#hes SO good and i am SO normal about him. truly

[offthepages]

And so, the stars aligned. Pt 6

Azriel x Archeron!sister Reader

Summary: Lunch with Tamlin goes about expected. And Azriel is a jealous man. Warnings: None!

Ageless and Minors DNI

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Masterlist

Requests are open! a/n: I forgot to link the dress and stuff for part five- and maybe it's cringe to do that. But I am cringe, and I am free... and very bad at describing clothing. So here's the dress, and makeup

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

After Tamlin, the ball was a blur. Truly, so much wine and dancing had your head spinning in a way that you had never experienced before. It left you feeling light as a feather, as giggly as a school girl. Much to the Inner Circle's delight because you found them hilarious. Cassian was making jokes left and right, making you laugh so hard you had to hold onto Azriel for stability. In your drunken state, you missed the way his gaze softened as he looked at you. Watching you with your sisters, which the only one who remained sober by the end of the night was Nesta. But Cassian drank in her stead. Leaving you Feyre, and him up to no good. However, Azriel hadn't let you leave his side since Tamlin had asked you to lunch. Even when you tried to lose him, his shadows were far more protective of you than he was. It was sweet to see the way the tendrils wrapped themselves around your waist and pulled you back into his side. You would look up at him with a pout. "Azriel!" You'd whine. "Tell them to let me go!"

He took a sip of his drink, trying to hide his smirk. "Sorry, princess. They have a mind of their own." He was even more satisfied when you looked at the shadows surrounding the two of you.

"You big meanies. I'm not gonna pet you if you keep acting up!" You drunkenly scolded. Azriel quirked an eyebrow when the shadows slithered away from your finger. Chuckling lowly, he wrapped his arm around your waist. And the Illyrian took pride in the way Tamlin's gaze hardened as he watched the two of you, He debated a gentle gasp as you reached one of your delicate hands reached up and touched his face. Pulling the shadowsingers gaze down. Watching you talk about something you just saw, learning that you were more observant than you let on.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

But now, he found himself arguing with a brick wall it seemed. “Y/n, I understand you have pure intentions but you can not sleep in my room.” He tried to explain softly, gently. His hands on your shoulders. Willing every part of him to behave because there was nothing he’d love more than to have you in his bed. Even just holding you for the night would make his heart soar. To be the last thing you saw, and the first thing.

“No!” You huff, arms crossed as you looked up at him. Rosey cheeks, your hair mused from dancing, your pout undeniably adorable. “I wanna sleep in here. Because you are nice, and you are warm! Mor snores!” You throw your hands up, loosing your balance as you flop onto the bed. “See the bed wants me here.”

Azriel laughs softly. Shaking his head, he knew he loved you. He really did. And normally he’d be flattered his mate was so sweet. But now, now it was an issue. Because he had to defy all of his primal tendencies to oblige your every wish. He scoops you up gently. Your head falling to his chest, lightly your fingers caress the tattoos of his that peak out. Azriel suppresses a shiver. “Come on princess. Let’s get you to bed.” He whispers, crossing the hallway. Earning snickers from the rest of his family. All of which he glared at, only stopping when he reached your room.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The morning was spent nursing your hang over. Feyre, you and Cassian curled up on the couch being babied by everyone. Well- Rhys, Azriel and Nesta. Azriel had even gone as far as giving you some of the headache powder he got from Elian. You could have kissed him.

But now, you were back in your bedroom getting ready for lunch with Tamlin. Nesta brushing your hair, and she was much less gentle than Feyre. She didn’t care about delicately brushing out the snarls, she would just shush you when you protested. But eventually your hair had been braided into one large braid down your back. Mor placed flowers in the braid as Nesta worked on your makeup again. Dolling you up, despite your protests. “Stop wriggling, Y/n.” Nesta chides as she grabs your chin to force you to look at her. You huff, “I don’t want to look good for Tamlin!” You protest again. Trying to move away before Nesta forces you back. Her blue/grey eyes looking at you with an intensity that would have made anyone else wither.

“You have too. Looking like a goddess while you chip away at his frail little ego will just make It hurt worse. And that’s what you want. You want him to know that he can’t have you. But this is what he’s missing.” She explains, barely giving you time to recover as she brushes on a light pink eyeshadow, adding a golden shimmer on top of it.

In the end, you wore a simple pink gown. Something that was sweet, innocent. Like the princesses in the fairytales you read with Azriel. Your shoulders laid bare, the sleeves were short- frilly. The sweetheart neckline doing little to hide your frame. The front corset, designed with small intricate roses on it. You spun, the dress poofing upwards. You hated to admit it. But you would be happy to break Tamlin’s heart in it. In this dress you looked as if you belonged in the Spring Court. So to deny his offer? It be poetic. Nesta wore a simple gown with you as well, her’s a more diluted green. She’d looked out of place next to the vibrant colors of the spring court. But you and your sister descended the stairs, everyone waiting for you once again. You smiling softly at all of them. Azriel’s eyes never left yours. You could have killed him, and he would have thanked you. Truthfully. You looked like a day dream walking down the stairs. Smiling at them like you weren’t about to walk into the lions den. He would have followed you blindly anywhere. Gladly. With pleasure.

