#but we all want him to be better. and we have the hindsight of knowing post-flashpoint he snapped suddenly to being a good guy

[gingerlee-holds]

I would love another part of the letting of steam fic! :3

OH MY GOSH ITS MY FIRST REQUEST BATTLE STATIONS EVERYONE- thankyouthankyou so much for the request i love requests and i love you <3

Ler!Alastor and Lees!Charlie and Vaggie

A Rampage

Read the previous one here!

Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: Feet twords, barely any editing, and its sorta short

Alastor’s shadowy form snuck from hallway to hallway. To him, the game was no longer hide-and-seek but cat-and-mouse. He played with his food, tripping up the other residents, cackling distantly, and occasionally flickering the lights. He had decided to leave Lucifer in his little tickle trap until the game ended, but he was hungry for more. He had no idea that tickling could be so exhilarating! It was the perfect way to get energy out and feed his sadistic tendencies, all while not harming anyone! What could be better than that?

The radio demon’s subsequent targets were two floors below. The princess of hell lay under the bed of an empty room while the fallen angel was hidden in the closet. 

Charlie whispered to Vaggie, practically vibrating with excitement. “I can’t believe it! We’re all playing a game together! This is the first time everyone’s participated in an activity since Dad moved in. Can you believe it, Vaggie? I can’t believe it!”

“You said that already.” Vaggie’s hair stood on end. If Charlie hadn’t spoken first, she would have immediately denied Alastor’s request to be the hunter. If there’s anyone you wouldn’t want stalking people down, even in a nonviolent way, it’s the radio demon. Vaggie would never admit to anyone, much less herself, that she was afraid of Alastor and, more importantly, what he was capable of. Her hand rested on the shaft of her spear warily.

Charlie, by contrast, was far less afraid of Alastor than she should have been. The bedframe kept her from moving too much, but if she could, she would flap her hands and kick her feet. Her pride had been wounded by the death of one of her hotel residents just a week prior, and the fact that everyone was participating in this group activity gave her hope that maybe the future of the Hazbin Hotel was bright. 

“I can feel it, Vaggie! The group bonding exercises are paying off, and soon, this place will be absolutely crowded with sinners, all on the path to redemption!”

“Wacky nonsense, as Alastor puts it,” Vaggie whispered back, bringing the subject back to their problem. “We still don’t have a clue what happened in that fight he had with Adam. He had angelic weapons and the element of surprise, but he didn’t die. We don’t even know if Alastor confronted him at all. What if he just tucked tail and ran, leaving us to deal with Adam?” Suddenly, a hand clamped over her mouth, which felt cold and dark.

“Shhhhh~!” The quiet voice of the radio demon hushed. Vaggie held up her weapon, but before she could use it, she felt dark tendrils wrap around her arms, binding her hands to the shaft of her spear. The fallen angel yelled out curses into the palm over her mouth and struggled in Alastor’s grasp, but the radio demon simply pulled her up straight and hung her spear on a coat rack, leaving her suspended snugly and muted. “Now, watch the fun~!” 

Her eyes widened in horror as she looked through the slats in the closet door at her girlfriend under the bed. She couldn’t warn her!

Charlie sighed, oblivious as the silent fight in the closet continued. “Don’t be like that, Vaggie. I’m sure he did his best. Honestly, in hindsight, it was silly to entrust him with such a big responsibility. All of that’s in the past, though! And besides, Alastor’s never tried to harm us.” She waited for a minute for Vaggie’s response, and not hearing one, she whispered again, louder, “Vaggie?”

After still no response, she began to get a little nervous. She slowly crawled out from under the bed and approached the closet, knocking quietly. Vaggie’s muffled shouts were completely silenced. Charlie laid a hand on the doorknob but was suddenly yanked backward by her legs, sending her to the floor in a heap. She yelped in shock and looked behind her, seeing a shadowy face grin from the darkness under the bed, dark hands reaching out for her. “W-what??” She kicked at the arms, but they swiftly wrapped around her ankles and tugged her toward the bed. 

She was about to protest more. But she suddenly recognized the magic, and she began to laugh. “Alahastor! Hohow did you find me? My hihiding spot wahas so good!”

The radio demon’s voice seemed to come both from under the bed and from the closet: “Hence why I caught you the moment you stepped out from your hiding spot, princess!”

“Okahay, okahay! We were at least the last ones found, right?”

“Nope! I found you second. His Highness wasn’t even trying,” Alastor answered the question before Charlie could ask it. 

“Ugh, fihine. Lemme go, and you can continue hunting!”

“Hmmmmm… no deal!” Alastor’s staff, resting against a dresser, let out a laugh track, seemingly at his command. “I’m not just going to let you go, darling!”

“What? What do you mean?” Charlie asked, a bit of a quiver in her voice. Suddenly, two more hands extended from the darkness, with shadowy fingers wiggling in her direction. ‘No. No, no, he wouldn’t. There’s no way-!’ Charlie felt her face heat up, and her squirming increased in intensity. 

“Tell me, my charming demon belle, are you ticklish~?” Alastor’s voice got staticky when he said the word as he dragged it out playfully. Nervous giggles began bubbling from her lips as she remembered all the times she had been tickled as a child by her mother. Alastor should know very well how ticklish she is since Vaggie loved to sprinkle tickles into their daily routine. The fallen angel loved to unravel the usually anxious princess and let her happy squeals out, and everyone in the hotel knew that Charlie was an absolute fiend for tickles.

“A-Al, come on, let gohoHoho!” The hands reached forward and scribbled on the underside of her socks, making the princess melt into giggles. She rolled over onto her stomach and looked as the closet door slowly creaked open, showing Alastor leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest, smiling impossibly wide. Beside him, Vaggie dangled by the arms, eyes wide and filled with mirth as Alastor’s tendrils squeezed her hips. The sight was utterly precious - Charlie didn’t even know her girlfriend was ticklish! And evidently, Vaggie’s body went limp when she was tickled. She wished she could hear her laugh, but it was completely muffled. Nevertheless, Charlie could coo about the adorableness after they were freed from the deer demon’s clutches.

The radio demon waved to the princess, and Charlie’s ankles were tugged harder. She tried kicking to no avail as she was slowly dragged under the bed, clawing at the floor and squealing for mercy from Alastor and help from Vaggie; neither came. 

When her lower body was entirely under the bed, Alastor got to work. With two hands on each foot, one for the sole and one for the toes, playing ‘this little piggy,’ Charlie instantly dissolved into hysterics. The princess banged her fists against the floor and thrashed as much as she could as her death spot was tactfully exploited, her shrieks and squeals filling the room. 

Alastor came forward, bending down on a knee to ruffle Charlie’s hair. “I’m afraid, my dear, that your hotel is horribly infested! Didn’t your parents ever teach you to always check for monsters under the bed~?”

Charlie snorted, hugging herself to contain her laughter, but it was impossible. It just tickled so so much! And everyone in the room knew that she was enjoying every moment of it. The squeaks she made when her knees were squeezed were so cute that it almost made Alastor want to be merciful. Almost. 

“Well, darlings, I’m afraid I must leave now to find the others. I must say, Charlie, I hope we play hide-and-seek again! It’s so dreadfully fun… for everyone involved~!” 

Vaggie wanted to shriek out a ‘Don’t you dare leave us,’ but she could only make hiccupy laughs as she dangled limply. The feeling was utterly alien to her, but strangely, she didn’t mind it. She could see why Charlie loved being tickled so much. As Alastor faded from the room into the shadows again, leaving the two girls to face their tickles, Vaggie was at least grateful that Alastor didn’t muffle Charlie. She could listen to that precious laugh all day.

[bitimdrake]

I was wondering if you could also argue if the cold and uncaring Jason we see in the Lost Days could also be only a temporary side effect. iirc Jason goes on a whole speech about how if their positions were reversed Jason would have stopped at nothing to avenge Bruce. That doesn’t sound to me like someone who doesn’t have empathy or compassion, and it sounds to me like he still on some level cares about Bruce. He also doesn’t seem interested in killing him anymore, either. Idk if this is a valid interpretation but I personally think that if Jason was cold and lacked compassion because of the pit it could have worn off by the time UtRH starts and his actions from then on are due to trauma.

okay back around to the inbox.

First thing that I'll repeat just for the record (and anyone reading) is that what parts of Jason's behavior/personality change, if any, are due to the pit vs trauma is completely up for interpretation.

There are many valid interpretations there, and it's really just headcanon at that point. But, practically speaking, I think the difference doesn't truly matter. If the pit is influencing him, it doesn't have an off switch, it's not some second personality or sudden mood swing; it's just a new part of his personality. Whether the pit or trauma, it comes to the same.

That said, my vibe on whether it wore off at the end of Lost Days would actually be...largely the opposite?

Lacking empathy or compassion isn't the same as not caring about anything (and definitely isn't the same as not having strong emotions). I think Jason can absolutely be cold and compassionless, and still have intense feelings towards Bruce, including the pain of loving his dad.

But more than that, I would honestly argue that Lost Days Jason is the most empathetic [post-crisis] Jason gets after his resurrection, and it only goes down from there. imo his coldness and compassion or lack thereof are easiest seen in the way he interacts with the random background characters of the world, not how he interacts in his relationship with Bruce--the closest and more volatile relationship he has.

Like, Lost Days sees Jason not just killing traffickers, but also going out of his way to save the kids they imprisoned. It sees him stopping a terrorist attack in London just because he's there. More violently and with far less remorse than he would have as Robin, absolutely--but still going out of his way to do a good thing for others that he didn't have to do.

But even by the final issue, Jason is letting the Joker go because he realized he doesn't care about the world, not compared to his own catharsis. When we get to Under the Hood, he tells the gangs he takes over not to deal to kids...but that's pretty much it for putting any good into the world. Otherwise Jason is just killing people he deems bad enough, and profiting off the gang activity he allows to continue (including drugs, racketeering, prostitution, etc).

His final goal to confront Bruce is very personal and very emotional, but he really doesn't seem to care about any collateral damage along the way. (And in here is also when he beats up Tim for his own reasons.)

After that his characterization is very scattered [conclusions at the end] but--

(He provides some helpful information in Outsiders. He sort reaches out to Dick in Nightwing...but does so by framing Nightwing for murder, with zero pause shown over the people he bloodily kills along the way. He doesn't hurt Mia when he kidnaps her in Green Arrow, but he still, yknow, kidnaps her, and kills various henchmen and underlings along the way. He has a weird side adventure with Donna and Kyle in Countdown, where DC plays around with his being an ass but not an antagonist.

And then he ignites gang tensions so he can use the "kiddie gangs" to pick each other off. He sorta reaches out to Tim to work together, and then shoots at him when he refuses. He's perfectly calm when Tim breaks him out of jail and lets him into the cave, and then goes off the deep end, kills dozens of petty criminals, and tries to murder all three of his brothers.

He keeps killing and threatens to expose Dick and Damian's identities. He gets arrested again and this time breaks out by putting poison in the food that kills almost a hundred inmates at random, with zero way he could possibly have known who would die. He recruits a traumatized young victim of Professor Pig to essentially be his new sidekick, but also seems to kinda care for her in his own way.

It's a lot, and it's messy, and the writers really should have been more coherent. Certainly the Doylist explanation for the slip into worse behavior is a series of writers who preferred to use him as a villain.)

But trying to force it into some form of sense, my take is this:

Jason never stopped caring about the people he cared about before he died. He still loves Bruce. He still feels something positive, if more complicated, towards Dick. He still cares, in the abstract, about kids in general. He can form new connections, like Scarlett, if extremely rarely. But it's muted. He prioritizes his own desires over his loved ones' feelings or comfort or even safety. He doesn't flinch at hurting them anyway, if it gets what he wants.

And with the people outside that--the majority of the world--who are not personally important to him...he feels basically nothing. This is where his lack of compassion is most pronounced: the people he has no hesitation in hurting or killing, even if they're nothing but collateral damage to his ends.

And that gets worse the longer things go on. He cares more about the world at the beginning of Lost Days than he does at the end. He's already a bad guy in Under the Hood, but even then he still has some shreds more care for Gotham that he will in Battle for the Cowl or Batman and Robin.

He feels very strongly! He is, in fact, entirely motivated by his strong emotions, sometimes to the point of constructing a thin moral veneer around then to try to sway his old family. But that's separate, it turns out, from actually caring about others.

[solomon-tozer]

I wonder if Stanley ever blames Goodsir for what happens.

I wonder if he ever blames himself.

He, the more experienced surgeon, wouldn't intervene to operate on Silna's father. He watched as Goodsir did his best. Maybe he watched in a detached, clinical way that saw the actions alone and tallied up all the things Goodsir was doing wrong, or that he, Stanley, could do better. When the man died, that was just a fact, really. Inevitable, perhaps, given the time since he was shot and Goodsir's skill.

I wonder if some part of him looked back at that incident in a different light later on. If he'd helped to save the man, how much of this could have been avoided?

And if Goodsir was a better surgeon and saved Silna's father, would things have been different?

[b0xerdancer-writes]

Baring Teeth

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Summary: Azriel and reader are mates, after what has felt like a lifetime to them with how fast life has seemed to move Azriel finds himself wanting what his brothers have, his mate having been through hell and back is willing to give him whatever she can.

Warnings: Some smut scenes, death, violence, war, torture, blood, inappropriate language and jokes, this is entirely an 18+ work.

Word Count: 14,099

Notes: This was meant to be that Azriel baby fever fic from the get-go, but I got sidetracked, it gets there eventually. Lemme know if you would like to see a part 2!

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If you asked Azriel he was anything but a jealous male, if you asked his mate however she would tell you it was circumstantial at best.

It had been only a handful of years since my sisters had destroyed the cauldron and the king of Hybern but life seemed to want to fasten its pace. I couldn’t say I didn't blame it for wanting too either.  Being born between Nesta and Elain always had its challenges, my mother favored Nesta as the first born and both of my parents always doted on Elain for her sweet, caring, and gentle nature; I had always just been there neither parent cared what I did and that was amplified when Feyre was born. I used the opportunity to learn something unique for my family, how to wield a sword, to fight, to kill. I used the opportunity to learn from guards, sell swords, mercenaries, and what teachers were available to me. 

So when my family lost all of their money I announced I’d be working as a sellsword, Nesta had thrown a fit about it but at this point she threw a fit about everything. I had a small amount of gold stashed for myself so when my parents finally decided to marry me off I’d run and buy all the things I needed to start my career as a sellsword, or mercenary, or just whatever I ended up becoming; I’d announced I was going into town and slipped out the door with the bag of coins strapped to my waist. I had bought a few furs, a good quality sword that would get me through till I could buy a better one, some bags I was able to strap across my body, and some easy traveling clothes, and some small pieces of leather. I knew if I was going to be gone they would need some way to be able to get food; I split my coin down the middle and used half of what I had left to buy them food, the other half I’d save for travel expenses. 

I dropped the food off with my sisters and father, then slipped back out the door after a quick goodbye and made my way towards one of the nobles' nearest estates. One of my teachers had written to me when he found out about my family's misfortune and told me he was stationed there and would recommend me to the lord he worked for, all I had to do was show up. I Showed up like he said, not to the front door but to the side door, the servants quarters and there I was greeted by my teacher and some other for hire guards who all coaxed me in with pats on my back and one went to fetch the head of staffing. It was an easily acquired job with a recommendation from my teacher and the other guards that had greeted me at the door, an even easier job to perform with good pay; simple patrols and hunting shifts at 50 gold a day. 

While I was there the barracks became my home, the other sellswords and mercs became family and before I knew it I was going out with them on the days we were released and getting drinks and celebrating. I had a pretty good stash of gold saved up, kept it in a nice bag that my belt strapped through and kept it firmly against my hip, I would write to my sisters and send them 10 gold once a week to help keep them fed. If I sent more I knew Nesta or Elain would commandeer it and use it on useless things, they could at least stock up on a good amount of fillers like rice or barley with 10 gold.

 They never wrote back, it was probably a good thing in hindsight. Had any of them mentioned Feyre being taken by the fae I would have gone right after her, but there was no mention of it to me until I got a letter from Nesta one day saying they had been moved into a new estate and father’s fortune had been restored by some sheer dumb luck. I wrote back congratulating them but making them aware I had no intention of giving up my post; then the next letter came written by Nesta again it had said something was wrong with feyre, telling the story of what had actually happened while I was gone. It had told me that Feyre had been taken by some fae monster that then she had returned after that first letter had been sent to me but had to leave again to go after some male she loved, but that this time she called the same male she left for the first time a monster  and had appeared at the estates doorstep with three males on her heels and asked for us to hear them out. I didn’t bother writing back, Nesta had sent that letter the same day. If I took a horse I’d be at where they mentioned their estate was within two hours, so I stepped down from my post and was told if I ever needed it to come right on back to them; I set out towards my family's estate with a large fur on my back to battle the chill winds, when I arrived a staff member took the horse and showed me inside. 

Nesta was the first to greet me, pulling me in for a hug and telling me how proud she was that I made something of myself; she told me how tense the atmosphere had been since Feyre showed up with the males, that feyre was now a member of the fae and she had somehow been changed into one of them. I had nothing against the civil fae but we were close enough to the wall some strays would slip through and tear apart weaker humans,  I had helped the barracks crew take down some rogues that slipped past the wall on a few occasions; nothing big, nagas as I had been told were the most common ones we faced. 

Stepping into the room elain squealed and buried herself into my side and the fur I wore, I heard Feyre call out to me with hesitancy as her eyes raked over the small scars the littered my exposed skin from the fights in the woods or sparring accidents; I motioned her over and pulled her into a hug, fae or not she was still my family and still my baby sister. The fae behind her had introduced themselves and their positions, they seemed to have no qualm with me but with Nesta and Elain. One wrong comment sent Elain into tears while she profusely apologized to Feyre, the two had their moment but it didn’t set right with me; yes they were in the wrong for doing nothing while Feyre hunted almost daily for them and I was off working, but they very obviously realized they had fucked up and were in the wrong. It did not mean they got to insult my family and I made sure they knew that, one of the males the tallest with the biggest wings there that I would later come to know as Azriel, seemed amused with my wild and protective temper and applauded me for it. 

They later left with promise to come back soon, I busied myself with the guards and servants we had around the estate by leading patrols and hunting parties myself; I stayed out of most of their business so the next time I saw them  I had just returned from a hunting party, dragging a decent sized deer to the kitchen. The tall male found me there in the kitchen caught off guard when he found me there, sleeves rolled up and cloak tossed to the size with a butcher knife in my hand while dismembering the deer; he had introduced himself to me then, as Azriel, and offered to help. I tossed him the hide and asked him to bring it out back, string it up on the dry rack. He agreed, I’d get around to curing the skin of the hide after I finished drying and preparing the rest of the meat; when he returned I had already stored all the meat away and was by the sink basin washing the deers dark blood from off my hands, I looked up at him from the corner of my eye and watched as his breath hitched and he quickly excused himself from the room. 

Nesta was the one who collected me when the queens were on their way, a new member had joined us in the living room that I had not recognized but she introduced herself as Mor; I stood silently like a guard myself when the human guards joined us, silently judging them as my sister and ‘her mate’ as she had called him explained to the queens what they needed. The meeting was surprisingly quick, the queens leaving just as quickly as they had arrived. We ate dinner together like a family that night, Azriel made small talk with me about my skills and training; I had to admit to myself that I found it endearing no one else even my sisters cared or dared, I wasn’t sure which  it exactly was with them, to ask me about it.

They left the next morning, and life returned to normal once the servants themselves returned; Oftentimes I got incredulous looks for being in the back working on my pelts or  sparring with the dummy I had ordered set up when I returned to the estate, other times the children of the servants were more than ecstatic to ask me of tales I had experienced within the woods. I had ended up using that deer hide in my cloaks, something about it was sentimental to me, though I couldn’t quite place why. 

A few weeks later, my nerves were on end, like the times when the entire barracks would ride out together hunting a naga or other rogue beast and we weren’t quite sure where they were lurking. I didn’t bother changing out of my armor and cloak. I should’ve trusted my gut that night, as I was unable to find sleep easily and only able to fall asleep with my blade at my side and a dagger under my pillow. I awoke to screaming from down the hall, Elain’s scream, I burst out of my room blade in hand knocking a few of them off their feet as the door collided with them.

One thing that had been instilled into me over the time with my teachers was the fact the bigger you looked the more intimidating you could be, my piled furs and cloak were an extension of that teaching; a large black wolf pelt was my crowning piece on my shoulders the, the deer hanging over my shoulders under that like a shawl. 

The fae turned to look at me in the faint light and darkness of our home, needless to say the illusion I was aiming for had worked on them as I heard several yell, “Beast!”, in alarm at me. And beast I was, I had taken down and decapitated several of them before they finally apprehended me in my war path to get to Elain and Nesta, the latter I realized had been gagged and I saw blood on her face; ever the fighter she was I had seen one of them holding her nursing one of his hands over the other and had surmised she had bitten him, and taken a chunk from his hand. I’d have to applaud her eventually for that, it was genius thinking and she was always so much smarter than she let on. They doused us with some sort of potion or substance that swept Elain under immediately, Nesta fought off the sleep as much as she could but after a few seconds went under herself; I fought against them straining and struggling, teeth bared, fighting off the sleep that coaxed me at the edges of my mind till they had to use another dose to put me under.

