in watching your nipples hardening even more, and before you tell him what you wanted to, you feel his wet mouth sucking in one of your nipples.

You’re taken aback, so he uses his gloved hand to make you stop moving by placing it on your waist firmly.

He’s suckling at this point, making low whimpers as he’s looking at you.

You swear you never saw a more beautiful man in your whole life. His blue eyes are hypnotic.

“F-fuck,” you curse, bringing your fingers to his hair. You need to grab something before you fall.

He switches to the other nipple, and you feel yourself throbbing. You need his cock so much. You need his mouth... you need him to make you come. And you want to do the same to him. He’s driving you crazy.

“F-fuck me! RIGHT NOW.” You’re screaming, but he’s not surprised, rather amused as he takes his mouth off your breasts with a pop.

“Easy there, you sound quite desperate,” he giggles as if he’s just made the funniest joke ever. You are desperate.

“Fuck me or I’ll finish myself off, and you won’t be able to touch me as I do. Your choice.”

You know he doesn’t like or do ultimata, but you have no alternative. You crave to be taken on his desk as hard as he can go.

“How can I fuck you if you still have your pants on?” He asks you extremely calmly, and you’re shocked. You expected a more... intense reaction. “Earth to you?” He waves his hand when he sees you zoning out.

“You didn’t take them off.”

“I don’t take your clothes off, love.” He smirks. “I rip them, so if you want them intact, you better do it yourself.”

You nod, enjoying how raspy his voice is, and take them off without looking away from his cock. Not that he could stop staring at your breasts. His eyes are glued to your nipples. Your underwear falls, and only when you step out of the pool of clothes and finally free your legs from the high heels, he brings his hand to your pussy.

“Oh God, look at this… drenched!”

You moan, moving a little into his palm as if you’re trying to ride it. You need him so badly.

“James-”

“I know.” He smiles, spreading your lips more. “I know. So needy, my poor baby needs her cock so she can relax.”

You whimper loudly as you close your eyes. “Take me, sir. Make me your little fuck toy. Take out your frustrations. You can... you can show me how I was wrong for quitting by fucking me until I feel your cock every time I walk. I need to,” you moan again as you keep grinding onto his hand. “Come on! Show me!”

Bucky’s eyes get so grey as he suddenly pulls his hand away, making you whine. You’re about to curse him, but what he does makes you stop. He starts to take off his tie quickly, and you smile.

“Good boy.”

That remark makes his snort, and he cryptically replies:

“Ah, ah, we’ll see about that later.”

“Take off that shirt faster, and your glove, too.”

That surprises him, his eyes immediately widening, so you decide to do it yourself since he’s not fast enough.

He freezes as soon as you pull off his glove, revealing a black with golden accents  prosthetic hand.

“This is so fucking pretty, oh my God! Why do you keep this hidden?” You turn his hand around, and you gasp, realizing what you’ve just said. “I am sorry if I seem insensitive, it’s just that...”

Bucky snorts, amused, not hurt, which makes you feel like you can breathe again. The last thing you wanted was to bother him.

“You got a kink for my arm now?”

“You talk too much,” you murmur at the same time you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. Your hands are trembling.

When he’s finally naked, you let out a whimper, instantly reaching to touch his chest with both of your hands.

“You shave,” you say, surprised.

“Come on, love.” He smiles. “Touch my arm while you still can.”

You don’t question what he means by that, not wanting to worry too much. You expected this to be a one-time thing anyway, so you better enjoy every second of it. The arm is seamlessly integrated into his shoulder, and it's colder than the rest of his skin.

You trace a gold pattern all the way from his shoulder to his hand.

“I have a kink now,” you giggle when you see the sides of his neck getting pink.

“Well, I hope you have this kink, too, because…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reaches for the tie he had on today and smiles. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“W-what?”

“Hands behind your back.”

“You want to tie my hands?” You ask, taken aback by his demand.

“Did you try it before? Do you hate it?”

No, you didn’t try, but it doesn’t sound bad, surprisingly.

You usually hate not being in control, but it’s Bucky, and as annoying as he might be as your boss, you trust him. Plus, you quit after all, you should enjoy this as much as possible. The thought of him tying you up is really sexy for some reason, so you simply turn around and bring your hands together above your ass.

He doesn’t hesitate and quickly makes a knot.

“Too tight?”

“No,” you whisper. It’s not tight at all.

“You can tell me to stop any time, okay?” He wraps his hands around your waist and turns you toward him. “I’ll stop immediately.”

You nod, trying to get used to not being able to raise your hands.

“Words, please.”

“Yes, James.”

“Good girl.”

You’d lie if you said it doesn’t turn you on like crazy. You’ve been indirectly fighting with him for so long without getting any kind of approval or praise for your work. He made you angry and stressed more times than you could count, but you still respected him. You wanted his approval and you craved him...

You got yourself off thinking about him, you imagined choking him out of anger, but then it turning into a completely different thing. And it feels surreal this is actually happening, and he finally calls you a good girl.

“Are you clean? Anything-”

“I always used a condom, and I do checkups every six months. I assume the same about you.”

You nod, not bothering to tell him you don’t remember the last time you had sex, all thanks to him and his impossible to please ass.

“Do you have a condom?” You ask, moving closer to him again.

“In the car,” he curses, but before you can tell him that you can try without one since you are on the pill, he speaks again. “Wait!”

You giggle as you watch him run out of the office with his ass wiggling. No way he goes to his car naked, right?

You jump on top of his desk, pushing a few docs on the floor with your knee. It’s quite difficult because your hands are tied, but you don’t mind. You wait excitedly for his return just to tease him, but you’re speechless as soon as you see him unwrapping the condom package with his teeth before he quickly rolls it on.

“Won’t the neighbor mind?”

“What he doesn’t know,” he grabs your legs as he speaks. “Won’t hurt him. You’re not gonna run your mouth now, are you?” There is something about his patronizing tone that makes you hornier. Maybe because you know you’ve been on his mind so much he couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Why? You want to keep my mouth occupied with your cock?”

You don’t expect to be turned around on the table instead, with your ass in the air. Holy fuck!

“How about I keep this pretty wet pussy of yours occupied, hmm?”

You close your eyes when you feel his cock at your entrance before he finally pushes in.

He’s crazy, he must be crazy if he thinks you can take all of his cock like this.

“B-Bucky!” You arch your back without realizing, fighting against the material of his tie so you can get free. The impulse to touch his back is absolutely overwhelming, and the coldness of his left hand drives you crazy.

“What happened?” His other hand goes up until it’s in your hair. “You got nothing else to say? Are you already cock drunk?”

“More!” you whimper. “I can take more of you, please.”

“Ah? So greedy for my cock.”

“Need it deeper, James. Need you to move faster.”

You don’t care how desperate your voice is or if you’re pathetic. “I just wanna be stretched open until I cry. P-please.”

You don’t realize he is holding his breath until you hear him exhaling loudly against your back before kissing the same spot.

“You wanna be fucked like you’re my good little toy, baby? You want-”

He stops speaking when you moan, trying to move your hands so you can touch him and push him deeper inside you by grabbing his ass.

That hot ass…

“Want you, sir. Please, make me a mess.”

And he does. He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but try again to touch him.

“Just like that,” you cry out when your face hits the desk more forcefully than before. You can sense Bucky’s hesitation so you shake your head. “I’m fine, I’m... k-keep going.”

He doesn’t stop, he even goes faster yet somehow deeper than before, a combination you’re not used to, that makes you feel like he’s splitting you in half. Neither of you can properly talk anymore. You can hear him cursing and saying your name along with: your pussy’s drowning me, so wet, think you can t-take it harder, but there is a long break after every word so he can thrust back inside you. You can’t even call him James, your voice is so hoarse, and he’s so deep you cannot even breathe.

You don’t need anything more the second he pulls your hair harder than you’d ever expect. Before you know what’s happening, the pleasure explodes inside you, making you scream. You don’t even realize that’s your voice at first, too focused on trying to prolong this feeling as you push your ass back frustrated you cannot grab his thighs, while he keeps thrusting inside you. His balls hit your clit, and you moan, a little sensitive.

“Sir, please, c-come,” you whisper, turning your head to the side on the desk. “Come for your little fuck toy. U-use me.”

You flinch, shocked, when you feel a light slap on your ass all of a sudden, but it doesn’t hurt at all. Quite the opposite. You don’t have time to say something about it, though, because Bucky’s already burying himself inside you again as deep as he can, and you moan at the same time he does.

“J-James...”

He pulls your hair even harder while he comes, groaning your name and a low fuck, that almost makes you giggle.

“Jesus...” It’s the only warning you get before you feel his chest on your back.

“Barnes, you’re heavy!”

His laugh is adorable, but he’s indeed heavy, plus you also have your hands tied. When he finally moves, you hop off the desk, almost falling since your knees are weak. Now you can feel your thighs aching too. But it was all worth it.

Quickly, Bucky unties you, without saying a word, which only makes you more nervous.

“Thanks,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. Then, you watch him take off the condom and place it on top of one of the papers you knocked over with your knee earlier.

After wiping his hands on his thighs, he grabs your wrists gently, making you almost moan at the feel of his cold hand. You’re not hurt, but they’re quite red, probably from the times you tried to get free.

“Gonna buy some cream.”

You shake your head. “No need, I am sure I have something for this.” You try to sound as casual as you can, not wanting to be clingy in his eyes even after you quit. Even after this. “Can you hand me my underwear and pants, please?”

Bucky freezes for a second, but he still gives them to you. “Are you back to hating me?”

“What?” You ask as you start to get dressed. You don’t have the blouse, but your coat is warm. You won’t freeze.

“Why are you so cold now? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything wrong?” His concerned voice and look surprise you. You know he is nice, but you didn’t expect him to be attentive after.

“No, you didn’t. I assumed this is,” you wave around when you finish zipping up your pants. “Just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”

He doesn’t laugh.

“I told you, you’ve been on my mind for so long. Why would I... and even if it was just a one-time thing, why would I treat you like trash? Especially since we work together.”

“Worked,” you correct him before he hands you his shirt. You raise your eyebrow surprised.

“I’m not gonna help you get dressed, Barnes. You’re a big boy.”

“Put it on, it’s freezing.”

“I have my coat,” you protest, but he won’t take no for an answer, and you know it.

“On.”

“Fine!”

He helps you with it since your hands are, for some reason, still shaking. “Look, I was gonna invite you over to my place, but if I make you feel uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to see me...”

You can’t help but raise your eyebrows.

“Really?”

“We have some things to discuss, and I have a bath to run for you.”

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as he finishes buttoning the shirt. “You want me to sign a contract to fuck you again?”

“Ha, ha. No.” He leans in a bit to kiss your forehead. “We have many things to talk about that don’t involve a contract.”

“Yeah? Like what?” You start to collect the documents from the floor. “The process of writing my resignation letter?”

You hear Bucky puff behind you. “You’re not quitting.”

“No?” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Who’s gonna stop me?��

“Me.”

“Hmm,” you whisper playfully before placing his papers on the desk. “How?”

“Let’s get home and we’ll see about that.”

[marvelsmylife]

Can you feel my heart breaking? Part two

Pairing: Azriel x reader 

Plot: five months after Azriel discoveres you are his mate, the night court pays the day court a visit. What happens when Azriel discovers another male is making his intentions known that he wants to court you?

A/n I’m contemplating writing a part three (including smut) let me know if you guys are interested in it.

Part One

Acotar Masterlist

Send in Requests

It took everyone in the inner circle to physically stop Azriel from going after you when you left for the day court. After revealing that you already knew Azriel was your mate, Rhysand explained that you asked for some space. Azriel listened in horror as Rhysand detailed what you endured for the past year and a half. He couldn’t believe you bottled up all the pain you felt while you watched him love someone else.

Poor Elain started apologizing for being part of the reason you left and swore nothing ever happened between her and Azriel. Rhysand reassured her that you held no ill will towards her and you left to clear your head but that you would be back in a few months.

Rhysand begged Azriel to give you space while you process your emotions. “Rhys, please. I need to see her. I need to tell her that I know that I am her mate and that I want this mating bond.”

“No,” Rhysand said firmly: “You are also prohibited from traveling to the day court until she lets me know she’s ready”.

Azriel didn’t give up though, he sent out his spies into the day court and they gave him updates on your well-being. Every night they would report the same thing: you were fine, you were safe, and you were still staying with Helion despite your family living nearby. Over time, they would report that you were smiling more and having pleasant conversations with the people around the villages you would visit.

That brought a smile to the spymaster's face. He remembered how kind you were to everyone who crossed your path; even towards people who didn’t deserve your kindness.

One day though, one of Azriel’s spies informed him that there was a new general in the day court who had taken a liking towards you. They informed Azriel that this new general is actively seeking you out and gifting you small presents to win you over.

Panic started to take over Azriel’s body at the news. It never crossed his mind that someone else would try to court you while you were away. 

Azriel pleaded with Rhysand to visit the day court so he could see you. He told him what his spies had informed him and he was worried you might accept a courtship. Rhysand wanted to respect your wishes but he couldn’t bear to see his brother's desperate state anymore “ok, ok I’ll contact Helion and request if we can visit. But let me make one thing clear” Rhysand warned “You better hope whatever you have plan works out. I need y/n back home with us”.

Helion accepts Rhysand’s requests and extends an invitation to Rhysand and his inner circle to stay with him.

Azriel was on edge when they finally arrived at the day court and waited for you to come down and greet them. While they waited for you, Helion thanked Rhysand for sending you to him because in his words “you brought so much happiness to him and his people”.

Rhysand responded with “That’s why we love her so much. She’s like our own personal ball of sunshine. I don’t know what we would do without her.”

“You would survive” you teased and caught everyone’s attention “but it’s nice to know I make that much of an impact on you guys”.

Time seemed to stop for Azriel as he watched you make your way downstairs. That was until the unnamed general appeared by your side and whispered something in your ear. 

Jealousy surged through Azriel as he watched you playfully roll your eyes and giggle at whatever the general had said. “Control your anger,” Rhysand warned: “Do not jeopardize our alliance with the day court over his comments. Y/n has no interests in the general”.

Right at that moment you looked over at Azriel and sent him a concerning look. You were about to ask if something was wrong when Helion announced that it was time for dinner and guided everyone into the dining area.

Throughout dinner, Azriel couldn’t help but glance over at you. A smile appeared on his face as he took in your beauty. He couldn’t believe he completely overlooked you and was pining after the wrong female. He wanted to desperately tell you in front of everyone, especially in front of the general that had also been eye fucking you throughout dinner that he knew you were his mate.

He didn’t though. He knew it would be foolish to announce it in front of everyone and probably cause you to be embarrassed. He needed to do it when you were alone. 

Fortunately for him, that opportunity came sooner than he thought. “I’ll be right back, I need to use the washroom” you excused yourself and left the table. Azriel took the opportunity and excused himself as well before trailing after you.

Azriel patiently waited outside for you. His shadows went wild with excitement when you finally exited and quickly darted towards you. “Oh hello,” you squealed at the shadows running up and down your body.

“They missed you” Azriel explained and got your attention.

“Azriel” you whispered “what are you doing here? Why aren’t you eating with everyone else?”

“I needed to talk to you in private” Azriel replied and started making you feel nervous about what he might want to talk about. “Why didn’t you tell me you were my mate?” Azriel asked with desperation in his hazel eyes.

The question took you by surprise but you decided to answer it honestly: “Because you were in love with Elain,” you replied: “You were so in love that you questioned the cauldron's decision to make Lucien Elain's mate.” Azriel felt his heart stop at your explanation. He didn’t know that anyone heard his argument with Rhysand months ago about him thinking the cauldron made a mistake. “I thought if you found out I was your mate you would think the cauldron definitely made a mistake and that I was intended to be with Lucien and you with Elain. I just want you to be happy and if that means being with Elain then you have my blessing. But if you do proceed with courting her, I will be permanently moving to the day court.” You tried your hardest not to cry before continuing: “I can’t bear to be under the same roof when it happens”.

Sadness rippled through the bond and Azriel hated the fact that he was the reason behind it. “I don’t want Elain; I want you” Azriel pleaded. “I can’t live another second without you by my side.”

“It’s just the mating bond” you replied “It’ll fade away over time.”

“No it won’t” Azriel got closer and cupped your face “Do you need me to get on my knees for you? I’ll drop this instant if it means you forgive my actions. Listen, you don’t have to accept the mating bond right now if you don’t want to, but please allow me to show you how much I love you.”

Every part of you wanted to say no, you just got in a good place mentally and you didn’t want to have it destroyed again. Another part of you felt the desperation through the bond and wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around Azriel. Letting out a shaky breath, you whispered: “Please don’t break my heart.”

Azriel took that as an invitation to lean in and kiss you. You felt yourself become one with Azriel as he deepened the kiss and started moving his hands up and down your body: “I’ll guard it with my life” Azriel replied; his lips hovering over your own “Thank you for trusting me with it”.

Just as Azriel was about to slip his hands under your dress, a loud cough caused you to pull away. Azriel looked over his shoulder and spotted the general glaring at the two of you: “My high lord is wondering if you will be joining us for dessert or are you two going to fuck instead.”

“Tell Helion that we will not be joining you guys,” you replied before looking up at Azriel: “Tell him that my mate and I are going to be in my room for the rest of the night.”

Azriel gave the general a wicked grin at your response before being pulled upstairs to your room. 

@willowpains

[seivsite]

BRUSHSTROKES OF MAGIC.

includes: lyney x fem!reader. painter!reader, fluff, may be ooc lyney, painter and her magician muse — wc: 591

You had finally secured tickets to Lyney and Lynette’s captivating Magic Show.

After putting in hard work through small art commissions and assisting others, your perseverance paid off. Luckily, you found yourself seated in the second row, enjoying a perfect view of the entire stage. As the lights dimmed, a spotlight illuminated the enchanting magicians.

“Welcome to Lyney and Lynette’s Magic Show!” Lyney exclaimed, his arms wide open in a welcoming gesture.

The performance unfolded before your eyes, blurring the line between reality and fantasy.

The show concluded with a burst of applause, whistles, and amazed cheers filling the room. Lyney and Lynette took their bows, expressing gratitude to the audience before exiting the stage.

While others started to leave the theatre, you remained lost in your thoughts, unable to tear yourself away.

You noticed Lyney’s occasional glances in your direction, but you brushed them off, assuming he was merely engaging with the audience. Your hands moved instinctively, retrieving a small paper and a worn pencil that you carried everywhere. Swiftly, you sketched the scene, capturing the magicians as the focal point.

Unaware of another presence, you snapped out of your trance when a red rose materialised before you.

Your eyes widened at the sight, then lifted to meet the culprit—a mischievous grin adorning his face.

“Well, M’lady, perhaps we should step outside before we find ourselves locked in here,” he suggested, tucking the flower gently into your hair. Extending his hand, he invited you to join him.

You accepted his hand, and he turned to his sister, who stood waiting.

“Took you quite a while,” she remarked, her expression unchanging.

“Apologies, Lynette. It seems M’lady was deeply absorbed in thought,” he responded.

“Please stop addressing me like that,” you murmured, your cheeks tinged with a blush.

“Apologies again! I haven’t had the pleasure of knowing your name. I’m Lyney. This is my sister, Lynette, and you are...?” He walked alongside you as the three of you departed the theatre.

“(Name), pleased to make your acquaintance,” you replied.

From that day forward, your bond with Lyney grew remarkably strong, much to Lynette’s amusement as she shook her head at her brother’s persistent attempts to win you over.

In a meadow bursting with vibrant blooms, Lyney stood amidst the flowers, becoming both your muse and a devoted spectator. As your brush danced gracefully across the canvas, each stroke seemed to weave a rich tapestry of emotions.

“Are you almost finished, M’lady?” Lyney’s voice broke the tranquil air as he noticed your momentary pause.

“Hmm, just a few more minutes,” you replied, urging him to remain where he stood.

When the art piece finally took shape, it radiated colours and beauty that surpassed mere brushwork. Lyney was thoroughly impressed, unable to contain himself as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, prompting a delightful blush from you.

“Thank you for immortalising me in your art, M’lady. I shall treasure it,” Lyney expressed, his tone sincere.

“It’s no big deal,” you replied with a smile. Lyney settled beside the portrayal of yourself, gazing at you with unwavering attention.

“Is something wrong?” you questioned, perplexed by his sudden change in demeanour.

“No, it’s just that something has been occupying my thoughts,” he confessed, his fond gaze fixed on you.

Your head tilted in curiosity, awaiting an explanation.

“Despite my belief in the wonder of my magic tricks, they pale in comparison to your beauty and talent. I’m afraid, M’lady, that you’ve stolen my heart. So, will you do me the honour of accepting this responsibility?”

