#except the tickle fight part

[sanatomis]

currently thinking about. . .

satoru falling asleep in your arms.

notes. sorry for being so inactive guys, uni is not being my friend rn. . .anyways, enjoy this little brain-rot ! <3

It wasn’t a surprise to you when Satoru told you he has trouble sleeping. The confession came four months after your relationship became official—which finally happened after many, many years of dancing around one another. In those four months, despite being attached at the hip, you have never, ever seen him fall asleep before you. 

A small, secret part of you hoped for that to change; That your darling would find peace in your presence, and sleep without any sign of trouble. In an ideal world, his nights that were previously filled with insomnia would make way for loving cuddles and some very needed shut-eye. Though, that thought may have been the hopeless romantic in you. 

Of course, none of that actually happened. Satoru still runs on approximately four to five hours of sleep a day, and with the occupation he holds, you think that’s far too little. So, despite your fleeting wish, your relationship didn’t change that part of him—you didn’t change that part of him. Though, even if you’re unable to do much about his (concerning) lack of sleep, you make his waking moments much more bearable. 

His nights are still long, and the time that he sleeps is still short, except now—he enjoys the time that he spends awake. In the middle of the night, while the rest of Japan is asleep, Satoru is awake. Doing what, you wonder? Holding you. It’s all he does until his (still very human) body knocks him out and forces him to rest—he holds you. 

Every night is different, even if his routine is the same. Sometimes he’s seated against the headboard with you in-between his legs, your cute little face squished against him. Other times he’s spooning you from behind, and snuggling into the crook of your neck as he finds comfort in your scent. Though, he plays favourites, and enjoys it most when you’re cuddled into his chest—he gets to shield you from the world, and gets to keep you safely tucked away into his arms. 

Satoru often says he could spend hours simply sitting with you in his arms. You never quite understood why, however. Until now. 

You’re laying on the couch, and it’s not even remotely close to midnight, but your sweetheart is asleep. The faint noise of the TV hits your ears, but it quickly gets overshadowed by the small snores your boyfriend lets out. You quickly bite your bottom lip—cooing over him would surely wake him up. 

Of course, he does this. Of course, he snores. 

You smile at the thought, and shake your head knowingly. Satoru lays on his stomach, in-between your legs, and with his head on your chest. Both his arms are wrapped securely around you, and you fight another smile when he cuddles further into you. His hair tickles your chin when he does so, but you’d rather die than ever have him move away. He’s so ridiculously cute. With his mouth slightly parted, with low breaths steadily leaving his lips, and with all signs of stress faded from his pretty face. 

You bring a hand up towards him. It’s a careful movement, as you’re a little scared of waking him up and depriving yourself of such a sweet sight. Your fingers gently caress his face; from his jawline, to his cheekbone, to his nose. Subconsciously, a little smile appears on his lips, and you feel as if you’re the luckiest person alive for being allowed to witness it. 

Satoru moves shortly after. Not because he’s awake, but because he senses it when you move your hand away from him, and even while asleep—he chases after it. He leans into your touch, and lets out a soft, happy sigh when he does. It seems he found himself at peace once again. 

“So cute, mochi,” you sigh lovingly, and gently start carding your fingers through his hair. You bring your lips to the top of his head, and press a sweet, lingering kiss to it. “You’re so cute. I get it now.”

Satoru is asleep, finally. He’s resting, and at ease, and, well, a little bit loud still as the snores continue on—but he’s so very adorable. 

It makes the next three hours of sitting completely still all worth it. You didn’t need the feeling in your legs, anyway.

© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works.

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two

Gareth Emerson had no clue what the hell Eddie was thinking. 

There was “adopting lost sheep” as he called it, and “being the nest baby birds needed before they fly” for some of the other poor, mid-year transfers, and all of Hellfire was used to both these adoptees. 

People showed up, always looking a little hesitant, always a little careful, and all of them were welcomed until they found their place in Hawkin’s High. 

This though? This was neither of those things.

No, what Eddie had done was taken a wolf, or a--fucking tiger, that had gotten hurt fighting other fucking tigers, and decided to keep it as a pet. 

Even if said pet was looking very pathetic, with a face full of bruises that apparently, Billy Hargrove caused.

That did not make sitting across from the fallen King and current senior, Steve Harrington, any easier. 

Judging by the rest of Hellfire’s constant uneasy glances and uncomfortable, awkward joking, no one else was comfortable with it either. 

Except of course, for Eddie. 

“Dude can we like, talk for a minute?” Gareth asked, motioning at Jeff and Grant to distract Harrington. Not that it was hard, the jock was too busy staring at his pathetic packed lunch to notice much. 

(The guy brought soup to school and was drinking it cold. What the fuck.) 

“Ga~ary.” Eddie sing-songed, but it was in warning. 

A warning very much ignored, as Gareth stood, and moved to tug Eddie up with him. 

“Now, Eddie.” He said, his own tone a manic, if suppressed version of his own warning.

Gareth was not known for keeping his temper, but he also wasn’t keen on getting his ass kicked this early in the day if Harrington took offense. 

And considering they had all finally caught a look at Hargrove, and the way he fucking stopped and turned on his heel the second he saw Harrington, there was no doubt in Gareth’s mind that Harrington could kick his ass. 

Even in his current, beaten to shit state. 

Eddie huffed a dramatic breath, making sure at least some of his hair moved with it, but stood nonetheless. 

“I’ll return shortly, friends!” He called jovially, before letting himself be dragged backwards several feet. 

Just fair enough away where they could still see the table, but not be heard. 

Particularly not by any invading jocks. 

“What were you thinking!?”  Gareth started, hands crossed over his chest tightly.  “You didn’t even talk to us first!”

“Garebear, look at him.” Eddie said, placing both hands on his friend's face, turning it to look at Steve’s hunched form. 

“Those big, sad, puppy-dog eyes.” Eddie continued, leaning in to whisper in Gareth’s ear. “The pathetic way he slouches.”

 Eddie leaned even closer, lips tickling Gareth’s ear and making the latter swat at him. 

He dropped his hands to Gareth’s shoulders, shaking him lightly. 

“His giant empty house we can use for Hellfire meetings.”

“Is that seriously why you dragged him over here?” Gareth demanded, a little louder than he’d meant too, if Eddie’s abruptly tight grip was anything to go by. 

“Of course not.” Eddie scoffed. “Rumor has it the guy throws money around for his friends and if we play our cards right, we can be the receiving end of that gravy train.” 

Eddie grinned theatrically while he said it, staring into Gareth’s eyes like his smile alone would convince him to play along. 

It was the fakest thing Gareth had ever seen on his best friends face. 

“Don’t bullshit me man.” He said quietly, eyes narrowed. “What’s the actual reason you decided to go against your own doctrine and adopt Steve Harrington, of all people?” 

Eddie’s eyes flicked to Harrington and back. “There’s no other--”

“Eddie.” Gareth snapped, a flash of his temper breaking through. “You’re my best friend. Don’t fucking lie to me like that.” 

“Has anyone told you you’ve been using the word ‘fuck’ a lot, Gare?” Eddie muttered, but it was more subdued, the playful mask falling from his face. 

As a matter of fact, Ms. Click had called him out on it that very morning, but Gareth knew better than to admit that and derail this conversation. 

“Edwin Dale Munson.” Gareth growled, enjoying the way Eddie flinched from his full, government name. 

“Sssh!” Eddie dropped his hands from Gareth’s shoulder to wave them in his face. “Fine, fine, look. Rumor has it he got cheated on, blew up his friendship with Hateful Hagan and Cocky Carol, and then took a beating from Hargrove. All in the same like, week.” 

Eddie tugged at his hair, the movement harsh. 

“I found him walking home in the dark the other day. Said something was wrong with his car, but Gareth.” Eddie paused, gnawing on his lower lip, before he stopped close once again, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I had to coax him in my car and when he got in he kept flinching.” 

“Flinching.” Gareth repeated. 

“Like I was gonna hit him or something.” Eddie explained. “Worse Harrington’s house was dark when I got home. I mentioned to Wayne it didn’t look like anybody lived there and he said he was surprised anyone did. He thought the Harrington’s moved.” 

“Okay.” Gareth said, not quiet following this part of the conversation. 

“He thought they moved because some coworker of his wife worked for them as a house keeper or some shit. Said they bought a place in Chicago. She helped them pack.” 

Another look, but this time Gareth had picked up on what was happening. 

The flinching. 

Not going with his parents.

Staying in Hawkins, when Harrington had a chance to get the hell out. 

It didn’t paint a pretty picture. 

“Shit.” Gareth said finally.

Eddie nodded. “Exactly.” 

Together, they turned to stare at Harrington, who had hunched further into himself now that Eddie was gone from the table. 

“If he turns on us I’m blaming you.” Gareth grumbled finally, and tried not to let the smile that broke out on Eddie’s face effect him. 

“Glad to hear you’re on board, Garebear.” Eddie said, patting his shoulder hard. 

“You’re a fucking teddy bear, you know that right?” Gareth continued as they turned to walk back to the table.

“Shut your mouth.” Eddie fired back. 

“I don't think I will. In fact, Harrington!” Gareth spoke the jock’s name loudly, making the dude jerk and spill some of his soup. 

Bruised eyes looked up at him and Gareth fired a smug right into Harrington’s face. “Wouldn’t you agree that Eddie here is a giant teddy bear?”

“Don’t answer that.” Eddie cut in, as Harrington blinked slowly, a puzzled look overtaking his face. “Gareth here has a big imagination.”

“Let the man give his own opinions. I’m sure he has some!” 

Steve looked between them. 

“I think I’ll plead the fifth.” He decided on. 

“Smart man.” Jeff muttered, causing the rest of the table to snicker.

For the first time since he sat down, Gareth witnessed a small smile appear on Harrington’s face. 

[driaswrld]

lovers rock — gojo satoru and geto suguru.

wc : 2.7k

summary : over a bottle of ill-gotten vodka, the trio has a tipsy conversation about kisses.

part of : the star paradox collection.

(comment if u wanna be tagged for tsr!!)

notes : this is heavily based off the fact that reader DID in fact have secret feelings for geto and gojo but never said anything ab it until before the star plasma incident (fic ab that coming soon dw) you may interpret this as reader fell first, they fell harder bcus that's exactly what happened fr

other : satosugu makes fake IDs (based off that one fanart), literally underage drinking??? toru cant hold his alc but wbk this, suguru smokes here too, suggestive convo, mentions of like one curse word i think

current casette : lovers rock - tv girl (anything by tv girl is a tsr song okay?)

The dorms at Tokyo Jujutsu High operate on one solid rule.

All lights out by ten, no exceptions, no buts, ands, ifs or becauses. Curfew is at ten, be in your damn room by ten.

Naturally, Satoru and Suguru mistake ten for twelve.

It’s 9:53 when you walk into your dorm room, and the first thing that greets you are hushed whispers and a smoky smell.

Why is it so dark in here?

From your place at the door frame, your eyes flit to the back of Satoru’s head, silver white strands tickling his nape, uniform replaced with a blue hoodie. Suguru’s sitting across from him, slouched, cross legged like Satoru, hair tied into a ponytail and lips twisted into a thin scowl.

“—wasn’t yours.” Suguru grumbles beneath his breath, a pair of dice clinking softly in his palm, the light from your bedside lamp giving you a sneak peek of the numbers resting.

Three and six. Oh, no, that's definitely five.

“Cost me six hundred yen to get it.”

Satoru seems to ignore him, letting out a huff in defiance.

Suguru grunts, leaning over the side of the bed to pick up a half smoked cigarette, pressing it softly against the edge of your favorite incense holder to collect the stray ash.

“Broke ass.” Satoru mumbles, and though you can’t see his expression from here, you know he’s rolling his eyes. “Freeloader.” Suguru counters, cigarette lodged between his middle and index, and he brings it up to his lips and draws in softly.

He leans forward to drop the dice on Satoru’s leg.

“We’re supposed to split it equally.” You hear a clinking noise coming from Satoru’s lap.

“Like hell we are.” Suguru scoffs, a wisp of smoke leaving his mouth.

“I should get first share, it’s only fair.”

Suguru gets up from the bed, back turned to you as he slides the window open halfway. “We’re not sharing anything.” He flicks the cigarette outside. “I don’t know where your mouth’s been—”

“You tryin’ to fight—”

“Are you two getting high in my room?” Your voice makes them both freeze, and Satoru folds over the bed backwards, head upside down and staring straight at you with a guilty grin, all while Suguru is discreetly trying to fan the rest of the cigarette smoke out the window.

“What gave you that idea?” Suguru murmurs, squinting his eyes to make out your expression in the dim light with a faux innocent smile.

You breathe a chuckle, dropping your bag by the door and clicking it shut behind you. “How did the studying with Nanamin go?” Satoru asks, as if you can’t see him folded over the bed like he’s hiding something while Suguru fans the smoke through the window.

“I fell asleep halfway through, we got boba with Haibara instead.” You say, feeling blindly on the wall for the light switch.

“And you didn’t bring some back for me?” Satoru gasps, near offended.

“Don't change the subject,” you roll your eyes, pinky finger bumping against the light switch, and you flick it upwards with your index. When the light comes on and you face them, your jaw drops.

“Surprise…?” Suguru’s cheeks puff up in a wide thin lipped smile, almost mockingly. Satoru is still hanging off the edge of the bed, cigarette ash curdled on your incense holder, the pair of dice laying on the bedsheets and sure, they kinda made a little mess of your room.

But it's the bottle of vodka sitting between Satoru’s legs that takes the cake.

“You have to be kidding me—”

Suguru shrugs his shoulders, sliding the window fully open, the night air wafting inside.

It's almost curfew. And here they are. You're not even surprised, this is totally in character for them. “Wow, no, Satoru, you're such a rebel?” Satoru kicks his legs back and forth, voice mimicking a girly pitch. “Bad boys are so hot! Tell me all your secrets, toru-kun! None of that?"

“I was there too, idiot.” Suguru grumbles, shoving one of Satoru's legs aside as he steps over to the bedside table to grab the ash covered incense holder.

Satoru flails his legs like Suguru just smacked him, ever so dramatically. “How did you do it though?” You ask, with a near wince, exasperated but curious.

Unexpectedly, Satoru swings the vodka bottle sideways and into Suguru’s arms, the glass making a soft set of clink! sounds from Suguru’s rings as he catches it, both your eyes going wide as Satoru stands on the bed, striking some sort of elaborate pose.

“The date, June fifteenth ‘06—”

You turn to Suguru, confused but he only shrugs in response. “My assistant Sugi-san and I walked into Shinanoya—” Satoru continues his elaborate presentation, meanwhile you and Suguru whisper between his words. "Never call me that again—"

“So that's what you two were doing while you were supposed to be exorcising that curse?”

“He forced me to go along—”

“With these!” Satoru pulls out a mini plastic card, which is supposed to look like an ID, but really it's as flimsy as a piece of paper. You had to admit though, they really did get his good side in the picture. If he even has a bad side, that is.

“And we got the liquor at half price.” Suguru mumbles as you nudge him, and he pulls out his own fake ID, which looks the same as Satoru’s — you think you might want to print these pictures for a scrapbook or something some other time.

“I thought you said it was six hundred yen!”

“I added my service charge.”

“Service? What are you, a whore?”

You take the bottle from Suguru to feel the weight in your hands, and the liquid inside sloshes a little to the side.

Out of sheer curiosity and despite your better senses, you mumble, “Let's play a drinking game then.”

Forty minutes later.

It's drawing near to eleven. The lights are turned off and all that's coming from your dorm room are the sounds of yours and the boys’ whispers and hushed giggles from time to time, barely drowned out by a soft song playing from Suguru’s phone, playlist laying open on his phone, one of Satoru’s picks.

Are you sick of me?

Would you like to be?

“—turn it to your head if you can't answer.” Satoru grins, cheek resting on his palm as he lays across the bed. “Have you ever gotten freaky with a milf?”

A chortle leaves your mouth when Suguru twists his lips into an expression of shock and utter disgust, and you have to cover your mouth to not laugh out loud.

“A milf? Like… forty or something?”

“Not really — just like a hot older woman.” You say.

“Oh, she was around that age then, I guess…” Suguru grumbles, clutching the half empty vodka bottle in one hand, eyes squinted. “I didn't sleep with her though— I don't just… sling dick around like Satoru— I have morals.”

“Says the one who sucked tongue with an elderly woman.”

Suguru scoffs and takes a swig from the bottle, passing it over to you.

You shrug, coming to Suguru’s defense with a mumble. “I mean, Satoru… you are common—”

“Don't pretty it up, he's ran through—”

“Like hell I am!”

The three of you fold over in a fit of laughter, gasping for air, faces hot from the alcohol and the sheer idiocy of the moment.

It takes all your energy to muffle your combined laughs, and Satoru leans over Suguru’s phone to increase the music volume just a little, lightheaded and nearly knocking the vodka out of your hand, mouthing the lyrics with a lopsided toothy grin.

You like a pretty boy

With a pretty voice

“Your turn.” Suguru nods to you and the liquor in your hand sloshes to the side. “Make it good—”

Satoru tries to interrupt but has to cover his mouth to stifle a laugh when you take a whiff of the vodka, head tilting back and mouth forming an ‘o’ shape — sure, you three were already a little tipsy, but you’re pretty sure this is way past your limit.

Not like you could hold your alcohol anyway.

Suguru was the only one who could survive, you and Satoru were certified lightweights by default.

“Dare me to do anything and I’ll throw up on you.” You huff, and both boys raise their arms up in surrender.

It’s these things, small moments like these that make you want to live forever.

Minus the aging part, or maybe with the aging part — if it meant doing stupid stuff with Satoru and Suguru, young or old, you’re sure you’d have no complaints.

Because it’s them.

“You scared?” Satoru chuckles, drawing you out of your thoughts.

The way he says it, in that tone – it’s the same tone that would make you follow him anywhere.

The same tone that makes Suguru roll his eyes so far in the back of his head you’d think he had a leading role in The Conjuring.

“Should I be scared?”

It’s paired with bated breath, and the way Suguru looks up at you, dark eyes glazed over with a hint of inebriation, waterline bordering on crimson from the lit cigarette tucked between his middle and index – it makes you feel naked.

In a way you’ve never felt before.

“That depends,” he murmurs. You gulp. It’s like the air in here has changed, foggy with a foreign feeling surrounding you three. “Do you wanna be scared?”

Suguru takes a deep inhale of his cig, leaning over to breathe out a plume of smoke. You and Satoru inhale it like you’ve neglected oxygen your whole lives.

Maybe if it were anyone else you’d call it want. Or need.

Something in your soul tells you it transcends that.

She might want a kiss before the end of the song—

“Suguru—” His name doesn't get the chance to leave your mouth entirely, Satoru’s thumb and forefinger already have your chin in his grasp, turning your gaze to him instead.

“What’re you looking at him for?” Satoru mumbles, and you hear Suguru stifles a laugh across from you.

“You think he’s gonna save you?”

You want to laugh, it’s a running joke anyway.

No matter what, you run to Suguru to put Satoru in his place. That time Satoru got you kicked out of a movie theater, or the time Satoru tripped you up during a mission in front of the first years, or the time Satoru ate the cheesecake you hid in your mini fridge —

Whenever little name gets her strings pulled by Satoru, she goes running off for Suguru to save her, right?

But it doesn’t feel like he’s talking about that.

“You need me to save you, name?” Suguru chuckles, and from the corner of your eye, you see him pull his hair loose, dark strands cascading over his shoulders.

“Gonna let him call you weak like that?” He chides, and the cool pad of Satoru’s thumb taps against your bottom lip twice, as if challenging you to say something – to give him your attention instead.

“Nah, don’t need a hero.” You whisper, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “Toru might though.”

Suguru bites back a snicker, head tilting back as he draws in another inhale of smoke. “Aw, don’t bully him, name.”

Because love can burn

Like a cigarette

“C’mon, don’t look at him,” Satoru tilts your head in his grasp, a soft grin forming on his face, dimples on showcase. “Look at me.” He whispers, tugging you closer, and you have to tighten your grip on the neck of the bottle so it doesn’t slip, your palms sweating from the proximity.

“Satoru—”

“Don’t double back now, you laughed a bit too hard at me just now, y’know?”

You open your mouth to protest, shivering when the tip of your tongue grazes the pad of his thumb. Satoru makes a noise in the back of his throat, something between a groan and a scoff.

You wonder if the vodka made you imagine the way his pupils dilated. “Just ask the stupid question—” You try to turn your head away in vain, and this time, Suguru laughs at your expense.

“You ever been kissed before?”

And leave you with nothing

You stiffen, gaze snapping up to meet Satoru’s, only to find him dead serious.

Ofcourse you’ve been kissed before. But not like that— not like—

Like… oh no…

And if you start to kiss—

You bring the bottle of vodka to your lips, and both boys watch with amused gazes, and hint of something you don’t have a name for yet.

“You could’ve just—” Satoru’s hand falls loose over your shoulder as you take a swig, and Suguru shifts forward in curiosity. “—said no.”

“Nobody’s kissed you?” Suguru echoes and you grimace from the alcohol and the sheer embarrassment, shoving the open bottle to stand in the space between Satoru’s legs.

“Your turn,” you grumble, wiping remnants of the sweet liquor from your mouth with the back of your palm.

And the record skips—

Satoru and Suguru exchange a look, one you immediately assume is them reading each other’s minds and gearing up to laugh in your face.

Truly, you wouldn’t blame them — because here you are about to graduate in a year and still haven’t gotten your first kiss.

And it’s not like you haven’t like… gotten close to it— it’s just that the circumstances are never perfect and other things always get involved and you get all in your head and your mind just starts to do the thing—

“Hey,” Satoru’s voice brings you out of your thoughts, and your palms go clammy, folded over your lap. “We don’t care about it, it’s nothing.” He whispers.

“Pretty sure there’s nobody who even deserves to kiss you anyway.” You glance over to Suguru, who’s already outing his cigarette and scooting closer.

Flip it over

And sit a little closer

If anything, it makes you swell with shame rather than comfort.

“Not like that, I didn’t mean—”

“Great job, Suguru—”

“As if you were doing any better—”

And despite yourself, you chuckle. They’re idiots. God, they’re fools.

Now, how many men have you kissed?

Satoru’s fingers dip under the collar of your shirt, playing around with the loose thread.

They made you laugh, that’s enough for him, always has been. He knows Suguru feels the same, but why… why doesn’t he feel satisfied with just that? Like there's something else he should be doing?

“Not fair,” he mumbles beneath his breath, cheeks flushed as he slumps forward, resting his head in the crook of your neck. You think he might be past his drinking limit, he always gets all babbly like this when he is.

“Not fair?” Suguru questions, resting a hand over his knee.

“Yeah, ‘s just not fair — who wouldn’t wanna kiss her?”

“I’m literally right here—”

“Keep listening then, it’s not like I’m lying or nothing.”

You’re not strong like Satoru and Suguru.

You’d say you’re not as beautiful either, or eve half as smart sometimes – you never compare yourselves to them but in the great grand scheme of things— you’ve never wanted to be kissed anyway, not by anyone you don’t feel for.

Not by someone who doesn’t know you in the ways you don’t want to be known.

Very few

In the way you know Satoru hates alcohol, but he only ever drinks it when you and Suguru are around. The way Suguru never likes taking pictures but manages a smile when you and Satoru pull him in for a group photo.

“If I kissed you, I’d never stop.” Suguru breathes, laying back on the bed, rumble of a sigh leaving his lips.