I awoke to chaos. So much was happening. Azriel and Cassian were insanely injured but still trying to fight the bane in their systems to crawl to us. Feyre bawling. Two males and a female I didn’t recognize beside her. The male I had been introduced to as Rhysand was in pain himself. A large male in the center of the room. Two guards either side of Elain hauling her up. A large thing that didn't seem natural in the center of the room. Nesta had three guards around her. I had seven. The seven I realized were on edge around me, made uneasy by me. Made uneasy even though I was restrained in any way they could think of. I felt like a beast surveying its options of prey to hunt. 

The large male in the center, realizing all of us were finally awake, finally introduced himself as the King of Hybern, a name I recognized Azriel’s family talking about at the meeting. The King introduced the strange object as ‘The Cauldron’, Azriel had mentioned it was something akin to a god to them. Not natural indeed. He motioned for the guards to bring Elain forward as he explained his plan, the guards raised her over the large pot; she screamed and thrashed in their grip, red marks and bruises already appearing on her skin. I saw red. I shot forward, catching all the guards around me by surprise as they scrambled to get ahold of my restraints and chains; they stopped me just as Elain went under, my arms were pinned behind my back by a chain and I snarled, insults and threats falling from my mouth. I heard Nesta react similarly yet not as violently as I was, seemingly stunned by everything going on, or maybe it was just her cold mask refusing to let the King and our enemies see how much she was fazed.

The king simply let out a dark laugh. “The feral beast bares her teeth.” It was meant as a condescending remark.

They pulled Elain out of the cauldron and I jolted forward towards her again, catching the ones holding my chains off guard and several of them fell to the floor from the sudden jerk forward that caused them to lose their footing. One of the males at Feyre’s side mumbled something I didn’t catch thanks to the blood pounding in my ears, and my attention caught on him and the blondes beside him; he straightened eyes, or eye, wide and he stumbled back. I turned my attention back to the so-called ‘King’, promises of death dripping like venom from my teeth; I barely caught the fact Rhys or maybe it was Mor had pulled Elain to their side of the room. 

The King tilted his head at me, an amused smile on his face as he spoke to me. “You want to behave like a beast? So be it.” He turned his attention to the seven around me. “Get her in that cauldron I don’t care how.” 

A chorus of yes sirs surrounded me and the chains began to dig into my skin as they tried to pull me towards the over-sized cooking pot.  I had just started to lose my footing when a weak call came from my right, giving me just enough motivation to regain it.

“Fight them! You’ve taken down worse things than them! They are nothing compared to those Nagas in the woods! Come on! I believe in you! Show them those techniques you told me about!” Azriel had  braced himself on one elbow wincing against the fae bane in his system. 

I nodded and braced myself the best I could, the guards stood on the other side of the pot as me and I turned slightly as I let out a snarl like smile. They looked between each other in worry as I dug my boots into the ground and hauled ass the other direction, dragging one of them too close to the cauldron they tripped, losing control of the chain and fell in screaming himself. One of the others dropped a chain to the floor, giving me more breathing room, to help the screaming male out of the pot; he trashed on the floor ripping his armor off exposing his skin that had begun boiling and simply falling off.

The others tightened their grip on my chains but were distracted by the horror of the scene, the one that had helped him out screamed and began throwing up. I heard Nesta cheer behind me, and I turned my attention to what seemed like the now weakest guard holding my chains; I charged forward, the male screamed in horror as I caught him off guard and took a page out of Nestas book and sunk my teeth into his throat. Just as I was expecting the guards on the opposite side pulled violently and assisted me in pulling his throat out, I wasn’t going to go down easy, and by whatever gods did exist it was going to be violent and bloody. He grasped his hollowed throat and tried to scream as he collapsed and I spit the wad of torn flesh towards the King’s feet; I was down to four guards , but what I didn’t account for was the backwards motion created by the other 3 guards.

I had collided with the side of the cauldron and howled out in pain, the guards took the opportunity to haul me up; I tried thrashing but every time I moved pain shot through my body. Unable to struggle against the water as it pulled me in I snapped at the guard trying to push my head under’s hand, taking a few fingers with me as I finally submerged. 

It was dark for a moment, then I was in an open room able to stand on my feet and move without pain. I heard shuffling somewhere opposite me, the more I moved forward so did it; till I was face to face with a giant beast, black and golden brown, eyes that seemed to look into my soul, and grand antlers with flesh hanging from them. The sickening feeling like I was looking in a mirror sunk into my chest, when I moved the beast moved. 

Then it finally spoke, yet it didn’t at the same time. Something ancient I couldn't understand or speak. Yet intrinsically I knew what it was asking me. That if my true nature was like that of the beast itself, that I should just give in. That if I did I would bring all my enemies to their knees, take them all to their graves. It asked if I would accept that part of me, asked if I would accept its offer of power. I nodded, and it stepped forward lowering its head to my level. I stepped forward meeting it there in the middle of the never ending, ethereal space. It pressed its head against me, and then I was taking a large gasping breath as I felt my bones break and reforge, a blinding pain before I could see detail so much sharper then I had been able to, could hear everything as every sense in me heightened. I felt stronger, felt faster, like one of the beasts I hunted in the woods with my friends in the barracks. Then I felt the inky thickness of the Cauldrons water again, I could see my own hands and claws as I reached out and felt the cool metal; I felt the chains around me tighten again ever so slightly before they fell away as I began to haul myself from the black water. It sloshed and spilled over onto the floor as I emerged, blacker than the depths of the shadows that followed me through the woods in the late hours of the night.

I swallowed a breath as I hauled myself over the edge of the cauldron and finally collapsed on the floor; I used my hands to keep me from fully collapsing as I kneeled there and looked up at the King, a deadly promise in my eyes as I snarled a simple “Your head will be mine and I’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

My hair hung in my face, droplets of black water slowly fading to a normal color as I dried, and he smiled in amusement. “Once a beast always a beast.”

I took a breath and looked down at the puddle on the floor, my firs were still wrapped around me though sopping wet but it wasn’t my obviously messed up appearance that shocked me, but the eyes that looked back at me that did. Thin slits like the beast I had seen within those waters stared back, the color still my own but so much different. I heard Azriel call out for me in a strangled noise, I turned my attention sharply towards him to find him looking devastated; I wanted to comfort him, he was such a good male and I was in so much pain I was exhausted, I hauled myself shakily to my feet barely able to make it to him as I collapsed at his side. Nesta called out to me as my vision began to fade, and I saw Cassian lurch forward despite the threat to his life as he screamed for her. I lost my vision just ;as she was going under’ the simple threat to the king, so much calmer than  my own, made me smile before I passed out.

I had despised waking up in places I was unfamiliar with, I shot up with a growl before wincing and clutching my side. A small female attempted to calm me down to no avail, till I heard Azriel’s weak voice through the haze. 

“Hey Wildling, woah, woah, they are just trying to help. They’re our healers. You're in the Night Court, remember me telling you about this place?” He was on a cot in just his leather pants, a large white bandage around his waist, chest, over one shoulder, and around his massive wings.

I nodded and looked around slowly, all the fae were looking at me terrified and on edge, like they would run from the room at the slightest growl from me.

“Sorry, just caught by surprise.” I mumbled and looked down at the bandages around my own waist, they covered my chest and entire torso.

I didn’t really care about modesty, you live with men for long enough especially mercs and sellsword men that you stop caring, and they stop caring about your own body. Many times I hade changed into my uniform or hunting clothes in front of them while we were all getting ready for the day's assignments. I scanned over the bandages no blood leaked through but everytime I moved It hurt, everytime I took too deep a breath it hurt. 

“I’m sure from your experience you can gather what happened?” Azriel’s voice was soft, and a comfort. I wouldn’t admit it, yet anyways until I found out everything that was going on, but I had started to consider him a friend or maybe something even more; I mean those wings were fascinating and from the time we aparred in the back he had experience and when my knee had met his crotch in a low blow, after all who fought fair anymore, he was well endowed. 

“I’m one of you now, aren’t I? Elain and Nesta too, just like Feyre.” I quirked a brow at him and he nodded.

“And as for your injuries, what do you assume happened?” He quirked a brow right back at me, a test of my knowledge like we had done with sparring.

“Broken ribs? That pull back had to have enough force to break them, especially when I collided with the cauldron. Severe bruising and maybe even some large gashes? Those chains were tight enough there had to be at least major bruising.” I winced as I adjusted how I was seated.

He nodded with a smile. “Correct to an extent, good job wildling.” His wings flared as he adjusted himself, and I wanted to move forward and help him adjust slow enough he wouldn't hurt himself. 

He smiled when I extended my hand to stop him. “Hey im okay, i'm more worried about you right now, I’ve been shot down from the sky with fae bane arrows and survived it. I'll be fine. You however are the one I’m worried about, those chains were tugged back tight enough it had shattered your ribcage and  popped at least one of your lungs. Thankfully the fae healing kicked in for you fast enough to keep you alive.”

I nodded in stunned silence. “Just sore and it hurts to move i. Sone directions, I'm breathing fine now.” 

“Good! Madja, shes our lead healer here, was worried your healing wouldnt work fast enough since you were freshly made.” Azriel told me in a worried tone, but I could feel it in my chest, feel just how worried he was in my heart; could feel his emotions as well as my own.

I tilted my head in confusion and reached for where I felt him in my chest, my brows furrowed and he straightened.

“Are you okay?” He looked anxious like he was about to call for one of the nurses to help me.

“Im fine just confused? You told me all that information in a worried tone but I felt it here,” I motioned to my chest, “Like it was my own emotion.” 

Small gasps echoed across the room and the small nurses fled. Azriel rose from his bed slowly and came to sit at the edge of mine. 

“You feel it too then.” He spoke softly to me like he was calming a storm. “I wasnt going to mention it to you right away, both Nesta and Elain didn’t have the best reactions to suddenly having mates.”  

“Mates?” I tilted my head quizzically at him. “I’ve heard the word, though I’m not a hundred percent sure what that means or what is expected of me.” 

He placed his hand on mine. “Like Feyre and Rhys right?” I nodded. “The Mother, you remember her right? I mentioned she was another one of our ���gods’ as well.” I nodded again, listening intently. 

“Well,” he hummed trying to consider how to word something.”She blesses some fae with mates, or whats called ‘the mating bond’ its a soulbond between two people normally between two fae. Though admittedly both Rhys and I felt it with you and Feyre while you were still humans.”

I moved to squeeze his hand softly with my own. “So, our souls are intertwined with the others?”

He nodded. “That's one way to put it,while you didnt feel it snap till you were turned most likely, i felt it that day I walked into the kitchen to find you washing the blood off your arms and hands. You were just, how do I put it into words, Ethereally beautiful? Darkly enchanting? I don’t know how to word it but you get the picture. I felt the bond snap in my chest and I almost lost myself to the emotions when you looked up at me the way you did, like a flirtatious taunt.”

A blush crept up his face and I felt it creep up my own. I felt his adoration seep into my own chest again and I looked up at him in pure adoration back. “How do you do that?” 

“Do what?” He smiled.

“Make me feel what you’re feeling?” I furrowed my brows for a second as I tried to send my emotions to him, to show him how I’ve felt about him for a while now without realizing it.

He moved his hand to his own chest, and tears welled in his eyes. “I didn’t even have to explain it to you, see? You’ve already picked it up. All the love you're pushing through to me. Good Job wildling.”

I smiled but then frowned. “I get the physical connection of it now but what is expected of me?”

He smiled and caressed my face gently, thumb running over my cheek bone. “As of right now? Nothing. But if you decide you want to accept it or reject it, then we will have more to discuss.” 

I nodded and went to open my mouth but he interrupted me first. “I don’t want you to make a decision right now. Think on it for awhile, process all the changes to your life first okay wildling?” 

He smiled sadly and I nodded. I could feel his sadness through the bond though I could tell he wasn't trying to make me feel it, I just could, probably easier than most I assumed since every other sense of mine was heightened. A soft knock rasped against the door and my attention shot to it, Azriel called for whoever it was to come in. Rhys had pushed his head in followed by his entire body.

He nodded at the two of us. “I see you’re both doing well, I owe the both of you an explanation and update on everything.”

So we sat, we sat and listened as Rhys gave us the rundown. How and why Feyre was in the spring court, how she was our inside girl, how eventually she would return. Explained to us Cassian was still out, having experienced a higher dose of fae bane than Azriel, but while he was healing slowly he was still healing and would be okay. Then he finally turned his attention solely on me and gave me a rundown on Nesta and Elain’s health. I must have pushed my grief down the bond to Azriel before the tears had even reached my eyes, because he was already comforting me when the dam burst. Rhys stood silent in front of us, before he congratulated us on our bond and offered me any assistance I would need in adjusting or helping my sisters adjust to the massive change in our lives. Eventually he left ,after some small talk with Azriel, to check on Cassian.

Then it was just me and Azriel again, for the next few weeks it stayed just me and Azriel in our small medical room with check ins from Rhys and Madja. We eventually  got the clear and along with that cane the announcement Cassian was awake, we beelined it to his room; he was still on bed rest and would be for the next handful of days as they double checked everything had healed properly and assessed the damage. I was shown to my room right next door to Azriel’s, inside a neatly wrapped box in a blue bow sat on the foot of my bed.

“I asked Rhys to pick it up for me.” He smiled and sent a wave of adoration into my chest.

Opening the box I found a set of folded clothing black pants and a flowy comfy dark blue shirt. I sent a wave of appreciation his way and fingered the silky fabric. “Thank you Az, this is… probably the nicest set of clothing I’ve ever had.”

“Your welcome wildling.” He leaned down to press his forehead to my shoulder. His actions caught me by surprise and nearly had me crying, it was such a pure act of surrender and love; my breath caught in my throat and I had to swallow back sobs as I moved one hand to caress what I could reach for the male.

I had made up my mind then and there what my answer to the bond would be, if anyone could guide me and my ways through the sudden changes it was him. I stepped forward and he furrowed his brows but I turned and planted a kiss on his lips. He let out a mixture of a cry and a whimper when I pulled away, his eyes wide and watery; I turned back towards the clothes, not thinking about the implications as I stripped from my current ones and bandages but was stopped before I could step into the new ones laid out in front of me. 

Azriel’s breath caught in his throat as he ran a light touch across a lingering bruise on my skin, goosebumps shot up my skin in a wave of chills that caused me to flinch and wince. Azriel growled softly at the thought of me in pain, or at least that's the impression I got from his side of the bond. 

He wrapped himself around me, his hands finding purchase on my chest, causing me to swat at him with a light hearted hiss.

He grumbled back at me, rubbing his hand where I had smacked him in mock defeat. “You shouldn’t be so casual about stripping then. Especially  being as hurt as you are, the urge to just protect you and curl up around you is a bit overwhelming right now.”

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my clothes, finally stepping into the new ones. “This is nothing compared to what it used to be like in the barracks.”

“What do you mean?” It was slightly growled out, the tiniest wave of jealousy seeping from his soul to mine. 

Without thinking about what he meant or the new emotions in my chest I responded to him. “There were maybe 10-15 of us in the barracks total, I was the only female. Not necessarily common amongst sellswords, yet I kept up with all of them. You all become close like family; I'm sure you get how that feels, I mean you, Cass, and Rhys are like that. But after a point you all just change infront of each other and no one really looks or cares anymore, it just becomes natural, part of the routine in the morning.” 

I shrugged it off as I shrugged my shirt over my shoulders, still slightly sore when I stretched my arms above my head. Azriel growled but tried to stop himself, an attempt to remember I hadn’t accepted the bond yet so he had no reason to be feeling jealous and territorial. “Ah, I see, I get what you’re saying though I admit I am a bit envious that 10 or 15 males have seen you shirtless before I did.” 

I tried, I really did, to prevent the chuckle that fell from my lips. Azriel growled playfully in response. It was comfortable whatever we had, between all their meetings at the house and the now formed bond between us, I felt safe around him. Behind him neatly hung my cloak and furs, sparkling and pristine as the days I had cured them; yet somehow bigger, I understood with a simple what had happened: they had changed with me.

He caught where my eyes had fallen and smiled at me brightly. “Oh! Rhys said he would bring them to your room, I noticed they were different too. You went into the cauldron small yet ferocious enough you unsettled them, they couldn’t figure out how you were outsmarting them or how you had already killed so many of their comrades. But when you came out, they understood how and why. The cauldron however it forged your body anew, decided that for however ferocious and ambitious you were, you would need a bigger vessel to do it in.” 

I hadn’t realized it yet but I only stood a few inches shorter than Azriel did now, eye level with his chin and throat; when before I was much shorter, level to his chest at most. It was then that I caught my reflection in the mirror, my features had indeed sharpened or elongated in spots and I gave off a predatory air about myself without even trying; Azriel stood behind me as I took the sight in. While I knew he was no high lord, the way in which he carried himself said otherwise, in the mirror, I realized we looked like the Lord of shadow and the beast that lurked just within it. A display I noted, however beautiful it was just between us, would have horrified onlookers if it was meant to intimidate. A thought I found quite pleasing.

He rested his head on my shoulder and I let out a low purr in response to the imagery in the mirror. “So. Let's say if I were to accept this bond.” He perked up. “What would be expected or asked of me? What would the process of accepting it be?” 

His eyes met mine in the mirror, the smallest change in his scent had alerted me to what affect my questions had on him. A small enough change that if my senses hadn’t heightened more than even Azriel or Rhys’s that I wouldn’t have caught it. 

“If you were to accept it,” he crooned, “then my answer would stay the same, I expect nothing of you except to accept my love for you and for you to return it back to me. I have waited centuries to find my mate, and you are so new to the world of the fae I want you to be able to explore it but I also want to be a guiding hand for you to do so. As you know I’m Rhys’s spymaster. I may be gone on missions for up to a week at a time, if you wish I can train you even more and you can eventually join me on them.” His shadows swirled at my feet, I had learned to accept them as an extension of himself from the first time we met, where he went they followed. “Is that acceptable?”

I nodded, a warmth in my chest. “And how would consummating the bond work?” A low purr rumbled from my own chest that ended in his own.

“It's a real simple process, a simple ritual, only differing slightly from the human tradition of marriage. Same significance just without rings.” He placed a kiss on my neck before continuing. “One of us cooks for the other, and presents it to the other to eat. Normally it’s something simple, seeing as the hormones and instincts start to affect us from the first bite we normally can’t scarf a whole meal down. Feyre made Rhys soup. Once the food has been consumed, like I said instincts and hormones take us over, reverting us to nothing more than feral creatures intent on fucking our mates till we collapse. That phase normally takes about a week, then it's a phase of adjusting to life together, heightened emotions, territorial instincts, and being inseparable till the bond calms. That phase however differs between mates.” His eyes bore into me in the mirror, the gold flecks in his hazel eyes sparkled in a feral amusement at my reactions as he spoke.

“So all I’d have to do is cook you something?”I tilted my head giving him more access to my neck as he slowly dragged his lips across the open space, in slow tension filled kisses.

“It depends,” He smirked at me, his canine digging ever so slightly into my skin. “On if you had the intention of accepting the bond or not. You have to make and serve me the food with the intention of accepting the bond.”

I shuddered under him. “I take it Rhys has given you some time off from work, to recover and until Feyre updates us on the situation?” 

“Possibly.” He nipped at my neck trying to elicit the same shudder as earlier. “Why do you ask?”

I wanted to groan at him. “Maybe I was considering consummating it. But since you won’t give me a straight answer we will have to wait and see.” 

I offered him a smirk back only for it to die on my face quickly, between the heat in his eyes and the growl that rose from his chest.

“Wildling.” He warned, “Do not toy with me, if you have the intent to accept the bond, tell me here and now. If you intend to cook for me I will march you straight to the kitchen and barge into Rhys’s office right now to tell him I’ll be taking the week off entirely.” 

I swallowed a shaky breath at the pure power and intimidation he oozed when growling like that, his nose twitched and I assumed he picked up the shift in my scent. “So tell me wildling, do you intend to accept it?” 

I swallowed and nodded. “Yes, I do.” It was shaky and broken up as I tried to regain my composure.

“Good” That same growl again, had my knees weakening. “Then I’ll show you to the kitchen.”

And so he did, he led me through the winding halls of the house till we were in the large kitchen and he dismissed himself quickly with a kiss lingering on my forehead. I shuffled through the cabinets noting ingredients as I went, trying to figure out something I could make. Meat, I knew how to cook different meats, had hunted and cooked several different kinds of it, whatever I made him I decided I wanted to have meat in it. Beef I thought or some chicken, I jumped out of my boots when a bundle wrapped in brown butcher paper appeared on the counter in front of me; the house was sentient Azriel had told me but I didn’t think it meant like this. 

