#but it's not my place to step in either you grow up and realize you were young and stupid or you never make it to adulthood

[daistea]

Might I… request a fic about Kabru and Mithrun (respectively) encountering a succubus that appeals to them by taking on the form of the reader. While the reader is standing Right There

oh my goodness this was so fun for me. However, it was only after I finished writing it that I realized what 'respectively' implied. So this did not happen respectively, I'm sorry. I think it's funnier this way, though, if that's any solace.

If you still want this prompt done for them both separately, then let me know and I'll be happy to do that!

Mithrun x Reader x Kabru (not a love triangle, no established relationship)

2000 words!

no tw except for a very mild implication

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The first sign of danger was the cloying, saccharine smell that consumed every inch of the room. It was as if the air had been replaced with pure perfume created to appeal to a specific victim. 

Kabru’s eyes fluttered as he recognized the scent of Utaya’s fields, especially the moments when the breeze would roll across the wheat and envelop him in a warm hug. Then, there was the hint of Milsiril’s kitchen, which wasn’t a scent he would usually describe as appealing. Yet, it sunk into his skin and made his heart clench.

To Mithrun, the petrichor was faint, but recognizable. It was just a hint in the back of his mind, bringing up a split second memory of the rainy, rolling green hills of the Northern Central Continent. Since the demon, though, he’d never been particularly sentimental of his home. As if the source of the scent read his mind and realized that, the perfume in the air gently switched to something savory, like elf cake. He didn’t care about that either. Again, the scent switched to wildflowers. He didn’t care about that either. And once more—

Succubi were so annoying, so invasive. Mithrun sighed and nudged Kabru with his elbow, “There’s monsters nearby.”

Kabru caught on almost immediately, “Succubi?” Without waiting for an answer, he glanced over his shoulder at you, of all people. His expressions weren’t as well-guarded when with you and Mithrun, and the Captain recognized the concern that flickered over his face. Mithrun’s hand twitched with the urge to grab Kabru by the hair and redirect his stare elsewhere, perhaps onto the life-sucking mosquito monsters that were slowly approaching from the shadows. 

The dungeon was a collapsed ruin, but still traversable to those determined enough. You had insisted on coming with Mithrun on one of his regular explorations of the ruins. Once Kabru had discovered that you were going with Mithrun, he insisted upon coming along as well despite his obvious distaste for the place. There was some deeper reasoning behind his decision, Mithrun knew. Whether or not you knew that, though, remained to be seen. 

There was rubble in the corners and moss growing between the cracks in the stones. One wrong step and the ceiling could easily fall. It was wise to have more than one person when encountering a succubi, yet all the times Mithrun had encountered them in the past had ended up in his favor. The succubi didn’t quite know what to do with him. He cast you and Kabru a wary glance, though— you two were far more susceptible. 

“Just stay close,” Kabru said as he took a careful step forward. He reached out a hand behind him, grabbing for your wrist. You let him take your arm, and Mithrun felt his shoulders tense. 

“The wisest thing to do would be to cover your eyes,” Mithrun mused. As he spoke, he took your other hand. In response to that, Kabru released your wrist and also held your hand. For a moment, you felt like the rope in a game of tug-of-war. It wasn’t the worst feeling, but perhaps one of the most confusing. 

Mithrun and Kabru led you through the ruined room. The shadows were thick and alive with the scuffling of feet, the brushing of wings against the wall. Kabru did his best to hide his concern, but his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed down whatever he was feeling. A quick glance at Mithrun confirmed that the Captain was not at all bothered by the cloying scent of succubi, their calling card and greeting. They could strike at any moment, yet he remained calm. 

“It will be fine,” Mithrun’s voice cut through the tension, “just close your eyes.”

Kabru sent him a look over his shoulder, “‘It’ll be fine’ is easy for you to say, Captain.”

“It is, the succubi have never really known what to make of me.”

You imagined a life-sucking, giant mosquito monster just staring at Mithrun as it tried to process what it was seeing. Yet, just the other day, Mithrun had expressed a small desire for a specific dish. 

You snorted, “Your desires are coming back, though. You never know, it may take the form of an unseasoned elf casserole.”

Kabru put up a gloved hand to stifle his laugh, “Yeah, with boiled chicken and white rice without an ounce of salt.”

You could practically feel the heat of Mithrun’s stare on the back of your neck. “Elven cuisine is an acquired taste.”

“As in… once you actually acquire taste, you’ll move onto much better food?” You asked. 

You would’ve liked to share a high-five with Kabru over that one, but the familiar buzz of a mosquito interrupted the laughter. The three of you froze as a flicker of mana filled the air. Mithrun didn’t seem worried, this succubi obviously wasn’t for him, but—

Kabru put out an arm in front of you as if to shield you from… yourself. 

An exact copy of you stepped out of the shadows. Its eyes were wide with a look that could only be described as desperate desire. Its cheeks were flushed and brows furrowed, every ounce of attention focused precisely on Kabru. 

Both you and Mithrun looked at him. 

Kabru cleared his throat and looked away. The red on the tips of his ears was undeniable. 

How were you supposed to feel about that? Flattered? There was some flattery in it, though it was mixed with mild horror at the absolutely breathless and desperate version of yourself that he apparently desired. Was that what you looked like? You were sure you never made a face like that. (You did, last week when Melini had a heatwave and Kabru had fetched you a glass of water. The memory haunted him.)

To your right, Mithrun raised a shaking hand. His shoulders trembled a little and he closed his eyes. His brows furrowed as he exhaled shakily. He looked as if he was only held together by a thin piece of string and a wad of chewing gum. The sight made your heart skip a beat in panic until you noticed the slight twitch of his lips. 

He was trying not to laugh. 

You choked on air. Kabru also choked on air, but for a very different reason. The succubus copy of you slowly sauntered toward him– you do not saunter like that, you would never saunter in such a manner, with that hungry look in your eyes and your lips parted ever so slightly. Horrifying. But like all good horrifying things, it also made you want to kneel over and start laughing until your stomach hurt. 

“Kabru,” you gasped, barely holding yourself together, “You—”

“Shut up!” He snapped as he took several steps back, “Don’t overthink it! It’s nothing! It’s–”

Mithrun interrupted with a heavy, resigned sigh. He took a casual step forward and touched the succubus version of you on the shoulder. Its eyes widened and it tensed, but before it could react, it was gone. You were pretty sure he teleported it into a nearby wall, judging by the muffled, strangled hisses coming from nearby. 

Kabru was still red, “I can explain.”

“I don’t think that requires an explanation,” Mithrun said flatly. 

“You know what?” He glared, “Not everybody can be as unaffected as y—”

Another buzz, another footstep on the stone floor. The three of you froze once more as another succubus stepped out of the shadows. 

It was also you. 

Fortunately, this version of you was much less desperate. Yet there was something about it that reminded you of a painting in a cathedral. Perhaps it was the look in its familiar eyes, the sheer love and affection it held as it stared at Mithrun as if he was the only person who ever existed. 

“That’s not mine,” Kabru said.

And it obviously wasn’t yours. Both you and Kabru looked at Mithrun. 

The Captain was tense, his body taut like the string of a bow. His fingers twitched at his sides as he stared at the succubus. His good eye was wide and he kept blinking as if that might help clarify the existence of a version of you that looked at him so adoringly. 

He schooled his expression and casually pointed at the love-struck succubus, “That’s not mine.”

“Of course it’s yours!” Kabru snapped, “Who else’s could it be?!”

Mithrun only shrugged. The soft tinge of pink on his cheeks betrayed his feelings. 

Once again, you were at a loss of what to think. It was sweet. Your heart fluttered and emotion filled your throat. Yet, did he truly desire for you to look at him like that? Did he lie awake at night, wondering what it would feel like to have every ounce of your attention on him, to value him so dearly that you were incapable of seeing anyone else? The very idea knocked the breath from your lungs. 

Except, Kabru ran a sword through the adoring, angelic version of you, and the mosquito monster screeched in a very not-you way. Mithrun only grimaced and chose to stare at the wall instead.

“Okay, so hopefully that’s the last of them,” you said. Your cheeks felt very warm. Kabru and Mithrun both desired you, though in different ways. You didn’t think that was possible. There was nothing more you wanted to do at that moment than run and hide and mull over possible explanations for what you’d just seen.

“Wait,” Mithrun stretched out an arm in front of you, “there’s one more.”

Despite his serious tone, awkwardness permeated the air. You were practically choking on it, unable to breathe normally because all your body could process was sheer embarrassment. Kabru’s ears were red. Mithrun looked more dead inside than usual. None of you would meet each other’s eyes. 

The last succubus stepped out of the shadow. First, you saw a brown boot, then a familiar hand, then a familiar face. 

You gasped, holding your chest as if afraid that your heart might burst through your skin. “I-It’s you…”

Mithrun and Kabru both looked at you. “It’s…” Mithrun couldn’t finish his sentence. 

But Kabru could, “Your biggest desire is… The meat pie vendor who sets up shop on the corner on Thursdays?!”

He said it as if that was a bad thing. 

The meat pie vendor smiled seductively and held out a fresh, steaming hot meat pie. You took a step forward, your hand trembling as you reached for the treat. 

“You don’t even want him romantically!” Kabru yelled, “You just want him to give you food!”

Once again, he said it as if that was a bad thing. 

Before your hand could brush along the flaky, warm exterior of the meat pie, Kabru pulled out his sword. Mithrun grabbed a broken piece of wood from the ground. It happened too quickly. There was no time to defend your desire. You gasped as the sword ran through the beloved meat pie vendor’s stomach, and as the wood was teleported through his neck. With an inhuman screech, the succubus collapsed to the floor. 

Your friends, who wanted you, had just killed the one thing you wanted… Your heart was torn in two. 

It was a complete mystery why both Mithrun and Kabru stormed out of the dungeon without saying one word to you. You were the one that should’ve been mad. 

Still, as you took Kabru’s hand in your left and Mithrun’s in your right, they both gave your fingers a light squeeze. 

Still, “We’re never doing this again,” Kabru said. 

Mithrun nodded. You grimaced. And none of you ever spoke of it again. 

[joemama-2]

A Series Of Awkward Events: The Grocery Store Encounter

You can feel it, really feel it. I mean, who wouldn’t feel the lingering gaze of the very attractive, teenaged boy standing right next to you in the, suddenly empty, aisle. You’ve been coming to the grocery store every Saturday at exactly 9:30 in the morning, making it a routine. This was mainly because if you came later, you’d be caught up in the rush of families who also decided now would be a good time to stock up on groceries. You couldn’t come earlier because…well you just couldn’t wake up earlier.

You’ve been seeing him for about three weeks now. Every week, he’s in the same aisle as you, looking at the brands of cereal while your eyes gloss over the brands of oatmeal. You didn’t notice it the first time, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize someone is staring at you. And in all honesty, he doesn’t seem like he’s trying to subtle about it either.

Either way, it’s not like you would go out of your way to spark up a conversation first. You’ve lived a very sheltered life, from being homeschooled til earlier this year to having very strict parents, it’s safe to say your social skills are…not up to par. Finally, you decide you’ve had enough of the glances. Your hand reaches out to hurriedly grab a random oatmeal, one you’ve never had before, just to get out of the aisle. However, just as you’re about to turn and leave, his voice cuts through the air.

“That one’s not good, had it before and wouldn’t recommend.”

You stop and slowly turn around to face the boy. He’s grinning now and is it bad to say he has a pretty smile? You shoot a quick look down at the oatmeal in your hands before back at him. Your lips part but the words don’t come out. Damn it. Just staring awkwardly at him with your mouth opening and closing, you just wish the world would swallow you whole. But then, by the grace of whoever’s watching, something comes out.

“Oh.”

Is that really all you can say? A few seconds of silence pass before the boy lets out a small chuckle and damn, it’s almost prettier than his smile. “It tastes bland, almost like cardboard.”

Still, it’s hard to find the right words. He raises an eyebrow at your lack of responses, only then do you realize that you’ve just been shamelessly staring at him. Your hands grip the oatmeal tighter, either for comfort, or a way to silently curse yourself for acting so stupid in front of a boy. A cute one….a really, really cute one. “Oh, that’s—uh—unfortunate.”

He laughs again and you already grow addicted to it. “Want my suggestion?” You hesitate, before nodding. Taking a small, stiff step closer to the boy, you look back at the variety of oatmeal, watching as he points to a specific one. “This one is my favorite, it’s sweet, but not too sweet. Sweet enough to still qualify as a breakfast. Or a snack.”

You reach forward to grab the said box, examining it. With another nod, you put the old, now dented box of oatmeal you first grabbed back in its original place. “Thank you, I’ll…I’ll be sure to enjoy this.” You say with a nod, eyes not even fully looking at his. How could they when they’re the most beautiful pair of blues you’ve ever seen?

Then, of course, another silence, as if he’s expecting you to say something else. Why would he? Can’t he already tell you’re awkward? Can’t he read the room? Your body language? Apparently not. “Gojo Satoru.” He says. Oh, he’s introducing himself. That means he must want to know your name too, right?

“Y/N.” You say timidly, holding your hand out for a shake. Man, this is way too formal of a greeting for grocery store. That same grin makes its way to his face, soon clasping his hand with yours. God, you really hope he doesn’t feel your hand sweating. Or the slight trembling of it. That would be completely embarr—

“Your hand’s wet.”

You freeze, a big wave of embarrassment and shame flooding you. Just as quickly as he said that, you’re retracting. “Sorry, I just washed them.” A blatant lie, but who cares? You’re honestly just trying to get out of this situation now. Yeah, he’s cute, but you’d much rather save your confidence, at least whatever you have left of it, for something you’re more prepared for.

For the first (?) time, you meet his eyes. With a small gulp, you decide now is the chance to run away. “Um, thank you for the oatmeal. It was nice meeting you. Good day.” You take off like you’re on a mission, not even daring to look back. Your face scrunches up and you cringe hard at what just happened. ‘Good day’? What are you, a fifty-year-old man who just saw his colleague for the first time in five years?

It takes a while for you to finish up shopping, considering you’re checking every aisle before you walk into it to ensure that the boy, Gojo Satoru, isn’t in it. Running into him again seemed inevitable, but you made sure that it was possible. It’s almost like a breath of fresh air when you walk out, bags in hand, making your way down the familiar route to your house. It’s a nice day out, very sunny and clouds just clouding.

But of course, things never seem to go your way, do they? Because with one more step, one more snap of the stupid paper bags you were given, one of the bags in your right hand just completely rips. Fruits go rolling down the pavement, bread falling to the puddle of water below your feet, and your dignity washing away down the sewers. Your eyes widen, freezing in place. Lips part as a small, almost unbelievable breath leaves your mouth. It’s a sad scene, really.

So very slowly, embarrassingly, you kneel down to grab your fallen groceries, to stuff into the other two bags that haven't miraculously ripped. It takes a while for a task so small, considering you're holding back tears. You spot the last apple a few feet away and begrudgingly crawl to get it. But a hand beats you to it.

You look up, confused and slightly shocked, but see the boy you just worked very hard on avoiding. Oh Jesus Christ, just how much worse could this day get? "Missing something?"

The hand that was about to grab your apple freezes in mid-air as you contemplate your next move. You nod curtly and he holds it out to you. Your fingertips brush against each other and you can't help the stupid flutter in your stomach. Swiftly, you put the apple in your pocket, having run out of space in your other bags, and stand up. He watches this whole ordeal, even attempting to offer you help, but you don't take it.

You find yourself in another awkward position, but luckily you find your voice sooner. "Thank you."

He smiles, letting out a huff of a chuckle through his nostrils. "No problem, what kind of guy would I be if I didn't help you?" Is that a rhetorical question? You're not sure. He looks down at the bags. "You gonna be alright with those?"

"I will." You say a little too quickly.

While he nods, you look down at his hands. Only then do you realize he's not even carrying anything. He probably sensed your confusion, so he follows up. "Couldn't find anything."

It's a shitty excuse but do you really care enough to question him. So you nod again, lips forming a small line. "Okay..."

"Okay."

You two stare at each other for another few seconds before you turn to leave again, but he stops you. "Are you new to the area?"

Now you don't know what's worse, your classmates being shocked by your existence even though you have been with them for months now, knowing somebody else's name but then not knowing yours, or being questioned about your residency simply because you rarely go out and oh, you have no friends.

You swallow down the lump in your throat and turn your head over your shoulder. "No."

"Oh, really? I've just never seen you around before." That's another knife to the chest. "I know most of the people in this neighborhood, that's why. Usually, when I see a new face, it means they've just moved here."

"I'm not new." You say, now turning your body fully around to face him. "I just like staying inside."

His eyebrows raise, as if shocked. What's so shocking? Was he so popular that the concept of a homebody was beyond him? Well, not like you were being a homebody by choice, it's just something you've grown accustomed to. Something that's now hard to break out of.

"Well, I like staying inside too," He concedes, "But I also like meeting new people. Especially the cute, quiet ones in grocery stores." You hate how your cheeks instantly heat up, nerves taking over. He notices this, taking just the smallest step forward.

"I...didn't run away." You feel the need to justify yourself. "I just need to go home soon."

"Ah, right. Home." He says with a small laugh. "How far is that from here?"

"Why would I tell you that?"

"Just asking."

"We're strangers."

"Well, we could be friends."

Your eyes slightly widen. Friends? Someone actually wanted to be friends with you for once? For a second, you think it's a joke, one that's set up by his friends. You've had way too many experiences like that. Looking around, you conclude that he is in fact all alone. Hesitance settles within you. "Why?"

He huffs. "You're asking why I want to be friends with you?" His question makes you feel dumb.

"Yes, I am." You say, brows furrowing together. "You could be playing a trick on me for all I know."

"Why would I do that?"

"I don't know, but I'm just making sure."

He gauges your reactions to see if you're being serious or not. Once he sees that you are, he sighs. "You seem like a nice person, I like nice people. So, why wouldn't I want to be friends with you?"

You mull over his words for a good minute, having an internal battle with yourself. Is he trustworthy? Does he actually mean what he says? How do you know he won't pretend to now know you next time he sees you? All sorts of questions run rampant in your mind and he can tell, easily. "I'm serious, I wanna friends with you."

You inhale deeply, scrutinizing him before finally saying, "Okay."

He lets out a sigh of relief. "Phew, that was harder than usual. You know, most people agree quite quickly. But you didn't so it makes me even more curious about you."

"Even more?" "Mhm." He steps closer. "I was also curious about your number, but you ran before I could ask."

Damn him, you already said you didn't run away. But at the mention of a number, you can't help but look away. This confuses him. "I....um....I don't have a number." You murmur.

Now his head tilts, convinced you're just making up a lie so you couldn't give him it, which would be understandable. "You don't have one?" You shake your head. "What do you mean you don't have a number?"

Oh god, he's gonna make fun of you, isn't he? "I don't have a phone."

His lips part, letting out a small "oh" and nod in understanding. "So like, you're one of those people who their parents have a tight leash on."

This makes your eyes narrow. Although you want to argue that no, you have a lot of freedom, a part of you agrees. You keep your eyes turned away from him. "Please don't say that."

He runs a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I'm just honest. I mean, what, you're like a teenager and you don't have a phone? Everyone needs a phone now, everyone has one."

"Well, I don't." You quip back, now glaring at him. "I don't have one, you can stop pestering me about it now.