“Are you ready?” Rhys looks at you with a strained smile. You give a little nod.

“As ready as I can. I can deny him again right?” You anxiously ask Rhys, you knew he wanted an alliance with Tamlin. And your brother in law might be a snake sometimes, but you were almost positive he wouldn’t force you on dates. Rhys shakes his head, “No. You won’t have to see him again after this. Unless you want to. And if words fail you again, that’s why you have Nesta.” He gives a nod to your older sister. Nesta takes your hand and gives a little squeeze.

Smiling appreciatively up at her, you felt ready to have this lunch. Tamlin wouldn’t get to you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“You look beautiful, Y/n.” Tamlin bows, taking your hand and placing a gentle kiss on it. You have to stop yourself from recoiling at his touch, but the cooling feeling of Azriel’s shadows wrapping around your ankles again helps calm you. Keep you grounded, quickly flicking your eyes up to where Azriel told you he’d be- tucked away in the shadows of the garden. You smiled. The shadows gave you a gentle squeeze back. Azriel, already wanted to kill Tamlin. But seeing the way he made you recoil? It made his blood boil. The only saving grace for Tamlin touching his mate was the fact Azriel knew you wouldn’t be going home with him.

“Thank you.” You murmur as he leads you to sit. A small intimate lunch. Just his seat, yours and Nesta’s. You had to force another smile at him as you sat. “Your Court is lovely.” You speak gracefully. “I hadn’t expected it to be so lush when we arrived.” Tamlin smiled and nodded.

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” He allowed the servants to come up and give you a plate of food. Small salads and sandwiches. All things that were light. “I suppose I have your sister to thank for that. After ruining my Court…and letting it go to ruin. I looked at it only to realize that I was still running it the way my father had. And I didn’t need to. So, I took control back and let myself rebuild.” He explains to you, and you can see the sparkle in his eye as he does. He was truly happy, and he meant the words coming out of his mouth.

“I’m glad.” You offer, “I didn’t agree with her actions…but sometimes there is necessary evils that must take place for peace to prosper.” You give Tamlin your own gentle smile.

And conversation continues from there. Nothing out of place, or out of pocket. Tamlin even spoke to Nesta a few times, though Nesta just responded with pointed looks.

Azriel approved.

But all said and done, Tamlin was a gentleman. You could see how Feyre fell from him, how you could have fallen for him. But every time that thought crossed your mind, the shadows that curled around your ankle tightened. And at one point when you leaned down to try and brush them away- getting lost in your day dream of what life would be like here. They appeared as shackles. Reminding you what Tamlin had done to your sister. You didn’t finish your food.

Azriel’s eyes narrowed at the way you pushed away the plate. He noted that you’d have to eat more before you out to the ball tonight.

“You had quite a bit of fun at the ball last night, no?” Tamlin asked, looking at you over the rim of his wine glass. Your cheeks heated, looking away from him as you nodded. A small chuckle from him pulled your gaze back. “No worries, that is what the night was for. I’m just glad you enjoyed yourself. You got home alright?”

Nesta scoffs. “If you’re implying that we’d let her wonder your courts drunker than a skunk you’d be wrong.” You lightly kick her shin. “She went home with us, slept alone in her own bed. You needn’t worry about her maidenhood or anything of the sorts.” You felt your face heat again at her words as you shuffled uncomfortably in your seat. You felt exposed, embarrassed…you didn’t want to be here anymore. The feeling unknowingly being pushed down the bond. Azriel gritted his teeth, but kept quiet. Trying to push a sense of calm down the bond to you.

The cooling sensation of shadow washed up and down your leg. Gently trying to coax your fears down. You could have cried in relief to feel something so normal. But that relief was quickly taken as Tamlin stiffed. “I simply wanted to ensure she was safe. I implied nothing about her maidenhood. Nor do I care if it was intact or not. Feyre’s wasn’t.”

You felt a surge of anger from deep within. “That is my sister.” You say sharply. Glaring at Tamlin. “And my High Lady. Be careful how you speak of her.”

Tamlin’s eyes bore into yours as his nose wrinkles in disgust. “Tell me y/n. Would you require me to crown you High Lady?”

You felt the shadows grow still at his question. Azriel held his breath, if you had said yes? Did that mean you wanted to be a high lady? Something he couldn’t give you? Nesta’s eyes watching you intently. “I would require nothing of you.” You say simply, nodding your head to him. “Because I will not be with you- nor should a partner require another partner to value them. You shouldn’t have to ask for those things. If I truly mattered to you- and you say you have changed. Then making me a High Lady would be no different than seeing me as your equal.” You look to Nesta. “I wish to leave.”

Nesta’s mouth curls up into a smile. She stands and looks at Tamlin. “Thank you for your kindness.” Before offering you a hand, and you quickly take it. Not looking back at Tamlin. Azriel had never more proud.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As soon as you were out of ear shot from Tamlin, Azriel appeared. Taking you in his arms and holding you tightly. The shadows wrapping around you two, and from your place- buried in his neck you felt his wings wrap around you too. ”You did such a good job…” He whispers into your hair. He reveled in the way your shoulders unclenched and held onto him tighter. Your whole body practically falling into his, soaking up his warmth and comfort.