But you offered me a kiss

In the way they both know what you’re thinking before you even say it. The way grocery runs, 24 hour mart stops, week long missions, midnight talks, belly laughs and breaching curfew feels like a love language – something only the three of you speak – like something so foreign yet so familiar.

Why?

“I don’t think I’d remember to breathe again if I kissed you.” Satoru grumbles in the crook of your neck, somewhere between a yawn and whine. “You could have anyone you want, name, a whole line full of kisses…”

“Never really wanted to be kissed to be honest,” leaves your mouth in a whisper, your eyelids drooping shut.

Such a foolish reason, I’m afraid.

I just wanted… to kiss you.

[papiliotao]

・❥・IN CLASSROOM 143

♡ — Reader: GN

♡ — Characters: Aether, Albedo, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Xiao

♡ — Synopsis: what is it like sitting next to them in class?

♡ — Content: fluff, high school AU, modern AU

♡ — A/N: classes were just better when I sat next to silly people. That's probably where I got the inspiration for this from. Have fun reading!

AETHER is the living definition of overcommitment. He's quite popular among your peers, so it's only natural that people are queuing up to ask him to join their clubs. Unfortunately, he's a bit people pleaser, so he can never find the heart to turn them down. From music to volleyball, Aether is involved in almost every extracurricular that the school has to offer, and as his desk partner in history class, you begin to notice the toll it’s taking on him.

It shows in the way he's always late and gasping for air as he sits down beside you. It shows in the way he turns to you and tiredly waves at you each class, offering you a weak smile that makes your heart skip a beat. And it shows in the way his honeyed eyes droop as he fights the temptation of slumber, all while your elderly teacher's droning voice lulls him into a state of tranquility.

He's fighting a losing battle, and he knows it. Each time the boy gives in to his weariness and lays his head on his desk to inevitably drift into the realm of dreams, his expression softens. He looks so content. You can never muster the willpower to wake him up, so instead, you leave him be and diligently take notes to share with him once class ends. After all, even someone as busy as Aether needs to set aside some time to rest in their strenuous schedule. The dark circles under his eyes tell you all you need to know about the amount of sleep he gets.

But there's no way the frigid surface of the table he uses as a makeshift pillow is comfortable, so one day, on an impulsive whim, you offer up your shoulder as a headrest instead. Aether agrees gratefully, and from then on, the sweet boy leans against you as he rests. His warm breath sends tingles down your spine, and his soft hair tickles your skin, and although his proximity makes it harder for you to take notes, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

ALBEDO, the boy who sits next to you in chemistry, is studious yet eccentric. He’s known for achieving nearly perfect grades by utilizing his unrivalled intellect, and he’s always the first person his peers go to for help with their schoolwork despite the fact that he’s rather introverted. As a result of his reserved demeanour, he almost never offers his aid to others first, but you’re the exception. 

Whenever you look as though you’re struggling, Albedo won’t hesitate to assist you. He almost appears a little too excited to talk to you, giving advice anytime he sees an opportunity to. It's gotten to the point where even your classmates have picked up on his eagerness to speak to you, and they have started speculating that the bright boy is infatuated with you. You can't deny the fact that the thought causes your heart to flutter, but you try your best not to get your hopes up, just in case your peers are mistaken. Besides, Albedo is rather difficult to understand anyway, so it wouldn't come as a shock if it turned out that his intentions were simply being misinterpreted.

One example of said contradictory behaviour on Albedo's part has to do with his participation during lessons. Despite his stellar academic performance, he has a habit of zoning out whenever a topic doesn’t interest him. In those instances, you notice that he pulls out a sketchbook and flips to a page half-filled with doodles and begins to meticulously scrawl on the paper. Soon, snowy white is dyed shades of grey and black, undergoing a metamorphosis that transforms it into the finest of portraits. You’re always curious as to what Albedo is drawing, but you’re never able to catch a clear glimpse. Whenever you look his way, he hastily shuts the book, concealing its contents as if he is guilty of a crime.

Unbeknownst to you, the ocean-eyed boy beside you is doodling the one he is infatuated with: you. His feelings ebb into his sketchbook, and his art captures every dip and curve of your face, encapsulating all your radiance with immaculate precision. And yet, he never overlooks your imperfections either — with his pencil acting as a catalyst, he records them in great detail. Albedo is in love with every single aspect of you, even your flaws, which arguably garner more adoration from the boy than any of your other features because they make you distinct — the brightest star in a galaxy full of wonders. Perhaps one day, he will be able to show you his works, but for now, he is more than content with silently admiring you.

Peculiarity is a trait best embodied by KAEDEHARA KAZUHA, the boy who sits next to you in English class. On the surface, he seems normal enough — although one could argue that he is abnormally pretty with his snowy white hair and eyes the colour of autumnal maple leaves. However, he is also strange in other ways. Six months of conversing with Kazuha have led you to the conclusion that he is most definitely odd, but not necessarily in a bad way.

Unlike most of your peers, Kazuha often appears to have his head in the clouds, daydreaming in a world that he has made entirely his own. There are times where he stares out the window, sighing wistfully as he gazes at the vivid azure sky overhead. On other occasions, he writes poems in the worn notebook he always carries around, hardly minding the way you look over his shoulder to get a glimpse of what he's writing. Most puzzling of all, however, is his tendency to absentmindedly stare at you in the middle of class. He doesn’t even have the shame to look away when you glance back at him. He just maintains eye contact and smiles at you, causing you to avert your gaze first.

Despite the fact that Kazuha is rather odd, he is still a polite and compassionate person. Whenever you allow him to proofread your assignments, he compliments your work in embellished words that bloom with praise, and he offers advice in a way that feels warm and genuine. You feel at ease with him — unafraid of being judged. However, sometimes guilt gnaws at you when you ask for Kazuha's help because he's always the one assisting you. He has nothing to gain, but he continues assisting you out of the kindness of his own heart.

That's why when Kazuha asks you to read over some of his poetry for the first time, you agree without hesitation. A quick scan of the page Kazuha directs you to causes you to raise your eyebrows. It's a love poem that is cryptically addressed to ‘the one I adore’. You can feel the affection Kazuha harbors toward the person mentioned in the poem just by reading it. When you ask Kazuha who it's for, he simply chuckles and asks if you like his poetry, effectively dodging your question. You decide to let him off easy and give him a half-hearted answer, pretending that you aren’t jealous of the person he likes.

Over the remainder of the year, Kazuha continues showing you his poetry and requesting input from you. Each time you read his impeccably-crafted works, you feel your heart race. His poems are spun from the stuff of dreams — sweeter than the cotton candy clouds that hang in the sky outside the classroom window.

Sometimes you like to entertain the idea that they could be for you, but you always shut the notion down before it can grow into a fully-developed thought, too insecure to believe someone as handsome and thoughtful as Kazuha could ever hold such feelings for you. 

When it comes time for the final English class of the year, you swear that you’ve read almost every form of poem in existence from sonnets to haikus to odes. On that particular day, you notice something different about Kazuha. He seems more fidgety than usual, and he has entirely lost his ability to zone out, instead becoming hyperaware of his surroundings. The smallest movements you make cause him to whip his head around to steal a glance at you.

You discover the reason behind his atypical behaviour at the end of class when he hands you a simple white envelope. When you open it, you find pages upon pages of poetry, causing you to experience a sudden epiphany.

The one he loved was you all along.

Raiden Kunikuzushi — more commonly known as SCARAMOUCHE — is living proof that pretty privilege exists. At least, that’s what you believe.

He’s infuriating. No matter how abhorrent you find the way he treats his friends (who are honestly more akin to acquaintances), they never stand up to him. They simply allow Scaramouche to walk all over them. It's like he's put them in a trance with his breathtaking eyes, which are filled with starlight and tinted an indigo reminiscent of the awe-inspiring night sky.

But despite the fact that he is admired by many, his relationships are purely superficial. To his peers, he is nothing more than a sight for sore eyes, and that is what keeps the bitterness of envious sentiments from swallowing you whole. You’ll never be jealous of Scaramouche because his popularity stems solely from his looks. 

His situation evokes a feeling of pity within the depths of your soul. The notion of your contempt for the boy still remains ingrained in your mind, but you also can’t help but pity him.

Perhaps that is what pushes you to sit beside him in your physics class on the first day of school when you notice that he is all alone. You have your reservations, but the way Scaramouche is scowling makes you think he’ll explode out of sheer rage if you don't take action.

Things start off slowly. He doesn't speak to you at first. You simply see him glancing suspiciously at you in your peripheral vision, as if he believes you have ulterior motives. However, the awkward tension becomes too much for you far too quickly, so on a typical day of classes, you decide to take your chances and pass him a note in the middle of a lesson, asking him how his day was.

When Scaramouche first sees your note, he frowns. It almost appears as though he's in disbelief because someone has taken an interest in him rather than his looks. Nonetheless, he decides to entertain you and promptly responds to you, writing a reply underneath your message in impressively neat handwriting. This sparks a conversation. One instance of the two of you passing notes in class turns to two — and two to three until you and Scaramouche are discreetly conversing each class.

Your inconspicuous discussions with Scaramouche lead you to learn more about him as a person. Whereas before you thought he was just a shallow pretty boy, now you know that he’s both cunning and witty. He never fails to make you laugh with his sarcastic comments, and despite the fact that he seems rather mean-spirited at times, you discover that once he opens up, he is more than capable of caring for others. Case in point: on days where you're feeling down, he (attempts) to tell you jokes to make you feel better, and he gives you the candy that his mother packs for him, claiming that he "doesn't like sweets anyway."

If only other people could take the time to get to know the real him. Underneath the veil of entrancing vanity and mystery that surrounds him, Scaramouche is a surprisingly entertaining and contemplative person.

However, for now, it seems that Scaramouche is more than content with the relationship he has with you. He doesn't care for any of his two-faced "friends." The only one he needs is you.

Fate has rather unconventional methods of bringing people together. There are times where you believe it is sentient, cutting, weaving, and pulling on the delicate threads that bind humans together with its steady hands.

Fate must be alive and working its magical because there is no other plausible explanation for how things ended up this way. All that is to say, some otherworldly force must have noticed your desperation to get closer to your longtime crush, XIAO, and finally decided to take pity on you.

It's crazy to think that one minuscule decision can shape the course of your entire relationship with someone, but your own experiences are indicating to you that there is some merit to the claim. After all, your computer science teacher's spontaneous choice to seat you next to Xiao is what kindles the first sparks of your relationship with him.

It all starts with music. At first, Xiao doesn’t attempt to converse with you. He seems adamant on retaining his introverted ways. It's not that he doesn't want to talk to you; he's just inexperienced when it comes to socialization. So instead of making an effort to talk to you, he simply grabs a pair of earbuds and listens to his favourite songs whenever the teacher gives the class time to work.

This all changes when you muster the courage to ask him what he’s listening to. The way his eyes widen that fateful day, gazing at you with surprise evident in his pools of amber, is something you’ll never forget.

After all the silence on his end, you still want to talk to him? He is touched by your resolve, but he is also afraid of being too blunt, so instead of giving you an overly-verbose response, he asks you if you want to listen with him, offering you one of his earbuds. Xiao's heart jumps when you accept with an endearing smile. From then on, the two of you bond over music, and Xiao begins feeling comfortable enough to speak to you.

Gradually, years of distance and rigid formality vanish. Hushed conversations at the back of a sunlit classroom, shy waves from across cramped hallways, and accidental touches of his hands to yours replace the barriers that once separated the two of you. A once hopeless situation gives way to a radiant future as you finally begin getting closer to the boy you've pined over for as long as you can remember.

Sorry if there are mistakes. I feel like I'm making this worse each time I edit it :( Either way, thank you for reading and have a fantastic day/night!

[chrollohearttags]

all my wishes • portgas d. ace

synopsis: a lost bet, two rambunctious firefighters and an unforgettable birthday full of surprises all transpire when you decide to give your boss the ultimate gift!

content + themes: firefighter ace + reader (black coded but no heavy descriptors), fluff to smut, LOTS of humor, alcohol use, food play, finger sucking, reader spoiling ace, nipple play, so many themes bc they are whores (they talk so dirty to each other 😫) squirting, daddy’s used, spit kink, sweet ending

word count: 7.7K

📝: this started out as a small lil’ drabble but then I remembered that my baby’s birthday was LITERALLY today so I started another insane piece with my other hyperfixation and the #2 ship in the Cherry Cinematic Universe™. I hope y’all enjoy them as much as I do! 🫶🏾 (also, this is coming late becatse when I set my mind to getting something done, it will be done. I don’t give a damn how long it takes and this may the last big piece I get to write for a while so I’m enjoying it!)

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding!”

“But (y/nnnnn)! You promised! C’mon, you lost so you have to do it. You can’t go back on your word.”

“No, Luffy! Matter of fact, hell no! You know I never would’ve agreed if this was what you were going to pull. I can’t believe you set me up like this..”

The dining table set in the center of company eight’s firehouse had become the scene where quite the interesting debate was transpiring. What began as a normal conversation had quickly escalated to quite the debacle. In about a week or so, a member of your small yet close knit crew would be celebrating a very important occasion..one that everyone was looking to make absolutely unforgettable..everyone except you that was!

“But it’ll mean a lot to him. Especially if it’s from you, I mean you’re practically his wife—“ “take it back and don’t ever say something like that ever again.”

shooting him quite the menacing glare with your arms folded over your chest. Luffy was the younger brother to the vice fire chief and your secret not-so-secret fling, Portgas D. Ace, affectionately known as Ace around the community. That shaggy black top and dotted freckles splattered across his devilishly handsome face that had captivated the heart of any woman who’d been so lucky to be graced with that heartwarming smile. However, that suave charm and boyish features didn’t sway you one bit. At least that’s what you let on to everyone else. See, just like your coworkers, his baby brother was no stranger to the proverbial game of cat and mouse the two of you had been engaged in. There were many times where he’d find himself crashing at his brother’s apartment and find himself on the receiving end of your conversations. Late night calls and visits because you obviously couldn’t get enough of each other. Contacting him under the guise of fighting only to end up settling matters in a different and much more salacious way. Not to mention, in your absence, Ace had spoken quite fondly of you to both Luffy and your own adoptive brother, Usopp. Talking about how insane yet entertaining you were..which was the sole reason for this whole ordeal! See, during a routine training session, Luffy had stopped by to watch on his day off and it was during this time, he spotted an exercise that tickled his fancy..it was whilst he was there, he divulged the idea to both Zoro and Sanji about giving his big brother a surprise birthday party but as everyone knew, Ace wasn’t too particularly keen on celebrating such an occasion. Hell, even the fire chief, ‘Smoker’ and his fellow fire college graduate and good friend Marco were in on the gig. Sure, he made the firehouse lively on a daily basis and when it was time to turn up for any other event, he was the guy you wanted there but when this day came around? He’d ignore it. It was mainly due in part to him never wanting to place emphasis on himself. Ace was selfless in nature and only thought of others. So they hoped that although the two of you had your differences in the past, you’d set them aside for at least one day and grant him the night of his life. But you refused…not only would that arrogant son of a bitch never let you live it down that you did something nice for him but he may not even like it. You’d rather him bring in his special day surrounded by his actual friends. “That’s so fucking stupid!” It was all Luffy could think as he let out a hysterical laugh. Because he knew as well as anyone, Ace wouldn’t want to spend his birthday with anyone other than his precious little rookie! “My brother’s crazy about you, big sis (y/n).” So he placed a nice little wager, unsuspecting to you as he cleaned the truck..

“Let’s see who can do the rope climb and foot race the fastest. If I win, you’ll have to do something for me. And you win, I’ll do whatever you want. Sounds good?!” So with that cheeky grin and precious demeanor, you indulged him. With that, the bet commenced and Luffy challenged you. They knew you were quite the tough nut to crack but if anybody, even with no prior experience, could defeat you..it was Luffy! That hyperactivity and determination proved to be of use. So when he won by only a hair’s breadth, it was a no brainer what he’d choose! Which brought you to this exact moment..

“I don’t know why you’re wasting your breath, Luffy. She’s just going to pitch a fit, pretend she hates him and then have her tongue down his throat later on. It’s no use.”

The snarky comment coming from none other than the foul mouthed, hot headed gym rat of the crew, Zoro. The two of you shared quite the close bond because although he was highly sarcastic, he adored you like that of a sister. Not only that, he was dating your childhood best friend, Janelle. Who was equally yoked with him as a former Marine sergeant and fellow athlete. He’d constantly take jabs at the fact that you tried to wear this tough exterior even though you were a huge softy. “Shut the hell up, Zoro. Like I said, even if I was to plan his party, who’s to say he’d show up or want to be there anyways? You know how he is. C’mon y’all, please don’t make me do this.”

groaning in a loud huff as your head fell back, you’d release a deep sigh as well.

“Trust me, (y/n). I don’t like it anymore than you do..” just then, the resident cook and quintessential pervert, masquerading as a loverboy, Sanji interjected into the conversation. Causing an eye roll and deep groans of ‘here he goes’ “..seeing my beloved sweet with another man? It breaks my heart. But he deserves this. He’s always been so thoughtful of everybody else, never even taking time to deal with his own problems. If it was left up to him, his dumbass would just sleep through the day after drinking his weight in booze. I know you guys have your differences but I don’t think it’d mean more to him if anyone else did this. So please..will you make his birthday special?”

how could you possibly say no when they all looked so damn pathetic?!

“She’s only scared she might actually enjoy herself. I don’t think we need to worry. Even if she says she can’t stand him, (y/n) will never be able to live with herself if she did something half assed. Being an overachiever trumps her being a hater so it’ll be fine.” Scoffing as you donned him with a middle finger. But he wasn’t wrong. Nonetheless, you’d lost the bet fair and square so you had to see it through either way.

“..fine, I’ll do it. But don’t get mad at me when he doesn’t show up. Can’t say I didn’t try.”

it was all they could hope for at this point so they’d leave the daunting task in your capable hands. Little did they know, it was the best idea any of them would have made!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

a couple days had elapsed since the dilemma of your boss’ birthday came about and unfortunately, only one remained before his twenty eighth trip around the sun would arrive. Luffy divulged the fact that he probably had a mile long list of things he wanted to do but would never say them out loud. You had been using what little free time you had acquired to research and plan out somewhat of an itinerary to fill his twenty four hours with nothing but enjoyable activities. In your time together, when you weren’t at each other’s throats, you’d learn a few things about him. Including his love for nature. He loved hiking, camping, discovering the unknown which made perfect sense, considering the profession you were in. Ace also had an affinity for dancing so you looked up a few spots that had a more casual atmosphere rather than some stuffy five star establishment. Ace may have had quite the flamboyant personality at times but he didn’t do the pompous waiters and over priced appetizers. So you opted for a Latin fusion lounge instead. Where they’d feature a live DJ and you guys could dance whilst consuming delicious food and drinks. A good compromise, finally, you’d end the evening at a hotel where needless to say, the real fun would begin! You’d also acquire quite the stockpile of gifts. With everything from his favorite cologne to some new Nikes he’d been raving about along with some fishing equipment. Just an assortment of his favorite things. It was obvious that you’d put a lot of time and devotion into this. Although no one could tell if you genuinely wanted to or if this was merely another assignment you’d complete to fruition, they sincerely hoped he liked it all!

“Hey lovebug. Need some help?”

it was around ten pm when you’d finally glare at the corner of your laptop and notice the time. It was New Years Eve and when most would be out celebrating, as always, you and your sisters doubling as roommates were inside..partaking in moderate drinking and cheesy movie viewings. Robin, who’d just entered from her bedroom sporting purple negligee, matching robe as she brandished a wine glass. Such a woman of elegance and always did things with grace. If anyone would know how to put something like this together, it’d be her.

“Hey mama. I’m just trying to finish up this plan. God, who knew doing something for a man would be so exhausting..” which elicited a laugh from her. As you tapped away at your keyboard, navigating your touchscreen with the swipe of a finger, she’d take a seat next to you. “You must really like him.” Quite obviously that was the last thing you wanted to hear! The thought of actually liking Ace beyond a physical level? It made you want to chuck yourself from a window! But the truth was, you had grown fond of him. It just seemed as if everytime you wanted to get closer to him or feel an ounce of something other than pure hatred, he comes in with some snide remark or a low blow. Not to mention, he didn’t exactly strike you as the type to be monogamous and exclusive to one woman. Firefighters were notorious for infidelity and that asshole constantly bragged about his conquests. Although you couldn’t take him seriously half the time. A real, true healthy relationship would be all but impossible with him. It was a tug of war with this man and you were exhausted from playing. You’d been hurt before and you didn’t want to experience that pain again.

“And what would make you say such a horrible thing like that, Robin?” “That lovely little pile of gifts you hauled in here the other day and the fact that you’ve been at this for almost a week. Putting all of this time and effort into planning a birthday? I don’t think you’d do that for just anyone. Even if it was just a bet..” affirming with a sip of wine. She had a point but you weren’t exactly going to admit it either..

“Yeah, well the only thing I want to give him is a goddamn knuckle sandwich with a side of fruit punch.” A comment that nearly made her spit up her fresh sip from laughter. She could see through you like a pane of glass! It was blatantly obvious just how much you adored this guy and although it wasn’t the typical bond for budding lovers, they were mutual if nothing else. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think he truly feels ill will towards you. The exact opposite honestly. If anything, I think it comes from a place of adoration. He’s obviously quite fond of you, otherwise, he wouldn’t be on your case as much. I think what you’re doing for him is going to mean far more than some overly lavish party with a bunch of people. I don’t know him very well and please feel free to correct me but…he seems like a genuinely good guy. A little misguided sometimes but he has a good heart, ya’ know? The way he rushed over to comfort you, even though his own eyes looked exhausted? He seems like he just needs someone to take care of him for once.”

you hated more than nothing else that Robin was always right! Maybe it was a bit selfish of you to not consider how he’d felt. There was obviously a reason he didn’t want to celebrate his birthday. It had been a sore subject one way or another so it was your job to give him a reason to enjoy it again. And you could lie to yourself but deep down, you wanted to see this through as well. Not just to clear the debt but to see him genuinely happy. Smiling and laughing for himself..not just to cheer up others. “Jesus, it’s hard being friends with a doctor. They always know what they’re talking about.” Sending Robin into a fit of chuckles yet again. “Well honey, even all of these degrees can’t solve matters of the heart. Trust me, I know the feeling of loneliness all too well and he’s certainly in need of someone to let him know he has a place in this world and his day of birth is not something to feel ashamed of.”

Just then, you’d hear the front door creak open and you were promptly joined by Nami and her longtime partner, Vivi who were both looking to interrupt the conversation. They had just returned from the store to retrieve your libations for the evening. “Mind if we join you ladies?” Brandishing two bottles of champagne, beelining for the kitchen to grab glasses. “It’s almost new years, girls. Let’s party!” The cavalry had arrived and it was time to set this aside and let loose. Tomorrow, you’d be celebrating for an entirely different reason and you hoped that he would share the enthusiasm someday.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

page break and time skip because this is already long, I’m sorry!) ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

6:00PM, January 1st

“Jesus, rookie. Do you have molasses in your ass or something? I swear you take forever to get ready.”

an agitated voice rang out through the bathroom door of the hotel suite where you had been residing for the day. A king size bed positioned in the center, surrounded by clothing you’d strewn aside. Luckily, you’d tipped the housekeeping staff generously to not only spruce it up but to have it prepared when you returned from dinner. It would be the final touch on what was shaping up to become the ideal birthday. Aside from his obligatory smartass remarks, Ace really seemed to be having a good time. Even if you could sense his reservations to enjoy himself..everything had been a success so far. See, you had begun the day bright and early, five am to be precise; setting the trap for this illustrious surprise. You texted him under the guise of wanting to meet up for a morning hike, which wasn’t out of the ordinary, as it wasn’t uncommon for you two to train together. But strictly professional, mainly because Zoro’s freakishly strenuous training would kill you and Sanji wouldn’t be able to contain himself watching your tits jiggle whilst you ran. You told him to bring his gear, which he did so..you guys met up at your usual spot, the entranceway to Twin Flames Peak and began the trek up the canyon . Although he was making his usual comments, you could tell his mood was a bit more somber than usual. He sucked at hiding his emotions, that much was apparent. But you only sensed so because you were alike in that regard and so many others. Finally, you made it up to the top. But it was there that with your back facing him, you’d place your hands to your hips and laugh, making him fear you were about to do something heinous.