"I'm not pestering, just shocked." You hold back an eyeroll. "So what do you have then?"

"I have a computer, I use it for school." You let out a slow sigh, biting on your lip. "I could...give you my email."

He stares at you for a moment. "You want me to...email you?" When you don't respond, he barks out a burst of laughter. "Email? Email you? Instead of text? Or even call? Wow, that's--"

"You either take it or you don't." You cut him off, a newfound sense of bravery in you. "I don't need a friend who will make fun of me."

This gets him to stop almost immediately. His head tilts as he stares, a sympathetic expression on his face. "My bad, I wasn't trying to." You say nothing in response, an almost defiant look on his face. One that makes him feel like laughing because you just look so adorable right now. With a deep breath, he smiles that sweet smile again, and with a jut of his chin, he replies. "What's your email?"

----------

bonus:

You check your email that night to one from 'thestrongest69'.

"Same time next week? ^.^"

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: Izutsumi! and Elves

Chilchuck my love, you so fucking asked for that one.

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You woke him from his nap!!

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Asfslkfjsk was the fact that Senshi accidentally made this guy in the show? I don't remember it.

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I love how this fight showcases how fast Izutsumi is. Girl's got a Dex of like 22.

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Fuckin' tragic that this is just a chapter cover and they never actually, so far as I'm aware, dress in sheepskins the way they dressed in frogskins.

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Not to be Edgy(TM) but I'm pretty sure that by this definition, humans, especially magic-users, are also "monsters."

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The green-growing, snow-free cavern with the barometz suddenly appearing is I'm pretty sure the most blatant the dungeon has been so far about giving people what they want - except possibly for this usually hot & humid floor being freezing in the first place, just because Laios said he didn't like the heat.

I hope it keeps doing this sort of thing after he becomes king. I know that's not how this works but god I love a sentient land, especially one that tries to accommodate its people. Alas that this one's all a honey trap for flies.

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It's very clear to me that, while Izutsumi may genuinely prefer to avoid strenuous effort, either physical or emotional, most of her argument with Marcille in this chapter is about her testing the boundaries of the group's tolerance for her. Where she was before, they'd tell her, "You'd think you could be a little more grateful to us for taking you in." And this is a philosophy that Tade, Izutsumi's closest friend and the one other subordinate-due-to-species person among them, bought into:

Izutsumi was skeptical...but that's still what she lived with. Until now, with this new group, where she's getting mixed messages - or, what feels like mixed messages, between what the group does and says and what she thinks they're saying based on her past experience.

Chilchuck calls her a beast, then basically has her act as distracting bait for a dangerous period of time while the rest of the party (is busy being injured or tending to the injured) does nothing to help, and all Chilchuck does to help Izutsumi kill the ice golem is mark its weak point for her. But then he compliments her skills, apologizes for being rude, and gives her her own pack and bedroll, truly welcoming her to the group. And when she remarks sarcastically that nobody cares about a beast being naked, Marcille only redoubles her efforts to help her keep her modesty, while the others bind Laios's eyes because he's the one who's going to Make It Weird - not Izursumi. Laios stays blindfolded throughout the steam bath scene because the party respects Izutsumi as a person.

So then she starts that fight over food, partly because she genuinely doesn't want to eat gross things - and more importantly, doesn't want to risk becoming even more a monster than most people already view her. But also because she wants, perhaps subconsciously, to see what happens when she's "supposed" to be a "team member" now but she disobeys the more senior members of the group.

This chapter threads two needles, builds two distinctions: between "earning your place" and "pulling your fair weight", and between "doing things you don't like for others (on their orders/for their goals)" and "doing things you don't like for you (for your own goals)." I think it...could do better at it? Like, Tade is kinda failing at step 1, because it's not clear to me that she realizes needing to "be useful" in order to stay is inherently fucked up. But she DOES think of that as her personal goal, even if it's actually externally imposed, and she's okay with putting in hard, sometimes unpleasant work in order to achieve it.

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Kabru internally, triumphantly: CAHOOOOOOOOTS!

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{fond sigh} the Elves from the West on their white ships with avian figureheads... They may be dicks, but we do love a Tolkien reference.

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CANARIES IN THE COAL MINE. I have NO idea if that translation is intended but my god I love it. If it's deliberate, is it a subversion of that concept or is it an indication of what the Elvish government thinks of their crack team of dungeon-delvers?

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BIGGEST, BLUEST EYES OF PERFECT* HONESTY*...followed by the visible pupils of honest evasion. Man, I'm really enjoying the Shuro-Kabru dynamic here, too? Shuro like, "Don't bullshit me. I'm a prince. I'm willing to help, but I know a politician when I see one." They vibe, your honor. They bonded over one of the weirdest and most traumatic meals of both their lives.

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LMAOOOO. This was NOT in the show!

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I love how Namari greets him excitedly and immediately asks for news of Falin, and Shuro says nothing but, really, everything; and Namari changes the subject to something lighter that's still gossip about their friends. I don't really expect it to happen but I'd LOVE to see the whole old Touden party reunite in battle or just around a campfire again, because it's clear they were a very good party of dungeon-competent people who worked and got along well together.

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Srsly though the opening view of this scene is such eloquent dynamic-establishing, vis a vis the elves relationship with the Island Lord and, well, everyone else here. We heard people muttering nervously in the streets, we heard Kabru's brief but heartfelt story of Utaya... And now we get this:

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The words of a man who would definitely for sure not have a single problem, not a one!

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Wait, what shady side business did Shuro have?! I love that Chilchuck is objectively the most reputable person in the party... Except really he fits in with the others: I bet a lot of parties don't want to hire That Bitchy Pushy Halffoot, any more than they want to hire an Easterner with weird vibes or the daughter of an infamous thief. (Or a mysterious elvish mage who won't explain her real reasons for wanting to explore dungeons, but Marcille would've joined the Touden party anyway, for Falin.)

It shows how Laios's trust of others pays off just as often as it doesn't.

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THIS IS IT, THIS SORT OF IMAGINE SPOT IS WHY I LOVE KABRU VERY MUCH.

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THE WORDS OF A MAN WHO WILL DEFINITELY FOR SURE NOT HAVE A SINGLE PROBLEM, NOT A ONE!

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...hot.

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kitty cat

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I like how this sort of comment is obviously genuinely hurting Laios, and Chilchuck does kinda genuinely mean it, but also he's saying it more reflexively than anything. Laios says or does something Particularly Fucking Weird; Chilchuck comments and keeps going along with him. I do look forward to Chilchuck growing accepting of Laios's weirdness rather than just resigned, but it's a good character beat all around.

[catcatb0y]

Me: I am having a really bad brain day. Like all it takes is one little push and I'm gonna fall apart.

Tumblr: Do yoy want BPD memes??? Constantly tagged 'Actual BPD' and 'Borderline Personality Disorder' and 'BPD Mood'???

Me: Ah shit, why are those relatable wtf??

Tumblr: How about self harm posts that type like tw cvts and s3lf ha//rm and censor d3press10n

Me: Wow I magically don't feel like I'm spralling into insanity.

PSA don't censor your goddamned fucking tags. If you're gonna post about cutting and self harm and smoking and replasing and you fucking type it out like #cvts s3lf #ha//rm #d3press10n go back to fucking Twitter and TikTok or learn to properly tag your goddamned shit.

Stop censoring your fucking trigger tags, you assholes. No one is going to learn fifty different fucking ways that you want to spell legitamate fucking triggers because you are typing in The TikTokified Fucking L33T sp34k.

If you're fucking tagging a goddamned trigger, type out the whole fucking word. People blocking out #pro ed and #self harm (like me!! who has both of those tags blocked!!) STILL sees your fucking vent posts because y0y typ3 l!k3 th1s so no 0ne s//ees y0ur posts while you romanticize being a direct danger to yourself.

[gogobootz1]

Dog Day Afternoon

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: New to town but oh-so sought after, a few stumbles might just lead you to love

Word Count: 3k

Dearest Gentle Reader,

Today, I write with news from the North. The reclusive Duke of Devonshire has come to London. It seems that after the death of his younger brother some time back, he is determined to find his eldest daughter, the new heir, a husband. The lady is supposedly very beautiful and will no doubt consume all of the attention of eligible young bachelors. I only bid good luck to her competition, as they will surely need it.

The fluffy tails of your two best friends could not keep still. The black Newfoundlands you had trained from puppyhood loved carriage rides, mostly because they loved meeting the horses before and after. You were sure they'd grow even more excited when you arrived at the park.

As the carriage slowed, you smiled, eager to get them some exercise. Your maid stepped out first, and you momentarily handed her both dogs' leads. Accepting a hand down from a footman, you turned to take them back when they broke free of her grasp entirely. Worse yet, they took off at a run.

You called after them, then whistled, but they were determined. Usually, they didn't give you any trouble with recall. Reaching for the dog whistle you kept on your person, you found nothing.

Without a second thought, you took off after them.

"My Lady!" Your maid called from behind you, panicked. You paid her little heed, anxious to have your babies back safe.

Park patrons stood as your dogs, followed by yourself, ran past. They gawked openly at the strange scene put on by an unknown young lady.

You were relieved when they slowed, but it didn't take long for them to sprint off again. They rounded a corner, quick as lighting. You kept after them, unable to see the obstacle around the bend.

Crashing right into someone's back, the two of you stumbled. The poor gentleman in front of you took the brunt of the impact, but you didn't have time to stay and make a formal apology. Staggering a bit, you resumed your chase.

"Sorry!" You yelled over your shoulder.

"Wait! Miss," the man called after you but gave up as you ran further away.

When your dogs ran off the path and into a clearing where people were picnicking, you grew really worried. Chasing after them on a trail was one thing, but ruining the outings of fellow nobility would be an altogether worse embarrassment.

You stopped in your tracks when you realized who the boys were scampering up to: your little sister. Abigail sat on a blanket with a girl who looked to be about her age. In her mouth was the dog whistle. You tended only to use that whistle when you took them out in the woods, and you'd trained them to run back to you at the sound of it. It gave you peace of mind knowing that you could call them back at any time if they went too far off in the forest or on one of your walks.

Abigail seemed pleased to see the two of them. A surprised grin graced her face as she patted them. They were even happier to see her, showering her in kisses. "Hoo-y? Moo? What are you doing here?" She giggled.

Her laughter stopped when she saw you stalking over. Thoroughly out of breath, you crossed your arms when you reached them. The three of them looked guiltily up at you. With a snap, your dogs came to sit on either side of you. Although your countenance was thoroughly enraged, scratching behind both dogs' ears decreased your intimidation factor.

"Why on Earth did you steal that?" You nodded toward your whistle.

"I think it makes for a chic necklace," Abigail said defensively. You stuck a hand out, and she reluctantly placed the whistle she'd put on a chain in it.

"And why on Earth were you using it?" You asked expectantly.

She held her hands up in surrender, "Miss Hyacinth was skeptical that the whistle could not be heard with human ears. I was simply showing her how it worked." Abigail was clever- you'd give her that. You could hardly scold her in front of her companion, and you wouldn't dream of scolding the other young girl for something so clearly not her fault. Using her as a human shield was a cowardly tactic by your sister, however. "And I thought you weren't arriving until later!"

"They were antsy. I figured I could abandon the harp in favor of allowing them some exercise," you explained, then glared at her, "This was not the type of exercise I had in mind."

"But Hoo-y and Moo love running free," she pouted at you.

"They are not allowed to run free in public spaces where I must chase after them!" You snapped at her. Crouching to get closer, you reached into your purse and gave both dogs a scrap of jerky. "Huginn and Muninn are both well-behaved gentlemen, and you may have tarnished their good names by causing this wild romp!"

"Huginn and Muninn? Does that make you Odin?" A deep voice called from behind you. You rose and turned to see a tall, handsome gentleman with dark hair.

His question took you by surprise. Most people did not understand their names. You blinked for a second before collecting yourself, "No." It was hardly a smart reply, but it was the most you could manage after chasing your dogs a few hundred meters. You shook your head a little, vaguely embarrassed by your answer, before turning back to the girls.

"Would you please excuse Lady Abigail, Miss Hyacinth?" The bright young lady nodded at you with a pleasant smile before you even finished speaking, "The least she can do after causing such trouble is help me walk the dogs." You directed the last part toward your sister, who reluctantly stood. Taking one of the leads from your hand, she bid goodbye to her companion before walking off. You nodded at the young lady and the handsome stranger before following after her.

Benedict watched you walk away from his sister's picnic spot, only slightly removed from the rest of the family's. He collapsed down next to Hyacinth and stole a grape from her plate, "Who was that?"

"My new friend, Abigail," she replied, smacking his wrist. He ate the grape anyway.

"And the older one?"

"Her sister," Hyacinth looked at him skeptically, "why do you ask?"

Benedict thought of how you'd practically pushed him to the ground in the middle of the walkway, then ran from the scene. "No reason," he shrugged.

——————————————

The first ball you'd be attending was later that evening, and you were incredibly nervous. Sat on the floor of the library, you brushed through Muninn's coat in an attempt to calm your nerves. Waiting for your father to finish changing was making you even more anxious, the dread just building up in your body.

"Why are you on the floor?" His voice finally came from the doorway.

"His coat needed brushing," you shrugged innocently. The Duke waved at you to come join him, and you stood, brushing some fur off yourself. Muninn stood, too, and closely followed as you joined your father.

"You're only lucky he didn't slobber on you," your father shook his head at you fondly, offering his arm.

Taking it, you made one last bid to skip the event, "Remind me why we are attending this?"

"A future Duchess needs a husband," he said simply.

"Does she really?" You asked wryly.

"No," your father answered seriously, causing you to stop. "Well, only if she should like a Duke or Duchess of her blood to follow in her footsteps," he tugged on your arm to keep you walking.

That only made you feel worse. While before you felt nervous, guilt was now in the mix. What if that didn't happen?

"If you never marry, I will not love you any less," he revealed. "I only ask that you try," your father asserted, "but if there is nary a man up to snuff, I would have you die a spinster." You laughed at that, feeling some pressure relieved. He joked with you for the duration of the carriage ride and up until you were announced at the ball.

"Now presenting; His Grace Daniel, Duke of Devonshire, and his daughter Lady-"

The entire company of the room turned to watch the two of you descend the stairs.

"What? Is there something on my face?" Your father whispered to you jokingly.

"Oh, only that awful mustache," you whispered back playfully. You caught the corner of his lip twitching as he tried not to laugh at the jab at his expense.

A few more seconds of staring had you whispering to him again, "I see now why you never leave the house." That earned a huff of a laugh from him.

"Let us thank our host, then visit the refreshments," he relayed the plan.

"Excellent idea," you replied quietly as he dragged you toward a finely dressed older woman.

"Lady Danbury," your father nodded at her in greeting.

"Lovely to see you again, Your Grace. It's been quite some time," she smiled at him knowingly.

"Indeed it has," he laughed, "may I present my daughter?" You smiled then, giving her a polite nod as well.

"My, how you've grown, my lady. The last time I saw you, you were far shorter than me," she chuckled, and you laughed politely with her. Unfortunately, you had no memory of that meeting. It must have been a long time ago, and she must have visited your home at Chatsworth House.

It was only a few more moments of small talk before your father excused the two of you, under the guise of not impeding her from talking to other guests.

He fixed you both a glass of lemonade at the refreshments table before he was pulled away. As much as he hated socializing, people loved him. He sent you an apologetic glance as he left. You only shook your head at him, smiling.

You took a brief glance around the room, noticing a few debutantes conversing near you. You sent them a smile, but they sneered in reply and closed ranks. Stunned at their response, you didn't quite know what to do.

"They can be rather mean," you turned to find a young red-headed woman beside you. "Not to mention jealous," she said helpfully.

"Jealous?" You were confused. They hadn't even met you. "Of me?"

"Oh, yes," she laughed a bit. "Haven't you read Lady Whistledown?"

You were embarrassed to have no idea of what she spoke, "I haven't met her. Is she in attendance?" That got an even greater laugh from your companion.

"Lady Whistledown is a gossip columnist and a rather popular one at that," she informed you, and you felt foolish for your last comment. "She wrote about you in her latest issue."

"Really?" You were stunned, as you'd only recently arrived in London.

"She predicted you'd steal the attentions of every available gentleman away from your fellow debutants," she nodded.

"No wonder they hate me," you sighed, sorry to have made a bad impression on the debutants before making their acquaintance. "Oh, I'm sorry, I still haven't introduced myself!" You were eager to make at least one good first impression.

"I'm Penelope Featherington," she said with a smile.

"I must admit, Miss Featherington," you shook your head, "I think Lady Whistledown's prediction will prove incorrect." She tilted her head and gestured for you to go on, "I've not been approached by a single gentleman."

Penelope took a quick look around the room, accidentally meeting a few pairs of eyes. Plenty of people had already been looking in your direction. She smiled a bit at your obliviousness, "I think perhaps they're just intimidated."

"Oh no," your eyes widened, "have I done something wrong?"

"Not at all," she assured you, "I think it's just... no one wants to take the first shot at a great stag and miss."

"I'm not sure I like being prey in this metaphor," you deadpanned, causing her to laugh once again.

It seemed one young gentleman mustered the courage to be the first to approach, and he really was young. "Good evening, ladies," he greeted you both, then offered you his hand, "would you care to dance?"

You placed your hand lightly in his but sent Penelope a look as he led you off. She giggled as you went. From there, you were off to the races. Dance after dance, gentleman after gentleman, you were exhausted.

"Please excuse me, sir, I'm feeling rather parched," you did not even recall this one's name.

"Oh no, please, my lady, I shall fetch a beverage for you," he nodded, "stay right there! Don't move!" He kept eye contact with you as he walked backward a few paces. You couldn't help but walk backward away from him, and you continued to do so even after he'd scurried off.

In fact, you retreated so far back that you retreated right into someone else's back. You both turned.

“You rather love bumping into me,” the gentleman you’d seen earlier said.

“Excuse me?” You certainly hadn’t seen him before this morning, so you had no idea what he meant by that smart comment. Your offense at his statement outweighed the sway of his good looks, unlike earlier.

“This makes twice,” he insisted, “once chasing after your ravens and once just now.”

It took you a second to catch up, “It was you I knocked over in the park earlier?!” Embarrassment rolled over you like a wave. “Oh God,” this was awful, “I am so incredibly sorry. Truly, I am mortified. And I would have apologized earlier, I-“

He only laughed a bit, “It’s quite alright. I got the sense you were in a rush.” His teasing tone brought a smile to your face.

“They’re usually so well-behaved,” you assured him, “I’m afraid my sister was behind the debacle.”

“Oh, yes, she was sitting with Hyacinth, was she not?”

“You know Miss Hyacinth?”

The gentleman grinned and bowed, “Benedict Bridgerton, her brother.”

“Very nice to meet you,” you smiled, “officially.”

“I’m not sure I caught your name,” right as he asked, you heard it being called.

“My lady?” You whipped around, and spotted the gentleman you’d abandoned searching for you. Wincing, you scuttled toward the closest pillar and ducked behind it. Benedict stayed put, but watched you run off with great amusement. After a moment, he chose to follow you.

“Are you hiding?” He teasingly asked.

You peered around the pillar, hoping the man had walked away. When you saw he hadn’t, you ducked away again, “yes!”

