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alygator77 · 2 months

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ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony I ch 2 ᰔᩚ

ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader

ꨄ summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoru’s father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.

ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, slow burn, smut, fluff, bit of angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad, naoya is your crappy ex » 【note, there is physical & emotional intimidation in this chapter (from naoya not satoru), this is a form of domestic abuse, reader discretion advised】

ꨄ words: 12.5k

ꨄ a/n. firstly, wow thank you so much for all your kind words on ch 1 :") secondly, this series may be more than 3 chapters (maybe more like 4 or 5?) idk i'm still working out the pacing rn bc i really want the relationship to feel fluid and natural. this chapter ended up being much longer than i anticipated 😅 but as always, i would love to hear your thoughts and hope you enjoy ♡

ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)

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ch 2 // under the spotlight

Becoming a mother makes you realize you can do almost anything one-handed—though honestly, sometimes you wish you had an abundance of limbs.

Especially now. Your apartment is a whirlwind of activity – scattered toys, half packed bags and the remnants of breakfast still on the table. You’re in the middle of prepping your daughter’s essentials, trying to make sure you don’t forget anything important. Her preferred snacks, extra clothes, diapers, and a few of her favorite toys all stuffed into a bag.

“Mama, mama, look!”

Haru’s innocent voice rings out like a melody amidst your morning clamor. Halting your frantic movements, you’re drawn to her face, lit up with pure joy as she holds up her beloved Pikachu plushie. The bright yellow toy bounces in her hands as she makes it dance.

Her innocence provides a brief, much-needed, calm to the storm of nerves brewing inside of you. After all, today’s the day you’re meeting with Satoru and his lawyer to finalize the marriage contract. Your marriage—weird.

It feels odd saying it, the word foreign on your tongue. Marriage is a concept you never thought you’d be rushing into, especially not like this.

Once upon a time, you thought you’d marry Naoya Zenin.

Back then, you were so in love with his charm, his confidence, and the way he seemed to have everything figured out. But reality had a way of shattering those illusions.

His charm turned to arrogance, his confidence to control. It wasn’t long before you realized he cared more about owning you than loving you, and now you’re left with nothing but heartache and a broken family.

But amidst your turmoil you found a precious gift—Haru.

Her infectious giggle is a stark contrast to the chaos within your mind—it always manages to pull you back from your whirlwind of worries.

You’ll do anything in your power to keep her smiling, even if that means marrying Satoru Gojo, the man who is guilty for an abundance of your headaches.

With a deep breath, you zip up your duffle bag and turn to Haru who is lovably babbling to Pikachu.

“Come here, sweetie,” you say, kneeling down with her small jacket in your hand.

She toddles over to you, clutching her comforting plushie, eyes wide and curious.

Easing her tiny arms into the sleeves, you gently help Haru into her jacket.

“We’re going to meet some new friends today,” you tell her softly, fastening the buttons with care. “One of them is named Mr. Gojo.”

“Mr. Gojo?” she echoes, face scrunching up in concentration.

Truth be told, you weren't planning on bringing Haru to this meeting, but you’re faced with a lack of options, especially since technically, you’re fired.

Well… temporarily.

Until Satoru rehires you, paying the nanny isn’t feasible with your already stretched finances, Utahime, your ever-reliable friend, is unavailable. Your neighbor, who sometimes steps in to help, is out of town, and your mom is… your mom – as undependable as ever.

At this point you'd rather be caught dead than call Naoya again.

Calling him yesterday, when your nanny bailed, was a moment of pure desperation, a lapse in judgment driven by the chaos of the day and the fear of getting fired. Not your proudest moment.

It’s no surprise he’ll likely use it against you—hold it over your head like a weapon. It’s a pattern you’re all too familiar with.

But today marks the beginning of a new chapter, one that you’re determined to make the best of for both you and your daughter—once this marriage is finalized, you’ll be back to earning a steady income again.

A sigh escapes your lips as you focus back on Haru, her innocent eyes look up at you expectantly.

“Yes, Mr. Gojo,” you repeat, giving her a reassuring smile as you reach down to tie her shoelaces. “We’re going on an adventure today, just you and Mommy.”

“An adventure!” Haru cheers, clapping her hands in unbridled excitement.

Just as you pull the last loop tight, a knock reverberates through the front door, startling you. It’s unexpected, you weren’t anticipating any visitors.

With a deep breath, you twist the handle and pull the door open. The sight that greets you sends a cold wave of dread crashing over you, your heart pounding in your chest.

Speak of the devil—Naoya.

He has an uncanny knack for impeccable timing, always appearing when he’s least wanted.

His presence is as imposing as ever—a smirk crowned on his lips, posture relaxed, hands in his pockets—exuding an air of ownership over everything that’s around him.

As if he owns you.

Damn it. You really can’t deal with this right now; you don’t have the time. Satoru is expecting you, and you need to get moving.

Leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe, he surveys you with that annoyingly smug expression plastered upon his face.

"Well, well, if it isn't my two favorite girls," he drawls, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

The frustration you feel from Naoya is vastly different from what you experience with Satoru. With Satoru, it's harmless—like dealing with a mischievous child. But with Naoya, every sight of him makes you want to flee, as if each encounter is a battle you barely survive. He reopens old wounds that never truly healed, leaving you raw and exposed.

Every fiber of your being screams in protest at the sight of him, but you force yourself to maintain composure—refusing to let him see the effect he has on you.

"What do you want, Naoya? I really don’t have time for this today."

Turning away from him, you begin gathering the last of Haru’s things with brisk, precise movements, making it clear you have no intention of prolonging this interaction.

He steps inside, smirk widening with satisfaction and tone laced with mock concern.

"Just thought I'd drop by and see how you're managing. Got your message. Heard you were looking for a babysitter yesterday.”

As expected—you’re really kicking yourself for calling him. His false sympathy only heightens your irritation, grating on your nerves as the condescension drips from his words like venom.

If you weren’t already leaving, you would slam the door right in his smug face.

Gritting your teeth, you attempt to keep your tone steady, for no one other than Haru.

"We're fine, Naoya. We don’t need your help."

In hopes to end this conversation quickly, you grasp Haru’s hand and attempt to brush past him. But he sidesteps, effectively forbidding your path to the door, looming like an unwanted shadow.

"Still as stubborn as ever, I see. How’s that working out for you?” he scowls as he peers through your apartment, “This place is a mess. And you don’t look like you’re dressed for work. Lost your job already?”

His words hit a nerve, you feel your cheeks flush with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"We are managing just fine. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have somewhere to be."

But he wasn’t going to let you go so easily. His expression darkens, and as you repeatedly try to step past him, he halts you yet again, blocking your way like an insurmountable wall.

"And where exactly are you going? Shouldn't you be at work today?"

"That's none of your business. I really need to go," you retort, lifting your chin assertively as you force your way past him. Your shoulder brushes against his in a deliberate act of defiance.

The moment you cast him aside, he immediately pursues after—but choosing to ignore him, you close the door behind you, turning the lock with a decisive click.

As you start leading Haru towards the elevator, you adopt a brisk pace in hopes to put as much distance between you and Naoya as possible.

But he raises an eyebrow, smirk widening as he traverses after you. You hear his footsteps echoing down the hallway of your apartment complex.

"Oh, I think it is my business. Especially when it concerns my daughter."

Oh, please.

It’s painfully ironic how he pretends to care about Haru only when it suits him.

After you served him child support papers, he had the audacity to demand a DNA test, claiming he needed ‘proof’ that Haru was his. Of course, something like that takes time for the judge to arrange.

He knew that damn well—it was just another ploy to delay the process further.

As anger bubbles up within you, a scoff escapes your lips, teetering on the edge of a bitter laugh.

"Oh, so she’s yours when it’s convenient for you. Don't pretend you care about Haru now. You’ve done nothing but make our lives difficult."

Your movements are sharp and frantic until you finally halt in front of the elevator. Just as you press the button to descend, Naoya’s presence descends over you—suffocating like a dark cloud, his face twisting into a menacing scowl.

"Maybe if you weren’t so damn stubborn, things wouldn’t be so difficult. You know, if you ever need help, all you have to do is ask," the insincerity in his voice makes your skin crawl—as his words slither into your ears, each syllable is laced with a condescending edge.

You scoff, jabbing the button over and over again with mounting urgency. Can this damn elevator come any faster?

"Help? From you? I'd rather figure things out on my own than rely on your 'help'."

He steps closer, making you feel small and cornered. It’s a familiar tactic he would use to get his way—the accustomed sense of intimidation he used to exert over you returns, chilling your spine.

"Suit yourself. Just remember, you can’t keep this up forever. Sooner or later, you’ll realize you need me again,” his voice drops to a low, threatening whisper, the underlying menace making it clear that he relishes the control he still believes he has over you.

Suddenly, you feel small tiny hands gripping tightly onto your leg. Haru’s wide eyes dart between the two of you, her innocent face reflecting a nervous unease that she can’t fully understand—but you do.

Fuck it. Enough is enough. You can't let this continue any longer—screw the elevator.

With a determined breath, you scoop Haru into your arms, feeling her trembling slightly against you. "Come on, sweetie," you say softly.

Her tiny heart beats against your chest, mirroring your own anxiety. Holding her close, you immediately head towards the stairway, your stride quickening.

But Naoya's presence lingers, his footsteps echoing ominously after you.

“Really, Naoya?”

Oh, this is it. Your patience is wearing thin—he’s like a growth you can’t get rid of.

You feel Haru’s grip tighten around your neck as she buries her face into your shoulder. You have been trying desperately not to yell, for Haru’s sake, but at this point, Naoya is overstepping your boundaries.

“Just go away. The only thing I need from you is to hurry up and finish that damn DNA test,” you shout, refusing to look back as you head towards the stairs. “There was no reason for that bullshit; you know Haru is yours. I know you’re just trying to stall our court date,” you snap, your voice trembling with frustration and anger.

Naoya’s eyes gleam with a cold amusement, and the corners of his mouth curl up into a mocking smile.

"Stalling? Hardly. You’re insane, I just want to be thorough. You should understand that, being so meticulous yourself," he sneers, tone derisively sweet.

Finally, you reach the stairway—beginning your descent, Haru clings tightly to you as Pikachu dangles precariously from each hurried step.

"This conversation is over, Naoya,” your voice echoes in the narrow space. “Stay out of our lives. I only want to see you in court."

Naoya contemplates following you, lowering himself a few steps before abruptly stopping. As his voice reverberates through the stairwell, his unsettling demand bounces off the cold concrete walls, chilling you to your core.

"For now, y/n. But remember, this isn’t over. Not by a long shot. You always come crawling back to me one way or another. You’re incapable of anything without me."

There was a time when you believed those words, but you will not fall back into that same vicious cycle.

Choosing not to respond, your resolve is sharpened with one clear goal, getting Haru and yourself out of this building as quickly as possible.

The moment you clear through the lobby door, a shaky sigh escapes your lips. This day is already starting off with a bang—hopefully it goes much better at Satoru’s.

Forcing a smile for your frightened daughter, you try to mask the tears welling up in your eyes—the tremor in your voice quaking.

“Come on honey, let’s go meet Mr. Gojo.”

Time to get this marriage finalized.

ꨄ︎

You had expectations of what Satoru’s house would be like, but even those couldn’t hold a light to the real thing—it’s a stark contrast to the modest apartment you call home.

The meticulously manicured lawn, the pristine arcadian, and the large, ornate door all showcase opulence.

It’s far more luxurious than you had imagined, making you feel distinctly out of place as you step out of your car in your worn jeans and t-shirt, hair pulled up in a lazy bun.

Wait…should you have come dressed businesslike?

But you have Haru—was this supposed to be a professional meeting? Fuck.

On top of everything else, you’re already a few minutes late. Tardiness has become a tiresome trend in your life, one that exhausts you to your very core.

Traversing the entryway, Haru grips your hand tightly as you walk through the stone pathway. Her fingers tremble slightly, perhaps from the unsettling encounter with Naoya, or perhaps from the overwhelming new environment.

Nerves simmer through you once you approach the doorway, but you resolve to mask them. You weren’t going to let Naoya ruin your day—this meeting is your chance to retake control of your life.

As you reach out and press the doorbell, a soft melodic chime resonates, echoing through the spacious foyer beyond.

Within moments, the door swings open, revealing Satoru.

You immediately feel a sense of relief as you observe him dressed surprisingly casual—a fitted blue t-shirt that accentuates his broad shoulders and lean frame, paired with dark jeans that hug his long legs. His snowy hair remains tousled in that effortlessly stylish way, framing his strikingly handsome face.

It’s impossible to advert your eyes as he greets you with that familiarly confident smile curling upon his lips, and those vivid blue eyes, enchanting you with an intriguing glint.

“Hm, late again, I see,” Satoru teases, dramatically placing a hand over his heart as if wounded with an exaggerated sigh. “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t show up. Here I was, thinking you might divorce me before we even get married—” he stops, lifting his brow as his gaze shifts to the small figure peeking out from behind your legs.

“Well, well, and who is this?”

Haru’s wide eyes are filled with curiosity and apprehension. She peeps out nervously, clutching her plushie’s worn, familiar fabric for comfort.

Satoru’s smile softens as he looks at the little girl, but a twinge of uncertainty tugs at him internally. Children were a mystery to him, their emotions and reactions unpredictable.

What should he say? How should he act?

A flicker of fear crosses his mind—what if he says the wrong thing and makes her cry?

Oh God…

The thought of dealing with a child's tears makes him feel out of his depth, a sensation he’s not accustomed to. Satoru finds himself in unfamiliar territory. He’s used to commanding rooms and negotiating high-stake deals, not interacting with shy children clutching stuffed toys.

But faking confidence has always worked in the business world, and he is determined to make a good impression now.

As you notice Haru’s uncertainty, you gently caress her head, delicately coaxing her out from behind your legs.

"It’s okay, sweetie. This is Mr. Gojo, can you say hi?"

There is an air about you—the gentle ease in your voice, the way you instinctively know how to comfort Haru. It stirs something within Satoru, something he can’t quite place.

All he knows it that now he really doesn’t want to fuck this up.

"I’m really sorry for bringing her along," you begin, tone earnest as you meet Satoru with an apologetic gaze. "I hope it’s okay. I just didn’t have anyone who could watch her today. But she’ll keep to herself during our meeting, I promise."

Satoru’s expression softens further as he looks at Haru, his uncertainty momentarily forgotten. She is so fragile, so docile. In her delicate features, he sees an uncanny resemblance to you—a small reflection of your strength and vulnerability intertwined.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all,” he reassures softly. Crouching down to her level, his toothy smile is warm and inviting. “Hi there, I’m Satoru. What’s your name?”

Haru looks up at you for reassurance, her small hand tightening around your leg. Encouraged by your nod, she turns back to Satoru and whispers tentatively—

“Haru.”

Satoru grins, captivated by the softness and delicacy of Haru's voice. Though he is uncertain how to connect with a child. His mind races—

What do kids like?

What should he say next?

While his thoughts scramble, a spark of an idea forms the moment he observes Haru clutching Pikachu.

“Nice to meet you, Haru. Do you like Pokémon?”

Haru nods, her grip on the plushie relaxing slightly. There is a subtle warmth behind the apprehension in her eyes as she holds up her Pikachu toy to show Satoru.

“Yes, Pikachu.”

“Pikachu is pretty cool,” he lets out a contemplative hum as he tries to find common ground. A faint nostalgic smile plays on his features. “But you know, Digimon is even better. Have you ever heard of Agumon?”

Haru’s eyes widen with curiosity as she shakes her head, her interest clearly piqued.

Satoru’s inner child shines through—eyes sparkling with a genuine enthusiasm as his lips curl up into a grin. This is his chance to bridge the gap between them.

“Tell ya what, maybe we can watch some Digimon together sometime. How’s that sound?”

You feel Haru’s grip loosen on your leg. A faint smile touches her lips and a quiet giggle escapes as her initial shyness begins to slowly fade.

“Okay.”

There are many thoughts that come to your mind as you watch this interaction play out—the foremost being how unexpectedly gentle Satoru can be with kids. Something about him, that overconfident and sometimes arrogant man you’ve worked beside, feels different now. Almost likable.

Charming, even

But what you really can’t fathom the most is the image of a sophisticated billionaire engrossed in a kids’ cartoon. That concept alone is enough to make you suppress a laugh.

“You’re a fan of Digimon?” you raise an eyebrow.

Satoru stands up, brushing off his knees with a nonchalant shrug and a crooked smile.

“I used to watch it all the time growing up. Please, come in,” he ushers you inside the building, leading you down the grand hall.

Your breath hitches at the sight of the expansive foyer. The high ceiling, polished marble floors, and impressive chandelier casting a warm glow leave you speechless.

Following behind him, you find yourself studying Satoru’s confident strides—the movement of his back, his broad shoulders and the effortless air of authority he exudes. It’s a stark contrast to what you just witnessed moments ago with Haru.

But that alone makes him even more intriguing to you. Satoru can feel a bit like a wild card. Glimpses of tenderness hidden behind feigned aloofness—subtle playfulness followed by an exacting seriousness.

He keeps surprising you.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Digimon fan,” you remark as you follow behind him.

Satoru chuckles, scratching the back of his head.

“Guilty as charged.”

You can’t help but notice the way he avoids your gaze—is he perhaps being… bashful?

Oh, this is rich.

You really would need an abundance of limbs to count on your hands the amount of times Satoru has given you shit—making your life a daily torture is his specialty after all. Perhaps that is why you couldn’t resist letting this opportunity pass up.

“Next thing you’ll tell me is that you have a secret stash of Digimon cards somewhere,” you snort.

Satoru lets out a contemplative hum.

“Well, I did have a pretty impressive collection back in the day. Who knows, maybe I still have them tucked away in a drawer somewhere.”

“Seriously?” you are unable to hide the amusement in your voice. “You, with a collection of Digimon cards? That’s something I’d pay to see.”

He rolls his eyes with a pout tugging on his lips.

“You’re enjoying this too much. Maybe I’ll dig them out for you one day. But only if you’re nice.”

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Me, nice to you? That’s a tall order.”

A faint chuckle leaves Satoru’s lips as the spacious foyer transitions into a grand hallway. Haru skips beside you, glancing up at Satoru with a newfound admiration.

The moment you reach a large set of intricately carved wooden doors, he pauses, turning to you with a reassuring smile before pushing them open.

Inside, a cozy yet sophisticated study awaits—shelves lined with books and a large mahogany desk dominating the room.

“Yo, Suguru,” he waves flippantly, “this is y/n and her daughter, Haru.”

Your eyes are met with a man seated behind the desk—a calm and composed air about him. He is strikingly beautiful, raven hair tied back into a bun with louse tousles framing his face. As he looks up from a stack of papers, his sharp yet gentle eyes focus on you and Haru. He rises, extending a hand with a polite smile.

“Pleasure to meet you both. I’m Suguru Geto.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” you shake his hand with a subtle nod.

The presence of another stranger causes Haru’s shyness to return as she hides behind your legs again—you kneel down, smoothing her hair gently.

“Haru,” you pull out a small bag of her favorite toys from your duffle bag, “why don’t you take a seat over there and play with your toys while Mommy talks with Mr. Gojo and Mr. Geto?”

With a light nod, Haru takes the bag and settles into a comfortable armchair in the corner of the room—spreading out her treasures with a look of concentration.

You take a seat across from Suguru, with Satoru sinking into the chair beside you—posture relaxed and seemingly indifferent.

“Alright, let’s get down to business,” Suguru leans forward, “I’ve drafted the marriage contract based on the discussions I’ve had with Satoru. I’ll walk you through the main points.”

Referencing the document upon the desk, he begins.

“Firstly, as you both know, the purpose of this marriage is strictly business-related with no romantic implications. Both parties agree to maintain the appearance of a committed relationship in public and professional settings.”

Okay, easy—right?

You nod, but in the corner of your eye you can see Satoru lounging back in his chair. The mild disinterest on his face and the nonchalant way he twirls a pen between his fingers makes you grit your teeth.

He carries a casual attitude—one you shouldn’t be surprised with at this point because it’s the same infuriating aura he brings to every business meeting. But in this case, it’s a stark contrast to the gravity of this conversation. Here you are, discussing marriage and he’s sitting here as if you’re determining what to eat for lunch.

Yup, nothing’s changed. He still aggravates the hell out of you.

“Next, the duration of the marriage is set for one year, starting from the date of signing,” Suguru continues. “There are provisions for extending or terminating the marriage early, should both parties agree.”

You absorb every word as you listen intently, but Satoru seems to be in his own world. It takes all your self-control not to roll your eyes as you catch him leaning back further into his chair, now balancing it on two legs. He taps his pen against his lip thoughtfully—an indifferent expression plastered across his face.

Is he even listening?

Here you are, about to commit to a fake marriage for the sake of your job and your daughter, and Satoru looks like a bored child.

You shoot him a sideways glance, silently willing him to take this more seriously, but the moment he catches your eye he simply offers a lazy wink, making your blood boil even more.

Suguru, unfazed by Satoru's demeanor, continues outlining the contract.

“The financial arrangements are next…Satoru will include a monthly allowance to you, y/n, to cover personal and household expenses. Both parties will maintain separate bank accounts, and any joint financial decisions require mutual consent.”

You blink in surprise. A monthly allowance?

Though you had asked Satoru to cover child care, you weren’t expecting this level of financial support. Isn’t that a bit excessive?

“Wait, what?” you blurt out, unable to hide your astonishment. “A monthly allowance? For personal and household expenses?”

Satoru’s chair drops back onto all four legs with a soft thud as he leans forward, finally showing a hint of interest. He raises an eyebrow at your reaction, a lazy smile curling his lips.

“We wouldn’t want you or Haru to struggle, now, would we?”

His words sound almost considerate, but it’s the casual way he says them that makes you question his sincerity.

“Some might see you being my secretary as a conflict of interest now. You’ll still work beside me, but I can’t give you a formal salary for that role. Doing it this way ensures that all you have to worry about is playing your part. Besides,” he adds, a hint of amusement creeping back into his voice, “what kind of husband would I be if I didn’t support my wife?”

Raising an eyebrow, you shoot him a wary look, trying to gauge his true intentions. It makes sense… but is he mocking you, or is this his way of showing genuine concern? With Satoru, it’s always hard to tell.

Suguru clears his throat, drawing your attention back to the contract.

“Moving on to the living arrangements, you will both reside in the marital home here.”

Satoru interrupts, tone almost too nonchalant as he leans back in his chair and lazily stretches, “I’ve already arranged for a moving company to pack your things in a few days. They’ll handle everything.”

You blink, the suddenness of it all sinking in.

“Huh?”

“Problem, sweetheart?”

“I... I didn’t realize I’d be moving in so… soon. What about my apartment? I have a lease, and breaking it will incur a penalty.”

He waves off your concern with a dismissive hand, leaning back further with hands casually behind his head.

“I’ll pay it. Consider it handled. No point in you staying there when you’re supposed to be living here.”

Your eyes widen, taken aback by his insouciant dismissal of what, to you, is a significant expense.

“You’re sure?”

“Of course. We need to make this look legitimate, and that means living together. Consider it part of the arrangement.”

To him, solving problems with money seamed effortless.

To you, this isn’t just a contract; it’s a complete upheaval of your life.

You’re starting to really feel the difference in your two worlds.

The abruptness is a bit overwhelming, and yet, Satoru seems to handle it with the same ease he applies to all his business dealings.