“Would you stop being so damn sad? It’s your birthday for god’s sake, at least smile a little. I know you’re getting old but I’m not used to seeing you without that stupid ass grin. It scares me.”

to which he’d audibly yet softly gasp. There was no way you of all people had remembered that! Although you teased about hating each other, it was the furthest thing from..even so, you kept your distance in personal affairs outside of sex. It’d feel too intimate and getting attached was something both of you feared. But that was all but thrown out of the window when you gave him his first gift of the day. “What?.. you didn’t think I’d remember, did you? Well too bad, you’re stuck with me and you’re gonna have a good time whether you want to or not. You’ve got a big day ahead of you. The only thing I want is for you to enjoy yourself..you have to promise me that.” His dumbfounded expression soon curved into a toothy smile, along with a hearty cackle. You managed to get one over on him and if nothing else, he could grant you that! You’d instruct him to search his bag, to which he’d find a card..sealed in a bow. How you’d manage to sneak that in, he’d never know but once he opened it, he nearly collapsed. Inside was a photo of him and his parents. He hadn’t seen either of them in years due to his work and then living states away back home but you could tell he loved them dearly. His mom had experienced some health issues recently but thankfully she was doing better but it was looking grim for a while. He’d call them every week, especially his mother whom he bonded with the most. So you took the liberty of reaching out and having them record a nice message to their son, wishing him a happy birthday. Telling him how proud they were and how much they loved him. He was already emotional and the sun had barely risen.

“Damn you, rookie. Who put you up to this?” Sniffling and laughing through tears. Because there was no way you were doing this of your own volition. Which was halfway true. Although you lost the bet, you’d still gone far overboard from what anyone expected. Spending rent like prices on this man and planning out an extravagant schedule. Even other first responders from his academy class who were no longer working for a set company came to fill in for the couple days. Turning on your heel, you’d giggle and walk towards him, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Oh Ace, my sweet dumb boy, you’re so cute thinking that anyone alive could tell me what to do. Now let’s go before we miss our check in time at the hotel.” “Hotel? Makes me sound like a cheap slut you’re renting out for the day.” “You are a slut, my dear but you most certainly aren’t cheap.” Having checked in for two days. And already, it was shaping up to be a wonderful day. From there, you two would head to the Laporte Hotel in the next town over, where you’d be spending the day. The car ride back was much more lively as the two of you laughed, spoke and talked about different things. The most amicable you’d ever been. He’d tell you about his upbringing and how he’d grown up with Luffy and his other adoptive brother. He’d talk about cooking and helping around the house for his mom and hunting with his dad. He was genuinely excited and a part of you thought it was the cutest thing. Next on the docket was breakfast..you took him to this bistro where you guys had eaten once when you were invited to a summit for firefighters on public safety. You recalled the first time you saw him in that dress uniform. Hat and white gloves accenting the ensemble..he looked so good! You hated to admit it but that charisma and confidence he exuded while delivering his speech was such a turn on. His favorite thing on the menu were the crepes and you ordered him the biggest stack he could eat. You two chowed down on delicious foods before checking in with bags in tow. You even managed to snap a couple of photos and videos of him, wearing a bright smile in case he decided to lie and say he didn’t enjoy himself. He entered the room and jumped on the bed like a child..causing you to shake your head.

“Would you get down from there?! You know you’re getting up there in age, old man. One wrong move and that hip is out of place.” To which he retorted and stuck his tongue out. “I’m twenty eight not ninety eight, you smartass. Besides, I think you of all people know how great of shape I’m in.” Flashing you a wink, which only prompted you to snark your lips before turning around to pin your hair up before going to the pool. Platinum gray tresses atop your head from that new install you’d gotten. In all fairness, it was his fault it had to be redone anyway so you figured you’d change it up entirely. He wasn’t mad in the slightest because that color complimented your skin so well. “If you’re referring to that weak ass stroke game of yours, spare me—“ but it wasn’t even a full second before you could finish the sentence before you found yourself tousled over his shoulder with your half covered asscheek being smacked. “Oh shut up. You didn’t even believe that when you said it.” Cackling before tossing you onto the bed for a little pregame makeout session. It was nice, honestly and from the way he was kissing and caressing you, it was hard to tell who exactly was supposed to be getting pampered today! Even letting out a whimper when he licked and bit on your neck. “I know what I want more than anything today..” “..mmm, what’s that?” and his response: “that’s a secret. Classified information..” The spontaneity of his was such an attractive trait..a man of adventure and strong will. “Save your energy, baby boy. You’re gonna need it for later…”

but unbeknownst, he had no interest in waiting to unwrap his most sought after gift. It was around noon time when you guys hit the giant indoor pool. Filled with crystalline blue waters and most importantly, it was heated because the one outside was more than likely freezing. Swimming around and splashing water on each other. You’d even rent out the private jacuzzi, where he’d down flutes of champagne. Something he never thought he’d do in his entire life! Ace grew up in rather humble beginnings and in rough terrain. His entire life consisted of rough conditions..now here he was being catered to like a damn princess! It wasn’t his style in the slightest but it was something he could acclimate to, at least for a day or so..

“Never thought I’d be day drinking in a fucking jacuzzi like a divorced aunt but here I am.” Uttering with his arms outstretched as you swam over to him. “Well even a jackass like you deserves nice things every once in a while.” Teasing as you rubbed on his bare chest, trailing over his tattoo. Still insisting on committing to the bit of insulting him. Honestly, he wouldn’t want it any other way though! It was his favorite part of your charm and it showed that you guys shared a bond that he couldn’t with any other woman. He liked that you challenged him..that you made it worth the chase. He’d wear you down eventually and when he did, the moment would be that much sweeter. “God, I can’t wait to shut that pretty little mouth of yours later..” setting the tone for the sexual tension that was sure to be insurmountable by the end of the night. “We’ll see. You should know by now you can’t tame a girl like me.” Flicking your tongue around those glossed lips before wrapping them around your champagne flute, which made him twitch behind those swim trunks.

his resolve proved to be rather weak because the second you made it back to the room, swaddled in warm towels to dry your damp bodies, he’d just have to get himself a small sample. You’d been straddling his thigh in the water and although you were floating intermittently, you could feel that cock growing erect when you brushed it. So once that door was locked, you’d find yourselves in the shower..tongues deep down each other's throats; your head spun around as he fed you back shots. Holding the center of your stomach whilst he did so. From the bathroom back to the bed, your nude bodies made contact with the cool air as he flicked his tongue around on that exposed clit. Spreading you open on the crisp sheets and devouring that sloppy cunt. Slurping on that bud with strings of spit fluttering all around those plump lips..enjoying his feast. “..c’mon, baby. It’s my birthday…I think I deserve a little treat.” Taunting for his reason as to why he couldn’t hold back his urges. Hopelessly moaning and rutting the mattress as he spouted all sorts of debaucherous thoughts. Your white painted toes resting atop his shoulder blades as those brown eyes darted back into your skull and your breath caught. “I see one of my wishes came true. Finally got you to shut the fuck up.” “You got lucky. That’s it.” Even gliding a hand up to your throat for added pleasure. You were in for it today, that was certain! The remainder of the afternoon was spent lounging and lazing around, a luxury that didn’t come often in your profession. You spent every waking moment thinking of the dangers that surrounded you. You had witnessed gruesome scene after gruesome scene and oftentimes, the only way to cope was through your vices. It felt nice not to have that lingering over your head for at least a day. Your head on his chest as you slept and naturally, he took the opportunity to plant a few kisses on your forehead, along with snapping pictures of you with drool seeping from your mouth!

finally, the moment had arrived and the two of you were setting out for dinner at Viva!, the Latin fusion lounge that had been all the rave around here. You told him that you wouldn’t do anything too extravagant but you couldn’t help but to splurge a little. The two of you spent the next couple of hours getting ready. You’d FaceTime your friends whilst patting on makeup with cameos from the birthday boy himself. They were thrilled to see him enjoying himself..and the both of you looked absolutely stunning! Ace dressed in a black button down with the chest slightly open. Short sleeves to display his array of artwork..a gold plated belt buckle with the Gucci emblem in the center of his waist with black slacks on and suede loafers on his feet. The face of his gold wristwatch reflecting from the light, fragrant scent of cologne wafting from his body. He looked and smelled absolutely delectable. Unraveling your curls from underneath your bonnet, (y/n) sat before the vanity mirror with your makeup setting. It was whilst you were applying your lipstick that he’d steal another kiss. Swatting him away, you’d try to stop him before your hard work was muddled. “You’re going to ruin my makeup, quit!” Attempting to evade his barrage of smooches. But he was insatiable, absolutely enthralled with how beautiful you looked. “Might as well get a head start.” Only earning him a deep scoff and a hard eye roll!

“You’re impossible. I’m going to put on my dress, I’ll be ready in a minute and try not to beat your dick while I’m gone, you pervert.” “That honor goes all to you, my beloved.”

rising from your seat and strutting over to the bathroom, where you’d strip from your coverup and begin to place on the ensemble of the evening; a form fitting red dress with velvet material and a thigh high split. Strappy heels curling your calves and jewelry adorning your neckline and ears. Almost entirely different contrasts from your day jobs..it’d be hard to even recognize the two of you without yellow armored suits and soot covering your faces. You had to admit, it felt nice to be dressed up for an occasion that didn’t involve work conferences. You had been in there a little too long for his liking, mainly because he was growing impatient and wanted to see the final product. In truth, he was sweating bullets, wondering just how he’d react to seeing you all dolled up..knowing you’d gone through the trouble just for him. Even his palms perspired..

“Jesus, rookie. Do you have molasses in your ass or something? I swear you take forever to get ready.”

but you wouldn’t keep him in suspense for long. He’d rise to his feet and moments later, he’d be graced with the sight of quite possibly the most beautiful thing he’d ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. “Don’t rush me. I know it’s your birthday but you don’t have to be a jerk..so, what do you think?” the door swung open and you came strutting out, an absolute vision of beauty and the sole object of his desire! Ace couldn’t even fathom what he was feeling. His eyes stretched wide open and voice caught in his throat. If you guys stayed in this room any longer, he had no guarantee you'd make it out! So he’d merely grasp your hand, placing a gentle peck atop it. No jokes or snide remarks. “..you look absolutely beautiful, mi amor.” The compliment brought you sheer butterflies. Smirking as he led the two of you out of the room. Tonight was sure to be one for the books.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Viva! was unlike any other place either of you had frequented before. Ambient orange lighting set the tone for the atmosphere..lively music thumping through the speakers with Spanish lyrics and sleek, elegant interior. You guys arrived right at the rush..the late night date crowds and parties of young people chopping it up. It was bustling but amid all the chaos, Ace only had eyes for you..

“Alright, so I gotta ask and you better be honest with me.”

surrounded by a table full of emptied plates that were once carefully curated and styled with beautiful dishes, now consumed along with intricately mixed drinks, you guys sat across from one another, discussing the day and various other topics. Akin to that of a real couple..

“Go for it.”

“So why do you hate celebrating your birthday so much? I mean, it’s the one day out of the year that you get to feel special. It doesn’t make sense.” It was something that you and everyone else was dying to know as well. But the answer wasn’t exactly a simple one either. Truth be told, it had always been a sore subject for the vice fire chief. It started in his youth and the habit had stuck with him ever since. A secret he’d disclose only to you.

“Truth be told…my family was really poor growing up. My brothers and I were raised by our grandparents mainly, because our parents were in and out of trouble. Not that I hold it against them or anything because they were products of their environment, I still love them..but we had to grow up pretty fast because of that. We didn’t have time to focus on trivial things like birthdays, we had to survive and that was our only goal. So I guess it stuck, y’know? As you get older, the less people tend to care about those things. It’s just another day..” suddenly, you’d feel your heart sink and become heavy with a tinge of sadness. This entire time you’d spent giving him hell and he’d come from the very same side of the tracks you had. You two weren’t all that different, maybe that’s why you couldn't stand him because he was all too familiar..reminding you of your own trauma and upbringing. Without saying a word, he’d continue on with his speech. Continuing to pour your heart out now that you had him feeling sentimental..

“…I know you were probably convinced by my brothers and the guys at the firehouse to take me out. Hell, I don’t think anyone would willingly want to be around me this long. Even so, I appreciate you, rookie. For all of this. It means a lot.” ..in that moment, something within you broke. Those steel, guarded walls that had been shielding your heart finally began to crack. In that moment, Robin’s words would begin to sound off in your ear and all you could do is laugh. She was right! Dammit..she was always right. This man was so much more than what you thought of him and it took this whole ordeal to come to grips with that. Lowering your head, you’d begin to chuckle and reach over for his hand.

“You really are dumb. How many times do I have to tell you..no one gives me orders. Not even you..I’m exactly where I want to be right now. So enjoy yourself and stop acting as if you’re wrong for finally doing something nice for yourself. It’s your night.”

it was all he needed to hear, honestly. So he’d do exactly that! He’d indulge in all of the drinks, laugh until his stomach hurt, he’d even ask for your hand in a dance. Promptly teaching you how to do a quick bachata. He truly had fun, and for the first time in his young life, he lived without guilt or consequence. No limitations or reservations and he allowed himself to enjoy the things he denied himself for so long. Peace, happiness and selfishness. For one night, it was all about Ace! The staff would come out with sparklers blazing around a tray with a slice of lava cake plated in the middle. Reading ‘Happy Birthday Ace’ around the perimeter. He’d stare at the dessert, contemplating for a moment before you spoke.

“Well, what are you gonna wish for?” And he knew just the thing..the only thing he wanted..blowing out the single candle as he closed his eyes and set his manifestation into the universe. You’d catch the whole thing on film to commemorate the moment. It was a night that would remain freshly implanted in your memories for a long time. But it was far from over..

so fast forward an hour or so..from a quick Uber ride across town to the hotel elevator where you couldn’t keep your hands..or lips to yourselves, you’d vehemently make out the entire way to the room. Tipsy on one another with both alcohol and admiration..peeling each other out of those clothes and whispering naughty nothings into each other's ears. Him telling you how he was going to make you come until your mind went blank..and how you were going to let him use your mouth and throat to his heart's content. So debaucherous and lewd, but the steamy moment was only set to intensify. Because while you were gone, the hotel staff was equipping your suite with more of that delicious champagne from earlier, along with strawberries, ice, chocolate sauce and a few other things. He had no idea what was coming to him. As quiet as it was kept, you’d always wanted to spoil your partner like this and although your relationship was fairly complex, you’d take this all the same. So with pure lust fueling you, you’d rip one another out of those designer threads, letting them fall to the floor before you’d jump into his arms and he'd place you on the bed where he wasted not another moment utilizing those delicacies left here.

“Strawberries and chocolate, huh? If I didn’t know any better, rookie..I’d say you were a little freak. What’s next, handcuffs?” “Oh please, this pussy drives you crazy enough as is. You sure as hell wouldn’t leave me alone if I pulled that out.”

the real reason he couldn’t get rid of you is because you matched his wit perfectly! Always with a slick remark to his jokes. With you sprawled out before him, completely on display for his taking, you’d lie there as he dredged a strawberry over your lips before allowing you to suckle on it. Meanwhile, his fingertips, brandishing a piece of ice, slowly trailed down your torso all the way to your sensitive center. He watched your reactions in real time. Seeing you writhe, whimper and moan; begging him for more with your reactions. Tongue extended and lapped over that strawberry before biting into it. “More, baby? Is that what you want?” Taunting the question whilst that ice cube resided over your clit. Making it melt with the direct reaction to your sticky heat..such a beautiful sight. “Yes!..please..” the first time in a while since he’d heard you in such a submissive manner. He wanted you so badly..to sink his cock into you once more but he wanted to truly get you so stimulated and aroused, you wouldn’t be able to bear another moment without him. Very lightly coating his fingers in that sweet sauce, he’d allow you to suck every remnant of it off whilst still circulating that cube over your bud. Positioning that head up as if he were cradling you. “Good girl..show me how you’re gonna use that mouth. Keep sucking like that and I’ll let you get the real thing..” just that quickly, he’d turn you from sarcastic, snarky brat to his obedient, whiny slut. He couldn’t ask for more!

Ace persisted with his foreplay for as long as he saw fit; bringing you to the edge of climatic bliss, only to snatch it away. Upon training your mouth, he’d graduated you from strawberries and fingers to the beaming tip of his cock. Positioned on his knees as he instructed you to keep yours parted whilst his fingers explored your dripping core. Maneuvering around to stretch that tight little cunt to his liking. Meanwhile, your throat served as merely a vessel for his unrelenting pleasure. Gagging erupting as he pushed and forced your head down onto his shaft. Becoming far more aggressive than he was prior. It seemed that he was finally sick of showing restraint. “That’s it, baby…take it deep. Take that fucking dick down your throat. Gag on it—fuck, just like that.” His deep tone teeming with lust. Meanwhile, the only thing that you could do was whimper, moan and gurgle as he used your mouth so carelessly. Those eyes were smeared with the beautiful application of makeup you had worked so hard on. You looked an absolute mess but your body told a different story. That juicy little center was leaking from this brutal treatment. Loving the sensation brought forth by being manhandled. Choked, slapped and even your jaws getting filled with globs of saliva. Swallowing and licking his balls as he jerked himself above your face. “Yeah, look at me while you do it, baby. Let me see how much you love being my little slut.” He may have been bashful but the two places his confidence shone were on the battlefield and in the bedroom. This man was like an entirely different person behind closed doors. One you’d gladly allow you to use your body in any way he saw fit. “What do you say when I spit in that pretty mouth, huh? Don’t tell me you forgot your manners..” “..thank you, daddy. Give me more, please.” To which he’d oblige. Before long, you found yourself on top of him, positioned perfectly on his cock as it resided in your hilt. Although you were a complete wreck already, he was far from done. He wanted to claim you in mind, body and spirit..have you so addicted, you would feel like oxygen had escaped your lungs when he wasn’t around. Turned in a reverse cowgirl position, Ace clutched your hips and guided you up and down to his leisure. Your pussy stuffed to the brim and throbbing around his cock. All you could do was gasp as those hard thrusts jolted you around.

“You didn’t think I’d take it easy, did you? Nah, baby. I wanna hear you fucking scream. I want you coming all over this dick..”

firm in his intent, roughly bucking those hips into the plump of your ass. When you couldn’t contain yourself, he’d take the liberty of folding your legs behind your head in a sitting full nelson. An intricate but effective position. One he could claim that cunt in without limitations. Your eyes would fluctuate between open and closed, stuck in your skull and front and center. Your entire body was riddled with ecstasy and it wouldn’t be long until you’d find yourselves reaching that breaking point. Even so, it didn’t stop either of you from wanting more than your share. You wanted it to hurt..to feel every part of him. To fuck his frustrations, emotions and all out on you. All those times he couldn’t have a happy ending. For when he’d spent another year getting older but all alone..drowning his sorrows in a bottle, you wanted tonight to be the atonement for that. For him to feel nothing but joy!

“Oh my God! Right there, baby. Please..take this pussy. It’s yours..fuck—“

so through all of the salacious cries and dirty desires, you wanted to know above all else..he was special.

“Yeah? It’s all mine?” His tone was still rough but cooing as he relentlessly pounded up into you. Forcing tears down your cheek. Although they were purely of joy. That much was apparent by the look on your face. You were in utter bliss. So full of ecstasy and happiness! You’d never felt anything like this. What was it?…it was far more than just the normal lust you two experienced together. “God, I love this pussy so much..I love you. I love you so much, baby. Oh my gosh, I can’t get enough of it..” admitting so carelessly. He had no regrets. He’d known that he’d felt that way from the very start and maybe the alcohol made it easier to admit but he was done pretending. You were the only woman for him! So through tear filled eyes, you’d pant and try to hold it in, along with that brimming orgasm, but you couldn’t any longer.

“I love you more! I love you so much, Ace…please, I need you..”

those words were the ones he’d been dying to hear all along and he could tell you meant it. Meant every one..all he could do was think about how relieved he was. His heart couldn’t stop beating and neither of you could stop crying. It made an already surreal moment even more magical. When he’d instruct you to release at the same time as him. On the count of three, your trembling bodies explode like fireworks in a fit of pleasure and passion. The intensity dredged up so many feelings but only one thing was for certain when he found the strength to reposition you onto your back..cradling your face into his palm as he hoped to quell you. Telling you how great of a job you’d done. He had to know, he had to say it for real this time.

“Did you mean that, baby? Do you really love me?..” and it was simple. It was the same a million times over:

“Yes…I love you, Ace. And I’m so sorry it took me this long to realize it. You were never my enemy. I should’ve seen that sooner. I hope you can forgive me.”

touching his face and swiping his tears away with your thumb. All he could do was sob tears of utter bliss in that moment. He was finally able to be vulnerable, no longer able and not needing to hold back his emotions. It made you see just how much he needed you all the same. “Wait, what’s wrong?” You were worried. But truthfully, there was no need. Because as it turns out, you’d granted him the one thing he’d wanted more than any shoes or watches out of today and that was your heart! He wanted to hear you finally utter those words and he got it. To him, this was hands down the best birthday ever!

“Nothing at all. It’s just that..all my wishes came true tonight. If that’s not heaven smiling down on me, I don’t know what is.” “Because no one deserves it more than you..happy birthday, my love.”

and you only hoped that you’d get to experience so many more by his side!

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵

@ichigosluvrr @dancingwithdeities @hoesluvshanti

[zhongrin]

gemesin

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, xiao, childe, al haitham, tighnari, kazuha, cyno, scaramouche, diluc

◇ tags ◇ more teeth-rotting floof what did you expect, slightly suggestive (al haitham)

◇ note ◇ translated to english, means “adorable” or “cute”

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

some (or in some of these cases, most) people wouldn't associate the word “cute” with your boyfriend, but you beg to differ.

the way he just hovers and lingers over you whenever he wants your company but doesn’t want to disturb you. if you keep ignoring him, he wouldn’t even realize it himself, but he’ll give you a wet puppy (hatchling?) look. at first, you might have thought that your eyes were playing tricks on you, but if you glance through the mirror - yup, there it is. best abandon whatever you’re doing and give him some attention now.

Ꮺ 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 — 9/10

once in a while, upon your continuous insistence, xiao will transform into his bird form. a tiny little thing, with magical blue-green feathers and a darker color on his beak, his signature golden eyes no longer catlike but beady-looking. his favorite nest? the top of your head. yes, he will peck anyone who troubles you without hesitation. yes, he will tuck his head under his wings when he sleeps. and yes, he absolutely enjoys the head pats and chin scratches you give him while he's in this form.

Ꮺ 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 — 10/10

drunk kazuha and severely sleepy kazuha has one thing in common: they’re utterly, completely, earth-shatteringly endearing. he’s whinier, more giggly than normal, and is very easily entertained by the slightest things. the simplest action like you booping his nose can instantly make a loopy smile spread across his lips and a breathy giggle escape his throat. oh, and did i tell you that he’s more honest and needier than usual in these states, too?