Benedict blinked at you, smiling, “Why?”

“My feet hurt,” you confessed, “I have danced every dance. I haven’t sat down in hours. Frankly, I’m surprised so many are interested after my jaunt through the park.”

“Perhaps they were impressed by your display of athleticism,” a crooked grin crossed his face. You leveled him with a look.

“There you are, my lady,” you jolted at the foreign voice, and Benedict had to clap a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter. “I could not find you, so I’m afraid I drank your lemonade as well,” you could see Benedict’s shoulders shake with laughter, “Are you ready for our next dance?”

A look of pure horror must have crossed your face, because Benedict finally intervened, “I’m afraid she’s promised the next dance to me.” He pulled a pencil from a pocket in his jacket and outstretched one hand to you. You held out the arm your dance card was attached to, “In fact, I’ve very generously been granted all her remaining dances.” He winked at you as he filled in the four remaining spots. You fought off a grin.

“I see,” the man you interrupted you said sourly. He turned on his heel and marched away. Neither you nor Benedict could stop your laughter at his reaction.

“It is not my intention to further burden your feet,” he assured you after a moment, “I only hoped to dissuade him.”

“You did a fine job,” you grinned at him, “you have my gratitude.”

“I think I rather scandalized him,” Benedict chuckled, and you shook your head.

“It seems rather easy to scandalize this lot,” you said.

“Well, you’re right about that,” he nodded.

You sighed, “I think they’re all so concerned with presenting themselves as proper and important they forget to consider anyone else. Not one man I danced with asked me about myself.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Benedict shook his head, “I hope the rest of your evening is more relaxing.”

“Thank you,” you nodded at him, “at the very least, I know my dogs will listen to me when I return to them.”

Benedict laughed at that and slightly bowed towards you again, “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, my lady. I hope to bump into you again soon.”

Your eyes widened, “Maybe not bump.”

“Goodnight,” he smiled at you and nodded before leaving you free to go find somewhere to sit.

Soon enough, you father found you relaxing on a chaise lounge in a nearby study. He only shook his head, and offered you his arm to depart.

——————————————

The next morning brought with it house calls. You’d been hoping to spend a quiet morning working on a new piece for the harp, as you’d forgone practice the day before. But, much to your chagrin, you were forced to dress and be presentable within only ten minutes of your waking.

It didn’t take long for the sitting room to be bombarded with interested parties, though none were interested enough to truly speak with you. Each brought with him a new bouquet of flowers, and you soon grew worried you’d start sneezing uncontrollably. Eventually, you became so overwhelmed that you bribed poor Abigail to keep them occupied while you disappeared.

The only question she had for you was if you cared what she did to them. You’d given her free rein. With one look at her wicked grin, you fled the room.

Quickly turning the corner to another hallway, you quite nearly crashed into someone.

“That was almost three,” Benedict joked with you.

“Almost,” you highlighted, “but only a close call.”

“True,” he nodded.

"What brings you here?"

Benedict smiled, "I had hoped to call on you. Have I caught you at a bad time?"

"Not at all," you shook your head jovially.

"Excellent! I brought a gift," he produced a brown paper bag. You were slightly confused but glad for something other than flowers.

"Thank you," you reached for it, but he pulled it back.

"Not for you," he shook his head. You blinked back at him, wide-eyed. "Unless you have a proclivity for raw steak." Benedict laughed at the shock on your face, "I thought Huginn and Muninn might enjoy a treat."

A surprised smile eased onto your face. Your eyes sparkled as you looked at him, "I'm sure they'll appreciate it."

"Do you think they might also appreciate a walk in the park?" He asked, "A chance at redemption?"

"I think they'd like that," you grinned widely as Benedict smiled and offered you his arm.

---------------------------------------------------------

He didn't ask a single question! And he was wearing these- FUGLY jeans

Lol I've been toying with this idea since S3 part 1 came out, hope you liked it! I let her live in 2005 Mr. Darcy's luxurious mansion so you're welcome

(sorry for obscure norse mythology references)

[surielstea]

Sweet Temptations

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel enters a bet with his brothers on who can go the longest without sex with their mate, Reader makes it hard for him to win.

Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | 18+ | p in v | creampie | rough sex | shadow play | the slightest bit of bondage | pet names (love, baby, angel) | 2k words of smut cause I love all you freaks

6.2k words

I tread softly down the long hallway, following the golden tether connecting me and my mate. Shadows weave through my fingers and twirl up my calves, following at my side until I stop at a familiar door.

I creak open the private library's door and peer my head in only to find Azriel in a large leather chair that I would be drowning in if it was me who sat in it. He was lounging carelessly, a book between his hands as he flipped through the pages.

If he knew I was at the doorway he didn’t show it, just continued reading without a stir, he didn't look up to me either. So I took the opportunity to gawk at the beauty that is my mate, to admire his elegant features. It was no secret Azriel was the prettiest of the three-winged Illyrians. It didn't matter what your type was, my mate seemed to be able to make anyone flush bright red with a few words.

My gaze wandered over his complexion that I’ve admired countless times, those sharp cheekbones that seemed to be able to cut steel, his tousled black waves that drifted over his forehead, those hazel eyes rapidly scanning over the page of his book, and his golden skin that was fully on display due to him being shirtless, I was the culprit for his missing clothing, the soft black shirt draped over my frame, going down to my exposed thighs.

"I can feel you staring." He finally speaks and I startle but he still doesn't look up to me. I decided just looking wasn't nearly enough, because anybody could look at him, and I didn't want to be anybody, I wanted my hands on him the way only a lover could have. I step into the private library and close the door behind me. My steps are silent as I approach his side but again, he's still not sparing me a glance.

Something like envy makes me frown, being jealous over a book was foolish but Azriel's eyes were always on me. He is constantly observing me, silently watching no matter the circumstance. It was such a normal occurrence in our relationship that I had grown used to his eternal notice, not realizing how much I loved it until now, until this foreign attention-craving attitude took over my emotions that screamed look at me.

"Azriel," I sit on the armrest of the large chair, I feel pathetic being so desperate like this.

"Hm?" That's all he replies with, but he still won't look at me, why won't he notice me? It wasn't that I needed the attention. He could do his own thing I didn't mind, but I also didn't want to be ignored.

"I'm going to make some breakfast, do you have a preference?" I place a hand on his arm, tracing my nail over his tattoo, something I do so often that I don’t have to look at the tattoo to know where the inky lines are.

"Whatever you make will be good." He said, his words slightly clipped. I crease my brows but nod and place a kiss on his temple before sliding off of the chair. Perhaps he was just preoccupied with his thoughts.

I walk back to the door, giving him one last confused glance before leaving the library and aiming my way towards the kitchen.

I decided on making a breakfast quiche, something simple so I could mull over my thoughts while I baked. I learned the recipe from Rhys's mother so it comforted both me and Azriel I suppose, growing up in that house every winter when they weren’t preoccupied at windhaven held some of my favorite memories, as well as some of the worst. I mated with Azriel in that house, on my twentieth birthday it had clicked and we’ve been together ever since— but this was the first time Azriel has ever ignored me.

As I cooked I wondered what was going on with him, to be distracted over what he was reading I could understand, I've done that to him nearly a hundred times but the way he spoke almost sounded restrained? Like he needed to hold back from saying anything else or even doing anything else but sit there still reading.

I played the quiche once it was done on two ornate plates. I've always liked to cook, but the three winged males seemed to be against it when we were younger, saying that I didn't have to since we were in Illyria, that just because I was a girl didn’t mean I had to pick up that lifestyle. I had to make it clear to them that I wasn't their maid and I wasn't even Illyrian, it's not like I went around cleaning up after the messy boys anyway, in fact, Rhys’s mother gave them more chores than me, which has always irked Cassian.

"Az, food is ready!" I shouted down the hall and to my surprise he came down the stairs in mere seconds, without the book in his hands. "For you." I slid one of the plates over to him and he blinked down at it, still not looking at me as he carried them over to the table.

"My favorite," He hummed as I walked over to him and placed utensils beside his dish. "Thank you." He picks up the fool and cuts into his quiche. I frown. He usually kisses me after I make a meal for him, or at the least gives me a hug. I muffle a sigh and opt to lean down and kiss his cheek instead, then take a seat beside him in front of my own meal.

We ate in silence like always, but today it was slightly uncomfortable, not fully awkward, but just... off. The food was good and Azriel had it disappearing in minutes, at least he still likes my cooking. When I finish he collects both of our dishes and takes them to the sink where he'll wash them later tonight.

"It was delicious as always my love, thank you." He calls over his shoulder as he wipes his hands, but he doesn't look at me. I would do anything right now to get him to look at me.

I look at the wall of windows to my side and notice the sun rising, golden and pink hues painting the sky. "Don't you have training with Cassian today?" I ask, flitting my eyes back to him.

"Mhm, I'm going to get ready now." He says at the base of the stairs. My stomach twists anxiously, have I done something wrong? Why is he being so distant?

“Can I come?” I ask once he’s halfway up the steps.

“If you’d like to, get dressed,” He replies dryly and a frown tugs at my lips. He only talked to me in vague words, not weighing in on his own opinion on anything like I was used to, normal flowing conversation. And maybe I was in my head, but I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to watch my mate train under the golden sun.

I rush up the stairs and enter my shared bedroom, going straight to the armoire and finding a simple outfit. I pull a pair of pants on, I wasn’t training and only spectating but it’d feel wrong to show up to a training ring in a gown. I swapped out Azriel’s shirt that still clung to my body for a top that matched my flowing bottoms, the style reminding me of what Amren typically wore.

“Az can you tie me?” I approached his side of the bedroom where he was adjusting the siphon on his gauntlet. I turned around and held my hair up before he could reply, but instead of his hands that grabbed ahold of the strings it was silky shadows, cold against my bare back as they tied the strings into dainty bows.

He walked out of the room before they were finished and I chased after him, feeling pathetic while trying any ploy to get his attention but if he would just tell me what was going on I’d be willing to help him, but I couldn’t do that if he ignored me.

I intertwined my hand with his and he squeezed it on instinct, then quickly loosened his hold like he wasn’t allowed to show me any form of affection.

He wasted no time before shadow-walking us to the top of the house of wind where Cassian always trained with my mate. He doesn't say anything, just lets us slip into that darkness of realms. I cling to his arm tighter, just in case I fall into another pitch-black realm full of mysterious creatures. The darkness only lasted a mere second until we were on the roof of the mansion Az and I used to live in.

I steady myself with Azriel's arm but he doesn't return the movement, as if he didn't want me to be anywhere near him. I disband our arms as soon as I can stand on my own. I notice Cassian across the rooftop, Nesta beside him, seething so noticeably I thought steam might come from her ears. I walk over to the sitting area where the water station resides, Nesta following suit as our mates warm up with their usual movements.

I knew better than to ask Nesta why she seemed so irritated but when she sat right beside me I felt safe enough to say she wasn't mad at anything to do with me.

Nesta and I had become close friends while I resided at the house of wind, Azriel and I only moved out about a year after her and Cassian’s mating bond clicked. But during that time Nesta would often confide in me. When she felt she couldn't talk to Cassian but needed someone, anyone who would understand. I happened to be that person. It started with romance book recommendations the house hadn't already given to her, then moved to deeper things. Things like Tomas or problems she was having with Cassian, or even her struggles with the power from the Cauldron. However, there were still things she refused to talk about, her sisters for example.

"I'm going to kill him." She gritted out as the two males began to spar.

"Tell me about it." I huffed, staring at the warriors fighting so roughly, not their usual fluid movements. Like they needed to get an anger out that's been pent up. Sweat glistened off their tan skin, discarding their shirts minutes ago— not going past me or Nesta's notice. The golden sun beamed down on them like a spotlight as they battled, swords clashing and slamming down onto the others, they were uncontrolled and savage, so far from the routine maneuvers and clever counters.

"What'd he do this time?" I ask, propping my elbows on my knees and leaning my chin into my hands, boredom enveloping me with open arms.

"He's not paying any attention to me." She huffs and I freeze. "I went as far as to try and give him head this morning and he outright ignored me," Nesta grumbled, picking at her nails. My confusion doubled over.

"Azriel's doing the same," I mumbled, sitting up to look at her confused. "He won’t look at me and will barely even talk to me," I explain and she glares at the two men on the mat, her stare so deathly I thought lightning might strike down on our mates.

"There's no way they've turned celibate right?" Nesta creased her brows and I snort at the idea alone.

"Them two? No way." I shake my head, leaning back into my chair.

"Maybe we should contact Feyre, perhaps Rhys has something to do with this." I offer.

"The three of them always seem to be up to something." She glowered.

"I'll be right back unless you want to come to the River house with me?" I ask. She shakes her head no and I nod, understanding.

I winnow straight into the foyer of the River House. Feyre who was sitting in the living room looked more than pissed. She glanced at me but wasn’t shocked when I suddenly appeared in her home. "Is Rhys ignoring you?" I sigh and she nods with a frown. "Where is he?" I glance around the sitting room as if the High Lord might be hiding.

"Out with Nyx," She kicks the toddler's toy by her foot weakly.

"What the hel is going on?" I sit beside her on the couch.

"They're doing a bet." She rolls her eyes. "Who can ‘hold out’ the longest." She makes a quotation gesture around her words and I scoff.

"You're kidding." My jaw nearly drops.

"Nope. They thought it'd be the only thing they could beat Azriel at, so you probably have it the worst." She huffs. "Stupid Illyrian pride." The high lady uttered. I'm going to strangle my mate.

"So they’re doing a sex ban on each other." I scratch the back of my head in astonishment.

"Sounds typical." She hums.

"I'm going to fix this. We’re going to make them lose." I stand from my seat. "Put on your sluttiest outfit and get Nyx a babysitter," I order her, an idea blooming in my head. "They might be prideful but not even Rhys can resist a wanting female," I explain and a feline smile curves over her lips.

I had told Nesta the same as Feyre, dress in something her mate can’t resist her in, drive him mad. We both left training before it was over. The males didn't bother noticing so we didn't say goodbye.

I took my time in choosing an outfit. The idea of Azriel's pride being more important than so much as looking at me made me beyond furious. If he wanted to ignore me over a stupid bet then I'd give him a taste of his own medicine. I selected a lingerie set that was a cobalt blue, his favorite color to see me in, due to it matching the color of his siphons, it was some possessive nature to have me dressed in a color that so clearly connected me to him.

I put the set on, delicate lace and soft mesh that he's yet to see, the kind I know he loves to rip off. I put on a white nightgown over the garments, sheer enough to still see the sapphire underwear but also opaque enough to prompt curiosity. I leave my hair down, I don't mess with it at all. He likes it down, and likes to run his hands through it. Another thing I won't let him do until he admits to losing this stupid wager between him and his brothers. I put a thin garter on my thigh, the only blue piece fully visible.

I run my fingers along a shelf of perfumes, selecting the one I usually wore when we went on dates, reminding him of those nights he'd run the tip of his nose along the column of my throat and smell that insatiable scent. I sprayed it on me, but also misted his reading chair with it, he couldn't escape the thought of me if he tried. A devious smile curved my lips as I placed the perfume back into its rightful place.

The front door of the house opens and I freeze. I know it's him. I grin and exit our bedroom, padding down the stairs until I'm just across the hall from him. His hair was pushed back and he was still glistening in sweat. Gods, he looked so perfect it was hard to stay mad. But when he didn't bother glancing at me all that rage returned.

A shadow swirled up my thigh and I allowed it to travel around the garter. Another zipped toward me, curving around my waist as if to recognize what I was wearing. I smiled down at the dark tendrils and they zipped away, quickly returning to their master and brushing up his wings, those perfect and large wings I needed my hands on. Shadows curved around his ear, telling him all about what I was wearing and immediately his gaze snapped to mine.

Those hazel eyes finally came into contact with my own. And gods how nice it was to be seen again. I remained strong. I gave him a gentle smile and walked closer.

"What are you doing?" His eyes followed me, that familiar attentiveness I missed so much returning.

"What do you mean?" I tilt my head innocently.

"Why are you dressed like that." His hands fist at his sides and I allow his eyes to drift everywhere.

"The nightgown was a gift from the boutique in The Rainbow, on the house after I bought all those presents for solstice," I explain, the lie easy on my tongue, I had bought this for our anniversary which was only a few weeks from now, but seeing that utterly desperate look on his face made showing him earlier worth it. "Do you not like it?" I do a small twirl and his knuckles turn white as the dress flows up and reveals a portion of my underwear.

"It's see-through." He gritted out and I frowned, looking down at myself.

"Is it? I hadn't realized. It's hard to tell in the darkness of our bedroom I suppose." I shrug, looking back up to him.

"It's pretty, just wear a slip under it if we leave the house." He hums casually, then brushes past me and goes into the library. Anger simmers inside of me as I hear the door close. How had that not worked? How much more direct could I get?

I sigh and quickly follow after him. Opening the door and shutting it behind me. He sat in the leather chair, as expected, book in his hands.

I wandered the room absent-minded, peering at the shelves with curious eyes, plotting my next move.

I smile at the idea I get and begin reaching for a book far out of my reach.

“Az? Can you help me?” I mumble, but my reaching causes my dress to lift so when he looks over at me he’s met with the most tempting sight he had ever seen. His movements were rigid as he stood up, coming closer but I didn’t move out of his way, just continuing to jump for the book. “The green one,” I gestured to the dusty spine and he nods, easily grabbing it for me but once I stop reaching for it I settle flat onto my feet, the curve of my ass coming back to press against his hips. He let out a quiet, low grunt that I wouldn’t have been able to hear if he wasn’t right behind me.

I turn around to face him with a cheeky smile. He holds the book I had no interest in reading out to me, his white knuckling grip proof of his restraint.

“Thanks, Az,” I take the book and he nods with a grunt before going back to his chair, sinking into it with a slightly defeated demeanor, his pitiful expression making me smile.

I bound over to his chair, settling myself on the armrest, my legs draped over his as he continued to ignore me. I place a hand on his bare shoulder and begin massaging the tight area.

"You're sore Az," I mumble. "Maybe we should take a bath?" I tilt my head. His face remains stoic, but he is gripping his book like the edge of a cliff.

I move my hands lower, to his shoulder blade where I could knead the knot of muscle there. "What do you think? I'll even wash your wings." I brush my fingers over where his wings began at his muscular back. He jolted, his book slamming shut and his head whipping to me with a wide lust-filled gaze. "Is that a yes?" I chuckle. He only narrows his eyes, like a silent interrogation. "Az, I'm going to need some words." I place a hand on his cheek.

"Are you doing this on purpose?" He says through his teeth.

"Doing what?" My voice was innocent, if he didn't know any better he'd be buying it.

"I just know those training sessions are so long and hard, I thought it'd be nice to reward my mate." My selected words weren't helping his case.

“What do you know?” He says the words like a threat and I giggle nervously.

“Are you alright Az? You’ve been acting weird all morning,” I observe and a muscle in his jaw feathers as he tightens it shut, I run my fingers down that very jaw, feeling it flex under my touch as he attempts to read me. “Are you worried about something? You know I’m always willing to help you relieve your stress,” I hum, slowly slipping into his lap, straddling over his hips and his eyes just follow the action, admiring the way I fit so perfectly on top of him.