”I wanna go back to the cottage.” You whisper. Before you know it, your feet are off the ground. Moving through shadows as you winnow back.

Azriel doesn’t let you go. Bringing you back up to his room, in his defense. Nesta motioned her head to do so, so he figured she’d go fill in Rhys. Opening his door, he gently laid you on the bed. Going to back up and let you rest- but you reached out to him. “Don’t go…not yet.” You whisper as you look at him with pleading eyes. And he is a weak man. Especially after seeing you with another male today. He had no choice but to crawl into bed with you, tucking you under his arm as he runs his thumb over your temple. “Thank you…” Your voice is soft, your eyes closed as you relax further into him. Azriel prays to the Mother that you can’t hear how fast his heart is beating.

“You don’t have to thank me.” He says quietly. Using the shadows to pull a blanket up and around you too. “I didn’t do anything.”

You shake your head, sitting up a little to look at him. “The shadows. They gave me strength. Reminded me that I wasn’t going to be free with Tamlin when my mind wondered. Your shadows gave me the strength to speak my mind. So thank you.”

Azriel smiles at you, cupping your cheek as he looks at you with a sincerity in his eyes. “My shadows didn’t give you anything you didn’t already have. You are strong Y/n. Don’t forget that.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Now, I can feel it in my old bones. You need a nap.” He pulls you down into him. Laughing quietly at his actions you settle in for a nap. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

a/n: The next part will have another part at the ball!! I wasn't sure if I should have added it to this part or not...but let me know what you guys think! If you wanna be added to the taglist- click here! taglist: @sidthedollface2 @cat-or-kitten @impossibelle @brunette-barbie1220 @scatteredstardustt @sammanna @cherry-cin @tele86 @judig92 @lana08 @stained-glass-eyes0708 @oucereeng @persephonesalvatore @fightmedraco @juniperberriesaries @whatdoyxumean @harrystyke21 @tenshis-cake @5onedirection5 @bubybubsters @its-sam-allgood @natashachelsea @brieflyclassymortal @thecraziestcrayon @cherryinsalemverse @sourapplex @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @waggel36 @oucereeng @bunnyredgirl @kookie4life @mybestfriendmademe @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @mp-littlebit @caticorn61 @prettylittlewrites @lilah-asteria @thewulf @st4r-girl-official @nightsbite @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @naturakaashi

[ladykailitha]

Paper Hearts Part 1

Remember how my posting schedule was going to be based on strictly vibes from now on? Yeah this is why. I have three chapters of this completed and only two of most everything else because I hurt my right wrist on Wednesday evening (I think I overextended my elbow and it fucked up the tendons in my wrist, because I've done that before on my arm and it feels like that).

So instead of getting more work done on stuff that is literally paragraphs away from the end of the chapter I'm having to tap into my backlog. Which is what it's for. But it is annoying.

I am also aware it's nearly May, but my muse was never one for sense.

Summary: Hawkins High is selling paper hearts to help raise for senior prom. $3 for red romantic hearts and $1 for pink friendship hearts. Steve hasn't dated anyone since the horrific breakup with Nancy on Halloween and so he decides that he's going to send pink hearts to senior girls who wouldn't normally get any hearts at all. When Eddie hears about this he can't help be intrigued. It goes against his very well curated Munson Doctrine. But as events keep throwing them together, Eddie learns there is more to King Steve then meets the eye.

Also a note: the use of the other's last name when it's their point of view is deliberate. As they get to know each other more, the more first names get used.

****

Steve was staring at the huge sign with a sense of dread. In big pink and white letters on a red background screamed the words:

PAPER HEARTS FOR YOUR VALENTINE $1 FOR PINK FRIENDSHIP HEARTS $3 FOR RED ROMANTIC HEARTS ALL PROCEEDS GO TO CLASS OF 1985 SENIOR BALL

Valentine’s Day. That time of year for lovers and romantics. That used to be him. But not since Nancy broke his heart by breaking up with him for Jonathan Byers.

There would be no paper hearts in locker this year. Not even pink ones. Nancy had well and truly blown up his life and she got to walk away scott free.

He didn’t know what to do anymore. He pinched his nosed and rubbed the end. He wasn’t going to cry in the middle of the fucking main hall of Hawkins High.

Just before he was about to start moving again someone shoulder checked him, sending back to the floor and all his stuff sprawling around it like some fucked flower.

“Watch it, Harrington!” the voice growled as whoever it was sped off down the hall.

Steve didn’t even bother looking to see who it was. It could have been anyone these days. His former friends. Billy and his ilk. Hell, even the nerds and geeks got in on the action lately.

He knelt down to start cleaning it up when someone else kicked his books toward the lockers. He managed to get most of it picked up when he reached for the last notebook. Someone stepped on his hand and ground down, hurting Steve and ripping the cover off the notebook, crinkling the first couple of pages.

He shoved it into his bag and cradled his hand to his chest. He looked at his watch and sighed. Lunch was nearly over and he hadn’t even made it to the cafeteria yet.

There was nothing for it, he had to get to his next class. He walked into the class room just as the bell rang, but instead of heading for his usual spot near the front he made for the back of the class. There were always a few empty seats around Munson. The guy was terrifying on a good day.