Ꮺ 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 — 9.9/10

when he pouts and whines and pouts and whines and burrows his face onto your stomach like a cat. maybe you didn't give him enough cuddles? forgot to give him his morning kiss? you’re not too sure, but you’re very sure that the way he puffs his cheeks as he gives you an expectant look is just plain adorable.

Ꮺ 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 — 9.5/10

this big, stoic-looking man has no weakness…. well, two weaknesses. the first one being you, and the second one being tickle fights. yes, he’s ticklish. yes, you probably discovered this because of kaeya’s big mouth. yes, you most definitely should test the theory. and if you have the physical abilities to catch up with the darknight hero, you might even be able to see a breathless, teary-eyed diluc laughing and almost choking on his own spit because he’s struggling to hold back his laughter as your fingers work their magic on that specific spot on his sides.

Ꮺ 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 — 7/10

the momentary drop in his expression as you catch him off guard on one of his rare days is truly a sight to remember. his eyes widening a fraction and his lips parting a tad, body flinching and frozen as his brain tries to kickstart and amend his reaction to a more subdued one. how does one achieve this seemingly impossible feat, you ask? well... either you do something entirely stupid (please note that you might be subjected to a two hours lecture after this) or you do something entirely inappropriate (like pulling him into a kiss in broad daylight in public, but then again, you might regret the consequences later)

Ꮺ 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 — 6.5/10

his ears, his ears, his ears. they’re sometimes even more expressive than his expressions, it’s worth dedicating an entire journal to observe and document their movements. his fox instincts are also very adorable, especially when he’s unconsciously trying to groom his ears and tails whenever his guard is down and he thinks that no one’s around. not many things can rival that endearingness... except perhaps the sight of the sulky pout on his lips when he presents himself to you after his grooming session and you don’t comment on it.

Ꮺ 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 — 8/10

when you reply to his bad joke with another bad joke. he’s so lost. and it shows in the way his eyes widen as he stares at you silently, head tilted a tad to the sides, his lips apart. you can literally hear the neurons in his brain working overtime to try and decipher your words. and the confused-slash-slightly-embarrassed lilt of his voice as he asks you to explain? it’s guaranteed to make you want to pinch his cheeks and kiss his nose.

Ꮺ 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 — 8.5/10

yeah no, there’s nothing cute about this prickly man…… unless. unless you manage to be the love of his life and earn his complete trust. it’ll take you years and the stars need to align perfectly and you'll need the blessings of all seven archons, but you might get the chance to see the rarest phenomenon in all of teyvat: a sleepy scaramouche, woken up from his slumber, clinging desperately to you when he senses you moving away from him on the bed. he looks like a cat that fell into the bathtub and is only halfway dried with all his hair sticking all over the place like that, but the cutest thing has to be the sleepy pout and the soft whines of “mm, stay with me please…”

Ꮺ 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 (surprisingly) — 9.5/10 (normally -5/10)

© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

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[thexianzhoujade]

「 just breathe | kai's 2024 birthday special! 」 jing yuan & blade x gn!reader | hurt/comfort, nightmares | birthday fanfiction. ↳ additional tags. reader with ptsd (yet again, self indulgent for my bday!) but you can read it as reader with just nightmares in general!! ooc jing yuan & blade, kinda soppy/fluff with angsty themes. ↳ happy birthday to me part one! this is the honkai edition, there's a genshin special scheduled for later today!

data has been uploaded! - send an ask to join the taglist; specify genshin, honkai or both! @lovingluxury, @dumbificat, @starryshinyskies, @ryuryuryuyurboat, @ainescribe

the jade's guidelines | honkai masterlist | bday m.list | previous work

you could never forget the silk sheets that line your shared bed with JING YUAN, an aspect of the luxuries that the xianzhou alliance bathe themselves quite fondly over the years of their long-life species' existence. you would tease jing yuan that perhaps it was the xianzhou natives' way of comforting themselves after what happened regarding their ancestors but the more you considered it, the more highly likely it felt to be true.

every night you'd fall asleep in these sheets without fail, drowning amongst their soft touch that brushes against your skin. it slides against your every limb, wrapping itself around your body for comfort whenever you're forced to go to bed without jing yuan at your side; there'd be numerous occasions, ones that he was always forced to deal with. you'd always see the way his eyes soften and shift away from you when he admits that he'd be late to bed. it was always work related, of course it was, he was the esteemed general of the cloud knights, the luofu's very own divine foresight.

you could never be mad at him, you were lucky enough to even be on the arm of the general. in your eyes, there was no way you could complain about his workload interrupting things except when it weighs down on him, dragging on his ankles and his shoulders to the point where all he can do is smile and keep napping - this is normal behaviour you've adjusted to but where's that small smirk that you love so much?

unfortunately, there's a nagging that weighs you down too. even though you don't explicitly mention it to jing yuan, he's more than aware. he's by no means stupid and he's actually incredibly observant, especially for you, his dearest partner. he's been awake on more than one occasion when your peaceful sleep is disrupted, your brows furrowed as you clutch at the sheets - naively unaware of his presence in the first place.

the silence will fill with struggled whimpers and gasps for breath, evolving into tears you might not even know slip from your closed eyes, squeezed shut as if trying to wake yourself up. these things haunt you, remind you of your struggles and where life has taken you. jing yuan has never been one for interrupting your rest, after all you've never once disturbed him but he knows he can't let you lay there, thrashing as you cry. not only for your sake but his own, when it breaks his heart to even witness it.

jing yuan will force himself to disturb you, strong arms wrapping around you and fighting against every thrash and struggle your emotionally weak body fights with until you calm against the comfort of his chest, breaking out into muffled sobs as your knuckles go white clutching onto him. he'll let out a breath, noting that you're awake when you choke out his name between gasps for breath.

"just breathe," he coos, a large hand smoothing down your back as his face buries into your hair. long, white hair drapes over his shoulders, tickling at your nose now that it's not tied up with a red ribbon, "it's okay, i'm here."

never once has jing yuan pressed into what your nightmare was about, simply listening as you follow his instructions and take a deep breath, trying to regulate as your body calms. there's a soft sniffle every now and then, his chest damp from where you've been sobbing but he'd rather it be like this instead of the bedsheets from where you've struggled alone.

every time it'll break his heart but he'll do it over and over again, knowing that his mere presence is what soothes you and keeps the tormenting demons at bay. maybe you'll never say it to him but all you need in those moments is him and he's more than happy to hold your shaking body until you fall back asleep.

BLADE isn't a fool, in fact he has his own fair share of nightmares from the mara within him and his past deeds. even if he denies it, you're no fool too and you've been present many times when it comes to blade panicking in his sleep. you do know however not to wake him, aware of his violent tendencies - you could be anyone to him when he wakes up and despite putting every inch of your trust into him, you know that's something you can't risk with him.

the next morning, he'll always avoid your gaze. dark hair will hang over ruby red eyes, concealing them from your view as he goes about his business, still closely knit to your side. he's aware that you know, that you was there and you witnessed it. there's no convincing him for a moment that he can trust you enough just to receive some form of comfort, even if it's hours later when dawn is breaking and in his eyes, just another day begins.

despite his avoidance of the topic when it revolves around him, blade doesn't shy away from your nightmares at all. in fact, considering how well acquainted he is with them - and dealing with them alone, - blade is way more comforting than many may suspect when it comes to your nightmares. it can be a surprising addition to the relationship at first when you experience the first night of having a harsh nightmare while the two of you share a bed.

blade isn't afraid to give you a snap back to reality in the moments you need it the most. in his eyes it's better than letting you lay there and struggle, your body thrashing on woven sheets that are soft from the fabric detergent you'd recently swapped to. when your relationship had started, he'd been against the idea of you staying with him at the stellaron hunters' headquarters but blade was observant enough to notice how often you had nightmares when he'd come to visit your home outside of work. he'll never admit it out loud but that's what changed his mind about where you slept at night.

there's a cold exterior that your boyfriend wears but deep inside, he can't bear the sight of seeing you go through it. he can't bear to hear the way you cry out his name, wrapping your arms around his neck as he gently shakes you awake to wake you up from the horrors you were witnessing. that's why he'll clutch your body into his, never letting go even after you've calmed down. his fingers dig slightly into your soft flesh, his face buried into your neck as he takes a moment for him too to calm down.

"blade? you can let go..." you mumble against his scarred shoulder, bandages decorating the flesh of his upper arm. he'll grunt in response, the cold tip of his nose pressing harder against your skin.

"just a little longer," he mutters in response, albeit a little stubbornly as his hug tightens for a moment, squeezing you reassuringly, "just... keep breathing for me."

you're okay, you're awake, your breathing is slowing down. he repeats these things to himself like a mantra, ruby eyes fluttering shut behind long, dark eyelashes as he presses chaste kisses to your shoulder. you personally never understood why he seemed so affected by your nightmares as the two of you curl back up, pressed together so intimately with the sheets draped over your bodies but blade knows he can't cope with the idea of seeing you in any form of pain, whether physical or mental.

if he could, he would take every inch and sliver of your pain for you. he'd carry the weight of your past and struggles, just to never see you sob from another nightmare ever again.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

© thexianzhoujade 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

[sadesluvr]

Sins of the Flesh

The one where a religious housewife fights temptation with her gardener.

(JJ Maybank x Reader)

A/N: Second JJ fic! (I haven't forgotten about The Hills!!) This was based off of Charlotte & Trey’s marriage in Sex and the City, specifically the episode where she kisses her gardener! Also, based off Gaby & John in Desperate Housewives, but less weird. Reader is literally the both of them combined, with religious guilt turned up to 100. Check the tags before reading, and minors DNI.

This is a long one, so the ending is a little rushed…Enjoy!

Also credit to @starfxkr and @dulc3vida for their lamb! readers which was a big inspo 🫶🏼✨

Word Count: 5K

Tags: SMUT / Slow burn / Themes of religion / Blasphemy / Infidelity / Cuckolding / Religious guilt / Lots of discussion about pregnancy / Misogyny, kinda / Kook! Reader / Moments of soft! JJ / Unprotected sex / Oral sex, F receiving / Creampies / Corruption & Religion kink / Dirty talk (JJ is a yapper)

Gif by @cyberpunkes !

Your dreams always started off the same.

The sun peeked through the sheer linen curtains, warm rays tickling your nose as it whispered to you that dawn had arrived. Gently, you brushed the sleep away from your eyes as you writhed amongst your silk white sheets, morning breeze making your sensitive nipples harden ever so slightly. As you awoke from your slumber, you stroked the opposite side of your bed, frowning as you found it to be empty.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, glancing around the room in search of something familiar. The hand carved dresser in the opposite corner? Check. Your Bible on the nightstand? Check. The soft, distant cries of a baby from another room? Unfamiliar.

It was always then that you’d wake up, coming to realise that your dream wasn’t so far from reality after all.

You lived on Figure Eight, a place where only the wealthiest and most desirable citizens resided in white palaces with acres of greenery surrounding them. Of course you were no exception; having married an heir to an automotive company just under a year ago.

It wasn’t as if you were unfamiliar to a life of luxury - you’d been born a preacher's daughter right up until you’d become a wife - and had always been told that God had intended for you to be more fortunate than those around you. Yes, you worshipped the crucifix, but yours had always been diamond encrusted. It was just what God wanted.

Much more than anything else, it was your duty to continue his wish by remaining a virgin until you were married, and subsequently continuing the lineage with children of your own.

Apparently, that part did not come as easy.

Hank, your husband, had insisted that it was nothing more than a case of trying, yet at every turn seemed to fail. You’d begun to have a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t a problem on your end, but his, despite his growing insistence otherwise.

Each passing day meant that your biological clock ticked away, and it was weighing on you that you were failing at the one thing you’d given most of your life towards. On days like these, the only thing that brought you peace was your garden, its lush greens and vibrant purples reminding you of the hours spent at the community garden of the chapel of your fathers church.

Things, whilst relatively breezy, just weren’t so simple anymore.

Gasping, you tightened your baby pink robe around your body as you dragged yourself out of bed, hoping to at least greet Hank with a beverage before he went to work.

You practically glided through the house as you made your way along the mahogany floors, down the grand staircase and out of the double doors, careful not to fall down the porch steps as the slight humidity hit you.

Your husband was by the steps, but he didn’t seem alone.

“Honey, I’m sorry, I —-“

You paused once you realised he was speaking to someone. A young man, with blonde hair, a loose fitting tee and shorts, was sitting on the stairs - as if he were being told off - his face seemingly lethargic and uninterested. You caught his eye as he angled to face you, and he quickly adjusted his cap, shifting the brim around so that he could see you clearer.

You flashed him a brief, somewhat uncomfortable smile before you were pulled into a side hug, with Hank placing a kiss to your lips.

“You were asleep, I didn’t want to wake you,”  Hank said softly. “We did get rather rowdy last night, didn’t we?” he murmured, and you patted his chest, not wanting an outsider to hear of such unsavoury things.

“This is the time, I feel it,” he announced before nodding at the blonde. “That’s why I’ve hired a gardener. Now I know you love your plants, and you can still go about the little things, but all that labour just isn’t going to work.” he told you. “We need you in top condition, especially once the baby arrives. The smallest things can affect our chances, you know.” he finished, and you nodded.

There was certainly no denying that Hank was a good husband. What man would want their young wife out in the North Carolina sun for upwards of two hours a day? Not to mention all of the wild plants that could’ve lurked. Even if you weren’t yet pregnant, it just made sense, right?

“I’ve given him a basic rate,” he said, adjusting his tie before lowering his voice. “Money’s on the table and our valuables are in the safe. He’s one of those Pogues…just watch him, you know how they are.” Hank warned quietly, but loud enough to assert dominance.

With a final kiss he was off, and you were left with the strange Pogue boy on the front porch. As odd as it sounded, perhaps the boy’s presence would be a blessing, for as much as you loved solitude, it was rather lonely at times. You supposed it would give you something to do.

“Blink twice if you need help,” a cool voice said, causing you to whip your head towards it. You hadn’t noticed that the blonde had been staring at you, nor that you’d been momentarily zoned out. 

“Kidding, I know how you Kooks operate…” he said, vaguely judgmental as he stood to his feet. Even though he was on the step below you, you couldn’t help but notice that he was bigger than you, in height and muscle, making you step back in shock and bunching your robe up in your hands.

“I’m not going to do anything to you, Lady. I’m just here for the money. ‘Names JJ by the way,” he said, and you were surprised to see him stick out his hand.

Regaining your senses, you shook it back, giving him your name and a soft smile. He didn’t respond, instead allowing for a smirk to appear across his face before shoving his hands into his pockets.

“So, uh, where d’ya want me to start?”

༼ ♰ ༽

The first time you’d had an unsavoury encounter with JJ Maybank had actually been later that day. The boy hadn’t been shy - in the slightest - about staring at you, peeking over the bushes as he watched you prune your bonsai on the deck, face as close as possible to its leaves as you made sure it was immaculate. Unfortunately, this had meant that you were hunched over, giving the blonde a view of the top of your cleavage; not enough to be considered adulterous, but enough to tempt him into some lewd thoughts.

You’d made eye contact with him, and he’d made no effort to break it with yours, instead smirking and flashing you a disingenuous nod. Pursing your lips, you remembered the look in his eye; as if he were trying to figure you out and yet simultaneously seeing right through you. Being a preacher's daughter, it was a look you’d been given a thousand times before, and yet you’d never been so unsure of its intentions until now. Perhaps it was because he was a Pogue boy, and you were a Kook housewife, alone in a house together whilst your husband was at least an hour away. You’d heard all the stories about their savagery; how life in The Cut was so brutal that everyone was on edge, just waiting for an opportunity to go off.

What was JJ capable of? Would you be a good enough wife and Catholic to withstand it? 

More importantly, why did it worry you so?

“...The bush is lovely, by the way.”

His voice drew you from your thoughts.

“Excuse me?” you blinked.

“Your bush,” JJ said with a grin, pointing to the plant in front of you. “It’s all nice and shit. It’s trimmed perfectly,” he mused. “Either you’ve got a lot of time or you just have magic hands…That’s because of all your Jesus stuff, right?”

You sucked in a breath.

“I adore plants,” you said rather bluntly. “They keep me busy.”

“Funny. I usually prefer to smoke mine…I guess you don’t have much going on anyway,” he continued, dropping the hedge scissors to his side as he stopped his motions, giving you his full attention. “Other than what? Look pretty and have babies? You Kooks are swimming in so much you don’t even know where to begin —“

“Are you rather done?” You interjected, ignoring the fact that he’d complimented you. “We’re not paying you to talk.”

JJ chuckled and scratched the back of his head, seemingly enjoying your outburst.

“Hey,” he shrugged. “What your old man doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

༼ ♰ ༽

The other time came after a particularly strenuous lunch with Hank’s parents at the country club. As expected, you were met with the question of grandchildren, to which all you could do was nod and drink your sweet tea, insisting that you were “praying to God”. Of course, that wasn’t an entire lie within itself, but the nature of your prayer was much more defamatory to their very son - something that would make your father’s head spin with utter disgust if he’d ever heard. All of the trying, near misses and downright failures were beginning to take a toll on you, and the deepest, most hidden parts of yourself were questioning whether you wanted a baby at all.

Sighing, you remembered how you barely had had a break, as the moment you’d taken your heels off JJ had arrived - surprisingly on time - ready to get to work. It had seemed like he’d just come from the beach; his signature cap jumbled around his blonde locks and his button up rather undone, exposing his toned chest. Whether it had been from the droplets of the ocean, or beads of sweat from the long journey up, you found yourself strangely enticed by the condensation on his chest, only visible when illuminated by the sun, as if it were his own spotlight.

“Afternoon, ma’am,” JJ nodded, flashing you one of his signature cheeky smiles. You mustered a soft, vaguely curt smile, instead taking interest in his necklace. 

“Shark tooth,” he said, watching you with wide eyes. “I think it’s pretty cool, but I don’t think it would match with your getup…Those things eat girls like you alive,” he finished, running his tongue over his lips as he let out a smooth hum. 

Surprisingly, you laughed.

“I’m not a girl, JJ,” you insisted. “I’m a woman,”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, shifting his weight as he glanced at you, a distant, but glossy look in his eye. “You may be married, but you’re still just a little girl playing make-believe…You and I both know something’s missing.” he finished assuredly, cocking a brow knowingly. 

Instead, you bit the inside of your cheek and shook your head.

“Nothing’s missing,” you said through gritted teeth. “And even if it were, it’s between me and my husband.”

“And God?”

You tutted. 

“And God.”

You could hear him chuckle at this, and imagined his cheeky smile as you turned to make your way into the house, with JJ following after you, parting off into the garden as you disappeared into another room. 

You didn’t know how long later; perhaps thirty minutes or five, but you found yourself by the window to the back door, watching JJ through the sheer curtains as you took in his physique, specifically his lithe fingers and firm grip as they pushed the lawnmower. For some reason, he’d stripped his shirt off, and there was no denying that the sight was making you forget about your terrible afternoon, much more causing a tingling in your loins. You knew all too well that it was the feeling of sin.

Distracted, you hadn’t realised that JJ had caught you looking. He grinned, nodding his head in your erection before he hunched over the handle, flexing his chest muscles in the process.

“I hope you don’t mind, it's pretty hot out here,” he shrugged, a brazen glimmer in his eye before he glanced down at his body, and back up at you. “Plus, I know you liked the look of my necklace, so…”

༼ ♰ ༽

“This is the third smoke sesh you’ve almost missed,” John B said, brow raised as Sarah nodded. “What’s up with that?”

JJ chuckled, shaking his head as he sat down on a chair next to Pope and leisurely cracked open a beer. Around him were faces of intrigue; though more concerned if anything (given his nature), and he tapped an index finger on his lips.

“Getting some of that sweet Kook cash, my friend,” he drawled. “You all should try it sometime,”

“Since when do you work overtime?” Kie snorted, cocking her head.

“Since the day I found out that the business dude's wife is a total MILF,” JJ shrugged, rolling a blunt. “And she’s not even pregnant yet!”

Kie and Sarah scoffed and rolled their eyes, with the tanned girl flicking her hair back before she spoke.

“You know she’s only like, 26, 27? Hank’s like 45 or something, it’s kinda weird…” Sarah said leisurely. “She seems sweet though, even if all the other wives are weird about her,”

JJ excitedly slapped the table before raising his hands in victory.

“So I’m in!” He declared before turning to Pope, who was, if not a little uncomfortable, certainly wide eyed. “I’m telling you, man, say the word and I can get you in on this. It’s like those movies, y’know? Except it’s way hotter because she’s like super religious and is practically a virgin…You should see the dresses she wears - oh, man - they’re like all girly and proper…She’s like the First Lady, bro — I’m telling you, I’m like, in love with her —“

Pope shook his head.

“...That’s not love, dude.” 

“It’s gotta be, cause we haven’t even hooked up yet,”

“Yet? She’s married!” Kie exclaimed.

“Marriage doesn’t mean shit, trust me,” JJ shrugged, leaning back as his legs bounced uncontrollably. “I’m this close!” he said, making a motion with his fingers.

“Hank will literally kill you!” Pope spluttered. “And by de facto that probably means us too!”

JJ shrugged, thinking of the way the sweetheart neckline of your sundresses clung to your chest and rode ever so slightly up your thigh as you’d sit down.

“Hey, of all the ways I could die, that would definitely not be the worst,”

༼ ♰ ༽

“Did you take it properly?”

“Yes, Hank,” you sighed, masking your frustration as much as possible. “It’s negative. Perhaps we should wait a while, maybe a family isn’t part of our journey yet —“

“Nonsense,” he interrupted, wiping his hand across his mouth. “We’re inviting the pastor over this Sunday and we’re talking this out. It may be embarrassing but…”

You couldn’t bring yourself to listen to him much longer. What more was there to say? You’d tried every diet, been to every specialist and had tried some rather strenuous positions in bed all to knock you up, and yet somehow it was still a problem on your end. Hank was a stubborn man, and no amount of prayer would change that.

Instead, you noticed JJ, leisurely cutting at your rose bush as he listened into your conversation, his head cocked and jaw clenched. He was dressed in one of his vests; the sides split dangerously low as they exposed his muscular arms and toned stomach, and you hated how much you wanted Hank to leave right there and then so he could peel it off and work shirtless. From your usual view by the window you never noticed how impressive his legs were either; how his calves curved perfectly as they rose up and disappeared into the material of his shorts, nor how they rode up slightly when he’d bend down, exposing his large thighs. He reminded you of all those boys - the ‘charlatans’ who, according to your father, only wanted you for one thing. 

It was painfully ironic that this was the one thing you were craving.

Hank was still talking - though the subject had inexplicably changed - when you noticed that JJ was staring at his index finger, squeezing it as red liquid oozed from his fingertip. Your eyes widened, and you seized the opportunity to finally send Hank away.

“Bandages are in the bathroom under the stairs,” you said, turning to the blonde, and breaking the older man from his thoughts. JJ nodded and walked off, all under the watchful eye of your husband.

“You shouldn’t let him in there alone,” he murmured, and you sighed, distracting yourself by fixing his collar.

“He’s been with us for three months now…I trust him,” you said softly with a shrug.

Hank grunted.

“Maybe if you stop talking, I could go in there and supervise him.” you said with a soft, inconspicuous chuckle. He seemed to get the point, and you quickly said your goodbyes, sending him off with a custom kiss to his lips. On all the other days you’d done this, it had felt special, but today it was noticeably empty. Perhaps you needed the pastor more than you’d thought.