“No, love I’m fine,” He defends and I dip down, trailing kisses down his neck, finding his pulse point and swiping my tongue over the area.

“You sure, there’s nothing I can do for you?” I tease my hips over his erect length, painfully straining against his pants. I return to the area of his neck, sucking hard as he attempts a reply.

“No, I, fuck— love, I’m fine,” He curses and a smile curves my lips in triumph.

“Alright,” I pull from his neck. “If there’s anything you want me to do I’ll do it, okay?” I stress my words with a slight lift to my brows and he nods hesitantly. “I think I’m going to take a nap, why don’t you join me? It could help call your nerves?” I offer and he nods, thinking it a good idea to sleep through the rest of this stupid bet until one of his brothers gives in but by gods was he wrong.

I get off his lap and grab his hands after he sets his book down, pulling him up and then guiding him to our bedroom with an effortless sway of my hips they had his hands tightening on mine.

Once we were in the comfort of our bedroom he shut the door behind us and I let go of his hands in favor of grabbing the straps of my nightgown and dipping them from my shoulders, allowing the sheer fabric to pool at the floor, revealing my lingerie set to him entirely.

“What are you doing?” He grits through his teeth, I look back at him and I nearly laugh. He was backed up against the door like prey trapped in a lion's den. I smirk at him and crawl into our bed.

“That nightgown is too itchy to sleep in, this is much better,” I sigh and he swallows thickly, slowly approaching our bed like it might explode at any sudden movement.

He eventually strips down to his boxers and slides into the sheets beside me, I waste little time before throwing myself over him like a second mattress.

My legs intertwine with his, my arms wrapping around the back of his neck, my body pressed to his. He flexed at the feeling of my breasts brushing against his bare chest.

“Are you always this touchy?” He said and I asked, pulling him impossibly closer.

“You don’t like it?” I feign a pout and he pales, brows creasing.

“No, I’m sorry my love I just, I hadn’t noticed it until today,” He stumbles over his words, making my frown turn into a sickeningly sweet smirk.

“You’re so cute Az,” I mumbled, leaning up and pecking his lips tenderly. “I love you,” I whisper so softly that if he wasn’t so close he wouldn’t have been able to hear it. But he did, and it wasn’t the lingerie, or the perfume, or even kissing his neck that made him snap, no, it was those three words that he thought he’d never hear romantically, and I just gave them to him so casually he thought the world stopped spinning for a moment.

“Oh, fuck it,” He grumbled before crashing his lips onto mine, the tension leaving my body as he rolls over me and settles between my legs. His kiss was starving, like he couldn’t get enough, he had been craving me all day and ignoring that feeling but now it was all crashing down onto him at once and it was impossible to get enough. His kiss was all-consuming as his thumb came to my chin and opened my mouth manually, his tongue slipping inside without forethought. My tongue met his just as quickly, they didn’t battle but they danced around each other, a steady balance of give and take between us.

“You have no idea how much I need to fuck you,” He pants onto my lips and I smile.

“What are you waiting for?” I tease and he shakes his head.

“No, it’s not making love, I need to fuck you,” He warns and a primal part of me loves the tone of his voice, the neediness of his words.

“C’mon Az don’t be shy, fuck me already,” I plead and he moves from my lips down to my neck, his mouth mapping every expanse of skin he can find.

“You’re evil,” He sighs against my chest as I arch my breasts into his face.

“You ignored me all morning, you’re the evil one,” I claim and he smirks.

“I’m sorry baby, let me make it up to you,” He hums, then moves lower, so much lower until his breath was fanning against my inner thigh and he was leaving hickeys trailing up to my heat. His eyes glow golden as he looks up at me, pure lust as his expression.

"Please." I nod my head and he's like a fucking beast ready to have a full-course meal.

He wastes no time, not one second was I not being pleasured. Scarred fingers dip into the waistband of my panties, pulling at them with a force that makes them tear. His breath fans over my slick and I arch up, grabbing onto the sheets to keep myself steady.

He lifts a leg over his shoulder and a long swipe of his perfect tongue passes through my folds. It all happened so quickly, how soaked I was for him. I could feel him smiling against my cunt, as if he was craving the taste of me all day and finally got it on his tongue, his tongue that was swirling over my clit in tight circling motions.

I mewled, my back arching as fingers swiped through my sex, lubing himself with my ecstasy before entering two long fingers where I needed him most.

"Oh fuck," I breathed out, my head falling back against the shelf, it was all so fast, so needy.

"You’re so perfect like this, spread out like a good girl who can’t wait to be eaten," His baritone voice against the apex of my thighs reverberated up my spine making me shiver.

"Mhm," I nod helplessly, relishing in the feeling of his scars rubbing against my sensitive walls, those scars that added so much to the feel of his fingers inside of me, toying with that spongy bundle of nerves that was so relentless for more.

I moaned his name repeatedly, grinding down on his hand and his face as he sucked and licked at my clit. The stimulation was too much and I was hurdling toward a release.

"Az, I'm gonna—" My breath gets caught in my throat as he lays his tongue flat against my folds, his nose digging into my clit.

"I know baby, go ahead." Cold air fanned against my slick and my hands twined into his hair, forcing his face into my cunt as I ground my hips up onto his tongue, matching the thrusts of his fingers as that knot in the pit of my stomach tightened. He groaned at the feeling of me shoving his face into my heat, letting out a grunt as he ruts his hips down onto the bed, needing to be inside of me.

"Cum on my tongue." His voice was a demand, the kind of voice that made people fear him, the kind of voice that had me unraveling on his fingers, just like he ordered.

A string of moans escaped me, my head lolling back as euphoric waves crashed into me. He supported my hips since my legs were rendered useless from shaking too damned much. He gave gentle kitten licks to my now overstimulated cunt, allowing me to gently come down. He slowly lifted from between my thighs, slick coating his lips and he licked them clean, as if savoring the taste of me.

He brought his mouth to mine, allowing me to taste myself as I threw my arms around his neck carelessly, pulling his weight down onto me, needing to be entirely consumed by him as I sampled myself off his tongue.

“Fuck me Az,” I murmur.

“I won’t be able to control myself,” He shakes his head but I didn’t care, I needed more, needed his heavy cock sheathed inside of me.

“I don’t want control, I want you feral,” I beg and something primal sparks in his gaze, a slow smirk forming over his lips.

“On your stomach then,” He orders and my chest fills with both nerves and excitement as I do as he says, flipping over and hiking up onto my knees, my pussy throbbing in anticipation as I straddle my legs, my body forming a perfect crescent moon as I arched my ass up, arms supporting the rest of my body so I don’t fall into the pillows.

His hands come to my hips, dragging from my waist to my thighs, over the curve of my ass, then repeating. He was savoring the feel of me, the view I was so generously offering him.

The rustling behind me hinted that he had freed himself from his boxers and I was proven correct when his leaking tip pressed into my folds. I whimpered at the feel of his head running through the expanse of my pussy, pre-cum mixing with my arousal, the natural lubricant preparing him for his entrance.

He leans over me, his chest slick with sweat as his lips come beside my ear, pressing kisses to my shoulder. “You going to be good?” He hums and I nod with a whine. Shadows twine around my wrists, bounding them down onto the bed forcefully. “Three taps if it’s too much alright?” He says and I nod, closing my eyes in a slow blink, mentally preparing myself as he aligns his cock to my slit.

Slowly, he pushes himself in and I take every inch with a never-ending stream of euphoria. His movements started slow but he was right, he couldn’t control himself and his thrusts quickly turned impossible to keep up with.

A moan tore from my throat as he finally managed to stuff himself completely inside of me, his balls slapping against my sopping folds, the arousal dripping down my purple-marked thighs. “Az,” I mewl, throwing my head back as he continues his relentless pace, his thrusts rough and hungry and everything I had ever craved.

“M’yours, I’m all yours,” I sighed, eyes fluttering shut at the intense feeling of him nestled so deep inside of me. “That’s right, my perfect slut to ruin,” He grunts and my back bows into his chest at the words, making him hit me deeper. He curses and goes so much faster at the new angle, every other drive into me left a soft whimper slipping from his throat, his noises so quiet yet so close to my ear and allowing me to hear just how much I was affecting him.

I clamped down on his thick length, slowly grinding my hips down onto his, gradually growing quicker and meeting each of his thrusts.

If I thought he was savage on the training mats then he must’ve been untamable when pummeling every inch of him into my puffy pussy that pulsed at each movement.

“Gods, Azriel,” I scream his name, his pace relentless as my mind loses thought, becoming incoherent to anything but the way he shoved himself into me, past that bundle of nerves and kissing up against my cervix. A ring of my arousal formed on the base of his cock. “That’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl,” He sighs, his breath fanning over the shell of my ear and making me squeeze around him, needy for more.

He loves the visual of me splayed out for him, swallowing his cock, hips clapping against mine each time he rams into me with an unmatched force, each of them landing perfectly on the tip of him grinding against the most sensitive part of me as I convulsed, my legs spreading wider as I sink lower, making his thrusts faster, harder. Tears roll down my cheeks as I continue to take it, taking all of him without hesitation. “Your perfect fucking pussy is so— fuck s’gripping me so tight,” He grinds out and I know from the underlying whine of his voice that he’s close, and thank gods for it cause I doubted I’d last another moment with my sanity.

“Az, please, please,” I cry, unable to say anything else as he continues to hit home every, single, time. “So full, Az,” I murmur, my head heavy with lust as he fucks me senseless. “Yeah? All you can think about is my cock, isn’t that right?” He purrs beside my ear and I nod fervently, agreeing to whatever he wants me to do, I just needed more.

Shadows listen to my silent request and brush down my stomach teasingly, feeling the way Azriel pumped into me so deep you could see him in my abdomen, the silky darkness curling downward and coming to my clit, making me gasp in ecstasy.

His fingers join his shadows, scooping through my folds and gathering my arousal before smearing it along my clit and then rubbing it harshly in tight little circles that left me defenseless. My entire body obeyed his touch as his ministrations continued. “Fuck, need to come Az, please,” I whine, feeling that coil tighten until it was bordering on snapping. “Come for me, wanna see you milk my cock,” He nips at my shoulder and thrusts forcefully inside of me, his head ramming into my cervix so very close to my womb, his fingers dig into my clit rougher, his calloused fingers providing so much more friction. Saliva pools in my mouth as my orgasm crests and I finally feel that immense relief I’ve been craving all morning. “I’m coming, m’comin—” I was cut off by a lewd moan, rapture surging up and down my body as I gush around his cock, white-hot pleasure consuming me.

I lay beneath him as I slowly come down from my climax but his movements don’t cease as I jolted in over stimulation, his shadows eased off my clit allowing relief but my pussy wasn’t given the same treatment, he continued to bury himself inside of me, harder, faster, deeper.

I whine, not daring to reject him like his perfect doll, clenching at the sheets as he ruts into my aching cunt. “Fill me up, Az, want your cum so bad,” I whimper and he smiles against my neck. “Yeah? Want me to fill this pussy up ‘til it’s leaking out? Stuff you full?” He asks and I mewl, lewd sounds rolling off my tongue without permission.

“Mhm,” I nod, writhing against the sheets at the intense feeling. I clench hard around him and he twitched, letting out a low grunt and without another warning, his warm seed released and spurted from his cock, into my cunt. He moaned, his sounds equally arousing as his movements inside of me. “You’re a fuckin’ angel, baby,” He pants, hands roaming along my waist as he slowly pulls himself from my slit, a whimper leaving my throat at the emptiness he left me with. He stares down at the apex of my thighs, where his cum seeped out of me, mixing with mine.

I flip onto my back and stare up at him panting with a drunken smile, my pussy throbbing as I come down from that stimulation.

I tremble as his fingers brush up my inner thighs, gathering any liquid that escaped me and then pushing them back into my cunt with ease. I gasped, my back arching, it was too much, it was all too much. And I loved every moment of it.

He lazily fingered my pussy, his languid movements making me babble in protest. “I know baby but we can’t let any of this go to waste, can we?” He hums and I shake my head no with a pout. “That’s right, m’ gonna fuck you all day, make you feel so good,” He said and my body tremors at the promise of his voice, and I knew immediately walking would be impossible tomorrow.

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[starry-bi-sky]

Danielle and Danyal's meeting... very, very quickly goes very sour from, basically, the moment Danny steps into his room and finds Ellie sitting on his bed (strike one) and reading the comic books Tucker introduced him to (strike two). By the time she's looked up to address him, Danny has the door locked, and a hand hovering near the knife hidden under his shirt.

She gets her third strike when Danny, in a voice that could make the mountains tremble, demands to know how she got into his room, and she lies (with uncertainty of her decision growing in her chest) that Jazz let her in. Danny's hand shifts closer to his weapon, and he turns towards her fully, and says that Jazz would never let someone he didn’t know into his room, and who was she.

(Vlad Masters had underprepared Danielle for her meeting with Danny -- not out of any completely direct malicious intent, but he failed to mention just how... 'touchy' Daniel could be -- he failed to mention the scars littering up his arms, unhidden by the hoodie tee he meets Ellie in. He failed to mention that along with those scars, that Danny was visibly lean, capable of doing very real damage without the use of his powers.)

(He tells Ellie that he’s adopted, and that he is observant and clever, but ungrateful and has a bad attitude.)

Her final strike occurs when Ellie, trying to keep her facade of cheeriness, tells him that she’s his third cousin once removed. Immediately, Danny has his dagger pulled out, and Ellie finds herself with the cold metal of a blade pressing against her throat.

Danyal 'A.G' Fenton hasn’t killed since he arrived in Amity Park. At first it was because mother told him to keep a low profile, and killing would do the opposite of that. But, he's been slowly learning from his sister and friends over the years the value of human life. So it's become a combination of keeping his head down, and also that life has value to it.

But. That doesn’t mean he can’t kill, nor is he opposed to doing it if the situation calls for it. It just means that he doesn't do it. And ‘Danielle’ is an unknown in his room, claiming to be family to him, and appearing uncannily similar to him and his family. Either someone hired her and she was trying to pass herself off as a relative to him because that someone realized Danny was the biggest threat, or, his false death has been compromised, his mother was unable to tell him, and the league was aware he was alive.

No matter how he looks at it, this Danielle was a threat to him, his sister, his friends, to Damian, and to the Drs. Fenton. Danyal Fenton doesn't kill, but he has no problems doing so.

(Ellie, pinned under Danny’s knee and the blade to her neck, is too terrified to think of phasing out of his hold. Not that it would help, he would just chase after her.)

“You have broken into my home, dared to lie to my face, and when I demanded to know the truth, you dared lie to me again." Danny's scowl could cower even Skulker, his glacier blue eyes burning. "Your continual breath has been a favor from me, that I have graciously allowed, from the moment you entered my room, dahkil."

"So I will ask one more time," he hisses, "who. are. you."

Danielle, only a few months old, unprepared for the ice storm that is "Daniel" Fenton, and his clone in only flesh and blood, and not memories, immediately breaks. And tells him that she was his clone, that Vlad sent her to come capture him, and to please not kill her.

Danny's face twists with anger, Ellie thinks he's going to kill her anyways. Instead, he withdraws his knife and gets off her, stringing out curses in Arabic as he sheathes his weapon back into its hiding place faster than Ellie can blink.

He switches to English as she is collecting her bearings (and contemplating fleeing), and Danny paces the room like a tiger in a cage. "--of course that wretched, arrogant, peacocking little ingrate would do something so infuriating. I should have driven my sword into the shrivel of his heart when I had the chance--"

Ellie, for a moment, thinks of leaving while he is distracted. And starts to slowly creep away. But Danny notices instantly, and whirls on her. His too-bright eyes bore into her head: "Where do you think you're going."

"...I'm leaving."

And Danny scoffs at her, "Why? So you can fly back to Masters and tell him that you failed to capture me, and that I know that he cloned me?" He says, and Ellie remains silent -- that's exactly what she was going to do. "He will destroy you within seconds."

Of course, Ellie rears back in offense, and she finds the footing to glare at him. "He would not! He's my dad, he loves me!"

Danny gets in her face, glowering back with an equal intensity. "He does not." He snaps, "Vlad Masters has not a soul in his body nor a heart in his chest. He would sooner cut off the hand that helps him stand, than to take it along with him."

"If you're really made of my blood, then I will teach you only this: we bow not our heads nor our hearts to anyone." Danny's too-blue eyes narrow, and his voice dips into a hiss, "Especially not to a conniving snake like Masters. Your heart: cut it off, or cut it out. He will sooner leave you to bleed."

Then, he unlocks the door and drags her out before she has much time to act. And as he drags her down the hall he shoots Sam and Tucker a text, and they meet up at Nasty Burger. Ellie is a spitfire, but Danny has her too intimidated to leave.

"This is Danielle," he tells them bluntly as he corners her into the booth, "she's my clone. Masters created her."

Ellie is with them for a week, and somehow throughout that time, Danny manages to actually get her to like him throughout that time. He's callous, blunt, and full of sharp edges that you can cut yourself on. But when he's not spitting venom, he's fretting.

When he drags her back to the house after being with Sam and Tucker, he pulls her to Jazz's room and opens the door to tell her the same thing. "This is Danielle." He says upon abruptly opening the door, interrupting Jazz's studying as he pulls Ellie inside. "She is my clone, Masters created her. She needs clothes."

Then he turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him. Ellie, in that moment, thinks that now's her chance to flee. But Jazz then squeals, and she is trapped in new arms, shaken around by Jazz Fenton, excited for a sister.

(Ellie finds herself complaining to Jazz that night, shoved into old pajamas. She's in utter disbelief that Jazz could care about a jerk like Danny.)

("He's rough around the edges, but Danny does care." Jazz tells her, combing through her hair with her fingers. "We've been working on it ever since he joined the family, but Danny warms up slowly. He's usually less stoney; I think your arrival spooked him.")

("Spooked him?" Ellie repeats, she doesn't believe it at all. "He has a funny way of showing it, he threatened to kill me!" And she turns around just in time to see Jazz's press her lips into a line.)

("He's... very protective. He'll deny if you ask him, but he worries a lot." Jazz's fingers find her hair again. "What I do know for certain though, is that he wouldn't have kept you here if he wasn't worried about you at least a little bit.")

(Ellie doubts it.)

But Ellie is indeed there for a week, and the day after her initially rocky introduction with Danny, he is a little bit kinder to her. Still kinda a bitch, but he's less harsh to her, if... almost uncomfortable around her. Flighty, kinda.

Whenever she gets mouthy at him though, he looks oddly smug about it and, infuriatingly enough, praises her attitude. He is very, very annoying. And still kinda terrifying. But hearing him shout insults via puns at someone during a ghost fight that happens that week lessens the intimidating factor,,, a little bit.

Things go about,,,, relatively,,,, similar to canon. In the sense that it ends with Ellie defecting from Vlad because she finds out that Danny was right and that Vlad didn't actually care about her. (And that Jazz had been right too; Danny, in his weird, mean way, had been worried about her as well)

Danny looks out of his depth as she talks about how he was right, and he cuts her off with a vaguely uncomfortable clearing of his throat. And gives her the most awkward, but genuine apology he can muster.

"I should've used more tact when telling you about Masters, and I... apologize for threatening you when we met. I was..." he makes a face like he's sucked on a particularly sour lemon, "worried. First about my family, and then later about you."