NOTES. he’s cute i like the idea of painter!reader w lyney whos a magician, also my second genshin work weee. kinda rushed this so whatever plot i have is a bit wonky, maybe.

TAG LIST. @yanqingisim

LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! ‹3

[didyoulookforme]

need you tonight

part of give me a moment (aka stylist au as briefly described in this tag)

warning: 18+, smut. probably grammatical errors, typos.

au masterlist here

-----

“sorry—‘m sorry”

you’re pretty sure those are some of the only words that stumble past his lips as you go down on him. perhaps an apology for his ring getting tangled in your hair, trying to keep you close. but to be honest, the more cynical part of you hopes it's pure regret for fucking someone else just hours before.

it was not strange for you to crave a nicotine hit at this time, more often than not stepping out the bus to smoke a cigarette or two prior to calling it a night, that first inhale always making your head buzz a little as the all-too-familiar warmth runs through your limbs, a much welcome sensation to try leave the tiredness behind.

every day was like clockwork. bus arrives at the venue. stage and lighting are assembled. band soundchecks. you have a quick dinner. then it's time for him. after all, it's what you're here to do, work as matty's own personal stylist during the tour.

you had no clue luck had finally struck when you opened those dms earlier this year.

(13:43) trumanblack: hey (13:43) trumanblack: i found your profile via my friend (13:44) trumanblack: i really like your style n you look pretty cool

(13:58) trumanblack: sorry if this sounds creepy. promise i'm a real human tho (13:58) trumanblack: x

you didn’t recognize him. however from a swift scroll through the feed, you gathered that his name was matty. apparently the front man of a seemingly popular band with a fanbase head-over-heels lusting for them.

mostly him, though.

you couldn't help but gaze at his lanky frame and pale skin adorned with ink, zooming in on certain posts to try decipher what they were. he definitely had a point of view when it came to dressing himself—sometimes a bit messy and chaotic, but for the most part pleasing to the eye, a quality you appreciated given your line of work. his seemingly playful demeanour across photos made it seem like he was perhaps younger than you, this time a google search confirming that, in fact, he was born three years later. april 1989.

countless press photos appeared under his name and you spent the next half hour swiping back and forth between articles, finding him intriguing enough and giving you the surge of confidence to respond.

and that's basically why you're leaning against this tour bus now. the friendly banter with a stranger led you to travel the world and do what you enjoy most. the fancy clothes. the colourful glitz. the wild after parties. this stuff that you always dreamed about was somehow now your own reality that you often had to pinch yourself to ensure you weren't just passed out cold on the sofa back home.

however, this almost too good to be true gig also led you to fall for a guy, the same one whose collar you straighten almost every night.

the most fucking cliché story. some assistant falling for her boss just months after being hired. it actually makes you feel sickeningly stupid, embarrassed. still you can't seem to stop digging yourself deeper into a hole with every hour you spend caring for him, not being made any better by matty being nothing but affectionate towards you behind closed doors.

you know he’s the reason your nicotine addiction has increased tenfold, always finding yourself alone at this hour enveloped in smoke, part of you still wanting to pretend you do so to numb out the sleepless nights. took you a while to finally admit you did it as an attempt to cloud out any thought of him.

tonight’s really no different.

you’re not sure how much time has passed, but it’s enough for the cold to start settling on your skin. perhaps it’s your queue to stop and go back in. you snub out your cigarette, watching the red embers fade just as a car rounds the corner. it halts to a stop only a few meters away, and you catch the faint sound of a door creaking open, followed by the murmur of voices filling the night air.

then you hear it. that unmistakable high pitched laugh that can pull you awake in a single second. him.

and, of course. you immediately know why.

you’d learned pretty early on this was a common end to the routine: matty picks up a girl at the gig, goes fucks her somewhere, and has her drop him off right after.

reminds you of the number of red and purple bruises you often cover up before his show. it wasn't rocket science figuring out the cause, yet he never really addresses it, choosing silence and averting his gaze as your fingertips dab foundation on tender skin, temporarily hiding any remains of nights prior.

you didn't even notice your eyes had closed. not until the car door slams shut, jerking them open just in time to see him blow a kiss in her direction. your heart fractures at the sweet gesture, but only hurts for a second before he's walking towards you, his stupid wide grin mending it better.

"didn't expect to see you out here.”

open button-up untucked. blazer over his shoulder. dark curls frizzy and disheveled. everything making it crystal clear he's just slept with someone else and still not you.

"only making sure you make it back alright so i can tuck you in." of course, you wish that were the case.

it's only a few seconds until he settles next to you, leaning over to kiss your cheek. soft lips gently brushing against your skin. the way he always greets you—but only when no one's watching.

"aren't you sweet, then?"

"trying my best." given the circumstances, it's pretty much all you can do.

he pulls out his beat-up cigarette box, flicking it open and offering you one. you decline, showing him the smothered tip of your own before finally tossing it aside.

"guess it must've been a pretty good time today," you lick the pad of your thumb before rubbing a lipstick mark off his jaw. it’s always ruby red or deep maroon. those same tones which he'll compliment you on. a similar shade you left on his lips the only time your mouth had been on his.

you finish cleaning the stains off his skin, matty murmuring a soft ‘thank you’ for having done so. it’s your turn to kiss his temple. “‘tis my job, you know? making sure you look good.” you should be mad, upset, have some sort of negative emotion. instead, you can’t help but have your heart intermittently flutter when he returns a sheepish smile, his arm wrapping around your shoulders to pull you close.

neither of you say much, but that’s alright. you rest your head on the crook of his neck, noticing how nice it feels. how nice he feels. you see the chipped nail polish on his fingers. the wrinkled fabric of his flowered shirt. the dark hair down his torso. the unbuckled belt at his waist. it’s only then that jealousy creeps itself back in and suddenly your shoes seem all that more interesting than the man standing by your side.

"why do you do it, matty?" the sweetness of your voice never fails to mask the envy you actually feel. or at least you hope it does.

"hmm?"

"the sleeping around.” you finally lift your head to look at him, surprised that his pretty eyes were already on you. the toothy smirk is gone, though, replaced by a thin, expressionless line at his lips. he doesn’t owe you an explanation. you know that. thus why you’re surprised when he actually starts to talk.

"dunno, really.” he lights up another cigarette and you notice as he gets lost in his mind. “i mean, it’s kinda difficult to say no to sex or a blowjob when they’re literally throwing themselves at you.” he seemingly tries to joke, but you don’t have time for funny right at this moment.

instead you wonder if it’s actually that easy.

“let me do it, then.”

“so—sorry?” he chokes mid-drag.

“let me give you a blowjob just like those other girls do. just like she did,” you point at the ghost of that green car from before, “ just tonight.”

it’s like his face cannot figure out which expression to land on, flipping between confusion, surprise, and something else that reads between need and desire.

“what the fuck?” his voice is shaky and it stings when he pushes you aside, yet, he doesn’t try hard to put much distance between you two so it’s not difficult to invade his space, standing right in front of him until your face is a breath away from his. large, calloused hands grasp your shoulders tight, halting you from inching closer.

“don’t.”

“what’s the difference between them and myself, then?” seems like a simple enough question to you. “why can they have you and not me?”

but he has no answer, at least not one that he can properly voice. his hold on you starts to lessen, perhaps giving you some permission to let you do whatever you want.

you bring your hands up to his and pull them away, kissing his knuckles before placing them on your waist. an almost incoherent ‘fuck’ leaves his lips, and, as if on cue, his head falls back willingly, giving you the space to kiss his neck. the faint smell of her still on him.

“please let me,” you whisper against his skin.

it’s not even a question at this point.

his fingers dig into your hips as you look at him once more, now noticing a mixture of lust and care in those almond coloured eyes. for a minute there, you get lost in them, admiring how his pupils dilate when your hands find the button of his pants, and how they shrink back as you finally undo the zipper. you don’t want to waste any more time—you’ve already waited too long—so you slide your palm down his pants to grab his half-hard cock, his eyes instantly rolling to the back of his head when you wrap your fingers around him.

“is this okay?”

you take the buck of his hips as a confirmation, giving you the courage to spread the precum along his length. he feels nice. having him in your hand seems just right and you only hope that he won’t regret this when he wakes up next morning in bed.

tonight is your turn to suck on the skin alongside his jaw, the thought of having to cover your own marks making you smile.

“fuck, baby.”

you’re not sure if he even noticed that sweet name leave his mouth, but you like the sound of it, and it’s all it takes for you to drop to your knees, dragging his pants and boxers down just enough to pull out his dick.

you look up at him once more, his left hand coming to tangle on your head, his other loosely holding his cigarette, almost done and fully forgotten. you kiss his tip, your gaze still not leaving his, thoroughly enjoying yourself as he bites his bottom lip each time your thumb hits that spot under the head of his cock. his scent is almost too much to bear so you take him in one go, feeling his cock twitch inside your mouth. it doesn’t take long before he’s fully hard and hitting the back of your throat.

the plastic taste of latex is still on his skin. a sad reminder that you weren’t his first tonight. that maybe you are an afterthought. just another girl who he uses to make himself come. but at least it means you get to have him even if it’s just this one time.

matty. that’s all that’s on your mind. once again. somewhat difficult to not think about him when you’re sucking him off, those heavenly sounds coming from his mouth making your own slick drip down your leg.

you pull away to catch your breath, using your hand to keep stroking him, pleasantly surprised when he pulls on your hair each time your red fingernails graze the underside of his cock. you do it again and again until he breaks and fucks your hand, apologizing for not being able to help himsel. it’s a sight you’ll commit to memory as long as you’re alive.

now that you’ve had a taste, it’s only so long you can go without having your lips around him. and that’s what you do, take him again, hands urging his hips to fuck your mouth. to fuck himself senseless in the hopes that you’ll be the one he turns to when he needs somebody else. he doesn’t deny your request, throwing away the wasted cigarette to guide you, setting a pace that allows him to stay steady on his feet.

purely drunk on him, you're barely aware when his phone vibrates in his pocket, matty muttering 'sorry' before grabbing and letting it drop onto the grass at your side. nosiness always gets the best of you, so you can't help but glance down, catching sight of a text from an unsaved number asking if he could fuck her again tomorrow.

you feel his hips falter. he knows you've seen it.

“’m sorry.”

this time it's a mix between a cry and a whimper. perhaps he did feel bad. perhaps some part of him did care about you in the way that you needed him to.

you reach back to place your hand on top of his, making him push your head further into him, to thrust into you until tears pool at your lashes just as he spills hard and fast down your throat. his taste overtakes every cell of your being as you swallow, feeling him soften against your tongue before you reluctantly pull away.

you didn’t even realize your knees were so sore until you stand up, not wasting a second to ask him is he's going to see her again the following night.

"do you want me to?" his thumb wipes away some of his cum off the corner of your lip. you reach out to suck it, slowly shaking your head in response.

he laughs nervously as his mouth clashes against yours, stealing both the air from your lungs. this wasn't the first time you’d kissed, but this wasn’t like before. the way he quietly moans against your lips. the softness of his fingers resting on your face. the crinkle at the corner of his eyes when he pulls back.

"can i see you tomorrow, then?"

you could’ve sworn you heart stopped. can you truly believe those words after watching him leave you behind all those nights? the soft circles his thumbs draw on your skin do feel sincere, the reassurance you need to perhaps let him in, give him a chance even though you know it’s a slippery one.

it’s your turn to brush your thumb against his mouth, slowly pulling at the bottom lip and watching it bounce back up into place. you kiss him one last time before confirming 'okay', immediately turning to finally head back in. not wanting to linger for too long in case he changes his mind.

you catch his reflection on the mirror, noticing as he tucks himself in, and it’s that slight smile on his face which keeps you awake for hours on end.

-----

for this lovely anon here. thank you for the inspo :) <3

[eetherealgoddess]

ꨄFavorite Professorꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere College Au

❦Never give a low score to a delinquent❦

Sanzu Haruchiyo & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread!

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

Japanese language is red

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There will be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Favorite Professor

Y/n meets the stoic gaze that doesn’t match the hostile aura of the male standing at her desk.

“What is this?” Her student known as Haitani Rindo asks, shoving his phone in her face as she eyes the screen. She leans over her desk as she crosses her legs, interlocking her hands.

“Ah yes, your midterm exam? I’ve actually wanted to talk to you about your dropping score, Mr. Haitani. I’m concerned as you used to be one of the highest graded students along with your friend Mr. Akashi. What happened?”

“What do you mean what happened? Obviously, your grading skills are lacking.” He states calmly. Her eyes widen slightly at the deflection before returning to her normal gaze out of professionalism.

“I assure you that my years of schooling and even being accepted in this profession was not in vain. It’s not my place to say, but usually when situations like this occur, there’s a distraction going on outside of the classroom.” She responds, only for him to glare at her before crossing his arms. She sighs.

“Mr. Haitani, the only thing you can do is try to achieve a higher grade with the assignments and final. I also have extra credit discussion boards posted online for your submission.”

He only narrows his eyes at her before walking away from the desk, the chill in her spine leaving along with the energy that follows him. She breathes out a sigh before returning to her laptop, completing her work.

Rin walks side by side with his brother and Sanzu as they head to the cafeteria.

“Didn’t go well?.” Ran chuckles as he observes his brother’s body language. He ignores him as they walk through the doors, irritation engulfing him as he thinks about the professor’s words.

“Wanna do something about it?” Sanzu smirks. The younger Haitani side glances at his friend, giving a thought to what those words could mean.

The next day, Y/n sits at her desk that morning, eyeing her screen as she types on the keyboard. She halts her movements as she sees the younger Haitani walking in with a coffee cup in hand.

“Hello, Professor. I wanted to apologize for my outburst yesterday. I was disappointed with the grade and took it out on you. Please accept this coffee as my gratitude for your leniency on my actions.” He says with a sincere look as he hands her the coffee. Her eyes widen at the gesture as she takes the coffee.

“Thank you for that, Mr. Haitani. That’s very mature of you.” She responds smiling as she sips from the cup. He nods, a smirk forming as he sits in his seat, to her confusion though she ignores it and minds her business.

Thirty minutes later, she finishes the coffee, eyeing the clock and seeing that she has an hour and a half before she lectures her first class. She’s usually at the university about two to three hours before to create her lectures and make sure everything is set in place for her classes, which is why the coffee was a nice surprise. His presence wasn’t so bad besides the chilling feeling of eyes observing her, but thats probably just her imagination.

A few minutes passed and sweat began to form as she started breathing heavily. A heated feeling builds in her core as her body begins to tingle. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as her body tenses. Wetness forms as she squeezes her legs together, her clit gaining a heartbeat as her nipples harden. Her hands start trembling as anxious thoughts take over.

What’s going on? What’s happening to me?

“How was your coffee, Professor?” Rin smirks as he walks from his seat, two of her students walking in to the room before they stand in front of her desk, one holding a baton.

“What is this? What did you do to me?” She questions with shaky words.

Before anything else is said, Sanzu sits at one of the seats in the auditorium closest to her desk as he props the phone up, yet doesn’t hit record until it’s the correct time.

Ran walks behind her desk, swinging her over his shoulder as Rin shoves everything off of her desk. She hits Ran’s back as she kicks her feet, growling curses as she’s suddenly dropped on the desk resulting in pain for her bottom and backside.

Both men force her on her stomach as her feet hit the ground.

“We should’ve drugged her with more than the aphrodisiac.” Sanzu states as he crosses a leg, his face in his palms as his elbows meet the table.

“We need her awake for this to work.” Ran responds, lazily smiling as he pulls her skirt up, showing her panties. She gasps as she attempts to break free from Rin’s hold on her back and wrists.

“If you keep struggling, we’ll have to knock you out for a bit. Do you want that?” Rin asks, smirking at her distressed state. She shakes her head as she attempts to relax her shaking body.

“Th-this! Whatever this is, it’s not okay! The dean…!”

She screams as a painful sensation forms after a smacking sound. She turns her head back to see what landed on her ass to cause so much agony. Her eyes widen when she sees Ran pulling back the baton before slamming it against her bottom once more, resulting in another shriek. Rin removes her sweater as he balls it up and shoves it into her mouth. Tears fell from her eyes as she could feel the throbbing skin bruising. He crouches to meet her face to face, smiling as he licks his lips.

“Now, Y/n. You should be thanking Sanzu because that stimulant is going to help us make this a lot easier for you.” Her eyes shut as another yelp leaves her lips, muffled by the cloth as the baton meets her aching ass again.

“Look at him and say thank you.” He grabs her head, turning it to face the smirking pink haired man who waves back. She doesn’t respond, too humiliated to comply. Another smack from the object causes her to grunt as more tears fall from the pain.

“Thank you!” She muffled before her head was turned back to the Haitani.

“This is how it’s gonna go. We’re going to take this video of you, then so you don’t get caught seducing us, you’re going to fix my grade. If not, then kiss this job and your reputation goodbye.”

She stares at him wide eyed, disbelief from the cruel behavior he’s revealing. He stands from his position, unbuckling his pants as he reveals his erection. He pulls the sweater out of her mouth and motions for her to begin. Ran pulls her panties to the side, having already pulled his girth out, readying it to her entrance. Her legs clench, conflicting emotions occurring as arousal prowls yet the situation at hand being unfortunate for her job title.

“Time is ticking, Professor.” Sanzu taunts as he presses the record button. Reluctantly she opens her mouth as Rin eases in until her lips reach his base, gagging slightly as he adjusts. Ran pushes in, shoving his erection all the way to the base. He grabs her hips as Rin holds her head, beginning to throat fuck her as saliva drips from her mouth, mixing in with the precum.

“I always knew, since the first time you walked in, you’d be good at nothing but taking dick. You suck at grading.” Deciding that they can edit whatever they want out later, he taunts her, grunting as he accelerates his hips, thrusting hard as his tip hits the back of her throat each time, her eyes squeezed shut. His blonde hair flipping against his neck as he moves.

She releases a moan she was holding back as Ran moves faster against her backside, skin smacking skin as his cock hits her cervix. The shame in enabling the behavior hitting her as she cries out once more, the aphrodisiac causing her to feel weighed down by the pleasure, her legs clenching as the front of her body aches from her position over the desk.

“Wow Professor, you're really sucking me in. Is this what you wanted? To take advantage of your students?” Ran chuckles as he continues his assault, breathing heavily as well as a few moans slipping.

Sanzu, with the phone still recording in his hand, walks closer to get a better angle of the view, biting his lip as he ignores the tightness in his pants. Observing the distressed yet aroused woman as her body rocks from the contact with the younger men. He’s already gotten enough footage to show the dean if needed, but he decided to continue recording for their own personal endeavors.

“You look like you were made for this.” He states, as he watches her mouth engulfed with cock and saliva mixed with semen, her pussy full and thighs shaking as Ran squeezes her hips.

“I’m gonna cum.” Rin hissed as he thrusts harder, releasing after the last two. Ran follows not long after as he pressed against her g-spot, the pressure causing her to come undone all over his cock. Finally, Sanzu ends the video as they all get up, leaving her on the desk.

“You better get ready for your class, Y/n.” Sanzu says before they readjust their pants and walk out. Ran stops before he leaves, turning to face her.

“Change my grade while you’re at it, yeah?” He then walks out. She lays there breathing hard as she slowly pushes herself off the desk, tears falling as she begins to sob.

“Fuck.” She whispers as she throws her sweater on and pulls down her skirt, walking to the bathroom to fix herself up and leave the building.

When she’s done washing her face and wiping down her legs, she walks to the teacher’s lounge, claiming to be sick and having thrown up so she can be excused for the day. Succeeding she reaches her car, immediately going on the grading system’s site through her phone and changing both of the Haitani’s grades without having to touch Sanzu’s considering his already high score. Her forehead leans against the wheel as she stares numbly into space, pulling back as she moves her gear shift stick to reverse out of the parking lot and head to her apartment.

After a few days of staying home, she decides to resign, too sick from the memories of the dreadful event that took place. She hides herself from the world as she scrubs her body till it's raw routinely, disgusted with herself as she stays in her room. Suddenly, she’s torn from her thoughts as she hears a knock at her door.

She walks from her bed and opens the door. She gasps before attempting to slam it back closed, a hand preventing it from shutting.

“You thought you could just leave?” The younger Haitani hissed as he stepped into her home, his older brother and friend walking in as well.

“Get the fuck out of my house!” She exclaims, angry at the audacity. Sanzu shuts and locks the door behind them as Ran shoves his hands into his pockets, staring amused at the reaction she’s giving.

“What do you want?” She growls as she moves, backing away from them while they glare at her like a predator stares at its prey.