I unwrapped the bundle, white meat and from the looks of it chicken. Easy to cook, easy to pair with any ingredients I found lying around; my attention was drawn towards a fruit bowl, a lemon topping the pile of fruits. How amusing I thought, for the fae to have fruits from the human lands; only when I had pulled a knife from the wooden block and had split the lemon in half did I realize it wasn’t just a lemon, the taste and smell of it were both much sweeter and stronger yet still held a sour note. I found the spice cabinet and went through it, pulling everything I wanted out; a lemon pepper chicken I decided, simple yet enough to keep his energy up.

I had a tendency to keep my guard up unless I was in a place I ultimately felt safe and with Azriel just down the hall I felt safe enough to lose myself in cooking, it was something I had learned I had enjoyed when I was working in the barracks; I’d hunt down whatever tomorrow’s dinner would be then help the chefs prepare it for storage, then take the hides to be cured and turned into blankets for the barracks or depending on the quality of the pelt. Then when I returned to the kitchen the chef would have the night's dinner out and ready to begin preparing. The chef there was an older gentleman with blonde hair that had turned mostly white by the time I met him; he walked me through everything he did, explaining why and answering any questions he had. However, due to my love for the craft I found it easy to lose focus of the world around me and let my guard down; which was fine, until it wasn’t.

I had been so distracted pan searing the chicken that even with my heightened hearing I had not heard Azriel’s approaching footsteps, he leaned against the archway the led into the kitchen from the dining room silently as I hummed and began plating the chicken; I had been cutting  the lemon into a smaller sections to drizzle it over the chicken, knife in hand I turned around to drizzle it on the plate when I heard the smallest of noises from the male. I jumped and spun towards the noise, the knife in my hand thunked into the wall an inch from where Azriel had just been leaning his head as I threw it. 

His eyes widened as he jumped away from the wall. “Mother, save me, efficiently deadly even when off guard.” 

I clasped at my chest as I panted loudly trying to catch my breath after being startled. “Fuck me! Azriel! Warn a lady!” 

He mumbled  “I'm trying.” Before actually apologizing for scaring me. 

He slid his way onto a barstool and I pushed the plate towards him, he looked between the plate and me before he cut a small piece of the chicken off. He stared at the small piece of chicken and then looked back up to me, with a small nod from me he swallowed the small piece and I could see all the emotions cross his face as he began to scarf down the rest of the small piece. His wings flared ever so slightly as he bit into the last piece on his plate and I rounded the small island, pressing myself between his massive wings, a gesture to sooth him as I felt the cooling air he normally gave off grow in temperature and sweat began to form on his brow line. Then he had finally swallowed the last piece and chugged the small glass of water I had set out to accompany his meal, I had ran my hands over his shoulders and wrapped them loosely around his neck; His hand reached up and grabbed mine before he was pulling me off him and spinning around, capturing me in a tight hug as he pressed his lips to mine. With a growl he was pulling me down the maze of halls and then we had finally reached the set of familiar large grand doors with swirls and lines that reminded me of his shadows carved into them, the small royal blue rug he used as a welcome mat slid under our feet as he pulled me into another kiss while pressing me against the door. 

He had managed to pull away enough to fumble with the door knob and finally open the door, his room greeted me with the gorgeous ash colored wooden decor accented in that same blue that matched his siphons. I took a few steps inside, he followed right behind, his shadows closing the door behind us with a click; he wrapped himself around me and his lips found purchase on my neck. I could feel everything coursing through him down the bond, my own emotions, hormones, and instincts beginning to scream louder and louder over any clear thoughts I was having. His scarred hands ,that I had found as a beautiful testament to all he had been through, ran under the soft material of the blue shirt and left goosebumps in its path.  

He slipped the shirt off over my head and spun me to face him as he dropped to his knees, pressing several open mouthed kisses to the spattering of scars that adorned my skin. The last coherent thought I had before I lost myself to the haze of the bond was that one day I would kiss over every scar that littered his own skin like he had done with mine, I’d do it as an act of devotion when he thought he wasn’t deserving of anything good in his life. 

He pushed me towards his bed, bedecked in blue silk sheets, till I finally fell back on it and he was right there at the foot of it slipping my boots off. He threw them somewhere across the room and then turned back to me with lust blown eyes, I ran my hand across his jaw line and leaned down to press a kiss against his lips; he replied with a soft moan and as he pulled away he began slipping the pants down my legs, ripping the only covering left on my body like the feral beast he currently was. His fingertips dug into the skin of my thighs as he held them apart, licking his lips with a smirk as he lapped from me like a stray hound. I can’t remember how long we were there but he repeatedly brought me crashing down over the edge on his tongue and fingers, the haze cleared ever so slightly as he threw me further up his bed and settled himself between my hips; my legs wrapped around his hips as he nipped at my neck and throat, a moan fell from my lips as he came to rest the head of his cock against my opening. 

My mouth fell open as he sheathed himself inside me, capturing my lips in his as the moan I screamed echoed off the walls of his room. My legs tightened around his hips holding him close to me as I adjusted to his size, I wasn’t a lady by any means, I had fooled around with the males in the barracks occasionally when tensions were running high after some stressful patrol or hunt but they were all nothing in comparison to the sheer mix of Azriel’s girth and length. While with my newfound growth spurt the stretch didn’t particularly hurt it was still an adjustment, my mind wandered to those nights my mind had drifted to imagining him between my legs instead of my own hand. Azriel’s name was like a prayer falling from my lips as he slammed himself into me, our moans and pants mixing together as we called out each other's names. We were there, slotted together for what felt like ages until his hips stuttered and his wings flared, finally coming undone inside of me after he had brought me repeatedly to the edge and past it.   

As he finally released inside of me, I felt the bond in our chest sing as it solidified and could then feel every ounce of pleasure he had received, if the growl that escaped his throat was any indication of him being able to feel my own, the pride he sent my way was. He finally pulled himself away from me and moved to stand, placing a kiss to my lips that I returned eagerly as he stepped into the attached bathroom. Exhaustion slowly started to come over me as I awaited the male, he returned to me and I couldn't help myself but to pull him back on top of me with another heated kiss.

He let out a mix of a growl and a laugh. “Look if we keep going down this track the bath I just drew for us will be cold by the time we are actually able to return to it.” 

I sighed and relented, letting him carry me to the bathroom where with his help we both sunk into the warm clear water. He held me against his chest and began to run his fingers through my hair as he hummed a soft melody, I started to drift off with my head on his shoulder and he happily let me. He woke me when the water started to get cold, stepping out before me he wrapped a towel around his waist then helping me out and wrapping my own towel around me. My legs were still semi-shaky so he happily elected to carry me back to the bed, dropping both towels at the foot of the bed; he pulled back the sheets letting me crawl under them he followed behind me, pulling  me to his chest we managed to get a few hours of sleep before he was slotting himself back between my legs and my hands found purchase at the spot where the membrane of his wings met his skin. The moan that left his mouth as he shuddered above me would never leave my thoughts, neither would the sensitivity of his wings.

It took us about two weeks before we were able to leave the confines of his room, finally going back to training was a relief especially after we had moved my belongings into his room earlier that morning. However Azriel was still overly territorial of me so Cassian found himself pouting as he sparred with Rhys. We had kept that routine until Azriel’s territorial behavior had lessened as long as I was within eyesight, Rhys was finally able to teach me how to control my mental shield and prevent daemati attacks. I had become a natural quickly between training with Rhys and sparring with Azriel as he furthered my teachings on fighting, we were in the middle of sparring when Rhys announced the boys would need to fetch Feyre and the friend that was accompanying her out of Spring Court. I had kissed Azriel goodbye and wished him well as he and Cassian took to the sky, I had decided to take the opportunity to fully explore the house; I had either been too entertained in Azriel, injured, or busy to fully explore it earlier.  

I pushed a semi-large door open to be greeted with isles of bookshelves, a hearth that wasn’t lit, a long table with many chairs, and a few small loveseats in front of the hearth with a small coffee table and rug. Inside sat Nesta, who scowled at me, a handful of books whose genre matched what she and Elain enjoyed reading; I had no doubt she was reading them to Elain, Rhys had kept me updated on my sister's conditions. 

“Sister…” A half-hearted acknowledgement as she turned back to the isles picking another book out.

“Nes! You look good! You could eat a bit more but-”I happily circled her taking her in before she cut me off.

“You look like you’ve adjusted to this life well.” It was a bitter acknowledgement that I did indeed look and act better than both her and Elain did right now.

 “Well, Yes I have, Azriel has been a great help with everything-” She started towards the exit and I followed behind her.

“Well, you were always the wild one, I suppose it's fitting for the beast to feel at home amongst them.” I stopped in my tracks and she pushed her way out of the library. 

“Nes..” I reached out for her but the door shut without her even looking back.

I tried to block my emotions from flooding Azriel while he was on the mission, simply sighing and turning back to the shelves around me; I plucked a random book from a shelf and made my way back to Azriel and I’s room, our room. The comforting shadows carved into his door were a happy sight as I oh so elegantly threw myself onto the black loveseat he had moved from my room into here, grabbing a fur blanket I made myself at home on the small couch with my book and some tea graciously provided to me by the house. Maybe once Feyre was back it would knock some sense into Nesta and Elain, I could hope at least.

I felt a calling from the bond an hour later, Azriel had made it back with Cassian, Feyre, and that red-headed male that had stepped towards Elain.  I bounded up the stairs, racing through the halls and then finally slid into the living room. Feyre was wrapped in Rhys’s arms and I threw myself into Azriel’s welcoming him back with a kiss, Feyre whipped her head around to  look at us; Rhys hadn’t told her we had accepted the bond yet, so when she found out she happily congratulated us. I pulled her into a crushing hug, which she tapped out of just as Rhys had called a meeting that had the entire inner circle making their way into the sitting room with us. 

Mor happily smiled and waved at me, she had watched me spar with Az and train with Rhys and when the boys just needed to absolutely deck each other she would lead me up one balcony to where  her and Amren set up a small little tanning spot. Amren, while Azriel had described her as this terrifying creature based on the energy she gave off, had only ever seemed as an equal to me. I had never felt that overwhelming power like the boys had described to me, she gave me a small smile and sat on the other side of me.  While tucked into Azriel’s side with Amren’s foot touching my own in a comfortable silence, Nesta and Elain finally entered the room. It was a long night but eventually after a heated argument between my sisters everyone was dismissed, my sisters being allowed to keep to their own devices. 

Azriel was sparring with Cassian and I had found myself holed up in Amren’s apartment with her doing puzzles when we had gotten an emergency call from Rhys. Amren and I both sped out of her apartment and we were off towards the mountain house, Azriel and Cassian picking us up and bringing us up the stairs to save us some time. We had been informed of the break in to the library, Amren and I were both on edge this understanding between us, when one was on edge then the other was too. Rhysand had asked her to comb through the rest of Velaris that night to see if any other uninvited guests were hidden amongst us, Amren invited me with her and I happily agreed. Azriel covered me with my furs and cloak and kissed my forehead as I set off to join Amren in this makeshift hunt. 

It seemed like a back to back eventful week, I had crawled back into bed beside Azriel extremely late at night or extremely early in the morning depending on how you looked at it and it felt like I had just fallen asleep when Azriel awoke me in an emergency. Azriel had hurriedly told me Adriata was under attack and I slipped into the leathers Azriel had made for me adding my  furs and cloak back onto my shoulder, next thing I know I’m in the bloodied streets of Adriata beside Mor and Feyre, Azriel and Cassian somewhere in the skies with whatever other forces Rhys had scrounge together on such short notice.  I had been pulled into a hallway by someone whose armor I recognized as the enemy held me in a chokehold and I couldn’t get a grip on them due to how they had my arms restrained, an idea graced me as their arm  rubbed against my face in my struggle. I growled before opening my mouth and latching my sharpened teeth into their arm, they screamed and relaxed their grip; it was enough of a give I was able to tear my mouth away from their arm and turn on them before tearing their head from their shoulders, a trick Amren had taught me. I rejoined their side and they both gave me a look that questioned if I was okay without the words leaving their mouth. 

Then we were back home, and I was more than thankful to rinse the blood from my face. Nesta seemed to be coming around slowly as she worked with Amren, Elian was still pale and distant but was slowly coming around with Nuala and Cerridwen. Everything had seemed like it was going okay when Rhys and my sister finally announced the meeting with the rest of the high lords. I stayed beside Azriel the entire time we were there, it had seemed like negotiations were going fairly okay, yes there was people acting suspicious of others but with a war on the horizon who wouldn’t be suspicious of others, until Eris had opened his mouth about what had happened to Mor; she had confided in me what had happened one day when I had seen the scars while we were tanning, Eris’s words had enraged me and Azriel as well. If I hadn’t been enraged I was sure Azriel could have kept his composure if it wasn’t for my added emotions screaming down the bond. 

Azriel reached across the table and had decked Eris, I stood from my own chair when Eris had landed a hit against Azriel’s cheek; a growl had ust echoed from my chest when the fight was called off. That had been the start of the downwards spiral of the first day of the meeting, Tamlin showing up and portraying my sister the way he did was enough for Azriel to defend her and when Azriel was dismissed out of hand it took everything I    had in me to not rip Tamlin’s throat out; thankfully I was still able to threaten to do it. With tensions so high the first day of the meeting was called, the rest of the circle retired to our quarters with Helion in tow.

The second day started out alright, we all thought all tensions or issues had been aired, by the mother were we wrong. Interrupting us in the middle of a thought Nesta had screamed while the hairs on the back of my neck raised and we heard a loud crackle and roar, the color had drained from everyone’s faces as we realized what that had meant, the wall had fallen. 

It had been months of war, fight after fight had everyone exhausted, and we all knew the last leg of the fight was nearing. Elain had been kidnapped by the cauldron, Nesta felt like she was guilty for opening the bridge that had let that happen; Azriel had calmed me while I destroyed the inside of the tent we all stood in at the news she had been taken, had let me get the anger that I failed to protect both of my younger sisters now. Then Feyre was concocting a plan and going into the enemy camp as Ianthe, Feyre was rescuing Elain while also rescuing an additional person with the help of Tamlin and Jurian. It was only after this we had found out Juriuan was a spy and was actually on our side, but they wouldn’t make it out with the naga-hounds on their tails and Azriel had to help rescue them.  I had been panicked enough at the thought of my sisters in danger but from across the hills I watched as a naga-hound had sunk its fangs into Azriel’s wings, the scream that left me was gut wrenching as I felt the pure pain my mate was in. 

Finally everyone was back in the camp, Azriel in the med-tent being cared for by Madja the thought of losing his ability to fly due to permanent damage to his wings looming over both of our heads. I knew how much flying meant to him, but the final day of the fight was upon us and I wasn’t going to let my sisters be on that field without me.  I had come face to face with the weaver while I was out on the field, she had stopped and acknowledged me with a small smirk before she continued on her bloody rampage. Bryaxis and the Carver were there as well, I had crossed paths with them once or twice, and we had covered each other's back, why they had done it? I haven't a clue, but I assumed they recognized the rage beginning to boil under my skin, that had finally started to rear its head as I ripped those that opposed me apart. Whatever it was that lurked under my skin snapped as I heard Nesta scream, my vision blurred and I felt that terrible snap of my bones as I blindly ran towards my sisters. 

It was as my vision cleared that I truly recognized what my gift from the cauldron was, what I had agreed to in the depths of the cauldron when faced with the beast that lurked there. I loomed over the fae scattered about the grounds around me, some shrieked in horror others stood stunned, I felt something thrashing against my mouth and gritted my teeth, biting down i felt the familiar crunch of bones yet it was all so different as a scream erupted and the taste of blood filled my mouth. I had become the same beast I faced inside the cauldron, I felt the energy that thrummed through me as I raced towards where I felt my sisters. As I reached the top of the hill I saw our father there, when had he joined the battle? How long had I been enraged?

Cassian was there too, Nesta covering his body wit her own, and the King had a sickening smirk on his face. My father stood between Nesta and the King, a pit formed in my stomach as read filled me, one paw in front of the other I tried to force my body forward. Before I can blink the King has my father’s head in his grasp, a sickening snap has me charging forward as our father slumps to the floor. A blur of movement, as my vision begins to blur again, then I’m towering over the King. I hear Elain scream as they snap closed around the King and his headless body slumps to the ground beside our fathers, his blood tasted bitter and I feel the crunch of his skull collapsing in on itself within my mouth. I let it fall from my mouth and watch as it awkwardly rolls a few inches from where it had hit the ground. Elain has a bag of medical supplies and moves to stand by Nesta and Elain, our eyes catch on eachother and there's an understanding there, they recognize me.

“Sister…’Elain barely mumbles it. 

I stand in shock before I feel the bones in my body cracking again, exhaustion crashes into me and I’m back in my fae body. I can’t even take a step before I’m collapsing and hearing yet another heartbroken scream from across the field, my vision blurs like that time back in the throne room after the cauldron. 

I hear murmuring when I finally come back too, based on the smell and colors I’m able to figure out I’m in the med tent. Azriel is in the bed to my left, still healing from his wounds the hounds caused. He looks like he's been crying and I try to push myself up to comfort him, all the voices silence all at once; the rest of the circle stands around me and Azriel, Madja helps me sit up and it's only then I realize it's not only me and Azriel there, Cassian is in a cot across from Azriel and Amren in one across from me and Rhys is being looked over while he sits on a stool in the center of the four of us. 

It's Azriel’s voice that finds its way to me first. “Hey Wildling, good to see you awake, take it easy. You overdid it out there, but you still did it, you took the king down. According to Cass, you ripped his head straight off his body. Good job Love.”

It's a bitter smile in his voice. “I remember that, what happened after? It's all a blur.”

 Cassian's astonished laugh is my answer “You ripped his head off, ended the whole thing, then you changed back from whatever that huge creature version of you was and passed out.” 

“It's what I saw when I went under in the cauldron. That beast is my gift, I guess.” I dryly answered back, still sore from the pain in my bones. 

It was then after we had cleared up what had happened with me, with the king did Feyre, Rhys, and Amren tell us what all else happened. Rhys had died, Feyre had felt the bond break and begged the lords to give him his life back. Amren had sacrificed herself for us too, she technically had died, sacrificed the ancient part of herself and was now just a regular high fae. Our father was dead, and the war was over. Life could somewhat return to normal, and I was grateful.

Finally Solstice was rolling around and everyone could breath somewhat normally, Azriel and Cassian had both healed nicely. Azriel and I had grown even closer and stronger, we had thrown around the idea that sometime after the solstice we would do an actual ceremony that mated fae did when they decided to marry. I had been ecstatic, we had cried the night he suggested it and had made love for hours, staying in bed the next day till well after the sun was over the mountain. 

I had managed to get some time to do solstice shopping today since Azriel was out on a mission from Rhys, he said he would be back before dinner tonight. It had felt like I had searched every shop, yet I still couldn't find something for Azriel. Everyone else I had gotten something, even Nesta though I knew it was unlikely she'd be there with her current habits; she had asked to be left alone so I left her alone.

For Mor I had found a pretty red night dress that was incredibly thin and strappy with a slit that easily would’ve reached her navel, for Amren a pair of sapphire earrings with a matching bracelet set, for Cassian a set of training wraps for his hands as he had taken to complaining about the new scars there bugging him, for Rhys a set of small purple cufflinks, Elain a book I had found talking about gardens and plant life throughout the courts, Feyre I had got a set of canvases made from incredibly nice materials and the stuff to make your own p[aint like she had when we were younger, Nesta a collectors set of books she had often read as a child i had to admit I asked Rhysand to get them from the human lands for me, but Azriel? I was clueless. When asked he said he wanted nothing, but by the mother I was going to get him something.  It was only after I turned into another shop that I spied the smallest thing in a glass case out of the corner of my eyes. 

Elain had asked if a tonic for his headaches from Madja would be a good gift, as the male did often battle headaches from his terrible sleep regime. There was one thing he complained about, especially more often now that the colder months were approaching; the scars on his hands would often become sore, sometimes they would become so painful he couldn’t spar or even write. In a small glass case I spied a silk pair of gloves, I knew there was an enchanter in Velaris and was quick to purchase the soft gloves. I wanted to get him soft gloves so they wouldn’t catch on the scars, a bell ringed above me as I pushed the door to the enchanter open. An older male greeted me, and I passed him the gloves explaining what kind of enchantment I wanted to put on them; he nodded knowingly and brought them into the back to get to work, he returned them to me half an hour later folded and wrapped in blue tissue paper. I thanked him cheerily and paid him generously for his work.   

Back at home I sat criss-cross on the floor, wrapping the gifts in shimmery black paper and wrapping them with blue bows. Eventually calling Rhys to hide them away with the rest of the presents like Azriel had told me to do. I decided to take a nap on the couch and Azriel had returned right on cue, well before dinner was to start. We made our way to the townhouse for dinner that was beginning to be decorated for solstice, after everyone had ate and said their goodnights Azriel swept me into the air; a tradition we had started after family dinners was to go on a flight across Velaris, I’d be clutched tight against Azriel’s chest as we soared above the city and finally back to the house on top of the mountain. I had happily curled up on his side that night as the solstice crept closer.