(Ellie will be damned: Jazz was right)

Before Ellie leaves, Danny puts a hand on her shoulder and tells her: "I wasn't kidding about what I said to you when we first met: you are of my blood, and as such, you do not bow your head nor your heart to anyone."

Ellie looks at him, thinks about the last week, and smiles like she's caught him in a trap. "What about Sam and Tucker then? And Jazz?"

Danny smiles, it's awkward and tilted, like his face isn't used to the gesture. "We bow not our hearts, but that doesn't mean we can't share."

[foxy-eva]

Stress Relief

Summary: When Reader complains about back pain, Spencer offers a massage. Things escalate. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut 

Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) a little bit of awkwardness, massages, implied hand kink, heavy kissing, fingering, handjob, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

It wasn't the first time your team had to double up in a hotel while working on a case but you had never ended up being paired with your favorite coworker before. When you stepped into the room after a long day of trying to save lives, you suddenly realized something. 

Spencer was right behind you when he saw it too, mumbling an almost inaudible, "Oh."

Oh. 

There was only one bed. 

The receptionist had already let you know that they were completely overbooked, so switching to a different room was no option. 

Spencer was quick to offer solutions as he started rambling, "I know Morgan said he wouldn't share a room with me but maybe he'll change his mind if I explain this to him?" 

"Don't you think it's more likely he'll tease us? Besides, that would leave me with Hotch and I'd rather share a bed with you than with my boss."

Spencer shrugged and mumbled, "I always liked to double up with Emily. I wonder why she insisted on sharing a room with JJ." 

You looked at him with raised eyebrows and a smirk on your face. "Yeah, who knows!" 

You did know but Spencer was as oblivious as ever. If he was really that bad at seeing what was right in front of him, there was at least a chance that he hadn't yet caught onto your feelings for him either. You really hoped that tonight any improper thoughts you had would be drowned out by the exhaustion slowly taking over your body.

"I can sleep on the floor," Spencer voiced his final offer. 

You shook your head in protest. "The bed is big enough for the both of us."

With that it was settled, you were going to share a bed with the man who had been occupying your mind an almost embarrassing amount. Spencer, however, had never once shown any signs that he reciprocated your growing feelings for him. So instead of addressing them, you decided to simply suffer in silence until they'd pass.

When he stepped into the bathroom to get ready for the night, you couldn't stop your mind from racing to fantasies far from being appropriate. It didn't help to hear him turning on the shower because now all you could think about was tearing your own clothes off to join him. Somehow you managed to keep your composure - for now at least. 

Spencer looked absolutely adorable with his washed-out Caltech shirt and checkered pajama pants, so much so that you took several seconds to blatantly stare at him when he came back into the room. It caused him to look down at his body to make sure that everything was in place. 

“Sorry, you just look really… cute like that,” you muttered to help with his confused look. 

A slight rosy shade spread over his cheeks at your compliment and he looked at you as if he wasn’t quite sure if you were making fun of him. But of course your words were genuine. 

As you gathered your things to go take a shower yourself, you snickered, “It’s a shame that outfit probably wouldn’t pass the FBI dress code.” 

He took a book out of his bag and sat down on one side of the bed, chuckling, “Yeah, it definitely would not pass.”

The shower helped clear your mind and you were positive that you’d be able to go to sleep without any other distractions. As you approached the bed in your usual nightwear - a tanktop and some colorful shorts - it became obvious that Spencer was even worse at hiding his staring than you were. 

“It’s weird, right?” You asked as you sat down on the bed. “Seeing each other in casual clothes, I mean.”

Without saying a word he just nodded before focussing back on his book again. As you leaned against the headboard of the bed you noticed something that had been bothering you all day. Your back was aching and your shoulders were painfully tense. You stretched your arms over your shoulders before you reached back to massage some tender spots on your neck. 

“You okay?” Spencer asked as he turned his head to watch you. 

“Yeah, it’s just my back pain. I slept weird last night and I have been sitting at my desk too much those past few days,” you explained. 

To your surprise, he offered, “Maybe I could help?”

Before you could consider what feeling his hands against your body would do to you, you replied, “Yeah, that would be nice, actually.” 

You readjusted your position until you sat cross-legged on the bed with your back facing your roommate for the night. Spencer set aside his book and sat behind you, tentatively putting his palms on your shoulders. The heat his body radiated entered your body and lit a spark inside you that you desperately tried to ignore. 

When he began pressing his fingertips into the tense muscles of your shoulders and neck, you instantly became pliable under his touch. The places he touched were innocent but that didn’t change the fact that a familiar warmth spread through your body and collected in your center. 

There was no way to hold back the shy moan from falling from your lips when he found a particularly tender spot. 

He halted his motions to ask, “Did I hurt you?”

“No, it just feels really good,” you breathed. 

“That’s nice to hear,” he cooed in the softest tone you’d ever heard from him. “You deserve to feel good.” 

Those last couple of words echoed in your mind before you could grasp what they meant. It was that moment that you asked yourself if the innocent and shy Spencer Reid was trying to flirt with you. 

To distract yourself, you decided to talk to him - unaware what colossal mistake that was going to be.

“So, where did you learn how to give back rubs?” 

Nonchalantly as ever, he responded, “I read a book about it a few years ago.” 

“You read a book about massages?”

The breath he let out at your question tickled the skin of your shoulders and you broke out in goosebumps. You hoped that he wouldn’t notice. 

“Well, it was about tantric practices and there was a very interesting chapter about… uhm… full-body massages,” he explained, not helping with your current situation at all. 

It was getting almost impossible for you to form coherent sentences, even more so when Spencer continued talking. 

“Are you interested in that?”

Almost jumping at his words, you blurted out, “In getting a full-body massage?!” 

“No!” Spencer laughed. “In reading the book!” 

Before you could respond, you felt his hands wander down your back, lightly rubbing over your shirt. It was getting harder to focus with every second passing, too overwhelming became the need to feel more of him. 

“I’ll think about it,” you finally responded. 

Spencer’s fingertips brushed over your lower back, way too lightly to find any tight spots and you were wondering if he was trying to tease you at this point. 

His words brought you back to reality. “I can continue with my massage if you want but uhm.. your shirt is getting in the way.”

Without thinking about it, you stated, “I’m not wearing a bra.”

“I know,” Spencer chuckled. “I won’t look, I promise. Just lay down on your stomach.” 

The feeling of his hands on your body had left your skin tingling and you were yearning to feel it again. So without questioning his intentions or making sure his eyes were really closed, you took off your top and lay down on the mattress. Spencer kneeled beside you and began working his skilled fingers over your entire back. 

Any tightness from tired muscles slowly left your body but you felt another kind of tension growing in your core. When Spencer grazed the waistband of your shorts with his fingertips, a sigh escaped your throat. He didn’t say anything, instead he kept massaging you until there was no patch of skin on your back left unattended to. 

The second time he brushed over your waistband gave away that he was doing it on purpose. For a moment you thought that he might slip his hands right beneath it to descend further down your body. That thought caused you to unwillingly press your thighs tightly together to soothe the aching between your legs. 

Spencer must have noticed it, too, because he audibly let out a breath right at that moment. His hands were still on your back when a quiet moan left your mouth and you noticed that your hips had started moving ever so slightly, desperate to find some friction. You weren’t sure if Spencer had been watching you doing that until you halted those tiny motions. 

“Don’t stop,” he purred. “You look so pretty like this.” 

You turned your head enough to see him from the corners of your eyes. The hardness straining against his pajama pants was impossible to ignore but even more intriguing was the smirk spread over his face. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were dark and filled with lust. Seeing him like this suddenly let any restraint you had left vanish. 

“Please, Spencer,” you begged him to keep going. 

One of his hands found the side of your face to brush a strand of hair aside. He leaned down to place a soft kiss on your heated cheek before he whispered, “Tell me exactly what you want.” 

Spencer’s hands were all you could think about. Every fiber of your body was longing for him and you felt like you might combust if he didn’t grant you relief anytime soon. 

“Please continue and… go lower.” 

In an instant his hands were on your backside, greedily grabbing your soft flesh through your shorts. 

“Like that?” Spencer groaned. 

You tilted your hips to press your butt against his hands and slowly opened your thighs before you whimpered, “Lower.”

As his fingertips wandered over your thighs you felt how your arousal began soaking through the fabric of your panties. His hands dared to move underneath your shorts, grazing along the apex of your thigh. It was not enough to soothe your aching but enough to drive you wild. 

You moaned out his name before whining, “Take them off, please.” 

“You’re so cute when you get all desperate,” he chuckled in response. 

There was no more teasing then. When he finally grabbed the waistband of your shorts, you immediately lifted your hips so he could pull them down together with your panties. He reached between your thighs to finally touch you where you were burning for him. 

The realization of how aroused you were let a groan escape his mouth. His fingertips glided through your folds before focussing on your most sensitive spot while he purred, "You're so fucking wet." 

It was the first time you had ever heard him use a curse word, the sound of such crude language shooting through you like lightning. All your senses were on edge, you couldn't think about anything else but him. 

The sensation of his fingers moving over your sensitive pearl was somehow too much and not enough at the same time. You hadn't realized that you were grinding your hips against his hand until his words brought you back to reality for a moment. 

"You deserve to feel so, so good. Let me take care of you."

At that you point you weren't even sure what you were begging for when an almost silent "Please," made it past your lips. Spencer, however, seemed to understand. He let two of his digits enter you, finding no resistance from your body. As soon as you felt him inside you, you couldn't help but clench around him.

Slowly he began working his fingers against tight muscles at an angle that made you almost lose your mind. There was no more holding back the sounds of pleasure falling from your lips, so you buried your face into the pillow to muffle your moans. 

You felt Spencer's free hand brushing over your hair while he whispered, "Don't hide those sounds from me. I want to hear you."

With that you turned your head to the side again, just enough to be able to see his beautiful face. His smile was too much for you to handle, so you decided to close your eyes instead. 

The room filled with your moans and mewls and the sound of his hand relentlessly moving against your wet center. Within just a few minutes you were dancing along the edge of euphoria. Spencer noticed that, too.

"You're doing so good," he praised you. "Let go for me, sweet girl." 

You felt him moving over your swollen nub one more time before your body began to tremble beneath him. He helped you ride out your high with a few more skillful motions before he lay down right beside you. 

When he found your eyes, he whispered, "You okay?" 

Instead of answering him, you grabbed his wrist to bring his fingers to your lips. They were still coated with your essence when you took them in your mouth to suck them clean. Spencer stared at you in disbelief, almost as if he was witnessing some kind of miracle. 

You could still taste yourself on your tongue when you found his lips in a hungry kiss. He didn't waste any time to reciprocate your enthusiasm, his tongue meeting yours as the two of you melted into one another. There was no space allowed between the two of you, with your chest pressed hard enough against his you could feel his accelerated heartbeat. 

His palms began wandering over your exposed skin as if he'd never have enough of touching you. Your hand became curious as well, moving underneath the hem of his shirt to finally feel him without any barrier. It wasn't enough though, you needed all of him.

With joined forces you rid him of his clothes and took a moment to take in the beauty of the man in front of you. As your eyes locked once more you found the sweetest smile spread over his face. 

"You're so pretty," you breathed before kissing him again. 

"And you're so beautiful," he mumbled against your lips. 

His hardness was pressed firmly against your thigh and you could already feel the tip leaking onto your skin. A sneaky hand found its way between your bodies to touch him. Your fingertips found soft curls at the base of him before wrapping around his shaft. He felt hot and heavy in your palm and you noticed him twitching when you began moving your hand. 

Spencer gasped into your mouth once you reached his tip and his whole body quivered when you let your thumb swipe over it. Your kiss was interrupted by him panting against your face as you sped up your motions. 

"Look at who is getting desperate now," you teased him. 

He already seemed lost in the pleasure when he whimpered, "Feels so good."

Your hand left his erection to push against his shoulder until he was lying on his back while you snickered, "You know what would feel even better?"

As you began straddling his hips, Spencer's hands flew to your waist. 

He still needed reassurance before he let you continue. "Are you sure about this?" 

You nodded and promised, “I want you Spencer.” 

"I want you, too. More than you can imagine."

With your hand around his cock you lifted your hips to guide him to your entrance. As you sank down on him, Spencer moaned out your name. You took your time, relishing the sensation of him slowly stretching you open. Once he was fully inside, you could feel his heartbeat deep within you. 

As you began grinding your hips against him, his hands moved from your waist to your breasts to caress your soft curves. 

“You have no idea how long I have wanted you,” Spencer sighed.

You leaned down to find him in a kiss before you whispered against his mouth, "You have me now. I'm yours."

His hips began moving in perfect synchronicity with yours as you chased the sweet relief together. When you began moving faster, Spencer suddenly gripped your hips to halt your motions. 

"I'm so close. Slow down," he whined with desperation clearly audible in his voice. 

That didn't slow you down, though. Instead you purred, "Me, too," and kept going. Spencer threw his head back into the pillows and sang your praise in the form of his moans. You tried to hold on just a little bit longer, not to torture him but because you didn't want it to end yet.

When one of his hands descended from your hip to where your bodies were joined, you knew that it wouldn't be long now. He began drawing small circles with his thumb around your little bud, throwing you over the edge within a few seconds. Once he felt your walls pulsing around him, he let go himself. 

Each of your twitches was answered by him throbbing inside you, sharing his essence with you until he had nothing left to give. Spencer welcomed you inside his arms as you collapsed on top of him with a racing heart and lungs longing for air. 

You stayed connected for as long as physically possible but once he was soft, you felt him slowly slipping out of you together with the mixed evidence of your shared desire. Spencer insisted on helping you clean up the mess between your legs and was quick to get a damp towel from the bathroom.

Watching him carefully rid you of any remaining stickiness somehow felt even more intimate than anything you had done before. Neither of you bothered to put clothes back on, instead you cuddled up under the comforter together to savor the sensation of having each other near.

When you thought back to what led you into Spencer's arms earlier tonight, you couldn't hold back your giggles. 

"Maybe I should read that book you mentioned." 

"You can, if you want," Spencer chuckled before he began kissing along your neck. When he found your ear, he whispered, "I'd much rather show you everything it says, though."

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @justreadingficsdontmindme @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @pauline5525mgg @sanaz1dlol @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @beepbooptoop @lovejules888 @liltimmyst @encyclo-reid-ia @lilibet261 @fandomstuffff @spencer-reid-wonderland @happymangospot @conniesanchor @reaux02 @ellamaianderson @cynbx @dashneydanger @melifluorei-d @bitchassbecky691 @iameternallylonely @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @amititties @castiels-majestic-wings @torigorie @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @reidtopia @velvetthunder93 @cncoxlifeline @jordie-gvf-admin @saturnstringz @missabsey @spencerslove @guacam011y @whoopdy-doo @hugyourlungs

[saetoshis]

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ ON DUTY | kaiju no. 8 headcanons

⋆୨୧˚ WITH: ichikawa reno ; hoshina soshiro ; gen narumi

⋆୨୧˚ SUMMARY: where and how they like to fuck you on-base!

⋆୨୧˚ MATURE CONTENT WARNINGS:

fem reader, exhibitionism, suit play [?], oral f. receiving, creampie, pet names [baby, pretty girl], MDNI.

⋆୨୧˚ ICHIKAWA RENO

one thing about reno is his ability to be sly when he needs to. thinking outside the box, considering enemy moves one step ahead - he can truly be sneaky. that might be why he so easily came up with a plan to sneak out after lights-out just to meet up with you. he found an empty office, making sure patrols or cameras were nowhere to be found.

"shh, little quieter, okay?" reno mutters under his breath as he presses his palm over your mouth gently, his other hand having two fingers buried inside your needy pussy. you're so close together, having only a cramped space to do this; your legs wrap around his waist as you sit on the desk, chest pressed up against his. "just moan into my hand, yeah, like that."

"h-hard to be quiet when you're- mm- going so hard," you whimper out airily into his hand, your head reeling back when he fucks his fingers into you a certain way. your thighs shudder around him, and you can feel his cock growing harder each second he's pressed up against you. your arms wrap around his neck, fingers flitting through his hair erratically.

"gonna put it in now, 'kay?" reno pants out in need as he replaces his fingers with his cock, sliding in languidly and savoring each and every desperate enclosure of your cunt around him. he moans out a small 'fuck' when he starts to rut his hips, letting them merge into a quick rhythm that has you clinging onto him and whimpering against his big shoulder. "f-fuck, baby... feels so good. want you to cum on my dick, yeah."

the two of you are so lost in ecstasy that you don't realize the rhythmic bump of the desk against the wall, desperately attempting to muffle each other's moans and mews as you get closer and closer. with a heavy final rut and a shuddered moan out loud, you both are sent reeling in pleasure as you make a mess of each other. reno tries to catch his breath, coming to with a small gasp, "fuck, do you think anybody heard? i should find a better place next time..."

⋆୨୧˚ HOSHINA SOSHIRO

hoshina isn't one for breaking the rules necessarily, or even one to slack off while on the clock - but tonight was different. it was unbelievably late, the whole third division command center was essentially empty, and all kaiju within a ten mile radius were silent on the radar. maybe he could get away with it...

he doesn't even bother slipping out of his anti-kaiju suit before he's lifting you onto the control panel counter, lips pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses along the crook of your neck. all he can think about is how dirty it feels to fuck you where anybody could walk in at any moment. "wanna try somethin' new i've been thinkin' about."

"huh?" you query between heavy panted breaths, slipping your thighs further apart on either side of his hips to accommodate him. you both watch closely as his fingers slowly remove your suit, wandering your waist, then your hips, then your panties. all hoshina mutters along the shell of your ear is a rasped, "i'll show you what."

you finally start to put two and two together when he unzips his own tight-fitted suit, yet keeps it on his body as he presses the head of his cock against the wet spot on your panties. he languidly slips the fabric to the side, letting out a low grunt as he presses his forehead against yours when he ruts forwards. "fuck- wanna see how much you can take with the suit on. you can handle it, can't ya?"

you nod eagerly, already letting out little whines in time with each heavy rock of his hips. it already feels more intense than usual, and he hasn't even put much force into it. you shudder when he picks up the pace, his muscles tautening each time he ruts harder in succession. it's when his hands grip at your thighs and he fucks a bit rougher that you're whimpering out behind your hand in an attempt to stay quiet. "shh- that's it, take it. think you can lemme work up to 50% tonight?"

⋆୨୧˚ GEN NARUMI

narumi doesn't have a problem playing it a little risky, especially when it comes to work. he'd rather laze around as long as possible before he has to get suited up - but backwardly, he also has no problem taking his time fucking you on a time crunch, either.

"narumi, aren't you supposed to start patrol in like, 5 minutes?" you pant out between strained whimpers, trying so hard not to get sucked into his explorative touches and tantalizing kisses. you hold back a shudder when his hand drags up your shirt, circling your nipple and watching it eagerly harden under his fingers. "can't be doing this right now..."

"don't care," he sneers and flashes you an obstinate, yet enigmatic look in his eyes as he slips your shirt upwards. he has you lay on your back as he dips his head down your chest, leaving flicks of his tongue and panted kisses on your tits. it's when his fingers start rubbing between your thighs that you start to cave, feeling a pressure building in your body. narumi looks back up at you, a mischievous glint in his gaze. "wan' you to cum all over my face before i leave. not gonna suit up 'til you do, pretty girl."