“You’re not quitting.” He states.

“How is any of that your business? Get out! Matter of fact, how the hell did you find my apartment?”

“Not until you agree to get your job back. Tell them you made a mistake.”

“This literally makes no fucking sense! What is wrong with you? I changed your score, what is the problem now?”

“The problem is that you’re trying to run. When you were bent over that desk, you were claimed as our slut. You can’t go anywhere.” Sanzu responds with a stoic expression, her disbelieving how serious they’re being at the moment.

“What the fuck are you talking about? What, so you got a crush or something? News flash, I’m nobody’s. You got that video and you got what you wanted so get out of my house.” She responds angrily, crossing her arms as she grits her teeth.

“That’s alright, you look like you were made to be a star anyway.” Ran states as he smirks. She glares in response.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Don’t play dumb Professor, I know you’re smarter than that.” Sanzu says, rolling his eyes as he takes a seat on her couch.

“Hey, get off of that you’re not welcomed here!” She turns to glare at all of them. “None of you are!”

“As I said, it’s alright.” Ran says as he holds up the phone, screen facing her as he posts it to a porn website. She cries out as she runs to grab it, failing as he steps out of the way.

“I think social media would respond great if we post it there.” Sanzu says as he leans back, crossing his leg.

“No! Stop! F-fucking…! Please, don’t do that and just delete it off of there.” She almost sobs as horrific scenarios of her family, friends, or anyone else she knows reacting to the video, including the dreadful thought of future jobs or even her old job completely shut off from her being able to apply.

“Go back to work, Y/n.” Rin says as he leans on the counter connected to the same wall as the door.

“F-fine, just please… Please delete that and don’t post anything else.” They glance at each other, Sanzu hopping from the couch as he walks over to her, hand placed on her head as he gives a peck to her forehead. She eyes them in fear and disgust as they stroll to the front door.

“We’ll be seeing you more often, professor. So, be prepared.” Rin says as he faces the doorway, exiting the building as the door slams shut.

[itsuki-minamy]

"K - RETURN OF KINGS" (Novel)

EPILOGUE: THREE PEOPLE

* List of Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Looking back, the incident that turned all humans into supernatural beings was nothing more than a fleeting dream. Although the disaster affected not only Japan but also other countries, human damage was kept to a minimum thanks to the measures taken by "Tokijikuin". Because it was all over in just a few hours, many people didn't notice anything until it was all over.

The world is still in uproar. The media is strongly demanding an investigation into truth and accountability. Now that the existence of supernatural powers has become public knowledge, it is only a matter of time before the fact that the government has covered it up for more than 70 years after the war comes to light.

However, we will have to wait longer for that to happen.

For supernatural beings, normal life was returning. Every day was like any other: wake up, eat, shower, go to work.

However, the frequency of "work" has increased slightly.

Munakata was waiting for Fushimi when he returned to his base.

He probably didn't go to the front door to greet him. By chance they met. Still, he seemed to understand Fushimi's mission, he turned on his heel and spoke.

"Please, inform me."

Fushimi began to follow him, his lips curled.

"...After receiving a report that a Strain and "Homura" were fighting in Shizume, three members of the Special Forces rushed to the scene. They safely secured the two Strain who had already begun to escape and recently returned to base."

"Hm."

Munakata took a deep breath and shook his head.

"Although 10 days have passed since the destruction of the "Slate", it seems that people's supernatural powers have not completely disappeared. Even when the power of Hisui Nagare, who was connected to the "Slate", and Isana Yashiro, who caused the burst of royal power, quickly disappeared..."

"It is true that it is gradually weakening."

"Yes. Actually, the "Sword of Damocles" has disappeared and the "King" can no longer deploy the Sanctum. However, in that incident, people around the world have temporarily acquired supernatural abilities. Most of them have lost their power, but I'm sure there are still plenty of them. Especially here in Tokyo, where the "Slate" was located."

Fushimi grumbled in a displeased tone.

''Will our work continue for the moment?''

"It still seems so."

Fushimi stared at Munakata's back as he responded.

Not yet. This means that there will come a time when the meaning of Scepter 4's existence will be questioned.

Munakata is losing his power as ''King''. For him, the "Sword of Damocles" was falling apart, so that could be considered a blessing in disguise.

However, at the same time, it was a problem that would affect the survival of the clan known as ''Scepter 4''. Does it still make any sense to serve the "King" who has lost his power? When all supernatural beings, including themselves, lose their supernatural abilities due to the disappearance of the "Slate", is there really any point in keeping "Scepter 4"?

Fushimi is not the only one who has that doubt. He's sure many members of the clan and Special Forces think the same, even if they don't say it out loud.

However, Munakata did not respond to his subordinate's questions.

Does he still not have an answer or does he believe that every person has no choice but to find an answer to that question?

When he thought about that, his PDA sounded.

"Excuse me."

Fushimi reflexively took the PDA and pressed the call button.

It was a failure. What came out of the telephone port was a vulgar and loud voice.

"You bastard, stupid monkey! Why are you stealing from us? That Strain was "Homura's" prey..."

Fushimi hung up the call without saying a word.

Munakata stood still. His face finally turned towards him. Seeing the slight smile on his lips, Fushimi looked away and said again.

"My apologies."

Munakata said jokingly.

"Didn't you say that the Stain had been captured without "incident"?"

"Yes, it's just the extras throwing a tantrum."

Fushimi responded without hesitation, and Munakata simply laughed and looked forward.

Awashima was approaching from the other side of the hallway. When she stopped in front of Munakata and saluted, she said in a crisp tone...

"Captain. The Prime Minister has requested a meeting. He would like to discuss measures to counter the Strains abroad. Do you accept the request?"

"Okay. Let's go right away."

Nodding, Munakata quickened his pace with Awashima in tow.

Fushimi stopped and stared at his back. From now on, it's not his territory. He couldn't do politics or negotiate because he was tired.

Fushimi thought as he watched Munakata walk away into the distance.

Maybe Munakata has all the answers. What will happen to the world in which supernatural powers have been revealed? How will the clan that has lost its supernatural powers change from now on? Anticipate and then react. Because that's Reisi Munakata.

And Fushimi too.

The PDA called again. This time, he made sure to check the person before answering. Akiyama's calm voice sounded.

"Fushimi-san, I have another report. There was a robbery at the Takeido Ekimae bank. I think it was due to a Strain."

Fushimi snorted and responded.

"Here Fushimi, I understand. I'll be on my way immediately. Please prepare a transport vehicle."

Then, he too began to walk quickly.

Fushimi is also nothing more than Fushimi Saruhiko. Being a supernatural being is just one of the factors of him. Even if he loses his supernatural powers or the world changes, Fushimi will be Fushimi.

Therefore, what he has to do remains the same.

He will just do his job.

+++++++++++

Kusanagi finished polishing the glass.

He placed a glass in front of him and two glasses on the other side of the counter, in front of the stool. After placing them carefully, Kusanagi turned on the lamp.

It was left by someone who frequented that store a long time ago. He was a troublesome guy who engaged in various hobbies, but he left the things he collected for those purposes in the store. The reason Kusanagi knows how to use a lamp is because that person forced him to learn.

The glasses gave off a mysterious glow due to the flickering flames on the counter.

Looking at that with half-closed eyes, Kusanagi opened the bottle and poured the amber liquid into the glass.

A voice echoed in the silent bar.

"Wow, it smells good."

Totsuka was sitting on a stool, looking innocently at the glass with his usual kind expression on his face.

Next to him, Suoh lifted his glass and brought it to his mouth.

"...Not bad."

Totsuka held the glass with both hands, but didn't drink it, just enjoyed the aroma. He asked, looking at Kusanagi with a big smile.

"But is it okay, Kusanagi-san? This is an important bottle, right?"

"...Well, once in a while, why not?"

Yes. Sometimes something like that would be nice.

Suoh snorted. He put a cigarette in his mouth and tried to light it, but the lighter didn't light. Kusanagi shrugged, lit the Zippo, and handed it to him. Suoh looked at Kusanagi and then held the tip of his cigarette to the light of the Zippo.

The tip of the cigarette burned red hot and the exhaled white smoke floated in the light of the lamp.

Totsuka rested his chin on the counter and looked at him amused.

Kusanagi also slowly raised his glass, squinting behind his sunglasses. At this moment, the door of the bar opened with the loud sound of the doorbell.

"Damn...! They just stole my prey!"

"Yata-san! There will be another chance! Next time, let's make the guys in blue scream!"

Yata, Kamamoto and the rest of "Homura" entered the bar while chatting loudly among themselves.

Kusanagi blinked as if he had just woken up and looked at them. As they talked among themselves, they began to take positions at the desired locations.

There was no one sitting on the stool across the counter from Kusanagi.

Still holding the glass, Kusanagi stared at the empty stool.

"Izumo."

Kusanagi looked towards where that voice came from.

Anna was there. She was sitting on a stool, silently looking at the glass that was still there.

Her crimson eyes turned towards Kusanagi.

Kusanagi placed his cigarette in the ashtray and smiled silently.

"...Welcome."

+++++++++++

From the rooftop of the building, Mishakuji Yukari looked into a large hole.

The hole, which was also called Yomito Crossing or Yomito Gate, was surrounded by a yellow cordon and sparsely patrolled by police. They seemed to be quite distracted, some were holding back their yawns, others were simply staring blankly, and no one noticed the presence of the suspicious person standing on the rooftop, Mishakuji.

That marked the end of everything.

That place has little meaning to them anymore. "Jungle" was disbanded and most of the clan members gave up their power or hid in the world as people with clanless powers. The Green Clan no longer exists anywhere in the world. What's there is just a hole, a tombstone for those who once tried to bring down the world.

That's why Mishakuji holds a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"...Iwa-san. Narare-chan. Did you have fun?"

Mishakuji muttered that and threw away the bouquet.

As the petals were scattered, the bouquet fell to the bottom of the tombstone as if it were sucked.

"Nagare... Iwa-san..."

Kotosaka on his shoulder shouted in a muffled voice. Birds cannot shed tears. Instead, he lowered his voice, perhaps as a tribute to his closest friends.

As if he was wiping away his tears, Mishakuji stroked his feathers with his fingertips.

Then he slowly turned on his heel. He called out to him as he passed the boy who was standing stunned.

"Come on?"

Sukuna didn't answer anything. He bit his lip, frowned and looked as if he was desperately suppressing something.

Mishakuji pretended not to see it.

Suddenly, he remembered something from the past. Mishakuji also lost something important in his childhood. His family, his first teacher. Everything was taken away by irresistible violence.

At least, that's not the case with the deaths of Nagare and Iwafune. They lived, fought and died for their desires. Although there may be sadness and mourning, there should be no regrets.

(I had fun. Iwa-sa, Nagare-chan.)

In place of the dead who did not give an answer, Mishakuji walked forward, giving his own answer.

Sukuna also wiped his eyes roughly with his sleeve and began to follow Mishakuji. He looked back only from time to time, looking at the hole with a trace of regret in his eyes, but then he turned forward and began to walk with difficulty.

+++++++++++

"Wait, wait, Wagahai-chan, your skirt is riding up! It's riding up!"

"Nya?"

Kukuri quickly grabbed Neko's shoulders as she jumped as if she were dancing. She quickly pulled up her skirt, which had gotten caught in her bag and rolled up. As Neko blinked, Kukuri spoke in a tone similar to that of a mother teaching a small child.

"You know, Wagahai-chan. Your uniform skirt tends to ride up easily, so you shouldn't move too vigorously, okay?"

"Mmm... I'm very tight..."

Neko pouted in dissatisfaction, but obediently allowed Kukuri to do whatever she wanted. She was the one who said that she wanted to join the school, and if that was the case, she had to listen to her teacher, Kukuri, because Kuro had told her so.

"Yes, this is good!"

After properly adjusting her clothes, Kukuri looked at Neko seriously.

"Wow, I never expected Wagahai-chan to move here. And at a time like this!"

"Hehehe~. Nice to see you! Kukuri!"

"Likewise~. Ah, that's right. The teacher who transferred with you. I heard that he is a relative of Wagahai-chan?"

Neko laughed mischievously.

"Yes. That's what we decided to do!"

"Did they decide?"

Kukuri tilted her head in confusion at the strange way she said it. It was largely due to Neko's power that she was able to do that. However, she had no intention of telling Kukuri that, at least not until her life had completely calmed down.

"Well, anyway, he is a very nice teacher. It seems like everyone in my class already calls him by the nickname "German Sensei"."

After saying that, Kukuri suddenly looked up at the sky as if she remembered something.

"But... I feel like I've met him somewhere before."

Neko laughed again at that reaction, but she didn't say anything.

A delicious smell tickled Neko's nose as she ran towards the bedroom.

"I'm home! I'm hungry!"

A calm response came from the back of the kitchen at Neko's voice full of desire.

"It's done. Sit down."

"Hurrah!"

Raising her arms and expressing her joy, Neko jumped into the dining room.

In the chabudai there is white rice, miso soup, pickled vegetables and grilled fish. Those are some of her favorite dishes that she sees all the time.

Neko pinched the sleeves of her uniform and showed off a little at the person sitting there.

"How I look? What do you think of my uniform?"

She chuckled, Kuro walked out of the kitchen and opened his mouth in shock.

"You heard that in the morning too."

"I want to hear it over and over again! What do you think?"

He looked at Neko calmly and nodded slowly.

"Looks good."

Neko laughed as if tickled. No matter how many times she heard it, she was still happy. Even more than his praise for her uniform, the fact that he was there made her happier than anything else.

Isana Yashiro.

Or Adolf K. Weismann.

That wasn't the Shiro that Neko knew. He is a young man of exotic appearance, with silver hair and a white face. It is natural that there are no traces of the Shiro from before, and this is the "real" Shiro.

She doesn't really understand the detailed reasoning. However, either one was fine for Neko.

Even if his appearance has changed. Shiro is, after all, Neko's Shiro.

Kuro took off his apron and sat across from Shiro. Neko also sat between the two of them, waiting for a signal.

"Well..."

Kuro nodded and the three joined their hands and spoke in unison.

"Itadakimasu."

Neko laughed out loud at the steaming white rice, miso soup, and grilled fish.

It is not the pleasure of eating. Of course, that's one thing, but the fact that there were two people on each side of the chabudai she was placed on filled her with immense joy.

If she reaches out, she can touch them. If she smiles at them, they will smile back. There are two people she loves within that short distance.

That alone made her happy. Everything she needed was prepared on that small table. Happiness with a touch of warmth. It was what Neko had been looking for.

Surrounded by her family, Neko, Ameno Miyabi is happy.

[tswaney17]

I Do Bad Things with You - Part 41

Happy 3rd Anniversary, IDBTWY!! 🎉 I can't believe we're celebrating three years of this fic. This journey has been incredible and I'm so excited (and a little sad) to say that we are close to finishing this story. I'm very close to getting this on a regular publishing schedule. But in the meantime, please check out the art I had commissioned by the incredible SnCinder here. 💙💚💜

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW

Word Count: 12,145

It was three days before their wedding and the only thing Azriel felt was utter bliss. He couldn’t believe that in just a short time, he would have Elain as his wife. Even though they were eloping to the Summer District, they’d been head down in wedding plans over the last month.

Elain and her sisters went shopping for her dress a few weeks ago, finding—according to El—the perfect dress that didn’t require any alterations. She refused to let him see it, claiming that even though they were eloping, the rules of bad luck still applied. He had to snort at the notion, but Az would admit that not knowing what she was wearing had him curiously wondering what it would look like. He pictured many different styles in his head, all of which Elain was absolutely stunning in.

He had been in charge of the rings, Elain claiming that if he could pick out the most perfect engagement ring, then she trusted him fully to select her wedding band. His jeweler managed to match the style of her ring, adding a few extra smaller diamonds to the set. He selected a titanium, black band for himself, having Elain’s name engraved on the inside of it. Az thought the black and rose-gold colors would compliment each other well, and when he put them together, he knew he was right.

Now they were sitting on the jet, waiting for the rest of their family to arrive. Rhys and Feyre were not far behind them in getting to the airstrip. Nuala and Cerridwen—as he and Elain had decided were family—were also joining them. The Moonbeam twins picked them up from the penthouse and were also coming along, both as security and because Elain considered them like family as well. All that was left was Cassian, Nesta, and Sutton.

The new parents decided that since they could travel by private jet, they felt comfortable bringing their new baby on board—since neither of them wanted to miss their siblings getting married. When they boarded, looking slightly disheveled, they apologized for the delay, claiming Sutton was fussing and they struggled to get her to calm down.

Elain moved towards her sister, taking her niece from Nesta’s arms. “Hello, beautiful girl,” she cooed, snuggling into the baby.

Azriel watched as his fiancée’s maternal instinct took over, soothing the child when she started to fidget.

Cassian approached his side, taking in the scene between his sister and daughter. “She’s a natural mother. You’ll be eternally grateful for that instinct deeply rooted in her when you two have kids.”

He didn’t bother responding, not even knowing if Elain wanted kids. Az had been waiting for her to bring it up, but when she hadn’t even after they got engaged, he started to believe that perhaps she was happy just being an aunt. She had put so much work into her career, he wouldn’t blame her for not wanting to take away from that. Even though he had some deep desire to get Elain pregnant, to watch her grow with life inside of her, their children, he didn’t want to put that pressure on her if it wasn’t something she wanted.

So, he didn’t say anything at all, content to just live with her.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asked his brother instead.

Cash saw the change in the subject for what it was, shaking his head with a sigh, but let it go. “Sure.”

Azriel popped a bottle of champagne, serving everyone a glass aside from Nesta who declined because she was still breastfeeding and took the flute of sparkling cider in replacement.

“To the bride and groom,” Rhys announced, raising a glass.