It’s a bit unnerving. It’s not that you aren’t grateful, but you can’t help but wonder…does he pity you? See you as a charity act?

Suguru, sensing your hesitation, interjects your thoughts with a soothing tone,

“It’s important for appearances that you both share a residence. It solidifies the arrangement in the eyes of your colleagues and the public.”

You take a deep breath, nodding again. “Right, I understand.”

Suguru nods, making a note on the document.

“Good. Now, let’s move on to the responsibilities and obligations. You’re both expected to attend public and social functions, maintaining the façade of a loving marriage.”

Satoru who still remains leaned in his chair, now has his head tilted back, looking up towards the ceiling.

"Oh, and by the way," he begins, eyes flicking to you while his posture remains unmoved, "we'll be getting married at the courthouse tomorrow to make things official on paper. Our public ceremony will be a grand affair, but it will come later to keep the media satisfied and appease everyone."

Tomorrow?

You give a hesitant nod, absorbing the rapid pace at which your life is changing.

“Alright…tomorrow.”

Suguru flips to the next page, “In terms of termination, either party can initiate it with a 30-day notice. Grounds for early termination include breach of contract or mutual consent. Upon termination, Satoru will provide a one-time settlement payment to you, y/n.”

You blink as Suguru pushes the contract towards you, the settlement amount highlighted in bold. Did Satoru add a few extra zeros by mistake? That number can’t be correct, right?

You glance up at Satoru, who is now inspecting his nails with a look of utter boredom.

“Is this…correct?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

Satoru looks up, meeting your eyes with a casual shrug.

“Yeah, it’s correct. Consider it a thank you for playing along.”

You shake your head slightly, trying to wrap your mind around the figure. This settlement could change your life, secure Haru’s future, and give you the stability you’ve been desperately seeking.

You could pay off your medical bills for the childbirth, could go back to school. Hell, you could be free of Naoya, you wouldn’t need him or his money.

You narrow your eyes, suspicious of his sudden generosity.

"And what’s the catch?”

Satoru chuckles, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand.

"Come on now, sweetheart. Just think of it as me taking care of my...business partner."

Suguru clears his throat, glancing between the two of you.

“Well, there is one additional detail, y/n. The settlement is contingent on maintaining a favorable public image. Any actions or behaviors that damage Satoru’s reputation would result in the forfeiture of all financial support and settlement funds.”

You blink, the implications dawning on you. Ah, of course there would be a condition—you knew better than to think he was just being generous.

“So… I’m responsible for upholding your image? What does that even mean?”

Satoru’s crooked grin widens.

“It means no scandals, no controversies. You play the part of the perfect spouse, attend events, smile for the cameras, and keep any...personal indiscretions out of the spotlight. Simple enough, right?”

Your stomach churns as you realize the depth of his control—you thought you were escaping Naoya’s grasp, but it seems control is still a prevalent force in your life.

This isn’t just a marriage of convenience; it’s a binding agreement that keeps you in line with his public persona, ensuring that any slip-up on your part will have dire financial consequences.

A part of you can’t blame him, though. It makes sense for him to take extra precautions. The Gojos have always been in the public eye, and there have been countless rumors about Satoru's refusal to settle down.

“What if something happens that’s out of my control? What if someone tries to smear my name?”

Satoru’s eyes harden slightly, though his smile remains.

“We’ll handle that on a case-by-case basis. But let’s just say I have ways of managing the media. You just need to play your part, nothing more.”

The calculated control in his tone, juxtaposed with his unwavering smile, makes your skin prickle with unease. The room feels suddenly colder, and a knot tightens in your stomach. You thought you were stepping into a partnership, but now it feels like a performance where one wrong move could cost you dearly.

Suguru interjects, his tone professional.

“This clause is essential for protecting both your interests and Satoru’s. Maintaining a positive public image is crucial for the success of this arrangement and for avoiding any complications that could arise from negative publicity.”

You take a deep breath—this was a gamble. The settlement would secure Haru’s future, your future, but your every move would be scrutinized, and any misstep could strip away the stability you desperately needed.

Your eyes wander to Haru, quietly and innocently playing with her toys. For her sake, you were willing to play Satoru’s game, even if it meant living under the constant pressure of his expectations.

“Alright,” you say firmly. “I agree to the terms.”

Satoru’s eyes flicker with satisfaction and Suguru leans forward sliding a pen towards you both.

“Good. If you both agree to these terms, we can proceed with the signing.”

You observe Satoru as he reaches for the pen—he is back to that usual air of nonchalance; it is almost unsettling. He signs the document with a flourish, barely glancing at the terms, and you envy his composure.

When he hands you the pen, meeting your eyes with a confident smile, you hesitate for a second—then, with a determined snatch, you take the pen from his delicate hand.

Holding your breath, you press the pen to paper and sign your name in one fell swoop. Each stroke of the pen feels heavy, final, but also strangely empowering.

No turning back now.

ꨄ︎

The courthouse ceremony was as brief and impersonal as you expected.

Something about Haru witnessing you legally enter into a fake marriage just didn’t feel right—so you opted to leave her with Satoru’s nanny.

Standing in front of the judge, reciting vows, and signing the official documents felt more like a business transaction than a wedding.

Glancing at Satoru, you couldn't help but feel a bit solemn as you observed him, his expression as indifferent as ever.

This wasn't the fairy tale wedding you once dreamed of. There was no crowd, no rings, no romantic gestures—just a legal agreement with a pen on paper, binding you to him for the next year.

But then again, you knew that coming into this—it was never about romance or dreams; it was about survival and securing a future for Haru.

It was over as quickly as it began—just like that, the judge declared you husband and wife, immediately leaving you alone with Satoru right after.

Noticing your serious expression, Satoru leans in slightly as you gather the official documents.

"You look like you're attending a funeral, not a wedding Mrs. Gojo," his voice drips with playful mockery.

Hearing him call you ‘Mrs. Gojo’ sends a shiver down your spine. That was going to take some getting used to.

“And you look like you’re at a board meeting, not your wedding, Mr. Gojo,” you retort, unable to hide the underlying bite in your voice as your fingers shuffle through the pages.

A deep chuckle reverberates through the otherwise solemn atmosphere. Once you tuck the documents under your arm, you begin to make your way towards the exit. Satoru immediately falls into step beside you.

“Touché. But really, lighten up sweetheart. Gonna need to work harder to convince everyone you’re head over heels in love with me,” there’s a playful challenge in his voice.

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh.

“Well, forgive me for not swooning over this magical moment. You know, this isn't exactly how I pictured my wedding day," you mutter, trying to mask the internal melancholy whirling within you.

When you reach for the door, Satoru beats you to it, holding it open with a flourish.

"Oh? And how did you picture it?” he raises an eyebrow as his eyes gleam in amusement, “Let me guess, lots of flowers, a big white dress, and some poor guy professing his undying love for you?"

Okay, screw him. He was really not making this any better. You feel the heat rise to your face as a scoff escapes your lips—the only response you will give him.

Brushing past him, your heels click against the polished floors through the marble halls of the courthouse. As you glance to the tall, ornate windows lining the corridor, the sunlight streams through, casting intricate patterns.

“Hmm, think I guessed right,” he chuckles as he saunters after you.

“And what if you did?” you snap, voice echoing in the grand space. “Is it so weird for me to want a normal family for my daughter?”

The teasing glint in his eyes dim as his expression softens slightly. Once you reach the elevator, Satoru presses the button—the two of you wait in an awkward silence.

The moment the elevator door slides open, you both step inside, the quiet hum of the machinery enveloping you.

“No, it’s not weird. It’s just... different from what I’ve ever thought about,” he says while he presses the button to the lobby.

You huff, crossing your arms as you lean against the back of the elevator.

“What, Mr. Perfect never thought about settling down?”

Satoru's gaze drifts for a moment as he considers your question. The elevator begins its descent, the soft whirl filling the silence.

“Honestly? No, I never did. My father used to pressure me about it all the time. Wanted me to marry someone who could... 'enhance' our family’s status.” He was contemplative, and the echoes of old frustrations are clear in his voice.

You raise an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden openness.

The rumors about Satoru had always painted him as a carefree bachelor, uninterested in the constraints of marriage.

Some said he was too focused on his career, while others whispered that he enjoyed his freedom too much to settle down. There were even speculations that he had a hidden lover, or perhaps he was waiting for the perfect match to come along, someone who could stand by his side both in business and in life.

“…and you never found anyone who fit the bill?”

He chuckles, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“Plenty of candidates. None that I wanted to spend my life with. Plus, all those ‘suitable matches’ were just women trying to get their hands on the Gojo fortune. Most people just see the money and power. They don't see the person behind it.”

The vulnerability in his eyes is fleeting, and you realize that his father’s expectations must have weighed heavily on him. The pressure to find someone was not about love or companionship—it was about maintaining an image, a legacy. In a way, you both have been victims to control your entire lives.

As the depth of his frustrations become more apparent, you feel a pang of sympathy. It’s enough to make you wonder about the real Satoru. The elevator continues its descent, and you find yourself lingering on his words.

“That sounds... difficult. So why did you go through with this then? With me?”

His gaze softens; his expression thoughtful as he watches the numbers descending the floor levels. He tilts his head slightly, meeting your gaze with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Because you’re different. You didn’t come to me looking for wealth or status. You needed help, and I needed a solution. It’s honest, in a way. No hidden agendas, no false pretenses.”

A nervous flutter dances in your stomach, your fingers fidgeting with the folder of documents in your hands. The softness in his words catch you off guard, and you find it difficult to maintain eye contact.

A small, rueful smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“In a world where everyone wants something from me, I find your straightforwardness refreshing.”

Your heart skips as a warm blush creeps up your cheeks.

“I never thought you’d see it that way. I just... I wanted to do what was best for Haru.”

“And that’s what makes you different,” he replies softly. “You’re doing this for her, not for yourself. That’s why I agreed to this. Because I believe you’re sincere.”

The elevator chimes softly as it reaches the ground floor and the doors slide open to reveal the bustling courthouse lobby.

The weight of the conversation settles between you, a rare moment of vulnerability that made you see Satoru in a new light—a glimpse into his inner world.

The moment you near the courthouse door, you and Satoru push it open in an attempt to exit, but are immediately greeted by a barrage of flashing cameras and shouted questions. Paparazzi swarm around you, seeming to have materialized out of nowhere—how did they even know where to find you both?

Satoru, ever the master of public appearances, wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. His touch is warm and firm, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart through his suit.

The sensation of his hand resting securely on your hip sends a tingle through your body, a fluttering in your stomach—you realize now that this is the first time he has touched you.

“Smile for the cameras, Mrs. Gojo,” he whispers into your ear, breath tickling your skin.

You blink, heat rising to your face as you’re momentarily caught off guard by the sudden display of affection. But you quickly compose yourself, remembering the role you have to play.

Leaning into him slightly, you offer a shy smile to the cameras. The flashes intensify and the questions grow louder.

“Mr. Gojo why are you in a courthouse?”

“Mr. Gojo, what is the status of Gojo Corporation?”

“Who is this woman Mr. Gojo?”

“What is your statement on your father’s passing?”

As the paparazzi continue to snap photos and shout questions, Satoru leans down and presses a quick, gentle kiss to your temple. His lips were soft, and the warmth of his breath burned your skin. The gesture, though small, sends a shiver down your spine.

It was all for show, you reminded yourself. Just part of the act.

Yet, the unexpected intimacy lingered, making it hard to ignore the way your heart raced at his touch.

Satoru’s kiss had worked perfectly, fueling the media frenzy. The paparazzi went wild at the tender action—camera flashes intensifying and voices growing louder. They call out more questions, desperate to capture every angle of the seemingly affectionate moment. You feel the eyes of the crowd boring into you.

“Let’s get out of here,” Satoru murmurs, voice low and soothing amidst the chaos.

He reaches out, hand warm and firm as he interlocks his fingers with yours, gently guiding you through the throng of reporters towards the waiting car. His other arm subtly shields you from the crowd.

As you finally break free from the mass of flashing cameras and shouting voices, you slide into the car, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as Satoru slides beside you immediately after.

Glancing back at the courthouse, the reality of your new life begins to sink in. Once the car pulls away, a breath escapes you—one you didn’t realize you had been holding in.

“That was... intense.”

Satoru chuckles, arm resting behind your shoulder. He tilts his head slightly, allowing a few tousles of white hair to fall into his eyes. Through the soft strands, his gaze meets yours, a mix of amusement and seriousness dancing in his striking blue eyes.

“Welcome to my world," he murmurs. "Better get used to it, sweetheart. This is just the beginning.”

ꨄ︎

The following day, a moving company arrived at your apartment as promised—they packed up your belongings with swift efficiency, leaving you feeling like a spectator in your own life.

Watching your life be boxed up and loaded into trucks was bittersweet—as your small apartment, with its familiar creaks and cracks, had been your safe haven.

Everything was arranged, down to the smallest detail. By mid-afternoon, you found yourself standing in the grand foyer of Satoru’s mansion once again, this time with all your worldly possessions.

Haru, wide-eyed and excited, clung to your side, her tiny fingers wrapped around your hand.

"Welcome to your new home," Satoru says with a grin.

It felt more like stepping into a palace than a home.

He reaches down and grabs one of your suitcases, lifting it effortlessly,

"Let me show you to our room."

You feel your face heat up instantly.

"Our room?" you stammer. "Why would we need to share a room when no one is here to watch this charade?"

Satoru's grin widens, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

"Relax, I'm just teasing you. You have your own room. I just wanted to see your reaction."

You shoot him a glare, feeling a mix of relief and annoyance.

“You're impossible," you mutter, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.

He chuckles, leading you up the grand staircase, and Haru follows closely, her eyes darting around in awe at the luxurious decor. The polished marble steps feel cool underneath you, and the ornate banisters gleam under the soft lighting.

"Come on, let me show you around." Satoru says as he leads the way down a long corridor.

The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries and framed artwork, each piece more exquisite than the last.

Eventually, Satoru stops in front of a set of double doors, turning to you with a small, satisfied smile.

"Here we are."

He pushes them open to reveal a spacious bedroom. The room beautifully furnished, with a large bed, elegant drapes, and a balcony overlooking the manicured gardens below.

"This is your room," he announces, setting your suitcase down gently.

"Wow," you breathe.

It feels a bit overwhelming the moment you step foot inside. Haru, on the other hand, darts past you, exploring every nook and cranny with a delighted giggle. It was easily twice the size of your old apartment.

"This is beautiful... and a lot."

Satoru leans against the doorframe, arms casually crossing over his chest.

The soft light from the chandelier above casts a gentle glow on his features, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the curve of his lips. His white hair, tousled just enough to seem effortlessly stylish, frames his face perfectly.

"Only the best for my... business partner," he says, tone light yet carrying a hint of something deeper.

You offer a simple, "Thanks," but your voice is softer than you intended. Your eyes betray you, lingering on him for a moment longer than necessary.

Satoru's eyes hold yours with a softness that catches you off guard—a striking shade of blue that seems almost ethereal. In that moment, you couldn't help but notice the intensity and warmth in his gaze, it’s almost tender, making you feel like anything but just a ‘business partner’.

Was he always this beautiful?

You can’t help but wonder, feeling a warmth spread through you as the silence stretches on. The moment feels strangely intimate, a connection forming that neither of you expected.

Crap. What are you thinking?

Haru’s giggle breaks the spell as she jumps on your bed.

"Oh, and just so you know," he adds with a playful glint in his eye, "my room is right next door. We share the bathroom, so try not to hog all the hot water."

You blink, surprised. "We have to share a bathroom?"

Curiosity getting the better of you, you open the bathroom door and peer inside.

It was equally impressive, with a large tub and walk-in shower, all in pristine condition. The fixtures gleam, and the marble countertop adds a touch of luxury. There was another door leading directly to Satoru’s room, a constant reminder of his proximity.

"Yep. Just think of it as our first test of marital bliss. Can we survive sharing a bathroom?" Satoru's voice was suddenly closer.

You turn to find him standing right behind you, having moved from his previous spot at the doorframe. The idea of sharing such a personal space with him was a bit unnerving. An awkwardly intimate setup for such a detached relationship, but you didn't have much of a choice.

"…I suppose I'll manage.”

Satoru laughs softly.

"That's the spirit. And don't worry, Haru's room is right across from us. She's got the best room in the house actually," he adds, tilting his head to the side as a cue for you to follow him.

Haru trails excitedly behind as you walk through the luxurious hallway, her giggles echo off the walls. Opening the door, you peek inside and are struck by the sheer extravagance of it.

The room was a child’s dream—decorated in soft pastel colors, with a canopy bed draped in delicate lace, plush toys neatly arranged on shelves, and even a small play area complete with a dollhouse and a set of building blocks. The walls were adorned with whimsical murals of fairies and woodland creatures, creating a magical atmosphere that seemed straight out of a storybook.

Haru's delighted squeals bring a smile to your face, easing the last of your worries.

It was clear that Satoru had spared no expense in making her feel welcome. Each detail spoke of thoughtfulness and care, from the cozy reading nook to the vibrant rainbow-colored rug that added a playful touch to the room. How on earth did he pull all this off so quickly?

“Wow, look, Mama!” she exclaims, her eyes lighting up with joy, running inside to inspect her new haven.

A sense of relief washes over you as a tender smile forms upon your lips. At least Haru would be happy here. The sight of her so animated and cheerful makes the transition a bit easier to bear. Satoru stands beside you.

“I wanted her to feel at home," he says softly, eyes reflecting a rare sincerity.

“You've done more than that. She's ecstatic," you reply, watching Haru dive into a pile of stuffed animals with a gleeful laugh.

Satoru clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck, the gesture uncharacteristically awkward. He glances at the clock on the wall, as if searching for an excuse to end the moment.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," his tone is gentle and almost hesitant. "Let me know if you need anything. Dinner will be ready soon, see you down there?”

His usual confidence is somewhat muted—you wonder, is it you? Haru?

"Yeah,” you nod, “I’m going to put a few of my things away and then we’ll meet you downstairs."

“Right. Take your time. There's no rush."

You can’t help but replay the interaction in your mind as you unpack the essentials from your suitcase. The awkwardness between you and Satoru would pass, you hope. For now, it was enough to know that Haru is happy and safe.

Haru’s laughter echoes from her room, a sound that brings a smile to your face. She seemed to be adjusting much faster than expected, her innocent joy undiminished by the upheaval.

And to you, her laughter solidified it—marrying Satoru, this was the right call.

ꨄ︎

The past few days living with Satoru had been a whirlwind of adjustments—it wasn’t without its challenges. The mansion, with its sprawling rooms and luxurious decor, is more like a museum than a home.

The sheer size makes you feel small and out of place at times, and the constant presence of staff make it difficult to find a moment of privacy.

Satoru, however, had been surprisingly considerate. He’s a constant reminder of the delicate balance you need to maintain—attentive yet reserved, playful yet serious, a paradox that kept you on edge.

Your interactions with Satoru had settled into a routine of polite, if somewhat distant, cohabitation. There were moments of unexpected tenderness, like when he had found you struggling to open a jar in the kitchen and had stepped in to help with a playful grin.

Another time, you had been overwhelmed while trying to assemble a new toy for Haru, and Satoru had quietly taken a seat beside you, helping to figure out the instructions without a word.

Yet despite these moments, there was always an underlying tension, a reminder of the unusual circumstances that had brought you together.

As the days passed, the impending charity gala loomed larger in your mind—the first public event you would attend together as a married couple.

Satoru had taken the time to sit down with you and discuss how you would present yourselves, a task that seemed daunting but necessary.

You agreed on the basics: stay close, exchange subtle touches, and share occasional whispers to create an air of intimacy. The plan was straightforward, but the execution would be another matter entirely.

He emphasized the importance of appearing united, offering tips on how to handle the media and the probing questions that were sure to come. His confidence and ease in handling the media was something you were learning to lean on, though the pressure of maintaining the charade weighed heavily on you.

“What about Haru?” you asked, concern evident in your voice.

“We’ll leave her out of the spotlight,” Satoru replied gently. “I don’t want to overwhelm her. She takes no part in this agreement beyond being your daughter. She’ll stay here with the nanny during the event.”

Amidst all this, your phone had been buzzing constantly with missed calls from Naoya. You hadn't answered any of them—maybe you should just call off the court case?

You did just go through a life changing event, marriage, and that often interferes with the legal process anyways. The judge would need to take into consideration your new source of income for the child support payments.

Honestly, you don’t need Naoya’s support anymore.

You’ll take care of that after the gala though—right now you already have too much on your plate, spending hours with Satoru, fabricating shared experiences and finding common ground to make your relationship believable.

The task of memorizing details about his likes and dislikes, his habits, and his quirks was daunting, but you found yourself surprised at the small details you were beginning to remember about him—the way he took his coffee, his favorite late-night snack, the way his eyes crinkled just slightly when he found something genuinely funny, or how he would absentmindedly run a hand through his tousled white hair when deep in thought.

As the days slipped by in a blur of preparations and rehearsed smiles, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this carefully constructed façade was starting to take on a life of its own. Each shared glance and each moment of unexpected kindness blurred the lines between reality and pretense, leaving you wondering just how deep this charade would go.

ꨄ︎

Standing in front of your bathroom mirror, you adjust the luxurious dress Satoru had picked out for you. A deep, elegant blue fabric clings to your curves in all the right places, and the V-shaped open back that rests above your hips adds a touch of allure.

Loose cascading waves frame your face perfectly, and the professional makeup artist gave you a look that is both subtle and glamorous, enhancing your features in a way the felt natural yet striking.

You barely recognize yourself.

The transformation was astonishing, turning you from a frazzled single mother into a vision of sophistication and grace.

Was it too much? You feel out of sorts, like you’re wearing someone else's skin. The elegant image in the mirror is both thrilling and unnerving.

As you try to steady your racing heart, a knock on the bathroom door makes you jump slightly—Satoru’s door.

“Y/n you ready?” his voice calls out.

With a deep breath, you take one last look in the mirror. As you open the door, Satoru’s frame leans casually against the entryway.

The sleek black tuxedo he is adorned in highlights his broad shoulder and lean frame. His white hair is perfectly styled, contrasting sharply with the dark fabric.

He meets you with a stunned silence—eyes widening slightly as he takes you in. The cool blue of his irises seem more vibrant, gleaming with anticipation as they trace over your form.

You had never seen his eyes linger across your figure like this before—the intensity of his gaze makes your stomach flutter. Feeling a bit self-conscious, you fear what will come out of his mouth.

Does he think it’s too much?

“Wow,” he breathes, voice almost reverent. “You look... stunning.”

A blush creeps up your cheeks at his unexpected compliment, and you find yourself unable to meet his gaze.

"Thank you," you say softly, smoothing down the fabric of your dress.

Satoru steps closer, eyes locked on you. He reaches out and gently lifts your chin, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

“Seriously, you look amazing. I knew the dress would look good on you, but this... you’re going to be the star of the gala,” a slow smile spreads across his lips. “Ready to knock them dead?”

You nod, trying to ignore the fluttering sensation in your stomach.

“As ready as I’ll ever be…hopefully I can live up to the part.”

“You will,” offering you his arm, he adds, “Just be yourself, and stay by my side, we’re in this together."

ꨄ︎

The ride to the gala is filled with a comfortable silence.