As expected, JJ hadn’t returned outside, instead leaning over the marble countertops of your island, a bloodied tissue balled up in front of him. He looked a little different than he did in the direct sun; possibly due to the golden haze affecting your vision (and judgement), as the cool tones of the interior made the cerulean of his irises pop just a little more, showing off his pupils, widened under the wanting glaze in his eyes. You never felt scared around JJ - rather the opposite - but his fixed gaze and silence in the moment was particularly ominous. 

“...How’s your hand?” you said, clearing your throat.

“Fine,” he mumbled, glancing down at them before looking up. “I’ve had worse,”

“Let me see,” you announced, walking around the island to sit next to him, closing the gap between you. You took his lithe fingers in your own, analysing how red and raw his knuckles were. For a young man, his hands were somewhat aged; likely because of his life as a rogue, which both somewhat scared you and made you sympathise with him more. 

Fixating on his finger, you tried to ignore the way he leaned into you, shifting his weight so that he appeared taller, the warm skin of his arms pressing against your own. He smelt fresh, if not admittedly a little musty, and the smell mingled with your own daisy perfume, making your heart skip a beat.

“You’ve got a splinter,” you continued. “This has to be removed or it could get infected —“

“It’s not —“ JJ said defensively, and you cut him off with pleading eyes.

“Please, I insist,”

He softened, nodding his head before you moved around the room to find your first aid kit. You’d done it with such ease; as if you were some kind of Mary Poppins - or better yet the Virgin Mary - and he suddenly couldn’t seem to figure out whether he wanted to take advantage of your kindness, or be on the receiving end of it. As much as his cock throbbed at the idea of fucking the repressed, religious housewife and cucking her POS husband, he couldn’t help but think of all the times he’d fallen - literally and metaphorically - and all the times his ‘dad’ had hit on him, ultimately coming back to how much he’d needed someone to nurse his wounds. In an alternate world, you could’ve been that somebody, but he was lucky enough to have his friends.

Once you'd made your way back to him, you sat down on one of the stools, careful as you handled his slightly swollen finger, going through the motions of wiping it with antiseptic before you began to poke at the skin with tweezers.

Moments passed, and you’d spent it in silence.

“Any luck?” JJ perked up.

You nodded and wiped the tweezers on a section of gauze.

“It’s all out now, just make sure it’s cov—“

“With the baby,” he said, cutting you off. Your blood ran cold, and you dropped his hand, staring him in the eye. Part of you was mortified, no matter how obvious it had been that JJ was listening in earlier. 

“That is far too inappropriate to talk about with you,” you stammered.“And it’s really none of your business,”

JJ pursed his lips and flexed his limbs as he watched you scramble. It was as if this were amusing to him.

“My bad,” he snorted. “I just think he’s an asshole, y’know, and you’re so good to me…” he said, pausing to run his tongue over his lips as he stared at you. “Other than the money, why are you with him? Isn’t the whole point of the Bible to be nice to people and stuff?”

Pitifully, you chuckled at his childishness as you shook your head.

“It’s also about being a provider. He loves me, JJ, he really does —“

“Yeah, ‘cause you being a virgin had nothing to do with it…” he spat, causing you to anxiously tug at your crucifix,  “He can’t even give you a baby,”

“…I mean, that’s the thing you want most, right? What does it say that he can’t even give that to you?”

The statement rang true in your head as you ran your palms down the sides of your sundress, strangely desperate to hit something. Was that the right emotion? You couldn’t tell; you just knew that your body was hot, your heart racing as the pulse of blood flooded your ears, and there was an inexplicable urge to surrender, even though you wanted to run. You couldn’t even face the boy as you spoke, instead beginning to make your way out of the room.

“JJ…I-I think you should go…” you stammered, burying your face in your hands as you left, the sound of JJ’s boots hitting your marble floors telling you that you weren’t going to be alone anytime soon. He shook his head and bit his lip in frustration as he followed after you into the sunroom.

“Hey, wait — fuck — I didn’t mean —“

“JJ please!” You begged, facing him as your chest heaved and your eyes were as wide as saucers. You shouldn’t have strolled into here; the heat that poured in from the glass was unbearable, and you longed to open the doors and indulge in the feeling of cool air. If you could just do that, perhaps you’d feel better? If not, you’d certainly be seeing the Reverend about a dip in the water of penance.

Either way, everything was too much, and you had no clue about just how much worse things were about to get.

“You’re not crying, are you?”

“No,” you sighed. “I-I just feel awful. I’m a horrible person, I’m going to hell, I –”

You wanted to fight against the fact that JJ had pulled you into a hug, but as you buried your face into his neck you felt otherwise. There was something strangely arousing about his musky smell, and judging by the feeling of his cock against your thigh, he felt the same.

As if you didn’t know that.

“Shh, it’s okay…You’re fine…” he whispered, pulling away to glance down at you, gauging your reaction. “Let me take care of you…”

“JJ, I can’t —“

Your words were swallowed by his kiss; his lips hungry as they attacked your own, whilst his hands invaded your body, planting themselves on your hips before moving down to grope your ass. You let out a soft moan as he gave it a gentle squeeze before he made his way back up to your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands. He pulled away, eyes burning into your own longingly, yet still a little dumbfounded; and stayed there, his grip unwavering.

“I’m dying for you, Mama,” he said earnestly, gaze flickering down to your heaving bosom, your crucifix twinkling in the sunlight. “Daddy’s gonna take care of you, ‘kay?”

You nodded as you peeled the straps of your dress down your shoulders, heart pounding as you revealed yourself to a man who was not your husband - and yet it felt like your wedding night all over again.

JJ sucked in a breath as he watched you undress, unable to hide his smirk as he shifted off his shorts with ease and palmed his cock through his boxers. He could see the outline of your nipples peeking through the lacy, baby pink material, and knew that he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself once he had his hands on you. Fuck, he could barely even do it now.

“C’mere,” he commanded, silver rings glistening as he beckoned you over. A heat began to pool in your stomach as you walked over to him; sensually, reverently, skin breaking into goosebumps as his fingers danced along the skin of your back, swiftly unhooking the material of your bra. You were straddling him now, running your fingers through his tousled hair as you kissed him, gently grinding along his clothed cock and making JJ let out a soft groan. He revelled in the feeling of your warm skin against his own, and slid his hands down your body to grasp your hips, pushing them down with gentle force against his pelvis.

“JJ…” you gasped. Your heart fluttered, not ready to accept the fact that you were about to take another man’s cock - one that was longer, and probably far more satisfactory. “It’s –”

He shushed you again.

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you…Just let go…” 

You couldn’t deny how good the act of dry humping felt, the folds of your aching clit tangible through the sheer material of your panties as his cock traced and embedded on your core; a blob of precum spreading across your inner thighs. JJ’s pink lips were latched onto your nipple, sucking and biting at your skin, determined to leave a mark.

He wanted your husband to see that his property had been defiled - by a Pogue boy no less - all under the watchful eye of God.

After a few moments, he flipped you, your head falling to the other side of the couch as you now found him on top of you, his necklace dangling in your face as he gazed down at you.

“ ‘He ever eaten you out before?” he said snarkily.

“…Huh?”

“Didn’t think so,” 

Before you knew it, he’d disappeared between your legs, sliding your panties down in a swift manner and burying his tongue inside of you. He hadn’t given you any warning, but the hot, wet sensation was surprisingly pleasurable. 

JJ was touching you like no man had ever before; using his mouth and hands to explore your crevice, flicking and lapping at the obscene amount of juices that coated your folds. You whimpered and gripped a pillow, frantic to find some sense of security - only for JJ to pull it from you, tossing it to the other side of the room.

“Nuh-uh,” he began, his voice muffled. “Fuck the pillow. You hold onto me, baby…” he drawled, a hand sliding under your ass and onto the curve of your lower back to angle you higher; silver rings digging into your skin as he held you there. Biting your lip, you fought the urge to blaspheme and laced your fingers through his hair, digging at his roots as he fucked you with his tongue, searching for that oh-so sweet spot.

“You taste so good, Mama…” JJ cooed, lost in your walls, borderline breathless from the way you were squeezing his head between your thighs and drawing him deeper. “…I bet that pussy feels like heaven,”

Perhaps it was the mention of paradise, but his dirty talk sent you over the edge. It was as if you’d been shocked; as if an electrifying pulse of light had run through you, making your back arch and toes curl, swallowing JJ’s face whole. 

It was incredibly obscene. 

You’d barely caught your breath when JJ had climbed back up, indulging you in a passionate kiss and smearing your juices all over your face. Tracing your fingers down his spine, you didn’t break eye contact with him as you pushed down his boxers with one hand and palming his aching cock. It was somewhat heavy with a considerable length, and he chuckled as you shut your eyes and said a silent prayer - not only for what you were about to do, but just how much you were going to enjoy it.

“Hold still,” JJ commanded, breaths shaky as he began to push into you. “‘Imma give you what you want baby…Fuck –”

JJ was loud, but you didn’t care.

It was all too overstimulating; from the dull pain that came from your legs spread so pornographically as they dangled off of his shoulders, to the sound of his pelvis slapping against your own as he rutted into you. You left graceful scars along his back as your manicured nails dug into his sun-kissed skin, crawling at him as you begged for him to go deeper.

“You like this, huh? I know Jesus probably wouldn’t be too happy about this, but pretty girls like you deserve to get what they want…Shit…” he groaned, sliding in and out of you with ease. “Besides, if I give you a baby it’s just me being a good neighbour, right?”

A baby.

That had been the whole reason for your foul mood as of late.

Would Hank ever know? Could you explain it away? How could you function with JJ still around? Your family, your friends…God? How could you ever atone for such a sin?

Realistically, none of that mattered now. Especially not when JJ was fucking you like a rabbit; his hair buried in the crook of your neck and his legs bent as he pressed you into the sofa, yearning to consume you. 

“JJ…” you whined, “I think I’m gonna –”

“Shit, me too baby,” he groaned. “This pussy is so fucking good…Just swallowing me up ‘n shit — I should’ve started working earlier…”

His balls were slapping against your skin now, and you began to see white as he fucked into you, his tip hitting your sweet spot and making you clench around him, legs trembling as you came. It wasn’t too long until he followed after you, your clear juices mixing with his hot cum as he continued to fuck you, rolling his hips in a slow but sensual manner as he made sure you felt - and were filled - with every inch of him.

Which was why it wasn’t surprising that you found yourself pregnant two weeks later.

[usedpidemo]

Knockin on heaven's door (Lee Chaeyeon)

> ​​5 minutes in heaven with chaeyeon (just something inspired by the knock mv and her being inside a wardrobe) - @idevian

——————

“God dammit.”

The worst thing about college wasn’t the outrageous student debt, nor the mountains of units and classes you needed to juggle. It was the parties. 

It was always the parties.

Not a couple of weeks passes by without some wild party hosted by some rich nepo kid. There isn’t really a reason that justifies the occasion except to celebrate for celebration's sake. An excuse to let loose and relax from the stresses of the semester; a reasonable justification—if not for the copious amount of drugs, alcohol, and sex that happens in them. Every scene plays out like a parody, an ironic twist of fate that realizes your worst assumptions and stereotypes of college after graduating high school. 

And the worst part is: no one escapes completely unscathed, not even you.

You make one thing clear: you don’t despise parties—you just didn’t want any piece of it. It stands to reason then that you usually take refuge in the many corners of the house, away from the madness and debauchery of it all. Exposure to their degeneracy proves to be near-unavoidable. You’re essentially the designated driver for your friends, who are none the wiser. Often, they’re the first ones in, last ones out. The moment they step foot inside, they basically forget your existence until dawn. They’re insufferable, but you’d otherwise remain a loner without them, for better and for worse.

In a sea of people, someone manages to spot you. It’s not the gaze of a burgeoning romance or friendship; their eyes evidently spell out drunkenness, and their zombie-like motions toward you are about as subtle as a sledgehammer to the face. A little push and pull. You suddenly find yourself being escorted to a huge circle that raises immediate red flags. Even the slightest whiff of the room laced with crack triggers your fight or flight impulses. Thankfully, it only takes the simplest and most cliche of excuses to create a path of escape.

“I need to use the bathroom.”

With their impaired judgment, you’ll soon be an afterthought to them—or at worse, a horde of makeshift zombies banging at the door. The bathroom would be too obvious. It was never the destination.

Sneaking around the crowd, you find a door conveniently tucked away from the madness and rush toward your freedom. On the other side lies complete darkness, and if not for a foot teetering on the edge of some hidden stairs, you’d be a dozen steps away from a concussion and several stitches. A hidden basement sealed away from the house, blocking most of the noise.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

As expected, the actual basement is nothing but clutters of dusty boxes and forgotten relics, with a few tiny windows hidden behind the piles. Little light peeks through the otherwise pitch black room, but a bit more exposure runs the risk of your retreat getting exposed. You’d more than happily sit here until you can weasel your way out in the morning, when everyone’s blacked out and completely fucked from party overdose, or when the rich kid’s angry parents find you sleeping on the floor. 

You’ve taken overnight shelter in far worse, unforgiving places. 

Suddenly, you feel a breath of warm air tickle through your ear and skin. “Guess I’m not the only one stuck tonight.”

It’s a ghoulish whisper that impulsively causes you to drop your phone while opening its flashlight. What little the light reveals is a hint of pale flesh and blonde strands covertly moving like a predator stalking its prey. You feel something on your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine. Clawlike nails thread through your hair, slowly entrapping you beyond escape. Your eyes tilt to the side, only to find the groove of lush dark lips forming a pretty smirk.

All it takes is another whisper. “Boo.”

“Shit!” You flail your arms panickedly, swinging them around like a child with no fighting experience. You hit nothing but air. If not for the darkness concealing you, it would be a humiliating sight, the kind that gets posted and clowned upon on social media. 

The figure grabs you by the wrists, stares so sternly it warrants attention. Its tone is just as sharp, too. “Don’t get us caught, goddammit.”

You pause, take a moment to gather yourself, then another to scan the shadowy stature, looking at you now with wary and concern. Peering through the darkness, its eyes glint with a distinct sparkle. It speaks again with a more tempered voice. “You okay now?”

A silence briefly falls. You stare back to familiarize and scan the figure. A moment of clarity comes upon you. “Wait—aren’t you—”

You recognize her face plastered on the accomplishment board, primarily under athletics and sports. It simply couldn’t be anyone else but Lee Chaeyeon, a polarizing figure within the student body. You’ve heard whispers from varying accounts. For some, she’s practically the greatest athlete to ever grace the institution, a generational talent in every department she excels in. To her teachers, she barely shows up to classes because of her athletic commitments, and a peek through the records shows she’s barely holding on in her academic obligations. 

At times, she’s felt like a myth, mainly because you’d only hear her from others. You never saw her once in a school uniform. Hell, you only knew she was around because other people claimed to have seen her, but they could have been spreading misinformation.

“What? Chaeryeong?” She raises an eyebrow, puckers her lips, partially confused and mildly annoyed, while lowering your arms before finally letting them go. She knows what you said. “That’s my little sis. She’s a lot cuter than I am. You need to get your eyes checked.”

“No, no.” Blissfully unaware, you’re quick to emphasize your point. “You’re Chaeyeon, head of the dance club and athletics division.”

“No? I’m Chaeryeong, head of the music department,” she says, sarcastic, but now with a playful smile. “No shit, I’m Chaeyeon.”

“I—I never expected to meet you here of all places,” you say, awkwardly smiling and tapping your fingers together nervously.

“I didn’t expect anyone would find this spot.” Chaeyeon turns around, brushing her long blonde locks in an alluring way that leaves you awestruck. Admittedly, it’s a little bit attractive how unabashedly sleazy she looks. Even in her clean pictures, you can tell she hates the idea of looking clean. While everyone else attends these parties at their best, only to come out a complete mess, she clearly recognizes the pointlessness in such vanity. “Great timing, too. I was gonna make a run for it.”

“So, why are you here again?” 

“Boredom.” Her reply is almost immediate, flippantly delivered, that it’s convincing. She has better things to do than hang around at random parties. “I just came for the free food.” She chuckles remembering the thought, while her eyes wander around the room, searching for something, anything.

“Just like me, huh,” you respond with blind confidence, as if it’ll give you both a common ground to share, when in reality, she doesn’t care. If anything, she only amuses you because she allowed you to entertain her, and you’re doing about as good of a job as anyone when it comes to catching her attention—a.k.a failing spectacularly. 

Chaeyeon turns around and faces you again with a curious, intimidating look. “And what do you know about that?”

Gulp. “About what?”

She tilts her head and doesn't utter another word, as if expecting you to know what she means. You clearly don’t. On her lips is a dour pout, disappointed by your impulsive tongue. None of it makes any sense, and trying to figure her out seems like a fool’s errand. 

“Thought so,” is the only thing she ends up saying, and an air of awkward silence falls on you both as she roams around the basement, presumably searching for a passage out. “You wanna be useful?” she suddenly snaps at you, her stare peering through a valley of boxes.

“What do you want me to do?”

“You wanna get out of here or what?” she spits, turning to you, gaze grimacing and tone scathing. Joining her, you both take note of a narrow hatch hidden behind even more dusty packages.

—————

Well, you may have just played the most awkward game of seven minutes in heaven in your life. 

The ride home is even more unsettling.

Chaeyeon remains dead silent, comfortably slumped back against the passenger seat of your car, keeping you at arm’s length. Occasionally glancing to your side, you’re driving, focused on the road ahead. The muted sound of radio blaring through the speakers is the only thing that keeps awkward silence from permeating throughout the vehicle. 

You can’t get her to show any form of emotion other than apathy.

Wanna have something to eat? Nothing. 

Where’s your place? Also nothing.

Where would you like me to drop you off? Still nothing.

Got any friends to meet up with? Again, nothing.

Most people would have given up by now. It’s not a good look, the kind that encourages ostracizing. Patient as you are, though, you still hope she opens up, but whenever your eyes meet, she gives you the coldest shoulder imaginable. She wants nothing to do with you. The way she stares, the tiredness peeking through her brown irises, the slow, detached gaze that examines you before lightly looking away—the very idea of interacting with people poisons her, ruins her, breaks her.

You pull off at a gas station a few blocks away from your apartment. Shutting down the engine, you gently say, “I’m gonna buy a snack. You want anything?”

She slowly turns back in your direction, very disconnected from you she can’t be bothered to look you in the eye. Her lips twist, as if ready to speak her mind, but only air ultimately comes out. As you expected by now.

“Fine,” you follow, deflecting her cold demeanor back at her. “Just wait here, then.”

After stepping out of your car, right as you’re about to enter the shop, you hear a sharp thud sound. Looking back, you find Chaeyeon, also outside, rubbing her arms from the cold air bothering her, trembling nervously. 

You call out to her, loud enough to draw anyone’s attention.

“Borrow my jacket?”

She doesn’t pay you any heed.

—————

“I seriously don’t understand you,” you murmur, as if it’ll bring her out of her shell or change anything, if your previous attempts at reaching out to her in a friendly manner are any proof. It’s late at night; you’re both casually staring at your car—the only noteworthy thing in this gas station—and you couldn’t be any more different. You’ve almost emptied your little cup of instant noodles, while she smokes through her dwindling cigarette, blowing smoke in your direction, still purposefully uncaring. The vapor doesn’t make you crack, but her coldness does. “Why did you ask me to drive for you? What’s the point? I don’t know what you want.”

It’s probably not the best time to show even the slightest frustration. Then again, she’s been deliberately dispassionate the entire time. Anyone else would have given up at this point, but there’s an allure to her, you admit, that keeps you interested, and not just because she’s a known name within the student body. Popularity was never the goal, but like everyone else, you simply wanted to know who Lee Chaeyeon is. She’s one of the biggest mysteries within the school; an all-star athlete with a peculiar aura surrounding her. From what you’ve seen so far, it’s not all that remarkable. She's sassy and apathetic, dry, sarcastic humor is her primary weapon, and she dresses like an escort. Perhaps this is all just a mix up, that this isn’t really the Chaeyeon, one of the best athletes to ever grace the university.

If not for the resemblance with her younger sister, the sweet girl from the music club, they couldn’t have been any more different. Are they really from the same family?

“Much better.” She returns her cigar to her mouth, huffs another round, then releases a new wave, thankfully not in your direction this time. Facing you, she looks you right in the eye. It’s different. There’s no apathy behind them, but instead, genuine interest. “I just wanted a free ride outta there.”

“That’s it?” is your reply, confused. Maybe you’re thinking these words through a bit too much, trying to find deeper complexity from a simple answer. You’ve met more complicated characters before, and to a certain degree, you can relate to her.

“Yeah.” Chaeyeon drags another whiff, but intentionally smokes away. “People just suck.”

In a strange, twisted way, she reads through your mind, says something that, quite frankly, leaves you even more in disarray. “Don’t think hard about it.”

Wide-eyed, you try averting your gaze in a poor attempt to feign ignorance. “Think about what?”

“You know,” she says, songful, gives you a rather taunting stare, eyebrows raised, as if expecting you to understand what she’s on about—deep down you know what that is—while flicking the ashes of her cig down on the table. Admittedly, it’s somewhat cute. Smirking, she adds, “Do I have to make it obvious to you, bird brain?”

“Fuck off.”

“There you go.” Chaeyeon leans back, chuckles, takes delight in making you look like the bad guy, that wicked, mocking grin on her lips a few inches wider than before. Only now do you perceive the true predicament; both of you secretly playing mind games, examining each other, trying to get on the other’s nerves until they eventually break. “I guess I win.”

“Win? We’re not playing games.”

“I got you to drop the nice guy act. I won.” 

Another huff, another smoke.

“That doesn’t mean much.”

“That’s what every loser says. Remember what I said? People suck.”

“We just met a few hours ago, and you’re telling me I suck?” Your volume grows slightly louder.  “After giving you a free ride out of that party?” 

“And who got you out of there first? Hmm?” Chaeyeon’s driving you mad, but now for a completely different reason. “Let me make it clear: I knew about the secret passage even if you hadn’t stumbled your way inside that basement. You were just lucky to find me at the right time.”

“Forget about the basement!” You find yourself slowly unraveling, slowly coming undone, your screws on the brink of loosening. She licks her lips, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

It’s sudden, it’s loud, it’s sharp. The words reverberate around the shop resoundingly that in any other setting, it’s what incites a public incident, gets both of you expelled and shamed in school. Maybe just you, knowing there’s a high likelihood of preferential bias the faculty may have for one of their most accomplished pupils. Regardless, you find yourself covering your mouth, as if you’ve just spoken some unspeakable destruction into existence. Even she ends up speechless.

The next moment is even more destructive: Chaeyeon’s lips suddenly cover yours.

—————

“Fuck, that’s good,” mutters Chaeyeon, between a shower of seemingly endless kisses on your lips, shoving you against the wall of the bathroom beside the convenience store. The doors are locked, with not a single soul’s around to interrupt you. Either way, she proves to be too much—too much to fight, with both words and actions, that you quickly give in, much sooner than she expected.

It’s not that you never considered the thought of kissing Chaeyeon—at times, they were a little tempting if not for the fact that she’s a smoker—but rather how delectable her lips are, even with the tainted scent of smoke etched on them. She passionately makes out with you, drives her tongue between yours, drives the wedge that seemingly kept you both apart, and no amount of self-righteous character can bury that want, that craving for affection—and sex.

“You do this with every man you meet?” You forcefully rip yourself from the kiss, only to find your lips dragged back in almost immediately. She knows it’s a futile effort to gain control, something you never had right from the start. 

“Fuck no,” she mouths between even more pecks. “Consider yourself incredibly lucky.”