He wrapped an arm around Elain’s waist, tucking her into his side while she held their niece in one arm and her champagne in the other. It was hard not to picture them as a little family, but he gripped that dream in a fist until it was a fleeting thought. He wanted nothing more than to marry the love of his life and wouldn’t let anything ruin it.

~~~~~

As soon as their flight landed and they arrived at the house—their entire family in disbelief at what they had purchased—everyone was tasked with something for the wedding. Meeting with the caterer, getting the arch and chairs they rented for the ceremony delivered, confirming the photographer, checking in with the florist on Elain’s bouquet, the petals that Nesta would help Sutton toss along the beach, and arrangements for the tables they were setting up on their courtyard.

There was one other thing Elain still had to do, pulling Cash aside before the rehearsal dinner.

“What’s up, Ellie?” he asked, a look of concern on his face.

Pink touched her cheeks, the only hint of her nervousness. “So, I know you’re Az’s best man, but you have been such an important part of my life. You’ve always protected me and taken care of me, especially when I felt utterly alone in the world. I was wondering—or hoping—you would walk me down the aisle tomorrow before you stand next to Azriel?”

Shock rippled across Cassian’s face. It was obvious that he had not been expecting her to ask him that. “Elain,” he said, emotion clogging his voice. “It would be my absolute honor to walk you down the aisle.” Tears lined his eyes as he pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly.

“Thank you, Cash,” she murmured, trying and failing to hold back her tears.

That night, Azriel and the other men stayed in the guest house, giving the main one to the girls.

“No strippers, boys,” she said as they tugged Az away from her.

“The same could be said for you,” Rhys called out, giving her a wink.

Her fiancé growled, slapping his brother up the side of his head.

Elain laughed. “Believe me, the only man I want to see stripping is staying with you.”

“I’m happily taken, Ellie!” Cash called out flashing the cheekiest of grins.

She could only shake her head at their antics, returning to the main house where the girls were waiting for her with drinks, games, and a bride-sash.

“Since we didn’t have time to host a bridal shower and bachelorette party beforehand, we’re improvising,” Feyre announced, throwing the sash over her head and guiding her to the living room where they had decorated for their little party.

The whole night was perfect, celebrating her final night as an unmarried woman.

The next day was filled with a flurry of commotion, everyone getting ready for the wedding. Feyre had stuck Elain in a chair and was painting magic on her face while Nuala and Cerridwen worked on her hair, curling it into gorgeous beach waves and tying half it up into a knot at the crown of her head. They wove flowers into the knot atop her head and behind her ear.

When she looked in the mirror, Elain gasped. It was beyond stunning the work they had done on her. “Thank you,” she whispered, trying to hold back her tears so she didn’t ruin her makeup. “All of you. I’m so grateful to have you all here with me.”

“There’s nowhere else we’d rather be, Ellie,” Nesta told her, hugging her from the back. “Come on, let’s get your dress on.” Her sister walked over to the garment bag and unzipped it.

Untying her white robe, Elain slipped on the dress behind the partition, coming out only to have help buttoning up the back. The dress was simply gorgeous. The bodice was made up of floral lace, plunging to just above her belly button while keeping her modestly covered. Delicate, thin straps of the same floral pattern went over her shoulders to the scooped back. The tulle skirt gathered at her waist, adding a layer over the lace skirt that sucked into her legs. It gave her this gorgeous silhouette under the gown.

Elain would go barefoot for the ceremony on the beach, wearing jeweled barefoot sandals that hooked over her middle toe and around her ankle. She had a pair of white heels she’d put on for the reception in the courtyard, once she was back on solid ground.

She slipped on the halo sapphire and diamond earrings that Azriel had gifted to her for her birthday—the only jewelry she wore aside from her engagement ring. They were one of her something blue, the other a cobalt garter in testament to Az’s favorite color. Grabbing the perfume she bought specifically for the wedding, Elain gave herself a few sprits, letting the delicate jasmine scent wash over her before making her way downstairs to the living area where Feyre, Nesta carrying Sutton, and Cash were waiting for her.

“Elain,” Cassian said her name with such reverence that she almost broke down right there. “You look so beautiful.”

Her pink lips pulled up into a joyous smile. “Thank you, Cash.” She hugged him, careful not to smudge her makeup on his suit jacket.

“Ready?” Feyre asked, handing her the blush-colored bouquet of peonies. The florist had done a stellar job with the bridal bouquets and centerpieces for the table.

“I’ve never been more ready for anything,” she said. Elain had waited for a decade to marry Azriel. Her excitement to finally get the chance left her breathless.

Though Feyre was Elain’s maid of honor, she walked down the aisle first since Nesta was carrying the flower girl.

Elain watched her sisters walk through the courtyard, out to the beach where they had set up the arch, decorated with more flowers. Where Azriel awaited her.

Cassian helped her out the door, holding a bit of her dress for her so it didn’t drag too much until they reached the edge of the courtyard and waited for the queue with the change of the music.

Elain and Azriel had picked strictly piano pieces to use for their ceremony and reception. It was fitting to them since that was how he proposed and they spent countless hours listening and him playing it.

Her brother fixed her dress one last time before offering her his arm. “Thank you for choosing him,” he said so quietly she almost missed it.

She furrowed her brow looking up at him, waiting for him to continue.

“I always worried that Azriel would never find happiness after high school. I watched my brother enter this cruel world intending to own it, even if it destroyed him in the very process. I thought I was going to lose him for a while…He’d been so depressed, I worried for his life.” Those pain-filled eyes looked down at her.

She knew Az had some internal struggles, but she didn’t know how bad it was. It broke her heart to hear that Cassian had feared for Az’s life.

“The one thing he never lost was his love for you,” he continued, likely noticing her inner sorrow, but needing to tell her this anyways. “And I’m so thankful that you forgave him for his past mistakes. The only time I ever saw Azriel happy was when he was with you, Elain. You are the world in which he revolves around. His entire being is to keep you safe and to love you, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before.

“Thank you for loving him in the way he deserves but never letting himself have.” Cassian’s eyes misted over by the time he finished and she struggled to not let herself cry at the confession.

“He is worth loving,” she admitted, looking out towards the beach like she could see him from where she stood.

“That he is,” Cassian murmured as the music changed, indicating it was time.

The few steps to the beach seemed like a lifetime until she turned the corner and saw him standing at the altar, waiting for her.

Even this far away, she could hear his choked sound at the sight of her. His face crumpled in elation as he wiped tears from under his eyes.

Elain’s hold on her damn broke and she let out a sob, face splitting in the most adoring grin. Only Cassian’s firm grip on her arm prevented her from running down the aisle and leaping into his arms.

After what felt like an eternity, Cassian was leaning over to kiss her cheek, and offering her hand to Azriel before taking his place at his side.

She handed off her bouquet to Feyre so she could take his hands.

Unable to help himself, Az leaned forward to brush his lips on her cheek before he gently pulled her forward until she was facing him. “You look…” he paused, silver-lined eyes scanning her from head to toe. “I have no words to describe how exquisite you look, El. You’re radiant.”

She choked on her laugh, her face morphing into actual rays of sunshine. “Thank you, Az. You look beautiful, too.” And she meant it. He had on a brand-new suit, cut to every defined muscle. He wore a crisp, white button-up underneath the jacket with a blush-colored tie around his neck. Even the peony boutonnière contrasted perfectly with his tanned complexion.

Rhys cleared his throat, recapturing their attention. He gave them a knowing smile. “It brings me great joy to officiate the wedding between Azriel Knight and Elain Archeron. Azriel, my brother, you have been a part of my family since we were kids. Though our relationship started rocky—”

“You beat the snot out of me that first night,” Az muttered making everyone laugh.

Their brother waved a hand. “Semantics. It didn’t take us long to warm up to each other, finding that brotherly bond we both needed. I’m grateful every day that we took you in—that we became family.”

Those violet eyes turned to her. “Elain, my darling Elain. You have always been like a little sister to me. Even before Feyre and I started dating and later got married, you’ve held this special place in my heart to love, to protect. When you and Azriel began dating in high school, I was ecstatic because I always hoped you would one day become a part of my family. And you’re now a part of it in more ways than one.”

She released one of Az’s hands to grip Rhys’s forearm, squeezing it once before returning it to her fiancé. 

“I’ve never met two people more perfect for each other. Where one hides in the shadows, the other shines. You two lift each other up in the best of ways and I have no doubt in my mind you will build the most perfect life together. I believe you both wrote your vows. Elain, if you would please go ahead.”

Her brown eyes, reflecting pools of gold in the setting sunlight looked at her husband-to-be. “Azriel, you are the strongest, most considerate man I have ever known. Our love has definitely been tested to limits that most couples never experience, but I know that makes us more solid in the foundations of our marriage.” He chuckled at how true it was. “I know that when in moments of hopelessness, you will lend me your strength. In times of sorrow, you will give me your love. When the world around me becomes too loud, you will hold me close and protect me.

“You are so many things that it sometimes makes my head spin because how could you possibly be every dream I wished for myself to find in a lover? You have broken down every fear; every mark on my life and filled it with joy. I will love you with my entire being because you deserve that from me. You deserve to feel my elation in the life we have created together. I love you more than words could ever express. My life partner. My friend. My soulmate. My husband.” Tears rolled down her cheek and he reached out, swiping them away, ignoring how his face was also wet from waterworks.

Rhys turned to his brother. “Azriel, would you please say your vows?”

He took a steadying breath. “Fuck, I should’ve gone first,” he said quietly to her.

She couldn’t help but tip her head back and laugh.

“Elain Archeron.” Her name curled on his tongue. “You are, without a doubt, the light of my life. A decade ago, I made the biggest mistake of my life by letting you go and the gods know I didn’t deserve your forgiveness for it, but you gave it to me anyways. I sometimes have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. To verify you’re actually here with me.” She squeezed his hands in reassurance. “You have the most generous heart I have ever seen; have ever had the pleasure of being held within.

“You claim that I am strong, but my strength comes from you. Your resilience is unparallel. You have made me a better man, one who will love you faithfully even after we are but dust in the wind. I promise to share my life with you. To hold you in times of need and when you require a sturdy presence. I promise to help you pursue your dreams. To take you on adventures and everything else your heart desires. I consider myself the luckiest person in the world to get to call you mine. My light. My heart. My love. My wife.”

Rhys had to wipe a tear from his eye, clearing his throat to rein in the emotion he was feeling. “May I have the rings?”

Cassian slipped behind Azriel to hand his other brother the two rings.

Rhys handed them each one. “Elain, do you take Azriel to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold? In sickness and in health? From now and forever?”

“I do,” she said, sliding the black band onto his scarred ring finger.

“And do you, Azriel, take Elain to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold? In sickness and in health? From now and forever?”

Az’s dazzling smile lit up the world around them. “I do.” He slipped the beautiful rose gold band onto her delicate finger.

Rhys clapped his hands together. “Well, thank god for that!” he teased. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

The powerful male in front of her stepped forward, slinking one hand around her waist, the other cradling her head, and pressed his lips on hers.

Elain felt her back arch as he leaned them over, gently prying her mouth open so his tongue could slip inside. The kiss was languid like they took the time to learn about each other as husband and wife. Her fingers went to his nape, ruffling the hair there.

Time slowed as if even the world paused for that kiss. The kiss that certified them as one. A unit. And when they finally broke apart, when the sounds of their family’s cheers entered their ears, neither could look away from the other. An unbreakable chain linked between their souls, connecting them in the most intrinsic of ways.

He was hers and she was his. Now and forever.

“I love you, Elain,” he whispered, bringing her back in for another kiss, arms going around her lithe body to lift her off the ground.

She erupted into a fit of giggles, eyes shining with more tears, with love, with devotion for the man in front of her.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present for the very first time, Mr. and Mrs. Azriel and Elain Archeron-Knight!”

Grabbing her bouquet, she took Azriel’s hand as they walked back down the aisle toward the house. But about halfway back, he leaned down and lifted her over his shoulder, making her squeal. “Azriel!” she shouted, laughter echoing around them. “Put me down!”

He hauled her over his body until he was carrying her bridal style. “No,” he grinned, leaning forward to kiss her as he made the trek back into the courtyard.

Elain welcomed the kiss, wrapping her arms and the bouquet around the backside of his head and holding him there for a few extra seconds. The flash of the photographer lit up their bodies, but they didn’t care as they just held each other’s stare. She traced her index finger over his cheek. “Hi husband,” she whispered shyly.

His smile was too infectious to not beam back at him. It made him look so young, boyish. “My wife,” he murmured, nudging his nose into hers. Azriel set her back on her feet, pulling her close and never letting go.

~~~

Azriel was her husband. Elain couldn’t believe that after everything they’d been through—waiting a decade for this moment—it was finally here. Everything about this moment was completely different from anything she ever shared with Graysen.

Graysen’s priority had always been himself. She didn’t even think she was in his top five important things in his life. Their entire relationship had been based on their fathers’ friendship and a setup—and she had just let it go on, not really living, but simply existing.

It was nothing like the life, the love, she’d built with Azriel. This had been wholly hers. Her decision, her choices, her life.

They’d only been married for a few hours and she couldn’t help but think of how well it suited him. He couldn’t keep his hands off her (more than he normally couldn’t). Taking her hand in his large one, setting one on her thigh while they ate, tugging her onto the makeshift dance floor by the edge of the pool. Whatever they were doing, he couldn’t seem to let her go.

And she had no desire for him to stop. Currently, she was tucked into his arms under the twinkling lights as they swayed to the soft piano music. Her hand was curled in his, head resting on his chest as she listened to his thundering heartbeat.

Every once in a while, she’d let out a contented sigh and found herself somehow melting further into his embrace. He tucked her under his chin, giving him ample opportunities to lean down and press his lips to the crown of her head.

Elain had wrapped her arm around his waist, sliding it under his suit jacket so her palm laid on the backside of his button-up. Her fingers would flex, pressing the pads of them into the strong muscles of his back.

It was late evening. Nesta retired to the house earlier, taking a sleeping Sutton to lay her down, and never returned. Cassian followed shortly after, looking for his wife, and if Elain had to guess, found her asleep still in her dress.

Fenrys and Connall had sat with Cerridwen and Nuala on the porch patio and were chatting. Had been nearly all evening, but not before each of them took her and Azriel for a round on the dancefloor.

Her other sister and husband were twirling next to them, enjoying the soft sounds of the night around them.

Azriel pressed his lips to the top of her head again. “Would you like to head in now?” he asked her quietly.

Elain tipped her face up, a beautiful smile painted on her pink lips. “Sure.”

He gave her a soft kiss before leading her not to the main house, but to the adjacent one. She looked at him with confusion when he glanced over his shoulder at her. “I thought we could take the guest house tonight, so we don’t have to worry about anyone overhearing us.”

A cheeky smile threatened to turn up her mouth. “Azriel Archeron-Knight, are you trying to get into my skirt?” she teased, giggling.

He flashed her a heated look. “Always.” And then swung open the door.

Elain couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her, taking a single step forward. But before she could even get to the doorway, she was scooped up into his arms and carried over the threshold. She squealed in delight, wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her in, kicking the door shut behind him.

The whole place was lit up with candles. Rose petals littered the floor, leading up the stairs and, what she assumed would be into a bedroom.

“Az,” she cried, eyes wide in astonishment. “Did you do this?” she asked as he set her back on her feet.

His hands came down onto her shoulders, thumbs swooping over the bare skin. “I had some help,” he admitted. “After our poker game last night, the guys helped me set up the candles. Nuala and Cer came in during the reception to sprinkle the rose petals and light everything.”

“It’s beautiful,” she told him. And it was, completely and totally romantic. Turning to face him, she kissed him hard. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, stroking his.

Azriel gripped her rear end, molding the flesh to his scarred palms and making her whimper. He sucked her bottom lip between his teeth, the sensation pulling a heeding sound from her throat. Breaking off the kiss, Az took her hand and led her up the stairs toward the bedroom.

The bed wasn’t their usual size, but Elain had no doubt he could worship her like how she imagined he would.

Taking his phone from his pocket, Az turned on the same music they had playing all evening.

Her lips quirked up in the corner. “Setting the mood?”

He chuckled. “Something like that.” Azriel flicked his wrist in a circular motion. “Turn around.”

She did as requested, turning to give him access to her back.

His fingers slid into her thick, soft hair, plucking the loose flowers from her locks. He pulled the pin from her knot, letting the rest of her hair drape down her back. Gently, those scarred fingers grazed over her scalp, massaging.

Elain hummed in pleasure.

Azriel swept her hair over her shoulder, giving him access to the line of buttons that ran down her spine. He took his time opening each one, kissing at the patch of creamy skin it revealed as he went until he reached the final one just above the swell of her ass. “May I?” he asked her, fingering the delicate straps.

She nodded. “Please.”

Azriel slowly dragged her dress down her body, offering his shoulder to help her step out of it. His eyes dragged over every inch of the white lingerie she wore, all the way down to the cobalt-colored garter that adorned her luscious thigh. “Fuck me, Elain,” he groaned, moving to hang her dress up before turning to look back at her.

She appreciated he took extra care to hang her dress so it wouldn’t get ruined. Flashing him with a mirthful smile, she said, “I plan to.”

His long, powerful legs swallowed the space between them in two single strides as he crashed their lips together, nudging her toward the bed and carefully laying her down on top of it. He kissed her deeply, with long, sensual strokes from his tongue until their mouths were bruised and swollen. His hands swept over her body, feeling the texture of the lace. “I believe I was supposed to take this off with my teeth,” he mumbled against her lips, thumbing the garter.

He kissed down her body, in the valley between her breasts, over the soft swell of her tummy, across her hip, and down her thigh to where the garter sat, leaving little marks as he went. She squirmed under his machinations, but he didn’t let up, taking his time with each place he sucked a bruise onto. His teeth clamped down on the frilly fabric, slowly dragging it down her knee, her calf, and off her foot, tossing it over his shoulder.

She laughed at the audacity of it.

Gripping her hips, he made his way back up her body, only stopping at her neck to lick and suck at her delicate skin.

Elain’s fingers got to work, shoving his jacket off his shoulders, followed by his tie from around his neck, but he stopped her from tossing it on the floor.

Taking the silk fabric, he smirked, telling her, “We’ll save this for later,” and set it aside on the bed.

Heat pooled between her legs at the promise. As of now, he had yet to tie her up, but Elain wouldn’t lie and say the idea hadn’t crossed her mind. To be immobilized by him and only him made her blood heat.

Sensing her growing need, he rolled his hips into hers, giving her just a taste of what was to come.

Azriel didn’t seem to know where to touch her first, so he kept his hands moving in possessive little touches across her body. Pinching her nipples, gripping her hips, spreading her lush thighs apart so he could settle more firmly into their cradle. No matter what he did, it just made her ache for him.

She needed to feel him. Feel his skin on hers, sliding against the lace of her lingerie. “Az,” she whined. “Take it off, please. I want to feel you.” Elain pushed at his shirt, trying to unbutton it.

He obliged her, rising to shed his button-up, and then flicked open his belt to strip out of his pants. Az seemed to care much less about his expensive suit than her dress, tossing the garments onto the floor. In his boxers only, he crawled over her.

Her hands scratched at his skin, sliding up his sides to hook around his shoulders. Elain prided herself in knowing his body thoroughly. She knew every scar, every ridge, every whorl of ink. So, when he lay back on top of her, she immediately noticed something new on his chest.

“You look so fucking beautiful, Elain,” he groaned into her neck, sucking on her pulse point.

But her hands were on his shoulders, pushing him up to get a better look at whatever he had added to his chest. Her eyes went wide in shock, finger tracing the new whorl of ink on his pectoral, right over his heart. Because, holy fuck, that was her name he added. “When did you get this?” she asked, her eyes flicking up to his in wonderment.

A smile curved up the corner of his mouth. “A few days ago.” Which, kind of explained why she hadn’t seen it since they agreed to hold off on sex the past week to make tonight more special. And why he wore a T-shirt to bed the last few nights.

“It’s my handwriting,” she deadpanned. How did he have this perfectly done?

A blush heated his cheeks as he looked down at her with such love and devotion, she felt it in the very marrow of her bones. “I took a photo of your signature on our marriage license and sent it to the artist to create a stencil. I wanted your essence imprinted on me forever. Your handwriting, your name, permanently marked over my heart where you belong.”

Elain was desperately trying to swallow the emotion that had choked her. This man. This wonderful, incredible, selfless man tattooed her name on his body to always keep her close to his heart. She didn’t think she could love him any more than she already did, but he continuously proved her wrong.

Leaning her head forward, she kissed him right over that ink, then cupped his face in her palms; let her thumbs trace lightly over the apples of his cheeks. “Make love to me, Azriel.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, taking her hands from his face and lacing their fingers together by the side of her head. He sucked and licked the soft swells of her breasts, plumped up from the lingerie she was still wearing. His mouth attached to her nipple through the lacy fabric, pulling the point deep into his mouth until her back arched.

She raised her hips, rubbing them together. The wet spot on her panties would’ve told him just how desperate she was for him. It matched the one on his boxer briefs.

Az released her hands to work on the straps of her lingerie, pulling the white lace off her until she was completely bare before him. His thumb gently stroked her slit, grazing her clit just so, sending bolts of pleasure through her body.

Elain’s fingers slid into his dark locks, mussing them as she tugged him closer to where she needed him.

“Tell me what you want me to do, El,” he groaned, sliding his nose into the crease of her thigh.

A hot, needy sound tumbled from her throat, but she said the words that she knew would elicit actions. “Feast, husband.”

He growled, lapping at her entrance before plunging his tongue inside of her. He licked and slurped at her like she was the last thing he’d ever eat. It felt so good, she was nearly delirious with pleasure. Sliding two fingers into her, he pumped slowly, stretching her. “You’re so fucking close already, I can feel you quivering around my hand.”

Elain threw her head back, eyes squeezed shut as she focused on the pull, deep in her gut. Her hips undulated into him and she tugged his head down to where she needed him. Wanted him. “Please, Az,” she cried.

Knowing exactly what she was asking for, he sucked her clit between his teeth, finally drawing her to the brink, and pushing her off.

Elain shattered on his tongue, screaming out his name and tightening her grip on his hair hard enough that he groaned against her, the vibrations sending her spiraling.

He didn’t stop until she went limp, licking every drop she gave him. Azriel looked up at her from between her legs, her release dripping off his lips, and fuck, did the sight have her body trembling for more.

Using his hair as leverage, she pulled him up her body until she could kiss him. Elain moaned at the taste of herself on his tongue.

Brushing hair off her forehead, he smiled down at her. “Hi, wife.”

Those words made butterflies erupt in her stomach, her heart pounding against her ribcage. Azriel could’ve made his vow to her from that look alone, with so much love and longing, Elain knew he was feeling the same emotions as she was.

She reached down, cupping him in her small palm and earning a hiss as he pumped into her hand.

“Still need more from me?” he teased.

“I need everything from you.”

Heat flashed in his eyes. Crawling off her, he stripped out of his boxers, that last piece of clothing between them, then resituated himself between her legs. Azriel rubbed himself over her drenched slit, coating him in her release and adding friction to her clit.

Elain’s head tipped back as a moan crested from her lips.

He took advantage of the exposed skin, attaching his mouth to her neck and sucking a bruising mark into her skin. She loved his love bites, loved when he covered her in his marks like he was staking a claim.

Blindly reaching, Az grabbed the tie from the other side of the bed and held it between them. “Do you trust me?”

The corner of Elain’s lips quirked up. “A little late asking me that since I just married you.”