When finally the day of solstice had come around, Azriel had brought me down to the town house, kissed me goodbye, and informed me he would be back before dinner. The other two illyrian males disappeared with him, and I helped my sisters with preparations.  Mor and Feyre disappeared together  for a few hours, it was well after noon when everyone had finally returned from their little snowball fight; Rhys and Cassian were pouting  as they kicked the snow off their boots upon entering the town house. My mate proudly walked in behind them, head held high, very obviously the winner. I pressed a kiss to his lips and congratulated him and in response he deepened it, slipping his tongue into his my mouth for a second before Rhys and Cassian were faking gagging noises. 

Eventually the time for presents rolled around and everyone had started exchanging gifts, then Nesta had showed up in a pretty rough condition. I hugged her and pulled her to sit beside me, pressing the boxes from Elain and I into her hands; tears had welled in her eyes when she saw what I had gotten her but she caught herself before they fell and simply thanked me with a hug. Everyone else exchanged presents, save for a few of us mates, Rhys and Feyre hadnt publicly exchanged gifts and neither had Az and I. We celebrated Feyre’s birthday and then Az and I went out to Elain’s gardens, which had been decorated with strings of faelights. I asked Az if I could give him my gift first, to which he easily agreed and I presented him with the gloves.  He slipped them on over his hands and tears found themselves in his eyes as he thanked me and peppered me with kisses, eventually he composed himself and asked me to close my eyes to which I agreed.

I heard a crunch as he shifted around in his spot, “Alright, open them.” 

Tears filled my eyes at the sight in front of me, Azriel was kneeled in front of me, a ring box presented out to me.

“I know we already discussed this and both agreed to it, but I hadn’t got you a ring to symbolize it yet.Happy Solstice my wildling.” He stood and slipped the ring onto my finger. 

We had returned inside to find everyone else passed out or in their room,we slipped into ours just like everyone else. 

A few months later Feyre was announcing her pregnancy, we had all celebrated together and that night had flipped a switch in Azriel, neither of us had really known the male had a thing for breeding until the thought of us being in Feyre and Rhys’ position had crossed his thoughts, that night was filled with breathy moans and the sound of skin pounding against skin. Yet the simple act was enough to satiate Azriel’s hunger, to satiate us both really. 

Feyre had a difficult pregnancy but pulled through, Nesta sacrificed her powers to save Feyre’s life and before we knew it. Feyre was pregnant with her second and Azriel became hungrier and more feral when he fucked me, claiming his instincts were screaming at him to repeatedly fill me.  

It had all been okay until Nesta and Casssian had their first born, a whole new side to Azriel unlocked. I had never seen Azriel as jealous as he was the day we all sat around the living room, the infant in Nesta’s arms and Cassian leaning over her shoulder to wiggle his finger at the small girl whose wings flapped happily. Nyx was six at the time and had eagerly climbed into my head to hug me, ever the affectionate child unlike his sister who wanted nothing to do with anyone since her birth. Azriel’s eyes caught on me holding and rocking the six year old and I felt the pride roll down the bond from him, I sent him a joyous wave back.

It was only when Cassian and Nesta passed me their daughter did I really feel how jealous Azriel had become of the little families his brothers had crafted. As the small girl placed her tiny hand around my own an dI began to tear up as she smiled happily at me with the biggest grin on her face, I looked over to Az and saw the emotion in his eyes, a mix of lust, jealousy, and pride. I offered the small babe to him and he took her in his massive hands, adorned with the silk gloves I had bought him all those years ago. She wrapped her hand around one of his fingers and he looked up at me with massive puppy dog eyes. 

Azriel’s birthday approached quickly, and I knew above all else there was thing he wanted for his birthday. I had felt it enough through the bond, every time he would see his brothers with their small families a small wave of jealousy and want would be sent through to me. Cassian’s daughter had just started walking, took her first steps today because she had wanted her father and he was just out of her reach on the couch, Azriel had been witness as she threw herself in Cassian’s arms; he had come down to our room that night upset, had cried in my arms how he had wanted what they have. It wasn’t that we were doing anything to prevent a pregnancy but when both of my sisters had conceived they had taken potions to boost their fertility. Which led me to Azriel’s birthday gift and the current appointment I had with Madja. 

With the potion secured the day of his birthday, thanks to Rhys’s wonderful distraction, I was able to wrap it in a small box and hide it within our room. After hiding it I had made it back to the kitchens just as Rhys and Azriel had returned, Azriel pressed a kiss to my lips and Nyx had run in and threw himself onto Az in a bear hug. It was an endearing sight that had me hoping that with the addition of the potion Madja had made me soon enough our own son would be doing that to his father. 

Dinner had gone off without a hitch, Nyx and his 4 year old sister Aurora lit up the table with their argument over whether or not Helion’s pegasi hatched from eggs like birds or were live births like horses. Nyx was getting fed up with Aurora's egg theory since he had asked ‘Grandpa Helion’ himself last time they had gone there, Arora was 2 and he had been 6 so of course he knew what he was talking about. Rhysand was rubbing his temples in agony, apparently the children had been having this argument all day, and wouldn’t let any adult butt in and settle it. 

Eventually all the kids tired themselves out and everyone started toting them to their rooms, Rhys had hugged AZriel wishing him a goodnight, Feyre taking the chance to whisper to me a goodluck with a wink her mate not far behind her with a smirk and a nod in my direction as they headed off for their wing of the manor.  Cassian and Neesta had left almost right after cake due to their daughter completely crashing and passing out at the table in her high chair. 

Azriel smiled and let out a soft sigh. “Thank you for planning this love, it was a nice night.” he placed a kiss to my temple with a small content hum.

“It only gets better from here Az.” I smirked and he wiggled his brows in response.

“Oh yeah?” a smirk flitted onto his features.

“Yep. Still have to give you your present.” I nodded smugly and started pulling him towards our chambers.

He followed , curiosity evident as he tried to repeatedly guess what I had gotten him, guess after guess fell from his lips. Before Madja would give me the potion she had to check and make sure that if I managed to conceive it wouldn’t be a risk to my health since I didn’t have the magical benefit from Nesta’s powers that my sisters did, but thank the cauldron literally,  because when it gave me my gift the growth spurt affected all of my bones including my hips so I was safe to carry his child. We made it into our room, my furs hung up on a coat rack beside the wing-suited coat I had got him last solstice and beside them a end table we used as a catch-all. I had hidden it here in the drawer because we always just threw stuff on top of it and went on collapsing into bed at night after rough missions. 

He furrowed his brow as I pulled the box out and handed it to him, I gestured for him to open the small box  and he stilled when he saw the small vial.

His eyes darted between me and the vial, tears began to well in his eyes. “Is this…”

 He had to bite back a sob so I finished the thought for him. “The fertility boost both my sisters used when they conceived? Yeah it is, I finally got approved by Madja for it.”

He dropped to his knees holding the vial and sobbing. “Thank you, my wildling, thank you.”

I took a few steps towards him prompting him to stand up and pulled him into a deep hug, until he composed himself and stopped crying. 

He handed me and the vial with a pleading look on his face. “Can we use it tonight?” 

I took it from him and popped the cork out of the small bottle, shooting the terrible tasting liquid into my mouth. I wiped my mouth as I smirked back at him. “That's the plan shadowsinger.”

His shadows curled happily around my feet as I pulled him into a deep kiss, slowly coaxing him farther and farther into our room as I managed to strip his clothes from him. Then when we had finally gotten close enough to the bed, I pulled him down on top of me while I nipped at his jawline.  I could feel the effects of  the potion slowly start taking effect, I had been told it would increase the amount of lubricant my body produced as well as a dull throbbing ache within my ovaries and uterus. 

Azriel realized fairly quickly he was the only naked one and ripped my clothes from my body, his head dropped to my core and he buried his tongue inside of, bringing me to orgasm a handful of times. Eventually satisfied with the taste of me on his tongue, he buried himself to the hilt inside of me and I could feel the tip of him kiss my cervix. I screamed his name until my throat was hoarse that night, only soothed when he had spilled a handful of times into me and finally pulled out only to replace my dripping cunt with my mouth instead. 

We slept in the entirety of the next day, either wrapped up in each other as the potion boosted fertility for 48 hours, or sleeping and recovering some energy; though there had been many times we had fallen asleep together with him still buried deep inside of me so as not to waste anything.  I had made a promise with Madja that I'd start checking in with her weekly after the potion was consumed and the effects had come and gone, so if I was to get pregnant from this night, we would catch it as early as possible to start me on the correct vitamins and set up a care plan immediately. 

As I laid there in Azriel’s arms I could only hope that thanks to the potions help his seed would take root and I would be able to grant him this one small thing he so desperately deserved.  His snores lulled me into my own sleep and in my heart were that bond sung and glowed brightly I had a feeling the intended result would in fact take root.

[wttcsms]

you wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody, atsumu miya

pairing atsumu miya x reader word count 1.4k synopsis love for you is holding him; love for him is allowing himself to be held. content contains hurt/comfort, intimacy, atsumu-centric, insecurities, unconditional love, showering together but make it sfw

The stinging spray of scalding hot water from the showerhead should be enough to get him to leave, but he barely registers the pain, can’t seem to bring himself to feel the heat, can’t seem to bring himself to feel anything.

No — that’s not entirely true. He feels one thing.

Devastated. 

Everyone knows Atsumu Miya likes to talk shit on and off the court. It’s his thing, his trademark, his brand. Lots of athletes like to talk big about how they’re going to win; who the hell is going to support a guy who walks onto the court with a well, it’ll be alright if I lose. 

He’s staring down at the tiles of the shower, can somewhat register the persistent barrage of water spraying onto his back as he has one hand splayed on the wall, shoulders slumped, water dripping from his hair and running into his vision, making everything blurry. 

Don’t blink, he tries to demand of himself, but the issue is, we can’t always control our bodies. He has to shut his eyes, just for a brief second, and in that second, it all comes back to him.

The opposing team at set point. His team depending on him to serve. One point left. Only one chance. He can feel the stadium’s crowd holding their breath, can feel the lack of air in the atmosphere, can hear how loudly the blood is rushing to his head. Dizzy. Dazed. He doesn’t give into pressure, not anymore, not ever. Doesn’t feel performance anxiety, knows better than to try to attempt something flashy just for the glory of a good story to tell. 

Give ‘em a serve they don’t have a chance of receiving, he demands of himself. 

The final seconds of the match all come to him like stills from a movie, each frame another devastating blow to his ego, his self-worth, his very being. The ball is in the air, he’s bending his knees to prepare for the jump, his hand making contact with the ball. Something’s off, he can feel it upon first contact, but it’s too late to save, too late for him to change anything.

The ball lands.

On his side of the net.

He’s frozen in place as he stares ahead. He can tell the other team is cheering, slapping each other on their backs, and he can hear the blow of a whistle, the celebration from the crowd. But all he sees is the ball. All he sees is his failure.

Atsumu has spent a good portion of his volleyball career knowing that he plays the game better than most. It’s why he feels so comfortable talking about the lack of skills other players display. It’s why he always has something to say at practice, on the court, during a post-game interview. 

And he knows he makes mistakes. He knows that he’s only human. But a bad serve in the middle of a game isn’t as crushing as knowing that he is the sole reason as to why the Black Jackals’ season is going to be ending early. 

Where did he go wrong? He did everything perfectly, did everything the way he usually does. Why couldn’t he perform? Why did he let his team down? Why—

“Atsumu?” 

He doesn’t look up, and all you can see is the sad shape of his outline from the foggy glass door of the shower. You know that Atsumu probably wants nothing more than to be alone right now, but you can’t help but worry when fifteen minutes have gone by, and you could still hear the shower running. That’s your first sign that something is wrong.

Atsumu is a notoriously quick showerer, to an almost concerning degree. When you first started living together, you debated planning elaborate tricks to see whether or not he was even using soap. (Which, in hindsight, was just flatout silly; he walks out the shower smelling overwhelming of his Axe Men’s 3-in-1 and Old Spice deodorant.) 

No — the first sign that something is wrong would be his uncharacteristic silence on the trip back home. He hadn’t responded to your it’s okay, baby, you’ll get ‘em next season. Instead, he just looked out the window, the devastated expression on his face silencing you as well. Even when he lost to Kageyama, he had been disappointed, upset, but still talking big about how he was going to crush the Adlers next time around. He had then made a comment about Tobio’s stupid haircut, and that’s when you told him if he doesn’t have anything nice to say, he shouldn’t say anything at all.

Now, you’d give anything to have him say something. Something for you to work with.  

“Atsumu?” You call out for him again, worried when you don’t see his figure moving. 

Pathetic. Atsumu thinks that’s what he is. A loser, a fucking scrub, a failure. Even if his teammates won’t admit it, the media will. And what then? Will you think that about him too? It’d be the truth, wouldn’t it? Isn’t that why you’re in the bathroom now? To pity him? 

He’s too busy tearing himself down to react to the distinct sound of you sliding back the glass door of the shower so you can enter it. There’s a brief burst of the cool air of the bathroom hitting his exposed body, but it evaporates the moment you shut the door. 

“Oh, ‘Tsumu.” You whisper it, and he wants to tell you that he’s not fucking fragile. That he’s not going to shatter into a million pieces if you just raise your voice, if you tell him how you really feel about him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t turn around to face you. He doesn’t want to. He can’t.

His skin is red from the heat of the water, his back staring at you angrily, hurt. The skin’s going to need some time to heal, and you turn the faucet, lowering the temperature of the water. 

“Turn around, honey. Please?” You’ve never seen Atsumu so upset before, so quiet. You wait several minutes for him to actually do as you request, and you think it’s only because he wants a way to get rid of you sooner. 

You don’t say anything to him as you reach for his shampoo, letting it lather in your hands before you give him a pleading look, one that has him leaning down so you can reach his hair. It feels nice, he thinks, the way you’re shampooing his hair. You’re gentle with your movements, and it almost relaxes him. 

You use your body wash on him. Massage the suds into his skin, but you’re mindful of the amount of pressure you apply. You know which areas of his skin is more sensitive from its exposure to the hot water, and you are careful with the spots of his body that he had chosen to be negligent with. 

“Am I so fuckin’ worthless that you have to do somethin’ as simple as bathing me?” He’s not angry at you. He might spit out the words — words that come out sounding all raw and scratchy, like they had to personally claw themselves from his throat — but the anger is not directed at you. It’s at himself. 

“Look at me.” 

His eyes are glossy, wet, shiny, and you know it’s not because of the shower. You’ve never seen Atsumu cry before, and you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. So, you do what feels right. You whisper his name softly, tenderly, and it’s this tenderness, your unwavering softness, your unconditional love, that breaks him. That makes him feel safe enough to break. That makes him think of the possibility that you’ll take these jagged pieces of him and piece them back together for him, with him. 

He’s so much bigger than you. You tell him all the time that he’s larger than life, and he thinks about that comment as he lets himself sink into your open arms, as he lets himself be held. He has never felt smaller in his life, and in your embrace, he buries his face into your shoulder, letting his warm tears mix in with the water already on your body.

“I don’t know how you can still look at me.” He mutters, and every word is spoken onto your skin, tiny blades striking you. 

Atsumu isn’t sure what he wants to hear, isn’t even certain that there’s anything that could be said to ease his devastation, but melts into you even more so when you tell him,

“Atsumu, I thought you already knew that nothing can change the way I look at you.”

[double-aa-batteries]

things about about TSC I can't stop thinking about

"hindsight was a backstabbing bitch"

curtains symbolizing jeans healing journey, how he keeps them closed at Abby's in a effort to recreate the nest in search of some normalcy, how he opens them and looks out the window his new apartment, seeking calm in his overwhelm

"I want to go home" (13) meaning evermore vs. "I want to go home" (329) meaning to his apartment with Laila, Cat and jeremy

the fact that jean's phone is probably still in Abby's freezer

Kevin "their kindness matters" Day

Neil's smile is as unsettling to everyone else as it is to him and he has so much more Nathaniel in him than he recognizes in his own pov

Jean is so similar to neil in that they're both petty, dramatic bitches who care deeply about their teammates' safety

riko and the ravens quite literally took jean's name from him (Jean-Yves, Jonny, Paris)

"[Renee's] love was so tender it looked like grief as it curled her mouth and made her eyes shine"

jean gets forehead kisses from Renee and Cat

"that creepy little goalkeeper Andrew Minyard"

jean's many nicknames for neil: tiny bastard, tedious malcontent, abominable cockroach, wretched little runaway, ignorant child, etc.

Neil took the bandage off of jeans 3 and promptly stuck it over Kevin's chess peice

"I should have let him kill you," Jean said. "Probably," Neil agreed, "but you didn't, so here we all are."

"...aside from his outstanding murder charge, there was nothing interesting about that fox"

the fact that the point of tfc was to show characters who couldn't/wouldn't/ or were unable to heal from the trauma they had faced and yet from the very beginning and without question, TSC is about jean clawing his way forward and toward healing no matter what

the cheese drawer

dadmack dialed up to 1,000 See: "i will burn this house down before I let them touch you"

bisexual jean Moreau panicking over his teammates in swimsuits and Jeremy's long legs

"He's earned the right to be arrogant"

riko couldn't bring himself to hurt wymack because he was Kevin's father and Kevin was like a brother to riko and riko has always yearned for a father's recognition

Alvarez has a motorcycle and jean didn't say no to learning how to ride it

we know next to nothing about Jeremy Knox despite having chapters in his pov (why was he in therapy? why was his dad in France? what the hell did he do at the Fall banquet his freshman year to tear his family in half?)

that being said: Jeremy Knox is a rich boy with a butler

everything about Catalina Alverez

the fact that Jeremy knox has two brothers and one of them is probably dead

"rather than force the Trojans underground for that part, they simply built steps up and over it inside the stadium" the JUXTAPOSITION

Alvarez cooks and so now does jean

we know for a fact riko subjected Kevin to "subtler cruelties" while he was in the nest

"they never should have said yes when you asked" and "I didn't ask"

"as if you can tell a girl apart from a cow on a good day"

"permission to break his face, coach?" jean asked. "denied," white said.

all of thanksgiving pt. II

"alarm looked wrong on a face born for smiling"

jean casually saying "your apologies are as useful as perfume on a frog" to Lucas

Neil's whole relationship with Jean

David "I believe we all have the choice to be better than the hands that shaped us" Wymack

Neil generally being a menace to society but especially "Neil, being the person he was, pointed at the fire hydrant adjacent to it's front bumper and said, 'thats illegal, just so you know.'"

"the cracking heat in his chest could have been his ribs snapping or his heart breaking"

[it-happened-one-fic]

Hi, sorry to bother you but I would like to ask for a post from Leona, where Cheka is trying to get her two favorite people married (ie Leona and the reader)

Hi! Sorry it took me so long to respond to your ask! I had a bit of trouble writing this one, but over all I had fun too. I hope you enjoy!

Duly-Noted - Leona

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fluff/ sfw/ featuring Cheka/ request

Word Count: 1790

Leona huffed out a sigh as he watched Cheka play with you on the floor of the Ramshackle dorm from his relaxed lounging on the couch.

It hadn’t taken him long to figure out his nephew’s scheme when, as soon as the little fuzzball had appeared, he’d cheerfully stated that he wanted to come and play with you. Of course, Cheka had given himself as soon as he’d included his demands that Leona come along with him, even though he’d been to visit you at Ramshackle dorm plenty of times on his own.

Cheka was definitely fond of you, and Leona couldn’t really blame the kid considering how you patiently played along with the child. But that wasn’t what was really going on here.

What was going on here had more to do with Cheka’s pressing questions about why Leona so often told family members that he wasn’t particularly attached to anyone at school.

He could still see Cheka’s bright eyes looking up at him with an insistent frown on his face, “You know that is true, Unca! You like Y/n!”

Leona had snorted at his nephew, shaking his head at the child and, for once, was genuinely amused, “And what makes you think that?”

“You look at them the same way Papa looks at Mama. And Y/n likes you too! Why don’t you just take them home with you? Then you don’t have to worry about leaving them here while you visit us!” Cheka was as determined as Leona had ever seen him, but it was a drastic misreading of the situation.

Leona had plenty of reasons to not want to visit home, and none of them had a thing to do with you. But the moment he’d told the child that, Cheka had smiled. 

He’d been all but beaming up at Leona from where he sat on his lap, hands fisted in Leona’s shirt like he thought his uncle would run away, “But you do like them.”

There were moments, like right then, when Leona almost wondered if Cheka was more intelligent than his father. Perhaps he’d taken after his mother in that sense. But then Cheka’s hare-brained plot for tricking you and Leona into a relationship certainly hadn’t been well schemed.

After all, Leona wasn’t the only one who'd caught on. You had, too. Though, to be fair, Cheka wasn’t exactly being stealthy with his questions about how, “Wouldn’t it be great if we all lived together?”

Leona had fully planned on handling it, but you'd only smiled, shaking your head and saying you’d talk to Cheka about it, “He’s just a kid after all, and he doesn’t mean any harm. There’s no need to come down on him so hard.”

Leona had only eyed you with rising eyebrows before shrugging, “Have it your way. But he won’t drop this easily. He’s a stubborn little thing.”

You’d snorted, elbowing him lightly as you went by to rejoin his nephew, “Must run in the Kingscholar family.”