She’s tugging on opposite ends of your shirt, threatening to rip them apart, something you recognize. Even as you continue to make out, with your hands exploring and marking new territory in the form of her divine figure, you make time for her, letting her freely own you by lifting the obstructive clothing over your head before she promptly tosses it aside in return. Her lips gradually slide down and make themselves familiar with you; your neck first, then your collarbones, smiling to herself as she marks each part as hers with her teeth, while creating more friction by palming your bare chest.

“Finally, someone who’s actually hot,” she quietly mouths to herself, though you can hear her loud and clear. You’ve got a response, a retaliation, but you choose to bask in the moment, acknowledge how good she already makes you feel in the form of a light groan.

Her hands slide down the steep hill that is your torso, until they find more difficult fabric. Locking eyes with yours, she works on your pants, keeping you suspended as she figures out how to claim her rightful prize. Behind those brown pupils is a burning lust, a raging flame consuming her from within, eager to take what she wants; it’s not the same cold stare from before. 

“How long have you wanted me?” she asks, followed by the gentle whir of your zipper as she slides down your pants and boxers in one swing. Before you can formulate a reply, you suddenly release an airy gasp—your only response—caught unaware by her deft, silky hand pressing on your balls and your raging cock. Her smirk widens, amused and absorbed by your electric reaction. 

She continues to fiddle with your cock, giving it one slow, but delicate pump after another, as you fall under her dizzying spell. Forget about the question; the answer is quite clear, based on the stickiness slowly building up between her hand and your cock. Pleasure begins to spike all over your body, and almost single handedly ends you, if not for her other hand keeping you steady against the wall. It’s a little too soon—a little too much for your brain to comprehend.

Her gaze lingers on yours, watching you gradually crumble in real-time; you’re no better than anyone else in this situation. It’s amusing, gets cute, sweet, playful looks that seemingly brighten her day after what seemed to be an absolute disaster. She knows what she’s doing and she loves it. Your hands cling to shoulders, feel the softness of her skin, and it sparks a fire in her eyes, quick to spread and consume.

“Tell me how long you’ve wanted me,” she repeats herself, the bright glint in her eyes and her grin more mischievous than serious. Determined to get the answer out of you, she tightly cups your balls, drawing out a deep groan. “I know you’ve been staring at me since we met.”

She’s not entirely wrong. Even in the darkness of that desolate basement, you knew she was drop-dead gorgeous. It became clear under the pale moonlight that she was even hotter: a black crop that teased the subtlest of cleavage, exposed her toned midriff, and jeans that accentuated her shapely ass. Yes, even when you thought she wasn’t interested, she knew your stare never departed. 

“Since always.” Not the best answer; you both literally just encountered each other earlier that night, but it’s the most logical. Not a single girl in college made you hot and heavy like this. Sure, some of them were cute, her sister included, but none of them had that appeal, that love at first sight attraction that Chaeyeon carried. 

Her free arm reaches up to the zipper of her shirt, presses her cleavage together a little. There’s amusement on her features watching in your eagerness to watch them slip. She contemplates the thought, painfully stalling the inevitable by a few precious seconds, then she unzips her top down. One side of the sleeve slides down her shoulders, then the other, until only a matching black bra remains. 

It promptly joins the other clothes on the opposite end of the bathroom, completely irrelevant. 

You and Chaeyeon make quick work of her jeans before you’re quickly drawn together like magnets, feeling each other’s hot, sweaty skin, entangled like a complete puzzle making out against the walls. It’s an intense back and forth, a tug of war as you both desire complete ownership of the other’s body. Each torrid kiss screams of desperation, not intimacy, to be used, to be consumed. 

Spacious as the bathroom is, you can’t seem to find common ground. One moment you’ve got her pinned against the furthest stall, the next she has you fastened in another, until you eventually acquaint yourselves with all three cubicles. Both of you know where this is going and where it should lead; you just don’t know how you can get there. There’s plenty of distractions in front of you, mainly Chaeyeon’s perfect naked figure, a leg wrapped around your hip, and the gleam in her eyes wanting and yearning. It’s dangerous; temptation lurks everywhere you look. If not for the arms wrapped around your neck, occasionally dictating that you only look at her lust-filled face between kisses, the rest of her body would earn your worship. 

Chaeyeon moans, writhes in your grasp, slowly relinquishing control over to you. From her bottom lip, you slip them down to her neck, and she trembles, clings tighter, feeling weak. Her hands pinch the back of your hair, mouth mumbling airy, faint words. It’s passionate, sinful, and tender—something you never expected with an otherwise rough woman like her.

“God, you’re so hot—” you hiss, gasping as her touch arouses you. “Mmm—”

She suddenly regains composure, stops you a breath away from her chest, then pulls you back toward her face. Another deep kiss. “Enough. I’m not in the mood for love making tonight.”

Regretfully, she removes herself from your clutch, pulling you by the hand instead to lead you to the bathroom sink. Every time she kisses you, her lips smell of alcohol and lipstick, and it never gets old. You wonder if she simply likes kissing or if she’s conveying some kind of message that you somehow have to decipher. She notices the curious expression on your face, lets out this droll laugh that gives off the assumption you’re onto something, when really, she’s as unpredictable as ever.

There’s nothing funny, nor is it supposed to be, but it makes no sense, perfectly in line with her character.

Before the awkwardness looms over you again, she grabs you by the waist, pushes you forward to impale her. Her back arches against the sink, perfectly spaced between her torso and legs. She spins around, flaunts her shapely curves that immediately capture your attention—and your hands. Ignore her steely glare that pierces through your reflection in the mirror; her flesh melts, molds comfortably in your grasp, as if they were tailor made for you. 

She grunts, loses control again, but it’s only momentarily. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Even though you’ve seen her look vulnerable, her sharp attitude keeps you on edge, stops you from committing a sinful act. Your cock is in the perfect position to ruin her, break the facade and the space between you, but it’s not a fight worth contending, especially when she follows up with a dagger that almost pierces your heart. “Keep it between my legs.”

You immediately knew what she meant. To be quite honest, it’s a little disappointing. All that preamble, pleasantry, the tease of something more, only to be shot down before it even starts—it’s almost disheartening. Of course, you had no room to complain, not when she’s splayed out in her barest, practically giving you free reign over every other part of her, but something feels—off, incomplete.

Chaeyeon spreads her legs wide, gracious to space your cock right in its center. Her cunt is on full display, ripe and ready to be used, to be fucked. Unfortunately, you won’t get to have any piece of it without her word. It’s near-impossible to look away, spellbinding you with an unforgettable mental image. The thought of—or the lack thereof—filling her pussy torments you. Even as her smooth, perfect thighs sandwich your cock, the notion poisons your mind, leaves you wandering and aimless, until the perfect amount of friction strikes and—

“Fuck.”

It’s smooth, suffocating, devastating. Now you truly have nothing to whine about, except to whine about how tight her legs feel around your cock, rubbing and stroking yourself between her thick thighs. Barely hanging on, you press your hands on her shoulders, losing yourself in the pleasure quickly. Thanks to the little flecks of precum from before, sliding between her heat proves to be much easier. 

Slowly but surely, you grow accustomed to her asphyxiating warmth, unable to process anything beyond the slickness and powerful sensations around her flesh. Eyes closed, you moan in prolonged, deep spurts, resting your head beside hers. Her feelings don’t matter at this moment, only yours. You don’t realize her hand is gripped to your thigh, only that it amplifies the surge of pleasure coursing throughout your body. A possible reminder to keep your cock away from her cunt, but you didn’t need it anymore—her thighs are more than enough.

“Yeah. Fucking enjoy it, horny bitch.” Chaeyeon’s tone and expression seemingly derives no enjoyment from watching you lose it, as if it’s only an obligation and not something both of you share pleasure in. She moans, but it’s faint and weak. “That feels good, right?”

“It does,” you blurt, trapped in the heavenly bliss between her legs, loving every little motion. “So good, Chaen, holy fuck—”

She sees you visibly struggling and helplessly trying to gather air, smiles and laughs at your predicament. It’s a mess; it’s her schadenfreude. Delightful, she thinks to herself, now playing along with her lewd expressions plastered on the mirror. Unconvincing, if not a bit too much leaning towards parody. She’s waiting for the opportunity to get the edge over you, the killing blow. 

Tightening her grip around your cock, her toned legs collapse, and you can feel the fire in your loins gradually building and hurling toward a calamitous explosion. There’s nothing you can do to stop—not that you ever want to, watching your cock slide in and out her thighs at a perfect rhythm is its own reward—only praying that the moment lingers a bit longer. You’ve got both hands pinched to her taut nipples, thankfully unresisted, kissing around her collarbone and ear, trying in vain to stifle the endless string of curses and moans leaving your lips.

It doesn’t help that her voice is seductive, downright merciless, repeatedly goading you into submission, staring at your reflection expectantly. “That’s it. Cum for me, bitch. You won’t ever get this kind of opportunity with anyone else but with me. No one else will ever make you feel this good. Just cum, and cum, and cum—”

The word rings in your head, hypnotic, borderline leaning toward brainwashing. It isn’t gaslighting when she has a point; she feels so fucking incredible, so tight and hot and suffocating—no one else can possibly compare. Then again, ecstasy is the only thing running through your head, clouding your better judgment. You’ve got a hand digging through her endless sea of blonde locks, pumping between her thighs, each thrust sorer than the last, like you’ll regret the action in the morning. 

“I’m so close, Chaen. I’m going to cum,” you say desperately. 

There’s that familiar twinkle in her eyes, and a mischievous grin forming on her lips. Troubling. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you say, your cock aching painfully between her wet, toned thighs. 

“Please.” 

“Please!” you shout, teetering dangerously close to the edge, threatens you and Chaeyeon. Again, slowing down proves to be impossible. You’re so far gone.

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum! Please let me cum, Chaen, oh God.”

“That’s it. Cum—”

As soon as she lets that word out, the lights immediately turn green. Releasing all your inhibitions, your eyes widen, pumping your cock hurling to that oh-so deserved orgasm between her legs. Her thighs receive every last shot, every single drop. You both moan into each other’s ear, with Chaeyeon finding comfort and satisfaction from feeling the warmth you’ve given her. 

She throws her head back, cranes her neck, brushes a hand around your hair while you pump through your climax. Eventually, your cock slips, winds down to a complete halt. You find your lips returning to her collarbones, taking solace on her sensitive flesh as you remain intimately attached together for a little while longer.

“Shit.” You look down, past the curves of her chest, see the puddles and drops of slick on the floor. She mirrors your gesture, checks the damage between her legs, and it’s a disaster: her thighs are dripping with cum down to her feet, with two noticeable blots parallel to the other. 

“So needy.” Chaeyeon says with a laugh, caressing your cheek, her voice a temptation in your ear, goading you for more. “Not lucky with the ladies, hmm?”

Wistfully, you reply, “Yeah.”

Chaeyeon slowly releases your chin from her hand, slips from your clutch to grab a stream of tissue rolls to clean herself up. You cling to the sink with wobbly legs, staring down at the basin, overcome by a wave of both regret and exhaustion. Unwelcome thoughts creep in. A lack of protection, a return of her dour persona, and your reputations at stake—you’ll entertain them all in the morning, when the honeymoon period ends.

When you look up, you see Chaeyeon in the mirror, almost finished dressing up, fixing her cleavage before zipping up her crop top. She stares back, grinning. “You know you still have to drive me home. So when you’re done pining over not cumming in my pussy—”

“Where? Where's home?”

“Yours.”

—————

(A/N: Finally got to one of the four selected requests! I'm sorry this one took a lot longer than expected, but what can you expect from me XD I still have PCD as I write this down and no amount of copium can help me recover haha. I loved the request as it gave me the perfect excuse to write Chaeyeon again; she's an underrated hottie and I'm glad she (1) quit Queendom Puzzle instead of pushing through and (2) Knock became a surprise hit. It's only a matter of time before her star rises even further. Thank you for reading!)

[sidthedollface2]

A Crown fit for a God (Part 3)

Pairing: Azriel x Fem Reader

Ch Summary: Elain questions Azriels whereabouts. While Rhys places a target on your back after you seek the help of two other Death Gods.

Or

Azriel touches what does not belong to him and craves more.

word count: 5.6k

Series warnings: 18+ MDNI, attempted SA, angst, hurt/comfort, light smut, war, including injuries, fighting, sign language, no use of y/n, nicknames, magic, greek mythology, pining, jealousy, azriel with other women (sorry), reader with another man (get it friend ; )

A/n: I had the tickle to write smut so I give you crumbs…for now. I'm a daydreamer not a writer so if you see any mistakes that's how I dreamt it. Lol

*quote from the chaos of stars

~~

Khaos was to be one of the many shooting stars that showered the Night Court skies. The Night Court would be celebrating Starfall, their yearly event to star gaze as spirits made their migration. Had she made her destination they would recognize her as one of their own and welcome her with open arms. Except for the first time the Night Court had in possession four instruments of conquest. The harp, mask, crown, and the horn, commonly known as the Dread Trove; Therefore diverting her journey to The Autumn Court.

~~~~~~~~

Bryaxis roared as he agreed to fight in the war. The reason for the blast; a form of communication, letting you know his end of the bargain was done. A bargain made with the High Lady cementing his plans- your plans. He requested a window below the library to see the sun and stars and most importantly lightning, conjured by you of course. Gods did he enjoy the spectacle, your wrath illuminating the dark sky striking fear and anxiety in peoples bones. The thrill of watching their faces as they waited for that crack of thunder. The sadist in him couldn't wait to be unleashed and bear witness to your fury, cracking of bones and screams in terror. The sweet scent of blood splattered throughout the field. He was giddy with excitement.

Azriel had rushed to the house of wind only to find the inner circle gathered in the sitting area. “Az! I’m so glad you're safe. Feyre and I figured out why the house was so moody.” Elain bounced over to her lover, wrapping her arms around Azriels neck, bringing his mouth to hers in an endearing kiss, running her tongue along the seam of his lips. Azriels arms remained at his sides, as she embraced him. His brows furrowed when she attempted to deepen the kiss.

He had just held you in his arms moments ago, your frame tucked closely within the shelter of his wings. Just the two of you and no one else existed at that moment. Not the flying of splintered bark or decayed leaves from the blast, or the dust, heavy with smoke and mist. He just saw you. Felt the power in your veins, saw the moon and all its stars in your eyes, the ruler of the skies and ruler of his mind.

He already missed the way the stars danced in your eyes as you looked up at him. He wanted to see his shadows dance along glittered starlight, not dirt covered flower beds and baked goods.

Azriel didn’t allow Elain to deepen the kiss, instead he broke apart from her eager mouth and gently pulled her arms from around his neck. “Elain I think we sho–”

“You smell different,” Elain interrupted, sniffing around Azriels chest and neck trying to find the source. “Just stepped on an orange on my way here,” he replied, rubbing the back of his tense neck. Her eyes narrowed, not trusting a single word out of his mouth.

Azriel met Nestas cold glare, a slight shake to her head followed. He was being put on the spot in front of his whole family. Beads of sweat formed along his forehead, wiping his clammy hands along his thighs, he started towards the stairs, “I’m gonna go shower.”

“I’ll join you!” Elain exclaimed, reaching for Azriels hand, intertwining her fingers with his. He silently begged for someone to stop her. To pull her away from what he knew she wanted, what he’s been giving her for the past six months. For anyone to suddenly need her so he could enjoy the scent of your body a little longer. So he could aggressively fist his cock and imagine he was fucking your throat instead.

Slowly Azriel climbed the steps, each step creaked as the wood carried their weight closer to their bedroom. He’d have to imagine it was you instead of her. Your mouth pressed against his lips as he swallowed your moans, hands trailing down your stomach till he reached your wet cunt. Your perfect body pressed against the shower wall as he sheathed himself inside you, taking you over and over and over–

“Azriel? Did you hear me?” It was Cassian that broke his thoughts.

“Sorry, zoned out for a bit. What did you say?”

“Rhys wants to debrief you.” Cassian jerked his head to Rhys' office.

“Now?” Elain whined, “can’t it wait for morning? It’s late.”

“No, he’s right Elain. Better now that it's fresh in my mind.” Azriel didn’t know if he should thank Cassian, the mother or the Gods for sparing him. Elain began to speak again but it was Azriel who seemed to read her thoughts, “don’t wait up,” he finished; releasing her hand that she so tightly held.

Not sparing her a second glance, Azriel followed Cassian to Rhys office, his shoulders more relaxed than before and his shadows seemed to have calmed down. Throwing his arm around Azriels shoulders in brotherly love, Cassian leaned in close and whispered, “you fucken owe me asshole. Now tell me all about her.”

Azriel tried to play it off with a smirk, but a wide smile danced on his lips. He’d get to stroke his cock to the thought of you after all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Azriel didn’t sleep in the room he shared with Elain, her once alluring scent now seemed too sweet. Her hands were suddenly too rough from pruning rose thorns and the leftover dirt beneath her nails made him sick.

He knew he needed to find the time to break things off. Cassian had told him that much. It wasn’t fair to lay next to Elain while he dreamed of you. Although Azriel didn’t divulge too much to Cassian about his fantasies, which wasn't the case when it came to Elain.

With Elain he had told Cass every dirty detail, how many times, positions and even sounds. He knows it was wrong. Didn’t think much of it before, as it was spoken between brothers and no one else. It would be different with you though. You were different. He was going to do it tonight. Tonight he would break things off with Elain and devote his efforts in getting to know you.

~~~~~~~

There were strong wards surrounding the Prison in the Night Court, used to prevent anyone from winnowing inside or flying to the entrance. The power needed to pass through the wards was more than you expected. It wasn't till you reached the stone gate that you realized that only the High Lord of the Night Court's blood would open the gate, something that you couldn't manipulate or conjure. You pinched the space between your brows in irritation as you thought of a way to bypass the blood sacrifice. Starting small in order to regain your power you attempted to push at the stone gate, hoping that it would just topple over. It didn't. Since the prison was on a cavernous mountain perhaps a little quake would loosen the rock and stone exposing the entrance for you to just strut right in.

You knelt in front of the stone gate, both knees firmly planted in soil and moss. You closed your eyes to focus on your magic. The sea breeze caressed your wind-chapped cheeks as you listened to the roar and crash of waves when they met the edge of the mountain. You summoned the power of the land through your fingers, plunging them deep into the soil in front of you. With a roar that echoed the strong ocean waves the mountain trembled in fear. The more your arms quivered in pain the deeper your fingers dug into the ground. Every inch rooted into the land caused the mountain rock to shrivel and rumble till small cracks webbed along the stone gate.

Azriel and Cassian were in the middle of breakfast when the floor beneath them swayed side to side, followed by a rolling motion. Dishes broke into pieces as they crashed to the floor, glass and sharp porcelain scattered the ground. Rhys urgently summoned them mind to mind.

There's a breach at the prison, get over here now before she releases them all.

Azriel and Cassian shared a look before they scrambled into their leathers and sheathed their most effective weapons, knives, daggers and swords, preparing for the worst.

Small cracks etched along the stone wall but it wasn't enough to open the gate. With your power almost completely drained you called upon the light. Seconds from opening your eyes to wield a crack of lightning a cool tendril wrapped around your wrist, carrying the smooth echo of ‘Please don’t do this’ in the whisper of Azriels voice.

The soothing touch jolted you. Your eyes shot wide open long enough to see the sky illuminate in a bright flash. A loud roaring sound boomed through the air as a violent strike of lightning slammed into the stone gate, crumbling it to pieces.

When you looked down to your trembling hands submerged in the rich soil, black tendrils seeped from the ground, wrapping up your arms and cooling your hot skin. “I think you like playing with fire don’t you?” Dusting the dirt from your hands you caressed the little shadow and quickly made your way inside the prison, looking at the sky one last time just in case you couldn't make it out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello Bone Carver.” You smiled at your old friend, “Remember that favor you owe me?”

The Bone Carver just rolled his dark eyes. “Whatever you're going to ask me, the answer is yes.”

You beamed, “thank you.”

It had been easier getting out of the mountain than getting in, a flaw in the protection wards you’d fix before you left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel trekked up the mountain you were long gone. Upon entering the prison Azriel was easily able to follow your scent which led him to the Bone Carvers cell. Rhys entered and excused the other two males.

“You sure you know what you're getting yourself into brother?” Cassian questioned, glancing at Azriel with his eyebrow raised. Azriels brows creased as he tilted his head, not understanding what he meant. “She almost leveled a fucking mountain. I love you brother, but I don't think you can handle her,” Cassian smirked, “but I know I can.”

Azriel snorted. They had shared females in the past accidentally and sometimes in the same room. “She’s different Cass. Touch her and I’ll cut off your hands.”

“Don’t need my hands to fuck her Az.” Cassian threw his head back and howled in laughter as Azriel punched his shoulder in jest.

Rhys walked out of the cell and stared at Azriel as if he knew something Azriel didn’t. His violet eyes bore into hazel ones with a look of sympathy, knowing what lay ahead for Azriel.

“What did he say?” Azriel nervously asked.

Rhys didn’t answer as he turned his back away from him, starting his walk back down the mountain. Cassian and Azriel shared a glance, a look of worry in both their eyes.

Back in Velaris, Rhys paced back and forth, his knuckles white from clenching them into fists. The violet of his eyes black with rage.

“She knows about Velaris and can easily bypass the protection wards. Now she knows how to get in and out of the prison. Find her before I do because I'll fucking kill her.” Rhys' tone was low and deadly like a viper ready to strike.

Without another word Azriel set out to find you, again. But this time he was determined to get answers. No more riddles, no distractions. There was a pattern he picked up on. You seemed to befriend the deadlier creatures of Prythian, The Suriel, Bryaxis somehow, and now The Bone Carver. Azriel set his sights on the middle of Prythian where the weaver Stryga was confined.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Work out of your home Court was almost complete, the allies that you needed were aware of their duties and were loyal to your mission. Your limbs ached and burned from your travels across multiple courts, the only thing bringing you a sense of peace was this last stop. Possibly the worst, not the person you had to visit but the stench alone turned your stomach.

The severed head in the sac you carried grew heavier and heavier as your final destination grew closer. Crimson stained your clothes leaving them stiff and rough against your delicate skin. Your hair has clumped from the dirt and blood, it’d been days since you had a nice bath. You open and close your mouth as the sour taste of decayed flesh hits your taste buds. Food wasn't easily available but the horrid smell had you doubling over, emptying what was left from your stomach. Sweat now beads down the side of your face. Heavy eyes spot the weavers cottage in the distance. Finally you think.

“Stryga!” You shout, as you rap at the wooden door, “open up!”

Strygas feet shuffle to the door, “must you shout? I’m blind not deaf you insubordinate buffoon,” she scolds as she swings the door open.

Thankfully she doesn't see the way your face falls as you hold in your gag. “I missed you too Stryga.” She beckons you inside, her arm extended towards her cluttered home. “I don't mean to be rude, but I’m in a hurry. It’s not far from now Stryga. You’ll still be able to eat your fill of evil males,” you declare, handing her your sac with the severed head. “I’m going to kill him, both of them. Don’t you worry. Your neck still remains attached to your spine. But I’ll need some help and I’d love nothing more if you fought by my side.”

Stryga lowers her head and you witness her undying loyalty as she motions to kneel before you. “That's unnecessary,” you attempt at grabbing her arm, stopping her bow.

“It would be a pleasure to unleash my wrath for you Khaos, Goddess of creation and decreation,” Stryga pledges as she remains within your grasp. “So, not a buffoon then?” you stifle a laugh at her earlier jab, and for the first time in your presence Stryga smiles.

“No one calls me that anymore.” You remind her, a wave of sadness crossing your eyes as you remember your mission and how far you are from home.