He pinched her butt cheek in reprimand making her squeal.

“Yes, of course, I trust you.”

“Give me your hands.” It was a soft command, but she listened, bringing her palms forward and presenting them to him. Azriel wrapped the small end of his tie around her, binding her arms together at her wrists with the soft silk. “Is that too tight?” he asked, sliding a finger under the fabric.

She shook her head. “No.”

He kissed her fingers. “If you become uncomfortable at all, tell me.” And then he pushed her arms above her head. “Don’t move these.”

Elain felt herself shudder, stretching out her body as he leaned over her again, mouth going straight for her neck. Her husband’s neck kink was out in full force that night and she loved every bite, every swipe of his tongue on the sensitive skin.

His hips rutted into her, sliding himself through her lower lips and coating his cock with her arousal.

It was heavenly. From the sensual tug of his teeth and the friction he applied between her legs, Elain felt herself slicken even further. “Azriel,” she groaned, arms aching to go around his neck but remaining still above her head. “Please. I need you inside me.”

Grabbing her plump thigh, he hefted it onto his shoulder, splitting her open. The head of his cock nudged at her entrance before he rolled his hips, sliding into her with ease.

Her back arched as he entered her, his grunts of pleasure from her clenching around him only enticed her further.

“El, fucking hell. If you keep doing that, I’m going to come before I’m even seated,” he complained, lips pulling her pert nipple into his mouth and sucking.

She couldn’t stop the cry from escaping her as he filled her to the brim. His cock sheathed in her warm heat was better than any feeling. She couldn’t explain how the fullness made her whimper from pleasure but also feel at home at the same time. Elain wrapped her other leg around his hips, urging him to move.

And move he did. Long, slow thrusts had her seeing stars when he hit that spot deep inside her. Everything he gave her was measured, from how far he pulled out, to how fast he pushed himself into her.

She needed him harder. Deeper. “Fuck me, Azriel. Like you mean it,” she growled.

His teeth bit down on her nipple in reprimand and, fuck, did she feel it everywhere. Pain mixed with pleasure. But he did as she demanded, snapping his hips into hers and building her up, up, up until she teetered on the edge of her pleasure.

He released her nipple, lips traveling up her jaw to find her own as he thrust into her again. Az grabbed the large end of his tie, wrapped it around his hand, and pinned it to the wall as he fucked her harder, the headboard slamming into the plaster with enough force to leave a dent.

But she didn’t care. She didn’t care about the goddamn wall, or how her arms ached, or that their family might hear them if they were still outside. All she cared about was the wonderful, delicious feeling that grew low in her belly.

Azriel’s tongue licked up her neck, sucking her delicate skin. He angled his hips up to catch her clit with every thrust. It was what she needed to send her shattering into a million little pieces.

Elain’s cries were smothered by his mouth like he wanted to swallow every sound she made.

It only took a few more thrusts before he careened into his orgasm, spilling himself deep inside her, her body milking him.

Azriel collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily into her neck as she fought to catch her own. He brought his arm down, pulling her hands until he could slip his head between her arms. She carded her fingers through his damp hair, scratching at his scalp. He hummed in contentment.

They lay there for a while, snuggled into each other’s embrace, Elain brushing her lips on the top of his head.

After a few moments, he was tugging himself out of her sensitive center, kissing the wince away before sliding out of her arms and sitting up. Az carefully untied her silk from her wrists, dropping, even more, kisses to where they had been bound. “How was that?”

She hummed, a soft smile painted on her lips as she circled her free wrists. “That was better than amazing.”

“Better than amazing, hmm?” he murmured, nudging his nose into her cheek.

Affectionate Azriel was one of her favorites—his need for physical touch after they had sex always led to some cuddling. So, she was quite surprised when he began climbing off her. “Where are you going?” she complained, reaching out for him, but her weary arm fell to the mattress with a thud.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her lips once more. “I’ll be right back.” Azriel walked over to his suitcase, sitting in the corner of the room.

Elain rolled onto her side, propping her head on her fist, and watched him stoop down. “Nice ass, husband.”

Her comment had him laughing, deep and full-bellied. He glanced over his shoulder at her, humor dancing in those dark eyes. Grabbing whatever he needed from his bag, he walked back over to her with a mischievous grin. “Since this is our wedding night, I thought we could make it traditional in that we take your last virginity.”

She raised a brow. “Virginity? Az, what are you talking—” Elain paused, taking in the items he presented to her in his palms. The pink vibrator, a tube of lube, and a plug were cradled in his hands. “You want to take my ass?” she asked in disbelief.

“You make it sound so dirty,” he snickered, kneeling on the bed. “And only if you want to. I know we’ve discussed it lightly before, but I brought everything we’d need if you want to explore it.”

Pink rushed to her cheeks, dripping down her chest. She’d be lying if she said the idea hadn’t prickled her curious mind. Whenever he touched her there, her pleasure always intensified. It felt so forbidden, but so right at the same time. Her eyes traveled from the items still in his palms back to his face. “Okay,” she breathed.

Setting everything on the bed, he kissed her belly, smiling into her skin. “My good girl,” he murmured, the words igniting something inside her. “On your knees.”

Elain rolled over, rising onto all fours. Her stomach clenched in anticipation.

Az placed another kiss at the bottom of her spine, kneading her behind. “You have less give back here, so we’re going to take this nice and slow. But I need you to tell me when it’s getting close to being too much to handle, and when you’ve reached your limit. We don’t go past anything that you’re uncomfortable with. Okay?”

She nodded, flipping her hair over her shoulder to look back at him. “I understand.”

“Good girl. We’ll start with my fingers to get you stretched, then I’m going to try and insert this plug.” He leaned over her to show her the plug again. Elain ran a finger over the cool metal. “First off,” he started, setting the plug back on the bed, “we need to get you stimulated.” Azriel slid two fingers inside of her, wetting them with their combined releases.

Elain moaned as he thrust into her, filling her, stretching her. Pulling his digits from her cunt, her body clenching around nothing, he then slowly inserted the toy. They had only played with it a few times, but it had become one of her favorite things to pull out when they got hot and heavy. She waited in baited silence for that first vibration, jolting at the first flick from his fingers on his phone. Hips stuttering, she bowed her head, moaning.

“Easy, love,” he murmured, stroking up to her rosebud. Az worked her opening with his two fingers. The squeeze was tight, but then she felt him add a generous amount of lube, slickening her hole and allowing him to slip in both digits to his knuckle.

She whimpered, rocking back onto his hand. The sensation of his fingers pumping in and out of her, the vibrations from the toy in her pussy had her sprinting towards her next orgasm.

But as soon as he felt her crest, Az pulled out of her behind.

Elain was close to crying out when she felt the plug being pushed into her gaping back hole. Holy fuck, the plug was larger than his two fingers. She whimpered as her body stretched to accommodate the toy, bordering on painful.

“You’re doing so well, my good girl. Breathe, love.”

She took shallow breaths, eyes screwing shut. “Az,” Elain cried out his name. “It hurts.” Her fingers tightened on the sheets beneath her palms.

Immediately he pulled back slightly, giving her body some relief. “Do you want to stop, Elain?”

Did she want to stop? No—she didn’t. Elain wanted this. “No,” she breathed, head bowing. “Just give me a second.”

He kissed her sweaty back, reaching between her legs her to lazily rub at her clit.

“How much further until the plug is seated?” she panted, glancing over her shoulder at him.

Azriel’s burning gaze was already on her face, the hunger she saw nearly made her quiver. “About a half inch until you reach the jewel. Once it’s in, it shouldn’t hurt anymore.”

Elain swallowed, nodding. “Okay, go ahead.”

“Are you sure, El? We don’t have to do this.”

She reached back, grabbed his knee—the only thing she could grasp—and squeezed it. “I’m okay. I want to continue.”

Adding more lube to her back entrance, he continued, twisting the plug back and forth to add to the pleasurable sensation.

The break was exactly what her body needed, because, after another moment or two, Elain felt the plug settle into her ass. She moaned, toes curling at feeling so full.

“Good fucking girl,” Az groaned, circling her clit with his fingers. “You did so well, my love. Let’s get you to come, shall we?” Kicking up the vibrator, he gently tugged on the plug, not pulling it out but giving her a sensation of a thrust.

Her body shook, teetering on the edge of her orgasm. “Az, I’m so close. Please, please.” Tears rolled down her cheeks from the pleasure she felt. That deep pull in her backside, the vibrations. Everything inside her was pulled taut and ready to snap. So, when he twisted the plug, Elain shattered in a way she had never done before.

She screamed, her body quaking around everything. Wetness poured out from around the vibrator, coating her thighs. Unable to hold herself up anymore, she collapsed, face first, into her pillow, forcing Azriel to let go of the plug lest he accidentally pull it out of her.

Elain shook, and shook, and shook, the aftershocks of her orgasm running up and down her spine like ocean waves crashing along the shore.

His body sidled up behind her, tugging her limp form into his arms to whisper words of comfort into her hair.

“Turn it off,” she panted, the stimulation overwhelming enough that it was too much.

He moved quickly, releasing her to sit up and grab his phone.

Elain whimpered when the toy was switched off, her sensitive center aching. She was gathered back into his arms, her back pressed into his chest. His hard cock was digging into her backside, thankfully not adding any pressure to the plug.

She panted heavily, her entire body unnaturally boneless. It almost felt like she was hovering just outside of her physical form, not quite drifting back down from her high.

Azriel ran his scarred hands over her curves, soothing her to finally come back to him. he planted kisses on her shoulder, her neck, wherever he could reach with his mouth while keeping her secure in his embrace. “I’m here, El. Just breathe,” he murmured into her hair, making sure she could feel his presence.

It could’ve been minutes or hours before she finally collected enough pieces of herself to twist her neck and look at him over her shoulder.

A dopey smile was on his face at her blissed-out state. “Hello, love,” he whispered, gently kissing her lips.

“How long have we been laying here?” she asked, genuinely curious if she passed out.

He kissed her cheek. “About fifteen minutes.”

That had her blinking. She’d been out of it for fifteen minutes? Holy fuck.

His low chuckle had her eyes snapping back to his. “That was a rather intense orgasm for you. It’ll take a while for you to come down from it,” Az explained, reaching over her to cup the side of her cheek. His thumb swooped over her skin and she couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “How are you feeling?”

How did she feel? Elain wasn’t quite sure she could explain it, to be honest, but she tried anyways. “I feel—” she weighed her words, trying to find the best ones, “light, I suppose is a good way to put it. Like I drifted out of my body.”

“Did you enjoy it?” Of course, he would ask her that.

“It was overwhelming, but yes, I enjoyed it. A lot. I’ve never felt anything like that before.” Elain reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Just give me a couple more minutes and then we can continue.”

He squeezed her palm. “Baby, we don’t need to go any further tonight. You’ve already been through a lot and I don’t want you pushing it—”

“I’m not, Az,” she interrupted him. “I want to try it with you. I’ve got one more in me tonight, but that’s it. And I want to share it with you.”

It was obvious he wanted to protest, but she didn’t let him. “You’ve only come once tonight. I want to be the reason you do it again. Please, Az. Just try. I’ll tell you if I can’t handle it.”

Scarred fingers brushed her hair behind her ear. “Okay, let me go get a towel before we attempt to pull the plug out.” He dropped another kiss on her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.” Sliding off the bed, Azriel padded to the bathroom, bringing back two bath towels.

She watched him place one at the end of the bed, and then unfolded the other, sliding it partially under her hips.

At her questioning look, he told her, “It might get a little messy and I’d rather not have to change the sheets tonight when we’re finished.”

“You’re not going to put me on my knees again?”

He resumed his position behind her. “No, I don’t think you have the energy for that right now. So, I’ll take you like this.” Propping her knee up, he traced the pads of his fingers over her hip, sliding until her could toy with her clit, lightly circling it. “Tell me when you’re ready. I’ll put the vibrator back on but will keep it low.”

Elain took a steadying breath. He was right, she didn’t have the energy to keep herself upright and she was incredibly thankful that Az could read her body better than she could. “I’m ready,” she said with conviction.

His thick arm slid under her waist, coming up to cup her breast, pinching her nipple just enough to send bolts of pleasure through her body.

She whimpered, pressing herself further into the cradle of his hips.

“Touch yourself for me,” he ordered, taking her hand when she brought it between her legs and showing her just how much pressure to apply. “Good girl. Just like that.” Releasing her, he reached back for his phone, kicking on the vibrator to a low setting.

Elain sucked in a breath, her body still slick with her arousal. When she felt the twisting on the plug, she couldn’t stop the low moan from escaping her throat.

“You’re doing so well, love. Just breathe for me. Nice and slow.”

Doing as he told her, she inhaled slowly, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth as he carefully pulled the plug from her ass. As soon as it was gone, Elain whined, her body clenching around the open air.

Azriel cursed into her shoulder, applying lube to his hard cock. “Your body is begging for me, love,” he groaned, nudging the head at her back hole. He grabbed her thigh, hauling her bent leg into the air and exposing her to the cool air. “Tell me when you need me to stop.”

She didn’t. Elain relaxed her body as best as she could, taking him inch by glorious inch as he rocked himself into her. She reached back, gripping his hair at the scalp and holding him into her neck while he sunk deeper and deeper until she felt her rear end pressed into the cradle of his hips.

“Fuck, El,” he moaned. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Elain couldn’t form words. She was delirious with pleasure, edged with pain, and everything in between. It was life-altering, how full she felt with his cock buried into her ass. Nothing could compare to how good it felt to have him like this.

When he started to move, the only sounds she could form were heavy breaths and low moans. Her mind was a kaleidoscope of color as he thrust into her, his fingers digging into the back of her knee, holding her open for him.

His strokes were measured and deep, sliding nearly all the way out, and pushing in until he hit a spot inside her that had her gasping every time.

She needed more. She needed it faster. She needed to come. “Harder, Az,” she cried out, her face burying into her shoulder.

He picked up the pace, snapping his hips into her, his mouth latching itself onto her the back of her shoulder.

Oh, gods. Oh, gods, it was so good. Her hand left her clit to clutch the edge of her pillow, but he quickly replaced it, releasing her breast to slide his fingers down between her legs, tightening his circles on her.

Elain sobbed in pleasure, climbing higher and higher. It was too much. It wasn’t enough. She couldn’t think straight. Her name…what was it? Oh, fuck, he felt so good. She had no idea it could feel like this. “So good,” she moaned pathetically. Her body had turned to putty beneath his careful hands and his hard cock. Another whimper passed between her parted lips as she climbed up to the top of her orgasms, teetering on the edge of something she’d never felt before.

Azriel brushed his mouth to the shell of her ear. “I’ve got you, baby. Let go for me.”

His gruff words were her undoing as Elain dove headfirst into the largest orgasm she’d ever experienced. She squeezed the hair between her fingers, hard enough that he grunted into her neck, but she didn’t let go—couldn’t let go as she fell, fell, fell, all while he fucked her ass harder and faster, prolonging her pleasure.

Her face was soaked with tears, body pulsing around his cock.

It only took another thrust or so before Azriel came with a shout, pushing himself as deep into her as he could go to spill inside of her, claiming her ass as his. Her body convulsed around him, taking everything he offered her and more.

The sweat between their bodies rolled over her skin, but she didn’t care. She was too far lost in her mind to worry about anything but how incredible she felt.

His hot breath panted over her shoulder as he gently laid her leg over her body, keeping her knee still bent. Grabbing his phone, he switched off the vibrator. Az gave her a while to catch her breath, before he murmured into her ear, “I’m going to pull everything out. Slow breaths, love.” The words rattled in her skull but didn’t fully register. She was too lost in the sensations.

Bringing her leg back up, he reached between her thighs and gently tugged out the toy. It didn’t stop the whimper from escaping her lips.

“Easy, baby. We’re almost finished,” he whispered, his voice velvety soft and covering her like a warm blanket.

Removing himself from her behind was another story. Her body clamped onto him, causing her to cry out from her sensitive hole.

He slowed his movements, stroking her hips soothingly. “Relax, El. I need you to relax.” His hands gently swept over her body, helping her body come down.

She did, inhaling deeply until he managed to pull himself free. Elain felt incredibly empty without him in her, missing it already, but was too exhausted for anything else tonight.

Azriel pulled himself from behind her, leaning over her body to kiss her cheek. “Don’t fall asleep. We need to clean up first. I’m going to start the bath.” Gripping her chin, he turned her head and dropped a kiss on her swollen lips, smiling down at her before padding into the bathroom.

Elain heard the water turn on and then him rummaging through the drawers, looking for something if she had to guess. Frankly, she didn’t care. She just wanted to sleep. But as soon as she started to drift off, Az was hauling her into his chest, her arms sliding around his neck.

The scalding water made her flinch when it touched her overly sensitive butt. She whimpered again, tightening her hold on him.

Az hushed her, murmuring sweet nothings into her ear as he slowly sank into the tub.

Fuck she was so sore, but the heat of the water felt so good too. She nuzzled into his neck before allowing him to twist her on his lap so she sat between his legs. Elain rested her head on his shoulder while he washed her down.

“You did so well tonight, love. I’m proud of you,” he told her, kissing her temple. “Are you feeling all right?”

Elain hummed in contentment. “Fine, just tired.”

His chuckle reverberated through her spine. “We’ll get to bed soon. I need to clean up the mess first and blow out all the candles. Do you think you can manage sitting in the tub a bit longer while I take care of that?”  

“Mhmm.” She had no energy for anything else.

His soft laughter chased her in her dreams. Elain felt him climb out from behind her, carefully laying her back against the edge. “Don’t fall asleep, El.”

Good luck with that, she wanted to say but couldn’t. Her eyes had already drifted shut, but she could hear him opening the slider to the small balcony, letting in the fresh air, and then collecting all the items from their bed. She peaked an eye open, seeing him drop the toys in the sink to clean them.

Az didn’t bother to dress, standing nude at the counter as he took care of everything.

Gods, she loved him. He always did everything for her so she never had to worry about anything after sex.

Turning to face her, he grabbed a towel and knelt by the edge of the tub. “All right, love. Can you stand for me so I can dry you off?” He popped the drain, gripping her under the elbow to help her to her feet.

Elain swayed dangerously, making him lurch to hold her under her arm so she didn’t slip.

Az dried her off as best as he could, tossing the wet towel over to the sink before lifting her back into his arms and carrying her into bed, sliding them both under the covers he had pulled down.

She snuggled into his chest, lips pressing over his heart where her name was permanently tattooed. “I love you, Azriel.”

He held her close kissing the top of her head. “Sleep, my beautiful wife.”