And Steve hoped it was a good day.

****

Eddie made to class on time by the skin of his teeth. He slid through door just as the bell rang above his head. He was about to lope over to his usual spot in the back when he stopped dead in his tracks.

He looked up at the front at the deliberately left open seat and back at the seat next to his with a raised eyebrow. He wisely said nothing as he flopped into the torture device known as the chesk. Dair? Whatever the hell it was called where some unspeakable horror thought to combine a desk and a chair.

Eddie glanced sidelong at his new companion. The recently deposed king of Hawkins High sat slumped in his chesk, head down, just staring at its surface as if held the meaning to life the universe and everything.

Which if Harrington asked him, he would have been told forty-two.

He pulled out his notebook and noticed that Harrington did not do the same. Curiouser and curiouser. He pulled out a pencil and settled in to avoid falling to sleep today.

He was taking notes and doing the assignment like he was supposed to when about half way through class the teacher called out to him.

“Mr. Harrington!” she shrieked. “If you are going to be sitting in the back, please have the decency to pay attention in class!”

A couple of kids snickered.

“You were talking about how the Fool is used to lighten the absolutely horrific scene above him of Lady Macbeth as she tries to get blood out of her gown,” he muttered, scratching his cheek with his left hand.

That was when the teacher and Eddie noticed the same thing at the same time.

Harrington was cradling his right hand to his chest.

“Mr. Harrington is there something wrong with your right hand?”

“I accidentally hurt it during lunch,” he said with wince.

The teacher tapped her foot and crossed her arms. “And why didn’t you see the nurse?”

“It happened right before class,” Harrington muttered, “and I didn’t want to be late.”

The teacher huffed and shook her head. “I will give you note for your next teacher, but you will see the nurse after class, am I understood?”

He nodded.

“Mr. Munson,” she cried out, shrill. “If you’ll share your notes with Mr. Harrington after class so he does not fall behind.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He continued to keep an eye on Harrington throughout the whole class but whenever their English teacher tried to catch him out, she would fail every time.

When the bell rang Eddie started shoving his stuff into his backpack. “You sure you even need my notes, Harrington? That was pretty impressive shit you pulled out of your ass today.”

Harrington just shrugged. “Just because I was paying attention doesn’t mean it won’t bleed out of my ears with all the algebra and chemistry stuff I have later.”

Eddie winced in sympathy. “Yeah, I hear that. What’s your locker number and I’ll just slip a copy of my notes in the slots.”

“323B.”

“They got you on a lower locker?” he asked with a grimace. “That’s jacked up. Even Mr. Super Senior here got a top locker. Does the secretary hate you or some shit?”

Again Harrington shrugged. “I’ve got to go. I’ll catch you later.”

Eddie folded his arms at looked at him. “You’re not going to the nurse’s station, are you?”

This time it was Harrington who winced.

“That’s what I thought,” he huffed. “I’m walking you to said nurse’s station because it could be broken and if you don’t get that looked at, you’ll be in more than just a world of hurt, man. You could fuck up your hand for life and you wouldn’t be able to anything in that hand ever again.”

Steve’s eyes went wide as all color drained from his face.

“Shit.”

Eddie grabbed both of their backpacks and headed for the door. “Yeah, shit.”

Harrington hurried to catch up, hand still cradled to his chest.

“How did you know that could happen to my hand?” he asked softly.

Eddie eyed him sidelong, but the kid wasn’t being an ass. In fact he would say Harrington was being earnest.

“My uncle works at the machinist plant up the road,” Eddie explained. “One of his buddies broke his hand on the machine and refused to get it looked at. Guess how well that worked?”

“Was it the plant’s fault?” Harrington asked. Eddie cocked his head to the side. “That you uncle’s friend got hurt?”

Eddie reared his head back in shock that Harrington would even ask.

“No, man,” he said shaking his head. “He was goofing off, being a dick. Uncle Wayne always said that if you knock on every door asking for the devil, one day he’s gonna answer.”

“What happens when the devil comes looking for you?” Harrington muttered to himself and Eddie couldn’t help but wonder what this kid had seen.

Because he knows haunted. And Harrington looks like he has an attic full of ghosts.

Once they got to the nurse’s station Eddie waited for him. When the other boy came out he asked how it went.

“She says it doesn’t feel broken,” he huffed. “But that if it doesn’t improve over the weekend after icing at least three times a day, to come back on Monday and she’ll order an x-ray.”

Eddie nodded. “Right. See you around, Harrington.”

He had barely turned around when Harrington called out to him. “Wait!”

Eddie turned back around to have a piece of paper shoved into his hand. “I got the nurse to excuse us both.”

And before he could even reply the other boy was tearing off down the hall as if the devil himself was chasing him.

And after that comment he’d heard, Eddie couldn’t be sure he wasn’t.

****

Steve was curled up on his bed, icing his hand, staring up at the ceiling, and wondering where the fuck his life had gone so wrong.

Okay so he could answer that one, actually. Demogorgon ate his girlfriend’s best friend while in his backyard. While him and said girlfriend were having sex for the first time.

Yeah... that was all kinds of fucked up.

He still couldn’t believe that Nancy sided with Jonathan about him taking pictures of their first time.