The city lights blur outside the window as the car smoothly navigates through the streets. You find yourself stealing glances at Satoru, admiring the way his profile looks in the dim light.

Strange.

The usually insufferable man seemed different tonight—steadfast, dependable, almost... comforting? Perhaps it’s the nerves.

His arm rests casually behind you, fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder, and you’re surprised yourself how it does not bother you—in fact, it’s actually quite soothing.

Once you arrive, the grand ballroom is a stunning sight. Chandeliers hang from the high ceiling, casting a soft, golden glow over the elegantly dressed crowd.

The room is filled with the city’s elite—a sea of luxurious gowns and tailored suits mingling and exchanging pleasantries. The sight of you and Satoru together was enough to turn heads, drawing curious and admiring glances.

But the sheer number of people, the pressure of playing your part, and the countless eyes watching your every move—it’s all a bit overwhelming. You really felt out of place here.

Sensing your unease, Satoru leans in close, breath warm against your ear.

“Remember, just follow my lead.”

Guiding you with ease, his hand rests lightly on the small of your back as you voyage through the attendees—the warm gentle touch is electric against your bare skin.

Your eyes skim through the herd of people and land on a waiter balancing a tray of champagne glasses. Perhaps a drink would ease your nerves? You don’t hesitate to grab a glass as you navigate the crowd.

Satoru, ever the socialite, seamlessly traverses the room, introducing you to important figures and engaging in small talk that you struggle to follow.

Discussions ranged from market trends and corporate mergers, to the latest charity galas and art exhibitions. Trying to keep up, you nod and smile at the appropriate moments.

It’s clear that Satoru is in his element—his charm, effortless. You find yourself admiring how easy he makes it all look.

As you cling to him, the pride in his eyes when he looks at you makes you feel like you belong, even if you are just playing a part in this elaborate charade.

The evening flowed smoothly enough, with your glass of champagne acting as a steady companion. The warmth of the alcohol helps you mingle with guests, exchange polite conversations, and stay close to Satoru, all as planned. But each interaction was a delicate dance—your smiles and nods masking the nerves simmering beneath the surface.

Honestly, your mind was elsewhere—there is an undercurrent of anxiety as you anticipate Satoru’s announcement on stage, where he would publicly acknowledge your marriage during his donation speech.

When the moment you had been dreading finally arrives, you settle into a chair near the front, heart pounding in your chest.

Satoru takes the stage with a natural grace, and as the spotlight illuminates his striking figure, his presence commands the attention of everyone in the room.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he begins, his voice resonating with a confident authority. “I want to thank you all for being here tonight. Your generosity and support make events like this possible.”

His words flow smoothly as he speaks eloquently about the cause and significance of the charity, each sentence perfectly crafted to engage and inspire—you marveled at his ability to enthrall people.

Pressing your champagne glass to your lips, you desperately hope the cool liquid can help to steady your nerves a bit more.

Then, the moment came.

“I will be donating ten million dollars to this charity,” Satoru announces, his voice carrying a conviction.

The amount causes a ripple of excitement and murmurs to spread through the crowd—you nearly choked on your champagne in shock.

Ten million?

You couldn’t even fathom having that much money, let alone donating it. The magnitude of Satoru’s status is staggering.

A smile tugs at Satoru’s lips—a genuine warmth mingling with the mischievous glint in his eyes. He pauses, letting the impact of his words settle, then lifts a finger to tap his chin contemplatively, as if he just remembered something.

“Or should I say, we will be donating—me and my lovely wife.”

Satoru gestures in your direction as a spotlight beams upon you. The crowd erupts into an enthusiastic applause, causing your heart to race the moment all eyes instantly turn to you.

There is a rush of heat that rises to your cheeks, mixing with the warmth of the alcohol. The weight of the crowd’s gaze makes your vision a bit blurry.

Beckoning you to join him on stage, Satoru extends his hand and offers a comforting smile. Though, the moment you stand, the room spins slightly—perhaps it’s from the champagne, or perhaps it’s the sheer pressure.

You can’t fuck this up.

With as much grace as you can muster, you make your way to the platform.

Satoru wraps an arm around your waist the moment you are at his side, pulling you close and steadying your trembling figure. He looks down into your eyes with a genuine look of endearment.

“Everyone, please welcome my beautiful wife, y/n,” he says softly in the microphone, his voice filled with a gentle pride.

The applause swells, and you manage a smile, trying to focus on Satoru while ignoring the spotlight’s heat and the intense gazes of attendees.

Leaning in, his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “You’re doing great.”

Despite the orchestrated nature of your relationship, in this moment, his genuine reassurance means everything. His presence is a steady anchor in the sea of faces and flashing cameras, the only thing holding you together right now.

When the applause dies down, Satoru continues his speech, the warmth of his hand remaining on your waist as his thumb traces soft circles.

You can barely focus on his words, the dizzying reality of where you’re standing feels both exhilarating and terrifying.

The moment Satoru’s speech concludes, the soft hum of conversation mingling and the delicate notes of the live orchestra begin to fill the air yet again. Satoru leads you off the stage, his hand never leaving your side.

Almost immediately after you descend to the floor, Satoru is approached by a business associate, his demeanor shifting effortlessly into that of a seasoned negotiator as they exchange discussions of market trends, potential collaborations, and strategic ventures.

Your heart is still pounding—public speaking was never your strong suit. Despite not needing to speak, being on that stage stirred something within you.

You recall a particularly disastrous presentation in college where you accidentally knocked over the projector, sending your notes flying across the room. The laughter from the audience still haunts you, and since then, you’ve always dreaded being the center of attention.

With Satoru engrossed in conversation, you seize the opportunity to make your way to the bar—seeking a moment of reprieve. Another drink wouldn’t hurt, right?

The gleaming rows of crystal glasses and various bottles of wine and spirits catch your eye. You scan the selection, your gaze lingering on a particularly rich, deep red wine.

Deciding it’s exactly what you need to steady your nerves, you signal the bartender and opt for a glass of the robust vintage, savoring the thought of its smooth, calming flavor.

One glass turned into two—your nerves finally beginning to settle as the soothing effects of the alcohol take over your senses.

Realizing you’ve been away from Satoru for quite some time, you prepare to rejoin him—but just as you start to rise, a familiar, unwelcome voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Well, well, look who we have here,” Naoya sneers, leaning against the bar beside you, a glass of scotch swirling in his hand. “Didn’t expect to see you here, mingling with the high society.”

A chill runs down your spine and you heart drops. No amount of alcohol could have prepared you for this moment.

“Naoya,” you stiffen, clutching your wine glass tighter. “What are you doing here?”

He takes a swig of his scotch, emptying the glass and placing it down on the counter with a loud clink. Leaning closer into your space, his eyes narrow—a cold, cynical stare boring into you.

“I could ask you the same thing. This doesn’t seem like your usual scene. What’s your angle?”

Your breath quickens and you feel your pulse hammering in your chest. Adverting your gaze, your fingers brush against the rim of your wine glass.

“I’m sure you heard, I’m here with my husband, if you must know. Not that it’s any of your business.”

The sneer he meets you with makes the room suddenly feel smaller, as if his presence is suffocating you.

“Husband, huh?” his eyes rake over you with contempt suspicion, “Quite the leap from where you were a few weeks ago. Is this some kind of game to you?”

Summoning your courage, you straighten your back and meet his gaze head-on.

“Not a game, Naoya. It’s called moving on. You should try it sometime. My life is no longer any of your concern.”

Taking a step closer, he looms over you—his voice lowering to a menacing whisper.

“I don’t buy it. This whole charade… you think I don’t know what you’re trying to pull?”

For a moment, you are frozen in place, the fear and control Naoya exerts paralyzing you. Your mind races, the implications of his words sinking in.

What if he exposes you?

What if this carefully constructed facade comes crashing down?

Before you can respond, you feel an arm slip around your waist, pulling you with practiced ease out of Naoya’s bubble and right beside Satoru.

“There you are, darling. Everything alright?”

His voice is smooth and warm, and his gaze flicks between you and Naoya, narrowing as he surveys the situation. The look on your face unsettles him—something feels off.

Naoya straightens himself, leaning against the bar with a supercilious smirk as he crosses his arms.

“Just catching up with an old friend. No harm in that, right?”

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” Satoru’s tone was light but laced with an underlying steel, “I’m y/n’s husband, Satoru Gojo.”

A scoff escapes Naoya as his eyes flash with irritation, but an unnerving smile remains upon his lips.

“Yes, I’ve heard. You certainly move fast, don’t you, y/n?”

Naoya can see right through you—you fell a flash of panic. Turning to Satoru, your eyes meet his with a silent plea for support. His expression softens and he gives you a reassuring nod while tightening his grip upon your waist.

“Well, when you know, you know,” Satoru says with a charming smile, “and we knew.”

Naoya snickers, running his hand through his hair in disbelief.

“Come on y/n. How did someone like you end up with someone like him? Seems... unlikely. You don’t belong here.”

Heat rises to your face and the sudden urge to shrink away overwhelms you—your heart dropping at the sting of Naoya’s words.

Suddenly, Satoru steps closer, creating a protective barrier between you and Naoya—the playful glint in his eyes gone, replaced with a cold, steely determination.

“Watch your mouth, you don’t get to talk to my wife like that.”

“I’m just stating the obvious,” Naoya shrugs, meeting Satoru’s glare with an indifference as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “She’s out of her league here.”

Satoru’s jaw tightens, his voice low and dangerously calm.

“If you think she’s out of her league, then you clearly don’t know her at all. You’re out of line. Y/n belongs here more than anyone. So, unless you have something worthwhile to say, I suggest you move along.”

“Is that so?” Naoya raises an eyebrow. “You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical. After all, you’ve always been a bit of a lone wolf, Satoru Gojo.”

Panic seizes you as Naoya’s observation hangs in the air. The last thing you need is for him to start spreading rumors or causing trouble. You realize you have to do something, and fast. Your mind races, desperately searching for a way to convince Naoya of your authenticity.

Summoning all the courage you can muster, you step forward, threading your arms around Satoru’s neck as you rest your forehead against his own. Your words are addressed to Naoya, but your eyes remain on Satoru the entire time, drawing strength from his steady gaze and the warmth of his touch.

“Satoru and I... we chose each other for reasons that go beyond what you see. We may have our differences, but we’re stronger together, and we have a connection that you can’t comprehend.”

Satoru’s eyes soften, reflecting a silent understanding and a shared resolve—his breath mingling with yours.

Feeling Naoya’s probing gaze, you know he won’t be easily convinced, and so, acting on impulse, you pull Satoru closer and crash your lips against his.

For a moment, Satoru seemed caught off guard. His eyes widened in surprise before they fluttered closed, his hands moving to rest on your hips. The world around you seemed to fade away as the kiss lingered, heat pooling in your stomach.

It was supposed to be a quick peck, just enough to sell the act. But the moment your lips met his, something shifted.

Perhaps you were emboldened by the alcohol, perhaps it was the need to be convincing, perhaps it was the way Satoru stood up for you—without thinking, you deepen the kiss, parting your lips and slipping your tongue into his mouth, making things more intimate than you originally intended.

You can feel Satoru tense for a moment, his surprise evident. But then, with a soft hum against your mouth he melts into the kiss, a hand moving to cup your face as he returns the intimacy with unexpected fervor—his other hand encircling around your waist, pulling you closer against him.

Your fingers thread through Satoru’s hair and the world around you seems to fade away—the only thing that mattered now was the heat radiating off of Satoru’s body, the warmth of his lips against yours, and the lingering sweet taste of the gala’s chocolate cake mingling with the wine on your tongue.

It was a moment that felt both incredibly real and utterly surreal.

When you finally pull back, you are both breathless. As you catch a flicker of something unreadable in Satoru’s half lidded eyes, for a brief moment, you forget about Naoya completely, about the act, about everything except the electric connection between you both.

Satoru's thumb gently caresses your cheek, his gaze softening.

Pulling yourself back to reality, you peer over to Naoya—his smug expression had vanished, replaced by a look of genuine surprise and irritation.

“As you can see, we’re very happy together,” you say sweetly, rubbing your nose against Satoru’s.

"Didn't think you were the type to move on so quickly," Naoya sneers.

A wave of exhilaration and embarrassment course through you as Naoya retreats back into the crowd. The kiss had done its job, but it had also left you with a lingering sense of uncertainty. Satoru’s touch is still warm on your skin—you can still taste him on your lips.

"You okay?" he asks softly, his concern genuine.

The question pulls you out of your thoughts, but his gaze does the opposite—your face flushes and it feels like your heart is going to pound out of your chest.

"Yeah. I... I just needed to convince him.."

Satoru studies you momentarily—knowing there is more to the story with Naoya. But he also knows now isn’t the time to pry.

He chuckles softly, his hand lingering on your waist.

“Well, I think you succeeded. That was... unexpected. You really went for it there,” he murmurs.

For a moment, it felt like you were playing a role, but the feelings stirring inside you were anything but fake.

"I'm sorry," you swallow hard, face flushing with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to..."

“I didn’t mind,” he interjects, thumb brushing against your lower lip, sending a shiver down your spine. “Just so you know, you did great. Better than I expected,” his voice low and husky.

Fuck.

You blink—Naoya is gone, but here Satoru is, still holding you so intimately, so intently.

The way he looks at you, the warmth in his touch, the tone of his voice—it makes you question the lines between reality and pretense.

“Didn’t know you had it in you.” Satoru hums, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. He leans in, his breath dancing on your lips, tantalizingly close. “But next time, let’s save the tongue for when we’re really alone, hm?”

What is he saying?

Your mind races, trying to decipher his words, his intentions. Was he still in character, or was there a hint of genuine desire in his eyes?

The electricity in the air was undeniable, and you find yourself lost in the intensity of his gaze—the crowd around you fading, their murmurs and whispers becoming a distant hum.

Satoru’s eyes held secrets you were desperate to uncover.

As you struggle to formulate your thoughts, Satoru’s hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb tracing a soft line along you jaw.

"Relax," he murmurs, "We're just putting on a show, remember?"

You nod, though your heart betrays you with its rapid pace.

“Right,” you whisper, forcing a smile. “Just a show.”

But deep down, you can’t shake the feeling that there was more to this act than either of you were willing to admit.

ahh i really enjoyed writing this chapter. okay, i was snickering at satoru's internal turmoil when he met haru for the first time. i couldn't resist with the digimon 🤭 my daughter is currently obsessed with pikachu so that's where that inspiration came from lol. also, this kiss was one of my favs to write 🥰 lemme know if you guys are interested in me making this a longer series. as always, thanks for reading 🫶🏻 → on to the next chapter ꨄ

taglist :

@geniejunn @fortunatelyfurrygiver @rosso-seta @acowboykisser @mikyapixie

@shokosbunny @fire-child-kira @aluvrina @laviefantasie @kurookinnie

@poopypipi @painted-hills @stillserene @mira-lol @k-kkiana

@sebastianlover @blueberrysungie @kalulakunundrum @doireallyhavetonamthis @lingophilospher

@ichikanu @artist1936 @christianacj27 @watermelon-online @jkbangtan7

@angelina7890 @aruraa @han11dh @jonesmelodys

@a-trashbag @jotarohat @khaleesihavilliard @tsukistopglazer

@stevenknightmarc @maskedpacific @that-redheadd @lovelyartemisa @eolivy

@alwaysfreakingout @valleydoli @voids-universe @sukunadckrider @aishies-stuff

@saccharine-nectarine @ilianasau @pinksaiyans @evalynanne @tbzzluvr

@k1ttybean @yu22tas @sanriosatoru @ophelias-flowerss @spookysoowpprince

@luciledreamz @fortunatelyfurrygiver @meowforluv @arishaxml @zetianzz

@itzmeme @whodissbitj @kenmacantakemeaway @satoryaa

@kidd3ath @princessnai

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ghost-recs · 6 months

Text

Sakusa Timeskip Recs

this is for you lovely @dontmindtheevie. thank you for your support and patience pookie!

the video call incident by @reverie-starlight

synopsis: you and sakusa enjoyed the secrecy of your relationship. after all, you both didn't want to imagine what would happen if the terrible three ever found out.

oneshot filled with humor, insults, and fluff. it made me unattractively cackle a couple times.

no secretes here by bunnytime [ao3]

synopsis: sakusa's teammates like to think they all know each other pretty well. how could they not know that sakusa was in a relationship? let alone married??

this mini series is so cute! pure fluff and msby chaos!

mine by @taeyamayang

synopsis: you always loved watching sakusa's games and supporting him. however, you didn't love what sakusa had set up for you.

oneshot, maybe a little ooc? but so adorable.

untitled oneshot by @chosobaby

synopsis: there's just one aspect of volleyball that sakusa does not enjoy...

lil "what if" scenario that i just love to think about!

specially made by @luvring

synopsis: you swear sakusa does not understand the point of a surprise. but you're not complaining.

dating pro-player sakusa scenario. just pure fluff

another untitled oneshot by @omi-boshi

synopsis: sakusa does not like answering his phone when he's on break. however, when it's you calling, curiosity gets the better of him.

reader just being a thorn in sakusa's side, but he's too down bad for you to complain.

Fresh Linens by emilyisfictional [ao3]

synopsis: your boyfriend is gone way too often, the only option is to steal his hoodies and sweaters. you hate that he washes them so often.

agh just more fluff and sakusa boyfriend scenarios that leave me melting

Drawing Our Moments by EdenxWrites [ao3]

synopsis: sakusa recalls the days he fell in love with you.

not entirely post-timeskip. has some flashbacks to high school but present day is set after high school. this oneshot caught me off guard.

hello, neighbor by @demxnscous

synopsis: you gain a new neighbor and he seems...interesting enough. well, his friend is definitely a character.

a meet-ugly oneshot that i wish had more parts...but ig that's what my imagination is for.

i also want to bring some attention to this fic: change of heart by heartcondemned [ao3]

i haven't finished reading it yet, but i'm really enjoying it. i also hesitate to rec it because it is unfinished and doesn't look like it will be... but give it a try if you're cool with that!

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famwhy · 1 year

Text

Bereavement

noun

/bɪˈriːv.mənt/ The state one is in when losing someone important to them

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

42! Miles X F!Reader, 1610! Miles X F!Reader

Synopsis: Miles is missing, and all you can think about is getting him back. Upon finally finding him, however, you're taken aback by the copy that stands beside him—the same copy that was staring at you with wide, shaking eyes full of... disbelief?

Note: this one's for my cousin. The idea actually came to me while I was rewatching the first spiderverse lmao. Who knew Kingpin was such a source of ideas?

part two.

You saw it—on the control panel—42. Miles had been transported to Earth 42.

You belonged to 1610; which meant that Miles also belonged to 1610.

He was in the wrong universe.

Your best friend was stranded in the wrong universe.

Now, if you were a rational person, you would've called for back-up—maybe even gotten Hobie's help like Gwen had. But you weren't a rational person—and could anyone blame you?—your best friend was probably in danger, of course you would act without thinking.

The watch wasn't hard to swipe, everyone was too caught up in what had just happened with Miles to care for guarding their little 'goober' dimension devices. Tracking him down wasn't terribly difficult either, not after you knew which world he went to.

All you really needed to think about was where exactly you had to open the portal—but luckily for you, Margo was willing to help.

"You owe me for this, by the way." Her head tilted your way, lids narrowed in a sassy look you dismissed with a wave of your hand.

"Yeah, okay, what're his coordinates?"

With a roll of her eyes—that you very much thought was quite rude—she gave you just what you needed; his exact coordinates.

The assortment of colours and geometric shapes appeared before you with a few taps of your finger against the cold device, flitting across the room in a bright blur of pure chaos that hurt your eyes to look at—

—but you would endure it; if only for Miles' sake.

"This is stupid, by the way—" you turned, facing the girl who insisted on making a snide comment every five seconds, "—you're not even a spiderperson."

"Says the girl who's speaking to me through a VR headset and isn't actually here right now," you growled.

"Careful, I can shut this whole thing down right now and tell Miguel what you're planning," she returned your apprehension with crossed arms, brows furrowing even further.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you sighed, "it's just— I'm worried about him. Please don't tell Miguel. Miles has saved me so many times, it's time I save him for once."

You assumed you must've looked rather pitiful for her features to have softened up, arms falling limp by her side as she, too, gave a sigh; though hers sounded like it stemmed from a different type of exasperation to yours.

"Just... go. Before I change my mind—preferably."

You gave her the brightest smile you could muster, hoping to god she could see all the appreciation in it—and there was a lot—before turning back around to take a step into the portal.

"Miles! I'm here to—"

As soon as you walked through, you were met with a dark room—though, that wasn't what caught your attention. Instead, your wide eyes landed on that familiar hanging bag, beat down and bits of its material flaked off.

Chained up to it, was your very own, Miles Morales. And stood directly opposite to him was... also Miles Morales?

Alright, you were aware of this whole 'spiderverse' thing but you didn't think it would be this trippy.

"...save you?"

They were both staring directly at you, however, the expressions situated on their faces were vastly different.

Miles—your Miles—had his eyes blown wide, shaky pupils not leaving your form for a second, even as he started frantically shaking his head from left to right, he still remained in eye-contact with you.

The other Miles also had his eyes blown wide. This time, however, it wasn't in warning—no—his pupils were dilated and his form stood rigid; still as a statue.

"Cariño..." he whispered; so much breath in his voice, it barely sounded like words were coming out.

"Y/N! You have to get out of here!" Your Miles yelled, pulling at his chains as though it would get him any closer to you.

You scoffed. "And leave you? I don't think so."

"Don't worry about me! You have to—"

"Cariño."

You blinked, casting your gaze back over to the other Miles—who now stood much closer to you than before. He was just an arm's length away, in fact, how did you not notice him approach you?

"Mi vida, oh Y/N..." his voice was soft as he spoke—quiet and coated in an emotion you were unfamiliar with—hand moving up to your cheek to gently trace a cold, steel claw over it.

"Hey!" The sound of metal chains clicking grew more frantic from behind him. "Stay away from her! Don't you dare hurt her!"

Either the Miles in front of you was ignoring your friend on purpose, or he genuinely didn't hear him, because he continued to do as he was doing—continued to give you shivers from the icy material against your cheek.

Then, all too suddenly, he flew into your torso, engulfing you in a hug so tight—so inextricably emotional—you stumbled back a little from the sheer intensity of it all.

"You're alive..." he breathed out—and it was then that you finally understood what the tone of his voice was. "You're really, truly alive. Oh mi cariño, I've missed you so much."

"Wha—?"

"Lo siento... lo siento." He buried his face into the crook of your neck and the surface of your skin slowly grew wet, your collar soaking up. "I didn't get there in time, I couldn't save you."

You and your Miles shared a glance.

You saw your reflection in his eyes; the look of shock on his face; the scenes that flashed through his pupils. You saw a fear in him, one unlike anything you had ever seen before.

You saw your near-death experience replay right before him.

"Te quiero—" the other Miles—the one holding you—grounded you once more with his words as he pulled away just enough to look you in the eyes and continue, "—you know that, right? I'm so sorry for not saying it before. If you hadn't— if you never— I'm so sorry."

The phrase shocked you, sending an electric pulse down your spine and rendering you utterly immobile.

"I always have. For the longest time. It's always been you. It's always—only—ever been you."

If what he was saying was true... then—?

"Y/N!"

Suddenly, the metal against your hips was replaced by the familiar silky material you were used to; the one worn by your Miles.