But she was already gone, pulled by exhaustion into a dreamless slumber.

~~~~~

Azriel woke to sunlight streaming in from the white curtains across the balcony slider. The rays reflected in Elain’s golden-brown hair, strewn across her pillow. His beautiful, naked wife was curled up on her side, her back pressed into his chest. He was pretty sure his left arm was completely dead, but he didn’t care. Not when he woke up to her every goddamn morning of every day.

She was his wife.

Fuck, she was his wife.

He couldn’t believe he got to call her that forever now. Az didn’t know who he should be thanking for it, but he sent up his prayers to anybody who would listen. His arms were banded around her, one across her chest, the other slung over her waist. He tightened his hold on her, nuzzling deeper into her jasmine and honey scent. She always smelled so good.

The faint laughter of their family told him that they should probably get up soon—join them for breakfast before the jet flew everyone home. He and Elain were going to stay here for a few days before starting on their three-week honeymoon. They were flying to the Winter District first, staying in this dome-like cabin under the northern lights. From there, they would travel to the Spring District to go through its impressive rose gardens. Elain had always wanted to see them and he was obliged to give that to her.

Three whole weeks to themselves. Three weeks of traveling across the country, taking in different sights, sounds, and tastes.

Speaking of tastes, Azriel was greedy for the delicate taste of his wife. Breakfast before breakfast, he told himself, leaning in to kiss her bare shoulder. When she didn’t stir, he moved further into the junction of her neck. He swept his hands over her body, the black band on his fourth finger catching the morning rays.

Elain shifted then, murmuring something in her sleep. Still, she didn’t fully wake.

So, he moved his lips to her nape, kissing her there and nudging his nose into her.

She sighed softly, rolling back into his chest to look up at him. Elain flashed him a sleepy smile. “Good morning, husband.” Her voice was a whisper on the morning breeze.

Gods, when she called him that…he had never felt happiness like this. “Good morning, wife,” he told her, tone husky as he leaned down to claim her lips.

Elain responded to his ministrations eagerly, allowing him to roll on top of her. Her fingers wove into his mussed hair. “What time is it?” she asked as he kissed down her throat to the center of her chest.

Az looked up at her, her brown eyes already dark with lust. “Mid to late morning if I had to take a guess. Everyone else is up. I can hear them.” His tongue darted out to lap at her nipple, sucking the point deep into his mouth.

She sucked in a breath, arching into him and pushing her breast further between his teeth. “Az,” she moaned.

He slipped further down her body, settling between her thighs. His thumb stroked her slit, feeling the wetness that had gathered there already. “Hush, love. You have to be quiet or our family is going to hear you while I enjoy my breakfast.”

At the first swipe of his tongue, Elain clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes screwing shut.

Azriel chuckled against her, throwing her legs over his shoulders and setting a brutal pace. He licked her entrance, plunging his tongue in and out of her, then slid up her slit to suck her clit.

Elain grabbed a handful of his hair, moaning against her palm as she writhed against his mouth, fucking herself on his tongue.

He loved when she took her pleasure from him, rode him to her heart’s content like she was doing now.

With her grip on him, Elain undulated her hips into him, positioning his mouth where she wanted him—needed him. When she tugged him to her clit, he sucked it hard, careening her into her orgasm.

She came with a muffled cry, body going limp into the mattress.

Swiping his tongue up her slit one more time, Azriel kissed his way back up her body, bringing his mouth to hers and letting her taste herself.

Elain hummed, hooking an ankle over his hip and flipping them over. Straddling his waist, she kissed him again. “My turn.” Following a similar path he took, Elain made her way down to his aching cock, at attention and eagerly waiting for his wife’s delectable mouth.

“Fuck, Elain,” he groaned at the first lick.

She smirked at him from between his legs. “Quiet now. You don’t want our family to hear you while I eat my breakfast,” Elain teased, repeating his words back to him.

“Let them,” he growled, sucking in a breath when she swallowed him whole. Fuck, he brushed the back of her throat in her bobbing. Azriel grabbed her hair, holding it at the back of her head and off his thighs. He wanted to watch her suck him.

And suck him she did. Elain’s cheeks hallowed, taking him deep into her mouth and swirling her tongue around his shaft. The warmth was fucking heavenly. “Baby, I’m going to come,” he warned her, feeling the pull low in his belly.

It should be embarrassing how quickly he’d orgasm when she put her mouth on him, but frankly, he didn’t care about staving off when she fucked him with her mouth. It felt too good to stop. “El…”

Feeling him at the precipice of his orgasm, she took him as deep as her throat would allow, finishing him off with a final draw from her mouth.

Az came with a groan, spilling down her throat.

Elain pulled off him with an audible pop, swallowing everything he gave her.

Fuck he loved her. He said as much, grabbing her under his arms and hauling her up his body to kiss her roughly. “You have no idea how much I want to be buried inside of you right now, but we should probably get down there to see the family off. I have housekeepers coming today to clean this place.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “We should definitely put away the toys from last night before they get here.”

He laughed, alerting the others to their woken state because a few minutes later, Cash was banging on the front door, shouting, “Lovebirds, get up! I’ve got breakfast ready.”

“We’re coming!” he growled back, making Elain giggle into his chest. “Come on wife, let’s get dressed.”

Half an hour later, they were cleaned up, dressed, and making their way across the yard to the back patio where his brother had served up a ton of food. Bacon, eggs, potatoes, toast, fruit, and every breakfast drink you could imagine.

Azriel pulled out a chair at the table for Elain, pushing her in before taking a seat next to her. He grabbed platters of food, piling various things onto her plate before his own.

“Elain, you look incredibly well-rested,” Cassian said.

He froze in the middle of scooping fruit, eying his brother in suspicion.

El blinked at his brother. “I am Cash. Thank you.”

He knew it wasn’t a compliment based on the tone of voice. “Cash, if you ever want to have children again, I suggest you not voice whatever is sitting on the tip of your tongue,” he warned.

His wife glanced at him, brows furrowed. “What?”

But Cassian just threw an arm around Nesta’s shoulders, smirking. “I’m just saying, if she’s well-rested, then you must’ve not done your job last night well enough.”

Elain’s cheeks turned pink at the comment, but before he could throw the platter at his ass of a brother, she said, “Cash, perhaps you shouldn’t be so boastful. You should know that women tell each other everything.” Elain propped her cheek on her fist, staring his brother down. “And I mean, everything.”

He glanced at her, unsure of whatever it was she had on his brother, but he was curious. And the look that Cash shot her was not one of pride, but rather one of caution.

“You don’t know anything,” he dared.

His wife’s smile was nothing short of chilling.

“Oh, really? I wouldn’t be so quick, to assume.”

Cassian’s face went pale and he whipped his head to Nesta who was trying not to smile, patting her daughter’s back. “You told her?!” he accused.

Nesta buried her face into the side of Sutton’s head, trying to hold back her laugh.

Feyre raised a glass across the table. “I can back, Elain.” The younger Archeron winked at his wife, sipping from her mimosa.

Cash gaped at the three women. “I can’t believe you told them,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child.

Nesta patted his thigh. “It was years ago, babe. Who cares?”

“I care,” he muttered, looking put out.

Azriel reached under the table to grip Elain’s thigh, pouring her a mimosa from the pitcher on the table.

She slid her hand into his, lacing their fingers together. Picking up her glass, she clinked it on his, her smile brighter than pure sunshine.

He couldn’t stop himself from leaning down to kiss her, oblivious to the whoops and hollers from their family. Az ignored all of that and just let himself enjoy the moment with his gorgeous wife.

~~~

A few hours later, the newly married couple was lying on the beach, soaking up the sun’s warmth. He had dragged out two lounge chairs, sitting them side by side in the sand. Elain looked ridiculously good in her high-waisted bikini.

He had thoroughly ravished her body last night, her creamy skin plastered with his claiming marks. A few were covered by the swimsuit, but the ones on her neck, her ribcage, between the swells of her breasts remained visible.

Fuck she looked sexy covered in his bites.

And Elain didn’t seem to mind them showing, walking out of the house with the confidence of a queen.

Az had groaned at the sight of her. “I did a number on your body,” he’d told her.

She simply smirked, stating, “Perhaps you can add another one later.” Then she handed him the bottle of sunscreen and asked him to lather her back up.

He definitely did more than just her back, kneeling to cover her gorgeous legs, her toned arms, her ample chest, and her lithe waist. She laughed when his fingers slipped into her bikini top, asking him what he was doing. “Making sure my wife doesn’t get burned.”

Elain could only shake her head at his antics.

Laying out, she had tipped her floppy hat down, shading her face as she napped, the book she’d been reading discarded in the sand underneath her chair.

Noticing the pinkening on her stomach, Azriel got up, grabbing the bottle of sunscreen to rub more on her.

She jolted slightly at the contact.

“You’re getting pink,” he explained, spreading the white cream over her body. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Elain hummed, running her hand up his arm. Quick as a flash, she pulled his Ray Bans off his face.

He gave her an exasperated look. “What are you doing?” Az laughed.

“Here, you can wear mine,” she said, holding out her pink aviators to him and pushing his onto her nose.

Huffing, he grabbed hers from her outstretched hand and slid them onto his face. “How do I look?”

“Fabulous,” she said, grinning.

He grabbed her waist, hauling her over his shoulder and making her squeal.

“Azriel! What are you doing?” she laughed.

“Taking my wife swimming, that’s what.”

She smacked him on the butt. “Put me down!”

“No,” he said, popping her on the ass. “And believe me, baby, if you want to start the ass-smacking, I will win.”

Azriel should’ve known that her silence wasn’t her conceding, but that wicked little mind coming up with something truly devious. He hadn’t anticipated her grabbing his hips and biting him on the cheek.

A shout sounded from his throat, and he whipped her back over his shoulder to carry her bridal style. “You little minx. Did you just bite my ass?” He stared down at her in disbelief.

“I told you to put me down. It’s your fault,” she told him, smiling sweetly.

The heated look he shot her had her squirming in his arms. “Oh, I will get even for that later tonight.” His sensual promise had blood rushing to her cheeks. Despite his desire to turn around and carry her right up to the house and fuck her senseless, he continued into the cool water, setting her on her feet about thigh deep.

Elain bent at the waist, dragging her fingers in the waves. Giving him a feline smirk, she splashed him and took off running.

Stunned for a second, Azriel ran after his wife, following the sound of her joyful laugh. When he finally caught her, he kissed her like it was his last.

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

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[that-gt-and-vore-stuffs]

I believe I'm that someone which I apologize for not responding I get distracted easily 🤣

But I'm absolutely interested in hearing about your GB vore thoughts sorry for the initials don't know how the slashes work for this

Actually, I didn’t mean you lol. I have another friend who took all of three minutes after my initial post to pop up in my discord feed abt “hey so I saw ur post” lol. Although I’m always open to ramble. Also don’t worry about the slashes, I just do that so my posts don’t end up on the main tags

Now for the thoughts-

All four of the main idiots are switches. Why do I feel this way? Because you cannot tell me that eating each other is not one of the many many ways they show affection right along side being assholes to each other

As I discussed with the above mentioned friend (@thefanciestborrower in case you were interested and just to make sure they see this post) It’s one of the ways Winston is informed that he’s truly been accepted as a Gho/stbus/ter.

He got ate one day, completely out of the blue, and went to Janine about it later. She just laughed and told him he’s officially be adopted into the idiot squad.

Speaking of Janine, she’s the only one spared from the constant random noms in the firehouse. Not because shes a full Pred or anything but because they’re afraid of her.

The Gho/stbus/ters might not fear ghosts, but they do fear their dear friend and secretary Janine.

She’s got a shot glass of cocktail swords and toothpicks she wields and wields well when small

Has stabbed Peter on multiple occasions for almost setting his hand on her while she was small

Egon is a Pred lean for science, although not against being ate so long as he’s warned and willing

Ray falls to the prey side but is pretty center. Can and has eaten the others

Peter is a pure switch, like the ass he is

Winston leans Pred, HOWEVER poor dude was stuck getting ate for the first few months after joining the crew

They’re all silly little guys tbh. Thats all.

Dana and Janine talk about how stupid they are all the time after work. They think it’s the funniest thing in the world. The boys? Not so much.

Can you eat ghosts? Test results have been…inconclusive so far

And those are the main ones for now! I’m sure my mind will think of some more soon but if you have more thoughts I’d always be open to hear them! Glad my rambles entertain yall still and it’s good to be back :)

[pandorasfavorite]

Self Pity Pt2.

Summary: you are recovering from many days of abandonment, Neteyam apologizes. Angsty, hurt/comfort. THIS TOOK ME TOO DAMN LONG IM SORRY.

Notes: this took me forever because I wanted the ending to be perfect and good writing not mid. Also I almost started to sob writing this.

Neteyam didn't cry, not in front of his family and most importantly not in front of his father. But that's the thing about you, you tend to change things frequently. Neteyam spilled everything to his father getting worked up again just by talking about what he did to you. It's hard for him to breathe, just knowing that you are sitting in the healer's tent because he could not provide for you like a proper mate physically pains him. The overwhelming urge to come to your aid prods at his legs making him step instinctively towards the exit as he's speaking. Jake notices this resonating with his son, and he grabs Neteyam by the shoulders grounding him. "Son, do you love her", Neteyam was convinced this was the most foolish question his father has ever asked him. "Of course" he blurts out a new wave of tears brimming in his eyes because he knows he's not worthy enough to even say that. Jake pushes Neteyam towards the exit of their home, navigating him towards the hut where you are resting.

Neteyam snaps his head up toward his father with uncertainty, "Go make things right". Neteyam can only muster up a small "yes sir" before pushing the flap to the hut to the side. A whimper slipped past his lips seeing your beautiful face pale and covered with a sheen of sweat. Mo'at grunts at his presence flashing a glare toward her grandson at what he allowed to happen. Neteyam sits beside your resting figure not daring to turn away from you for a minute. You have been asleep for over 15 hours now and Mo'at instructs Neteyam to wake you up while she gathers more herbs. Neteyam can't bring himself to respond to his grandmother instead he rubs his thumb across his lover's cheekbone beginning the process of waking her up. You begin to wake feeling someone touch your face, your eyelids flutter rhythmically hearing a familiar voice speak out to you. "Come on, baby. It's time to wake up," Neteyam says letting the pet name slip past his lips for the first time in weeks.

You start to sit up only to be pushed back against the hammock while being spoken to, "No don't move honey". Your eyebrows furrow as you start to gather all your senses again, this voice belonged to someone you did not want to see. You don't spare him your normal loving smile or soft-spoken words to him. "Why are you here Neteyam", his ears lay back a little at the harsh words but he nods agreeing that he deserved that tone. "I was scared. What mighty warrior is scared to love such a beautiful woman?" his voice cracks for what seems like the 10th time. Your ears pin back similar to Neteyams hearing him talk bad about himself, even through anger his pain is your pain. "I was scared to love you, I am an adult yet I was still scared of my father's disapproval. My foolishness made me lose the person I held closest to my heart... you".

Your feeble hand clasps over your mouth finally hearing the words you longed for. This was a declaration of Neteyam's love for you in every form imaginable. A tear rolls down your cheek and you shut your eyes tightly as sobs begin to take over your body. Neteyam hovers over your hands on both sides of your face where they used to lay every day. "Y/n I can't live this life without you. Oel ngati kameie". You would've bared this pain a million times over again just to hear those three words slip past his lips once more. Your hands fall on top of his tears running down your cheeks quickly faster than they ever have before. "Oel ngati kameie ma Neteyam," you say opening your eyes to see his expression brighten much like it did the day you accepted his courting advances. Seeing his bright smile beckoned more hiccups of tears out of you, Neteyam leans in more speaking comfort like he should've before, "it's alright, I'm here now". You nod closing your eyes for a moment and taking a much-needed inhale of air. Another moment passes by and a cough sounds through the hut signaling someone's presence, you were convinced Neteyam would detach himself immediately but he stayed glued to you. As if he could read your thought Neteyam reassures you, "I'll never turn away from you again".

Note: I seen these people ask about part 2 so here yall are. @nyotamalfoy @leeblackworld-blogg

[usmsgutterson]

Hey !! I’d like to request Jesper finding the reader in a depressive episode, like they‘ve been in bed all week, their room is a mess, they haven’t changed clothes, and their hair has started to become matted, something that’s more focused on the “gross” side of depression. Also I call the emoji alien emoji or pixel emoji :^) - 👾

Brighter Days- J.F x gn! reader

Okay, hi! This took me longer than I anticipated because I wrote relentlessly for three days straight and then was shocked when I fell into a bit of a writing slump and the exhaustion from the cold I've been dealing with for the past week or so finally got to me, so I'm sorry that writing this has taken me a bit.

Your other requests will probably come out closer to the end of the week if not the weekend, but yeah! Thank you for being so patient with me, it means a lot :)

Fic type- this is hurt/comfort with fluffy undertones

Warnings- jespers guns are mentioned, the reader is depicted exactly as requested, matting has started in their hair, their room is a mess. This is not an attempt to glorify depression on my end but rather a reminder that you don't have to suffer alone all the time, and if this romanticizes depression in anyway, I apologize and feel free to reach out and let me know so that I can make the necessary adjustments.

None of the crows had heard from you in weeks. It’d started when you’d turned down a job that you wouldn’t’ve, ordinarily. When you made up an excuse as to why you wouldn’t be able to do it and called it a day.

Then, when Jesper and the rest of the crows got home and Jesper didn’t find you on the bottom floor of the Slat, drinking a brandy or working behind the bar, regretting your having decided to skip out on the trip and the excellent money that came from it, he had the first idea that something could’ve been wrong. 

Even when you had nothing of real significance to do on the bottom floor of the Slat, you could always be found at a table in the corner, drinking your iced drink or alcohol of choice in the spring and summer, your hot drink of choice in the winter and fall. You’d always be reading, an oil lamp to illuminate your space placed onto the table at which you sat, the book you’d chosen sitting in the way you preferred as you read and occasionally annotated.

It’d been six weeks since Jesper had last seen you, and when he asked around, he found out that it’d been at least a week and a half since anyone had last seen you. 

You’d made a run to the shops while, according to Pim, looking fresh off a long cry, and nobody had seen you since you’d gotten back, a few bags with the essentials draped over your arms. 

Jesper immediately made it his prerogative to see if you were okay, and as he walked to your room on the third floor, some part of him wondered if the reason you hadn’t been seen was because you’d decided that Ketterdam was no longer your home and left, picked up a boat ticket or smuggled yourself on a cargo ship headed off somewhere like Ravka. 

“Y/N?” He asked, one hand ghosting the doorknob. You didn’t respond, and Jesper took hold of the doorknob anyway. He twisted it to the right, finding that it opened, the door having been unlocked.

Jesper stepped into the room carefully, taking it in as his eyes searched for yours in the darkened room, the only light having been the spring sun coasting in through the small window that sat near the ceiling. 

The room was a mess, trash and belongings alike scattered over the floor. You looked like you’d been crying, your hair beginning to mat in some spots. A dent had been made in your pillow where your head had rested most of the time, and Jesper had to wonder how long it’d been since you’d gotten out, stretched your legs and shook out the tension in your arms and back.

“Oh, you weren’t supposed to see me like this,” you said as you met his gaze. “I should’ve kept track of the days.”

“I would love you if we were stuck together in a dumpster,” Jesper said. “I can handle this, Y/N. Will you let me help?” 

“Jesper, no,” you said. “I can’t--you shouldn’t have to help me. I could barely get up for a week and a half. Let me clean up the mess when I’m the one who made it.”

“If I say no and I offer a kiss, what are my chances then?” He asked as you willed yourself to sit up, moving until your back was against the wall, your legs criss-cross on the bed. 

You hummed, pretending to think about it as you registered the dryness in your throat, the ache of your limbs and the exhaustion that you felt from having spent so long trying to fight your own mind. 

Four weeks, you’d managed, without slipping into the beginnings of a depressive episode. 

Week five came, you grabbed what you needed when you wanted to feel the sun against your skin and see if the vitamin D would be of any help. The depressive episode had begun in the middle of that week.

Week six donned on you and you could barely fathom the idea that you had to keep fighting against yourself to keep breathing, to keep blinking, to avoid just sinking into your mattress and ceasing to exist. 

“No,” you said, trying to bring an air of finality to your tone but finding that you just wanted to sink into your mattress and cease to exist. “No, Jesper.”

“I love you more than words can ever express properly,” Jesper said. “Which is why I’m going to spray one of my shirts with some of my cologne, get you a towel, and leave clothes by the shower. What I do while you're showering is my decision, and you don’t owe me anything for it. Does that work?” 

You sighed. “I know what it looks like when I’m being tricked, Fahey,” you said, though the shower was tempting, and you knew that you needed to brush your hair anyway. “But fine. And, for the record, I will be buying you whiskey at the Crow Club and coffee when we meet the others for breakfast at least until June. You’re the love of my life, and if you get to clean my room when I’m at my worst, I get to buy you coffee and whiskey.” 

Jesper hummed, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered before parting, heading to his room to grab one of his shirts, a towel, and a bottle of his cologne. 

You stood carefully, moved to your bathroom.

It was nothing more than a bathtub with a showerhead, a toilet and a basin with a mirror mounted to the wall above it, but the water worked and the temp was adjustable, a luxury that was ill afforded in the Barrel, and the mirror had never fallen off the wall and taken a piece of the wall with it, which wasn't something that many who were apart of the Barrel gangs and lived in their bases could say.

You turned on the water, made sure you had the soaps you needed, and stripped, stepping under the showerhead once the water had warmed up to your preference. You spent a long few minutes just standing under the water, feeling the warmth surround you as you pressed your forehead against the tiled walls. 

You registered, for the first time in a week and a half, it felt like you could breathe again. Breathing properly, breathing and acknowledging the weight of your lungs, the feeling of your skin and the heaviness of your heart, it was something you’d done over the past week and a half, something that had felt like a chore but in that moment felt like a blessing from the saints themselves. 

You washed up, stayed in the shower until your hands had pruned while trying to work out the beginnings of the mats that’d developed in your hair while it was soaked. 

When you stepped out, you found that Jesper had placed a towel atop the toilet seat, a pair of black cargo pants and a maroon Ketterdam University sweater beneath it.

You wrapped the towel around your body and found the comb that you’d used to detangle your hair in situations that were much like that one, used it until your hair was smooth, the mats that you’d begun ridding your hair of in the shower having smoothed out after a bit of fuss. 

You dried your hair off using the flip side of the towel and got dressed in the clothes Jesper had placed on the toilet seat, the distinct smell of his cologne combined with gun smoke from how frequently he'd used his revolvers meeting your nostrils as you pulled the sweater over your torso. 