So now Valentine’s Day was two week away and he was dateless, friendless, and unpopular. He wished he could just be called a loner. But a loner was cool and Steve wasn’t even that anymore.

He just had to make until the end of may and then he could graduate, leaving this town in his rearview mirror for good.

Steve knew that he would have to struggle through this fucking holiday and Senior prom then it would be smooth sailing from there.

He had all this money that he would normally spend on his girlfriends, but now he didn’t even have that. He supposed he could blow it all on beer and weed and then he could enjoy the weekend for a change.

Steve sat up suddenly, the ice pack falling from his hand to hit the floor with sploosh!

Now that was an idea.

He still had one thing in the school that was nonpareil and that was gossip. In fact, it was easier to hear all the dirty little secrets because no one cared if he was standing there.

A smile spread over his face.

That could actually work. It would be a great way to spend his allowance and it would be fun.

He got up and put the ice pack back in the freezer. He couldn’t do anything about it right then but once his hand was better he would formulate his little plan.

Steve was suddenly excited for the first time since he dropped Dustin off at the middle school’s Snow Ball.

He was going to make this holiday fun even if he had to manufacture the fun himself.

****

Eddie was pissed. A little at himself, but mostly at how Harrington was being treated.

He had to sit through lunch and listen a bunch of stupid jocks brag about stomping on Harrington’s hand when he was trying to pick up his stuff off the floor in the hallway yesterday.

They had been hoping for an actual break, but the asshole thought he’d only bruised it.

The reason Eddie was a little mad at himself for this was because he was the one that had shoulder checked Harrington. He had only been trying to get the guy out of his daze. Not send his shit flying.

And then to have someone deliberately stepping on his hand. Fuck. Not even Hagan ever went that far.

Stev–Harrington didn’t deserve that kind of bullying. No one did.

But he could see the twisted sort of appeal, though. And fuck if that didn’t make his stomach turn.

To see the deposed king and want to mock that? Want to dig the hurt in as deep as he could? To drive home the lesson that popularity was fleeting and that existence was a curse?

Yeah, Eddie could see the appeal.

But he wouldn’t. He might make fun of literally everyone and everything but his own interests, but to make turn that into actual cruelty? That was were he drew the line in the sand.

He went home feeling sick to his stomach. And of course Wayne picked up on it immediately.

He jutted his chin at the chicken and rice on Eddie plate that he had only merely pushed around with his fork.

“What’s got you so twisted around the bend?”

Eddie put his fork down and hid his mouth with his clasped hands, elbows on the table.

“I fucked up today,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean for it to go as it did.”

“What did you do?”

So Eddie told him. “I wasn’t trying to hurt him, but he got hurt anyway.”

“That does sound pretty bad,” Wayne agreed. “And as you say, you were trying to help only for it to go very awry. And since you didn’t about it until after the fact you couldn’t apologize and that’s what’s eating you up inside.”

Eddie nodded around his fists, his lower lip quivering.

“You’ll just have to find a way to apologize on Monday,” Wayne said wisely.

Eddie sighed. It was the best he could do. It wasn’t as though he could call the guy up or show up at his house. The first because he didn’t have the guy’s number and the second because he’d get the cops called on him so fast by the neighbors.

It would just have to wait until Monday.

****

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[theadorableapprentice]

Nightmare

MC x Solomon Warnings: Hurt/Comfort Word Count: 1709

A/N: The song is Nightmare by Set It Off. It's one of my favorite songs and made me think of Solomon awhile back. I'm glad I finally got to write this story. It took a different direction than I thought it would, but I still like how it turned out. I hope you enjoy!

They're coming, creeping from the corner

And all I know is that I don't feel safe

Solomon doesn't talk about his past much. You knew this. Of course you knew this. You’ve tried so many times to get Solomon to tell you stories from his life. He would brush off your requests with some cheeky one-liner and that was that. So, you didn’t get to know the real reason why he’s always on edge. “We’re humans in the Devildom, MC. Why wouldn’t I be?” That’s his response whenever you asked him about it. Nevermind that Solomon managed to beat Diavolo when he was mad and actively going for Solomon’s throat. Nevermind that he walked from the Human World all the way to the underworld and then back. Nevermind that he’s fought a war against the Devildom. 

The only thing that you really know is that Solomon doesn’t feel safe. You’re actually not sure if you’ve ever seen him truly relaxed. Sure he puts up this laid back facade, but you know him better than that. Which is why you’re not entirely shocked by the sight before you upon coming home.

I feel the tapping on my shoulder

I turn around in an alarming state

But am I losing my mind? I really think so

Not a creature in sight

Solomon whips around when he hears the door click, eyes wide with fear. He’s scared of something. You’re not sure what, but he is. 

“Sol… Is everything alright?”

“MC, I-” He cuts himself off and looks over your shoulder and then peers out the window.

But, what you don't know

Is that my breathing gets faster and so does my heartbeat

I wish this was over, I wish that this was a dream

He can feel his heartbeat speeding up. It’s getting hard for him to breathe. This hasn’t happened in awhile. He’s usually good at hiding these things from everyone. But not now, not from you. 

“MC, I don’t-” He closes his eyes and tries to take a deep breath. Anything to get this to stop. For things to go back to normal, where he could pretend everything was okay.