"Miles," you breathed out, looking all around you to see the shattered glass that flew in the wind—scattering in all different directions as the warmth of the inside abandoned you.

"I'm gonna need you to hold on, okay?"

You nodded.

Then, you glanced behind him, catching sight of the familiar geometric mask of the Prowler—sharp claws out—coming in hot and fast and furious.

"Miles—!"

"I know, mami, I know. I need you to trust me for a minute, alright? You know I'll never let you get hurt."

You nodded once more, nails digging into his dark suit as you buried your face directly into his chest. You felt yourself flow through the air, swiftly moving as the wind worked against you, pushing back on your hair as though you were its worst enemy.

It was nice. It was fun. It was... bound to go wrong.

One moment, you were safe, all coddled up in Miles' arms as he swung through the sky—the next?—

—you were falling.

"Y/N!"

(Note: I feel like I need to address this because some people seem to be misunderstanding what I'm doing with Margo.

First of all, Margo is not AT ALL being mean in Bereavement. The whole of that fic is written in the Reader's perspective (and I'll prolly end up writing something in both Miles' perspective too) - this makes her an unreliable narrator so you can't trust the way the story is being told to you is 100% accurate to the true events.

At the start, the Reader is frustrated because she knows her best friend is stranded on another universe - this makes her unfairly take out her frustration on Margo when she thinks lines like 'who always seemed to have to say something every five seconds' (paraphrased).

Margo thus responds accordingly (as she should) and although she threatens to tell Miguel, she never actually would because she is legit one of the only real ones in the movie. So no, to those commenters that were accusing me of making her 'aggressive' cuz she was black - that is not what I'm doing at all. I am writing the Reader's perspective after just having lost her best friend.

Margo is the only one helping. She is literally being kind to the Reader. If anything, the Reader is the one being rude to her but again, that's because her best friend is missing which isn't an excuse but definitely an explanation.)

#miles morales #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #female reader #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles #42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 #miles morales prowler #earth 42 miles morales

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lina-lovebug · 8 months

Text

I'd Fight The Devil

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Background: (Y/N) Morningstar with her partner, Alastor, has decided to put some of the Overlords in their place.

Warning: Alastor being Alastor, mentions of pregnancy but no one's pregnant, and Alastor might have a breeding kink

_ _ _

"(Y/N)! What a surpri-!"

"I believe that's Princess (Y/N) Morningstar, Heir to the throne of Hell, and Duchess of Chaos - to you," Alastor loved doing this. He adored how (Y/N) had decided to start using her true power, and to bring respect back to her name.

The family name, to be exact.

Valentino chuckled nervously as (Y/N) scoped out the place, her horns ever presenting and tail flicking with annoyance.

"What a pleasure to be hosting you, Princess. What would be the reason for this visit?" Valentino asked, offering her a drink.

"I'm fine, thank you," She dismissed it, already smelling the poison inside the cocktail.

"I'm here to discuss Angel Dust, and your contract with him."

"If he's too much trouble for the hotel, I'll happily-"

"You're the one causing the trouble," Alastor cut him off.

Valentino sputtered, "me?!"

"You can feign innocence all you wish, Val, but I've heard that you've called my sister a bimbo, along with many other colorful names," (Y/N) slowly stood up, leaning over his desk as the lights started to go out - one by one.

"Charlie is nice. She's always been the kinder of us Morningstars, but apparently this makes you think that you can go and soil our name. My father could have strung every sinner on a hook for eternity, torturing you all second by second as your screams sung into our great halls," no one had been unfortunate enough to see the form of (Y/N) Morningstar, and Val was one of them.

Her height expanded to nine feet tall, her pretty black nails forming into claws and her eyes ablaze with scarlet serpent pupils.

And wings - oh great black wings that could make even Adam rethink his attack.

When he was still alive, of course.

"And you sully his gift by mocking us."

"Look, Vox did it first! Okay?! He said you'd never-!" Val tripped on a tentacle that came from her beloved Alastor, who dropped a TV by his feet.

But not just any TV.

"Oh God," Val gasped, "Vox. . .?"

"I took care of him earlier," Alastor grinned, still reminiscent on his screams.

"I couldn't have my dear (Y/N) sully her hands with his filth. But whatever the Princess wants, she gets."

Oh to see her come into her power was as chilling as death itself.

"You're so romantic, Alastor," (Y/N) smiled.

That's when Valentino spotted it. On the left hand of (Y/N) Morningstar was a ruby wedding ring, the band pure gold.

Alastor finally did it.

He climbed up the latter, but not through power.

Well yes, through power, but he certified that it would always be his.

By marrying Lucifers daughter.

"We're matching, isn't it adorable?" Alastor showed off his own wedding band, ruby's encrusted inside of it.

"Now, where were we?" She grinned, and as an engagement gift, the screams of Vox and Valentino were broadcasted throughout all of Hell.

And they say chivalry is dead.

_ ☆ _

"They're fucking crazy."

"They're made for each other."

On that, Angel Dust and Husker could agree.

The lovely couple had become the center of Hells attention after their engagement was announced, and even though Alastor thought it would be hilarious for Lucifer to find out through the papers, she told him first.

And he cried.

"Oh my baby is all grown up!" Lucifer sobbed loudly, clinging onto her legs, "look at you! You-you used to be this small!" Lucifer grabbed a duck, "and you were so tiny and so cute!"

"Am I invited?" Lucifer squeaked, staring up into her eyes.

"Yes, dad," She smiled, bringing him up to his feet, "but we want to wait a bit before we plan anything."

"You know she used to bite my finger?!" Lucifer grabbed the baby pictures of little (Y/N), "look at how small she was! Oh, and this one is my favorite!"

Alastor truly didn't mind how touchy Lucifer had become with him, but thankfully, Lucifer also knew when to stop.

"Wait, is that why you're getting married?! Did you impregnate my daughter?!" Lucifer gasped, shoving his hand on her stomach.

"Dad! Dad, no! I'm not pregnant!" She quickly cleared up.

"Unfortunately," Alastor muttered to himself. Oh to see her belly swell with his children - his own spawn, it made his cock twitch at the thought.

He was fond of children but his own? Oh he'd spoil his little prince or princess with all the blood sacrifices the world had to offer.

"Yeah but you know what marriage entails, kiddo!" He pointed at them both with finger guns, "first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby-oh my GOD I'll be a grandpa!"

He started crying again.

She sighed, "at least we know our hypothetical child will be taken care of."

Alastor nodded, "I could not have picked a better father-in-law."

At this point, Lucifer was ugly crying.

Alastor looked at his beloved with a soft gaze as she tried calming her father down. To be honest, Alastor never thought he would ever find solace in Hell. He anticipated every day being a fight for his life, always looking over his shoulder and always striving for more power. And as cheesy as it sounded, he saw (Y/N) as his shining light. She brought out his sad heart, and for the first time in his life, he wished his mother was with him.

To see just what a wonderful woman he managed to catch.

#alastor imagine #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader

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couldeatthatgirlforlunch · 1 month

Note

OMG I have an idea

What if a villain hit reader with a love potion and the Yandere JL has to deal with reader being obsessed with one of them until it wears off🙏🙏😭(I LITERALLY LOVE YOUR YAN JL WORKDGHBJB)

A Day in Life: Love Pollen

Synopsis: A day in your life where you get hit with love pollen, get kidnapped, and are rescued by the Justice League.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader

Tw: 18+; PDA; Dry humping; Kinda public sex bc they're in a deserted island’s beach, so it's basically out in the open but no one’s around; Dubcon/noncon bc, you know, love-and-kinda-sex pollen; Also maybe drugging bc of that; Writer is the Justice League's weakness; Hal Jordan is a little shit; Needles; English is not my 1st language.

Word count: 2,1k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: I imagine the League’s marketing will have a hard time after this little stunt, I mean, there's no way no one caught that on camera

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

The Legion of Doom had a plan. They invaded a political event in Metropolis, with the presence of the Justice League as the president’s security team, the League being the target. First, Poison Ivy release pollen throughout the whole city, as a distraction, making people hallucinate that they were in love with one another. Crazy in love. It would be okay, if her experiment didn't cause chaos. All over the streets, some people were having sex out in the open, some were fighting and killing because of jealousy and cheating, some were committing robberies to give their “loved ones”. It was pure chaos and only the quick reflexes, powers and gadgets from the League spared the team from getting hit.

Half the team went to deal with the distraction, saving and restraining people, giving them the antidote, etc. The other half, took care of the villains. After a few hours, the Legion of Doom was taken down and the city’s security and health workers took over the job, the chaos being a lot easier to contain since they were spreading the antidote through the air, it would take at least an hour to spread it throughout the whole city, and then the ones who somehow weren't able to breath it, but mostly, just the mess left behind was the real issue.

You were standing with the rest of the crew on the event, watching the League and the politicians discoursing for the press and TV. When the mayhem started, for the first few seconds, you got startled and froze. Looking between the League, the scared crowd, and the villains invading the place. Suddenly, you breathed some thick smoke and your eyes shot to the heroes, silently urging them to do something, when your eyes locked on Green Lantern’s, the pollen’s effect kicked in. You got dizzy, something snapped, and then everything changed.

Wait, when did Green Lantern's jaw got so sharp? And his muscles so defined? Oh, and he was so big and tall. Did he do something to his hair? Wow, his ring is glowing now and he's flying. He's so cool and powerful. A true hero. Shit, he's coming in my direction. Hehe, he's using a construct to lift me and my coworkers to a safer place as if it was nothing. Imagine flying with him every day. How does he look without the mask? Ugh, must be perfect, if his jaw and lips were anything to go by. I can't even see the color of his eyes! And- and please stop looking me in the eyes and touching my shoulders and asking me if I'm okay, of course I am, I'm with you. No. Nooo. Come back here! Let the others deal with the bad guys, I'm right hereee! Nooooo!

You were depressed and deflated the whole time your soulmate was away. A team from outside the city arrived at some point and you were able to watch the fight — Normally, Lois Lane would do the transmission, but she's too busy making out with her cameraman, she was in the crowd too. —. You started crying watching your lover fighting with Sinestro. When he won, and everything was fine, was when you finally calmed down and just started anxiously waiting while ignoring your colleagues strange antics, one of them even hitting on you. Didn't she know you and Green Lantern were in love?

When the League was back, the paramedics were starting to give the crew the antidote, you were next in line, however, as soon as you saw the heroes, you broke into a sprint.

— Green! — You yelled, catching everyone off guard. Even more so when you jumped and hooked your legs around the brunette’s waist, your arms around his neck, and kissed him passionately.

Hal was so shocked that it took him two seconds to reciprocate the kiss, ignoring completely the gasps from his friends. You moaned against his lips, mumbling a jumbled mess of “I love you”, “I missed you”, “was so worried”, “so glad you're back”.

Someone groaned.

— Batman, just give them that damn antidote before I lose it. — Batman grunted and Hal struggled but managed to separate your faces for a moment. You tried to push your face towards his again, but he grabbed your jaw. You kept forcing your face against his hand and whining. It was really cute, and your willingness and the previous sensation of your lips ignited something in his belly, yet, he looked to the side just in time to see Batman preparing the needle, the rest of the League sulking on the side and glaring at him.

His mind worked rapidly, ignoring the texture of your soft lips pampering kisses against the skin of his hand. When he felt the tip of your tongue, he made a decision.

A bad one.

— Yeah. I don't think so. — Green Lantern conjured several chain constructs, chaining the League's arms and ankles to the ground. It wouldn't hold off the ones like Superman and Wonder Woman who were strong enough to break it, and Martian Manhunter who could just invade his mind or use his intangibility, Flash was also pretty capable of taking him on, but Hal was smart and sagacious. Still holding you, he made a rocket construct around you both and took off.

Really, a terrible idea.

Superman and Wonder Woman, in a cry of rage, broke the chains. Diana unsheathed her sword, her feet not even touching the ground anymore, flying, ready to go after the traitor. Martian passed through the construct, while Superman went to break Batman and Aquaman free, Flash vibrated fast to rearrange his particles and also escaped.

— We need a plan. — Batman’s voice stopped the amazon warrior from going in a hunt for blood. He was already stressing over what the marketing team could do to fix this.

— A plan? We can defeat the enemy and retreat my darling if we go now! — Wonder Woman barked.

— Green Lantern is impulsive. If we go now we can destroy the whole state and hurt (Y/N) in the process. He won't give them up easily.

— Batman's right. — Superman agreeds. — Flash, follow them and see where they’re going. — The speedster nodded and took off.

Barry shook his head, cursing his idiot best friend the whole way.

Between the whole team, Hal was clearly the only one who would be okay with you falsely loving them. The rest wanted something more genuine for you. Some of them would settle for you not loving them as much as they loved you, some wanted you to feel exactly the same amount of what they felt. Hal still loved you just like them, but he always had that certain level of insecurity that craved to be better than anyone, to impress, making everything a competition, and the sensation of being the only one to have you could certainly cloud his judgment and accept your love, even if fake. He just thought he could compensate by treating you the right way, and not just using that opportunity to do whatever he wanted with you, just because he could and you wouldn't complain. He could make this about you both, and not just about him.

Either way, every one of them (thought) they deserved their fair chance at winning you over.

— Manhunter, can you still read his mind and tell what he is thinking? — Manhunter nodded and his eyes started glowing, there was a second of silence before he spoke.

— It's getting weaker as he gets more distant. It's purely impulsive thinking. Green Lantern isn't considering the consequences and means no harm against Earth or us. — Batman nodds.

— That's a shame. I mean harm. — Wonder Woman mutters, Batman glared and Superman side-eyed her. Batman turned his communication on.

— Flash, tell us when they stop moving.

— If he touches them, I will personally kill him. — Aquaman darkly states. Superman took a step in his direction, facing him head on.

— No, you won't. — The two stared at one another intently, until Batman broke the silence.

— Focus. We don't have time for this. — The dark knight stated.

— We need to be collected and work as a team to act smoothly on our plan. — Martian reminds them. Wonder Woman steps down again and sheats her sword. They all form a circle and start planning.

The sky was never this blue and the sand never this warm and soft. Even with the warmth of the sun being so intense, you were laying on a palm tree's shadow, and the air was flowing just fine. What was actually making you sweat was the dry humping you and your soulmate were doing.

You don't remember ever getting so aroused in your whole life, and can't remember ever desiring someone so much. You could kill someone if they dared to try and steal him away from you.

Hal felt you carding your fingers through his hair and pull slightly, giving him shiver, and he squeezed the flesh of your hips. You moaned against his lips at a particularly stronger wave of pleasure. The clothes were a curse, stopping you from feeling the real him, so you desperately started clawing at his clothes. Green Lantern breathily chuckled.

— Relax, hot stuff, we have time… — He whispers with a smirk. The man held your hands and laid them on the ground, above your head. You just moaned, more needy, and pushed your hips against his, eliciting a hiss from his red and swollen lips.

His hands started unbottoning your shirt and freeing the fabric out of your pants. You kept your hands were they were and watched, eyes wide open, when he descended kisses from the middle of your chest, going south, only pausing at your waistband.

As much as you wanted to feel his mouth more, seeing him so covered and not being able to properly touch him was making you restless, so you sat up, surprising him, and started pulling up the fabric at the back of his neck. Hal chuckled and shook his head, humoring your needs. He helped you take it off, then pushed your own shirt down your arms, until it was off.

You paused, admiring his adonis body. Your heart raced and eyes watered, never having seen something so perfect your whole life. Even his scars were beautiful. His chest hair and happy trail looked really soft and somehow he looked even more muscled, strong and beautiful. You wonder why you rejected him before.

Hal Jordan basked in your amazed gaze, loving to show off, especially while doing nothing. He frowned weakly, and gave a reassuring grin when you pouted, slumped and frowned.

— What's this, sweetheart? I thought you were enjoying this. — To lift your mood, he started running his hands up and down your sides.

— I wanted to see your face… — Hal remained silent for a few seconds. They would tell you their identities eventually, and that fact kept being brought up on reunions. They all knew at some point, you would have to know, to really start a relationship, yet, Batman, and his paranoia, kept them all from telling you. Sometimes, it felt like a sabotage, but mostly, it made sense, since the guy had a bunch of kids, who could be in danger if the information somehow got leaked, still, you couldn't trust to let them in, if they didn't let you in. That was the only reason you didn't trust them, of course.

Also, a face was not a name. Hal wasn't famous, so how bad could it be? Especially if it would turn you on so much, and when you looked so damn cute. His own lust was also influencing his critical thinking, which was already second place to his impulsiveness.

Hal bit his lower lip and brought his face closer to yours, a few centimeters away from having your noses touching.

— Okay… Take it off… — You let out a happy squeal and reached up with both hands. Your heart pounded with anticipation, making you go slower to savor the intimacy even more. Hal closed his eyes when he felt the gentle tug, against his wishes to watch your eagerness and your lip biting in anticipation. His heart was also pounding.

You saw his right eye closed and his thick eyebrow, when suddenly, a loud noise rang out, scaring the shit out of you and prompting Hal to fix the mask again, get up and assess for danger.

He finally fell to his senses and realized something.

He just took the worst decisions ever.

Everything happened too fast. Flash was on your side, holding a needle to your arm, and Green Lantern was being thrown around by a red and blue blur. Only the feminine rageful scream gave you the hint to who it was.

You got up, ready to die for your soulmate, when the antidote kicked in.

You threw up.

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cressidagrey · 1 month

Text

The Witching Hour - Chapter 6 - Azriel (The End)

Summary:

5 Times members of the Inner Circle get absolutely terrified by Azriel's...whatever she is, and 1 (of many) times Azriel thinks that his witch was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Warnings:

Mention of Amarantha, Mention of Murder, Mention of torture, Rhys Bashing, Definitely NSFW, Rough but consensual sex, (I literally titled this chapter Morticia and Gomez: Acotar Edition)

(super pretty dividers by @cafekitsune)

"I want you to keep away from her."

Azriel held back a sigh.

He should have expected something like this probably... but it was still pissing him off.

Azriel kept his expression carefully neutral as he met Rhys' gaze. "Why?" he asked simply, his voice giving nothing away.

Rhys scowled, crossing his arms. "Because I say so," he said firmly. "I don't want you anywhere near her."

Azriel held back a snort. "Out of pure interest," he drawled. "Why exactly are you suddenly this interested in what female I pursue?"

Rhys clenched his jaw, his irritation mounting at Azriel's questioning. "I'm not interested in the specifics," he said gruffly. "I just don't want you anywhere near her, that's all'."

"You don't want me near Elain and you don't want me near Cate," Azriel said drily. “Anybody else?”

Rhys bristled at Azriel's words, his eyes narrowing. "This isn't about Elain," he said hotly. "This is about Cate. And I don't want you anywhere near Cate, understood?"

Azriel raised an eyebrow, his own irritation rising. "And why, pray tell, do you get to dictate who I spend my time with?" he asked, his voice deceptively casual.

Rhys bristled at Azriel's tone, his irritation growing.

"Because I'm the High Lord, and this is my court," he said, his voice taking on a cold, authoritative tone. "And I don't want you involved with her."

Azriel rolled his eyes, his patience wearing thin. "And what's your reason for that?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Afraid she'll give me cooties?"

Rhys visibly bristled, his irritation clear in his eyes.

"Damnit, Azriel, you know it's not about that," he snapped "She's not right for you. She's too powerful, too unpredictable. She'll only cause trouble and chaos."

Azriel let out a scoff, his own irritation rising. "And who are you to say who's right for me?" he shot back. "You don't know a thing about her, or about my own feelings."

Didn't know how sometimes Cate was the only one who understood him...who didn't judge him...who said nothing and just listened.

"I know enough to say she's trouble," Rhys said firmly. "And that's all I need to know. She doesn't belong here, and she doesn't belong with you."

"Speak for yourself," Azriel answered calmly. "I know her. She knows me. I trust her."

He did know her. He knew her better than anybody else in his life. He trusted her with his life and he trusted her to act in the best interest of Prythian.

Rhys's eyes widened, his anger replaced by surprise and disbelief. "You...you trust her?" he asked, his voice filled with incredulity. "After everything I've said, after everything I've warned you about, you still trust her? You know some of the things that she has done!"

Azriel didn't flinch.

"She isn't the only person with blood on her hands," he responded evenly.

She really wasn’t. He had done worse than her. At least Cate had always acted on behalf of Fate and the vision that came to her. She did what needed to be done to make the best vision come to life.

He had just slaughtered people on the orders of Rhys’ father.

Rhys bristled at Azriel's response, his face tightening with anger. "That's entirely different, and you know it," he snapped. "We may have blood on our hands, but we do what we do for the betterment of this court, of the Night Court. We have a responsibility to protect our people and our land. You cannot compare us to her."

"Can't we?" Azriel asked. As far as he cared…they were much more similar than Rhys would like. "She has her reasons, Rhys, if you believe it or not."

"She could have killed Amarantha and she didn't!" Rhys bit out.

Oh.

Azriel should have realised that that was going to be the sticking point.

He knew where Cate had spent these 50 years. Keeping an eye on Hybern. He had thought she was dead. Had thought that maybe Cate had been Amarantha’s first political murder…but Cate had always been smart enough to know when to go underground. When to hide herself away so well that it was impossible to find her, even for him.

Only after the last battle with Hybern had been fought…only then, her information trickle to him. She had been fighting her own, one-woman mission, keeping the human lands as safe as she could.

And she had also told him what exactly would have happened if she had interfered more obviously. If she hadn’t hidden herself away in the shadows, made sure that nobody knew that she was a piece on the chessboard as well.

“She had her reason,” Azriel said quietly.

"Why didn't she?" Rhys shot back, his anger flaring. "She had the power to do it. She has the capability. But instead, she chose to stand by and watch us suffer. She chose to let us endure fifty years of torture and horrors."

Azriel's expression darkened. "There are things you don't know, Rhys," he said quietly. "Things that no one knows, things that she hasn't told anyone."

He knew what he asked her about…but there were some things where Cate just turned silent...just stared emptily in front of her with these green eyes an ocean of pain and suffering…and he left it at that. It was better that way.

There were things that Cate didn't even tell him...that she never would utter to a single soul.

Rhys clenched his jaw, his irritation and frustration mounting even more at Azriel's words. "And what exactly would those 'things' be that she hasn't told anyone?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

He could feel the adamantium ripped claws against the shield of his mind, could feel the deep gouges Rhys left and he held his own, clenching his teeth.

Rhys let out a growl of frustration, Azriel's mental shields holding firm against the onslaught of Rhys.

"Damnit, Azriel," he bit out. "I'm trying to protect you, can't you see that?"

"All I am seeing is that you keep trying to control me," Azriel bit out.

"Control you?" Rhys repeated incredulously. "You think that's what this is about? You think I'm just controlling you because I feel like it?"

Azriel shot him a dark glance. "What else do you call trying to dictate who I do and don't spend my time with, hm?"

First Elain, now Cate. Azriel was done.

What he did with Cat had no political ramifications for Rhys whatsoever…unless one counted easier access to certain kinds of information.

"I'm trying to look out for you, you stubborn, infuriating, idiot," Rhys gritted out. "I'm trying to keep you safe, to keep you from getting hurt. From getting burned."

Azriel let out a scoff, his irritation mounting. "And do you really think I'm so weak and helpless that I need you to 'keep' me safe?" he shot back. "| can take care of myself, Rhys. I don't need you hovering over me like a mother hen."