And that had been that.

Truthfully, Leona hadn’t known what you’d told his nephew, but Cheka had fallen largely silent on the matter of a possible romance with you after that. 

In hindsight, though, Leona really should have known better to think that was all there was going to be to it. Nothing was ever that simple. Especially when you or his nephew were involved.

He had to hand it to Cheka, though; he’d been completely caught off-guard when the child had suddenly questioned him about his wedding plans. Especially since it happened during a trip to Sam’s with Ruggie.

Cheka held up the little ring-shaped lollipop, and before Leona could even start to refuse to buy the treat for him, the child spoke with innocent curiosity, “What kind of ring are you going to get for Y/n when you two get married?”

Leona blinked, his eyes widening as he stared at the child who just stared up at him while Ruggie did a spit-take and Sam’s eyebrows lifted. The only sound that broke the silence was the occasional beep as Sam continued to scan items.

Leona finally frowned, crossing his arms as he eyed the child, “What makes you think I’m going to marry the Herbivore?”

Cheka frowned almost immediately, as if he were trying to mirror his uncle’s expression, “Y/n and you like each other. But Y/n said they couldn’t move in with us until you two had gotten married. They said people would talk since we’re royals and they aren’t if you didn’t.” 

Cheka’s expression slowly shifted to one of concern, his tiny hand reaching out and grasping Leona’s pants leg, “You are going to marry them, aren’t you, Unca? Y/n’ll be sad if you don’t.”

Ruggie only barely managed to contain his laughter in an ugly-sounding snort that had Leona shooting him a look while a smile began to creep across Sam’s face.

“Did they?” Leona’s gaze shifted back to his nephew as he spoke, his tone careful as he eyed the child. But he was already putting two and two together without Cheka having to say anything.

You certainly had talked to Cheka about it, but now Leona was going to have to talk to you about this.

Ruggie wiped his eyes lightly before kneeling, humor still flooding his voice even as he eyed Cheka, “Well, marriage is a pretty big deal, Cheka. Leona can’t just go proposing without putting some real thought into it.”

Cheka frowned, but Ruggie only titled his head, reasoning with the child easily, “Y/n deserves the best, don’t you think?”

Leona watched, eyebrows raised, as Cheka frowned thoughtfully before his tiny face cleared like a sun coming out from behind clouds, and he nodded, smiling widely, “Oh! I see! Leona wants to sweep Y/n off their feet like those princes in the stories Mama likes so much.”

Leona didn’t even bother hiding his groan as Ruggie snickered mischievously, nodding and egging on the child, “Exactly, so you’re going to have to give him some time to do just that.”

Ruggie paused, glancing up at Leona with a grin that had Leona glaring at him warningly. But the hyena beastman was hardly even phased as he looked back at the child seriously, his eyes sparkling with poorly disguised mischievousness, “We’ll both have to support him, Cheka.”

Cheka’s expression turned determined as he nodded before looking up at Leona, “Good luck, Unca!”

Leona sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out an annoyed, “Uh-huh,” as he watched Ruggie lead his nephew out of the store.

 He would get Ruggie for what a mess this was inevitably going to end up being, as well as deal with whatever the little mercenary wanted in exchange for his assistance later. First, he had a certain herbivore to find.

And he couldn’t complain that you were hard to find. But then you never were.

You were, as ever, at Ramshackle. Working on upkeep for the run-down building on your day-off, just like you usually did on the weekends when you weren’t working at the Mostro Lounge.

Leona didn’t even have to call out since Grim handled letting you know he was here for him.

You turned, blinking up at him in surprise, before a smile split its way across your face. Leona wasn’t really looking at you, though. Instead, he was staring at the busted chair you were apparently working on with a frown. 

How the crossbar had wiggled its way out, was beyond him, but that was evidently enough, what had happened.

“Leona! No little prince with you today?” Your voice was bright, and Leona found himself looking back your way as he propped himself in the doorway.

He crossed his arms as he looked down at where you were seated on the floor, tilting his head at you, “Nope, but a certain little prince did tell me what you told him the other day.”

You blinked in confusion before your eyes slowly cleared, and you let out a small chuckle, shaking your head slightly, “Oh, that. He bought the marriage excuse pretty easily, and at least that way I didn’t have to lie or something like that to him.”

Leona felt his eyebrows rise at your words as you twisted to go back to work on the chair, seemingly unconcerned by what side effects your words might have had.

“Yeah, but now that he’s found out we’re dating when no one else has, he’s going to report directly back to either Falena or his wife,” Leona pushed himself off the wall as he spoke, walking over to where you were.

You simply shook your head at his disgruntled words, a smile on your face, “I still don’t see why it would be so horrible for them to know. But even if he does tell them, they probably won’t believe him. Not if Falena is as concerned about your love life as you say he is.”

Leona frowned as he watched you before kneeling and reaching around you to help you support the chair while you fought the crossbar into place, “No, he’ll call and ask all sorts of questions or, worse, have his wife ask me all sorts of questions.”

You hummed, tilting your head slightly, “You’ll be able to handle it if it comes to that. But, like I said, I really don’t see why it’s a big deal if they know or not. I’d like to meet your family.”

Your words caused his eyebrows to lift once more as he glanced over at you, watching as a frown crossed your face.

You glanced over your shoulder at him, confusion accenting your voice as soon as you spoke, “How did you find out what I’d told Cheka anyway? Did he just tell you?”

Leona let out a huff, his ears twitching as he glanced off to the side, “He saw one of those lollipop ring thingies at Sam’s and asked me what sort of ring I was going to get you for the wedding.”

You laughed aloud, earning yourself a look even as you shook your head in light-hearted amusement before glancing at him, “Hopefully nothing like a Ring-pop. That would be hideous.”

Leona grinned, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder, “You don’t want something big like that?”

You snorted, shaking your head, “No. I think a rock that size, even a fake one, would be a little heavy.”

He let out an amused huff, turning his eyes back to the chair as he idly considered what sort of ring might actually be best, “Duly noted.”

After all, your thoughts on it all mattered too, even if you didn’t know that held actually had been looking at some rings already.

[miley1442111]

(part 8) choices in hindsight- a.donaldson

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

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

summary: eleven years later.

(dw there are more parts after this :))

pairing: art donaldson x reader, patrick zweig x reader

warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment and depression, hurt, cheating, loneliness, etc.

PART 8 of 12

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

Eleven years later….

You sat beside the umpire, your opponent smashing her racket in frustration as tears fell down her face. You were tired. Every bone in your body ached, your muscles were tense, your skin felt too tight. 

Your mind was worse. Playing tennis since you were a little girl does that to someone. Being in the public eye does that to someone, being alone does that to someone.

“You fucking bitch!” She shouted. “You fucking bitch!”

You didn’t care about it, the match was done, and you’d won. As usual. 

You hated tennis. You hated your life. Your lonely, empty life. 

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

“How about a challenger? To boost your motivation?” Your manager, Michael, offered. 

“I’ll do whatever,” you shrugged. 

Michael stopped in front of you, stopping you from walking. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m fine,” you plastered on a fake smile. “Just tired.”

“In what sense?” He asked. He’d always been able to see right through you. You rolled your eyes. 

“In the sense that I’m completely alone and I’m sick of knowing that I’m a winner while I feel like a failure!” You exploded. “Tashi and Art got married. Patrick isn’t anywhere near as good as he was. I have no friends. I have no family. I have nothing but a bunch of cold, metal trophies, and a team who don’t care if I want to play anymore. All they care about is my game. And I fucking hate tennis!” 

Michael stared at you, face hardening. “You really had to do that in front of everyone?” He asked. You looked around. Your team was around you, but so was your next opponent.

“I’m not exactly worried,” you snarled. 

Michael rolled his eyes. “Go win the match, then we’ll let you have some alcohol and you can drown your sorrows.”

“Fuck yourself!” you shouted as he walked away. 

“How can I do that when you’re constantly fucking me over anyways!” He shouted back. 

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

Back on the court again. Another subpar player against you. 

HIT. You’re worthless. HIT. You’re awful. HIT. You’re nothing. HIT. You deserve to be lonely. HIT. You deserve to be alone. HIT. You deserve to feel worthless.

HIT. Be better. HIT. Be stronger. HIT. Be more. 

HIT. 

“We have a winner!” 

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

“Come on!” Lily shouted from beside him, her eyes on the court as you won, yet again. She’d seen her mother do it so much she was turning it into a catch-phrase. 

“She’s pretty good, right?” He chuckled, his eyes never leaving you. He didn't want to let himself admit it, but god you looked good. The white tennis outfit you had on was practically making him weak in the knees, as well as the 'I don't give a shit' attitude you carried with you. You were simply leaning in your chair, a drink in hand as your opponent screamed to her manager about how unfair playing against you was.

I mean she wasn't wrong. You were the top female tennis player and you were practically unbeatable. You were incredible.

“She’s amazing!” Lily smiled. “When does she play again?”

“Tomorrow,” he answered. He had your schedule memorised. 

“Can I meet her?” 

Art shook his head. “She and mom have a complicated history.” Also, I’m still madly in love with her.

“How so?” Lily asked as he walked with her, hand in hand to the concessions stand. 

“Well, back in college mom and her didn’t get along because mom couldn’t beat her-” he started but he felt Tashi beside him. 

“You’re lying to Lily now?” She snarked. 

Art felt his skin go cold. “No. It’s true-”

“I beat her,” Tashi nodded. “Dad used to date Y/n as well, isn’t that right?”

Art nodded and Lily looked up at him.

“That’s weird,” she confessed. “Why did you break up?”

“I was in love with mom,” Art lied and kissed Tashi on the cheek, the entire display looking awkward and rehearsed. His regret and resentment grew everyday. He’d never regret having Lily, but he regretted everything he did to you, and letting you get away. 

“That’s gross!” She squealed, shielding her eyes from her parents kissing.

“Alright peanut, what do you want?” He asked, moving up in the line and getting ready to order. 

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

HIT.  Train harder. HIT. Work harder. HIT. You deserve nothing. 

The ball hit into your side and you groaned out in pain. “Fuck!”

You let yourself rest on the ground, not even bothering to turn off the automatic ball-throwing machine. 

“Hi,” a familiar voice smiled at you. Your eyes opened to find Patrick Zweig over your head. 

“Hi,” you mumbled, getting up. 

“How are you?” he asked, following you as you began to hit the balls again. 

“Fine,” you grunted out. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he smirked, watching your figure as you bent to hit a ball. “Very good.”

“Your dad give you a job yet?” 

Patrick’s fantasy was broken. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “No, not yet.”

“Too bad. You’d make a much better corporate asshole than the piece-of-shit tennis player you are.”

“Tread easy,” he chuckled, a touch of pathetic begging in his plea. You just rolled your eyes and continued on your exercise. 

“How about you go fuck yourself, Patrick?” Tashi scoffed from the stands, Art beside her. 

“How can I go back to that when she fucks me so well?” He joked. HIT. 

“Leave her alone Pat,” Art sighed. HIT. 

“Why are you defending her?” Tashi questioned, turning to Art. HIT. 

“She is right here in case you don’t see her,” Pat defended. HIT. 

“Pat we fucking know-” Art started, but it just ended up in Tashi talking over him to the point that Patrick started talking over both of them in the argument. 

HIT. HIT. HIT. 

“All three of you can fuck off!” you screamed. “I never want to see your stupid face again Patrick, Tashi you can stop flaunting that you got the love of my life, and Art, go be a dad or something! I don’t care anymore!” 

All three of them turned to you with various faces. Patrick was smirking, happy he’d finally pushed your buttons to the extreme. Tashi looked awkward and caught, maybe even guilty. 

But Art. Art looked at you like you’d hung the stars just for him, then tore it all down in front of him. His beautiful blue eyes filling with tears as he finally got to hear you admit that he was the love of your life, only eleven years too late. 

“I’m content with being alone, as shit as it is. I suggest you all move on from me now,” you sighed, grabbing your bag and walking off to find you manager. 

“See you at the challenger!” Patrick called after you. The ATP Challenger Tour. 

The same one from eleven years ago. 

Where everything fell apart. 

You got that familiar sinking feeling in your stomach.

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

art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

people who asked to be tagged :)

@fkaams

@emily-b

@yourmommycallsmemommy

@hrtsj1m

@januarycolor

[unheavenlyvision]

SLEEP OVER PT.2

ʚ⁺˖⤷ part one

pairing: fushiguro toji/reader

wc: 4.8k

summary: the night carries on but you can't forget what toji promised... you're hoping he plans on following through tonight, you just need to try and not make a fool of yourself first

a/n; i finished it... sorry it took me so long to upload it, i'm completely read up on the manga now and i want to end it all but we carry on i guess

warnings: 18+ only, smut, pwp, swearing, dirty talk, cunnilingus, dacryphilia, light pussy slapping, tease!toji, possessive!toji, fingering, cum play, big dick!toji, p in v sex, cockwarming but not really, afab!reader, no use of y/n or pronouns, nicknames used: doll, honey

MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

The shower water runs down your body, cleaning you of the mess made, relaxing your muscles. As you wash yourself, you can’t help but wonder when ‘later’ is, what did he mean by it? Did he mean later tonight? Or later as in… a later date? You wish he had been more specific, though he was kind of preoccupied at the time so you can understand the lack of details on his part.

Before you had gotten up to shower, Toji had offered his help but you felt embarrassed accepting the offer and had told him you’d be fine on your own. Now, you kind of regret it, imagining his hard body pressed up against yours has your body getting hot, the thoughts less than innocent.

Hopping out the shower and drying yourself off, you tug on the fresh clothes, mainly the bottoms needed replacing, you feel bad for ruining his clothes and then borrowing more but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, based on his reaction to you in his clothes, you have a feeling he prefers it this way.

Walking back out into the main area you announce to Toji, “The shower’s free.”

“Ah, good, I feel gross,” his face scrunches slightly.

Smiling to yourself, you hum, “Take your time.”

He shuffles off down the hall to the bathroom, wanting to be in fresh clothes as soon as possible… maybe you should’ve let him go first… or at least let him shower with you. You feel a little bad now, in hindsight, he might’ve needed the shower more.

Pushing the thought to the back of your mind, you continue your journey into the kitchen. The brownies were too hot before so you let them cool a bit, you’re looking forward to them. It’s been a while since you made some, that’s still kind of true though, since Toji mostly made them.

You can’t help but snicker at the crispy edges, they’re honestly not that burnt. While Toji is in the shower, you cut them up and stack them onto a plate. Obviously, you have one, leaning against the bench and indulging, still yummy. Maybe you’d be a little more bothered by the toughness of them but knowing Toji made them just because of a light-hearted comment from you makes them even better.

Off in the clouds, you think about how much you adore him and his kindness to you, as well as his patience. Eyes slipping closed for a moment, you find yourself thinking about him, under you, moaning, how he spoke to you, how he gave you one of the best orgasms of your life through your clothes. It was honestly quite impressive of him.

Breath against your neck, he asks, “What you thinking about?”

His sudden closeness and low voice makes you jump and gasp, “Toji! Jesus… you scared me…”

He smiles at you, amused, “So?”

“So?” You repeat, not sure what he’s asking and getting even more lost when you notice that he’s only in a towel. It sits low on his hips, water trailing down his abs and beneath the towel. He’s completely distracting, is he talking? He might be talking…

One of his hands grabs your face, your cheeks squishing slightly with how he’s holding you and bringing your eyeline back up to look him in the eyes, “You back?”

You nod wordlessly at him.

“I asked what you were thinking about,” he asks his previous question again.

“Uhmm…” you’re feeling warm, how are you meant to tell him you were thinking about him moaning while you humped against him, “I was thinking about the brownies… they turned out good…”

His eyes watch you in a way that tells you he knows you’re lying… and poorly at that, “Are you sure?”

You try cementing your answer, sticking to your lie, but it sadly comes out more like a question, “Yes?”

Humming, he teases, “You sure you’re not having perverted thoughts ‘bout me?”

Oh god, you might pass out, “I would never… I mean I would… obviously but not just… now…”

As you stumble stupidly, he only lights up more, enjoying your obvious struggle, “You sure? You’re looking awful guilty right now, doll.” His hand lets go of your face but he’s moved in closer, eyes glinting with mischief as he watches you.

Trying to change the subject, you reach for the small bit of brownie you had left, “Try this.” You say, shoving it into his mouth.

He eats the brownie, his brows pulled up in a way that tells you he’s trying not to laugh at how flustered he got you, “You’re cute.”

“And you’re persistent,” you grumble, moving your finger to your mouth, going to lick the rest of the brownie off.

Toji’s hand reaches for you wrist stopping you, before you can process what he’s doing, he’s leaning down and sucking your fingers into his mouth. Tongue licking lightly at you, his eyes dark but playful as he watches how you turn into a sputtering mess in front of him.

He pulls back and comments, “It was good.”

“You are an unbearable–”

“–But you know, it occurs to me…” His body moves closer to yours and his hands reach for either side of your head, “…There is something else I would much rather taste right now.”

Opening your mouth, you go to call his name, tell him he’s an unbearable tease, that he embarrasses you so easily but it’s all lost on you when his mouth is crashing down onto yours. His tongue in your mouth immediately, his lips insistent, fervent, hot. He kisses you dirty and wet, it’s dizzying, he kisses you like you’re a whore and it makes your heart stutter in your chest.

His body crowds you in against the bench, leaning into you, your only choice to grab at his shoulders and try and kiss him back as passionately as he’s kissing you. He gives you a minor reprieve, his lips pulling back, both of you breathing heavy into each other’s mouths. You feel dizzy and stupid, thinking about how large and firm he is pressed up against you.

Breathlessly, you ask, “Is it later yet?”

And fuck, how can Toji possibly say no when you’re looking at him with those big, wet eyes. His kiss pulling you apart like this just makes him want to see how much more he could possibly ruin you. He curses as he tugs you down the hall after him, he’s going to give you what you both need.

In his room, he grabs the pants and boxers of his you’re wearing and tugs them off in one swift motion, “Toji!” You gasp, not expecting his speed.

“Sorry, doll but I need to hurry this along or I’m gonna lose my fucking mind,” he pushes you back until you fall onto his bed, bouncing lightly with the force. Body in the centre of his large bed, you hold your knees together as you jostle. He’s crawling onto the bed after you and resting on his knees, his hands on yours.

Any response you want to or could give dies on your tongue because he’s pulling your legs apart, putting you on obscene display. Eyes staring shamelessly at your wet pussy, you feel red hot and extremely embarrassed. Your hands reach for your shirt and pull it down, covering yourself, trying to retain some of your decency.

Toji growls at you, not approving of your choice, one of his own hands moving off your knees to pull your hand away, “Come on…” he groans, not moving your hand by force even though he definitely could, “Your boyfriend wants to see your pretty, little cunt.”

You whinge, “Toji… it’s embarrassing…”

“No, the fuck it isn’t…it’s fuckin hot,” he sounds pained, desperate, “Please doll…”

Slipping your hand away, you let him do as he pleases. Other hand coming off your knee, he uses both of them to bunch your shirt up your torso. His palms move along your skin, raising goose bumps in their wake, he slowly trails them back to your knees. Then he’s pulling your legs apart again, biting his lower lip as he watches your pussy, eyes stuck on you, on how your cunt twitches for him, how your arousal drools from your cunt.

“I’m putting my mouth on you,” his voice is deep, so effected by you, pussy whipped and he’s not even had you yet.

God, you feel so timid, he makes you feel inexperienced, “…Okay.”

He’s quick to lean down at your acknowledgement, he’s wet, sloppy, licking at you with no particular rhythm. He’s just desperate to taste you, he’s got you arching your back and gasping, fingers digging into the mattress. You’re biting your lip to hold back, not wanting to bother his neighbours but it’s hard when he’s making out with your cunt in such a diabolical way, almost like he’s attempting to get you to scream.

His lips wrap around your clit and suck, a gasped whine resulting from the pressure, a sound that Toji deeply appreciates, the groan he releases at the needy sound sending delicious vibrations through you. Your hips twitch, your thighs going to lock around his head, his hands hold you open. They hold you so open that if he hadn’t just switched from sucking on your clit to fucking his tongue inside your cunt, you might have cared about how lewd the display was.  

Vaguely, you’re aware of the mess he’s making, his saliva and your pussy leaking onto his bed in an absolutely debauched display, “Toji– ah– it’s messy,” you manage to force out.

He grunts into you, his nose rubbing against your clit, he’s not at all concerned with the mess, in fact, he’s fucking in love with it. Pulling back for a moment, he nips your thigh, “Mhmm let’s see just how fuckin messy you can get, doll.”

His words make your insides twist in such a filthy way, his words have an effect on you that you wish you didn’t find so delicious but unfortunately your body is a traitor and you can’t help the way your hole clenches around nothing. Something that Toji takes note of because of fucking course he does, he doesn’t say anything but he hums thoughtfully.

Grabbing higher on your thighs, he puts his mouth back on you, drinking down your slick, relishing in the taste of you. Fuck the goddamn brownies he thinks, this is what a real good sleepover needs.