“Buffoon? Or khaos?” She smirks as you throw her a faux glare.

Stryga suddenly stiffened, her ear catching a faint whisper as she tilted her head. Her clawed fingernails digging into the worn wood of the door.

“Stryga?” You whispered, peering behind you at the dozens of trees that seemed unmoving.

“Shadows follow you.” She brings her forefinger to her lips, shushing you, “non threatening it seems,” her brows furrow, "they're captivated.” Her soulless eyes widen as they seem to meet your gaze. “The shadows have stolen from you.”

You don’t have time for her to elaborate. Quickly making you exit and excusing yourself, she shocks you with her parting words. “Do you know what it takes to make a star shine?”

You shake your head as if she can see you. “Darkness,” she replies. “I knew that,” you answer as you take steps away from her cottage, eager to leave before the shadows master finds you. “Then why do you run?” She retorts, crossing her arms as she braces against the frame of her door, a smug expression on her deadly face.

You don't spare her another glance but her words linger long after you've left her cottage. With your work away from home finally done you winnow to your home court, disappearing in a cloud of glitter and smoke.

~~~~~~~~~~~

You inhaled the crisp air, holding it in your lungs for three seconds before exhaling. Calming your racing heart and releasing the power that traveled through your veins. You smile briefly as the pressure of water against your body washes away days of dirt and blood. Finally letting your limbs relax, stretching your arms high above your head, reaching for the blue sky wanting nothing but to hold the warmth of the sun. In the peaceful silence of the forest you give yourself a moment of weakness. You allow the ache that's burrowed deep within your heart to break free from its prison. Your body’s screaming for a day a week or even a few hours of rest, where shifting isn't needed, and glamouring your true form doesn’t eat up most of your power. Where wars dont need to be fought and kings don’t need to die. You let your strength rest; to feel your pain shatter the windows to your soul for just a moment.

~~~~~

Azriel followed the sound of hushed whimpers, his shadows jumping from tree to tree. The soft cries soon turned harrowing then muffled, like a palm over the mouth.

‘Broken’

His shadow informed him.

Taking cover in the darkness below a large tree he heard the faint weeping, the sudden scent of citrus invading his nostrils. Your shoulders shook with the force of your cries as you cleaned off your wings. Azriel tried to look away from your bare back as you bathed beneath the mouth of a waterfall. Immediately he noticed your wings, two forewings and two hindwings that tapered towards the end like those of a luna moth.

You can shapeshift, he realizes, the large expanse of your wings covering your behind from view, leaving Azriel curious. But why were you crying? You didn't seem broken like his shadows had mentioned. That's when he saw it. Blood. You were cleaning off blood from your wings. Someone you had just killed he imagines. No, It was your blood. At the base of your wing closest to your back a large slash cut deep, almost severing your wing.

“You’re hurt, I can help you.” His voice rang out over the rushing water, slowly inching forward so as to not seem threatening. Frightened by his sudden appearance you vanish before his eyes, leaving a cloud of shimmering powder, momentarily blinding him. Weaving through the darkness of the in-between, you swiftly emerge, tackling Azriel to the ground, unsheathing his own dagger in the process.

Clothed in nothing but a thin nightgown, you straddle him, truth teller firm in your grip pushing against the column of his throat. His shadows swirled above your head creating a crown of darkness as if you were their queen. Azriel narrowed his eyes, ‘traitors.’

“Why have you looked for me?

Azriels speechless as he beholds your beauty, ignoring your question. His eyes wander over each of your features as if committing to memory. His hazel eyes land on your pouty lips and his throat bobs as his desire consumes him. Instinctually his pink tongue darted out to wet his lips, just in case.

“Why have you looked for me?” You repeat, forcing his dagger against his jugular, a bead of blood painting his tan skin. Azriel smirked, the thrill of a dangerous female only exciting him, causing the scent of his arousal to fill the air. “You plan to kill me with my own blade?”

“I could kill you without it.” You counter, the force of your power sizzling through your fingers.

Azriels eyes flutter closed, the scent of his arousal drifting to your nose, a husky scent with a touch of night. “So the rumors are true,” Azriels brows furrow, “the shadowsinger playing hero to a damsel in distress, bedding any female that bats her eyes.”

Azriel then twists his foot around your ankle, using his weight to roll you over onto your back. You drag the blade across his throat as he tumbles you to the ground. His hand firmly grips your throat while the other wraps around your wrist, pinning you to the forest floor. With his knees firm on the ground, caging your hips, your legs resting on top of his thighs, making it easy for you to wrap your legs around his waist. “Who told you that?” He asks angrily, blood dripping down his throat from the shallow slash you gave him.

“Eris Vanssera '' you gasp, the slight pressure of his fingers around your throat arousing you more than it should. Yet the grip he holds on your wrists sends you in a panic as memories from your morning assault come crashing.

The males rancid breath makes your stomach churn as he licks at your cheek. The whole weight of his grotesque body has you pinned down, barely able to wriggle out from under him. With one hand he holds your wrists down above your head as the other fumbles with his belt.

Mid-flight he had collided into you, both barreling out of the sky crashing to the ground. Furious, he had attempted to sever your rare wings. The impact of your fall momentarily ceasing your powers, causing you to fight hand to hand.

Your crying only eggs him on, excitement in his rotten attempt at a smile. You're not sobbing out of fear. No. You mourn the life you have to take. You mourn every life, weather deserved or not. The spark that creates life remains. Rooted deep within you, pushed to the side in order for darkness to prevail.

Loyal to your duties as a Death God by any means necessary, you sucked in the secretions from your lungs and violently spat. Thick mucus covered the fat bastard's face, briefly losing his grip, giving you just enough time to unsheath your knife and drive into his thick skull. Later, you’d gift his remains to a dear friend.

Azriels eyes widened with shock as he felt a sharp pain shooting through him. Grunting and hissing he clutches his side, finding Truth teller lodged deep into his rib, warm blood dribbles from the wound staining the ground he's crouched at. “ Did you just stab me?” he chokes out, wincing as he pulls the dagger free, fingers splayed wide attempting to stop the bleeding.

Scrambling out from under him, chest heaving as the adrenaline flows through you. “You’ll live,” you pant as you stand, dusting off browned leaves from your back and knees. A sigh escapes your lips as you notice a blood stain on your white night dress. All you wanted was to wash up the violence that painted your skin and even then your efforts were futile. Azriels eyes trail up your body as he remains kneeled still putting pressure on his rib, his magic working to heal the open wound.

Anger courses through him as he zeros in on a purple bruise on your inner thigh, visible from how short your dress is. “Tell me who he is and I’ll kill him for you.” Those simple words had meant so much you almost cried at the gesture. While you slaughtered the bravest of males and brought warriors to their knees, destroyed kingdoms for unworthy kings, defended the defenseless not one person had offered to protect you. Countless times you had braved your own storm with not one soul willing to weather the chaos. Despite being used for your endless power, time and time again you still gave more than what you could ever receive in return. You save everyone but who was there to save you? You were one female and strong enough to fight your own battles and conquer without the help of highlords or kings. So why was this male cracking the shield of vulnerability wrapped so tightly around your heart?

Azriel seemed to notice your internal struggle, “come here,” he rasped as he stared through your troubled gaze. The tousled waves of his hair that fell so effortlessly over his forehead looked so enticing your fingers twitched. His hazel eyes had darkened and the way his thick thighs looked kneeling gripped you so fiercely your legs moved on their own volition. Standing on weak knees, his eyes never left yours as he patted his thigh, urging you to place your foot on his strong muscle. You obey his command with a slow nod. Azriel chances a glance at your exposed leg, “who do I have to kill?” He asks, softer this time. His bloodied fingers wrap around your delicate ankle and for once you don’t mind. Strong hands gently smooth over your leg, wrapping to the back of your calf. A shiver runs through you at the simple touch, his attentiveness relaxing your muscles. Slowly he lifts the hem of your gown, just enough to expose the bruise and nothing else. “Tell me whose entire family line should I butcher for touching you?” he murmured against your skin, circling your tender bruise with his perfect nose. “I killed him,” you breathe looking down at this male whose lips are inches away from your throbbing core.

“Mmmm good girl,” he growls, meeting your hooded gaze as he licks your inner thigh followed by a tender kiss. You nearly buckle at the sensation of his lips against your skin. The way his rough hands are caressing up and down the expanse of your leg. Lustful eyes roll back as he deeply inhales the sweet scent of your arousal, smothering his handsome face against the heated flesh of your leg like a house pet greeting their owner. “Let me worship you,” he purrs, his hot breath ghosting over your covered core as the tips of his fingers kiss the space between your legs. Azriel could cum right now just watching you throw your head back as you gasp from his fingers grazing your pulsing core. His pants are pulled tight from his cock pushing against his leathers, wanting to bury himself inside you. He’s willing to wait as long as you need but right now he’ll take whatever you give him.

When your eyes meet Azriels again you don’t miss the burning desire in his beautiful eyes or the outline of his bulge as it strains against his pants, suddenly it becomes too much too soon and before you know it you’ve shoved him away, the yearn clouding your vision clears and your back to being a powerful Death God.

“Is that what you tell the females you lay with? That you’ll worship their bodies like the Goddess they are?”

Azriel hangs his head between his dropped shoulders. Shame of his past finally catching up to him when it matters the most. When what he wants more than anything is threatened by his past mistakes. What was he thinking? Oh Gods and Elain. He was offering to please and bed you while he still hadn’t broken things off with Elain.

“You never answered my question. Why have you looked for me?”

Azriel remains silent.

“Did I offer a service which benefited you or your court?”

“Not exactly.” He answers

“Do you seek to use my power for your gain?” You continue, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“No”

“Do you seek treasure?”

“No” He replies with a scoff.

“You seek power then?”

Azriel shakes his head, “no, not power.”

“Knowledge?”

“Nope.”

“You do not pursue power, nor do you wish to bathe in coins, and knowledge is neither here nor there, so you must be searching for love?”

Azriel stilled.

“Ah, love it is. I regret to inform you, I cannot make someone love you.”

“That's not it. You healed me as a child. You were a stranger that showed me more kindness than my own family, and I've spent my entire life looking for you. Not to ask for more healing or to share your magic with others who may need you, but to offer my gratitude. All these years I’ve wondered what you’ve made of yourself, if you're happy, successful, have you found love or have you married or.. ” his gaze shies away, “or if you’re mated.” His tone is sincere, like he's been practicing those words for centuries.

You narrow your eyes at him, gauging whether he's telling you the truth or not, though you sense no lies. “What’s your name shadowsinger?”

“Azriel.”

“Azriel, I'm sorry but the person you're looking for doesn't exist anymore, but I’m even more sorry that I don’t recall this interaction.”

You watch as his expression sombers.

“I’m very flattered though,” you give him a tight lipped smile and get closer, deciding to sit next to him on the stone flat rock that rims the pool you were bathing in. Hoping to offer the same sincerity, you gently place your palm on his lap. “I suppose I can answer your questions, I feel it's the least I can do since you’ve indeed stalked me all these years.” Azriel chuckles remembering the night he said he wasn't a stalker. “I’m not happy, or successful where coin is involved. I have found love in all the faces I’ve seen and the wonderful friends I’ve made, but I’ve only loved one male.” while heat flushes your cheeks and a smile escapes your lips, Azriel frowns, unprepared for the hurt your answer would cause. “His name is Lucien, but –”

Azriel doesn't hear a word you say after that, the weight of your confession pinning him where he sits. Thank Gods for that because he's sure he’d topple over if he were standing. His mind imagines what Lucien had done for you to love him. What words did he use to make you sigh, what cheesy jokes he told to hear you laugh.

Does Lucien know that your skin feels like the finest silk known to man. Has he had the pleasure of kissing you and taking you to bed?

Azriel can feel his anger bubbling or jealousy he's not quite sure but he's unable to stop the hateful words from spewing out, “Lucien can’t love you, he has a mate! And she's pretty and sweet, she's sunshine and rainbows. She's gentle and soft.–”

“And everything I’m not.”

You finish as you swallow the tight knot in the back of your throat. You turn away from him, wiping at a stray tear that's rolled down your cheek. The truth in his words hurting you more than they should; since you’ve moved on. Lucien has too at least that's what you've heard.

Moving on doesn't cure the sadness or put together the broken pieces of your shattered heart. Forgetting Lucien doesn't erase the years of longing. You could never blame him for leaving you. Out of left field he grew distant, a silent struggle you knew nothing of. And you haven't seen him since.

Azriel places his scarred hand on your shoulder, an apology on the tip of his tongue as well as clarification for his words. He doesn’t get the chance as his touch burns your skin causing you to jolt and shrug him off. Azriel panics as he notices your red rimmed eyes, wet with unshed tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t..what I meant was-”

“No. You're right. How can someone like him love something like me?”

Azriel shakes his head. You thought of Lucien like the sun, brilliant and warm, setting fires to forest floors and warming the coldest of hearts. And you the moon, who only glows with the help of the sun. You had it all wrong. Lucien was just a sly fox sneaking his way into the heart of the moon. How could someone like him love something like you? The real question was how could he not love you?

Females like you were born during a raging storm under the phenomenon of an eclipse. With lightning in your veins, thunder in your heart and chaos in your bones.

He shouldn't feel hope in your sorrow but he’s glad Lucien didn’t choose you. Azriel would choose you; In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, he’d find you and he’d choose you.*

If he had the chance he’d rewind the clock and say what he actually meant. If not for a chance at forever then to ease your heavy heart. The words he spoke out of jealousy would hold a different meaning had he spoken them out of love.

‘Lucien can't love you the way I want to love you. He has a mate! So you were not made for him, but perhaps you were made for me. She’s pretty and sweet, sunshine and rainbows. But you balance strength and femininity like no one else. You're stunning, and selfless, you glow like the moon and shine brighter than the stars. She's gentle and soft but she can never compare to you. Not then, not now, not ever. No one has compared to you.’