"You are the spymaster of this court! And you are colluding with her!"

"Colluding?" Azriel repeated, his tone flat. "We're not planning a coup if that's what you're implying. Actually, if you truly think that I would do something like that...then I think I have no place in this court anymore."

Rhys froze at Azriel's words, his irritation replaced by surprise and a hint of guilt. "Don't say that," he said, his voice quieter now. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Do I?" Azriel asked him flatly.

If Rhys truly thought that he and Cate were planning to topple his throat, then Azriel should not be trusted at all.

Rhys let out a huff, running a hand through his hair.

"Damnit, Azriel," he muttered. "You know me better than that. You know that I would never doubt your loyalty."

"Az..." Cassian piped up.

Azriel's gaze turned to Cassian, who had been watching the exchange silently from the sidelines. "What?" he bit out. "Want to call Cate a whore? Again? Or would you like to go back to implying that she is using me? Again? Do you truly take me for stupid enough that I wouldn't have noticed?"

Cassian tensed at Azriel's sharp words, his own irritation mounting at being called out so directly. "I'm not calling her a whore," he muttered defensively. "I just think you're being reckless, that's all."

"The one thing Cate did was to help Nesta," Azriel said, his voice even. "I know you didn't like it, but it clearly worked. Nesta made that choice, Cassian. And Nesta had every right to make this fucking choice too."

Cassian clenched his jaw, stung by Azriel's words. "I get that," he bit out. "And thanks to her, I now got a mate that's so fucking furious with me that she doesn't even talk to me anymore."

"I hate to be the one to tell you, but that Nesta is angry at you, has nothing to do with Cate," Azriel snapped. "She's angry because you think you have a right to decide what she does with her own body. We have some people who think they can decide what happens to a female's body in this court. Do you truly wish to put yourself on the same level as them?" Azriel said lowly.

Cassian froze, his expression darkening at the implications of Azriel's words. "I'm not like that," he said tightly, his own anger mounting. "You know damn well I'm not like that."

"Prove it," Azriel bit out. "Cate only cast a Dreamcatcher Spell. She has cast the same on me, numerous times. The only thing it does is to blunt the emotional impact of the nightmares. Nothing else. She did that as a favour to me, Cassian."

Cassian scowled. "So she's your personal magic spell caster now?" he asked, his voice cold. "She's just there to help you get a good night's sleep?"

Azriel's nostrils flared at Cassian's barbed words. "She's my friend, not just some 'spell caster'," he said, his voice tight with anger. "And maybe if you actually bothered to talk to her yourself instead of just listening to rumours, you would see that too."

Cassian shot him a dark glance, his expression closed off.

"I'm not interested in getting to know her," he said coldly.

Azriel let out a scoff, his own anger mounting even more. "Of course, you aren't," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's easier to judge someone without knowing them, isn't it?"

Rhys stepped in, his voice cutting through the tension in the air. "Alright, that's enough," he said firmly. "This arguing is getting us nowhere. We need to figure out a way forward, not keep sniping at each other like children."

Azriel clenched his jaw, his own irritation still simmering beneath the surface.

Cassian grumbled to himself but finally nodded. "Fine," he muttered. "What do you suggest, then?"

Rhys let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Well, for starters, Azriel, maybe you could stop spending so much time with her," he suggested.

Azriel couldn't help but bark out a laugh. "No," he said drily. "I really don't care if you like it or not, Rhys, but Cate's presence in my life is not something that we are going to argue about. Either you accept it or you don't. If you don't, you'll get to find yourself a new spymaster."

Rhys froze at Azriel's words, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Are you...are you actually threatening to quit over this?" he asked, a hint of incredulity in his voice.

"It's not a threat," Azriel said quietly. "I am telling you that my relationship with Cate is not up for debate. I am telling you that her presence in my life is non-negotiable. She's important to me, Rhysand."

Maybe the most important of them all.

She understood him. Nobody else understood him. She wasn’t scared of him. Everybody was always scared of him. She didn’t once flinch away from the things he had done, because she had done the same or worse. It was so…easy to be with her.

He didn’t need to pull on a mask and behave like a normal person, because she wasn’t normal either. She would never judge him for some of the horrific dark thoughts that ran around in his head. She had the same.

Rhys clenched his jaw, trying to rein in his anger. "You'd really throw away centuries of loyalty and friendship for her?" Rhys asked tightly.

"If you don't trust me anymore to do my job, then there is nothing to throw away," Azriel said quietly. "You already stopped treating me like your brother by Winter Solstice, Rhysand. I did what you asked. I kept away from Elain. I only tried to help Nesta, but you don't like my methods, so clearly I must be out to destroy my brother's mating bond. Gods, do you even hear yourself?! Cate has done nothing to you, or to Nesta or to Elain. She offered her help, even when she was treated utterly reprehensible by you,” he spat out.

Rhys bristled at the accusation, his irritation mounting. "I never said I didn't trust you, Azriel," he gritted out. "I just don't trust her"

Azriel let out a scoff, his own annoyance sharpening.

"Why?" he asked, his voice sharp as a knife. "Why is it that you're so desperate to find fault in her that you're questioning my judgement and my own ability to be discerning?"

Rhys clenched his jaw, his irritation warring with a hint of guilt. "I just... just think you're not seeing her clearly," he said, his voice tight. "She's clouding your mind, making you see her in a more... favourable light."

Azriel rolled his eyes, his irritation mounting again. "I'm not some damn swooning schoolboy, Rhys," he said firmly. "I'm not some naive idiot that falls for every pretty face. And you should know me better than to assume that I would let her manipulate me in such a way."

Without a word, he lifted the shirt he wore, lifting the glamour that kept the bargain mark from sight.

Rhys's eyes widened at the sight of the mark on Azriel's shoulder. "You...you made a bargain with her?" he said, disbelief and concern colouring his voice. It was a circle with a star that…not any bigger than a gold coin.

"The very first time I met her," Azriel bit out. "To tell each other the truth, regardless of anything else."

Centuries ago...the first time he came across his witch...he had been a spy working for Rhys' father. He had been ready to snatch the mantle of spymaster for himself...until Cate had been quicker.

His competition had turned into dust...and he met Hecate The Undying.

They had a bargain. Even still to this day. To tell each other the truth.

Hers wrapped over her shoulder blade...his around his ribs.

Rhys's brow furrowed in confusion and consternation.

"Why?" he asked, his voice tight. "Why would you make such a bargain, with a stranger no less?"

Azriel gritted his teeth, his irritation mounting. He had never enjoyed talking about this particular subject. "She saved my life," he said quietly. "And it was the only way to make sure that we could trust each other."

Cassian's eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean, she saved your life?" he asked, his voice betraying his own shock.

Azriel clenched his jaw, his irritation still there, but now a hint of vulnerability as well. "There was a...an incident, long ago," he said quietly. "Before I became spymaster...there was...more than one option for the next holder of that title. Some decided to team up. Take me out of the running. And she...she saved me from certain death. She offered me the bargain as a way to...repay the debt."

Rhys gaped at Azriel's words, shock and surprise registering on his face. Cassian was similarly taken aback, clearly having not expected this revelation. "You never told us," Rhys finally managed to say

Azriel let out a scoff, a hint of bitterness entering his voice. "Would you have believed me, if I did?" he asked, his gaze fixed on Rhys's face.

Rhys had the decency to look guilty at that, his jaw clenching as he tried to find an answer. But before he could say anything, Cassian spoke up. "Azriel, you know we would have listened to you, right?" he asked, his voice tight with suppressed emotion.

Azriel let out a huff, his irritation and defensiveness faltering momentarily in the face of Cassian's genuine concern. "..." he started, but then trailed off, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter," he said quietly, his voice guarded.

"It does matter," Cassian urged, taking a step forward. "You're my brother, Azriel. We have fought together, bled together. We have shared everything. Why would you think we wouldn't believe you about something this important?"

"Because you don't believe me right now," Azriel spat out.

Cassian reeled back, stung by Azriel's response. "That's not...that's not true," he protested, even as the guilt settled in the pit of his stomach.

Azriel let out a scoff. "Is it? You don't believe me when I say that she's trustworthy. You think she's manipulating me, that she's somehow got me under her spell. We've met 500 years ago. If she had me under her spell it would not be a new thing," he said flippantly. "She came to Velaris on my request. Because I knew that we could use all the help we could get with Koschei and with Elain."

Cassian's eyebrows shot up at Azriel's admission. "Wait, she's here because...you asked her to come?" he asked, surprise and a hint of disbelief colouring his voice.

Azriel let out a scoff, his irritation flaring again. "Yes, Cassian, she's here because I asked her to come," he bit out. "Can you believe that? Incredible that this selfish monster comes just because I say please, right?! That she is willing to help, even when she gets nothing out of it."

There was a hint of bitter sarcasm in his voice that sent a pang through Rhys' chest. "Azriel, that's not..." he started, but trailed off, unsure what to say.

"I don't want to hear it," Azriel said sharply. "Keep out of my private life. Both of you. You can trust me to act in the best interest of this court. But you will not get me to give up Cate. I'll be by her side until she decides she doesn't want me to be."

Rhys and Cassian both froze at Azriel's firm declaration, both taken aback by the fierce protectiveness in his voice.

There was a tense silence in which neither one of them dared to speak.

"General, High Lord," Azriel drawled before he turned on.his heel and walked out.

For a moment, neither one of them spoke. They just stood there, quietly watching as Azriel stormed off, the door clicking shut behind him.

Finally, Rhys let out a heavy sigh. "Well, that could have gone better."

Azriel though... Azriel went home.

Azriel stalked through the streets, his expression thunderous. He was furious with Rhys and Cassian for questioning his judgement, and for not trusting him. But he was also feeling a growing sense of agitation and anxiety over the whole situation.

As he finally approached his house, he paused momentarily, taking a deep breath to try and quell the mix of emotions swirling within him.

Not to a place. No place had ever been home for him. But to a person. A person that he knew he could trust with his life.

They had never put a label on what exactly their relationship was.

Had never bothered with it. They had always just been...them. They came together and then they went apart again, sometimes for weeks, sometimes decades...but every time they came back together it was like no time had passed at all.

But he knew what it was. Knew what it was to meet his other half...his perfect, match, his equal. And he didn't care what anybody else thought about it any longer. He was done trying to hide, done trying to behave in a way that was more socially acceptable. He wanted his witch.

He wanted Cate.

He wanted her warm laughter, her sharp wit. He wanted her soft body to bury his face as he breathed her in. He wanted those big, green eyes of hers to look at him with affection, not suspicion.

He wanted her in a way he had never wanted anything or anyone before in his existence. And he would be damned if he let anyone come between them.

He finally arrived at Cate's townhouse, his heart thudding in his chest. He didn't hesitate for a moment, not even bothering to knock as he pushed down the handle to the door and stepped into the house.

Azriel gave the jaguar a nod in greeting, his expression softening slightly as he glanced down at the jaguar. "Hey, you," he said quietly. "Where's Cate?"

Belladonna was her familiar, bound to her through an ancient magical ritual. She served as a companion, as a focus for Cate’s magic, as protector…She was a part of Cate just like his shadows were for him.

He didn’t need an actual thought until his shadows went to swarm to her, always having liked the big cat that playfully swiped at them, claws carefully withdrawn, before she looked at Azriel and then in the direction of the bedroom.

Azriel let out a soft breath as he saw the direction of the jaguar's glance. He took that as a cue to head to the bedroom, his heart beating faster with every step he took.

Azriel let out a soft breath as he saw her spread out on the bed, asleep. He moved forward quietly, his gaze trailing over her face, over her unruly red hair, her freckled arms and slender legs. She was so beautiful, so vulnerable without her usual sharp edge.

He could see the signs of exhaustion on her face, the dark circles under her eyes, the slight frown on her forehead. She was tired, no doubt from the day's events. He felt a pang in his chest, an overwhelming urge to protect her, to take care of her in that moment.

The High Lord went to see her this morning, his shadows whispered. Her magic forced him out of the house.

Azriel grunted, his eyes narrowing as the shadows informed him of Rhys' visit to Cate's house. That meddling bastard, he grumbled, a hint of irritation in his voice. He should've left her alone.

It must have gotten bad if Cate had forced Rhys out of her house.

He didn't hesitate as he undressed. Regardless of Cassian's worry for his manhood, Azriel had never worried about that once.

As he got into the bed behind her, he pulled her close to him, savouring the feeling of her body against his. Azriel tucked his head into the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of her hair. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her tightly against him like a lifeline.

For a moment, he just lay there, holding her close, taking comfort in the sound of her slow, steady breathing. But then he couldn't help it, his hand began to wander. It started at her waist, tracing lightly over the curves of her body.

He moved up, his fingers tracing over the delicate skin of her hip, her ribs, the valley between her breasts. He heard her breath hitch as he touched her, her body stirring in response to his touch. He felt her press back against him, her body seeking out the comfort of his touch. He pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, his mouth moving lightly over the sensitive skin.

Cate let out a soft sigh, her body responding to him, arching slightly in his arms. He couldn't resist, his hand wandering lower, tracing the line of her hipbone, the softness of her stomach. He felt her shiver as he touched her, her fingers twitching in the sheets.

He didn't stop, his hand continuing its journey down, down to the apex of her thighs. He pressed his fingers gently against her flesh, feeling the heat…the wetness that already coated his fingers. Between one breath and the next, her eyes opened slowly, a soft gasp escaping her lips. She turned her head slightly, her gaze lazily meeting his. "Azriel," she breathed, her voice ragged with sleep and desire.

Azriel moved quickly, his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss. He poured all his desperation, his need for her, into the kiss, his hand still tracing over the soft skin of her thighs.

If Cate was caught off guard by his forwardness, but she quickly recovered and pressed herself against him, responding to his kiss with a soft mewl.

Her tongue met his, dancing against it, and he could taste the familiar hint of apples and spice in her mouth. It sent a shiver down his spine, sparking a blaze of desire within him.

Her. Nothing, nobody had ever been able to compare.

Azriel ran one of his hands down her side, her curves a familiar and comforting sensation. He deepened the kiss, claiming more, pushing her harder into the wall, pressing his body against hers.

The desire, the fierce need to touch, taste, and feel all of her, was mounting rapidly, taking over his senses.

He broke the kiss momentarily, panting as he took her in.

Cate's hair was even more tousled, her lips red and wet. Her eyes had darkened to an almost black hue, the want in them so clear that it made his very blood sing.

He leaned back in, his lips trailing down her neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin. He could feel her body responding to his touch, the way she pressed herself into him, arching into him in silent invitation.

Her scent, her taste, the feel of her...the noises she made...all of it drove him crazy, made him want more, more...more of her. Azriel pressed himself against her, his body desperate for connection, for the feel of her skin against his.

He couldn't get enough of her, couldn't stop himself from touching her, from tasting her, from making her moan and writhe under his touch.

Azriel moved down, his lips and tongue trailing over her collarbone, her throat, and the top of her chest.

Azriel was drowning in her, his senses overrun by everything that was this glorious, maddening female. He could feel his hands shaking with the need to touch her, to hold her and never let go.

He needed her, needed to make her his, to claim her completely. His hands roamed over her body, caressing, teasing, marking her skin with his touch, marking her as his and only his.

A bite here, a kiss there, adding to the patchwork of bruises and hickeys he had already left. Cate was his.

His fingers traced over her skin, trailing over the marks he had left behind. It was satisfying in a primal way, to see the evidence of his possession of her body. His. She was his.

"Say it," he whispered hoarsely, his voice a rough, needy growl. "Say you're mine."

His hands continued their assault, his fingers trailing over her hips, her stomach, up to her thighs.

He wanted, no, needed to hear the words from her lips, needed her to confirm what he already knew in his heart to be true. And judging by the way she arched into his touch, the way her eyes darkened further at his demand, she wanted it just as badly as he did.

"Cate," he said again, his voice even rougher than before. "Say it. Say you're mine."

He punctuated his demand with a bite to her shoulder, sharp and possessive.

His hands roamed over her body again, more insistent, more desperate. He knew he was being greedy, that he was pushing the boundaries, but he didn't care. He needed her to say those words. He needed her to claim him as much as he was claiming her.

Her breath hitched, her body arching again. He could feel the heat emanating from her, the desire burning in her veins just as strongly as it burned in his.

"I'm...I'm yours," Cate gasped out, her voice ragged with need.

He rewarded her with his cock thrusting inside her, a cry coming from her, just as he bit down again.

She hadn’t truly been ready for him, but neither of them had ever shied away from a bite of pain. Besides, he trusted her to use her safeword if she needed it. And she would. They may played rough, but they had done this often enough to know each other’s boundaries very well.

And like this, her body quivering around him, her cunt struggling to stretch around him, her body tightly pressed against him…for once she was utterly at his mercy.

His body thrummed with a primal satisfaction, as he began to move, his body rocking against hers. His grip on her hips was bruising, the need to lose himself in her overwhelming. His lips found her neck again, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin, drawing out soft gasps from her. The sound of their breathing and the soft wet slapping of skin mingled with the occasional thump against the wall, the only sound in the otherwise silent room. He lost himself in the feeling of her, the way she moved and writhed against him. The desire, the passion, the desperate need to be closer, more was almost a living thing, driving him to move faster, harder, claiming her and being claimed.

He was consumed by her, by the sensations coursing through his body, by the sheer need to be as close to her as physically possible.

Azriel could feel himself approaching the edge

Her body was shuddering, clenching around him, the soft gasps and mewls becoming whimpers as she too felt the tension building. He could feel her nails biting into his skin, the sting of it feeding him, pushing him further on.

His movements became faster, more frantic. He was close, so close, but he wanted her to go over the edge with him. He nipped at her neck, the sound of her gasps and moans spurring him on. His grip tightened on her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, desperate to hold on.

"Mine," he repeated, more to himself than to her. "Mine," he said again, the word a low growl.

He repeated the word again and again, like a mantra, a desperate claim. As he felt her body shuddering against his, the sounds of her climax mingling with his own, he said it again, for good measure, his mouth against the shell of her ear. "Mine," he said again, his voice ragged and raw. "You're mine."

And as Azriel let his body surrender to the climax, the sensation overwhelming and all-consuming, he repeated it once more, his eyes closed, his forehead resting against hers.

"You're mine."

As they both came down, he didn't let go of her. He kept her close, his arms wrapped around her like a lifeline.

"I love you," he murmured in her ear, his voice hoarse but firm. He had never said the words aloud, but now it felt like a dam had burst, a truth that had been there all along finally spilling out into the open.

"I love you," he repeated, his eyes still shut, his face nuzzling against her neck. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest, the rapid thump slowly returning to a more normal pace.

He wasn't even sure why he'd kept the words from her for so long. Fear, maybe, of scaring her off. Or maybe because he was just so used to keeping his emotions tightly leashed.

Maybe because he knew that she thought that every other person would just keep leaving her.

He knew her well enough to be aware of her trust issues. He knew that she had walls built up, as high as the damn sky. He knew that she was terrified of putting her heart on the line and getting it broken.

It was buried deep, hidden behind her prickly exterior, her sharp tongue, and her fiercely independent spirit. But once you broke through all of that, once you earned her trust and got through those walls of hers, her love was fierce, unwavering, and loyal to a fault.

He took her face in his hands, tilting it up so he could look at her. "Say it," he demanded again, the need to hear her say the words overwhelming. "Please," he added softly, the desperate plea in his voice clear.

He searched her face, his eyes locking with hers, pleading and desperate. He needed to hear those three little words from her more than he needed air to breathe. He cupped her face in his hands, tilting her head up so he could look directly into her eyes.

Her eyes met his, the green depths holding a mixture of love, amusement, and tenderness. She let out a soft huff, gently cupping his face in her hands. "Of course, I love you, you sap," she said, her voice warm and affectionate.

The words washed over him like a balm, soothing and healing, chasing away the doubts that had lingered in his mind. He let out a shaky breath, his eyes still locked with hers. "You love me?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper as if he still couldn't quite believe it.

He felt a rush of emotion, a combination of joy, relief, and disbelief. He pulled her closer, burying his head in the crook of her neck once again. "Again," he whispered. "Say it again.

Her laughter vibrated through her body, the sound like music to his ears. "I love you," she repeated, the words firm and steady. "I love you, you insufferable, overprotective bat."

He chuckled, the sound muffled against her skin. Her words felt like a balm to his soul, soothing away the last remnants of uncertainty.

"Insufferably overprotective, huh?" he asked, his lips curving into a soft smile against her neck.

She huffed again, the sound amused and affectionate. "You're a 500-year-old warrior with severe control issues," she pointed out. "What else am I supposed to call you?"

He hummed, the sound an imitation of agreement. "Severe control issues," he repeated, lifting his head to look at her again. He brushed a loose strand of hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear. "Is that really how you see me?"

"Yes," she replied without missing a beat. "You are insufferable. You are possessive and territorial, and sometimes I just want to strangle you." A note of laughter crept into her voice.

"Strangle me, huh?" he retorted, lifting his head slightly.

She laughed again, her hands coming up to thread through his hair. "You're lucky I love you," she teased.

"I think I'm the luckiest male alive," he replied, leaning in to press a kiss to her neck.

"Some people will vehemently disagree with you there," Cate said, her voice quiet.

He chuckled his lips still against her skin. "Let them," he murmured. "I'm not here to please everyone, only you."

She hummed, her nails scratching lightly at his scalp. "You're too sappy for your own good," she scolded softly. "I never want to come between you and your family," Cate said quietly.

He lifted his head, his expression turning serious. "You never will," he said firmly, his voice carrying an undercurrent of steel. "You're mine, and I won't let anyone or anything get between us."

She rolled her eyes, but he cupped her cheek. "I am serious. They are not going to like this," she warned him. "They didn't even like it when we were just...having fun."

He stroked her cheek gently with his thumb. "That's their problem," he said, his voice firm. "I don't care what they think. I care about you. And I will fight tooth and nail for us if I have to."

"You're incredible," she murmured, her eyes soft. "And I swear to the Mother, if you get yourself killed out of some misplaced sense of protectiveness, I will resurrect you and kill you myself."

He couldn't help but laugh at that.

He chuckled. "That's fair," he conceded, his thumb still tracing gentle circles on her cheek. "But I don't care what anybody thinks. Let them have their opinions. I don't care what they think. All that matters is that I have you."

She let out a shaky laugh, relief and affection warring in her eyes. "You're insane," she told him, though her voice was filled with affection. "You know that, right?"

"Only when it comes to you," he assured her, his hand moving to cup her chin. "You drive me mad, in the best possible way."

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #my writing #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #The Witching Hour

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flamingpudding · 8 months

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I love your writing so much but I'm here with a crack idea just imagine deage Dan is Klarion.

Dan was able to find out who he is outside of Danny then he was able to change his name Klarion Jackson Fenton/Nightingale he is still a little villain boy also now a mom boy.

Ghost King Danny is his mom young justice was so confused when Klarion you're the best gifts get your mom after not talking to him for a while to also begging them to pretend to be his friend . Justice League dark is panicking in the background about the electric being that just shows up.

Danny in full ghost king attire standing there with a plate of cookies ready to meet his son's new friends.

Thanks so much! I am glad you enjoy my writing!

Also thanks because I absolutely love this Idea/Prompt! Sooooo please enjoy this piece inspired by it! Also I haven't consumed a lot of DC material lately so i am basing this all on my memories. In other words.... I went with Tim's little team here.