You stepped out of the bathroom and back into your room as Jesper handed a garbage bag off to Matthias and another to Wylan.

“Hey,” you whispered into the open air.

“Hey love,” Jesper said, turning to you with a grin on his face. “How’re you feeling?” 

“Better than I did two hours ago,” you responded. “I still feel like shit and I’m convinced I’ll remain in this perpetual state of exhaustion forever, but thank you for all that you’ve done for me.” 

“You would’ve done the same,” Jesper said. “I’ve got your six, love. Even when you’re at your worst.” 

You stepped forward, pulling Jesper into a tight hug at that. You pulled away after a few minutes, let him press another kiss to your forehead before pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

Nothing was fixed, really. You still felt like shit and you knew that it would last at least another few weeks as depressive episodes always did, but you had people, you had at least one person, who cared enough to help you and love you even when he’d walked into your room and found it looking a mess. That, in that moment, was all you cared to think about, in the arms of the guy you loved with knowledge that brighter days were ahead. 

[blametheeditor]

A giant manhandling a tiny, like grip too tight and inspecting everything, and putting the tiny in their pant pocket. This would produce so much angst. Also being rolled under a shoe or something like that. For The Plot. Torture them For The Plot. Trust me For The Plot.

For The Plot

For The Plot, I want to sincerely apologize for how long this took for me to respond. I hope you enjoy it! I trusted you for the plot, and I really like the plot, and will definitely need to continue for the plot.

Seriously, thank you for this ask! I truly adored it, and I hope you have a wonderful rest of you day!

The Enigma Known As Scott

Rundown: To torture a Scott, he needs to be human, completely surrounded by giants. Worst part, he sounds like a mouse to them.

Warnings: Cursing, treating people as lesser than, dehumanization, talking over someone, mentions of death, mentions of killing, comprehending barrier

The Editor finally said it was my turn with the Writing Motivation

_____________________________

Scott has always been an enigma to those who work under Fazbear Entertainment. 

On one hand, his name is known by everyone, from the managers of each restaurant to the newly hired night guard. On the other hand, no one really knew who he was, the face and person behind the name. 

Truthfully, it was for the best. If the night guard’s survived the night and realized he hadn’t perished like the recordings suggested, he wasn’t in danger of having someone give him a rightful punch in the face. Not to mention the tempers of a few of the restaurant managers making it clear he’s despised and they wouldn’t hesitate to make his life hell if they ever met. Especially considering he is the only human working for the company.

It hadn’t always been that way. Back when Afton and Henry had been partners, the company had been first established as a children’s restaurant for both giants and humans. As safely as you can when 5 year olds are capable of holding a full grown adult in a fist. But the animatronics had two stages built, a giant and human version they could transfer between to when the other wasn’t playing. 

It was incredibly advanced technology. Meaning when Henry disappeared, Afton didn’t have the knowledge or patience to continue in the practice. And due to being a giant, the restaurants naturally shifted to giant-only locations. 

Of course, that didn’t stop the sadistic man from keeping Scott as an employee. The human could no longer be a waiter like before, but he was well suited to relaying information Afton requested. The perfect errand-boy to continue with assisting on new-hires, reports, inspections, and stepping in when certain things weren’t being done correctly. 

It was all strictly done over the phone, with inspections conducted in the few hours between everyone leaving after the restaurants were locked up and the night guard coming in for their shift. 

He couldn’t do it any other way. Being the only human means every employee is capable of sweeping him up. Pocketing him. Rolling their eyes before not listening to a word he said just because he’s no more than three inches tall to them. It was a matter of keeping his sanity and life intact while working for a cruel man who will never let him quit other than through death. 

Not to mention, he sounds like a squeaking mouse to every giant unless talking on the phone, or they wear a device that amplifies his voice. And unless they live or interact with a human daily, no giant in a giant-only location will have one. 

And despite all of this, Afton still thinks he’s not tortured enough. 

That’s how Scott finds himself hiding under the cashier counter at Freddy Fazbear’s during the restaurant's open hours. With tens of children screaming so loudly he can’t even hear the sound of his heart beating. Trembling from sheer terror because just as he feared, no one can understand him. And Afton lied about having the animatronics unlocked past 6am to help him get safely out of the restaurant. 

He should have seen it coming. Should’ve known the bullshit excuse of needing to test the four original animatronic’s trigger for returning to the stage once the night shift ended was just to get him trapped. Should’ve known the comment of Vincent being out of commission was to warn him the purple man wouldn’t be around to help him. 

It’s not like he could’ve said no. If he called the bluff, Afton would only smile and say it better be done. 

...it’s not like he’s transversed through the giant restaurant before. Albeit without the numerous giants running around without looking down to make sure no one ends up underfoot, or the staff that shrieked and tried to stomp on him when he first attempted to greet them in the hopes Afton was in a ‘good mood’. But he’s done it. Knows where the hidden door his size sits. Can carefully make his way there before escaping in one piece. 

He can do it. 

Scott takes a deep breath. Flinches as someone steps only a few feet away, the shoe longer than he is tall. Scans the area after gaining the courage to lean out a few inches. 

He pales at the sight before him. Of yards of open air between him, and the hallway that leads to his freedom, nothing but long tables meant for parties and giants sitting in every chair offering cover. 

Scott looks at the doors that could fling him across the room when the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, his eyes immediately darting up. 

Bright blue eyes stare at him with interest. Blue eyes Scott knows anywhere. Fear racing through him at the thought of Mike realizing there’s a human in the restaurant. 

Out of the hundreds, possibly thousands of night guards that had been hired, Scott has only personally known a hand full. Mike Schmidt being one of them. 

It’s hard not to. After surviving for two full months, that earns respect in his eyes. So did the fact he hadn’t been screamed at for misleading him about impending death. Cursed at, yes, but he learned quickly Mike cursed at everything. But the young man nearly gained enough trust for Scott to reveal he was human. 

Almost. His terror for what the giant would do won out. And it only got worse once Mike became Mike and Jeremy. Followed by Eggs, and James. Caleb, Fritz. There were too many giants who could spread the information from outside the group of those who got phone calls strictly to ensure they were alive. And once David was added, he knew he could never tell the owner of Fazbear Entertainment or else never get another report sent to him or a single call answered again. 

The thing is, while he has nightly calls with Mike and those who have earned the giant’s loyalty, Mike has never seen him. And he knows better than to hope the guard wears the device to turn his squeaking into the familiar voice over the phone. 

Scott jerks away from the edge, darting into the darkness in the hopes Mike will shrug off spotting a human like he does with almost everything else. Prays that working in place with the sick day guard’s shift is more important than investigating. 

For good measure he moves to the other side of the counter. Winces at the realization his only path is the one with the most movement and least amount of cover. But it’s not like he can wait until the restaurant closes. He missed his chance trying to get to the hallway before the day shift arrived by trusting Afton of all people. 

Scott takes another deep breath, attempting to calm his trembling as he aims himself toward the wall. Because at least there he’s almost guaranteed safety from shoes. Less so from being spotted. 

God, don’t let me die.

He ducks under the counter before starting his sprint. 

Only to scream in fear as a shoe lands directly in front of him. 

“No, no, no!” 

Scott attempts to scramble away, back to the safety of the counter, only to trip over his feet as he falls to the ground. 

Before he can even think, there’s warmth surrounding him. Warmth he is all too familiar with. And then fingers finally appear in his vision. 

“NO-!” 

His scream is cut off as a hand grabs him before he’s squeezed. It doesn’t loosen as he’s being lifted. And any struggle only has the grip get even tighter he can barely breathe. 

Suddenly, the hand frees him, and he tumbles into near pitch black darkness as his scream finally finishes. 

Scott gasps for air as he attempts to see where he is, yelping when everything moves, jolting with what seems to be a giant stepping. A lot more pronounced than when he’s sitting in the chest pocket of Vincent’s uniform. And yet he can’t help but feel like he is in one as he realizes he’s surrounded by fabric. 

There’s a few more steps until everything stops. Scott quickly attempts to stand up, find a way out. Yells as a hand suddenly invades his space. 

“No, let me go, let me go!” 

He kicks at the fingers as they attempt to curl around him. Shoves at the digits in a futile attempt to keep them from grabbing him, not wanting to be squeezed more than his ribs can take. 

Of course, the hand wins, a finger stroking his back, oblivious to his frantic want to get out where is he! 

...those are children screaming. 

Scott nearly stops breathing when he realizes he’s still in the restaurant. The giant might’ve made it clear he better not fight, but he isn’t being taken away from Fazbear’s. Just being held captive in a pocket. A pant pocket of someone just...standing. 

Against his better judgement, he carefully settles down. Terrified what might happen. Doesn’t know who holds him. But they didn’t stomp on or crush him, and they aren’t taking him home to be a pet...yet. 

He doesn’t know how long the giant stands for. He hears a booming voice fairly close, and then the giant begins to walk, this time the hand closing around him the moment he started to fight with the assumption now is when his fate will be determined. 

“We’re alone now, fucker.” 

Scott jolts as the voice rumbles through the air, a voice he recognizes. The voice that says Mike decided to investigate. Trembles with the uncertainty if it would be better or worse to have that giant being the one holding him. 

Nothing happens. Not even a finger nudging him or the hand closing in a warning he better respond. 

“M-Mike?” he begins, shoving at the nearest digit. The hand moves at that, curling around him before he’s lifted out, ducking away from the blinding light until he’s greeted with a familiar smirk. 

“You okay, asshole?” 

Scott stares. Because Mike can’t recognize him. Meaning he’s only a stranger to the giant, and so he will be treated as a random human that was found. And yet he doesn’t know how Mike reacts to humans. 

Will he be let go? Will he be put into a cage? Will they ever figure out it’s him? 

The worse part is he wants to trust the giant before him. He knows Scott can trust Mike. As long as Mike knows it’s Scott. 

“Can you put, uh, m-me down?” Scott attempts, pointing toward the- 

The human goes deathly still as fingers suddenly pinch the arm, unable to move, unable to breathe. 

“Your arm’s fucked up?” 

Scott can only watch as catastrophic digits capable of snapping his arm gently check for injuries. And then the other one is checked just as carefully. 

“Anything else?” 

The giant can’t understand him. And as eerie as it is being watched by eyes as big as his head, he’s being listened to for the most part. Meaning a dramatic and slow head shake should get him to what he wants. 

“Good,” Mike grins. “So do all goddamn humans squeak like the fucking Jerber?” 

At least they’re getting somewhere, and Scott feels better about humans who are strangers not becoming pets by this particular giant. Though it’s safe to assume Mike has never interacted with a human based on that answer. 

Scott hesitates before nodding to earn a thoughtful look. 

“Shit, maybe he can understand you. Want to fucking meet him?” 

Scott finds himself nodding because he doesn’t think leaving Mike’s side would be the best idea. He was grabbed and squeezed before being put into a pant pocket, but the giant clearly has no malice. And if he stays with the guard, Vincent will have an easier time finding him. 

Despite the fear this could go from bad to worse on how Jeremy reacts, Scott can’t help kicking when it seems like he’s about to be put back in the suffocating pocket. At least this giant doesn’t get upset and instead looks at him for an answer. 

“Chest pocket!” 

His pointing manages to convey the preferred method of transportation, even if Mike accidentally drops him a little too high into the hammock of fabric. The point is he was listened to, making the walk much more enjoyable. 

Scott curls into a ball as he finally allows everything to catch up to him. Including the fact he agreed to have a second giant interact with him. About if he wants to try and let them know the lost human is the Scott on the phone. 

He’s safe with Mike if this scenario ever happens again without the revelation. But what if Jeremy won’t let him leave in the fear he’ll get hurt? And what if he tells them and it spreads through the entire group? 

“Jerber!” 

Scott blinks at the realization they’re already at Mike and Jeremy’s apartment, the trembles coming back. Looking up in the hope he can plead to stay in the pocket when the sight of a hand reaching for him cuts it off, replaced with a yell as he’s scooped up effortlessly. 

 He doesn’t have time to orient himself before a finger is ruffling his hair. That earns a hand whacking the intrusion away as he growls. “Michael!” 

“Sorry, asshole move,” the giant concedes. Which only settles Scott’s nerves slightly, unable to help the fact he feels like a pet to the guard. 

“M-Mike!” has Scott whirling around at the greeting. Staring at Jeremy walking closer before the curly haired guard perks up at the sight of a human in Mike’s hand. “W-W-Where did you find a-a human?”

“Bastard was at the restaurant.” 

“Can I h-h-h-hold him?” 

Scott shakes his head. Backs away from the cupped hands waiting patiently for him to be transferred into. “Wait!” 

He didn’t expect Mike to listen, nor for Jeremy to immediately become concerned. “A-Are they okay?” 

Jeremy can’t understand him either. No one they talk to will. As kind as they are, he can’t explain he’s Scott who needs to get back home, or at the very least back to Afton. Because there’s no reason for giants living in a giant-only section to interact with humans. 

“You okay, asshole?” Mike asks. Knowing he’ll only get squeaks, which makes this so much better yet so much worse. 

Even if he wanted to, he can’t even say he’s Scott because- 

...because they’re not talking on the phone. 

Scott waves his arms in a big wait motion before pulling out his phone. Pissed with himself for not thinking about that earlier. 

Tenses as Jeremy jumps when his phone rings before answering it. “Sc-Scott?” 

“Jeremy, I’m the human Mike’s holding.” 

The squeak that made Mike believe that Jeremy could understand him emits as the young giant stares at him in shock. “Scott?” 

“Phone Guy?” 

Scott yells as the hand suddenly turns against him, terror flooding as fingers curl around him before he’s lifted in front of Mike’s face. 

“Asshole, why didn’t you fucking tell me? Are you okay? Did I goddamn hurt you?” 

“Y-You know you can’t h-h-hide i-injuries from Mike,” Jeremy pipes up after he doesn’t respond for too long. Too afraid if Mike is truly upset with him for not saying he was human. 

“I-I’m fine,” Scott finally murmurs. Jumps when he hears his own voice ring as loudly as a giant’s from the phone changed to speaker. 

“Have other giant assholes fucked with you?” Mike asks. The human finds himself unable to respond as he’s carried into the kitchen, breathing in relief as he’s finally allowed to climb onto solid ground. 

He stumbles as both Mike and Jeremy sit down at the table, fingers catching him to find Jeremy watching him with worry. “Are y-you hurt?” 

Scott slowly backs away from Jeremy’s hand before hesitating. “No. Are...are really you upset I didn’t tell you I was human?” 

“No, bastard,” Mike immediately responds. “I’m pissed I grabbed your ass and you didn’t say you were goddamn Phone Guy.” 

Jeremy laughs. “H-He couldn’t squeak Ph-Phone G-G-Guy.” 

“Like fuck he couldn’t,” Mike defends. “I’m fluent in shitty squeaks.” 

“Could’ve fooled me, Michael,” Scott can’t help smiling as he’s gifted with a smirk. It turns into a shout as he whacks at the finger poking his side. “Stop that!” 

“If you promise you’re goddamn okay.” 

“I’m fine,” Scott scowls. “I’ve been grabbed harsher.” 

“Th-Th-That won’t happen anymore,” Jeremy proclaims. Something that should make Scott worried they won’t let him out of their sight. 

Mike nods, and he doesn’t know if he can breathe. “I’m sorry for the shitty grab, but we won’t goddamn do it again unless you say okay. Not even Douche Bag will touch you.” 

And that’s when Scott realizes he should’ve told them a long time ago. The promise at least one giant at every location will be there for him if Vincent isn’t lurking in his shadow. 

“...can we hold off on telling Eggs and David?” 

“M-M-Maybe we never d-do,” Jeremy suggests, wincing at the realization Scott is handheld to all of them. 

“They pull shit on you, I’m fucking stepping on them.” 

“Until then, you’re getting earpieces so I don’t have to call you to talk.” 

Scott freezes when the last of his sentence doesn’t make the air rumble, looking up at Jeremy in confusion before the giant’s phone is looked at the same time the human spots the ‘disconnected’ words on the screen. 

“S-Sugar, it died.” 

“Fuck.” 

“Jerber’ll charge it,” Mike waves, smirking down at Scott as the younger goes to plug in his phone. “Wanna help cook lunch, Phone Guy?” 

“No,” the human begins, glancing toward the rest of the kitchen with silverware he could sit in. “Sounds like disaster waitING-!” 

Scott yells as he’s swept into a hand. The hand of a certain guard who looks more than happy to have his mentor so easily grabbable. 

“That was a fucking ‘yes’ squeak.” 

“Michael!” 

“Uh, M-Mike?” Jeremy quickly intervenes, Scott well aware his dramatic squirming that’s more based on principle rather than true anger is being watched with concern. “You shouldn’t h-hold him wh-wh-while y-you cook.” 

Mike hums in thought. “Counter or Jerber, Phone Guy?” 

Scott huffs. Points toward Jeremy. Admits he doesn’t mind sitting in the stuttering kid’s cupped hands and far away from the counter being piled with utensils and food. 

“I-I-I can put you o-on the table,” Jeremy murmurs. Beams as the human makes a point to relax completely to state he prefers the giant’s warmth. 

He’ll worry about Afton’s wrath not getting back to his office until tonight later. And hopefully the day when Eggs gets his hands on him, or David getting the opportunity to stomp on him is far away. 

For now, he couldn’t ask for better giants. 

“Can Phone Guy be put in the fucking sauce?"

“No!”

[ashbye]

🌈Hello everyone! I know its been a while but I have finally decided to start writing this! I've been pretty busy so I apologise for not getting this out sooner. I've also just not had a lot of motivation to write things at the moment. Either way I hope you enjoy the story. I just finished watching The Witcher season 2 so I will hopefully be as accurate as I can. This is a part 2 request from @chocotacobread by the way! So thank you to them for it! By the way I just watched Avatar: The Way of Water and my Avatar phase has been rekindled so I might write about that. I literally watched the first Avatar when the movie came out in theaters. Anywho here we go!

Warnings: swears, implied smut, make out

This is the link for part one: part one

Reunited at last Pt.2 - Geralt x f!reader

It had been a long journey so far for the three of you. After learning of Yennefer's death Geralt wasn't sure how to feel, she was a good friend of his. Along with killing monsters and protecting Ciri some new found feelings were starting to surface. You had never told anyone of course, especially not Geralt. The fear of losing what was just rekindled was too overpowering.

Ciri had started to become suspicious of Geralt and you. She had grown tired of watching you two dance around each other. So, she did what she thought was best, and took it into her own hands.

The plan was to simply stir up some realizations in the both of you. She decides that opportune moment for her plan to come into action is now. You were currently collecting wood for a fire while Geralt and Ciri were setting up camp for the night.

Ciri couldn't wait any longer. "You seem quite close to Y/n, don't you think Geralt?" Ciri asks him and after a moment silence he looks to her with a questioning eyes. "I suppose. Why?" She looked away from him towards the blanket she was laying out. "I don't know it's just that you seem fond of her and if I've seen correctly she is quite fond of you to." Geralt stopped what he was doing and quickly turned his head to her.

"What do you mean by that?" Ciri was struggling to hide her smirk as she responded "Oh just you know." Geralt's eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed. "Ciri.." he said in a low tone. Deciding to leave it at that, Ciri got up and started walking off. "I'm gonna go check and see if there are any bags left on roach."

Geralt stared at her back as she walked away. What she said circled his mind and he tried to figure out what ever that cryptic sentence meant. Coming up with nothing, he sighed and set back to work.

It was this moment when you came back with stacks of wood under your arms. You set them down and looked at the two of them. "What's got you two so quiet?" Ciri shrugged and Geralt only responded with his signature hum and continued with his work.

The next day you and Ciri were packing up your things onto Roach with some small talk. Ciri decides that now was the time to subtly drop her observations into the conversation. "So, you and Geralt huh?" You looked to her in slight bewilderment. "What about me and Geralt?"

"You two just seem very near and dear to each other. What's that all about." You looked back to Roach for a moment before returning your eyes to Ciri. "I suppose we are but I don't understand what you mean by that." Seeing your confusion Ciri was going leave it and you figure it out for herself. She laughed off the question, "I think you know what I mean." You scoffed and looked away. "If you mean to say that I love Geralt than you are far off. He's merely a good friend of mine.-" As you continued to ramble off about how the two of you were just friends Ciri nodded her head and walked off.

You sighed as Geralt came over to you. "What are you rambling about?" You jumped slightly and held a hand to your heart "Shit! We have got to put a bell on you! No matter how large and muscular you are does not mean I can you hear you walking up to me!" Geralt smirked at you and apologized before asking his question again. "Oh nothing, it was just something Ciri said. You know how she is."