But those words remain unspoken as he watches your figure retreat into the orange glow of the forest. Your beautiful wounded wings gracing the ground with your presence, leaving behind a trail of starlight. It was then he realized you didn't need to be saved, you needed to be found.

~~~~~~~~

You could cry tears of happiness as you near your humble cottage. Weaving through the tallest of trees and jumping over a running brook with flat rocks covered in moss. A sigh leaves your lips as you take in the place you call home. The wood creaks a familiar sound as you bounce up the worn steps.

Before your hand reaches the bronze knob, the door swings open and warmth envelopes you in a crushing hug. Your melodious laugh echoes in the air as strong arms spin you round and round. Your eyes meet those of amber as he finally lets your feet touch the floor. “I’ve missed you so much,” he admits, as a warm palm cradles your face, gently tracing circles on the apples of your cheek. He wraps his arm around your waist bringing your body flush with his. His heat offers a comfort not found with anyone else. And you allow yourself to melt into him as he softly brings his lips to yours.

His tender kiss turns desperate when you run your fingers through his auburn hair, lighting a fire that only the wetness between your legs can extinguish. The night runs long as this male beds you over and over and the only name that slips past your lips like a prayer is, “Eris. Eris. Eris.”

Part 4

A/n: The Vanserra brothers have entered the chat. 😏 what do you think happened between Lucien and Reader? any guesses?

taglist: @blackgirlmagicforever @going-through-shit @dr4g0ngirl @mybestfriendmademe @isa1b2h3

[confessedlyfannish]

Six Years Ago

Part 1

Part 2

Jon wakes slowly, warm and clean and strong for the first time in weeks. His stomach growls and he wants food, craves a thick juicy cheeseburger instead of feeling nauseous at the thought of it. Breathing comes easy instead of the slow rattle that was making its way through his chest, though the straps going around his face and the back of his head are itchy and the air itself is chilly, a strange icy patch around his mouth and nose amidst what feels like the best heated blanket in the world.

Strong arms shift around him, and the relief is so palpable tears of it form in his eyes as he slides them open, ready not to waste another minute of not seeing Superman, because Dad's found him—

Instead he sees a slight smile, inhuman in the jag of the canines and green eyes that glow in the vast abyss of space.

"Hey there, hey—" the man is saying, white hair drifting around his face, and he's saying other things but Jon is still looking for his Dad, his Dad was here wasn't he, those were his Dad's arms—

Except they weren't. They're this man, this alien's arms, one around his back and the other under his knees, cradling him in the flames of Earth's sun, and he was there, in the lab.

One moment Jon had been hiding from the robot that had been hunting him for days, taunting him as he dodged booby traps and ate leaves that made him sick. He'd grown weaker and dirtier even as Damian's voice in his head urged him to fight, to stay alive, and he'd fallen asleep to a violet sky and the ghost of his mother's hand on his forehead, cool against his warm brow.

He'd awoken inside of a tube, a concave shape of a person, holding his eyes open long enough to see the man peering at him as if he was an exhibit. Don't tap the glass. Or do. Jon wouldn't bite. He couldn't remember how.

And now he is here, threads of plasma tickling his skin, feeling better than he has in days. Behind the man is Earth. Home. Jon is only 93 million miles from home.

He can make it. He will make it.

He stares at the man keeping him from his home, his family, and the tickle in his eyes turns to fire in a matter of blinks. Red light hits the alien straight in the chest and with a shout, he releases Jon.

Jon wastes no time, flying in the direction of Earth. He'd struggle with this, all of this, but adrenaline sharpens his abilities. The mask strapped over his mouth and nose provide oxygen from the pack taped to his chest. He wants nothing more than to rip it off but he leaves it be.

His focus is singular, the apartment in Metropolis. He can feel his Mom's arms around him already. He's formulating what he will say to his Dad, how he will explain about Jor-El. He is worried they won't believe him. Ashamed of what he committed to and then ran away from. He told his Mom to go. He said he would be fine.

He doesn't want to think about the floating island, or talk about it, and he decides he won't. He is a runaway, a failed Superson, but he is not the boy on the floating island. He didn't shiver from fever, tearing at his cape to bandage the wounds from the robot's green metal claws. He did not scream in fear when a trick arrow carved a path down his cheek. He did not give up, covered in bush and counting his ribs like a messed up lullaby.

His Dad can make the trip to the Sun in ten seconds. Jon thinks he flies even faster, and later he will think that is the reason he doesn't notice the Watchtower is missing.

But he does notice Metropolis is gone. Instead of the Daily Planet's gleaming golden globe, he lands in a marsh. Herons fly up and away, squawking in startled choir as he touches down, water lapping up to his knees. He looks to his left but there's nothing but tourists on a floating wooden path in the far distance, taking photos of geese as they weave trails through the water that was supposed to be home.

He looks to his right, and the man from space is there, floating above the water.

Jon flies to Kansas.

By the time the man catches up with him, Jon is curled up in his grandparent's corn field, except it isn't their corn field. He digs a hand into the ground and brings up light, loose soil that tastes like citrus, acidic and unbalanced in a way Ma Kent would never let stand (and he lets it fall from his palm with a shudder, reminded of the mud on the alien island he'd eaten, before the nausea had set in but long after pride had fled). The barn at the far end of the field has a blue door, not red.

"Dad," Jon mumbles into the ground. "Dad."

Feet lightly touch down, but this time Jon knows they aren't his father's.

The man has no heartbeat, nor breath. Even the silver robot softly whirred. But the man is silent as he touches down beside Jon, who will not go back to the tube.

Survive, Damian's voice demands. Jon closes his eyes to the world, this utterly wrong world, and he flies.

[lunarfleur]

Miles Morales Dating Headcanons

Tagging: @juneberrie @sluggmuffin

Warnings:fighting mentions

A/N:I’m in love with him he’s a cutie patootie ☹️☹️

This is x gender neutral reader!

He’s honestly just so cute

The type of guy to smother you in kisses and hug you really tightly every time he sees you

Simple nicknames like babe. Throws in a Cariño or Hermosa every once in a while

Like I said, he’s a hugger in every universe.

If you don’t greet him with hug the second he comes into view, there’s a problem

“Not a hi…? Not a hug? A kiss? Hello??”

Just like Earth 42! Miles, he keeps his room clean for you

Like it’s typically organized anyways, but he makes sure to clean clean before you come over

Vacuums, dusts, picks up clothes

Makes sure his bed is made perfectly, fit for only the best cuddles

Movie nights happen as often as possible

You’ll cuddle up on his bed, suffocatingly close to each other

It’s so easy to fall asleep because he’s so warm and he smells so good

Initiate any form of affection with him. He’ll die.

You kiss him? Dead.

You compliment him? Dying.

Tell him you love him? On the floor.

He’s just so in love

He never gets over it

Same with Earth 42! Miles, he’s young and you make him excited

Playful, giggly make out sessions that never lead anywhere except tickling or play fighting with each other

Lip biting, laughing, uncoordinated movements that have you both making fun of each other

The sweet, happy make outs that make it seem as if the world is perfect.

In no way is this boy ashamed of PDA.

You know the scene in ITSV, where his dad drops him off at school and makes him say he loves him?

He’s like that.

Nothing can come between your feelings for each other.

Ankles hooked under the table and shoulders touching when sitting next to each other.

Holding hands when walking together.

Those kinds of things.

He’s a dork. Everyone knows it. He knows it. You know it. The whole school knows it.

He’s come to terms with it. It doesn’t bother him anymore.

He doesn’t have many friends, but it doesn’t bother him.

He’s friendly to everyone and, even though he isn’t besties with everyone he’s ever seen, people have respect for him

He’s got this showy kind of confidence to him, and it’s so easy for him to make people laugh.

He’s warm and playful, almost in a nostalgic kind of way.

Miles loves his parents more than everything. Not only did they give him life, but they’ve been there for him through everything.

He knows that.

He wants you to meet them, for you to become a part of the family.

He wants to show you everything that makes him Miles.

And, of course, he wants to meet your family.

He wants to see where you come from.

But if you say no, that you just don’t think it’s a good idea, he won’t push it.

His parents are sweet people

They’re understanding

So when they walk in on one of those playful make outs?

The first few times they drill him about being safe. The rest of the times they let it go.

Fighting with Miles is one of the biggest differences between him and his Earth 42! counterpart.

This Miles will yell. Not necessarily at you, just in general.

He’s got big feelings and a lot to say

Of course he hates raising his voice at you, but he honestly does it without thinking

But fights with him never last long.

He won’t let you go until the problem is resolved.

Even if you’re at his place and his mom hesitantly reminds him that he has to walk you home

He makes it clear that nobody’s leaving

He does his best to stay calm, and you two talk it out

And then he kisses you and gives you one of those big hugs

Everything’s always okay with you two.

Miles was honestly okay with telling you about being Spiderman.

He knew he was gonna disappear randomly. So after a bit, he told you.

It was surprisingly nonchalant

And he told you about how it all happened

He included his uncle’s death, Peter, Gwen, even “the pig who sounds suspiciously a lot like John Mulaney” as he calls him.

He takes you swinging and you two have dates where you watch he sunset on top a building

He doesn’t miss out on things as much as Earth 42! Miles does.

Miles takes every opportunity to draw you

He has sketchbooks upon sketchbooks filled with pictures of you

You sleeping, you smiling, you doing literally anything.

He just thinks you’re so cute, he can’t help it.

[angelltheninth]

Remind Me to Hate You

Pairing: Prince!Jason!Todd x Enemy Princess!Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, forbidden relationship, hate sex, dry humping, enemies to fuck buddies, teasing, banter, hallway sex, quickie, dirty talk

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: This is part of the Behind the Ballroom collab hosted by @blueparadis.

When Jason started at you from across the table with a smug expression the least you wanted to do was slap him. The most you wanted to do? Well that would make the entire peace negotiation moot.

Plus you were well aware that in his father's kingdom he had the advantage. The Red Prince of Gotham, your sworn enemy, and yet the object of many of your wet dreams as of late.

As the princess it was your duty to attend this peace meeting and make sure things went smoothly. That was your mission and you will not let Jason and his boyish charm distract you from it.

"You listening Princess, or is your head in the clouds. Or perhaps the gutter from how you've been looking at me the whole meeting." Jason leaned on his elbow, his red hood somewhat obscuring his face, but you could clearly see his blue eyes looking at you.

"Jason. Behave." King Bruce reprimanded him but it seemed to have very little effect as he only shrugged and leaned back with his hands behind his head, his smug smile not leaving his face for the entirety of the meeting. Honestly you couldn't wait for it to be over either, perhaps then you could talk some sense and manners into him because he seemed to have barely any from what you saw of him.

Jason was crass, rude, loud and impulsive. The exact opposite of a model prince. The exact opposite of what you should want. And yet you found yourself fingers deep in your pussy at late hours of the night, thinking about him. It was maddening.

What was even more infuriating was that he refused to just let you be. He was constantly teasing you, even now as you walked out of a pretty tense meeting, there he was, right at your heals, his red cape dragging behind him.

"That could have gone better. And my old man was really trying in there. He always fancied himself as more of a businessman you know?" He gestured a lot with his hands. You noticed that ever since you met him. And also how big his hands looked.

"So I assume you're the complete opposite. From the rumors I hear you were more than happy to rush into a battle with us. You need to get a better hold on your impulsiveness, and rudeness, because one day it might get you in trouble." You tried to walk in front of him and to your bedroom but Jason was a little too fast for you. Unfortunately.

He slouched down a bit, his face now the same height as yours, "And will you be the trouble I get into?"

"You are so damn crass. I would never dream of being with a man like you. I'm surprised you're even a Prince with that attitude of yours." Except you did. An embarrassing amount too. "Now if you'll excuse me I- Jason!"

His hand held your wrist tight as he pushed your against the nearby wall, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath tickling your lips. His eyes were colder than usual, sending chills down your spine. But strangely, or perhaps not given your recent nightly activities, it wasn't the bad chills.

"I hate being in these meetings just as much as you do. And hell I probably hate you just as much as you hate me. The difference is that I don't dwell on that every passing hour of the day, I actually try to have fun and not have a stick up my ass the whole damn time."

"How dare yo-" His mouth was on yours before you could finish your rebuttal. There was nothing soft or gentle or sweet about the kiss. It was a messy fight for dominance that neither of you wanted to lose. It was hard to tell who won at the end because the only real reason you separated was because your lungs could only handle so much. "What the fuck was that?"

Jason licked his swollen lips which then formed a smug smile, "So you do curse. Not every Princess-y behavior. And in any case I think this," He looked between the two of you, "Is a much better solution than the two of us trying to kill each other. More fun too."

"And what is this Prince Jason?" You narrowed your eyes at him, fearing that his answer would be be the truth you've been afraid to admit this whole time.

His lips brushed against yours again, his eyes looking deeply into yours, pulling you along by an invisible thread, "Our lust. I've seen how you look at me. Let me be the first to admit I've had to take care of my cock many times since I saw you. And I've come to the conclusion that you'd be better at it than I."

"You underestimate my self control." You didn't deny his claim, Jason would take note of that, you knew he would.

"I think you overestimate it. And mine too." This time it was you who kissed him first, wanting him to just shut up already and stop speaking the truth. It was torment to deal with it in private, to have it all out in the open like this was driving you crazy. Jason was driving you crazy.

Yet no matter how you tried to fight this feeling you opened your mouth for him, you slid your tongue against his, you explored his mouth, you swallowed his moans as he did yours, you grew more wet as you felt him get hard and poking at you.

"I always appreciate an honest woman." He grinned against your lips when his hand traveled under your skirt and pressed over your underwear, clearly wet and slick from your arousal, "I think someone's been having a few dreams like this."

"Are you betraying your own thoughts?" You threaded your fingers together around his neck, grabbing at the hood his wore and pulling it down, revealing the entirety of his annoyingly smug and handsome face. And that damn annoying, yet absurdly attractive lock of white hair that always fell perfectly over his forehead. "Perhaps you should learn to keep such lewd things to yourself."

"Perhaps you, my dear Princess, should learn to be more honest with yourself. But I know exactly how to loosen you up." His thick finger poked at your opening through your underwear, pushing in as far as he could, the fabric providing a barrier but also something to grind against, especially when he was so closely pressed against you, "I can't wet to get you in my bed. Not tonight though, there's work to do in the morning. Can't risk your daddy finding out that I defiled his precious little girl right as peace negotiations are going on."

So he wasn't going to fuck you? That realization only made you more angry at him. You're not some delicate flower that needs to be saved under a crystal bell.

"The more you talk the more you make angry. Why?" You bucked your his into his hand, needing to get this over with, perhaps once it's out of your system you'd be able to get a good nights sleep. Oh who were you kidding, it would probably make the issue worse. Jason was a danger, one that you seemed to have no problem getting close to. "Why do you insist on it?"

"I think you're incredibly hot when you're angry. And I think that us fucking out our anger sounds pretty fun don't you?" You moaned at his words, feeling the warmth of his palm cupping your pussy over your underwear.

"No." Yes. It sounded incredible. You could ride his cock until he passed out and couldn't get it up anymore. He could rail your pussy until it was so sensitive just him breathing on it would make you come.

"Didn't take you for a liar Princess, or such a harlot, you're getting my hand wet even through your clothes. I must be doing something right aren't I? Mind you I have been getting a lot of praise for my skills."

Praise? Him? In this sort of thing. For reasons unknown it made your heart squeeze and ache, "From who?" You nearly spat the question at him without even realizing it.

"Oh you know. A maid here, a nice tavern lady there, a beautiful knight lady. A very annoying enemy Princess." His hand withdrew just as he spoke those words, he examined it with curiosity for a moment before grabbing you under your thighs with both hands and lifting you up. Your legs wrapped around on their own accord, your hands fisting against him, one into his hood and the other into his jet-black hair. "At least I'm hoping that her Highness will like it."

As hard it was to admit you liked it very much in your fantasies. Time to see how the real Jason compared.

"Just try me." Your lips pressed over his in a challenge.

"Oh I intend to. This will only be a taste. You better be able to handle it." That was not a threat, it was a promise and one that you were eager to see him keep at that.

Jason accepted your challenge, he always did, meting you in the middle with just as much ferocity as he put into grinding his hard cock against you. The bulge hit exactly over your clit, each roll of your hips against his sending more ecstasy into your brain. You wished there was no clothes in the way so you could feel his throbbing hot hot cock against your naked pussy, feel his cum trickling down, see it. Yet you were well aware of the risks. Even if you didn't get caught there was a chance you could get pregnant if he didn't pull out in time.

Part of you wished he wouldn't. That part of you scared you, so you decided to hide it away under moans and whimpers and chasing quick pleasure and release.

"You can go faster, I won't break. You say you hate me, so fuck me like it. Or I will." You rolled your hips in a long and slow circle, knowing how much he could feel your wet pussy even through layers of clothing.

"When this treaty is settled maybe I will. For now be a good little Princess. Or are you saying you can't get through this ordeal without having some good cock clamming your cunt? If I knew that was the case I would have spared you the agony and seeded on your first night here." His grip on your thighs became more firm, almost as if he was trying to brand you with his hands, "I can feel your pussy fluttering. You want to get breed by your enemy, ready to open your legs for the first real man you see. You claim to want the throne of your kingdom but the only thing you really want is me being balls deep in your pretty pussyhole."

"I'm partly flattered that you thought about my pussy so much you've come up with such a narrative. Perhaps it's your cock that needs some company other than your hand." You saw him clench his teeth at you, good, you just had to keep provoking him until he exploded. You leaned in close to his ear, your voice dropping to a low, sultry tone, "I could ride it all day, keep it warm for you until its time for you to give me your cum. Suck you off and taste you, taste us."

"Fuck." He groaned, his voice strained, "That's right. You're a Princess to your people but for me you'd be a harlot. A warm hole for my cock. Instead of a throne you'd sit on my cock all day, taking it like the needy wonton woman you are. I could stay inside you all the time, fuck, even during meetings if I could." His voice suddenly got more high pitched, he clearly shared more than he wanted to, "We'd be perfect together don't you think? Both strong and stubborn as hell." He chuckled, no laughed, laughed with that boyish laugh you heard so much about. It melted your heart a little to hear such a sound.

Your legs locked tighter around his lower back, pressing him flush against your body, your breasts aching for a moment before he realized he was crushing you pushed away, at least his upper half.

"Indeed. We might be." You kissed him again, your bodies shaking in unison as you continued to hump each other like rabbits in heat until your orgasms crashed and subsided. Yours, sending a flood of fresh arousal down your thighs, Jason's, making a very prominent stain on the front of his pants that you're not sure how he intends to hide. "But I'm afraid you're gonna have to do better than that to win me over, my Prince."

"The pleasure will be all mine, my Lady." The pleasure, if this was anything to go by, will very much be for the both of you. If you didn't actually kill each other first that is.

[mcgrillzdumpinc]

I'll likely make a more in depth post once I've read through all the translated light novels but

Hello Apothecary Diaries fans I am in volume 8 and would like to reassure you about the choking scene from volume 5

Spoilers under the cut!

Okay so there's a scene at the end of volume 5 (the manga is not there yet) that many have interpreted as sexual assault. For the sake of those sensitive to such topics, I'm going to give a light on spoilers version of the scene and then an in depth analysis. Personally, I do not view the scene as sexual assault, but it is very forceful and carries A LOT of very sad subtext. You'll understand what I'm getting at in the more depth part.

So, the general gist of the choking scene.

MaoMao and Jinshi are in the garden to escape a banquet. They talk for a bit about a very scary incident that occurred that day (thankfully nobody was killed) and share casual conversation. Then Jinshi brings up that they're at this banquet to find him a wife. I won't spoil the specifics, but fyi MaoMao has been wearing an accessory this whole time that loudly announces (to everyone except herself, of course) that She's The Favorite™. Despite how obvious Jinshi has been with his intentions, including holding her hand and combing his other fingers through her hair while mentioning the whole wife thing, MaoMao evades him while thinking "I'm not capable of love". So, she tries to dodge him by offering up another woman. This is what causes Jinshi to snap and choke her, as well as hold one of her arms behind her back to stop her from fighting back.

He doesn't kill her. As far as damage to her throat, the text doesn't indicate any. He then leans his weight on her. MaoMao then remembers how she was taught sex techniques against her will be the Verdigris House women & decides to use those techniques against Jinshi. She then promptly leaves and Jinshi feels like the most pathetic man in world.

The two don't interact beyond official matters until towards the end of volume 6. Jinshi brings more rare medicine in lieu of an apology. The two talk around the wife situation again and MaoMao gets tickled. It isn't until volume 7 that they have an actual conversation breakthrough.

That's my light on spoilers version of the events. Now I'll give a more in depth version, that's honestly a good chunk of my own meta-analysis around the events of volume 5.

Honestly, volume 5 is full of really interesting scenes regarding Jinshi and MaoMao. This is the first volume after Jinshi has been forced back into Imperial Brother status, yet the first thing I noticed that actually changed between JinMao is how MaoMao takes initiative with him now. As soon as she learns an insect plague might be on the horizon, she dives into unprompted research and delivers her findings to Jinshi. She's no longer working at the palace or for Jinshi, but she still takes on the extra burden. She also takes initiative to get Jinshi some extra sleep (though she misinterprets his desire to not sleep alone). And later in the novel, when they're in the paper makers' village, MaoMao acts so cute when reapplying Jinshi's burn scar makeup. I'll let screenshots talk for me.

Like man. She's so cute. And I wonder, if these two didn't have to deal with social standing and imperial drama, would we get way more of them just being cute and companionable? If MaoMao wasn't an unwitting member of the Who Wants To Be An Imperial Princess race, would her feelings for Jinshi have grown without so much pushing and urgency on his end?

But I digress. I think a lot of volume 5, especially once they reach their travel destination, is MaoMao trying her best to keep her blinders on even though she is in the thick of imperial drama. She's especially desperate with regards to the blazingly obvious fact that a certain someone of very high status is in love with her. I think the end of chapter 6 does a very good job of driving home one of the major reasons why MaoMao is reluctant to trust Jinshi's feelings.

To add fuel onto this unfortunate fire is that MaoMao, as an unmarried courtesan's daughter, was attacked as an infant by her mother, sought after by fucking Lakan of all people, ignored while crying as a baby, and forcibly taught sex (to the point of tears!). She also had to cover for Luomen's own eccentricities, specifically ensuring they had enough money to feed themselves. MaoMao, to put it shortly, has been taught not to believe she can attain anything beyond her very simple life of being a lowly apothecary.

And then here's Jinshi who, as a prince, has been forced to grow up fast & have all his favorite things taken away from him. I think MaoMao is the first time he ever wanted a person. He is, for lack of a better word, obsessed with her. I think a lot of his pushiness & tendency to be clingy with her is him desperately trying to make sure he doesn't lose her. If he makes her his wife, then, well, she can't leave.

And I think the choking scene is him finally at his breaking point. At this point, he has lavished her with gifts, been very forward sexually with her twice, and given her a new hairpin that is essentially this story's version of a promise ring. It's MaoMao's repression/reluctance vs. Jinshi's desperation and so far she's winning.

But then she pushes him past his breaking point and he takes physical action against her. MaoMao responds by performing an unspecified sexual act on him.

So why don't I personally take this scene as sexual assault?

Mainly because I think the people actually guilty of sexual assault her are the Verdigris House women who forced MaoMao to learn sex.

As far as I understand it, whether MaoMao can actually say no to Jinshi is left up to interpretation. If we're talking on social status terms, she can't say no. But if you look at Jinshi's overall treatment of her, both before and after this scene, I very much think MaoMao can say no and instead chooses to defuse the situation.

Because what isn't for interpretation, however, is MaoMao's abysmal impression of what love and sex can actually be for her. So she defuses a situation by using sex, something she herself doesn't like, and doesn't allow Jinshi to reciprocate, which leaves him feeling terrible, too.

I want to be clear. I do think Jinshi is in the wrong for physically attacking MaoMao. But the sexual portion of the scene, at least to me, falls squarely on the shoulders of MaoMao's fucked up backstory.

Anyway, I think I've typed for long enough. I am using the official translations of the light novel for this analysis, so if any fans have access to alternate translations or WN only knowledge that throw my analysis in the trash bin, please let me know (fyi puedo leer el español).

[bg-brainrot]

Second winter fluff prompt for the BG3 Holiday Challenge!

Prompt: Ice and Snow

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Love at First Knife, on AO3 here

Premise: Astarion is always cold, used to a nocturnal lifestyle and a distinct lack of blood in his veins. However you, the sad little mortal, are not prepared for the winter’s chill. When you experience your first snowfall together, Astarion makes it his personal mission to ensure that you’re bundled up.

Tags: Fluff, POV Second person, Gender-neutral pronouns, Post-Canon

Word count: ~1.1k

“Astarion, please,” you say, voice muffled behind a thick, knitted scarf. “You’re completely overreacting.”

The vampire tuts at you, as he deposits a fur-lined hat upon your head, and a few dangling tassels tickle your ears. “Now darling, what did I tell you about fighting me on this?”

“That you would tie me up and–”

“No, the other thing,” he interrupts, though a salacious smile comes over him at the thought.

“Oh. That you wouldn’t let me make a snow celestial…” you sound dejected, and you downcast your eyes to appear pitiable.

Astarion, for his part, only finds joy in your reaction, a delighted giggle being his only response.

“What about you?” you challenge, as he tries to shimmy another coat onto your already quite padded frame. "You were just complaining about the cold the other day!"

“I’m coldblooded, my dear. And you know I only complain for the attention,” he says, kneeling down to lace your boots for you. If you tried to bend down right now, you’re certain you’ll fall over in a pile of furs and fluff. “I shall be just fine with my current coat.” He’s currently wearing a fitted red winter coat, an embroidered pattern of roses in gold along its sleeves and collar– the epitome of a dashing man, next to your shambling mound.

“Stupid, sexy vampire,” you mutter under your breath. He only laughs and places yet another scarf around your neck.

Satisfied with his work, he takes a step back. “Would you look at that, my scary assassin is all ready to go outside,” he says, a bright smile on his face.

You level him with a murderous look, which loses some of its effect considering the scarves currently blocking your mouth. “I’ll show you scary,” you mumble, ready to attack your lover. You find that difficult now though, considering a slow shuffle is all that you can maintain.

He pays your death glares no mind, as he tucks one delicate little scarf around his own neck and declares that he’s ready to go outside as well.

You wobble after him, feeling nothing like the intimidating rogue you’re supposed to be. But you suppose if it means he won’t stop your snow celestials, some sacrifices, like your pride, must be made.

The first snowfall along the Sword Coast is always among the most beautiful and this year is no exception. Once you’ve made your way outside, you find yourself surrounded by a winter wonderland.

Pockets of snow line your roof, several inches of snow surround your house in every direction, and a light smattering of snow falls upon you now. You wish you could feel it, but between all of the layers, you only guess that it’s light and powdery– perfect for snow celestials.

Astarion peers around at the world, seeming rather unimpressed. “Well, isn’t that lovely. The ground is white.”

You ignore his lackluster response to the bounty of snow before you and make your way past him to the yard. With more of a stumble than a step, you fall into a particularly open patch of snow in front of your house. A puff of white snow explodes around you as you land, and you breathe out a single, “Oof.”

“Love, was that… on purpose?” Astarion asks, not far behind you.

“Mmhm,” you mumble into the snow. A backwards snow celestial it is. With all of the effort you can muster, you wave your arms and legs into the shape of wings and, well, whatever celestials had in place of legs. You can feel yourself overheating from the bundle of clothes surrounding you, but you’re determined to make this look good and ensure that Astarion understands that this is lovely.

After your exertions, you stop moving for a bit, just laying there in the impression of your snow celestial. Astarion, who’s likely been watching you this entire time, calls out, “Are you alright, dear?”

You raise your hand into a gloved thumbs up.

“Do you need help getting up?”

“Mhhhmmmm,” you groan into the snow. Your nose is starting to get cold and your sweat is chilling over.

“Alright then,” he responds, and you feel his legs carefully step around you, his arms tugging you onto your back and hoisting you up. Once you’re on your feet, your lover frowns at you and begins dusting you off with determination. “Darling, look at you. You’re going to get soaked to the bone with how much snow you’re covered in.”

“And whose fault is that?” you grumble at him.

“Yours, for insisting on the snow celestial,” he retorts, flicking your nose with his index finger.

That reminds you– You look down at your imprint in the snow, see what all of this unpleasant combination of cold and sweat got you. It’s a little lopsided, and both your and Astarion’s boots have left several footprints in the center, but it’s a solid attempt.

Brimming with pride at your work, you look to Astarion. “See? Look at how radiant my celestial looks.”

Astarion takes a look as well, and you can see the stifled laughter begging to come out.

“Don’t you dare laugh,” you say, pointing a stern finger at him.

He promptly defies you, as a hearty chuckle escapes him. “Sorry, dearest, but the hat you’re wearing makes it look like some kind of beholder.”

You look down to see that the tassels to your hat must have flung around as you moved, creating a crown of what could really only be described as eyestalks. “Well then. A snow aberration. I’m not picky,” you respond with a shrug.

Astarion smiles at you, open affection coloring his gaze, before he pulls you into a wide hug. “Fantastic work, love. Your talent is unmatched. And maybe– just maybe– it was worth all of the effort.”

You lean into him and his praise and say, “I suppose I should thank you for making sure I stayed warm.”

“Oh no need,” he says, squeezing you tightly. “Seeing you look like a large marshmallow is truly its own reward.” He drops his voice an octave and adds, “And somehow you still manage to look utterly enticing.”

You can barely feel his movements through the layers between you, so when he abruptly begins dragging you back to the house you give a surprised yelp. “What are you doing?”

“Your snow creature is done, now comes my favorite part– taking all of these layers off,” you catch Astarion’s quick wink before you’re ungracefully pulled after him.

There’s snow between your scarves, your toes have begun to chill, and fresh new snow is falling on your face, but somehow his words still warm you. “Was this your plan all along?”

“Naturally, my love. You know I would do anything to keep you warm,” his tone is innocent, the lidded eyes he gives you anything but. He must catch the flush covering your face because he laughs a melodic trill. “I’m starting to think I quite like wintertime.”

[byhees]

my late-night romance.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 700 genre fluff established relationship warnings not proof-read mention of food — more

a/n. blank

heeseung

staying up till two in the morning, and succumbing to the rumbles of your stomach, indulging in a late-night snack.

you sitting on the kitchen counter, watching as he grabs a pint of ice cream from the fridge.

sharing one spoon because neither of you wanted to do additional dishes, especially not this early, or late, in the day.

him feeding spoonfuls of the sweet dessert to you, watching as you lowly hum at the delectability of the treat.

jongseong

holding each other close in bed after settling down for the night, and having a small, childish argument about who loves the other more.

hearing him go on a passionate spiel, and smiling momentarily as you hear him list down the most beautiful descriptors for your relationship.

the conversation leading to a tickle match underneath the duvets, laughter bouncing off the walls.

yielding to one another, and simply falling asleep to his steady heartbeat, the sound lulling you to tranquility as your head finds respite in lying on his chest.

jaeyun

him listening to you talk about your day, except the dimness of the room causes his loving gaze to go unnoticed.

mindlessly ranting about a particular issue, or sharing about a mood-lifting incident, and hearing his fingers clumsily feel round the bed for your hand; his fingertips skimming across the back of your palm, the ticklish sensation being evidence of his successful scouring efforts.

hanging onto every word that leaves your lips, even if they turn into indistinguishable mumbles.

staying up till the late hours of the night, despite having to be up-and-about only a few hours later, because he’d prefer to sacrifice the minutes of sleep for such a priceless conversation.

sunghoon

lying down in comfortable silence as he plays with your hair, mindlessly curling strands around a finger or simply caressing your locks.

mutually enjoying the other’s company, despite the lack of words.

listening to the deep inhales, the soft dancing of window blinds with every small breeze, the ruffling of fabric as little movements are made to shift closer.

you tracing his delicate features as he sleeps.

seonwoo

him laughing out loud in the dark after hearing you blurt out random thoughts that would just casually form without any reason.

finding your unusual proclaims and questions more entertaining than any other television series, wanting to replay the inquisitive tone of your voice and the genuine curiosity laced in your words.

getting into lighthearted debates whilst snuggling up against one another under the blanket, not knowing if you two should just call it a day, or add another plausible point.

him unknowingly smiling to himself as you snore beside him, mind trailing off to the uncertainty of whether sleep would be possible while in such a giddy state.

jungwon

him cuddling up against your side and listening as you read a book aloud, the recited words falling from your lips in such an enchanting manner.

him staring at your parted lips for a second, losing track of the current happenings within the book.

catching a glimpse of you struggling to find a comfortable position to read in, so he simply moves to the side to pull you into his arms, your head now resting in a less strain-inducing spot.

both of you reading different characters in improvised tones and savouring the homemade audiobook.

riki

starting pillow fights in the living room for no absolute reason, but finding enjoyment in doing so.

laying down on the floor in exhaustion, pillows discarded all over the playing grounds, as you both stare at each other with nothing but admiration.

him swiping away some of your hair from your face just to get a better look at the grin prancing on your lips, your eyes sparkling under the light.

him insisting that he’d tidy up the mess, because he sees your eyelids flutter heavily every now and then, and he hears your words blurring together.

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