Hope that's okay and that this won't disappoint.

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

Dan, who was going by Klarion for some years now, had a massive problem. It was the huge kind of problem build on small bubbles of lies that then turned into this one giant bubble that was about to pop just because of one little question asked by his mom when his sister decided to throw him under the bus to deflect from herself and the fact that she was dating a demon. Don't get him wrong he still loves her, but man did he want to strangle Danielle right now.

"So Klarion, Ellie is right. When will I get to meet your friends you told me so much about?"

It was such an innocent question from his mom. And while his moms titles don't scare him, cause at some point in time they could have been his too, the happy dopey smile like nothing was wrong in the dimensions with little expectations directed at him was the scariest thing his mom could ever direct at him when he had asked THAT question.

So now Klarion was in need of a quick solution. When his mom had asked he had mumbled out a quick: "Next week maybe. We won't be busy with hero stuff then." He had started to form a plan. First of all, he needed to remember what all he had told his mom about his new and redeemed life on Earth 43 he had build for himself with the name Klarion Jackson Fenton-Nightingale.

Which fuck. There was a lot he had told his mom just so he wouldn't worry.

Cause now he also remembers that whenever he had gone out to cause some chaos he had made it seem to his mom like he was going out to bond with his new friend or help them with their hero duty. Well, in a way maybe his chaos causing could be seen as bonding. The ghostly kind, that is. And as for helping with the hero duty... he did give them work, something to do with their hero status. Anyway Klarion tried to remember all possible names he had dropped. Shit why did he also mention to his mom that he was working with heroes to make her proud? He should have name dropped some villains instead but nearly all of them were adults. He knew his mom would have frowned if he had only adult friends and no one around his age.

He was pacing his room in their castle. He need a plan, a good one at that. He knows he name dropped Robin, now Red Robin, Superboy and Impulse on a whim once. Superboy more so cause his mom had been interested in the Alien Heros of the Earth of the dimension he was partially living on now. He had mentioned Robin for the joke of knowing that there is a Dinner in an other Dimension with the same name. And because his Grandfather didn't like the Flash-clan which meant his mom didn't like them too much because of their messing with timelines either, he had mentioned being friends with Impulse on pure spite because of a punishment one day and to see their reactions. So he had to get these three on board anyway, and because for the heck of it he would get Wonder Girl involved too. It was never bad to have a girl in a friends group.

Klarion stopped his pacing. Turning towards his demonic ghost cat companion, kind of what Cujo was to his mom now. "Teekl, I think I have a plan. I will convince these Idiots, that shouldn't be a huge problem. Most of them are normale little flesh sacks." Teekl and him stared for some time at each other and after a moment Klarion huffed turning away with crossed arms. "It's a good plan don't be so sceptical, they are heroes right? They will not refuse my request!"

Well maybe Klarion should have planned this a bit better.

The next day Red Robin blinked at the witch boy up from the ground in the living room of what looked like to be an normal apartment. He had just been in Gotham, working on a case and now he was here? Looking to the left he also noticed that Superboy (the older), Impulse and Wonder Girl were also with him. They all looked stunned he observed and partially disoriented. Additionally they hadn't heard from Klarion since the last time they had foiled his plans on raging chaos upon the earth, that had been weeks ago.

"Kla-"

"I have summoned you heroes here. For the moment it is fruitless to try to leave because of the magic barrier." Okay rude to be cut of but that explained why he suddenly wasn't where he remembered to be last anymore. It was now Superboy who opened his mouth first but before he could even make a sound Klarion decided to speak over them again. "I have presents."

Four young heroes collectively blinked, confused, stunned and weirded out. As the which boy before them waved over to wards a table filled with boxes and packages. "I come in peace today, to proof that I brought these are presents, filled with various goods from different dimensions that should be to the liking of you all. Technologie, accessories, snacks, weapons, as well as clothing styles."

Red Robin shared a glance with his friends, a silent communication but before he once again could say anything Impulse was already by the table going through the stuff. They could here his 'oh's and 'ah's, which inevitably made them curious and they wandered over too. Klarion was not acting hostile at all yet but Red Robin did not trust that so he kept the which boy in clear view the entire time.

"Rob! You gotta see this! That actual futuristic Tech!"

"Look at these snacks."

"These accessories don't look to bad..."

His eye twitched when he noticed Klarion was sporting a smug look. Red Robin had to ask now, because this was not normal for the other. "Okay usually you would have started some big shot chaos plan by now. I don't buy this peace offering act and your way to formal talking. So what is going on?"

The other three, thankfully in Red Robins opinion, finally looked away from the tempting gifts and also turned their attention fully on Klarion. Who's smug smile falter as he let out a sigh and stared at them with what they could only describe as a frustrated look.

"My mom is planning to visit me."

"And?" Impulse asked between munching on three different bags of chips that where on the table.

"And he believes I am friends with you idiots."

They stared slack jawed. Impulse was pinching himself like he couldn't believe what they had just heard. Did one of their Villains, just informed them that their mom believes they were friends? Red Robin was starting to think he might be in a sleep deprived Hallucination.

"Why would she?" Wonder Girl questioned next to which Klarion glared at her with fire in his eyes.

"First of, my mom uses the pronouns he/Him. Be rude to my mom and I will find a way to make your life a permanent hell on earth." Wonder Girl blinked lifting her hands as in a sign of peace. "Second, my mom is under the believe that i work with heroes not against them. I do not have the heart to disappoint him after everything that happened in the past. So I embellished the truth a little."

"A little?" Superboy retorted sarcastically, to which they caught a light blush dusting the which boy's cheeks.

"Look my sister threw me under the bus and my mom wants to meet my friends now! So I need you idiots to play nice with me for when he visits!"

"And we will do that because?" Red Robin crossed his arms, watching their villain sceptically still not really buying this entire act. This was to strange of an behaviour change. Something was up, and he was going to get behind it.

Klarion on the other hand was starting to panic internally. His plan was not as he had hoped. The presents he had specifically gotten from other dimensions with what he believed was their interests did not work to make them simply accept his request. This was the last time he would listen to old man Vlad on how to bribe humans, he wasted his entire week on getting all that stuff. His mom was going to show up soon enough he need to have them act as his friends by then so he could remove the magic barrier. Or else his mom would notices he faked everything.

They left him no choice. He would have to throw his pride away for the sole reason to not disappoint his mom.

All four Young Justice Heroes blinked as Klarion suddenly threw himself on the ground before them into a pleading position.

"Please! I beg you, just for the time my mom is here. Please act like my friends!"

"I didn't think Klarion was a mama's boy...." Impulse whispered to the rest of them in pure disbelief as they stared stunned at the kneeling witch boy.

Cut to the heroes that noticed their teens were missing.....

"Where is he?" Batman growled at the Constantine who was sighing tiredly.

"Look mate, the way you and the other Spandex wearing friends explained it, made it sound like they got summoned by a being of the Infinit Realms." The blond man sighed lighting another cigarette eying the four heroes, Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman and Flash. Zatanna was behind him pouring over a book about the realms and trying to find a tracking spell to trace it back and to where they could have been summoned.

"Don't you have something like a tracker on your boy?" Batman only growled something under his breath to which the Brite couldn't help to arch and eyebrow. Constantine was going to say something sarcasting as Deadman suddenly appeared a panicked look on him. "The Ghost King has chosen to come to our dimension."

"Say bloody what now?" All attention that had been on the heroes and their problem of missing teenage heroes turned now to Deadman and the news he brought with him. "The ghost, shades and spirits talked, for the king has decided to visit our Dimension. They are in an uproar, no one knows of why our King is on his way."

"Bloody fucking hell!" Constantine cursed. "We are fucking screwed! Isn't that guy a fucking tyrannical eldrich war maniac?!"

Deadman nodded solemnly and Constantine uttered another hearty and colourful 'fuck'. While the heroes present exchanged worried glances, not only were their kids missing but now a, by the sounds of it, highly dangerous being decided to appear in their dimension? Batman couldn't help but think that there had to be a connection to the missing teens and this.

Meanwhile in the Infinite Realms the Ghost King Castle...

Danny smoothed out his fur trimmed cape and adjusted his crown so it was floating nicely and evenly on his head. Today was the day he would get to meet his sons friends. He needed to make a good first impression. That was why he had chosen to take on his Ghost King form for this. With the wave of his hand he made an ice mirror appear before him, checking how he was looking once again. Once satisfied he nodded to himself looking over towards Fright Knight who was holding the plate of cookies he had baked himself. It was the fifth batch, and the only one that didn't turn out burned. He had needed Jazz help for this one to turn out well. It was only proper if he brought some cookies for the kids. Also he would have loved to bring his families fudge but... the last time he had tried making them had turned into a disaster.

"Thanks Frighty. Do you think Klarion's friends will like these? Wait don't answer! If they don't like them I will just get something else to thank them for taking care of my boy." Danny rambled on as he glanced at the plate of cookies in his hands. Why was he so nervous? He was just going to get to meet his little boy's friends. Sure his boy had dropped some stories about them and his adventures with them here and there. But hearing stories and meeting the kids were two different things.

Shaking his head Danny put on his best smile as he summoned a portal to Klarions apartment in the 43th Dimension of Earth. It was time to visit his boy in the place he had made his second home and thank the people that looked after his kid.

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cxffecoupx · 4 months

Text

hyper/calm dynamics

seventeen × gn reader silly ot13, absolutely unserious warnings: none, only goofy svt word count: 413 author's notes: this was a very unserious thought that came to my mind😭 may or may not have been thought of while watching business proposal videos... might just end up making a 'silly svt series' where i do more of such stuff. also, although i mention the term 'gf' here, it's just for the presentation; i've tried my best to make it gn!! i hope you like it :)

hyper gf, calm bf seungcheol, wonwoo, woozi

aka sunshine and sunshine protector. this is such a funny thought in my head like i can see their partner being so bubbly and bouncy and the boys just stand by, smiling awkwardly. they're probably like, holding a leash thats connected to their s/o in order to keep them within sight. dont join in on their s/o's antics, but very supportive from the sidelines, probably silently cheering them up. they may not match their partner's energies, but never question their love for them.

calm gf, hyper bf junhui, seokmin, mingyu, chan

literally the opposite. the boys giving absolute second hand embarrassment while their s/o's just there like 'baby i'm not even here'. boyfriend who? but, during rare occasions, the partners might just match the boys' energies; it's hard to not have them rub off on you. the inverse of the previous sunshine and sunshine protector. partner looks at their bf like he hung up the stars and moon and the whole universe.

calm gf, calm bf jeonghan, minghao, hansol

they just exude this peaceful vibe yk. you could join them at any moment and just... exist. tea party vibes fr like some tea, sweet cookies, gentle gossiping. dont have much energy for extraordinary stuff. they're both just happy to be there, with each other. others might find them too underwhelming, but they understand each other well enough. their love language is gentle loving.

hyper gf, hyper bf soonyoung

CHAOS personified. trouble, trouble and trouble yet again. if you think you can control this couple, you're WRONG. horanghae and horanghae enthusiast. match each other's energy to a level that is genuinely concerning (and lowkey terrifying). they're so chaotic it even drains the energy out of others with them. the calm ones are just purely afraid of them. not to worry tho, they do it out of love and love only. hold so much love for each other and everyone else its cute🤧

option d: all of the above jisoo, seungkwan

cant really pinpoint what they'd be cause their energy is all over the place. one thing for sure though, their partners definitely match their freak. i can just see it. if they're calm, they're calm together. if they're chaotic, they rain hellfire on everyone else. everyone prays they remain peaceful because it's hard to manage them otherwise. but no one can say for sure. they could wake up one day and collectively choose violence.

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 9 months

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PLEASEEE CAN YOU DO A TOM BLYTH X ACTRESS ASMR FIC. IDK IF YOUVE EVER SEEN THE W MAGAZINE INTERVIEWS WITH CELEBRITIES DOING ASMR BUT ID LOVE TO READ ONE OF TOM AND THE READER BEING ALL CUTE AND WHOLESOME WHILE DOING ASMR AND TRYING NOT TO LAUGH

ASMR chaos || Tom Blyth x actress!reader

A/n: you guys continue to blow my mind with the scenarios and prompts you give me 😃 keep em coming!

Warnings: pure fluff!

Wc: 1,010

Divider by @pommecita

Walking into the room, you throw Tom an interested look as the two of you look at the microphones on the the table. As we settled into our seats, the interviewer, a vibrant woman named Lisa, welcomed us with a warm smile. “Today, we’re going to do something a bit different, something fun. Have either of you tried ASMR?” she asked.

“No, we haven’t,” You and Tom exchanged playful glances, both secretly wondering what you had gotten yourselves into. “Well, this will be a first for the both of you then!” Lisa exclaimed. “Absolutely, let’s do it,” Tom replied with a grin.

“I don’t think we’re gonna do that well babe, we’re both loud people,” You squeeze Tom’s arm as he laughs, putting on his headsets as you follow suit.

“Hey guys,” you gently murmur into the microphone, a playful glint in your eyes. “I’m Y/n Y/l/n” Tom shoots you a sidelong glance, a charming smile gracing his lips. "And I'm Tom Blyth," he adds with a hushed tone, his voice carrying a hint of mischief.

“And today-“ You move to the next microphone but end up bumping into it creating a loud noise. You cringe at the sharp noise, while Tom, caught off guard, tries to stifle a laugh, his eyes dancing with amusement.

“Sorry,” You sheepishly smile, dimples forming on your cheeks, “Today we’ll be doing A-” Tom smoothly moved towards the microphone, his voice flowing seamlessly, "S-" you gracefully took your place at the other mic, "M-" a shared moment of anticipation, "R," Tom concluded, and with satisfied glances, you both silently exchanged a high-five.

Your first challenge was the classic apple crunch. Tom took the lead, picking up a shiny red apple. He leaned into the microphone, giving it a thoughtful look before taking a bite. The crisp sound echoed in the studio, and a spontaneous giggle escaped you at the absurdity of the situation.

"Now, your turn," Tom said, handing you the apple with a mischievous glint in his eyes. You took a deep breath, trying to maintain composure. As your teeth sunk into the apple, the studio filled with a satisfying series of crunches.

Biggest mistake you made was looking at Tom, mid bite. You automatically screw your eyes shut as you and Tom lose it, having to turn away from the mics as you let out hearty chuckles.

"Don't look at me!" You whisper yell at Tom in a joking matter as he wipes the tears from his eyes, "Sorry, sorry, I couldn't help myself," he quietly apologies as you smack his arm gently. The studio was filled not only with the sound of apple crunches but also the infectious sound of both your laughs.

You were then passed a can of coke. Tapping on it with you manicured nails, you move it from microphone to microphone as Tom watches amused. "I'm so bad at opening cans with nails on-" You start but Tom has already taken it, opening it with a satisfying pop near the microphone.

The sound of it fizzing reached you ears as you purse your lips at the sound of it. You take the can back and lean towards your microphone, Tom's hands moving to tuck the stray pieces of hair that had fallen.

You try to contain your laughter as you bring the can up to your lips, sipping it. The noise was surprisingly loud in your earphones as you start quietly laughing. You took another sip, deliberately prolonging the sound for comedic effect, the noise was a combination of tiny slurps and the distinctive hiss of carbonation.

"Here, you try," you pass the can to Tom who takes it with a playful grin. He takes measured sips of it as you slightly squirm in your seat at the loud sound of it in your earphones. You watch as he takes large sips of it.

"I shouldn't have taken too many sips," he groans, setting the can down as a mischievous grin lights up your face as he adds, "I feel like burping now" he places a hand on his stomach.

"is burping considered satisfying in asmr though?" you quip, glancing at the camera crew who try to conceal their amusement. Your eyes return to Tom. "I don't know, I guess we'll find out won't we?" He chuckles, moving to the microphone.

You absolutely lost it as the sound of Tom's burp reaches your ear causing you to rip out your earphones, leaning over in your seat as you laugh out loud. Tom couldn't help but laugh at your reaction as he smacks his knee, creating an even louder sound that fueled both of your laughter.

"I think we've reached peak asmr chaos," Tom manages to say as you compose yourself, sitting up in your seat, "I'd like to formally apologise to everyone watching this-" you say in between your laugh as Tom nudges you playfully.

Your laughter became a recurring theme throughout the interview, making it clear that the genuine camaraderie between Tom and you extended beyond the screen.

A plate of watermelon was then passed to the both of you. Tom, ever the showman, took a big, theatrical bite, causing droplets of juice to splatter across the table causing your eyes to widen as you were mid-bite.

You silently laugh, throwing your head back, "We're so bad at this," Tom shakes his head with a light laugh, wiping a dribble of watermelon juice from his chin.

The next thing the two of you were handed was a bowl of noodles. "Oh no," You whisper, biting your thumb as you eye the crew member placing it in front of the two of you, including two forks.

"I just know this isn't going to end very well," you predicted, taking a fork and loading up a substantial bite of noodles. Tom grinned as he did the same.

Brushing your hair back, you leaned toward the microphone. As the fork approached your mouth, you felt Tom's intense gaze on you. "Don't even look at me," you playfully warned him, your eyes fixed ahead. Tom chuckled, fully aware that locking eyes would trigger another laughing fit.

Chewing on the noodles, you couldn't help but let out a satisfied moan at the flavor. Glancing at Tom, you saw him slurping a noodle, prompting you to cover your mouth to stifle laughter.

Tom slowly opens the packet of chips, the sound filling your ears. He passes you a chip as you both place it in your mouth, the crunch satisfying the both of you.

Your chewing comes to a stop as your eyes slightly widen at the familiar tingling sensation in the back of your throat. You squeeze Tom's arm as he gives you a puzzled look.

You then look at the chip packet, it was chili flavoured. "Oh," Tom whispers, knowing your spice tolerance was incredibly low. "Can I have water please," you start fanning yourself as Tom lets out a chuckle, quickly offering you his bottle of water as you gratefully take it.

You let out a satisfied sigh, your head leaned on Tom's shoulder. "I'm so bad with spice," you reveal, letting out a small giggle as the interview came to an end.

"Well that's it from us," Tom whispers in the microphone, "I hope you guys enjoyed this chaotic interview, I hope it was somewhat satisfying?" You sheepishly grin at the camera as Tom chuckles.

1K notes · View notes

pin-k-ink · 3 months

Note

nwjwnsjshwuw im thinking abt having a big argument with hoshina and ending in a rough rough smexy love makingg PLS PLS

daredevil // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ dub-con, manhandling, threats, mentions of injuries and death, mild objectification, rough sex, hair pulling, biting/marking, cunnilingus, blowjob, asphyxiation, mentions of pregnancy, unprotected sex, power play, degradation/name calling, face-fucking, dacryphilia, dirty-talking, squirting, it’s kinda fluffy halfway through

wc ⇢ 6.9k

a/n: i got emotional halfway through because im not used to writing characters being this mean. i legit cried. i think you can see the moment i switched up T_T

The sharp bark of Soshiro's voice sliced through the ops room like a whip-crack, killing the busy din dead. You felt those clipped syllables punch straight through the chaos and detonate somewhere deep in your gut.

Fingers frozen on the holographic display, you didn't need to turn and verify the sudden tension coiling through the atmosphere. No, you could taste the aura of displeasure rolling off your boyfriend in practically visible waves from here.

"[Y/N]." Soshiro's growl cut through the stifling quiet like a blade, frayed patience and restrained irritation strung so tightly you could practically picture the vein pulsing at his temple. "A word. Now."

You drew in a steadying breath, fighting the tiny reflexive flutter that sparked low in your belly at that display of pure, smoky dominance. Get it together - he's clearly pissed, not putting on a show for your viewing pleasure. Yet.

Squaring your shoulders, you pivoted to face the stormy-eyed glare currently attempting to bore holes straight through your skull. Soshiro filled up the doorway like an imposing sentinel, arms corded with restrained menace, expression thunderous enough to shrivel houseplants at twenty paces. His violet hair stuck up in wild disarray from where he'd no doubt been raking anxious fingers through the tumbled strands.

But it was the scorching intensity blazing in those hooded scarlet eyes that really snared your attention. The crimson irises were near eclipsed into molten rubies framed by a few slivers of hungry violet, all razored focus currently centered on drinking in every subtle micro-expression flickering across your features.

You refused to be cowed so easily, however. Keeping your shoulders rolled back, you arched one brow in studied defiance and allowed your lips to quirk in a subtly smug smirk.

"Oh, hi babe," you greeted with intentional lightness, forcing your tone to remain easy and unbothered as you blinked up at him from beneath your lashes. "Everything okay?"

You allowed a tiny pout to exaggerate your expression into one of affected innocence - the picture-perfect vision of blameless bewilderment. The muscle ticking along Soshiro's jaw was the only warning before he bulldozed straight through your attempted deflection with the subtlety of a wrecking ball through rice paper.

"Cut the innocent act, [Y/N]-chan," he near growled, the unexpected endearment somehow dripping with more menace than sugared intimacy. Soshiro's nostrils flared as he visibly struggled to rein in whatever was quickly fraying his legendary restraint to mere threads. "Ya know damn well why I'm pissed."

Doing your best to smother the tiny thrill that sparked brighter at his thinly veiled anger, you blinked up at Soshiro through your lashes. You made a show of tracing your gaze down the powerful column of his throat, over the broad, heaving expanse of his chest and sleekly-muscled abdomen just to see his jaw tick again before replying.

"Actually, I don't have a clue, Shiro," you drawled, allowing your voice to dip into a lower, slightly breathier register as you emphasized his nickname with just a hint of taunting lilt. "Care to enlighten me?"

The low, subsonic growl that rumbled through Soshiro's frame in response was downright primordial in its blatant aggression. Before you could so much as hitch in another pointed inhalation, he was suddenly looming over you like a tsunami of leashed brute strength and simmering danger.

Powerful hands whipped out to bracket your upper arms, fingers digging into the lean cords of muscle with just enough force to raise a scattering of pinprick tingles across your hyper-aware nerves. You instinctively craned your neck to maintain eye contact, refusing to be cowed by Soshiro overwhelming your personal space so completely.

His chest expanded with a deep inhalation, the steady rise and fall of that broad, hair-roughened expanse practically hypnotic this close. When Soshiro finally spoke, each precisely enunciated word seemed to reverberate straight through your very marrow with tangible menace.

"Don't play dumb, sweetheart," he rumbled in that same tone of deadly, ominous calm somehow more chilling than any shouted epithet could ever be. "Should know better than to try handlin' me with that pretty pouty act by now..."

"Alright, enough with the thinly veiled threats, Soshiro," you snapped, finally allowing your own temper to flare in the face of his brooding menace. "If you've got something to say, then spit it out already."

His eyes flashed with something darker at your blunt challenge, fingers tightening fractionally on your arms. "Ya really wanna go there, baby?" Soshiro practically purred, upper lip curling in a hint of a sneer. "Fine. The off-books recon op your platoon ran yesterday without clearin' it through the proper chains first. Ring any goddamn bells?"

You felt your own jaw tighten as you fought the instinctive urge to look away guiltily. So that was the root of his pissy mood - the intel-gathering mission you'd deemed necessary despite lacking official authorization.

"It was a prime opportunity that required swift action," you countered, struggling to keep your tone even and professional despite the clear fury simmering behind Soshiro's stare. "We got the intel, didn't we? I'd say the results justified—"

"Don't even try justifyin' that bullshit to me," Soshiro snarled, deep timbre pitching even lower and more ominous as his grasp morphed from restraining into something far more purposefully bruising. "Ya went cowboy, leading yer whole squad into an unsanctioned op without backup or oversight!"