"that's so irresponsible-" you start, cut off by a shivered gasp when he slips your shorts and panties off and buries his face between your legs. his tongue swipes along your clit as his fingers dig into the plushness of your hips, little groans leaving his mouth as he tastes and tastes until he's satisfied. knowing him, it'll take a while before he is. "p-please, narumi, they're gonna yell at you."

"don't care. think they're gonna fire me? their strongest captain? nahh," narumi sneers before returning his tongue back to your clit, sucking and rolling his tongue against it over and over again. he knows you're close, he knows how your body works. it's when he uses his fingers to curl against that spot in your walls that he's moaning out, 'cum for me, cum for me, yeah', and watching you shudder as you release all the pent-up stress from your week. a voice sounds over his receiver, barking orders for him to hurry to command center. he sighs, "i know, i know. i'm on the way now."

he turns off the mic again, his little grin coming back to his face. "see? got it done in five minutes, didn't i? better wait for when i get back, yeah? not done with you just yet."

2024 SAETOSHIS. do not copy/repost.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Could you make a fic where Miguel gets the female reader pregnant and they're happy but he's worried about her safety? Maybe have a villain find out? Cause some angst?

A/n: Yesss!

Warnings: blood/ death.

Miguel couldn’t believe that you were pregnant with his child, while he may never admit it he did let a few tears fall when you told him and of course that was not going to stop him from being protective over you, maybe a bit over protective.

He kept a watchful eye on you, he always did his best to make sure that you were by his side. He loved to watch you, you had this glow about you. You were so beautiful.

Placing a hand on your growing belly he had to kneel down to caress your stomach due to his height. “I can not wait to meet you.” It was a whisper but you managed to hear it.

“I know they can’t wait either…and neither can I because boy am I exhausted.” You muttered.

Snorting, Miguel placed a kiss to your belly then looked up smiling. “Would you like for me to give you a message?”

Rolling your eyes you let your fingers run through his hair then playfully pushed his face away. “I know that look in your eyes Miguel, it’s how I got pregnant in the first place. Besides don’t you have..oh I don’t know. Work to do?” You teased lightly.

Groaning, Miguel stood up letting his teeth run over one of his fangs. “I wasn’t going to suggest right away…I was going to weight a bit….but fine yes you’re right but please don’t leave the house.” He hated the thought of leave you alone but he knew he had too, just for a moment.

“I love you.”

Smiling you ran your hand over your belly. “I love you too.”

•

Miguel did his best to return home as quickly as possible though his stomach dropped when he realized that the door was opened. Panic rushing through him, he started to frantically look around the house.

Blood, a small amount of blood including a note. Hand shaking he picked up the paper, eyes flashing red clenched his hands into fists. So they thought that they could take you?

His beloved, his soulmate?

They will not get away with this, he will kill every last one of them.

•

Groaning, you winced feeling a sticky substance on the back of your head. Reaching up you pulled your hand away spotting blood. “Of course…fuck where am I?” Your head was still spinning but from what you could see you were locked in some room.

Gritting your teeth you slowly sat up wrapping your arms protectively around your belly though your stomach dropped when it finally hit you, you were kidnapped.

Miguel, god you hoped he was alright, prayed nothing happened to him though your body tensed hearing screams.

Terrified screams, your heart was pounding as you slowly stepped away from the door. You did your best to stop yourself from shaking as the door flew off it’s hinges.

“Miguel.” His name was a whisper, it seemed like he barley recognized you. You could see blood on his claws, his fingers flexing, chest heaving as his eyes scanned the room until he locked eyes with you.

Your name falling off his lips as his eyes slowly returned to normal, as he took a few shaking steps towards you and soon you were on his arms. He did his best to cheek you over. A small growl escaping his lips seeing the blood. Placing your hand on his cheek you gave him a weak smile. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not…this is.” Shaking his head, Miguel fell to his knees as he wrapped his arms around your elastic drawing you in close. Tears fell down his cheeks as he hugged you close. “I’m sorry…this is all my fault you got hurt,you got hurt because of me.”

Shaking your head you let your fingers run thrift his hair to calm him. His tears soaking your shirt, you knew he would blame himself but you couldn’t blame him.

It was bound of happen, someone was blind to take you.

“Miguel…I’m alright…it was just a little bump.I’m okay now….let’s go home…..you can give me that message okay.”

Chuckling weakly, Miguel blinked away his tear as he slowly stood up. Placing a kiss to your temple he then held you tightly against his chest, hugging you protectively. “Keep your eyes closed until we’re out of here.”

He didn’t want you to see the bodies, he did not want to traumatize you any further.

“Promise me you won’t look?”

Cupping his cheek, you let your thumb glide across his cheek. “I promise.”

Nodding his head he lifted you up as you pressed your face in his neck, keeping your promise you kept his eyes close as Miguel stepped away from the scattered remains of the men that took you.

With you safely in his arms he kept his head high, nothing will keep you from him and with a child on the way.

That was another one he will protect at all cost.

[liveontelevision]

Another Lucifer Rant | Lucifer x Reader

I'M BACK BABY

Give this man a dorky partner ffs.

Lucifer Rant (Pt. 1 kinda)

Warnings: SMUTSMUTSMUT +18, Fluff, Some mentions of overstimulation

○○○

Imagine Lucifer at his best. Sure, when you first get together, it's rocky. He needs someone to help him rediscover himself, and that takes a lot of time and energy from both of you. But after a few years, you start to see who he used to be; When he was an elder angel, daring to break the rules and pursue his dreams no matter what. It occasionally led to some destruction, but seeing him now able to recover from it so easily? It melts your heart. You were sure he wouldn't withstand the failure, but he can handle it. He can handle it because of you.

You praise him for branching out into other inventions and creations, but you'll always love his little ducks more than anything. That being said, you're not the only one seeing his creativity thrive. Hell managed to become a brighter place, with golden decorations and structures that were purely made for public enjoyment. Maybe Charlie's rubbing off on him, but he's finally taking charge of his realm and focusing on his subjects. Seeing Charlie at her best only fuels him more. She's living the life he wanted to when he was her age, and now, he had some catching up to do. He was determined.

PDAs:

With his confidence growing, he starts becoming more comfortable with PDAs. You never minded them, but it was nice to see him letting out his emotions in any way. He started off by holding your hand around others. Even though he would always become a blushing mess, even pulling away if he got too embarrassed by you smiling so geniunely at him, it was progress. It then became something he almost whined about when it wasn't happening. He wants you to hold his hand until it's uncomfortably sweaty and even after.

Lucifer would give small pecks to you as well, on your cheek when you walked in the room, your hair if you were sitting and he had access to the top of your head, and when he was in an especially good mood, a sweet peck on the lips before he'd leave.

Truly, the hardest part was saying I love you. In public and in private. What a strange phrase to get so flustered over when youve been with someone for years, and it did take years, but when he said it to you for the first time you damn near cried. After that, you would try to pepper it into conversations casually, in hopes his embarrassment or shame in the phrase would dissipate. Eventually, it did, and he grinned every time you'd say it, eager to return the phrase.

Now, you do your best to respect his boundaries, but one day it just slipped out of you, in front of a few residents and staff, one of them being Charlie. You didnt realize what you had done wrong, and honestly most of the others in the room didnt either, but once you saw Lucifer's overwhelmed expression it clicked that you may have messed up. You looked around to gauge the room and casually walked over to his shrinking form.

"I'm sorry, my love." You leaned in a bit to whisper to him," Do you need to step out? Should I say anything?" You did your best to stay calm, to be his anchor in this situation, but he cleared his throat and picked up his voice a little louder than your previously hushed tone. "L-Love you, too..! Sweetheart.." it was a small intimacy, but dear lord, were you proud of him. You could tell he struggled to do that, even if no one else paid attention to it. His eyes darted to Charlie, who was suddenly meeting his gaze from the other side of the room, and her eyes were absolutely wide and full to the brim with pride.

You had a few conversations with Charlie about everything. She didn't want too many details, just an update on how he's handling himself when she's not around. As he would get better with confiding his feelings to others, he would eventually talk to Charlie about issues and concerns, but for now, you were happy to relay the news to her.

He's her father, of course she wants nothing more than for him to be happy. It's not like she didn't see his struggle, so she couldn't help but feel pride for this little affection and any of his progress. She was quickly pulled away by Vaggie to avoid an outburst of happy tears in front of everyone, which Lucifer didn't mind. You gave him a quick peck on his forehead after looking around the room and took your seat next to him, continuing a conversation that you barely remember starting.

There were some situations where he would let you perform the PDAs. Sometimes, you would push his limits just to see how far he'd go. He wasn't super into movie nights, but Charlie really loved the idea of watching and discussing movies with wholesome values; an exercise to get people to know eachother amd have healthy debates on certain topics that definitely wouldn't turn into arguments. It happened about twice a month, good movies becoming harder to find in Hell.

You sat next to him close enough that your plush thigh was against his leg. He didn't seem to care too much, I mean, he loved it, but he didn't get too flustered. You would reach your arm around the back of the couch to simulate wrapping your arm around his shoulder, brushing your fingertips across the back of his shirt every now and then. The first time you did it, it took him by surprise, but after that, you could see the enjoyment of your touch.

You made sure to sit on the couch behind everyone else. Otherwise, he would feel the need to constantly look over his shoulders. You would try a few things, like placing your hand over his, then interlacing your fingers, then bringing it to your lips whenever the screen would go black and plunge the room in darkness. He seemed to handle it pretty well.

One night, you'd start off by leaning towards him and sitting on your legs, resting your head on his shoulder. He would respond by hesitantly placing his hand at your waist. You snuggled into him a bit more, making him redder in the face, but also giving him a subtle you're doing great.

If he did ever get too uncomfortable, he'd pull a blanket up and around both your shoulders, giving him a sense of security. On another night, you tried to pull him into you. It happened throughout the movie. You would pull him in by his waist, and he would scooch closer to you, then he would prop his arm up behind you and press his cheek against your shoulder. This was definitely a favorite position of his. Some tiring days, he would nod off. You made sure to wake him before anyone noticed.

Privacy:

After a while, he'd especially love touching you in private. When you would sit on his little couch and work on your own things in his office, he would take breaks and come over to lay his head in your lap. If he's lucky, you'd be reading or doing something where you only needed one hand, so your vacant fingers could be used to lightly comb through his hair.

He would take any chance to be above you, leaning down over the couch when you were sitting and giving you light kisses, or wrapping his arms around you while he stood on the elevated platform his workbench was set on.

With all the issues he had to overcome, you noticed he never really seemed too upset over his height. He was an angelic all-powerful beast, it's not like he was forced to look that way. I mean, you saw him shapeshift, he could easily add a few feet to his height. Actually, sometimes it seemed like he enjoyed the height difference. Whenever you would have to bend at the hips to give him a level kiss, he would make the goofiest grin. Or when you'd wear heels, he would constantly offer to fasten them on your feet and shower you with affection, then in public, he'd place his hand around your hips instead of linking your arms like usual.

Goofy Stuff:

His overly confident mask that he would use to intimidate others and laugh off serious situations was finally becoming more sincere. You loved seeing him that way, bringing smiles to everyone in the room when he spoke. When it was just the two of you, all his energy went into making you smile. And it always worked, he would make you giddy.

He loved to simply be around you. When you had to get ready for some kind of event, he would sit next to you at your vanity, simply watching you doll yourself up. He'd praise you, "you look so beautiful, darling~" then he'd tease you, "you know, i think that color would look much better on me." And you weren't one to back down, applying a thick layer of gloss to your lips and pulling him in to transfer as much as you could onto his lips. You pulled away, unphased, and went back to your makeup. "Hm! I agree! I'll let you wear it more often, then." He'd stammer out some sort of angry reply and cross his arms over his chest, having to admit defeat.

When you'd come home and would need to wash your face, you'd repeat your skin care routine on him. He didn't need it, but he loved to feel your hands touch and massage his face. In exchange, you'd force him to let you groom him (preening his wings, maybe cleaning up his eyesbrows, styling his hair in new ways, etc.) If you had the energy for it, that is. It was like clipping a cats nails. But the reaction and the outcome were so worth it.

You'd do his makeup on occasion, sometimes going far too dramatic for his taste just to watch him struggle to admit it wasn't his style without insulting you. You'd admit it was on purpose, and he'd tackle you playfully. Like before, you both ended up with the same lip color afterward.

You loved to get eachother flustered, sometimes youd pat him on the bottom when moving past him just to see him dramatically gasp." My love, we're in public! Right in front of Keekee??" He'd dramatically gesture to the cat who quite literally left the room while he was talking.

He'd blow into your ear when you were distracted, sending a chill down your spine. You'd knock your head into his on purpose, and he would swoon, crying out about being mistreated. Truly a theatric man.

Overall, he was finally bringing a geniune confidence to the table and you couldnt be prouder of him.

18+ Intimacy:

He was quick to discover he liked all the fluffy, cuddly stuff, but it took him years to rekindle any kind of sexual attraction to anyone. It was another big insecurity that he had, wondering if it was one of the reasons he drove Lillith off. It's not like he had anything to compare his work to, but he definitely didn't need to worry. Practice makes perfect. (And he was with Lillith for thousands of years.. so... plenty of time for practice.)

At first, you'd take the lead. You didn't mind. You loved taking care of him. After he'd suggest you two become more intimate, you'd still have to stop after some deep kisses and light grinding. Not that he would finish so soon, he just didn't have the stability to even imagine going through a night with your intimate gaze on him for so long. After a while, you'd start sitting on his lap, constantly reassuring him and giving him praises for doing so good. "If you need to stop, let me know, my love. Tap me -" you would lead his hand to the top of your thigh, " - if you can't find the words, okay?" He would let out a nervous chuckle, subconsiously giving your thigh a soft squeeze at the motion before nodding his head.

You had to talk him through everything, and dear lord, did he love hearing your voice. As ironic as it is, he would melt at any praise you gave him." You're doing so good, sweetheart," "You like that, love? You look so beautiful right now~", "Mmm, keep that up, you're doing so well." No matter how much you tried to keep your voice calm and sultry, he really enjoyed and almost preferred your hitched breath and sweet words directly by his ear. The phrase that got him going more than anything? "I love you, Lucifer." The combination of those words and hearing his name slip from your lips almost always made him whimper quietly.

When you first heard him whimpering, you would subtly check on him, making sure he was doing okay without embarrassing him and calling it out. Oh, he was doing okay. More than okay.

You would usually proposition him, but sometimes, he would blatantly ask you if you two could be intimate. It was always so cute when he did that. But one day, he asked shyly for you to sit, then he hesitantly sat on your lap. Your rosie cheeks grew even redder, and you placed your cool hands on your face to try and calm yourself. It took you a second to finally look up at him, his expression even more embarrassed than yours. You hated to admit that it made you feel better, but it really did. You took your hands and placed them on his cheeks, which were much hotter than yours. He rubbed his face into your palm, his hand holding your wrist to keep your touch close.

After a moment, he'd lean down to kiss you, it was just bliss. The rare view he had, looking down to meet your eyes, left him happy to give in to his more intimate desires. After being seated on your lap for so long, and finally adjusting to the unconscious grinding that would go on, he'd start to reach for the edge of his pants without much thought. Once he had pulled out his shaft, your eyes would quickly widen and break away from the kiss to assess the situation. Before you could, he lifted your head back to look into his eyes, suddenly glowing red. "P-Please, can I.. i don't know if im ready for, b-but- I need - " his eyes were a threatening color, but you noted that he was still struggling with this decision. He still needed some time before letting you touch him that way.

You pulled him in for another kiss, "I won't look or touch, okay? That's what you want?" You clarified, running your hands through his hair. He nodded shyly, his hand still holding onto himself. You smiled and reconnected your lips. "Okay, love. I don't mind at all - " you reassured him, taking his free hand and kissing his palm. Looking up at him through his fingers, you grinned into his hand, grazing your teeth down his wrist." I would be honored, actually." You say bravely, the situation giving your boldness a boost. He would let out a nervous laugh that seemed almost too loud, then follow it by sucking in his lips to not embarrass himself anymore than he already has.

Keeping up with his speed, you did only what he was comfortable with. Doing only what he wanted from you. It made you almost arrogant to feel him stroke himself and whimper into your lips, getting off just from your kisses alone. You would break away only to leave some soft kisses on his neck. You attempted to leave a hickey or two below his jawline, but he quickly tapped your thigh, wordlessly telling you that was too much. "Good boy~" you'd breathe against his neck, seeing his chest heave at the words. You moved down to his collarbone and chest, slowly beginning to suck in and bite his porcelain skin there. He let out a muffled agreement and nodded his head, more accepting of somewhere that would be easier to cover. You left almost too many bruises on him after that. To be fair, any blossoming mark was exentuated against his sensitive, white skin.

It didn't take too long for him to finish after that. He let out a gasp, then a muffled moan as you felt some of his fluids leak onto your stomach. He didn't even let himself get over his high before pulling a tissue out of thin air and cleaning you up. You let your head lean back, looking towards the cieling as he situated himself, keeping your promise to not look until he's ready. "O-oooh dear.. That was... Gross, right? Sorry.." You quickly look at him and scoffed, holding onto his face and pulling it close. "Don't say that, Lucifer..! Thank you for trusting me with this..." You brushed your thumb across his cheek, his expression still disheartened." I wouldn't have let that happen if I didn't want it, you know that. Besides, if you're really concerned, i'll just have to join you next time." You teased a sly smirk across your face. His eye twitched, and you could feel the heat in his face return." Good lord, I don't deserve you." He squeaked out before standing up and almost tripping over himself, complaining about his stiff legs right away.

Side note: I feel like when he would complain about being sore at all, you'd joke at him and say things like, "Oh, don't be a baby." And he'd reply with a joke, "Woah there, save the dirty talk for the bedroom." And that's what triggers you to start calling him baby any chance you could get, especially in the bedroom.

Going all the way was a big step. He was more comfortable starting on top of you,  but just like before, he realized how much he preferred, loved, to have you ride him. You made sure he had the tapping system in effect, but he would constantly check on him the first time he asked to try it this way. You were almost ashamed to admit you got a bit carried away. With you almost hitting your high, you probably took on more than he could handle. You didn't realize until you looked down at his face. His eyes were shut tight, a tear or two rolling down his heated face, and his lips were parted and letting out pathetic little noises. A face that some might see as a demon drunk on sex, but you knew you had taken him a little too hard. You slowed down, his breath finally becoming lighter." I-I'm sorry.. I-I -" his voice was raspy as his began apolgizing." No - don't be. I'll be gentle." You finally started back up, a slow grind, after letting him catch his breath. "Remember to use your words, baby - " You took his hand and planted it on your thigh as another reminder to communicate his thoughts. He nodded, a slight hitch in his breath as you spoke. You went on to cherish a more intimate night with him.