Blunt nails bite into your skin, the feeling has you buzzing, your hips jerking against his face. Unaware of how you’re desperately rutting into him, seeking more friction, movements needy and so unrestrained. Pleasure addled brain not feeling shame, only Toji’s mouth, his tongue.

The sloppy sounds of him making out with your cunt filling the room, a sound that burns through you, sounding so wet, so ruined, how are you meant to make it out alive when he’s licking at you like a man on the brink of death seeking salvation. Small moans and grunts leaving him at the way you twitch and gush into his mouth, his own pleasure from this immense.

He forces your legs up and apart even wider, something you didn’t think possible, you don’t even know how you’re bending like this. Your fingers are tugging at his bed sheets, your brain fuzzy, your feet feel hot as your orgasm approaches. Gasping out to Toji as your high starts in the tips of your toes and travels up.

Your undoing is the way Toji shakes his head between your legs, his nose rubbing against your clit. Your pussy seizing around his tongue, as he realises you’re cumming, he’s pulling his tongue out of you and latching his mouth onto you instead, drinking you down as you cum into his mouth.

The moan you let out is pornographic and a sound you don’t even really register as something you’re able to do. The way he’s ruined you with his mouth delights him, feeling like he’s on cloud nine at the way you sound so pathetic for him, fucked out from just this much.

He fears he’s going to want to push you so much farther, just how do you look after he’s given you so many orgasms you cry? But fuck as he looks at you in the eyes now, he thinks it wouldn’t take much to make you cry for him at all, your eyes already so so wet for him.

Suddenly he’s struck with the memory of how placid and dazed you looked after he kissed you, he’ll have to remember this for the future too. Now having plans for kissing you until you cry for him, he thinks it might be possible…yeah, looking in your eyes, he definitely feels it possible.

Leaning down over you, he kisses you deeply, just so you can taste yourself on him. You’re hazy brain reciprocates, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him down into you, wanting his weight on you. Kissing him makes your heart soar, never sick of his lips, never sick of him.

Trailing kisses from your mouth to your cheek and down your jaw, he speaks into your ear, “Still want it? Or was this enough for you?”

“Never enough, Toji… always want more of you,” the words are murmured back to him, still slightly absent, floating after your orgasm.

“Greedy huh?” He teases, though he has a feeling you might actually be a needy little thing, not that he minds.

Your head tucks into his chest, “Don’t be mean…”

“Why? Don’t you like it?”

You shake your head against him, telling him no, you don’t like it.

He knows it’s a lie though, “You sure? You could’ve had me fooled…” He pulls up and back, looking down at you, his fingers sliding through your folds, collecting your wetness and spreading it all over your cunt, “…Making an awful big mess for this mean man.”

Your hips wiggle against him, “Hah– Toji~”

He’s still playing with your pussy, never touching you exactly how you need him to, his fingers just grazing your clit before circling your hole and then back up, “Hmm? Need something?”

You’re reluctant but you don’t have the strength to fight him, choosing instead to give in quickly and hope he shows mercy, “You…please…”

“Me? But I’m so mean to you…” he’s smiling, frankly, too large, enjoying teasing you like this.

“That’s –hah–  true…” your words are spoken through choked gasps, Toji’s still teasing you evilly, “S-should I find ah– someone nicerrr?”

“Oh?” oh, he did not like that, “Should you find someone nicer?”

You don’t know how to reply, “I… uhm…”

“Maybe you should…” his hand slaps against your cunt lightly, the sound of your wet pussy loud in the otherwise quiet room, “But would they make you this fuckin wet? Doll, you really should be more honest with yourself.”

Through your immense embarrassment, you mutter out, “I’m sorry.”

His fingers switch to stroking at you, fingers circling your pussy hole, “I know you are, now say how horny your boyfriend makes you…”

You start off strong, “Toji, you make me…”

“What was that? Didn’t quite catch it all,” one of his fingers probes at you, pushing in slightly, he seems to have gotten distracted, “Look at the way your pussy sucks my finger in, needy fuckin thing.”

Forcing yourself, you rush out, “You make ah– mehorny, Toji~”

“Don’t I fuckin know it,” he laughs wistfully, eyes on your cunt and how his finger is gently fucking into you.

You’re getting frustrated, you want to feel full, you want him inside you, you want him to do something more. You want him to show mercy or pity or something, anything that will have him shoving his cock inside you.

“I want–”

He cuts you off, voice curt, “–Why should I care what you want? I’m mean, remember?

“No nononono, you’re so –ah nice to me, Toji. Always treating me so nicely, make me so happy,” you’re desperate but you’re also not lying.

“That so?”

Nodding your head, you add, “Mhm, yeah, make me feel so cared for.”

He sounds amused, “Changed your mind pretty quick there, doll.”

“I want you inside me,” you all but sob out.

He coos at you, “I am inside you.” His finger pumps, curling upwards, stroking your inner walls in a way that makes your stomach seize with pleasure.

Shaking your head, you whinge, “Want your –mmph.”

He’s smiling too large for someone who’s feigning ignorance, “Want my what?”

“Please fuck me, Toji,” you look at him with wet eyes, pleading with him, “please pleasepleaseplease.”

The sight of you begging for him to fuck you has him folding embarrassingly quickly but you look like you could cry and he’s suddenly not got the strength to tease you anymore. “Alright, doll,” he hushes you; you’re still pleading quietly with him.

He eases his finger out of you, his hands tugging your shirt off quickly before pulling his towel off. Leaning down, he presses soft kisses to your head, trying to make up for how worked up he got you, maybe he should’ve been nicer to you for your first official time together.

“I’m okay… I’m fine.”

He moves back to look you in the eye, “You sure?”

Nodding, “Mhm, yeah, promise,” you smile up at him and he thinks you look beautiful right now.

“Alright… Remember to breathe through it.”

And at the time that comment had seemed incredibly egotistical of him but as he’s pressing the tip of his cock into you, you understand his advice a little bit more. It wasn’t his ego talking, it was his experience and concern and you find your lungs stuttering as you struggle to intake breath as he stretches you open.

“Breathe, doll, relax,” he reminds, his thumb circling your clit, trying to get you to relax for him.

You’re practically choking his dick, your cunt fluttering around him, he can’t move the tiniest bit forward without the grip you have on him increasing. Your small moans and gasps making it difficult for him to maintain focus, he’s trying to be so careful, he knows how big he is and as much as he jokes about being mean, the absolute last thing he’d want to do is hurt you.

“Honey, you need to relax,” he’s trying to keep his tone even and soothing but he sounds strained, his focus continually drawing back to your pussy and how you’re trying so hard to take him, “Taking me so well, just breathe for me.”

His voice praising you and being so kind makes your heart ache, his free hand strokes up and down your thigh, calming. Finally, you ease up slightly and he slips deeper, the sounds you both let out are ones of relieved pleasure, the pain ebbing away. You want him deeper; your legs wrap around his waist and you tug him down into you.

You don’t get to pull him in that far, his hand moving to your pelvis and holding himself back, “Doll,” it comes out through gritted teeth, his restraint wavering, “I know it feels good –holy fuck– I know but you’re going to hurt yourself if you force it.”

You sigh out, “Wan it.”

“You think I don’t?” He snipes back.

“Wanna feel full, Toji.”

His eyes look dark, full of promise, “You will.”

It’s a process, taking all of him, he pulls his hips back and fucks you carefully on just about half his cock, taking it slow. He’s already getting lost in pleasure, it runs up his spine and into his limbs. Slowly but surely, he opens you up on his dick, eventually fucking you full of him.

The moment he bottoms out and can fully press up against you has you keening into him, your nails on his back and your legs hugging him close. Before he picks a pace, he holds steady for a moment, enjoying your skin on his, the feeling of your snug cunt wrapped around him sinfully tight. Quite frankly, he can’t move too soon, he might blow his load deep inside you before he can manage to get you to cream on his cock and that would be an awful shame.

You don’t know what he’s waiting on, he’s so fucking big inside you, tip kissing your cervix, he’s pressing up against all the most perfect spots but he’s just laying on top of you. He’s kissing your cheek and stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. He’s being so tender with you and if you weren’t so desperate and dazed, you’d find it more endearing but right about now, you just want him to fuck you within an inch of your life.

Sick of the wait, you rut up into him, grinding pitifully against him, “Move…” you huff out before tacking on a pretty “please,” for good measure.

“Just a moment more, honey,” he hums, nosing at the side of your face, “Be patient.”

He’s twitching inside you and he feels so fucking hot and heavy and you’re not able to think straight. You want it so bad and he’s not giving it to you, he’s been so mean. You’re gushing around him so obscenely, your cunt drooling on him and the bed, the mess you’re making getting worse by the second but all you can think about is how good just the weight of him inside you is and if he doesn’t move you’re going to fucking cry.

Regretfully, you choke on a small sob, “I’ve been so patient though.”

Oh, and the sound of you so pathetic makes Toji nearly dump all his cum inside your tight cunt in that same second and when he pulls back to look at you the sight is no better. You’ve actually begun shedding a couple tears over him not fucking you and if he were a better man he would be ashamed over just how turned on he gets from it. But he’s not a better man, and he’s mean.

“Aw honey,” he coos at you, cruelly, “Crying over my dick?”

“Please, be nice to me?”

He kisses you hotly, tongue in your mouth, his kiss devouring and full. He nips you a little as he pulls back, “And how do I do that?”

You frown at him, somewhat exasperated and on the brink of sobbing, “Fuck. Me.”

“Anything for you, doll,” he smiles at you in an unkind way.

He says that but he’s been such a bastard and a tease tonight, you want to say something in reply about how he’s not made it feel like that but the heavy drag of his cock pulling from you and slamming back in very suddenly has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, choked moans forcing themselves from you.

The pace he sets is brutal and the sight of you going so stupid so soon has a dark chuckle leaving him, extremely pleased with himself and the state of you. Your cunt seems to love him a lot, sucking him right back in the second he leaves, he wasn’t lying earlier, you really do take him so well.

So responsive and so fucking wet, walls soft and gooey and soaked. A part of him thinks he may have died and gone to heaven because there’s no way a feeling like this exists on the awful planet he’s currently living on but then he looks down at you and hears the way you sigh and moan for him and he remembers that you are very real and he is very much alive.

Every time he pulls his dick from you and shoves it back inside, more of your slick gushes from you and onto the bed and of course he’s going to tease you for it, “Got such ah– messy pussy, doll.”

You whinge at him, not enjoying his observation but that also makes him chuckle because he didn’t mean it in a bad way. There isn’t anything about fucking you that is bad to him, you’re divine, thighs twitching and cunt fluttering on him deliciously. He’d say he could die a happy man right now but he thinks before that can happen he needs to have the sinful sight of you creaming on his cock burned into his memory.

His pace is dizzying, are you even still present? He’s in so deep it almost hurts, your head moves to the side, tears slipping from your eyes again but for completely different reasons. The pleasure you’re feeling overwhelming in more ways than just one. Is sex meant to feel like this? If it is, you’ve been doing it wrong.

Toji’s hand pulls your face back to him, “Keep your –hnng– eyes on me.”

“I ha– can’t, it’s toooo much,” you whimper to him, the sound of it making his dick twitch.

He shakes his head at you, “Be good and just do as I say.”

You’ll try, you will but keeping your eyes from rolling back is so hard and his eye contact is so intense and you’re already so fucking close to cumming like this. You see the moment Toji realises this, his eyes lighting up and his pace quickening.

“Fuck,” he curses at the way you tighten around him, it slows his pace slightly, making it harder for him to fuck you through it, “Fuckfuckfuckfuck.”

“Toji, I hah–”

“I know,” he grunts, “Go on, doll, soak me.”

God he sounds wrecked, his words send you over the edge and you cum all over his dick, your cunt seizing on him. Slick coating his cock, white, creamy ring forming at the base of him. His eyes lock onto the sight, enjoying the obscene display, relishing in it. It was everything he fucking wanted and more. He could make you cum on his dick for hours, just to see how sticky and messy you could make him.

The pitiful little whimpers of his name that you let out and the tears staining your cheeks have him almost cumming inside you. At the last second he pulls out and furiously jacks himself off, his dick twitching as he releases all over your pussy, aiming at your lower stomach and cunt, next time he’s going to remember to ask if he can cum inside because that’s the only thing that could’ve made this better for him. Distantly, he thinks it might not be too late to ask.

“Hey, honey…” you hum out at him and he continues, “You on birth control?”

It takes you a second, like your brain is buffering, “Mhm.”

At your answer, he begins scooping his cum up with two fingers and gently pushing it inside your perfect pussy. His attention completely and fully on the way you twitch and try to push out what he stuffs inside you. It makes you whine; you’re feeling incredibly sensitive, your legs try to close but he keeps them open, not done watching yet.

“So fuckin messy,” he comments.

You sulk out at him, “Stop.”

He laughs at your objection, “Sorry, doll.” He leans down and kisses your cheek softly; a stark contrast to how he fucks.

You’re not completely present still, fighting the urge to sleep, Toji’s bed is soft but you notice that his warmth isn’t nearby and you try to push yourself up, only half succeeding. Toji walks back into the room, sweats low on his hips and a cup of water in his hand. He helps you into a full sitting position.

“Drink this,” he hands you the cup and you take it with two hands, feeling weak and shaky. He’s smiling so fondly at you.

Quickly, he goes to the bathroom to find and dampen a washcloth. Once he’s back in the room, he cleans you up carefully, first he wipes your tear-stained cheeks, trying so hard to be gentle. Then he moves to wipe your skin of his and your own cum.

You’re still holding the now empty cup as you sit and sway slightly. He plucks it from your grasp and places it on the nightstand before discarding the washcloth. On his way back to you he finds the shirt of his you had on previously, slipping it back on you. You’re completely pliant like this, eyes barely open, he gets into bed behind you, his front to your back.

“Did such a good job,” he whispers into your ear, kissing you there.

“I think…” you lean back into him more, snuggling in, “You nearly killed me.”

“I went easy on you,” he murmurs back. It’d be funny if you thought he was joking but you have a nagging feeling that he is not.

PLAGIARISM NOT CONDONED | REPOSTS NOT AUTHORISED

[princeoftheeternalbog]

OP characters reacting to you kissing them and running away :) PART TWO🤸 (here is part 1) established relationship ish.

Some lovely person requested Shanks, Benn, Doffy and Crocodile! I decided to include Shanks, Benn, Crocodile, Jinbei, Mihawk, Rayleigh and Buggy (the old man brigade tbh).

I did try to write for doflamingo but I hate him so much I just couldn't do it😭😭.

Might be suggestive so mdni!

Shanks

Tbh depends on what side you do it.

If it's his left side then he just notes it in his head so he can get pay back later. If its his right side you're done for.

Immediately snatches you as soon as you try to run away, "Oho what do we have here? a thief?", gets right in your face with this cocky ass smirk that kinda makes you want to slap him and also makeout. Also his grip is intense, you will not be able to wiggle out. After he lost his arm he had to be able to make up that strength so yk.

Benn

Side eye. He looks at you so disapprovingly that you just apologise immediately instead of trying to run away...however this was a trap and he uses the opportunity to SNATCH you off the ground and into his arms. Laughs if you scream tbh. He always has to have the last laugh and he plays dirty, and somehow you manage to fall for these tricks almost every time so he enjoys this immensely. He doesn't even care how "unfair" it is, afterall you're so easy to tease so why would he not indulge-

Buggy

Screams in outrage.

"HOW CAN YOU DO THAT AND JUST RUN AWAY" chases after you😞 really aggressively😞.

Tbh it's kinda cute like in hindsight because it makes him really flustered but like in the moment its like WHAT THE FUCK. yk yk. You better hope he doesn't catch you because he will not be merciful in his pay back, though he would never hurt you. Hes just not used to pda and he definitely has cuteness aggression so he just wants to bite you when you're so sweet to him.

Crocodile

You don't get away.

The second you lean in his arm is curling around your waist to hold you still while he puts all his focus into kissing you back, it's literally like one hand cradling your jaw while he licks into your mouth. He doesn't care if anybody else is there, in fact he enjoys it because he gets to show off that you are his partner. After that he'll keep you with him for as long as possible, doesn't care if you have stuff to do and he absolutely will manhandle you if you try to leave😭.

Mihawk

Lets you run away, like he'll follow you but he just walks and it's somehow way scarier than being caught straight away😟. The look he gives you as you start to step back just makes your stomach flip and your knees go weak. He turns it into some horrifying game which is basically just him stalking you like a predator (👁️👁️). Somehow manages to lead you into a dead end even though you're the one in front ???? "Oh dear, it seems you made a wrong turn hm?". Absolutely will stop if you start getting uncomfortable, he just enjoys teasing you.

Jinbei

Really playful and sweet :(. Laughs so loud because he's surprised and just watches you run off. He will absolutely do the same thing back and it's just so unexpected that it usually makes you forget about whatever you were supposed to be doing. Tries to catch you sometimes depending on his mood, like he'll straight up snatch you from the ground so he can hold you in his arms, HES SO CUTE :(. Also I think he blushes very easily even though he's quite cool-headed.

Rayleigh

Another playful one, tries to catch you in like a non scary way and is absolutely willing to make a fool of himself to make you laugh. Though if he thinks you're doing it in order to tease him then he will give the same energy back. Like he won't give you time to run away, he just steps into your little personal bubble and his hands settle on your waist like steel, "Leaving so soon honey?" RAHHH SHUT UP!!!! He's so fine and he knows it and it makes him despicable.

[fangirl-dot-com]

Fernando Alonso - I Love My Grandpa

Wow it feels like this series is flying! After this chapter, we only have two more to go. Like – that’s crazy to me, never would have thought that one simple story idea would lead to something like a multichapter work with spin offs and extras! This one might be a little bit shorter so I apologize! I’m honestly just trying to get back onto the next chapters! 

All of you readers have helped me get to where we are with this entire work and I promise to be a good author! 

[TAG LIST IS CLOSED]

Like always, comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Much love <3 

You sighed as you walked around the paddock. Bored out of your ever-loving mind. Max was off in some meeting, Charles was hidden in the Ferrari garage (one you hadn’t found out how to infiltrate, the Italians are menaces to societies), Lando and Oscar are late, Alex decided to go off with Lily and NOT invite you, and Logan was sleeping. Which, in hindsight, was probably what you needed to be doing, but you were restless. 

You’d been out of the car for one of the small breaks and were just itching to get back into driver. But no. 

You were stuck in the paddock. 

Alone. 

You thought about bothering Mitch, but like most adults, she was working for the race this coming weekend. Boo-hoo. You knew that Christian could give you something to do, but that would mean an old lady job like filing. Or honestly, it wouldn’t but you didn’t want to give Christian any ideas. 

Now, you were stuck, scrolling through one of your multiple social media apps, on the hospitality roof. Your headphones were on, blocking out the world. You swiped out of Instagram and clicked on TikTok. 

Maybe you should have bothered the social media personnel. They seemed to always look for drivers to make new videos. You quickly stood up. If they wouldn’t find you, you would do it yourself. Glancing over the railing, your eyes danced along the grid. Who could you approach and force to make a TikTok with? 

Your eyes widened at the sight of the emerald green that flashed below. A smirk grew on your face as you quickly left the roof to go down to the pitlane. Once out in the sun, you made your way over the garage. 

You knew better than Max to wear the Red Bull clothing on days that it was not needed. So you blended in, kind of. You glanced around for the one driver that you knew would make a video with you. He wasn’t named “public figure of the year” for nothing. Even though it was only for Spain, it still counted. 

You walked up to a group of mechanics, suddenly feeling confident. 

“Do you know where I could find Fernando?” your voice echoed through the empty garage. They suddenly stopped what they were doing and looked at you. You felt small under their gaze, but held eye contact. 

One of them sweetly smiled and said that Fernando should be watering plants around the pit. You quickly thanked him and left the garage, a tight grip on your phone. You would get this video and be TikTok famous. 

Your only goal in life. 

You snorted at your thought. That was definitely not your goal in life, but it was one of them. Looking for the Spaniard was harder than you thought. You thought you had gone to every single garage on the planet, and he was nowhere to be found. 

At one point, you ran into several of the other drivers. And when you say ran into, it was quite literally. It wasn’t your fault that Max decided to step in front of you when you were speed walking past Red Bull. 

The impact was more than you thought, as you found yourself on the hot asphalt. You gazed up at the Dutchman, sun getting into your eyes. You pulled yourself up and stood next to him. Max still looked as though he was recovering from your hit. 

Before he could say anything though, you blurted out, “Have you seen Fernando?” 

Max had a bewildered look on his face. Why would you be looking for Fernando? From behind you, Charles suddenly appeared, eating what you think were some sort of chips. 

Right, Max never went anywhere without Charles and Charles never went anywhere without Max. Maybe for secret Santa, you’d get them one of those giant shirts for them to wear. 

Through his bites, Charles managed to get out, “I saw him earlier at hospitality.” 

You clapped him on the shoulders. “Good man. Thank you.” You quickly reached into his bag of snack, grabbed whatever your fingers could feel, and dashed away, stuffing your face. 

The Monégasque and Dutchman just stared as you bolted from the both of them. 