"Everyone seems to think I know everything these days it seems." You chuckled at his words and nodded. "Yes well you are the intelligent white wolf, are you not?" He narrowed his eyes and responded "Don't patronize me." You gasped in fake offense as he did his hum of a chuckle. "Me? Why I would never!" You smiled at him as you felt a warmth bubble in your stomach.

You hid your face away in hopes he wouldn't notice you're racing heartbeat. But being a witcher Geralt noticed it right away. He felt a sense of pride overcome him from the realization that he did that to you. Neither of you could tell exactly why you were having these feelings but you could conjure up a guess.

You cleared your throat as started to step back. "We should head out, I'll grab Ciri." Geralt nodded and watched as you walked away your cape flowing behind you.

It was night when you finally stopped at an inn. Geralt wanted to camp in the forest nearby but Ciri begged him to stay in the inn. You were the voice of reason in this situation saying it might be a good idea to have at least one night in an actual bed. Plus you had just enough coin in you pocket for rooms, meals, and housing for Roach.

So here you were at the counter paying for a stable for Roach and two rooms. One for Ciri and one for you and Geralt. As the two of you walked in your shoulders slouched. Geralt looked inside and let out a mumbled "Fuck." You specifically asked for your room to have two beds but there was a mix up and ended up only having one.

"Well there's nothing we can do about it now." You sighed and set down you bag on the small table inside. Geralt walked behind you and set his things down as well. There was a thick tension in the room. It felt as if Geralt's sword wouldn't be sharp enough to cut through it.

You decided to bring up what Ciri said to you earlier that day. "So, Ciri was asking me something this morning." Geralt hummed in response to show he was listening as he was taking off his armour. "She was asking me about how we're so 'near and dear to each other'." Geralt looked to you with furrowed brows.

"And what do you think she means by that?" You glanced at him and sighed while picking at your knife holster. You weren't sure how to respond at this point. Maybe being blunt was the best option in this case. "She's probably talking tension or something like that."

If he was being on honest, Geralt was surprised she even wanted to talk about this at all. Considering how long they've held it off for. His jaw clenched in response as he searched for the correct path to take in this situation. Just as Y/n had thought, maybe being blunt was best.

"I think she might be right." You looked to him with a slight smirk and said "Oh do you?" He gave a light hum as he stared at you, as if that one hum would answer all your questions. You decided to tease a bit to see how far he could go before snapping.

"If you think Ciri is so right, then why don't you prove it to me?" Surprise was evident in his eyes while his face conveyed nothing. No emotion at all. "And how would I do that?" He asked you after a beat of silence. You took a step closer to him. So close you chests were mere centimeters apart. His warm breath ghosted across your cheeks as you gazed into his eyes.

"I think you know exactly how to prove it to me." It only took a second before he lurched forward and placed his lips onto yours. You couldn't describe how it felt in simple words. The kiss felt like pure poetry. It felt like breathing in fresh, forest air. It felt like sitting by the fire with a drink warming the depths of your soul. It was an experience entirely new yet familiar.

You never wanted it to end but the need for oxygen became too overpowering. Your lips pulled away and took in as much air as possible before going right back in. The first kiss was soft and sweet but now, it felt firm and passionate. His tongue lightly grazed your bottom lip asking for entrance. You willingly gave it to him.

Your mouths were partaking in a fiery dance of yearning. Hands gripped at clothes and exposed skin. It didn't even register in your mind that you were being lifted up until your legs rested around his waist. Geralt slowly walked to the bed, laying you down on your back and towering over you.

Before it could go any further though you pushed him away, wanting to make one thing clear. "Geralt, I love you." You panted out with what little air you had. He rested his forehead on yours taking a moment to bask in your words. "I love you too." He grumbled out before slowly taking you lips again.

All throughout the night you and Geralt proved to each other just how much you loved the other. Passion fell through the air until the sun peeked over the horizon. As the light fell into the room, you and Geralt lay in bed with your head on his chest and his arm around you resting on your hip. Your hand drew circles into his skin as you both basked in the afterglow.

You sat up on your elbow with your arm still on his chest. He looked into your eyes as a smile spread across you face. You hand reached up and lightly grabbed his jaw to connect his lips to yours. It was a light kiss that said all that needed to be said in that moment.

From then on the both of you had only grown closer and you promised to stick by each other's side no matter what. That night changed your lives for the better and you're so glad that Ciri had finally grown impatient enough to push you two together. After all it was about time you and Geralt had a proper reunion.

🌈There you go! I hope you enjoyed sorry it took so long!

[raccoonfallsharder]

tiny lil violet anon here!! hh second guessing is really common w creatives (i would know.. i'm a digital artist) but i want you to know that you're probably one of my favourite fic writers and you actually inspired me to start working on a rocket x reader fic of my own a while back!!! (would you mind if i sent you my fic if i ever finished it?)

honestly, i dont think you have to worry about how well you capture rocket's voice bc honestly you're one of, if not the best i've read— your triptych day 17 fic was genuinely mindblowing for example?? your understanding of how different people write rocket is so in depth and the way you made all three renditions of rocket different but so clearly still rocket got me awestruck (do you have any tips on writing the 3 different rockets btw? i'd love to understand more about how you differentiate them! ><)

i remember reading the boring adventures of space pilot and sweatshirt girl for the first time after reading the rocket comics and thinking that helping rocket out on that ferry was exactly what i was hoping someone would write?? it was the fic i needed and didn't deserve LMAO literally every thing you've written has always filled a gap that i didn't know was there & didn't know i needed ♡♡

sorry for the ridiculously long ask ^^; your work genuinely means so much to me and im totally in love with how you write rocket— while ik every artist doubts themselves, i want you to know that the work you create is so much better than you give yourself credit for!

tiny little violet nonnie!! (⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄‸o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝) you precious sweet little flower. please don’t apologize for long asks - i love them (they just take a while for me to respond to). this was also so, so sweet, and the idea that any of my writing means a lot to you kinda makes me teary ♡

i would love to read your fanfic! even if you don’t finish it! you can always send it my way via dms or share via ask if you wanna stay on anon. or post it and tag me ♡ the fact that i was able to inspire you a little bit is honestly one of the most lovely compliments i could receive and it is truly an honor

(｡•́︿•̀｡)

i’m also so grateful that you enjoyed sweatshirt girl ♡ one of my favorite things about fanfiction is that it can give us the stories we need and deserve (or give us the opportunity to write them!). honestly reading grounded all i wanted to do was pick up that raccoon and take him home and feed him warm food and that’s how sweatshirt girl happened ♡o(╥﹏╥)o♡

so part of the reason i took a long time to respond is because i was trying to really think about how i write the different rockets. and i decided i only have one “tip” for you (or rather, one thing that worked for me and which i hope might also work for you.

but you know im gonna take ten paragraphs to get there!

tbh even though i refer to them by their respective authors, i don’t think “i need to write rocket like skottie young” or “i need to write rocket like james gunn.” i think “i need to know rocket, and understand him, and figure out how he would react & interact in skottie young’s galaxy” or “in the mcu.”

my short tip for writing any character is understand what makes them tick. what drives them? what do they long for? how do they hurt? what do they fear? in what ways do their insecurities and survival mechanisms weave together and impact the way they see the world, interact with friends, protect themselves from enemies?

your best tool as a writer of characters is your ability to empathize with them.

know and love your characters the same way you do your best friends. as authors we are playing god with their world and their lives and it’s a little bit of a sacred responsibility to at least make sure we understand them as well as we can ♡

so for rocket specifically…

fundamentally, my personal interpretation of rocket in any universe is someone with profound empathy, who feels pain very deeply. and since he hasn’t had the opportunity to like, see & practice healthy coping mechanisms lol, he has learned to survive by trying to hide that empathy and that pain under layers of calcification and sarcasm and spikes and blades. and it like, kinda works?? but sometimes it ends up hurting people who don’t deserve to be hurt and when he realizes that, the hidden empathy kicks in and he hates himself all over again.

and like many people, rocket also doesn’t really want to give up his pain. people tend to fight to keep their most hurtful memories or vulnerabilities locked inside. they build so much of their identities around them.

so the real question comes down to, what is each rocket’s source of pain? how does that impact how he interacts and thinks? what is his support system at the point in time that i’m like, crashing his party? how does that impact his interactions and thoughts?

skottie young’s rocket gets laid, so he’s not going to be worried about seducing anyone tbh. he’s probably got the most confidence out of all the rockets, at least on the surface. geez, the 2014 run? it’s like. all about his copious ex-girlfriends and about he’s the only one of his kind in the whole universe. if i were gonna write a full fic based on skottie young’s rocket, i’d base my foundation on the idea that the reason rocket has so many exes is because he’s constantly searching for something that he doesn’t believe exists (basically, someone who can make him feel not-alone) and he probably ends up sabotaging his chances every fuckin time he gets close.

ewing’s or rosenberg’s rocket? still canonically gets laid but has gotten treated like dirt enough times — including being betrayed by people he trusts at various points — that he’s always waiting for that to happen. and mcu rocket? that boy is so insecure about his worth on every level that if he has any pleasant interaction with anyone, he’s probably baffled about why the fuck it’s happening.

all this to say: how do you see (each) rocket? how does he move through the galaxy his authors creates for him? and how does that change when you step in and make something different for him?

it’s late here and my brain is foggy so i’m sorry if i didn’t fully and properly answer your question, sweet little violet .｡༅:*ﾟ*:✼✿ all this to say that if i am successful at all in effectively communicating rocket, it’s more about studying (my interpretation of) who he is in each setting than studying a writer’s style, if that makes sense.

ahhh good night, little love. i am an old baba yaga and i must sleep

[mystichanjumin]

Nights Like These

Pairing: Jumin x Mc (reader)

Tags: Fluff, Slight angst

Summary: Jumin is away on a business trip, and although Mc usually accompanies him on these trips she decides to stay home to get some work done. Now she lay restless in their shared bed on night three of Jumin's week-long trip regretting her decision.

It was nights like these, the ones where she lay alone in the bed she usually shared with her husband, that made her feel like she did all those years ago isolated in Rika’s old apartment. It had been ages since Jumin had gone on a business trip without Mc by his side, but she had promised him that she would be fine and that the week apart would fly by before either of them realized; she cursed herself for the foolish decision. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table and groaned at the sight. It was 3:45 in the morning, meaning only three minutes had passed since she checked last. 

With a disgruntled huff, Mc tossed for the up-tenth time that night. As she stared at the ceiling she began to feel the hollowness nestle itself in her chest. If she allowed it Mc knew that the familiar feeling in her chest would consume her, so she took to distracting herself. She reached for her phone, which lay charging on the bedside table, and mindlessly scrolled through her social media. It had worked for a while until she stumbled across a photo of her husband. This was a common occurrence, every company wanted proof of meeting with the successful businessman, and being his wife meant that she often came across these corporate posts. 

As Mc zoomed in on the photo of her husband she took notice of how tired he looked. To those who didn’t know Jumin the way she did, they would assume that the young CEO looked as he usually did, but Mc knew him far better. The look in his grey eyes concerned her, they looked so dull and the bags under his eyes indicated that he was not taking care of himself the way he had promised. Without another thought, Mc dialed her husband’s number. 

The line rang twice before an equally concerned voice answered, “My love, is everything all right? You should be asleep.”

“Are you taking care of yourself? I told you that you still need to take breaks even when I’m not there to remind you. Are you eating well? You know that you forget to eat when you're on these trips,” Mc concluded her loving reprimand with a sigh. 

There was a moment of silence on the other end which was broken by the sound of a bemused chuckle, “I apologize, my love, I will do better to take care of myself. While we’re at it, would you care to explain to me why my wife is awake at such a late hour?” 

Mc knew that he would worry about her if she told him that sleeping in their shared bed without him was nearly impossible, but she also knew that he would see straight through her if she tried to lie, “It seems you’ve spoiled me, Mr. Han. I find it very difficult to sleep without you. It’s only been three days and I miss you so much.”

“I can send for you in the morning. It’s a two-hour flight, and although I hate when you travel without me, I would rather that than you compromise your health due to lack of sleep,” a pragmatic solution to most, but Mc knew the true meaning of his words. He hated being without her just as much as she detested being without him. 

Before Mc could respond, surely to lightly tease the man, he continued, “I fear that it is you who has spoiled me, Mrs. Han. Your health is of the utmost importance to me, but I must admit that my wanting you here is for far more selfish reasons.”

“Oh?” Mc prompted with a smile, “What would those reasons be?”

“I miss my wife,” it was as if he was letting out a breath he had been holding for too long.

“Two hours isn’t so long,” Mc sat up and pulled the covers closer to herself. “Elizabeth has to come with us too, we can’t just leave her here.”

“Of course,” Jumin agreed. 

“A-and I still have work I need to do, so you can’t distract me either.”

“I promise to be on my best behavior,” Mc giggled at Jumin’s mischievous tone. 

“I guess I should get some sleep before my flight tomorrow,” Mc began to feel the familiar pull of sleep for the first time that night. “I have to pack and I have to get Elizabeth ready too. Oh, and I should give the new secretary a run down on how things go when we're both away and—“

“I will take care of that. You just focus on getting yourself and Elizabeth here safely. I cannot stand another day without the two of you with me.”

“Who knew Mr. Jumin Han was such a softy,” she teased lightly. 

Jumin laughed, and it was Mc’s favorite sound, “Only when it comes to you, my love. Now please get some rest.”

“Okay,” Mc whispered as she blushed. “Good night. I love you.”

“And I love you. Always. Sleep well.”

Mc held her phone to her chest once the call ended. The feeling of loneliness she had felt earlier that night was replaced with the warm comfort of knowing that someone loved her so unconditionally. She laid back in bed and let herself be drifted off to sleep. 

[paulgadzikowski]

Blog FAQ. Backdated to 2/22/23 from 2/25/23, mostly to see whether it'd work.

I was @heroofthreefaces for ten years. 2/19/23 that blog was terminated without notice or explanation and, at this writing, with no response to the resultant Support contact form sent. Then I was @d0ct0rwh0 for three days. 2/22/23 that blog was deactivated without notice or explanation. EDIT 3/27/23 heroofthreefaces was reinstated without apology or explanation; I elected to retain paulgadzikowski as my primary.

I'll write a proper FAQ here if this blog lasts long enough that the lack bothers me. Otherwise, I'm scarfman at Pillowfort and at Dreamwidth and heroof3faces at Twitter; and my webcomics are Arthur, King of Time and Space and The Hero of Three Faces.

EDIT 3/9/23 Okay, one thing I should probably mention even before I get around to creating a real FAQ is that I now have a sideblog for separating off all the activism and heavy matters reblogs, called @nosuchthingasaburdenonsociety, so that my main is safe for those who come to Tumblr to forget about life for awhile. Except the new text editor has this funny new quirk so posts end up on the wrong blog sometimes. These posts get tagged wrong blog and usually get reblogged onto the correct one where they are also tagged wrong blog.

FAQ: What do you think of the new text editor? I hate it so, so much

EDIT 3/23/23 Well this blog's survived a month. Time for a FAQ I guess. This entry and every entry on this blog are at all times subject to editing for updates, corrections, and simple clarity.

My name's Paul Gadzikowski and I draw the webcomic The Hero of Three Faces, fanfiction crossovers but it's comic strips with stick figures but they're triangles. For nine-plus years I also drew Arthur, King of Time and Space which functionally was, among other things, King Arthur mashed up with my fanfiction.

Every day that there's an update at Three Faces, the next morning at or about 10:00 (all times US Central) I post a link here to it, which gets pinned to the top of the blog. Every evening at 22:00 I post a link to a "rerun", a cartoon in the archives; the rerun only gets pinned during annual summer hiatus of new updates.

Also I post and reblog fannish things. Doctor Who is my favorite and the Doctor is the primary character in Three Faces, because I've always loved crossovers and there's no better literary and literal device to facilite crossovers than a time machine. The top tier in my pantheon of fandoms consists of all Star Treks, Superman and superheroes (these days more screen than print versions), M*A*S*H, Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel, Star Wars, and Dracula Daily; but anything I watch and read may show up in Three Faces or here, and lots of what my Tumblr mutuals watch and read too.

As noted above I have the side blog @nosuchthingasaburdenonsociety. I can be inconsistent about parsing which posts go on which blog, especially now that the nusternucking new text editor defaults to whichever one where you last posted, instead of defaulting to your main like the old text editor did. And there are some serious topics which never did migrate to the sideblog, like racism in fandom and the coronavirus. Most posts are queued, on both blogs, unless I want to respond to something conversationally, or I'm trying to be the first with the joke, or I feel like it. Barring unusual circumstances I'm posting (firing my queue) 24 hours a day and I probably seem most active the day after I've been most active.

This is a list of my most significant personal tags. As a rule I'll try to use the same ones here as I did there in the same way, though there are a few cases where I took advantage of the opportunity to revise.

I don't have a my art tag like some better-planning bloggers have. There's no one tag that'll show you everything. Fancomics, sketches, cartoon reply, cartoons, and lotrh3f daily ought to catch everything on this blog. At heroofthreefaces you'll want the heroofthreefaces art tag FAQ.

fancomics Three Faces posts, new and archive reruns

fan art Three Faces posts (unless it's AKOTAS instead of one of my fandoms) and others' art that's fan art

other's art Fan art and other art, reblogged, not my art

other's stories Others' writing and fanfiction

my stories My writing and fanfiction

tumblr's stories Tumblr-culture stories, fiction and nonfiction

fanfiction Posts that are, or are about, fanfiction, mine or others'

art Professional or classic art

sketches My drawings just for Tumblr

sketching while scrolling My drawings while scrolling Tumblr (any of these will also be tagged sketches)

cartoon reply When I reblog with a comment but it's in the form of a cartoon

character reply When I reblog with a comment in the form of a cartoon where the character is making a direct comment on the post to my readers (any of these will also be tagged cartoon reply)

chat cartoon reply When I illustrate a chat posted by someone else in a reblog on their post (any of these will also be tagged cartoon reply)

cartoons When I post with a comment in the form of a cartoon reprinted from my old fanfiction site retired when I started Three Faces, or from AKOTAS, or that's just not a sketch or a reply

lotrh3f daily In the vein of Dracula Daily, a mashup of The Lord of the Rings and The Hero of Three Faces tracking Frodo's quest according to the calendar dates in Appendix B. See lotrh3f for commentary.

in my style Redraws of others' art in triangle style. Will also be tagged cartoon reply or one of the other tags listed in the catch-all paragraph above

arthur king of time and space, akotas Cartoons from Arthur, King of Time and Space or using AKOTAS characters, or general discussion of AKOTAS, or (obviously) reprints from AKOTAS

atumblr Discussion of AKOTAS surplus of discussion from the AKOTAS site, or cartoons new here not appearing at AKOTAS or Three Faces

hero of three faces Discussion of Three Faces

behind the scenes May be behind the scenes for my work or for screen franchises I watch

maintenance When I go back and change or fix something in multiple comic strips on the Three Faces site, like changing how I draw a given character's hair for every instance in which they appear

math I have a spreadsheet for tracking the chronological order of the comic strips at Three Faces, the chronology of the screen story cycles which appear there, and many other things about it. And one for AKOTAS

reader response My reblog comments on others' reblog comments on my posts and reblogs

friday night clearing out my drafts What it says on the tin

tags tag For tags I want to remember or keep from duplicating

llol "literally laughed out loud" I only ever tagged things "lol" if I literally laughed out loud before Tumblr so here it's a tag

tags later Something I didn't want to tag because it'd give the joke away, or that I put off deciding what to tag, or that I think I have a tag for that I can't find. Once a week I go back and tag any that are more'n a week old

spoilers I tag spoilers (or doctor who spoilers) (or better omens or best omens for season 2 or season 3 respectively of Good Omens, though that's also what I tag for those seasons generally) for the first week after air/publication/whatever. After the first week I don't trouble to remove the tags, if that matters. I also try to tag teasers (teasers and spoilers are different things, that's why there are different words for them) so if you also don't want to see teasers then you can block that too

tagging the crossover franchise would give the joke away What it says on the tin. Used when a Three Faces is first updated in the link post but generally not when it's later linked as a rerun.

wrong blog Here or on the sideblog this tag goes on a post or reblog that's ended up on the other blog than I meant, due to the conditions noted above in the edit dated 3/9/23. Sometimes when I discover the error I also reblog to the other blog, and sometimes when I do that I delete the original accidental reblog, and sometimes I just add the tag and let it go

I try to tag for others to find my posts but mostly I tag a post so hopefully I'll be able to find it again if I want.

Subject to further editing when I remember other things I wrote for the old blog's FAQ. Owait, now that it's back I can just link to it; check it out.

Thanks for reading.