That's how it started, but as time went on, your playful relationship came to the bedroom. Lucifer would be in the middle of grinding his hips into yours, attempting to say something flirtatious in your ear when his voice would crack, or he'd say something that didn't come out right. You'd cover your mouth in an attempt to not laugh." Oh, cmon! I'm trying to be sexy here." He'd waggle his eyebrows at you and youd bring him into a smiling kiss. "Well, i'd say you're doing a great job, babe." You spoke so sincerely afterward that he'd become a little flustered. "O-Oh.. you.. think so..?" You hummed against his ear,

"Nope~"

He'd let out an aggravated groan and start to get off of your lap." No-no! I'm sorry, i'm kidding! You're sexy, come back!" You'd laugh out, reaching for his hips and planting him back onto your lap." Damn right, I am." He'd grumble, smashing his lips against yours in a suddenly intense kiss. In all honesty, probably to shut you up.

---

You love him so dearly. You barely realize how much he loves you, maybe due to how badly he struggles with his words. As time goes on, all Lucifer wants is to give himself to you. Give every little bit of his love to the one who's spent so much time caring for him and helping him become a better person. He'd sometimes consider that he could never be able to return the favor.

But he would. You knew he could.

○○○

I'll still take requests for some Luci prompts if anyone's thirstin'

Also, I have over 100 followers?? Which i wasn't expecting to happen when I first made this account (literally made it just to look at Hazbin smut if i'm outing myself) So thanks for all the support! This is such a great community 🥹

[hoesformatt]

BEACH “CRUSH”

chris fluff, idk i was listening to biking by frank ocean and came up w this

cutesy!chris • black!reader

contains: established relationship (private), beach setting, kissing, pet names, no use of y/n, both your pov and chris’ pov

word count: 0.7k

The water being a dark, clear blue and the sky being a lighter blue was easy on my eyes while I got up from sitting on the raw sand. I felt the warm sand under my feet, creeping up between my toes as I walked along the dry parts of the beach lines.

It was Senior Ditch Day and I was making the best of it, taking dips in the water, eating ice cream and enjoying the summer sun.

Looking up at the large boulders, my eyes met Chris’, whose hair was shining against the sun. With the sun beaming on my chocolate-like skin, I enjoyed the rays that complimented my being. Chris sat around with his two other brothers, and I couldn’t help but stare.

For a second, I observed until I turned to face the other way, to the opposite end of the beach. My dark curls whisked through the cool wind to either side of my face.

Shaye waltzed up to me, "I'm getting picked up soon” I nodded, glancing back once again to see the boys disappear from their last spot, making me question where they disappeared to.

We spent the whole day at the beach and all was thinking of was the amount of girls that would approach my boyfriend, but at one point Shaye had to leave since her parents had come to pick her up and we parted ways.

As I was at the edge of the beach, when the water washed up closer to cover the sand, my feet were soaked with the trickling warm water. “Hey” I turned to the left of me to meet the brunette boy beside me with a growing smile “Hi” I smiled back at him. We acted awkward, as we don’t usually show PDA, or even talk in public. His eyes parted from mine, panning towards the water.

It was quiet for a bit as I watched the emotion on his face. “I just came up to you— because you look really, really pretty” My smile turned into a grin, and I giggled a little bit.

The rays of sun hit his eyes, highlighting how much of a bright blue they were, I think he’s prettier than me.

He took his hand in mine, intwining our fingers while he guided me to the place under the rocks, that was filled with water when the water washed up.

“I love the shade down here— but I couldn’t be here because there were always couples making out here." We chuckled together at my last remark as we crouched down and sat, I sat on my knees and said, “Yeah, I know— all the guys just came down here with their girlfriends— or just girls they thought were hot, and brought them here." I expressed a disgusted look.

“Did you bring a girl you thought was hot, here?” I sassed him. “Yeah. You” I cracked at Chris’ slick joke before I looked toward the wind direction, making my hair flow to the right.

Chris adored me, his soft hand holding my head as he turned it in his direction to lean in and put his lips on mine. His other hand landed on my thigh, caressing it as our kiss got harder, He bit my bottom lip and my breath hitched.

We began to lose our breath after making out for about five minutes when we heard the sound of steps in the sand. “OH SHIT, CHRIS AND CRYSTAL GIRL ARE MAKING OUT UNDER THE ROCKS!”

They call me Crystal Girl? Shit I’ll take it.

Our lips parted as we realized what Briar had done, and we crawled out from under the rocks, racing to catch Briar when he ran as fast as he could along the beach line.

He had slowed down, and Chris tacked him to the ground. “Get his ankles” We chuckled while Briar tried to wiggle out of our grasp, and we got into the water, counting down the seconds to when we were going to throw him into the water.

We let go of him, and he made a big splash, getting us a little wet. The rest of our classmates watched closely, laughing with us.

tags: @lunariaxzz @chrissturniolosbitch @leahsbussy @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @idkwhosnyla @strniohoeee @iiheartstef @nonamegirlxsturniolo @ka1nani @1800chokedathoe @fuzzycupcakebeliever @mattgirly @love4chris @mattslutt @nickgetsmewetter @luhsexcbihh @hearts4chriss @thenickgirl @jnkvivi

[vaspider]

Feisty Lady Anger and other things about me you hate

My mother prizes her anger, for all that she doesn't express it openly. I tell stories about her spiteful, steel-spined responses to people who told her, "You can't do that," and I point to them as Why I Am How I Am. Her father told her he wouldn't pay for her college because "women only go to earn the MRS degree," and she could "get married and have babies" without college. In response, Mom got her bachelor's in Mathematics in 1970 on her own dime, back in the days when in-state students didn't pay tuition at state schools (just another thing Reagan ruined). She worked and paid for her books and housing, got her degree, paid for her own wedding because he wouldn't do that either. Taught school, got her Master's, had three kids, started her Ph.D. with 3 under 6 and became a professor when the youngest was 5.

Tell me I can't, my mom told the world, and I'll show you that I can. I won't just do it, I'll become a department head and a Distinguished Professor and retire after 30 years of teaching other math teachers with a list of achievements as long as my arm.

There is an anger that runs deep in the women in my family. Tell me I can't, and I'll show you I can. Show me injustice and I'll tear at it with my teeth and hands, staring you down while I do. Backwards and in heels.

I can't tell you the moment I crossed out of Feisty Lady Anger in the eyes of the people close to me, but I can tell you the moment I noticed. Maybe it was when my voice started dropping or the growing muscles on my shoulders pulled my stance more square and upright. Maybe it was when I moved from they/them to he/they, and somehow I stepped from Diet Woman to Too Close To Man in their eyes.

It's a funny thing when all of a sudden your anger becomes real enough to be startling to people. Your anger is no longer feisty, charming, and attractive. This thing that people liked about you, that people who say they love you said they loved about you, suddenly becomes frightening, upsetting, and terrible. The way you didn't let people mow over you and fought back used to be a thing that people admired. It was actively attractive. It was one of your best qualities.

Now? It's ugly. It's disgusting. It's scary. The thing you were is gone, and now your anger is real to them.

It's in that moment that the blade cuts back towards you. You realize the reason your squared shoulders and set jaw drew people in couldn't be squared with the stubble on that jaw or the newfound strength in your arms. Feisty Lady Anger isn't real, not in the way a man's anger is real. Feisty Lady Anger is admirable, sure, but it is admirable because of its essential ineffectual nature. At most, Feisty Lady Anger fixes minor problems for the kids at school, gets the principal to back down from scolding your child when she politely asks the kid calling her a faggot on the bus if he knows what that really means, pushes a woman to achieve for her family, in appropriately neutered ways.

When you stop pretending to be a woman and become who you really are, when your anger becomes real, you realize both that the thing about you that people loved is gone and that this thing was attractive in the first place because of its ineffectiveness. Your anger wasn't scary because it wasn't real enough to be threatening.

Now you have Man Anger, and, you're told, you should apologize for that. It doesn't matter if it's the same anger you've always had, or that you're angry about the same things. It comes now in baritone, with belly hair and bellowing, and now it's both real and disgusting.

The worst part is watching it come from people you thought should know better, the people who should understand. You spent nearly 40 years being told to sit down and shut up because the men in your professional career were speaking, assured that if you just waited your turn, you'd be given a place to speak eventually, and now here you are being told within a community that claims to love and understand you, by people that claim to be in community with you and love who you are, that you actually don't have any real problems to speak about, also your Man Anger and Man Privilege (when do I get that, please?) are Scary and mean you should sit down and wait, and you'll be given a place to speak eventually.

It is the Transmasculine Catch-22: if you become Man Enough to no longer fit into Almost Lady, your anger becomes Real, which makes you realize that your anger wasn't Real before, but because it's Real now, you're not allowed to have it. And by the way, you're not allowed to be neither Man or Lady - now you're Man Enough, and that makes it all the more clear how you were simply Kirkland Signature Lady right up until the point you weren't.

There will be a few people who Fucking Get It, who don't see you as either a Failed Lady or a Broken Man, and you'll love those people all the more for their rarity. It won't take the sting out of realizing that the things people you love loved about you before now disgust and repel them, but it'll make it enough to keep going.

You couldn't stop, anyway. You've never felt more yourself, and the people who don't love you, the actual you, the real you... the loss of that hurts, but not nearly as much as the idea of pretending to be something else did.

[jayflrt]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝟕𝟖𝟔 35. change my world

"I CAN'T STAY FOR LONG," were the first words out of Jay's mouth as soon as you opened the door for him. "I've gotta finish a project when I get back home. She changed the deadline to—hey, what's wrong?"

You looked crestfallen for a moment, but as soon as Jay pointed it out, you perked right back up again. He took a second to study your expression before stepping into your foyer. Your penthouse was always a little intimidating; growing up, Jay couldn't even imagine stepping foot in a place so lavish.

"Nothing. Just trying to make myself busy for next weekend so I don't have to visit my dad," you replied with an unamused laugh. "You free?"

"I don't think either of us will be; Jennie sent us all a text a few hours ago." He held up his phone to show you the messages. "She wants us to be free the entire weekend."

"Friday and the weekend?" you read off the screen before frowning. "Is that when we get hazed?"

Jay shrugged before he cracked a smile. "Guess you don't have to visit your dad, at least." This was perhaps the perfect opportunity for him to get more information on your family—a golden opportunity considering you brought up your father on your own. Before you could change the topic, he pressed on, "But why don't you wanna see him?"

"It's a long story." You sighed, but it didn't seem like you were unwilling to divulge. Your eyes were gleaming a little, and Jay wanted to believe that you were hoping he'd stay. "How about I tell you over ramen?"

He pulled off his jacket before reaching your dining table. There was only one bowl of ramen set out, so Jay paused before he proceeded to sit down. To his surprise, you sat a chair away, looking up at him expectantly.

"Where's yours?" He didn't mean for there to be an edge of suspicion to his voice, but Jay couldn't understand why you wouldn't make a bowl for yourself.

You propped your elbow on the table to rest your chin in your palm. "I just wanted you to try it. How does it taste?"

"You should eat, too."

"Later—just try it!"

Since you seemed so eager, Jay picked up the noodles with his chopsticks and ate a mouthful, humming with delight when the flavor hit his tongue. He looked over to see you beaming at him with anticipation, and he nearly felt his chest stutter from how flustered he felt as you stared at him.

"Good"—he coughed after swallowing down his food too quickly—"it's really good."

You swelled with pride, and before you could open your mouth to respond, Jay cut you off by holding up another mouthful of noodles to your mouth. His other hand was cupped below where the noodles were dangling from the chopsticks.

Like that, you and Jay started talking about school and the Order while you shared the bowl of ramen. Not about whatever was going on with you and your father. There wasn't much to catch up considering he had seen you several times over the past week, but conversation somehow felt so easy with you.

Jay had never been a people person; his social battery was low and he had no interest in expanding his circle. Ever since he moved to Connecticut, his world seemed to grow a little bigger.

And it seemed as though he had a space carved out for you in his heart, but Jay was sure he would be a fool if he tried to fill that void.

The conversation eventually moved to the couch after you and Jay had finished eating and nearly tackled each other to wash the bowl and chopsticks in the sink. Jay was feeling overly-conscious of your knee touching his and the faint scent of your perfume lingering in the space between you two.

It was when you were showing Jay a picture of your dog, Butters, when you brought up your father again.

(Jay had been secretly hopeful that you wouldn't mention him. The more you told him about your life, the more it tore him up inside as he realized he either had to betray you or his client.)

"Butters always gets so happy whenever I'm home," you said with a pout, staring at the picture of your Pomeranian facing the wind. "He must really miss my mom, too." You looked up at Jay again, grinning sheepishly when you saw the confused look on his face. "It was this whole thing from when I was a kid. My parents are separated, but they're not divorced... it's weird. Their relationship was rocky for a long time, but back in freshman year, my mom decided to just leave as soon as I left for Yale. I guess me moving out for college was what she was waiting for."

Jay's heart clenched painfully and he murmured, "I'm sorry. Is that why you didn't wanna see your dad?"

"Pretty much." With a heavy sigh, you leaned your head against Jay's shoulder. He stiffened up for a moment before relaxing—even scooting a little bit closer. "I just keep waiting for them to get together and make up again so that we can go back to being a family. It's, like"—you sniffled—"so annoying."

Another sniffle. You wiped at your eyes furiously, as if you were mad that they even dared to water. Jay kept his gaze down, unsure if you were comfortable with him watching you cry. He wished he wasn't so useless in these situations. You froze up for a moment when Jay brought his hand close to your face, but you closed your eyes and let him wipe a stray tear away.

"You can't tell anyone, okay? No one else knows about this, like, no one," you continued. "Especially not Sunoo."

"Of course I won't," Jay replied, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, "but Sunoo?"

"My mom and his dad used to date, apparently," you said, picking at your nails now. "That's why my dad thinks she wants to leave him."

"Sunoo's dad? But—"

"I really shouldn't get into it any further," you interjected quickly, "because that's Sunoo's business, too."

Sunoo never shared much about his family, so this was all news to Jay. Yet, he was sure he would have found out earlier if your mother was currently with Sunoo's father. Sunoo would've mentioned it, wouldn't he? What was your mother's motive then? Why would she walk out if her intent wasn't to leave her husband for an old flame?

Furthermore, Jay hardly realized that he kept gravitating closer and closer to you, but by the time your head was against his chest and his arm was around your shoulders, he realized he couldn't back away without offending you. He just hoped you weren't able to hear his heartbeat thundering in his chest.

"Is that why you two fell out?" he asked gently.

"Kind of." You angled your neck so that you could look up at Jay. "What about your family? You're always so mysterious."

"Mysterious? You've been to my apartment before."

"Not that—I just wanna know if you have secrets, too."

Jay swallowed thickly. "Everyone has secrets."

"But I wanna know more about you—your story, where you came from," you pressed, shifting your position so that you were facing him. Jay found it hard to breathe when you were so close. "I feel like you hide so much under the surface."

You have no idea, he thought, rueful.

Jay couldn't think of anything in particular that he could tell you, though. The only secrets he had were ones that he had to keep from you no matter what, especially when it came down to his work as a private investigator.

There was one thing, he supposed, that changed him forever. It wouldn't have done him any good to tell you about it—not when the very thought made his throat close up and his eyes water. He didn't even want to see the look on your face when you found out what he had done, what his client had on him.

"You're, like, insanely smart, too," you breathed out. "How is it you know everything? You even impressed everyone in the Order."

"I wouldn't say everything."

You shot him a pointed look. "Dr. Corvera literally offered you a research internship after lecture."

"Whoa." A faint smirk crept to his lips. "Are you stalking me or what?"

"I just happened to eavesdrop." Jay was far too delighted with the way you shied away from him. "But, seriously, why don't you give yourself enough credit? You're like... Master Oogway."

"The turtle? From Kung Fu Panda?" Jay deadpanned.

"Well, he's a tortoise."

"See? I didn't know that."

You scoffed lightly, voice dropping low as you rattled on, "And you're really good at Calculus, too... and you have a perfect GPA. Are you sure you're not—"

"I'm two years older, remember?" Jay cut you off before he could hear any of your theories, hoping that none of them implied that he was any more of an outsider than he felt. "I know how to code and I know around twenty programming languages, so the math sort of comes with that."

His answer only seemed to inspire more amazement in your eyes, and Jay suddenly felt hot even without his jacket.

"My only useful strength is talking to people," you said with a crooked grin, "which is why I'm pretty good at interviews and making people like me."

"I can tell. You're always the center of everything."

"Rude."

"That's not a bad thing," Jay said, shooting you a sideways glance. "People naturally gravitate toward you. You're just..." The whole package was what Jay wanted to say, but he was afraid that would get deeply misinterpreted, so he settled for saying, "You're just perfect."

Perhaps that wording was at greater risk for being deeply misinterpreted.

Your lips were parted for a moment—whether it was from shock or repulsion, Jay didn't want to know—and your eyes had a new gleam to them that he hadn't seen before. He wondered if his comment made you blush because you kept your head ducked down.

(And he wanted to kiss you. He really wanted to kiss you. This wasn't something Jay wanted to make obvious, but he found his gaze lingering on your lips for far too long before he managed to look away.)

He suddenly felt his mouth go dry while his heart did stupid backflips that you were sure to hear. How was he supposed to get himself out of this one? No, no, that wasn't what he meant—oh, but that was exactly what he meant.

"I'm not perfect at all," you said with a laugh. "Is that how you see me?" You shook your head. "I wish I was good at things like you are. I'm not as ambitious as you are either, which is a total waste. I always feel like someone else should've been born in my place."

That certainly would've made this mission much easier for him, but he felt as though your perception of him was misplaced. Ambition? Jay only wanted to help people, and he deduced over the years that he was terrible at that.

"I'm not that great as you're making me out to be," he said. "I'm really happy you think of me like that, but it's not like I've... changed the world or anything."

Jay remembered when he graduated college with Jake. Back then, Jay still had stars in his eyes and hopes for the future. Despite everyone who told him that his skills were better suited for a high-profile job complete with exploitation and corruption, Jay knew that he wanted to do something meaningful.

But that never happened. He was never going to save anyone.

You hesitated before you said, "You changed mine."

Jay sadly smiled at you, mostly because if you ever found out who he truly was, then you would quickly realize that he had probably changed your life for the worst.

Instead, he admitted in a soft voice, "You changed mine, too."