Anger sparked bright and hot in your core at having your capabilities and decisions questioned so bluntly, so publicly. Who the hell did Soshiro think he was to dress you down like some disobedient child rather than a respected platoon leader?

"I am more than capable of assessing potential threats to my team, Vice Captain," you bit out, not even trying to mask the distill that saturated his title. You leaned into Soshiro's restraining grip rather than pull away, unwilling to show even an iota of weakness or retreat. "Perhaps if you spent more time actually supporting our efforts rather than lounging around base, you'd see—"

The words cut off in a breathless huff as Soshiro bodily hauled you closer, eliminating what little distance still separated your bristling frames down to mere ionized inches. His free hand whipped up to fist in your hair, wrenching your head back at a sharp angle that robbed your next words of any scathing barb before they could slur free.

"Don't you dare imply I don't have yer back in the field," Soshiro growled, the words seeming to thrum directly into your feverish skin as your gazes locked and held. Pupils blown wide into yawning chasms swallowed up nearly all traces of amethyst, leaving nothing but pools of opalescent darkness consuming his features. "Ya know damn well that's never been the issue, baby."

Something darker and far more insidious than mere confrontation seemed to bleed into his gaze, tempering the naked fury until it scorched like smoldering coals banked and awaiting the right spark to detonate fully. One side of Soshiro's lips peeled back in a hint of an utterly failed attempt at a smile — something feral and cold and utterly devoid of humor.

"No, the real issue here is yer single-minded self-importance and blatant disrespect for the chain of command," he rumbled in a tone of quiet, inescapable certainty. "Yer stubborn refusal to recognize the bigger picture beyond yer own glory-seekin' antics, consequences be damned..."

You opened your mouth on a vehement denial, every fiber of your being thrumming like a livewire at his unflinching accusations. But Soshiro allowed no quarter or deflection, not a single millimeter of mercy. Shifting his weight minutely, he rolled his hips forward to trap yours in an unforgiving vise of solid, unyielding strength.

"I'm done makin' excuses or turning a blind eye every time ya blatantly disregard established protocols just because ya think ya know better or yer pride's been wounded," he growled, words seeming to sear in an unstoppable cadence. "Tonight, we're going to settle this power struggle once and for all, Platoon Leader..."

His free hand fisted tighter in your hair, making you grit your teeth against the stinging pull and tightening your jaw mulishly. Who the hell did he think he was talking to you like some disobedient child?

You bristled at the clear undercurrent of challenge and threat woven through his tone, refusal to back down flaring bright and hot in your veins. "You don't get to dictate anything to me, Vice Captain," you bit out through a tightly clenched jaw, relishing in stabbing him with his own title right back.

"I don't give a fuck about bruised protocol or your oversized ego — we got the intel that could save thousands of civilian lives, and you're pitching a fit over chain of command? You weren’t even here for the past week." You shook your head slowly, allowing your lips to curve into a sneer of derision that you knew would prick at his notoriously thin skin.

"I didn't realize playing by the rules was more important to Hoshina Soshiro than actually accomplishing the mission," you drawled with heavy sarcasm, feeling a flare of vicious satisfaction as his eyes seemed to swell even darker with unbridled fury.

His jawline flexed sharply as he visibly ground his teeth, tendons standing out in harsh definition beneath the stubbled hinge. For a long moment, the air between you seemed to thicken into a smothering fog laced with static and the acidic taste of pure restrained violence.

Then Soshiro began slowly shaking his head in a subtle negation, the tattered threads of his control audibly shredding apart under the strain. When he finally spoke, the words emerged in a gravelly rasp that seemed to bypass your eardrums entirely and reverberate straight into your very bones instead:

"Ya just don't get it, do ya, sweetheart?" He sneered the affectionate nickname with an acidic twist of mockery, the sound of it slicing through your defenses to draw an instinctive flinch.

"This goes so far beyond yer meaningless authority trips or whatever bullshit glory ya think getting some scrap of half-baked intel means in the grand scheme," Soshiro snarled, leaning in until you could taste the earthy, masculine tang of his anger on each raggedly exhaled word.

"What ya clearly fail to comprehend is that yer stubborn selfishness nearly got every last member of your platoon — your people — killed chasin' some suicidal lapse in judgment." His words were measured yet potent, viciously clinical in their precision and impact.

You felt your eyes widen involuntarily at the blunt accusation, mouth opening to spit some scathing retort and defend your proven capabilities as field commander. But Soshiro barreled on in a tone of thunderous judgment, allowing no room for interruption or deflection.

"You're so caught up in yer own goddamn hubris, always convinced you've got the angles figured out, prepared for everythin'..." His laugh was about as far from humorous as could be imagined — a harsh, barking bark of wry disdain that dripped acid. "Did it ever cross that thick skull exactly how I'd feel getting the call about a squad of glassed corpses thanks to some insubordinate asshole's solo glory play?"

His words sliced straight through to your core, searing their bitter truth across every nerve. Still, you couldn't quite bite back the wounded denial that burst free:

"We made it back clean, no casualties! Your concerns are total unfounded bullshit, Soshiro!"

But that only seemed to be the spark that detonated his final, fraying reserves of patience.

Soshiro moved with liquid grace and unanticipated speed, finally releasing his hold only to redirect his hands in blurring arcs that allowed no counter or evasion. One second you were straining against his restraints, mouth open on another heated rejoinder — the next, you'd been twisted and slammed back against the nearest bulkhead with brutal, jarring force.

The air punched free from your lungs in an explosive gust, leaving you gaping in mute shock at the speed of his assault. Soshiro loomed over you now, forearm braced across your chest in an unbreakable bar of corded muscle and virile strength, one thigh shoved between your splayed ones to lock you in a helpless full-body cage.

"Ya fucking insolent, arrogant brat," he hissed through gritted teeth, trembling with the sheer force of his restrained fury. You could feel every rapacious inhale, every shudder vibrating through him as he struggled to restrain the final dregs of control. "I don't give a damn that ya got lucky, sweetheart..."

Soshiro leaned in closer, eliminating the final precious slivers of personal space until his nose nearly brushed your own, until all that filled your addled senses was the overwhelming musk of his anger surrounding you, consuming you utterly.

"I'm gonna ensure yer willful idiocy never jeopardizes what's mine again," he growled in a tone edged with lethal promise, eyes locked with yours in a final duel of wills. "Startin' by reminding ya exactly who calls the shots around here."

The threat hung heavy between you, tension so thick you could practically choke on it. Your hands were balled into fists, nails digging crescents into your palms with how hard you were clenching them. The urge to lash out, to throw one final barbed insult was almost overwhelming, consequences be damned.

So you gave in, any rational thought consumed by the raging wildfire of anger and adrenaline blazing through your veins. "Fuck you," you spat, putting every ounce of venom and derision you could muster behind the two simple words.

That was it - the final straw that severed his taut grip on control. You saw it in the way his pupils blew wide, swallowing up those blazing crimson irises in a yawning void of heated fury. A harsh breath hissed out between his gritted teeth as his body went taut like a bowstring pulled to its maximum tension.

Then with a feral growl that reverberated straight to your bones, Soshiro surged forward and crashed his mouth against yours in a searing, branding kiss. But it wasn't gentle or tender — no, this was all pent-up aggression and unleashed hunger given free rein.

His teeth nipped at your lips with stinging force, drawing a sharp gasp that his questing tongue instantly occupied. You gave as good as you got, hands fisting in the front of his uniform to yank him closer as you bit at his lower lip hard enough to draw copper on your tongue.

Soshiro's growl transformed into something darker, richer, as your wrestling rapidly devolved into a primal give and take of dominance. Whenever he tried to slant his mouth and deepen the frenzied kiss, you'd buck your hips against his solid weight to throw him off-balance again.

His big hands were everywhere—tangling in your hair to angle your head, skimming over your waist and the flare of your hips, squeezing with possessive force. You could barely draw breath between the slick slide of your joined mouths, harsh pants and lewd smacks mingling in the supercharged air.

This was rawer, messier and infinitely more satisfying than any carefully orchestrated seduction could be. No, this was desire stripped down to its most base, primal core — all pretense and propriety discarded like tattered rags in the wake of you both finally giving in.

When you finally wrenched your mouth free with a gasp, Soshiro's eyes were heavy-lidded and glazed with naked hunger. His lips were reddened and spit-slick, hair awry where your hands had fisted through the strands.

"Ya try that stubborn martyr bullshit one more time, sweetheart," he rasped in that low, gravel-rough tone that never failed to make you shiver. "And next time I won't be playin' so nice..."

Those last three words were practically rolled across his tongue with how much dark, molten promise they contained. You felt a fresh spark of fiery arousal flare brighter at the implicit threat, chest heaving as your lips curved in a smirk of defiant invitation.

"Is that so?" you all but purred, dragging your nails down over the slope of his shoulders deliberately. "I'd pay to see you try keeping that in check..."

The only answer was Soshiro's low, rumbling chuckle as he swooped back in to seal your taunting lips in another searing, messy clash of tongues and teeth and relentless, glorious hunger.

Soshiro didn't waste any more time with words. With a low snarl vibrating against your swollen lips, he banded one powerful arm around your waist and simply lifted, hauling you up against his solid weight effortlessly.

You gasped at the sudden movement, legs instinctively winding around his hips as he pinned you against the nearest bulkhead. Soshiro took full advantage, angling his hips to grind against your clothed pussy with delicious friction that had you keening softly into the heated cavern of his mouth.

"Still runnin' that smart mouth, baby?" he rumbled after dragging his lips away, leaving a hot trail of nipping kisses along the thrumming pulse at your throat. "Need to learn to show some fuckin' respect..."

With that, Soshiro spun on his heel and began forcibly carting you down the corridor like a rutting beast claiming its prize. You didn't bother stifling your breathless laughter at his caveman antics, fingers tunneling through his sweat-dampened hair to yank his head back.

"Put me down this instant, you arrogant, over-muscled—"

The rest of your taunt dissolved into a startled squeak as Soshiro abruptly pivoted and slammed you back-first against the nearest surface. The wind rushed from your lungs in an explosive gust, leaving you blinking stupidly as you refocused on his blazing glare mere inches away.

"You were saying, Platoon Leader?" The way Soshiro all but spat out your title was blatantly mocking. His palm pressed insistently against your sternum as he slowly leaned in, each rasping inhalation gusting across your tingling lips. "Pretty sure it was somethin' about respectin' yer superiors..."

You opened your mouth to fire back a scathing retort, but Soshiro's free hand whipped up to fist in your hair, wrenching your head back at a sharp angle as he sealed his lips over your parted ones in a scorching brand of possession. Any words dissolved into desperate, needy whimpers against the molten slide of his tongue claiming every inch as undisputed territory.

When he finally tore away with a rasping groan, you were left trembling and light-headed from the sheer intensity of it all. Soshiro's lips curved in a slow, predatory slash of dark promise as his free hand skimmed down your side to palm over the curve of your hip with shameless appreciation.

"That's better..." he rumbled in that sinful baritone utterly saturated with sin and naked masculine satisfaction. "Think I prefer having that pretty mouth occupied with better uses for now."

His fingers squeezed purposefully against your flesh in emphasis. You couldn't quite stifle the tiny mewl of purely visceral need that slipped free at the subtle dominance play.

Soshiro tsked softly, somehow managing to layer the simple sound with undisguised derision. "So fuckin' needy, aren't ya baby? Don't worry..."

With that, he ducked his head to rasp the words directly against the heated hollow beneath your ear, sending a cascading shudder of expectant tingles across your hyper-aware nerves.

"I'm gonna take such good care of puttin' that greedy little mouth to proper use once we're somewhere more... private."

The heavy pause and emphasis he placed on that final word resonated straight to your pussy in a thrumming promise-slash-threat. You couldn't even formulate a response before Soshiro's mouth was crashing down over yours once more in a searing, breathtaking conflagration.

This time there was no struggle, no battle for dominance beyond your complete, unconditional surrender. You simply clung to Soshiro with a breathy mewl as he backed you through a doorway, devouring every pleased rumble and husky groan passing between your joined mouths with utter desperation. You caught brief glimpses of passing officers gaping at their Vice Captain brazenly manhandling his girlfriend, but the heat searing through your veins made you utterly uncaring of any scandalized looks.

Something solid bumped against the back of your thighs, not that it slowed Soshiro's relentless advance in the slightest. He simply lifted and deposited you on the awaiting surface without ever breaking the heated exchange.

Then his hands were roaming with purposeful possession — carding through your hair to angle your head for deeper plundering, skimming over the swell of your breasts with sublime friction, palming along the flare of your hipbones to hitch you closer to the edge. You gasped when his questing fingers trailed across the taut fabric straining over your nipples, hips bucking instinctively as his fingertips tweaked and rolled the sensitive buds through the clinging material.

You finally managed to wrench your mouth free with a ragged gasp, struggling to draw a steadying breath. But Soshiro seemed to take that as a challenge, immediately dropping his attention to your throat instead. He latched on to the wildly thrumming pulse point at the curve of your shoulder, his fangs piercing your skin with just enough force to leave a perfect ring of marks.

You couldn't stifle the needy whimper that slipped free at the exquisite combination of pleasure-pain. Soshiro's responding growl sent fresh sparks of tingling heat straight to your aching core, making your hips roll instinctively against the rock-hard bulge of his cock straining his pants.

"You have no fucking clue what that stubborn attitude does to me," he groaned, sounding utterly wrecked already. Soshiro's hips surged against yours with a rough, uncontrolled snap. "No goddamn idea how hard I get hearin' ya mouth off, so fuckin' confident and bratty, like no one could ever dare lay a finger on ya..."

He punctuated the words with a sharp nip at the hinge of your jaw, then a teasing tug on the lobe of your ear. You felt the heat of his smile curve against the heated column of your throat, the bastard.

"Ya like being such a spoiled princess, huh?" Soshiro all but purred, his tone edged with that familiar hint of mocking arrogance that never failed to make your pussy clench in anticipation. "Always gettin' what ya want, how ya want it..."

Before you could even begin formulating a retort, Soshiro had wrenched away and was yanking the zipper down on his pants. You felt your mouth go dry at the sight of his thick, straining cock jutting out proudly from the vee of his open uniform, tip glistening with pearlescent beads of precum.

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips on instinct, and Soshiro's eyes darkened further at the action. His voice emerged in a husky rasp, the sound so deliciously filthy you felt it like a tangible stroke across your skin.

"Well, not this time. I’m about to make good on all those promises to fuck some respect into ya, sweetheart. So go on - open that smart mouth and suck my cock."

His tone was pure sin, dripping with dark promise and filthy intent. You felt your entire body flush with molten arousal, pussy clenching as he fisted a hand in your hair and tugged firmly, hauling you off the desk to kneel at his feet.

"Soshiro, I swear to god, if you think I'm gonna—"

But the rest of your protests died on a strangled gasp as Soshiro all but slapped the heavy length of his cock against your parted lips. The tang of his salty essence flooded your tastebuds, making your mouth water as he gave a shallow roll of his hips and smeared a streak of precum along your cheek.

"Ya can drop the act now, baby," he bit out, voice low and gravelly with raw desire. Soshiro's crimson eyes were nearly eclipsed by the sheer force of his hunger, a muscle ticking along his clenched jawline. "We both know how much of a cockslut you are - ya don’t gotta pretend like you're not dyin' to have this cock stretchin' yer pretty little throat?"

His words sent another surge of arousal through your veins, a rush of liquid heat pooling in your core and leaking from your pussy to stain your panties. You couldn't deny the way your heart stuttered at the way he was looking down at you, the sheer intensity of his gaze searing straight to your soul.

"So go ahead and admit it," he practically growled, giving your hair a yank and thrusting his hips forward to slide his cockhead across your cheek in a humiliatingly obscene display. "You’re nothing but a selfish brat, always needing something to fill up that smart mouth..."

His other hand fisted tighter in the roots, forcing your head back further until your eyes watered and throat worked reflexively. You couldn't suppress the tiny gasp that slipped free at the rough treatment, making his cock twitch against your parted lips in a silent demand.

"Say it, slut," Soshiro ground out, eyes narrowing in warning as they bored into yours. "Ya can’t fool me. Not after I’ve seen exactly how well that pretty little mouth takes my cock..."

The memory of all the times he'd fucked your mouth, the way he'd ruthlessly pinned you down and pumped his cock deep in your throat until tears streamed down your cheeks and you coughed and gasped for air flashed behind your eyes. Just the recollection of how he'd made you choke on his cum was enough to have your thighs clenching instinctively, pussy growing even slicker with each filthy demand.

"Go on, say it." His tone dropped lower, rougher with a hint of warning. "Ya can either do it now, or I'll fuck that disobedient attitude right out of ya the hard way."

With that, Soshiro hauled you up by his grip on your hair until his cockhead bumped against your lips once more, eyes narrowing. A thrill of mingled arousal and trepidation sparked through your veins, sending a rush of molten need straight to your clenching core.

But still, you forced yourself to lift your chin in stubborn defiance, glaring up at him with all the force of your ire.

"Go to hell," you spat with venomous disdain.

You were barely able to smirk in victory before you felt his fingers wrench your jaw open, the sudden movement sending a spike of pain-edged pleasure down your spine. Then Soshiro was slamming his cock between your lips, the force of it nearly choking you with how sudden and brutal the action was.

"That's what I thought," he muttered, but his tone was far from annoyed. If anything, the gravel-rough rasp was laced with a heavy undercurrent of satisfaction and pure, undisguised hunger.

You blinked back the haze of unshed tears as he shoved deeper, not pausing until the swollen tip was nudging the back of your throat and your nose was pressed against the neatly trimmed hairs at the base. Only then did he finally allow himself a ragged groan of pleasure, the sound nearly a sigh of pure relief.

"Ya know, baby, you look so much better like this," he taunted, rolling his hips to slide his cock a fraction deeper before retreating in a slick glide that had you swallowing back a moan. "When you're finally doing what you're best at - taking my cock and shuttin' that smart mouth up..."

Soshiro punctuated his statement by thrusting in again, not pausing as his fingers twisted cruelly in the roots. He kept his pace slow and shallow at first, clearly savoring the way you were struggling to suck him off and breathe around the thick length filling your throat.

He held you there until your vision began to blur and a whine built in the back of your throat, then finally allowed you to suck in a ragged gasp as he drew back. His cockhead was a deep, glistening purple, slick with spit and precum.

You opened your mouth to snark back, but the words died on a breathy gasp as Soshiro fisted his hand in your hair and yanked your head back sharply. A low, husky chuckle rumbled from his chest as he slowly dragged the swollen head along the seam of your lips, his eyes locked with yours.

"So pretty when you cry," he purred, swiping his cock over your lower lip. You couldn't quite stifle the tiny mewl of desperate arousal the action drew, which only seemed to amuse Soshiro even further.

"I could watch ya suck my cock for hours," he mused, eyes flashing darkly as he dragged his free hand over his cock and smeared the precum pooling at the tip across your lips. "But maybe… I'd rather finish in that greedy little pussy, instead..."

Soshiro didn't bother waiting for your reaction, merely tightened his grip on your hair and hauled you up until your legs buckled and you stumbled onto the desk behind you. He crowded in, pushing your thighs wide apart with his own before his hands slid down to yank your uniform down your hips.

You didn't have a chance to even process the fact that he'd stripped you naked in mere seconds, leaving you clad in nothing but the sweat-dampened tank top you wore beneath the uniform. Your mouth went dry as his hands dropped lower, spreading your pussy apart with calloused fingers before ducking his head and pressing his lips against the soaked folds.

"My girl's so ready for my cock, huh?" he purred, the sound almost drowned out by the obscene slurping noise that sounded as his tongue delved into your dripping cunt. You couldn't hold back the whimper of pleasure that escaped at the sensation, and Soshiro responded with a low chuckle.

"Such a sloppy little cunt," he taunted, nipping at the swollen clit until you keened desperately. "All this slick leaking out of you, baby, and I haven't even put a finger inside."

You flushed hotly at the blatant degradation, unable to bite back the instinctive gasp of embarrassment and pleasure. But Soshiro seemed intent on driving the humiliation home, teeth latching onto your clit and sucking hard until you couldn't help bucking against his mouth, desperate for more.

"Fuck," you groaned, tossing your head back as the tension began winding tighter in your core, threatening to snap at any second. "Soshiro, please, I need—"

He pulled back abruptly, the abrupt loss of friction wrenching a strangled whine from the back of your throat. It took all your willpower to peel your eyes open and meet his gaze, and when you did, you felt your core clench at the blatant heat that burned in his gaze.

"Ya think ya deserve my cock after the stunt you pulled today?" he drawled, one eyebrow quirking upward mockingly. "Ya nearly got every member of your squad killed, and yer still so damn cocky about it all. Think ya deserve anything beyond the tip of my finger?"

Soshiro punctuated the question with a single digit, sliding it through your slick folds and teasing it over your hole until you were panting and rolling your hips, desperate for more. "Luckily for you , though, I'm not here to teach you a lesson, baby. No..."

He trailed off as he slowly slid his finger inside, eyes darkening as he watched the way you arched against the desk with a needy whine. He crooked the digit, teasing against your most sensitive spot until your hips bucked and pussy clenched tight, chasing the release he'd so cruelly denied.

"I'm here to fuck some respect into ya."

Soshiro pulled back just as abruptly, and the frustrated cry that left your lips was downright embarrassing. But then his hands were tearing at his uniform, yanking the shirt open and shrugging the material aside until his gorgeous chest was on full display, rippling with each huffing breath.

You watched in mute awe, feeling your pulse skyrocket and pussy clench around the sudden emptiness as he shoved his pants down to pool around his ankles, kicking the clothing aside. He fisted a hand around his cock and tugged, groaning raggedly at the contact.

"I haven’t felt that tight cunt in weeks," he growled, his free hand landing on the table beside your hip with a thud. "Been jerkin' off every night to the memory of this pussy squeezing my cock, but nothing's gonna compare to the real thing..."

He surged forward and sealed his lips over yours in a brutal kiss, swallowing the breathless cry as he lined the fat head up against your entrance and snapped his hips forward. The stretch was delicious, and you couldn't help moaning into his mouth as he bottomed out.

"That's better," Soshiro groaned, breaking away just far enough to speak against your lips. "So much better than my goddamn fist, fuckin' finally..."

He didn't waste any time, pulling back and thrusting in again in a punishing rhythm that had you seeing stars. There was no time for adjustment, no chance to savor the initial feeling of having him buried to the hilt. Instead, Soshiro set a relentless pace, hips pistoning back and forth in a series of deep, measured thrusts.

He broke away from your mouth, and you gasped for breath as his lips blazed a trail down the column of your throat. Soshiro's hands were everywhere, stroking and squeezing and groping at every inch of your body as he fucked you without abandon.

"You’re droolin' all over my cock, sweetheart," he taunted, teeth scraping at the hinge of your jaw. "Bet ya pulled that stunt just to get my attention, huh?"

His voice was a low growl against your throat, lips curving into a smirk against your skin. "Didn't realize ya were so desperate for me, baby..."

"No," you gasped, trying desperately to cling to some semblance of control, some way to regain the upper hand. "I didn't even know you were coming—"

"That's a fuckin' lie," Soshiro spat, snapping his hips harder. His pace was relentless, the thick girth of his cock filling you perfectly with each punishing stroke. "Ya knew I was due back today, knew I'd have no choice but to deal with yer bratty ass myself, and ya pulled that bullshit on purpose..."