“Sol, look at me. Can you look at me?”

I created a monster, a hell within my head

With nowhere to go, I'm out on my own

Oh, I'm so scared

Solomon opens his eyes and there are tears forming. You’ve never seen him cry before. In fact, any vulnerability is a rare sight. It’s becoming more frequent, but the moments are few and far between.

“Here, now put your hand here,” You say, guiding his hand to your chest. “Take a deep breath with me. In.” You take a deep breath in and watch as Solomon tries to do the same. He shakes his head, unable to get a deep breath in. “That’s okay. Just keep your hand here. Can I try something?”

I created a monster, a beast inside my brain

With nowhere to go, I'm out on my own

My mind impaired

Awake me from my nightmare

Solomon nods, tears falling from his eyes. His voice cracks. “Please.”

You move your hands to his face and gently pull him until your foreheads are touching. Your thumbs lightly stroke his cheeks, wiping away the tears that have fallen. “Okay, I want you to close your eyes and focus on my voice. Can you do that for me?”

Solomon nods and closes his eyes. 

“Okay. I want you to think of the place you feel the safest. Think really hard about it. Do you have a place in mind?”

Solomon nods again, breathing slowing ever so slightly.

“Okay, can you describe it to me?” You ask.

“It’s your bedroom when we sleep together in there,” He responds. This makes your heart swell. The place he feels safest is with you.

“Can you tell me specific details? I want you to make this as real as possible in your mind.”

“The blankets are soft. It’s warm because you’re next to me, but it’s not too hot. The room is dark, except for the moonlight that comes through the window.” Solomon’s breathing is slowly returning to normal as he describes your room to you. 

When he finishes and his breathing returns to normal, you take him into a hug.

“Thank you, MC,” Solomon says, hugging you back. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and you feel tears starting to fall from his eyes.

“I’ll always be here for you Sol. Can you talk to me about what’s going on?”

Wait, something doesn't feel right

No, something seems wrong

And I've been feeling this way

For far too long

“I don’t even know where to start. There’s just so much.”

You slowly rub his back, hoping to comfort him even more. “How about you just tell me one thing. One thing that’s upsetting you.”

“Okay. I don’t feel safe, MC. Something feels wrong but I don’t know what it is. It’s like this feeling that something terrible is going to happen or that something is off.” 

“Solomon, you’ve lived a very long life. And I’m sure you have been through a lot of things that would traumatize most people. That’s going to have some lasting effects on you. Let me try something that works for me. Can you tell me what terrible thing you think is going to happen that has you so upset right now?”

“I’m scared I’m going to lose you again, MC. I’m scared that one day you’re going to go out and you won’t come back.”

Your heart breaks for him when you hear that. “Okay, let’s break this down. Why is that a realistic fear?”

“You’re a human in the Devildom. Most demons want to eat you.”

“Okay, and now, why is that fear unlikely to come true?”

“You’re a very capable magic user. And you have a lot of powerful beings watching over you.”

“I don’t think Diavolo would take very kindly to a demon trying to harm me, do you?”

Solomon lets out a tearful laugh. “No, probably not. Seeing him genuinely angry is a rare sight, but I know that whatever demon tried to hurt you would be in for a real bad time.”

“Okay, see? While there is always a chance I’ll get hurt, it’s very unlikely. I don’t think many demons are stupid enough to face the wrath of some of the most powerful beings in the three realms. Now, is there anything else that’s upsetting you?”

As my vision gets blurred, my skin's getting colder

Appearing young, while I'm growing older

I collapse to the floor and scream

"Can anybody save me from myself?"

“I feel trapped, MC. I stay at this physical age, but I grow older every year. Every so often I have to move around, pretending to be a new person. It’s hard to keep any human friends because they all grow older and I don’t. One day you’re going to grow old too. But I will always stay just like I am. Most people would kill to be immortal, but it just feels like a curse anymore.” More tears fall onto your shoulder.

“I can’t imagine how lonely that would be. But, I want you to remember that you do have friends. The brothers, for one. I mean, remember Asmo and Mammon fighting over what Asmo should get you for your birthday? They care about you. And, while I might not always be around, you still have me for quite awhile. And who knows, maybe I’ll stumble upon some ancient artifact that turns me immortal. With how things seem to work for me, that is a possibility.”

Walking to the ledge, I find myself looking down

Frozen still with fear, now I'm plunging to the ground

If only I knew how to fly

Then I could convince myself this isn't my time to die

Solomon laughs again. “Yeah, it is… But I wouldn’t wish immortality upon you MC. It’s truly not as great as it seems. It’s… It’s hell. You watch everything change around you as everyone you know and love grows old and dies. And then you have to start over somewhere else.”

“I have plenty of loved ones who aren’t going to grow old and die. You, for one.” You give him a comforting squeeze and continue to rub his back.

“Yeah, but what about your human family? What about your human friends? Watching the people you love die isn’t an easy thing.”

“No, but that’s a part of life. And I’m sure staying the same age while they get older is hard, but I have you guys. It wouldn’t all be bad. Getting to stay with you forever wouldn’t be bad.”

“Staying with you forever sounds nice… But I still wouldn’t wish this upon you. I don’t want you to turn into what I have.”