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ▸ private investigator jay park just wants to complete his mission quietly and move on with his life. you, his new assignment who keeps consuming his thoughts, don't make that very easy for him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ▸ longish chapter to make up for the tiny break i took 🫶

TAG LIST ▸ @zdgx1 @smouches @heesdazed @teawithbucky @leep0ems @peachpie4you @niniissus @kgneptun @jaeyunluvr @zerasari @sophiko22 @iselltulips @hoondiors @baekhyunstruly @jays-property @woninluv @heerinnie @fakeuwus @yizhoutv @theothernads @y4wnjunz @dammit-jjk @en-happiness @mari-oclock @soonyoungblr @jakeslvt @taetaenic @jebetwo @fairysungx @hsgwrld @shmooooo @ineedsomezzz @mrowwww @enha-stars @seongclb @lockburn-castle @alyssajavenss @enczen @calumsfringe @w3bqrl @luvyev @uhsakusa @luvnicho @wildflowermooon @navsnct @hooniesuniverse @enhalov @enhypens-baby @isawritesss

[emssturniolo]

delicate

pairing: matthew sturniolo x reader

summary: your soft spoken tone doesn’t let you make new friends, but matt is who you only really need

warnings: use of yn, and names such as baby ;)

a/n: very rare emssturniolo matt fan fic ! whaaat ?!??

happy reading :)

you and matt were currently at a party with his brothers. it was a party of some influencer who you didn’t really know, and had never spoken to

but you didn’t want to ruin the night for matt, who seemed to be excited to go to this party with his brothers and friends, so you promised yourself, for his sake, to try and make some new friends to talk to while you’re there

you went in confident and ready, to just tell your anxiety to fuck off and get out of your (very comfortable) comfort zone. yet, every time that you tried to talk to some girl that seemed remotely interesting to you, they would give you one of three main responses: make a weird face and shrug you off, try to talk to you and end up leaving, or just straight up insulting you - see there was a small problem with you and parties; you were too soft spoken to be heard in places with loud music and a lot of talking. so every time you tried to talk to someone, they wouldn’t be able to hear you and they’d either just leave or tell you to speak up, which was quite literally impossible for you to do, since your voice just didn’t go any higher than the slight next step from a whisper

yet you were determined. you didn’t want to cling onto matt, you wanted him to have fun and have some alone time with his friends, away from you. the last thing you needed was for him to think you’re too clingy. so you tried again, for the third time, to talk to a girl. this time, you spotted a girl sitting alone on the couch in the living room of the house the party was being held in. she was just on her phone when you sat next to her, and said “hey, you wanna talk?” and she diverted her attention away from her phone and looked at you with a smile. this was going well,,, surprisingly. “yeah sure! what’s your name?” she asked, “mine’s jenna.”, you smiled, “i love that name! i’m yn!” - jenna looked confused for a second before asking you, “sorry, what was that?”. she hadn’t heard you. “i said i love that name, i’m yn!” you tried again, raising your voice a bit higher, or as much as you could. “i can’t hear you! look, if you’re not gonna speak up i don’t think we can talk!”, jenna scoffed, and got up and left

tears brimmed at your eyes. you knew you weren’t speaking loud, but there was no reason for people to be so mean about it - so you gave in, and went to find matt. you needed him urgently, just a hug would be enough, but you couldn’t find him. you were growing more anxious by the second, so you quickly shot matt a text

matt<3

hey where are you?

i’m on the balcony

why what’s wrong?

can we meet ? like outside ?

yeah sure :)

and with that, you found matt outside the door of the house. the second you came close enough, you hugged him tightly. light tears ran down your warm cheeks, and as soon as matt realized, he pulled back, his hold still on you - gentle, but firm. “what’s up, my love? what’s wrong?” he spoke gently, just to match your delicate state. “nothing, just tried to talk to some people to let you have fun, but they always gave me weird looks or responses when i talked low.” you lightly let out a breath. he hugged you again, his delicate hands sinking into your skin, you above your hips - to let you know he’s there

“baby, look at me. you know i love everything about you, but trust me, that soft, gentle, beautiful, sweet, delicate tone of your voice is on my ‘top three things i love about yn’ list. promise.” and with that, he stuck out his pinky finger, which was immediately interlocked with yours, a kiss planted on each other’s fingers, and another one right after, planted on each other’s lips

“i love you, my sweet girl.” he said, sincerely. and you could tell, just by the stars in his eyes which show up anytime he talks about something he’s passionate about,,,

or talking about you

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Badge Bunny

Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader

Summary: Getting pulled over by one of Stark Counties finest turns into anything but a routine traffic stop.

Word count: 3.3K

18+ MDNI! Go on, get!

Warnings: Porn with a smidge of plot. Allusion to cheating (but not really!). Degradation. Oral (male receiving). Throat fucking. Spitting. Choking. Breeding kink. Size kink. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it!). Creampie.

Note: Thank you @starksbabie for keeping me motivated and constantly feeding the already rampant Gator thots! This one is for you you bb!

Badge Bunny Masterlist

Making your way down the familiar stretch of highway you weren't paying attention to any of your surroundings, only looking forward to getting home after a long night. 

Headlights cutting through the dark, deserted fields on either side of the small 2 lane road. Nothing went on this time of night. 

You hadn't noticed passing the familiar truck parked a little off the road in the gravel alcove. 

Humming along with the radio lost in your own little world the sudden bright blue lights behind you hit your eyes from the reflection in the rearview. 

“Shit,” you hissed, but wasted no time pulling over on the shoulder, rolling down the window as you came to a stop.

You watched through the side mirror. He slowly exits his truck as if he had all the time in the world. Adjusting his pants and belt before making his way toward you. 

You noted he was missing his vest and usual hat. Black shirt tight across his chest and abdomen. His thigh holster was exactly where it always was, an accessory he was almost never without. 

He sidled up to the window. Leaning down, so he could see your face. 

“Evening, license and registration.” You couldn't roll your eyes any harder. 

“Gator, I really need to get home. What's your problem this time?” 

“Hey now, that's no way to speak to a deputy.” He tapped the badge strapped to his hip. Black gloves still adorn his hands. Pity. He did have nice hands. 

“Sorry officer, where are my manners? What seems to be the problem tonight?” You put on your best innocent sounding voice, biting your lip as you looked up to him.

“Well, looks like you were going over the speed limit. Wanna step out of the vehicle for me?” his hard ass attitude on full display. 

“Gator, seriously?” You deadpanned and rolled your eyes, but he didn't budge staring down his nose at you, maintaining his authoritative demeanor. 

“Come on…out.” Patting the side of the door for emphasis. 

Quickly realizing it was no use, huffing as he stepped back to make room for you to exit the car.  

He whistles low. Appraising your bare legs in the skirt you wore for work. Waitressing at the local bar has its perks. Nice tips for a little skin.

It didn't help that your tits were pushed up practically spilling out of your top. The only sensible part of your outfit was the converse sneakers to battle any fatigue from running around all night. 

“And where are you off to dressed like that? Your boyfriend let ya’ out of the house like this?” His eyes drifting down and back up. 

Closing the door, and leaning against the side of the car he inches closer as he spoke. Looking up at him from under your lashes growing more unamused by the second. 

“My boyfriend doesn't mind at all, especially when I bring home nice tips. We both know if anyone in this town looks at me wrong he'd kill’m.”

“Is that so pretty girl? Well, he's not here is he?” Making a show to look around at the deserted surroundings, smirking back at you. “Go ahead and turn around for me.” 

You scoff. “Gator, is this absolutely necessary? I may have been going 5 over the limit.” 

“Afraid so. Have t’make sure you don't have any weapons. Hands on the side of the vehicle. Go ahead.” Nodding toward the car.

You huff again but finally relent. Turning around slowly, placing your hands palm down; you'd been through this before, you knew the routine. 

He stalked his way up to you. Anticipation already prickling your skin. Your panties growing damp. 

His chest close enough to your back that you could feel the heat radiating from him even through your shirt. 

His lips ghosted the shell of  your ear when he spoke. 

“If that boyfriend isn't going to put you in your place I guess I'll have to. And the way you've been sassing me, little girl, I've got my hands full t’night.” 

He pulled back, removing his gloves one by one, throwing them in front of you on the top of the hood. 

Placing his hands on your hips, he moved his thigh close behind you as he kicked your feet apart. 

“Gator, come on. I don't have time for this tonight.” 

He didn't say anything, instead lifting his hands higher on your body. Resting on your breasts, squeezing slightly, as your breath hitched. 

He smirked to himself. Slowly dropping his hands down your body. Across your stomach. Down your hips. Traveling the expanse of your thighs to the bottom of your skirt. He paused, pinky grazing the bare skin there that sent goosebumps across your flesh. 

He dropped past your skirt. Drawing a hand up your inner thigh as you shuddered. 

Up, up, up slowly. 

His finger grazed the now sopping fabric. You bit back a moan, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as he pressed slightly into your folds, pushing harder when he reached your clit. 

“Haven't even fuckin’ touched you and you're soaked. Fuck” he hissed as he moved back up to your hips, quickly turning you easily to face him. 

Your hands landing on his chest to keep you steady. He pinched your chin between his thumb and fingers to force you to look up at him. 

“Get on your knees.” he ordered. 

You easily complied. Hands sliding down his body for purchase as you slid. Your knees hit the asphalt. Wincing as its harsh terrain dug into your knees. 

“Good girl.” the words going straight to your core. 

As always a glutton for punishment and adoring any praise he would send your way. 

Your mouth was salivating at the thought of tasting him. Without being told you popped the button on his pants, slowly sliding the zipper down.

“Fuck, look at you. Can't wait to get my cock in your mouth, huh? Been thinking about it all day?” 

He could be a mouthy bastard but God was he right. 

You licked your lips at the already prominent tent in his boxers. Pants falling just below his bulge that you palmed. He hissed, throwing his head back at the sudden contact.

Your fingers grazed the band of his underwear pulling it just a bit, just to let it go as it snapped back into place. His head turned back down to you. Eyes blown full of lust, irises no longer on display. 

“Go on. It's not gonna suck itself.” He nodded, urging you to keep going. 

Your hands pull down his boxers, exposing him fully to you. Cock springing free, teasingly so. The size of him never ceased to amaze you. He easily was the biggest you'd ever had the pleasure of handling and the cocky bastard knows it. 

Long and thick. Tip flushed the prettiest shade of pink with a small bead of precum just beginning to spill from his slit. 

You timidly placed your hand around the base as if you hadn't done it dozens of times before. He was hot and heavy in your palm. 

“Mmmmmm…. Fuck.” He sounded as if he was ready to combust on the spot. 

Wasting no time, you licked a long stripe up the entire underside of his shaft from base to tip as you heard him let out a low moan. He braced himself, placing his hands where yours had been planted moments before on the side of your car. 

You wrapped your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue just the way he liked, eliciting a whine from him. 

“Good fucking girl.” He groaned. “Been thinking about this mouth and throat all fucking day.”

You continued teasing the tip letting your hand pump his neglected shaft. You finally sank down, tip nudging the back of your throat. 

“Mmmmmm… Goddamn.” 

You pulled off of him with a loud pop. 

“Better not let your daddy hear that Gator.” You smirked to yourself. “Taking the Lord's name in vain. Especially while your dick is getting sucked.” You tsked. 

He weaved his fingers through your hair and gripped the back of your head, forcing you back to look at him. You winced at the sudden sting. 

“Still fucking sassing me? My cock not enough to shut you up?” He gave you no time to respond. 

“Open.” 

You obediently obliged, sticking your tongue out and flattening it to accommodate him, letting your eyes fall shut. 

Instead of his cock, spit hits the back of your throat. A look of shock passes your features as you look up at him under hooded eyes before a shy smile adorns your face. 

“Fucking whore. Swallow.” He practically growled. 

You close your lips and obey, a low hum of satisfaction escaping you as you swallow thickly. 

Watching your little display intently, he pumped his length a few times with his free hand, before gripping the base tapping your already swollen lips. 

Your lips part as his tip beaches the heat of your awaiting mouth. He quickly feeds you as much of his cock that you can manage. 

He doesn't give you time to adjust as he plunges deep, hitting the back of your throat. You try to breathe through your nose, letting him use you as he pleases. 

He steadies the hold on your head as he licks his lips. 

“That's it. Good fucking girl. Take it. I know you can.” 

You allow him to fuck your throat. You knew it would be sore in the morning from the relentless punches over and over. 

Your eyes were watering from the abuse, mascara running down your cheeks. You can feel saliva running down your chin.

You knew how you must look but he was looking down at you as if you were the most beautiful site he's ever seen. 

You timidly moved your hand up, reaching the edge of his boxers forcing them down even further. You wrapped your hand around his velvety sack weight heavy in your palm before tugging slightly. 

“Oh fuck.” His hips snapped, bucking into you even further as you gagged around his cock. 

He stopped suddenly, sliding his length from you. String of saliva momentarily connecting from your lips to his tip. 

“Get up and get in the back of the truck.” 

“But…” you were going to argue but the look in his eye told you he was done playing. 

“Now.” 

You quickly shuffled to your feet as he half covered himself to follow behind you. 

He knew this late at night, there wasn't any chance of someone coming by spotting the two of you in such compromising positions but just to be on the safe side he reached into your car to kill the ignition.

He did the same with his. Bright blues fading into darkness. Undoing and removing his holster placing it in the front seat, so it wouldn't get in the way for what he intended to do next. 

You opened the back door and slid yourself up into the cab. Legs dangling in the open doorway awaiting his next instruction. 

He came into view, slowly slotting himself in-between your thighs. Your skirt riding up to expose more of yourself. The way your damp panties were sticking to your folds, suddenly made you grateful for the dim light. 

His hands came to rest on the top of your thighs, squeezing. Thumbs rubbing soothingly in contrast to the way he looked like he wanted to devour you. 

“Lay back and take those panties off f’me.”

You rucked your skirt up higher above your hips putting your clothed core on full display for him. They were his favorite. Pink and lacy with a little white bow on the top, just like a little present all for him. 

He palmed himself, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he sucked in a sharp breath. 

There were no formalities when seeing him like this. It was hot and needy. Quick and dirty. 

You raised your hips, sliding your underwear down your thighs. When you made it past your knees, he slid them the rest of the way. Fingertips grazing your skin on the way down. You didn't miss the way he tucked them away for safekeeping in his pocket. 

You parted your legs as far as they would go with the limited space. 

“Look at you. Who's got you like this huh? Some trash at the bar make you this wet?” 

You shook your head. “No baby, it's you. Always you.” 

You place your fingers through his belt loops, dragging him a little closer.

“Greedy little whore tonight.” He laughs out, grinning at your eagerness. “Pull your shirt up and take those tits out.”

You do as you're told, pulling it up far enough to put your matching bra on display. 

“You wear this hoping someone would see? Huh? Such a fuckin' little whore.”

He can see your already pert nipples through the transparent fabric. He cups both breasts before pulling the fabric down fully exposing you. Not wanting to take the time to properly undress you, latching his mouth to one laving his hot tongue across your bud before taking it between his teeth biting down slightly as you moan and arch into him. 

His hand gave attention to the other, his large palm nearly covering the entirety of you before switching to do the same, so neither were neglected.  

“Fuck, these tits are so perfect. And all mine.” 

He nipped the skin, slowly moving down your sternum with hot opened mouth kisses as he finally sat back up. The cool air hitting the moisture left behind sending a small shiver through you. 

His fingers began to trail the inside of your thigh, inching closer to the spot you yearn for him the most. A whine escapes you as he watches you squirm beneath him. 

He runs his finger up your slit, lips slightly parting as he grazes your bundle of nerves that has your hips bucking on their own accord. 

He slips a finger into your entrance with ease at how soaked you are. 

“Of fuck,” your head lolls to the side. 

“Jesus, this pussy always this needy?” 

You just nodded as he removed his finger, making you whine, bringing it to his parted lips, sucking with an obnoxious slurp. 

“Jesus, you always taste so fucking sweet.”

Growing impatient, you watch as he finally takes his aching cock back out from its confinements. Now an angry shade of red dons the tip, leaking another pearly bead from his slit. He was even harder than before if that was even possible. 

He runs his tip through your folds, catching your clit. That had your back arching, gasping into the sensation. 

“Yeah, that's it.”

He lined himself up with your entrance, breaching slightly. Nothing ever prepared you for the size, always a stretch no matter how many times he had fucked you. 

It was something he relished in each time you were together. Knowing that no one else could fill you up like he could.

He pushed in. Slowly, inch by inch. Your mouth falling open. Toes curling in your shoes. 

Once he reached the hilt, he quickly pulled out and snapped his hips back into yours. Punching the air from your lungs eliciting a moan so loud you were sure someone the next county over could hear. 

“God you're so tight. I missed this pussy.” His face tightened with pleasure, mouth falling slack at the feeling of your walls practically strangling his cock. 

There was no preamble as he sets a near brutal pace, fingers tight around your hips holding you in place sure to leave bruises in their wake. Punching little uh, uh, uhs from you with each upward thrust. 

“That's it. That's fucking it. Who's pussy is this huh?” He growled down at you. 

Too dazed to realize he had asked you a question, already cock drunk, he stopped mid thrust grabbing your jaw forcing you to look up at him, applying so much pressure your lips formed a small pout. 

“I asked you a fucking question. Who's pussy is this?” He loosened his grip so you could answer as he began to piston his hips once more. 

“Yours. It's…mmmm… fuck, all yours Gator.” you managed to squeak out as he placed his thumb on your clit, rubbing lazy circles into the bundle of nerves. 

He moved his other hand, tightening it around your throat, pinning you there as your own hands grasped his wrist and forearm. 

He pounded into your sopping cunt. Eyes trained to where the two of you connected, watching as his fat cock moves in and out. Enamored with the way you took him so well.

His hard length ramming into that spot within you that only he could ever seem to find, over and over, as his assault on your clit never ceased.

He knew that look, your eyes closing in anticipation of tipping over the edge. 

“Yeah? That it sweet thing? You gonna cum all over my dick?” 

“Ahhhh,” is all you could respond. He loosened the grip on your throat slightly. He wanted to hear the noises he could pull from you. 

“Come on, my little badge bunny, cum f’me. I want to feel her grip me.” 

He removed his hand entirely, bending down close to your ear, breath hot on your neck. He braced himself trying not to completely crush you beneath him. 

“Be a good girl and cum. I'll give her what she really wants. Fill her up nice so everyone knows who this pussy belongs to. Make your belly all full and round. Everyone in this fuckin' town’ll know who you belong to. You want that? I know you do.” 

His mouth was good for one thing and the filthy words falling from his lips was all it took. 

Your orgasm hit hard, the sparks behind your eyes were blinding. You didn't have time to warn him as your pussy clamped down pulsing around him, trying to milk him. 

You found purchase gripping his shoulders, screaming his name as you came. Just the way he likes. 

He stopped toying with your clit to chase his own release. He wasn't far behind you, his thrusts becoming erratic. 

He spilled into you with a loud groan and a string of words, coming out so fast you barely understood, “fuck iloveyou ilovethispussy gonnafuckin’knockyouup fuck fuck fuck.” 

He continued a few more thrusts into your already overstimulated pussy before finally stilling. 

He practically collapses on top of you. Face planted in between your neck and shoulder, he stays like for a few moments until he's breathing normally again. 

He raised up, looking for any signs of distress from you. 

“Sorry, you ok?” A sweeter tone to his voice, as he kissed your cheek. 

“M’fine. You okay baby? Roy being a dick today?” You cooed, hand to his cheek, thumb rubbing soothingly there. 

He saved these late night rendezvous for days he had a particularly hard day at work. 

His usually slick backed hair was falling into his face, as he nodded. “Yeah, but I'm better now. Ready to get home?” 

“Ready when you are, big boy.” You smiled deeply at him as his lips met yours.

It was a slow, needy kiss. His slightly chapped, wind bitten lips melted into yours as you pulled him closer. The tenderness a stark contrast to the way he fucked you moments before. 

He pulled back, landing one more peck before raising up and letting himself slip from you. You winced, already missing the way he filled you. 

He helped you into your panties muttering “don't want any of that going anywhere.” As you rolled your eyes. Thank God for birth control. 

He took your hand and helped you from the truck, kissing your temple.  

“See ya’ at home sweet thing.” Smacking your ass as you walked ahead of him to your car. 

Yeah, Gator may have been a lot of things. A jerk, asshole, sometimes misogynist (which he was working on, thanks to you) but he only had eyes for you. His sweet girl. 

And you were right about one thing. If anyone else dared to look at you the wrong way he'd kill’m. God help the poor soul who got on the wrong side of your man on a bad day.