“What was that?” Max asked, as Charles looked down at his bag with whine.  

“She took the last of my snack.” 

Max shook his head. “Come on. We’ll get you more snacks. Red Bull doesn’t go over cost cap on catering for nothing!” 

The two drivers disappeared, leaving the various employees questioning what they just witnessed. 

As for you, you were still on your journey. You climbed the stairs once again, putting yourself right back where you started. And low and behold. 

There he was. In all his glory. 

Watering the plants?  

He must have sensed your presences, or heard you gasping for air since you took the stairs. But you wouldn’t talk about that. 

He sent you a welcoming smile and beckoned you over. You gingerly stepped closer to the plant that he was showering. You cocked your head, not knowing what else you were supposed to do. Your eyes were wide as you looked at the nice flowers that had bloomed. You decided to talk first. 

“Do you water all of the plants?” 

A deep chuckle escaped Fernando’s lips. He had watched you look with a puzzled face. 

“Not all of them. Just the ones that look like they need something extra,” he gave you a wink before turning back to his task. You took this moment to look around. At the opposite edge of the roof, there was a smaller plant that looked as if it had seen better days. 

You grabbed one of the water bottles that Fernando had near him and opened it as you cracked the seal. You carefully poured the water over the small plant. Watching, you noticed how the dirt seemed to just drink it up. 

This was actually pretty nice: having to share a quiet space with someone. You made your way over to a few more plants before walking back over. It seemed as though Fernando was done as well. 

You went to speak, but was interrupted with a growl from your stomach. Quickly looking at your phone, the time shocked you as it was already past lunch. Fernando quietly laughed. 

“Lunch?” 

You grinned widely at the suggestion. The two of you made your way down to the hospitality cafeteria. It was pretty empty, since the lunch hour had passed for multiple people. You walked up to the line, ordered, grabbed your food, and found a nice table near the back by a window. It reminded you of the first lunch you had with Mitch. 

Fernando sat across from you. You liked his energy. 

“So,” he spoke first, “I heard from one of my mechanics that you were looking for me?” He raised his eyebrow. 

Your cheeks flushed as you bit into your sandwich. You quickly swallowed to answer. “Uh, I was bored and I wanted to make a TikTok. But everyone was busy, so I thought I’d try to find you.” Your shoulders raised in a shrug. 

You found yourself doing that quite a bit. 

The Spaniard looked at you. “You couldn’t find someone younger? I’m just wondering why you’d come to me first?” 

“Well, uh, there were some mechanics not working, but I really judge people of how I feel around them. They kind of gave off a busy vibe that I didn’t like. But you have more of a calm, grandpa kind of vibe.” You sipped your water. “I mean, if you thought that your career in Formula 1 being longer than Oscar has been alive, it’s worse with me. You’re 24 years older than me.” 

Fernando looked like his body took a screen shot. 

You quickly put out your arms, trying to console the driver. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. It’s nice to have someone who’s older. I really looked up to you as a kid, and I still do.” You twisted your fingers nervously and Fernando could see that. 

“It’s not an issue niña. I’m honored to have someone like you that looks up to me. But let’s maybe not talk about the ages.” You giggled quietly as his scrunched face.  

“It’s kind of hard not to think about it when everyone calls me kid,” your face also scrunched, same as Fernando. “I’m glad that Oscar and Logan don’t do that, but even Lando has started.” You pretended to cry. “He’s only 3 years older.” Your head hit the table.  

He kind of just watched you go through the five stages of grief. If there was one thing he knew about kids, it was to just let them go through the motions. Your head quickly shot up as you took inhaled.  “Can we make a TikTok now?”  

A small laugh left his lips. “Sure, we can. Did you have an idea?”  

Your hands reached for your phone, unlocking it quickly.  “Uh, I had a couple of ideas, but, I think one would be really funny. I’ve been seeing some comments about how you act like our grandpa sometimes, so this audio would be funny, even if it says dad.”  

You played the video, the voice filling the space around you. “I get it you’re all fatherless…I’m not, I love my dad.”  Fernando let out a chuckle as your eyes lit up at the funny sound.  

You continued, “I’d just put words over it so that it would say ‘grandfatherless’ instead.”  

“Sounds like a good plan.”  

The two of you left the cafeteria to film the segments of the video. Because of time change and wherever you were in the world, it got a bit dark while you were eating. You carefully filmed your part a couple of times before it was deemed acceptable. You guessed that Fernando had done a lot of these because he was basically a pro.

You captioned it “Honorary Gramps” and posted it with Fernando’s approval.  

Before you knew it, Max had come to get you.  

You went to leave, before turning around and jumping to give Fernando a hug. “Thanks Grandpa-Nando.”  

You stepped back to walk away with Max, who had a smirk on his face. He called back to the older man.  

“Does this mean we get to call you that?” Max bit back a laugh.

 Fernando shook his head. “Absolutely not.”  

You whacked Max on the shoulder, “Hey, that’s only reserved for Red Bull’s golden child.”  

Max had a weird look on his face. “I thought that was me?”  

You shook your head before walking past him. “You have so much to learn Maxy. Let’s go find Christian.”

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[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Change

childhood best friend!soap x reader

There was nothing better than a family get together than at the MacTavish household. There was always an abundance of good food that you got to partake in because according to Johnny's mother, "You're just as much as family as Johnny is."

You tried to ignore the way you always got butterflies in your stomach when she implied you and Johnny we're practically dating, and instead waved it off to the fact that the two of were best friends.

Everyone in the family knew you and Johnny seemed to pride in that fact. He beamed when someone said they were happy to see you for another party and when they said they hoped to see you again.

You thought everyone knew you until he showed up.

It was a normal get together until one of Johnny's cousins, who was much older than the two of you and one that you had maybe seen once or twice in your entire time of knowing Johnny, showed up.

At first you didn't think much of it, especially when everyone was happy to see him.

"There's the kid. Steamin' Jesus, you've grown," he greeted Johnny when a big hug.

He didn't pay much attention to you.

Instead he talked Johnny's ear off. Caught up with him as if the two talked regularly, told him a couple stories about his recent military excursions, which explained the absences, and joked with him.

You tried to join in, showing interest since Johnny was and since it was his family, but they talked over you, as if they both had forgotten you there.

As if Johnny had forgotten all about you.

It stung a little but you couldn't blame him, it was his cousin. This was a family get together he had a right to spend it with his actual family and not you.

So instead you left them alone without excusing yourself and talked to someone else. You got more food, played games with his other younger cousins, and eventually found yourself anxiously waiting alone.

It was late and you were supposed to be back home because you had to be up early tomorrow. Johnny was supposed to drive you, but after waiting for nearly an hour and a half, you came to the conclusion that he had forgotten.

"Oh, pet are you still here?" His mother gave a concerned look but you gave her a weak smile. "He's still talking with his cousin..."

You just shrugged. You were more hurt now and too afraid to open your mouth in case it gave it away.

It was his cousin, you reminded yourself. He hadn't seen him a long time.

"I can take ya home, it's dark out." His mother offered but you shook your head.

"It's not a far walk."

You didn't miss the worried look she gave you or the underlying annoyance she had in her eyes that wasn't directed towards you.

You closed your back door when Johnny called you. You didn't say anything when you answered.

"Mam said you walked home, I thought I was taking ya?" He asked immediately and you clenched your jaw.

"It's fine." You dismissed him with the best neutral voice you could.

On the inside you were hurt. He ignored you all evening and only said something to you as soon as you were gone. You weren't sure if you wanted to tell him off or just brush it under the rug.

"Anyway, I wanted to tell ya that I'm going Herefordshire with ma cousin this weekend-"

"I thought we were going to the lake this weekend?"

Silence. You could feel and hear your heartbeat in your ears your vision slowly blurring.

"No, that's not-oh it was this weekend." He sounded almost...disappointed by the thought.

You were ready to just end the night.

"It's fine," you lied and swallowed the lump in your throat.

"You sure?"

You wanted to say no, that you were a little hurt and pissed off he not only ignored you the entire evening but was now ditching the plans the two of you had made weeks in advance, but you didn't.

In hindsight it wouldn't have made a difference.

"Yeah." You lied again.

"Thanks, bonnie!" You could hear the smile on his face. "I'll see ya at school tomorrow."

"Okay-"

Johnny ended the call before you could even say anything.

You spent the rest of the night in your room clutching your bunny very close to your chest, unable to sleep due to your racing mind.

masterlist

A/N: i took some inspo from his wiki

[dmgloom]

@yamujiburo this is very much your fault that I had to make this at 4am, but here we are.

The hoot-hoot clock on the wall ticked away the early morning hours as Jessie sat up reading on the couch. It was one of those restless nights where her brain kept reminding her of her various screw-ups. Once, she would have channeled that energy into devising some new caper with James and Meowth, but now they were upstanding citizens- the boys assisting Sam with his research, and Jessie…

Well, here she was, reclined on a couch she helped pick out, living in the house she shared with her wife and her stepson. How much of a screw-up could she really be? Take that, brain.

She only caught herself smiling when it was startled from her face by an unexpected voice.

"Da- Jessie," Ash started from the hallway. "...do you have a minute?"

He called her Dad most of the time because she pretended to be annoyed by it and it was hilarious. To hear him use her name… maybe she had screwed up and the kiddo was about rain down thunderous judgement. Between Delia's cooking and her relative lack of activity- criminal or otherwise- she wasn't sure she was spry enough to go blasting off again.

…But looking at Ash framed in the doorway, she could tell that wasn't the case. He looked small - he was small- only a few years out from the grandest of his adventures when he was ten years old. But he always seemed larger than life, so full of spark and spunk and an eagerness… stuff she'd thought she'd lost long ago. In hindsight, she'd been jealous. But now he looked uncertain. Maybe even afraid.

"What's up, twerp?" She said it warmly- it'd became a term of endearment between them now, though she'd never say it in front of Delia. She folded her book closed and sat up, patting the seat on the couch beside her in invitation. Ash hesitated, looking for a moment like he wanted to flee, but then crossed the room and sat down next to her. "Ash… what's wrong?"

He was quiet for a long moment. Fidgeting with something in his fingers. One of his older badges, worn but well-maintained. A small, bright, multicolored flower turned over between his digits again and again as he gathered his words.

"Do you remember… Celadon City Gym?" He asked finally.

She thought for a moment. Gyms weren't usually her scene, though she'd definitely been to a few, and with Ash… ah. The fire. "Gosh we really bunged that one up. I'm glad no one got hurt." She leaned forward and grasp his arm in sudden realization, "Ash you could've been killed, I'm… I'm sorry."

He smiled and shook his head. "No, not that part. Though I'm glad you aren't blowing stuff up any more." His brief sunny smile slipped back into melancholy. "No I mean, before that. When you helped me get in. With the disguise."

"Oh! That!" Jessie said, relieved, "definitely rushed but some of our better work, if I do say so myself. What about it?"

"I just… nevermind, it's stupid." He moved to stand, but Jessie held him back by his arm.

"Whatever it is, it's not stupid," she said firmly. "Tell me." She relaxed her grip and smiled up at him what she hoped was reassuringly "Please? It'll be okay."

He hesitated again, searching her face for… something, before sitting back down. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed.

"Being Ashley… was fun," he said. "I thought it was just the excitement of sneaking in, and it was that, too but… I don't know, it was… easy?" He shook his head. "I think… I wanted to talk to you… and maybe James? I know he… uh… dresses up a lot. Or did." Ash flushed red as Jessie let him talk. She could tell he'd been thinking pretty hard about this- she was touched that he felt he could come to her, with this or indeed at all. She wasn't really sure where she stood with him most of the time, but now… she couldn't help but smile.

"James and I would be happy to talk about anything you wanted, Ash," she said. "I know it probably hasn't been easy- Pallet is kind of a backwater- and you're kind of a high-profile kid… Anyway, we're both here for you, I can wrangle the boys tomorrow and we can send Meowth off to run some errands, if that's what you want."

"Okay," he said. He seemed relieved already, if a bit still uncertain. "Do you think… do you think you could keep this a secret from Mom for now? I don't want to disappoint her."

Jessie gave him a sharp look. "Kiddo, your mother could never be disappointed in you. She almost broke up with me when I said that Riley kid had maybe filled out a bit better than you at the last Indigo awards ceremony." Ash chuckled and she smiled again. "But. I won't tell her if that's what you want. We can talk to her together, when you're ready, if that's what you want."

He nodded and she ruffled his hair. "Alright, get your butt in bed. It's… ouch, almost 4am."

He stood and walked toward the hall, toward his room. He paused in the doorway, filling it more than he had before, somehow.

"Thanks, Dad," he said, and smiled.

"Goodnight… Ashley." She winked. A bit of a nudge, perhaps, but his smile widened as he disappeared down the hall.

[macabr3-barbi3]

Pillow Talk- Vox x Reader

(Banner made by my love, @fraugwinska 💛❤️💛)

A Vee Tower maid, you get an eyeful- and more- when stuck hiding in Vox's closet after Alastor comes back to town.

Tags: the Alastor body pillow; Dry Humping? I think that's what it would be; Accidental Voyeurism; Cunnilingus; One-Sided Alastor/Vox; Vaginal Sex; improper use of electricity lol; maid outfit; a tiny bit of hypnosis but not regarding the sex

[this is almost a crack fic honestly I laughed way too much writing it xD this was inspired by a few pieces of art- as soon as I can find the artists I'll link them below!]

So technically, you weren’t supposed to be here. The entire cleaning crew knew that the main apartments of the Vees were off limits unless they specifically asked for them to be serviced- you, specifically, would not be a welcome sight, especially by the CEO.

But when Vox had spotted you outside his office he had barely spared you a enough of a glance to get his hypnotic eye swirling before he had very explicitly stated, “I want every single thing in here put back where it belongs,” and apparently, to your will-bent limbs that meant even the fucking throw pillow on the couch needed to be returned to his home.

The blue striped fabric clutched in your arms, cleaning supplies left in one of the numerous cleaning closets, your feet took you to the elevator, pressing the button for the elevator to take you up to the penthouse. You were sweating a bit in your uniform- despite how little fabric the damn thing had (courtesy of Valentino deciding “if we have to fuckin’ look at them they might as well be hot” when hiring a cleaning crew, apparently) you were still nervous about going against established orders for implied ones. If Vox found out you had been in his section of the penthouse, in his room, Satan only knew what he would do to you.

That shouldn’t have excited you a little as you thought it, but it does- your breath comes a little quicker as you had entered the key code to Vox’s sector of the penthouse floor, thankfully empty as you enter and where you now stand. The television is playing something from the news, Vox sat at his desk with some sharp toothed red deer demon in the frame with him, mouth turned down into a frown and spewing vitriol- you caught some snippets of speech from the low volume, something about him being a fossil, outdated, et cetera. It wasn’t surprising- Vox and all of the Vees were all about innovation, updates, upgrades. If this guy was into older tech it made sense that he would take personal offense to that.

When you try to toss the cushion onto the couch your arm freeze, unwilling to release the fabric- which meant it wasn’t a couch pillow but a bedroom one, and your feet turn to take you in that direction. The door opens without a lock, and the room that greets you is a little neater than you would expect from the CEO of the company, being as prone to outbursts that the staff had to clean up as he was. The bed was made up, and finally your compelled brain allows you to throw the pillow out of your grasp to bounce harmlessly on the bed. Order satisfied, you’re about to turn to leave when the lights snap out with an audible click.

You freeze in the darkness, worried somehow that you’ve been caught, but they flicker on mere moments later. Another tentative step towards the door, and that’s when you hear it- a crackle of electricity from the living room, not unlike an arc flash, one that you’ve heard enough times working in this building to know what it means.

Vox is back.

In hindsight, it was fucking stupid. You probably had better luck explaining yourself, telling him that his command earlier had forced you up here against your better judgment because of course, Vox, sir, you knew that the penthouses were off limits. But your prey brain reverted to instinct, doe ears dropping against your head, and you bolted to the nearest safety- the closet. 

You can hear him coming closer, his voice increasing in volume- “that ancient fucker, thinks he can just come back to my fucking town, in my fucking section like he never- fucking dammit, Bambi, I can’t believe-” He just keeps going and you shuffle further back into the clothing around you, the smell of his soft cologne enveloping you as you descend. You can see light peeking through the slats of the doors, and it vanishes as he quickly approaches. The door flies open and you squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for a sharp clawed hand to land on your arm and haul you out but it never comes.

He grabs something close to you, something soft you had been inadvertently leaning against, and slams the closet door closed again so hard that it swings back open, another crack that light leaks through. Despite your better judgment you lean forward, peek through the slats of the door at what is happening in the room. He throws the item he had grabbed against the bed, and it bounces at an angle so that you can see what it is.

A body pillow- with that guy from the television on it, his red outfit unmistakable even not knowing who he was just from a quick glance. He wears a sly smile on his face, eyes half-lidded over a monocle, a frankly stupid haircut that came to his shoulders with tiny antlers peeking out of it. Vox is still bitching, and this time you catch a name: Alastor. Your boss kicks his shoes off, rips his jacket from his frame, and falls to his knees on the mattress, bringing the pillow close and slotting it between his thighs.

You stop breathing.

He falls forward and braces himself on one hand, the other scrambling at his fly to bring out an impressive erection that you can tell even from this distance must be painful, faintly glowing a bright blue at the tip before fading to the darker shade of his normal skin at the base. He strokes himself once, spreads what looks like a fair amount of precum over his length before he releases his grip and dips his hips into the pillow, now free hand clutching at the fabric between his fingers. 

“Alastor,” he moans, and the low timbre of it shoots straight through your core, thighs clenching together as you stand stockstill in the darkness of the closet. “Oh fuck, Alastor, Al- fuck, fuck,” and his hips are driving into the pillow all the while, the bright tip of his cock occasionally peeking into view from your vantage point. 

You bring a hand up to clamp over your mouth, to try and muffle your breathing as you watch the private act and shift closer to the wider gap in the doors for a better view- slowly, silently. His voice is dark and delicious as he groans into the seemingly empty room, unrestrained in his pleasure. The hand braced on the bed is shredding the sheets, bits of fabric floating up into the air with the force of his claws dragging into them- the one on the pillow is surprisingly gentle, clenched lightly where the hair is on the image of the demon that adorns it.

Your body aches at the apex of your thighs, slick and throbbing just at the sights and sounds before you- if you made it out of this, if Vox didn’t discover and immediately kill you for witnessing this, you were going to have the most phenomenal orgasm of your fucking afterlife the moment you could get yourself alone. You’ve never wanted to be a pillow so badly in all of your existence- Hell, you’ve never wanted to be a pillow period but Vox was making it look downright tantalizing to be shoved between his legs and thrust against. 

He’s still going, his lower body moving rhythmically against the pillow and still muttering under his breath- “Alastor, Alastor, Alastor,” like he’s in a trance, can’t stop himself from saying it. His voice catches in his throat, hips stuttering then stilling while shoved hard against the pillow, collapsing against the mattress with a frustrated groan.

Everything is quiet for a moment, the only sound your muffled breathing against your hand as you peek through the door at the VoxTek CEO. Your spare hand itches for movement at your side, but you refuse- absolutely refuse- to get yourself off in your boss’ closet with him less than five feet away. You fist your fingers in the poofy fabric of the Val-approved maid uniform that the crew was made to wear, and you wait.

When Vox pulls his head up from the mattress, his screen is tinted pink in embarrassment even thinking no one can see him- he looks down at the pillow with such an earnest expression of longing that you feel embarrassed and avert your gaze for a moment, until he scoffs and you look back up to a sight you’re more familiar with. His face is twisted in anger now, and his claws hover menacingly over Alastor’s face before he snarls in disgust- at himself? At the other man?- and clambers off the bed. You watch his body move across the room, lithe muscles flexing as he moves, and only when he exits the room do you heave out the breath you had been holding, taking your hand away from your mouth.

You hear the rushing sound of water that indicates that the shower has been turned on, and you make perhaps the dumbest decision you’ve ever made- you stay in the closet instead of taking these precious few moments of him being out of the room to book it out of the penthouse. You’re not thinking clearly, so preoccupied with the arousal that it wars inside your body with the logical part of your brain saying to get the fuck out. But you’re surrounded by the sweet, heady scent of his cologne, the rough sounds of his groaning still echoing in your ears, and with your eyes slipping closed you slide a hand up under your skirt; you didn’t end up in Hell by sticking to the concept of chastity, after all.

Your free hand fists in the fabric of his shirts that hang next to your face, bringing them closer to breathe in the scent of him. The sounds he made echo in your mind, your fingers brushing lightly against the dampness of your panties, hand dipping inside them to graze your clit-

The closet door flies open, the light falling across your body and illuminating what is clearly a shocking sight to the Overlord if the glitching of his screen is anything to go by- one hand holds the Alastor pillow in a death grip, obviously about to toss it back into the closet after wiping it down with a damp rag (the sink, you realize, not the shower), probably for one of your team members to properly clean later under an oath of secrecy. Your hand is up under your skirt, the other gripping his shirts for dear fucking life, and Satan’s fuck, he was absolutely going to kill you.