“What, a wonderful person who protects humanity? Someone who would do anything to help the ones he loves? That sounds like a pretty good person to me.”

“You have too high an opinion of me, MC.”

Instead, I'm rocketing faster and faster

I dive-bomb to the floor

And when my body crashes to the pavement

I'm right back where I was before

“No, I think my opinion of you is just right.”

Solomon lets out a shaky breath as a few more tears fall. “Everyone calls me shady, some even call me evil. Your opinion-”

You cut him off. “My opinion matters more than a bunch of demons who don’t actually know you. Have you done shady things? Sure. But don’t forget the ones calling you shady are literal demons. They don’t get an opinion when they’re worse than shady themselves. You’re doing great Sol. Despite what you and everyone else thinks, you’re doing great just how you are.”

I created a monster, a hell within my head

With nowhere to go, I'm out on my own

Oh, I'm so scared

Awake me from my nightmare

Solomon sniffles, pulling his face back up and wiping the rest of his tears. “Thank you, MC. I love you and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smile at him. “I love you too Solomon.”

[jocelynscrazyideas]

Ballet class | Nico Hischier x Fem reader

summary: Nico comes in early to ballet. Yes ballet, he’s getting help to learn how to take stress off his joints, and so is his fellow teammates. I- Dani help him correct his stretching exercises, and his skating.