He punctuated his point with a particularly sharp thrust, making your breath hitch. Soshiro didn't pause, didn't let you catch a break. He was fucking you into the desk like an animal, and the worst part was — it was working.

"I'm done letting ya pull this shit," he snarled, teeth biting into the slope of your shoulder. The sharp flare of pain sent a fresh surge of liquid heat pulsing from your core. "I'm done letting ya risk your neck every goddamn mission, not knowing if yer gonna come home or wind up in a fuckin' body bag."

His hand landed on your thigh and shoved it wider, the new angle allowing him to sink impossibly deeper. You couldn't choke back the needy moan at the new sensations, the way the heavy slap of his balls against your ass mingled with the lewd squelching noises of his cock slamming into your soaked pussy.

"You became mine the day ya kissed me back," Soshiro ground out, his words a low growl that made your blood run molten in your veins. "And if ya can't keep yourself in line, sweetheart, I'll make sure yer too busy suckin' my cock to go anywhere near the fuckin' field."

His hand tangled in the roots of your hair, twisting to wrench your head back and bare your throat in a helpless arc. Soshiro's fangs descended, the tips digging into the soft flesh beneath your ear as he growled directly against the shell.

"Gonna knock you up if I have to."

You gasped at the filthy words, but they only served to heighten the building sensations. You felt your pussy fluttering around his cock as his hips slapped against yours, his pace growing more uncoordinated as his own peak drew nearer.

"Maybe then ya'll understand exactly why I want to keep you safe, baby." His words were a rasp against your neck, his lips blazing a trail of molten heat against your skin. "Why I can't stand the thought of losing ya, no matter how damn reckless ya are. You're the most stubborn, arrogant, selfish woman I've ever met..."

His free hand dipped between your bodies, teasing along the taut expanse of your belly until it came to rest on your hip. Then he leaned forward, putting his entire weight behind the next thrust, and you cried out as he hit a spot that had sparks dancing behind your eyelids.

"You're also the best — ngh — goddamn thing that's ever happened to me," he finished with a groan, and you were so shocked by the unexpected confession you didn't even have a chance to reply before he was crashing his lips over yours again, stealing your breath and any coherent thoughts along with it.

The next few thrusts had the tension in your core coiling tighter, tighter, until you were practically thrashing against the desk, pinned in place by the force of his strength and the solid weight of his cock stretching your pussy wide. You were close, so fucking close, but Soshiro didn't seem to be showing any signs of slowing down.

In fact, he only seemed to be fucking you harder, with sharper thrusts that were rapidly pushing you toward the edge. You clung to his shoulders, nails biting into the tanned flesh as you whimpered and writhed and struggled to maintain even the slightest scrap of self-control.

"C'mon, baby," he purred, his mouth trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down the arch of your neck. "I wanna feel that cunt milking my cock, sweetheart... Wanna feel ya gush all over my cock while I'm pumping ya full, just like I promised..."

It was too much, his words and the delicious drag of his cock stroking every sensitive nerve ending inside you. You couldn't bite back the sob that slipped free, couldn't hold out any longer as the coil wound to its breaking point.

"Please," you begged, voice cracking and breaking as the sensations overwhelmed you utterly. "Oh god, Soshiro, please, I'm—"

The rest dissolved into a ragged cry as the tension finally snapped, sending you plummeting over the edge. The orgasm hit you like a wave, flooding through your veins with a rush of searing heat as you shuddered and arched against his chest, spraying his cock with a gush of slick as he fucked you right through the pleasure.

"That’s my girl."

You felt Soshiro's groan reverberate against your lips as he thrust once, twice, three more times. Then his hips slammed forward, pinning you flat against the desk as he bottomed out and came with a hoarse, ragged shout of completion.

His cum spurted against your womb in a rush of hot liquid, filling your pussy so full it leaked out around the straining thickness of his cock. You felt yourself clench and pulse around the sensation, riding the aftershocks of your own peak.

Soshiro finally sagged above you, forehead dropping against your collarbone as he panted for breath. You blinked dazedly, struggling to clear the stars still flashing across your vision.

The two of you remained locked together, unmoving save for the erratic rise and fall of your chests. Gradually, you became aware of Soshiro's fingers carding through your hair, smoothing the sweat-damp strands back from your temple as he pressed a trail of soft, gentle kisses along the slope of your shoulder.

When you finally regained enough energy to lift your head, Soshiro was already waiting, leaning in to press a kiss to your mouth that was achingly tender. It was such a sharp contrast to the way he'd manhandled and fucked you mere minutes ago, and the juxtaposition of it all was almost enough to make you dizzy.

You felt him hook an arm around your shoulder to gently ease you upright, keeping his other arm braced against the desk for balance. The two of you were a complete mess, clothes torn and sweat-soaked, and his cock was still half-hard inside you.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

His tone was low, rough, and so, so tender you felt your heart constrict at the sound. Soshiro's expression was soft, almost vulnerable, and he didn't hesitate to cup your jaw and press a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips.

"I mean, besides the obvious." He gave a slight roll of his hips, making you gasp as his cock twitched and pulsed inside your overstimulated pussy. Soshiro chuckled, the sound edged with dark promise.

"I meant what I said earlier," he added, his tone serious as he met your eyes once more. "I don't think I've ever been more scared in my life than when I heard what happened, and that was before I realized what a stupid, selfish little brat I have for a girlfriend."

Your mouth dropped open, and Soshiro immediately seized the opportunity, claiming your lips in a searing kiss. When he finally pulled back, you couldn't stop the small whine that escaped, and his eyes glittered with mischief and pure masculine satisfaction.

"We're gonna be having another conversation about your behavior, though," he continued, his voice dipping lower as his eyes darkened further. "Preferably with a paddle and my belt around your neck. But for now..."

He pulled back, slipping his softening cock from your abused cunt and drawing a whine of disappointment at the loss. Before you could protest, Soshiro was scooping you into his arms and turning to carry you across the room.

"For now," he murmured, pressing his lips to the crown of your head in a soft kiss, "Let's just get ya cleaned up and tucked into bed. And then..."

He glanced down, the look in his eyes making you shiver in anticipation.

"And then I’ll be waking you up in the morning the way I know you love best."

#this ain’t proofread yet #kaiju 8 x reader smut #kaiju 8 smut #kaiju 8 x reader #kaijuu no. 8 x reader #kaijuu no. 8 #kaijuu 8 #kaijuu 8 gou #hoshina smut #hoshina x reader smut #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro smut #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina #hoshina x reader #soshiro x reader smut #soshiro smut #soshiro x reader

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lure-of-writing · 5 months

Text

His little Sister: I'm sorry

Summary: The mating bond between you and Azriel has been revealed and he isn't sure if any apology will ever make up for the hurt he has cause you.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: none that I know of

Authors note: Guys I just got my nails done so if there is typos it's because I'm not used to typing with daggers on my hands. But anyways that's not what we're here for. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Azriel was screwed. Royally screwed. Even as the spymaster of the night court he had no idea how he was going to get out of this one unscathed. First and foremost there was you. You were the mosting important thing in this giant mess that your cousin just caused and making sure you were ok was his first priority. That is once you inevitably get all of the hurt and betrayal out of your system. He could feel your emotions barrelling down the bond and it damn near made him crumple under the weight of your hurt. Next on the list of casualties was Rhysand. And by the look on the high lord's face it was a mixture of pure unfiltered anger and the need to protect his little sister. Azriel can’t blame him, you look like you could either rip him to shreds and bawl your eyes out while doing so.

Rationally Azriel knew that Rhys would never really do anything to hurt him but the other part knew that Rhysand played dirty when it came to his family and it was some sort of unwritten rule that he would go to the end of the world to make sure you were ok. If Rhysand played dirty before he was about to get filthy now. This would not be the first time he stepped toe to toe against a high lord, specifically against Rhys, but this time would without a doubt be different. This time Rhysand would pocket away all of the years of their friendship and in turn he would fight Azriel like a traitor. He, without trying, had broken your heart and betrayed your trust. To Rhysand this was the ultimate act of betrayal.

Only being one hundred years younger than your brother means all three males were also relatively young in the grand scheme of things. Rhysand held your tiny body against his. The three males had taken a break forming training in the mountains to visit you in Velaris. It wasn’t often Rhysand was allowed to leave the camps, much less often for Azriel and Cassian. But with the arrival of a new babe they had been permitted to leave. It became a tradition to visit the ever growing babe once a year. Somewhere in the chaos of training for the Blood Rite you had grown into a teenager. Cassian was sprawled out on one of the couches in the cabin and Azirel had taken his place in the chair that was unofficially deemed as his. There in a seat a little bit bigger than his own but yet still smaller than the couch Cassian claimed you were curled up against your older brother, peacefully sleeping.

Rhysand had always disliked the way things were run in the camps, oftentimes they made his blood boil but something changed in him the day you were born. Rhys knew from a young age that he would be a protector. A protector of his friends, his family, his people and his court. But he never knew that the most precious thing he would come to protect was you. He never wanted in the camps, walking amongst those who would take any opportunity to clip your wings or even kill you without a second thought. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do to stop your visit as your father deemed it necessary.

Silence was light in the room. Occasionally there was a pop or crackle from the fire, the sound of clothes shifting against the couch from Cassian and the light noise of you breathing. With a heavy sigh Rhys rubbed his face causing both males to look at their friend in confusion. “Something on your mind brother?” Cassian's deep voice filled the once quiet room. For a moment nothing was said as Rhysand just looked deep into the fire before once again sighing and rubbing his face before throwing his head back to rest on the couch. “What if I’m not capable of protecting her?” The two males looked at each other in confusion before turning their attention back on their friend. Everyone knew that the power Rhys possessed was quite frankly, insane, to put it simply. “Rhys, I think you're forgetting you are there, bud.” Once more Cassian's voice takes over the room. This time in a gentle laughter. “It’s not that I’m unaware of what I am capable of.” Rhys stops speaking as he looks down at your resting form laying against him. Gently he moves a piece of hair that had fallen in your face. “I know what I can do. What I am willing to do to keep her safe but I will not always be around to protect her and that is what I fear.”

“Being her brother is the greatest honor I have ever been given but what if I fail? What will it cost her? Just her being here possesses a threat to her life. Those males out there would not hesitate to clip her wings or flat out kill her. What happens when I am needed elsewhere and she is in trouble? Who will save her then? I know my mother is training her to fight but I never want her to be put in that position where she has to. Making sure she is safe, happy and loved is all I want for her. I never want her to experience the world we have endured.”

Neither males have a sister but they do have the love of siblings for each other and they know the lengths they would go to for the other males. They may not know what it's like to have a sibling but they do know what it's like to love you. Since the day you were born they have done nothing but love and dote on you. If you tripped and fell and scraped your knees Cassian would scoop you up and cradle you until you stopped crying. Only then would he set you somewhere where he could properly clean the cuts littering your body and then take you for a treat to make you feel better. Azriel would help you with any of the boring assignments your mother would hand out. “I don’t even know what this means!” you would groan out in frustration before dramatically letting your head fall face first into the book. Luckly Az knew you very well. Without looking up from what he was doing he placed his hand palm up in the book and waited for the impact of your head against his hand.

Finally once your head was in his hand, did he finally look up. “You may not understand it right now but eventually you will and you will be grateful your mother made you do this.” Groaning once more you left your head where it was. “Easy for you to say you're like a genius or something.” You grumble while Azriel lifts your head for you. Gently he pats the top of your head. “Maybe if you studied more you could be one too.” A mixture of a frustrated groan and sigh made its way through your lips causing Azriel to chuckle.

It was safe to say that they understood what a light you are in the world. In their world. And each male would do anything to protect it. “You know we would protect her with our lives, right?” Cassian now sat up on the couch. This conversation was important. “We have known her since the day she was born. We have watched her grow and reach each millstone just like you have Rhys. We would never let anything happen to her. If it were my life or hers, I would happily give up mine. I’m sure Az feels the same way.” And Azriel did. “You don’t have to worry about her by yourself. We can share the worry Rhys. You know you can count on us. If anything ever happens to you, we will protect her just as fiercely as you do. You know that right?” And Rhysand did in fact know that but there would always be some part of him that thinks only he will ever be able to do a good enough job at keeping you safe.

Apparently Rhysand was right. Only he would protect you. Azriel had broken his promise and now he would pay. Next on his list of people to deal with was Morrigian. At the moment she was not a priority but eventually would be. First he needed to survive the night.

If Azriel were to go back in time less than a week ago, he would have been more or less avoiding you. After his talk with Rhysand about the more interesting part of your relationship the shadowsinger thought it would be a good idea to give you some space, not wanting it to seem like he was trying to pursue something with you. Obviously that was the exact opposite of what he wanted but he was also keenly aware of your brother's disapproval of any male you chose to date. Azriel was sure he wouldn’t fare better than the others. On the other side Azriel truly had no idea how you would react to you being his mate and that terrified him.

He hadn’t seen you much since the training incident with Cassian. As much as it bothered him to not be able to check on your healing himself he had Cassian right there basically giving me second by second updates. Which he did appreciate but since Cassian knew you were his brother's mate he was being a little over the top. Which is why Azriel was not expecting to see you on the rooftop for the daily morning training session.

Az and his shadows watched from across the room as Cass ushered you back towards the house. That was until you saw him and course corrected to be right in front of him. “You’ve been avoiding me. Why?” The hurt in your voice made him feel like a terrible person but he also couldn’t give you the real answer why. Not right now and definitely not right here. “I haven’t been avoiding you.” He knew he was whispering but he also knew there were more listening ears then just yours, mainly Cassians. Azriel watched as Cassian scooped you up and walked back to where he was herding you, just moments before you veered off on your own.

As the shadowsinger and spymaster of the night court there wasn’t much, if anything, that made him nervous. The piercing stare of your gaze following his every move was definitely unsettling. But his male ego wouldn’t let him slip into that unflinching state of mind that he would usually find himself in when sparring. Now he was keenly aware of each move he was making while in front of you. His need to impress didn’t go unnoticed by his brother. Thankfully Cassian decided to have mercy on his soul and let him get in a few good punches as his repayment for when Cassian did the same to him while in front of Nesta.

The daily sparring session was over sooner and also later then he wanted it to be. One part of him wanted to continue to impress you, even if he wasn’t a hundred percent sure that you were even impressed in the first place. The other part of him just really wants to get the awaiting conversation over with. Azriel headed over the bench where his long forgotten shirt and water bottle had been previously placed. He had barely gotten in one drink of water when you appeared in front of him. “Why have you been avoiding me?” It was the same question that you had previously asked him before being dragged away by Cassian. And yet this time it made him even more nervous then the first time you had asked him. The last thing Azriel ever wanted to do was make you feel like he didn’t want to be around you. Even before the bond he wanted to be around you every chance he could get and you knew that. He needed a reason you would believe. A downfall that came with spending all of his spare time with you is that you were able to tell when he was lying better than anyone else in the inner circle. There was only one thing he could tell you that wasn’t the full truth nor a complete lie. Rhys wasn’t a fan of the relationship, or lack thereof, between the two of us and he needed to step back in respect for Rhysand.

Thankfully the mother was on his side that morning because you believed him.

Opening up his arms in a form of some peace offering he’s quickly wrapped in your arms. Even though hugging anyone who was sweaty was something that he knew drove you crazy you did it anyways and it warmed his heart. But watching you place your chin on top of his chest just about made his heart melt. He prayed that you wouldn’t be able to feel or hear just how fast his heart is beating, and it is not from the training.

Oh how Azriel wished he could go back in time to just a few days ago. Hell he would even go back to when he was avoiding you. Truthfully anything would be better than what was currently unraveling in front of him.

“How long have you known?” Azriel tore his eyes away from Morr to look at you. The look of heartbreak that painted your face was like a suckerpunch to his gut. He took a sharp breath in. You were always stunning in Azriels eyes but looking at you now was like looking like a fallen angel. As much as the poetic beauty was undeniable he also never wanted to see that look on your face again. He would do anything to make you trust him again.

“I-” Azriel didn’t realize just how dry his throat was until he tried speaking. Actually now that he was focused on his body he was pretty sure he felt like he was going to throw up. Swallowing he takes another deep breath. A quick glance to his right reveals Rhysand with a raised eyebrow and barely contained anger. “I’ve known since the war.” Azriel always imagined this moment would be very different. Just the two of you in private. And it would finally feel like a brick being lifted off of his chest.

But watching your reaction to his confession felt like the opposite. He watched as you blew out a heavy breath and grabbed the back of Morrigians chair for support. Looking at the look he watches a tear finally free itself and makes its way to the ground. Just as quickly as the first tear had fallen the rest had also followed suit. He watches as you shake your head and look at your brother for the answer of what you are supposed to do. The dining room had never been as quiet as it was in these waking moments and Azriel despised it. Even if he was the cause of it. “You’ve known for almost a year and you never told me?” The spymaster watched as you fought against the lump in your throat only for your voice to crack on the last word. “Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to let me continue to dream about the love I desired. Let me think I was never going to get the love Rhys and Fey have? You’ve known for months!” Azriel sat unmoving as your betrayal turned to sadness and then anger. You had never raised your voice and yelled at him before but he knew he deserved every ounce of anger you threw at him. “You-you out of all people knew how I felt about mates and yet you held this from me. My mate! I-I-I -oh my god.” Time seemed to slow down in that moment as he watched you grab your chest in pain then collapse to the floor. He felt himself rise. Azriel wasn’t sure why, was it to move to the other side of the table and comfort you? Was it in shock? Fear for your breaking heart? He wasn’t sure. It was like slow motion as Mor swiftly twisted out of her seat and caught your limp body on the way down to the floor. Together the two females sat on the floor. Morrigian had wrapped her arms around your body and held you pressed against her chest as you sobbed.

“Azriel!” That was the commanding voice of a high lord. The force of which Rhysand said his name and allowed his power to wash over him was the only thing capable of pulling his focus off of your crumpled body. Looking back to his right he notes that Rhysand has pushed the chair he was previously sitting in far behind him. It didn’t go unnoticed how Feyre made her way to you with urgency. The primal anger and need to protect his family also didn’t go unnoticed by the shadowsinger. He was about to get his ass beat. If not altogether killed. Rhysand may have been mad at Cassian for hurting you but he did go easy on him, even if it resulted in a few nasty bruises littering his body. Azriel knew for sure this would be nothing like that time. Rhysand had a look of death in his eyes and Azriel was sure death was waiting to greet him.

“Uh oh. Yeah you guys may want to get out of here it's about to get ugly.” Cassian also stood from where he was once seated and began stretching. Noting Feyres' worry Cassian continued “Don’t worry I won’t let them hurt each other too much.” He paused, “Well I won’t let them kill each other.”

Only after everyone except Mor and Cassian had winnowed away his Rhysand lunge at Azriel.

Ever since learning that you were his mate one of his shadows followed you religiously. He never even told them to do that, it was just something they did naturally. His shadows always were ones to keep an eye on you even if you were completely safe.

That's how he found himself in front of the river house. His shadows danced around him in warning of the two females sitting in the living room still awake at this hour. Without looking at a clock Azriel would assume it was around three in the morning. Gently he pushes the hard oak door open only closing it after allowing himself inside the quiet house. Azriel knew he could make his way to your room without either one of the females knowing but he assumed it was better to get everything that could tear him apart over with while he was down.

“I feel bad for her. I know what it's like when the other person knows they're your mate and you're left in the dark. But this is something else. If Mor hadn’t said anything would he?” He could hear the voice of his concerned high lady. “Do we know if she even still has a mate? Rhysand looked like he was going to kill him.” Nestas' voice that usually dripped in sarcasm was dry as bone. Stepping into the room he made his footsteps louder than he would ever step to announce his presence. A sharp gasp was the only noise that Feyre made as she brought her hands to cover her mouth. “Oh my gods” The scraping of the chair against the wooden floor pulls his gaze from the spot on the floor he found particularly interesting to see Feyre making her way over to him. Over her shoulder he could see Nesta taking inventory of the damage Rhysand caused. “Are you ok?” He shrugs off her question but allows her gentle hands to move his head from side to side.

“How is she?” Everybody knew who he was talking about. Feyre led him to the couch ushering him to sit down as Nesta answered “As well as you can expect.” Feyre had stepped out of the room to grab a pain relieving tonic “She just fell asleep a few minutes before you got here” she pushes the vial into his hands “Drink” she insists. “I never meant for it to go like this. For it to get this far without me telling her. I just was waiting for her to feel it herself but then I just kept waiting and waiting and waiting and the next thing I knew I was sitting at that table listening to Mor tell her. I promise I never meant to hurt her. You know that right? You have to believe me.” The constant throbbing throughout his body finally forced him to drink the tonic in hopes it could even touch the pain he was feeling. “I’m sure you never meant for this to happen az. But why didn’t you just tell her. Anyone with eyes could see that she already had feelings for you.’’

“I wanted it to be her choice. I would never force her to accept the bond. All I want is for her to be happy no matter what.” A heavy sigh fell from both females before the peaceful silence filled the room. Nesta was the first to leave in hopes of getting at least an hour of sleep before she needed to be awake for training. With a gentle squeeze of his arm Feyre stands above him “I Believe you Az. But you need to understand how hurt she is currently feeling.” looking up he sees not his high lady or Rhysands mate but a concerned friend. “I know I can feel it through the bond.” Feyre smiles sadly before stopping in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Go be with her Az. You both need it.”

The warmth of the fire was the first thing Azriel noticed upon entering your room. Although fae ran warmer than humans you were the rare exception. Unless absorbing heat from the sun or another person you were on average at least ten degrees colder than anyone else. A small smile found its away to his face to see the fire going. His own personal relationship with fire may be nonexistent but for you he would endure it a hundred times over. The next thing he noticed was your sniffling and quiet sobs. In three large strides he was kneeing besides your bed. “Y/n” you name was like a whisper of a prayer in a silent coven meant for worship. He watched as your eyes opened to meet his and listened as a sob racked your body. “I am so sorry baby” Quickly he raised from where he was previously knelt on the floor and climbed into bed with you. The move to place your body on top of his was easy but listening to the silent cries of your heart breaking wasn’t. “I never meant to hurt you I swear.”

Eventually the tears raining upon his chest and was replaced with the gentle breathing of your sleeping form. Azriel knew he should sleep but he couldn’t help but admire every part of you just in case this was the last time he got to hold you like this. That's why he wasn’t startled when Rhysand barged into your room, startling you awake. “I told you to stay away from her. I’m going to kill you.” He promised. Azriel didn’t take his eyes off of your brother as you raised to sit in between his legs. Rhysand could do whatever he wished but Azriel wouldn’t leave without making sure you were ok first. “Rhys don’t. You may be mad at him, but Azriel is my mate.” The bond had never sung in happiness like it did basking in the warmth of your acknowledgement.

Taglist

@kemillyfreitas @lana08 @willowpains @username199945 @tothestarsandwhateverend

@kylaisra @lilah-asteria @nickishadow139 @br0klynbby @blacktreacle22

@amysangel @mp-littlebit @mybestfriendmademe

@olive-main @mariahoedt @tele86 @marina468 @fangirlloza010 @kennedy-brooke

#acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst #azriel one shot #rhysand x sister!reader

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