You both stand frozen for a moment, still too shocked to move your hands until you see the spark of static cross between his antennae. You let go of his shirts and remove your hand from under your skirt. “Sir,” you start, and your voice cracks on the word. “I’m-” 

“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps, and even without the swirl of his hypnotic eye your jaw clamps closed. He lets the Alastor pillow fall to the ground, both hands free now to open both closet doors, and you close your eyes- this was it, goodbye Hell, nice knowing you. At least you were going out with a hot image burned behind your eyelids of the guy that was going to murder you.

Instead you feel the sensation of your floppy ear being rubbed between two fingers, gentle and inquisitive. When an eye peeks open again, Vox is staring at them, his gaze flicking between your ears to the tiny white spots that line the edges of your face that he can now see with the increased light. “You a deer?” He asks, his tone dark, and you heave a shaky breath.

“Yes, sir.”

He hums, a quiet noise as his other hand comes up to rest softly on your waist. “Didn’t notice earlier. Thought I told the head cleaning bitch I didn’t want any fucking deer in my tower.”

You force yourself to breathe slowly. “I had great recommendations and she said she would just keep me out of your way.”

“Great recommendations, huh? Any of your previous employers know you fucking touch yourself watching people get off in what they assume is the privacy of their own homes?”

Instinct- you try to run rather than face his questions, only getting as far as an abortive jerk forward before both  of his hands are on your hips, pushing you further against the back closet wall. His scent is fucking everywhere, a faint heat coming off his screen with how close it is to your face, and you feel the threat of claws where he grips you. “Please, I’m sorry-”

“This for me?” Vox takes one hand off your waist to grab your hand- the one that had been under your skirt- and moves it back to its prior position, just pressing against the front of your damp panties. “Or was it the fact that you were being a little pervert and I was none the wiser? Tell the truth now, dear,” he says, his eye going black rimmed and swirling, and you’re helpless to answer.

“A bit of both, sir,” you breathe, and he looks pleased at your answer, pressing your fingers harder against the heated skin under your joined hands. The words don’t stop- “I didn’t mean to come here, sir, there was a pillow in your office- and you said everything had to go back where it belonged, so-”

“Gotcha, gotcha,” he nods. “The downsides of hypnotism, huh? But it’s gotten us into an interesting situation- how much of that did you see?” He tilts his head towards the pillow.

Deep breath. “All of it, sir.”

“You must think I’m pretty pathetic now, huh?” 

His eyes still spins lazily at you. “Not at all,” you say, and the pixels of his eyebrows twitch upwards. “I thought it was… alluring. Sexy, to watch you let yourself go like that.” You glance down at the pillow, a grimace taking over your mouth. “Admittedly a little gross that you aren’t like. Properly cleaning that. Were you just going to throw it back into the closet?”

His screen tints and he lets go of you, taking a step back to kick the pillow out of your line of sight. “I have a dry cleaning lady that comes on Saturdays,” he says defensively, “it would have only been in there like two days max.”

“Sir, that’s still kinda-”

He tugs you out of the closet by the wrist and pulls you over to the bed, sitting on the edge and pulling so that you straddle his lap. “You wanna keep calling me gross or do you wanna fuck me?” He grinds your hips down onto his and you feel the hard length of his arousal against you despite it being not more than a few minutes since he had finished with the pillow. 

“Can’t I do both?”

“Cause let me tell you,” he adds, talking over you, not picking up the barb, “the sooner I can get that fucker out of my head, the happier I’ll be as your boss. And a happy boss might not decide to kill or fire you for being a- what’s the lady equivalent of a Peeping Tom? Just a slut?”

“I’m not sure there is one, sir,” you say breathlessly, and his tongue snaking out of his mouth to trail along the length of your neck distracts you from his fingers reaching up under your skirt to slide your panties to the side, thumbing your clit with soft pressure.

“S’nice that you’re a deer,” he murmurs, the tingly sensation of his lips tracing a path down your collar, letting his tongue slip between the swell of your tits, pushed on display in this fucking uniform. “Just like- shit, do you have…?” His other hand comes under your skirt as well, reaches around the back to cup your ass, and at the base of your spine-

“Oh, fuck,” he whispers when he gets a grip on your tail, fingers tightening around it in a way that makes you cry out, high and trembling. “Fuck, I gotta-” He shifts the both of you, a quick motion that ends with you bent over the edge of the mattress while Vox flips your skirt up, exposes the cute fawn spots that covered your ass and thighs, the fluffy nub of your tail above the red lace of your panties.

“Fuckin’ red,” he mutters, mostly to himself, “just like him- what is it with fuckin’ deer and red? Do you all use the same style guide or something?” When you look back, there’s a note that appears on his screen- “ask Vel about deer style magazine?”- before he sees you watching and grins. “Might wanna hold onto something, doll,” he advises, and before you can ask him why his face is pressed against your rear, tongue slipping between the slick folds of your cunt and diving in.

The shock of it makes you yelp, immediately devolving into a moan that’s lost in the sheets when you bury your face into them. The slick muscle is long and strong, reaching deep and flicking against your inner walls with a fervor you’ve never had from a partner before. You try to grind your hips against the bed, the motion aborted when Vox’s large hands come up to your waist and hold you in place so he can lick into your pussy more efficiently, keeping you firmly against his screen. He moans at the taste of you and keeps you still with one hand, the other coming down to rub forcefully at your clit. You groan into the sheets, fingers fisting in the fabric and fuck, fucking finally,  pressure and friction where you wanted it. “Vox, sir, please,” you whine into the mattress, and he moans against you, the vibration of it from his screen adding a nice edge to the pleasure. “Please, please, please-”

Tongue still inside of you, you can hear his voice, broadcast from the speakers on his head- “I’m not sure you get to beg for anything, baby,” he says, and his tone drips sarcasm and amusement. “I could leave you high and dry and I would be well within my fucking rights- maybe I decide that perverts don’t get to cum.” His tongue starts to draw back, and when your walls clench down on him in protest he fucking laughs. “I guess fucking any deer will do, though- helps that you’re fucking cute, even if you don’t really look like-”

Like him. Like Alastor. It should have been insulting, and maybe a little terrifying that possibly the only thing keeping you from having been murdered on the spot when he opened that closet was that you were a fucking deer.

Logic had no place in your body right now, though; you’d been aroused for the better part of Satan only knew how long, and you would take what you could get. Maybe if you were lucky he would just fire you after he fucked you stupid. “Please,” you ask him again, not caring if you sound pathetic about it, and he does pull off your pussy now, leaves your soaked entrance clenching down on nothing. “Fuck, sir, please-” 

He chuckles and you hear the clinking of his belt behind you, loud in the quiet of his room that’s interrupted only by your soft moans into the mattress. “Don’t worry, Bambi,” he said, using the nickname for Alastor that he had spit in anger when he first came into the room. “I’ll give it to you- give it to you real fucking good.” His hand reaches above your head and grabs the pillow that had led you in here like a lamb to the slaughter, shifts your hips up enough to shove it under them while pressing against your back. You feel the hard line of his cock against your ass and resist the urge to grind back onto it, staying put until he decides to move.

“Ohh, look at that! That’s fucking cute,” he says, and there’s a hard grip on your tail, making you aware of the faint shakiness to the appendage in his grasp. “All twitchy and needy- you always get like this when you want a cock in you?”

Your response is a drawn out whine when he finally pushes in, and fuck- seeing it glow faintly against the pillow while he rutted to completion couldn’t have prepared you for having his cock inside of you, filling your cunt perfectly and still fucking going. Vox presses in slowly, methodically, until he’s buried balls deep and breathing heavily against your back. “Fuuuccckkk,” he groans, and the rumble of it through his chest makes your inner walls spasm around the hard length of him. “Oh fuck, baby, do that again,” he encourages, a hand squeezing at your tail, and what are you supposed to do? Not listen to him? You clench down and he chuckles, low and dangerous, and there are lips nipping at your skin where the shirt of your uniform leaves you exposed. “God fucking damn, Bambi, you’re just-” He pulls back, the drag of his dick inside of you leaving sparks of pleasure that burn behind your eyelids, and shoves back in, the tip of him bumping something soft and sweet inside you that makes the evidence of your arousal drip from where you’re connected. He sets a steady pace, and you wish you could fucking see him- watch him use your body for his pleasure like he had used the pillow, mindless with it, bucking his hips with reckless abandon.

A hand wraps around your throat, gently at first before the feeling of it makes you moan and he tightens his grip, thumb coming up to brush against your lips and smearing the drool that he finds there, having fallen unbidden from your mouth as you panted with your mouth open while he fucked you. “Making a mess of my sheets, huh? I like the sound of that- fucking the drool out of you while I fuck my cum into you-”

The keening cry you try to let out at that is garbled and broken with his hand squeezing your throat, the other still having a grand old time pulling on your tail, and fuck, you think you could cum just like this. “V-Vox, sir,” you manage to get out with the pressure on the sides of your neck, “please, gonna-”

“Gonna cum, baby?” He lets go of your throat and you fall forward onto the mattress, face burying in the sheets again and muffling your sounds- he brings his fingers to your clit to circle it while he fucks you, still pulling your tail, and everything inside of you feels like its tensing and electrified around your cunt where you’re stuffed full of him. “Come on, show me how- how fucking sorry  you are for getting caught with your hand down your panties.” He brings his face down next to yours, teeth snapping in your ear and licking up the side of your face at the tears that have leaked out. “Wanna fucking call me gross now, Bambi? When you’re about to cum on my cock like a goddamn slut- fuck, so close, it’s almost fucking perfect-”

Static sparks off his antennae, and you can almost feel the thrum of electricity though his body before it ends at his finger tips, shocking both your clit and the sensitive skin of your tail where he still holds it in a death grip- that’s all it takes for you to almost scream with your orgasm and drag him over the edge with you, a soft grunt of “Alastor, fuck, Al-” as he spends himself in long, hot pulses inside of you. Static still tingles lightly at his fingertips, causing tiny jolts of pleasure that make your muscles twitch and your walls flutter around Vox’s cock, drawing your release out until you’re almost overstimulated, trying to shift your hips out from under his body.

The hand on your tail tightens in warning. “Stay the fuck still for a sec,” he mumbles, and he presses his face against your back- you can feel the heat of it through your shirt. “Just fucking- came twice in the span of thirty minutes, let me catch my goddamn breath before you try to go again.”

“That’s not-” He presses hard against your clit and your body jerks in his hold. “Not helping,” you finish feebly, and he laughs against your flank before he lets go of your body and pushes back, pulling out with a loud, wet noise that brings a flaming blush to your face. “And not what I was trying to do.”

There’s a shuffle of movement and then the bed dips in front of you- you raise your head up from the mattress to see Vox eagle-spread across the sheets, his chest heaving. “No, you were just trying to get off in my closet after watching me fuck a pillow like a fucking loser. Not sure if that reflects worse on you or me.”

You flush, and prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him- he didn’t seem like he was as angry now, less likely to murder you probably. “It’s not great for either of us, but probably a little worse for me.” You take a deep breath, tense despite the orgasm that made your bones feel like goo. “I… I don’t think you’re going to kill me now? But I do understand if you would still like to fire me, sir- this was… lovely, but I was still unprofessional, and-”

“God, just- shut up, damn, is that also a deer thing? Never being able to stop talking? I’m not gonna fucking fire you.” He throws an arm over his screen, his internal fans whirring and blowing hot air across your face. “Are you any good at your job or do you hide in closets on a regular basis?”

“First time transgression, sir.” He chuckles, and you shift a little bit higher up. “Besides- you know, this, I do a good job.”

He hums, turning on his side to look at you- or more specifically, to look at the valley between your breasts where they’re pushed up from your position on your elbows. “Fuck,” he mutters, then actually meets your eye. “Can you get a cum stain out of a pillow?”

You resist the urge to laugh. “I can do more than just wipe it down with a damp cloth and throw it in the closet to sit for two days.”

“Oh, fuck you,” he says, his screen tinting pink, but he doesn’t actually seem upset about it. “It would have gotten cleaned eventually. The point is- you’ve already seen it, I don’t think there’s any reason why anyone else needs to.”

“Your dry cleaning woman hasn’t seen it before?”

“What, you think I make a fucking habit of this?” He sits up, crossing his legs on the bed to turn and look down at you. “First time transgression, doll. Fuckin’ Val bought me that thing as a joke a few years ago, I forgot about it entirely until he came back, and all this fucking tension came along with it that I obviously couldn’t do anything about with him. No one else has seen it, no one else- no one else knows.”

“I can keep a secret,” you find yourself saying. “And yes, I can get a stain out of a pillow like that.”

His eyebrow quirks up. “I’ll take your word,” Vox says. “Tell you what- you work your magic on that fucking thing, we toss it back into the closet- properly cleaned this time- and we can discuss some kind of arrangement between the two of us. A personal contract with me, instead of the collective like everybody else. You won’t have to wear that uniform anymore,” he adds, “but I can’t say one that I come up with would be any better. I’d keep that cute tail on display though.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You stand from the bed and enjoy the way that his eyes trail down your body, even if they do hover a little longer on your ears. “Do you keep any hydrogen peroxide in the apartment?” He blinks at you. “Bleach? Rubbing alcohol? Fuck, baking soda and vinegar?”

“I’m the CEO, what the fuck do I need any of those things for? Everything I need other people will do for me.”

“God damn it- okay then, you wait here and try to keep your hands off the pillow- I’ll be back.” With a grin rivaling the one on the soiled cushion's image you turn your back to the still grumbling demon. You couldn’t believe your luck - not only had Vox not killed you but you got a good fuck and the promise of some sort of a promotion out of the situation as well. With newfound confidence, you flipped your skirt up and wagged your tail at him before you disappeared through the door to look for the necessary supplies, chuckling to yourself as you heard the grumbling turn into a needy groan.

[detectiveluke7]

Hot take, it is just as parasocial to hate or freak out over every single cc because they “took too long” to respond or speak about everything going on with Shelby and Will as it is to hero worship them. I want to touch on some things, as there are people on here conveniently forgetting empathy as soon as it no longer fits a situation they feel strongly about.

Let’s start with the fact that many of the creators involved did not chose to speak on matters until they felt "safe" to do so, as I've seen some users on here saying. Yes, it's true. Many of them didn't publicly show support for Shelby or condemn Will until he made his own statement. Supposedly, many of them also knew about his behavior weeks/months. But let's look at the facts.

Firstly, these content creators are going to go about their public images very carefully. It's their job after all, and they are hyper aware that anything they say and do is going to get scrutinized to no end. Of course they're prioritizing self preservation. I think shaming any of them for that is the same as shaming a customer service worker for being polite to a rude customer. For the ccs, it's always going to be a doomed if they do speak up, doomed if they don't. It doesn't hurt to note that it's very smart for these people to think before they speak. The last guy who didn't think before yapping had people spreading around that he was a child groomer for a year.

Secondly, hindsight is a bitch. We all like to think we know better, but guess how people become victims of abuse in the first place? When someone is generally liked by other people, and all of your friends seem to get along fine with him, you might overlook any strange or off behavior that makes you uncomfortable. Especially if you see this person once in a blue moon, it could feel wrong to make a big deal out of something that might just be a you problem.

We also have no idea what could be going on behind the scenes. Who reached out to Shelby privately to show their support, who had a pr team telling them to wait before doing anything, who thought it was best for themselves to wait so they don't act purely on emotion, who had other pressing matters that they needed to attend to regarding their personal lives, etc etc. It's so easy to forget that the guy in our screen is a person, and that they too do other things that we don't see.

I don't think anyone is a bad person for no longer wanting to watch and support these creators. People can do what they want with their own time, which is a nice little perk we got when we have autonomy. Guess what though? No one is wrong for still wanting to support and watch those content creators either, as they aren't guilty of shit.

At the end of the day, it's pretty counterproductive to be creating more problems out of something that was supposed to be about warning everyone of a gross man, and any other signs of abuse to look out for in our own lives. Instead of making this situation a "keep the ccs accountable" party, lets make this a "support Shelby and other victims," affair. And yes, let's keep denouncing Will, the actual abuser.

[lovelytsunoda]

don't go breaking my heart // lance stroll

soft moments stolen between wedding and reception

weddings are joyous and festive, but can be stressful for introverts like lance and his wife. so when they were able to steal some moments with each other in the peace of his aston martin between the ceremony and the venue, they know these are the moments they will treasure the most from that day.

pairing: lance stroll x newlywed reader

warnings: just fluff, a minor minor allusion to sex.

author's note: i have no idea why i have written so many wedding things for this man, but i think it's because he is the raw definition of husband material. thank you and good night lmao.

“don’t go breaking my heart…I couldn’t if I tried”

elton john and kiki dee crooned over the speakers as lances aston martin drove through the quebec countryside. it was a quiet night, stars high in the sky as he ran his thumb over his wife’s thigh.

“I love you.” he hummed, daring to look over at the love of his life as he took a corner too fast. “my darling darling wife.”

she smiled, meeting his gaze. “eyes on the road, handsome. you’ve got the rest of your life to stare at me. I love you too.”

the wedding had felt like a blur, maybe because of how wired they both felt. it should have been a smaller ceremony, in all hindsight considered.

it was an odd thing: you want to celebrate your love around all these people, but then the day arrives and suddenly you feel anxious at letting them see you pledge your heart to another.

lance and y/n had always been the quiet, soft couple. the one evoking ‘awe’s and heart eyes from the groups around them. they knew each other like the backs of their hands, better than any track map or textbook.

“enjoy the quiet while it lasts.” she hummed, nimble fingers gently easing the pins for her white lace veil out of her hair. “is it bad that I’m dreading my own reception?”

lance laughed. "nope. because i am, too. i know it's all about us and all that, but i hate being the center of attention. i would have rather had a dinner party."

she snorted. "technically this is really just a rather large dinner party."

"i mean, there's food and wine, you picked a damn good throwback playlist. dinner party." lance shrugged, taking his foot off the gas, headlights illuminating the empty road ahead.

lance had decided to take the scenic route, savoring this moment alone, this little bit of calm before the storm. before the party, the noise, the people.

just him and his wife, falling a little bit more in love with each other every day.

"if scotty throws his back out dancing to 'suicide blonde', i'm not fucking helping." y/n laughed, reaching for the stereo to flip to the offending inxs song. "i still cannot believe that this song was about kylie fucking minogue."

"there's a reason we invested in the mocktail bar."

"you know most of the guys have flasks hidden in their suit jackets, right?"

she would have preferred something low key, but her family had wanted the big party. it wasn't all bad. she got to pick the food (pasta bar, anybody?), the drinks, the decorations, the music. she'd made a throwback playlist of all her favorite happy songs, all the ones that made her feel alive, giddy and in love, ranging from inxs to def leppard to kesha.

she'd waited twenty-five years for this moment, so why was she suddenly getting this bad feeling about going to the party that followed?

the event venue slowly came into view over the distance, the white brick building with it's pillars and vintage charm, the walkway to the door lit up with fairy lights. the small parking lot was already almost full, the rest of the guests waiting inside for the happy couple. lance parked his car furthest from the door, but kept the engine running.

he took her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. "we can turn around and drive away." he was dead serious when he looked over at her. "i'm serious, we can run and go get burgers and milkshakes and see a movie and then go back to the hotel and not sleep a minute because we are too busy having the goofiest, most romantic sex of our lives. i just want you to be comfortable."

"i know. and that's why i love you so much, lance." she sighed, a smile blooming on her face. "but our friends are in there. our parents are in there. hell, your dad is probably trying to sell my dad on buying a time share villa in biarritz."

lance laughed, leaning over the center console to kiss her forehead. "whenever you want to leave, you just tell me. if you need a minute to yourself, just shoot me a text message and i'll come and find you. or don't, if you just want a walk in total solitude. i'll probably need one of those at some point, too."

"i knew there was a reason i married you." she joked, tilting her head up to press her lips to his. "i love you to the moon and back, lance."

"you wanna go inside?"

"we might as well."

lance took his seatbelt off, shutting off the car and sliding out of the driver's door. her dramatically slid across the hood, earning a laugh from his wife as he skipped towards her door, opening it for her before extending a hand for her to take.

"beautiful girl, love of my life, may i help you out of this shockingly low car?"

she laughed, slipping one of her hands into his warm one. "yes, my beautiful husband. yes, you may."

she stepped out of the car, the hem of her white silk dress dusting the gravel in the parking lot. a breeze ran through the area, making the hair on the backs of her arms stand up.

"love, you're shivering." lance said softly, slipping out of his suit jacket and draping it over her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she put her arms through the sleeves, wrapping her arms fully around her husband. "i love you."

"i love you, too." she took a minute to stand there, her nose in his dress shirt, breathing in his cologne. bath and body works, today. she liked that. something playful and romantic instead of the heavy, stinging designer scents he usually wore.

"we should go inside." he whispered, their bodies swaying together in the silence, her skin warm against his.

"or we could stay out here just a little longer."

and who was he to argue with that?

"you get five more minutes. i'm starting to get hungry and the pasta bar has my name written all over it."

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @cartierre @diorleclerc @httpiastri @silverstonesainz @lorarri @twinkodium