Warnings: Fluff, (no smut), kinda small 😁👍

~~~

I’m helping out in the NHL for some skating techniques. No, I have never actually been good at skating. Yes, I am a pro ballet student- I actually graduated from premie class about a year ago.

It’s been studied that hockey players, even the good players need skating lessons. I mean, doesn’t everyone? As an instructor in Pilates, and a ballet teacher, I am supposed to help the athletes gain muscular endurance in muscle groups that are rarely thought off.

“Hey, I’m Nico.” I very tall brown eyed man says as he skates, my way. I am in the middle of the rink waiting for my class to start.

It’s 11:24 AM. Class doesn’t start until til 12:30. Maybe he’s here for extra help?

I know I stayed I’m not good at skating, but I can kayak pretty well, my dad was a coach for a little league back home in Arizona.

“Oh. Nice, I’m Dani.” I respond, almost forgetting that I have to answer back. I haven’t talked to a handsome, very beautiful man in like 3 years. Damn, I must be dry.

“Oh haha. I was wondering if I could get extra help? I haven’t tried ballet before and I thought it would be pretty difficult. Especially for a 25 year old.” Nico said, and his eyes trail down to my outfit.

I’m wearing a brown bodysuit, when I mean a body suit I mean the ones that end up being a thong in the back and look like a very small one piece swimsuit. Over the brown bodysuit I have a black vest, and black leggings on. I have white leg warmers on because I am truly freezing.

“If you’re cold, I have the perfect warmup for you!” Nico says as he eyes my mouth shivering.im literally chattering and shaking as we speak.

“You’re beautiful.” Nico says as he helps me back up to the normal flooring as we exit the rink. Wiw, straight to the point.

“Uhh, well thanks, you’re a pretty handsome man yourself.” I say back. Ugh. I sound like a grandma.

Boring.

“You excited for the Nico Hischier warmup?”

“I guess so.” I say as I look up towards his beautiful eyes. They are so brown, they glisten in the light though, and they remind me of honey when they glimmer down at me. It’s like they are full of love.

I’m hooked.

Nico ends with warming me up with some runs, abdomen teaser, and a water break. Now I’m out of breath it’s time for stretching. I told him to show me how he normally stretches before a game. It’s was truly horrendous. He was showing me things that would tear tendons if he wasn’t so flexible in his hip flexors.

“Okay, okay, okay. I’m let’s start on our feet shall we?” I say trying to build him a better routine.

“Alrighty.” He says as he swoops his hair back and he ties his shoe. He rests his hands on his hips, and I could tell he was looking at my ass. I get it. I do have a very plump, and full ass, but I don’t even know this guy.

I bend down about half way, my hips are aligned, my arms are behind my back, I’m stretching my hips to let the stress out of the muscles, tendons, and places that don’t get worked the most.

He follows what I’m doing. I bend a knee and I tune to the right side. I’m in a lunge and I put the back leg down. I push myself into the ground. This stretches my hips, and a little of my quads.

“Ow. Ow!” Nico whimpers from behind me. He seems to be pushing himself to far.

“You need to go at your own pace.” I say trying to correct his mistake.

“No. No, this is how far I can go.” Nico insists to go farther. I get up from my lunge and stand behind him. His hips are stressed, he needs to let them looose in order to skate faster, and even be able to feel more loose when he skates.

“No. I can help you, that’s why I’m here.” I voiced.

I grab my hands, and swing them to his hips, he is in his very low lunge and I pick him up a little bit. I twist him to the right and his pelvis is aligned with his shoulders, perfect.

“I feel better. I can feel a stretch and I think I can breathe now.” Nico announced.

I know, this is my job, I know how to fix it.

“Perfect!” I exclaim, letting him know that I am here for him to lean on.

We finish the stretching and the warmups. Now, it’s time for skating. He skates pretty fast, but his too curvy in his feet, I can tell.

“Let’s do a little ballet first?” I mentioned, it’s not an option, we are doing ballet before we skate.

“Okay, whatever you think I need… angel.” Nico announced, and in a very confidently way. He winked at me.

Um.. yes!!!

I taught him to hold his core, and the posture. He obviously doesn’t need the posture portion but the engagement of his core is necessary.

“Slate time?” Nico exclaims, he’s ready. I think I’m ready now too? I lace up my skates and he’s already on the ice.

He skates back, and kneels down. He’s tiring my skates back up.

It’s 12:30. Class started. All the guys come flooding in knowing that I can see their lunch all over their fingers. I told them, 12:30 on the dot. Not before and not later, exactly at 12:30.

“Oh! Hey Nico, and-” Jesper starts but…

“-Dani.” Nico finishes.

“Okay, skates on? Let’s head on the ice!” I say in eager. Nico steps on first and he grabs a hold of my hand, he’s helping me in the ice.

“Oh, you have tension.” Jack says, letting everyone know that Nico thinks I’m just a pretty girl.

Nico skates with me to the middle and the boys are still doing drills that I told them to do a minute ago.

He pulls me in closer to him, I can feel the warmth of his anatomy. His heart is pounding, not only can I feel it I can hear it. That’s how close we are. I feel like I’m on his chest, it doesn’t look like it, but it feels like it.

“You’re a pretty girl.” Nico says as he reaches for his phone. He hands his phone to me and I put in my number.

Class ends, I’m sure I taught everyone how to skate in a safer way. I also think I have them a pre game stretching lesson.

Nico texts me a picture of us, he must of swiped it from when I was talking to the other devils.

God, he’s a really pretty man.

[starsandthorn]

no but actually. the parallels to other Twins in different nations of teyvat in relation to the traveler and their desire to reunite with their own sibling makes me a little bit bonkers. like.

diluc and kaeya as what the traveler has and fears, after we will be reunited [separation born from conflict that seemingly cannot be mended; they both care for each other but ultimately their opposing ideals mean they cannot be at each other's side in the same way that they used to, and no longer have the close bond they once did]

ei and makoto as what the abyss sibling experienced [a crushing loss not just of one's twin but the last remaining friend they had and the safety and security of their nation, coming out the other side traumatized, cold and jaded and making decisions that will ultimately hurt the people they claim to want to protect for the sake of an unattainable goal]

and lyney and lynette as what the traveler and the abyss twin used to have before they were separated [never apart for long, home is wherever we are together], what the traveler wants [their separation brief and quickly amended, continuing to be inseparable after they reunite], and also the choice they'll have to make [the twins being together in an organization the traveler inherently doesn't trust - does the traveler want to be by their sibling's side badly enough to throw their lot in with the abyss, and turn their back on everyone else they've met on their journey so far?]

[bylertruther]

do you ever think about the fact that throughout the entirety of stranger things we’ve always seen mike practically shout his love for will from the rooftops by throwing his everything into believing, protecting, and helping will no matter the stakes, and how a majority of byler moments are initiated by him, and how will has always loved him back quietly despite being the one canonically confirmed to be in love, and how will is almost always on the viewer’s right in iconic byler moments but in season four we find him on the left in what used to be mike’s spot because their “roles” have switched AND when we’re taken out of the viewer’s pov and put in jonathan’s pov we see jonathan Come To A Realization here because while mike has always made it clear how special will is to him and how different their relationship is, will has always managed to keep the true depth of his feelings a little closer to his chest and it’s only when he publicly takes up that support role that mike has played for him previously that the audience is purposely made to realize, too, how romantic it truly is, because coming from mike everyone might have thought it was his usual overzealous theatrics but when the same tenderness and earnest love comes from will they realize oh. this is... this is actually something more. this is how they are this is mike and will like nothing has changed and no time has passed but it’s now that we realize just what it is, and now that will is starting to slowly but surely come out from this curtain he’s hid behind his whole life and voice that yes he loves mike of course he does he’s always loved him and loves him in precisely the way that mike expresses he needs to be loved there is simply NO conceivable way that they can come out of this hellish slow burn miscommunication trope not in full acknowledgement and eager acceptance of this love they have for each other and have always had and always will !!!!!!!!

[aureoboros]

our flag means death teaser just dropped. they really did that. i will be screaming and crying for the rest of eternity

i haven't been feeling very well recently so i haven't gotten around to fanart yet, but i absolutely will as soon as i can!!

i have never been this excited about a second season of a show !!!!! it's kind of wild to me that it's a real thing that exists. so many cancelled shows have made me less optimistic for renewals, but it's incredible that this story is really going to continue !! the first season didn't really get any advertisement at all, it was all just by queer word of mouth. and i think that's lovely !! it just shows what we can make happen when we band together :] (it'd be even better if hbo max paid their writers and actors fair living wages though,, just saying,,) i can't wait to watch this silly pirate show and for online to be like march of last year again !! october 5th we're so back !! we're all in the brainrot again folks

will be yelling about the teaser in the tags just in case anyone who comes across this hasn't seen it yet, and if you haven't, go watch it !!

[quasieli]

Guess it's just gonna be another day of getting pissed off and upset by things my father has said to me 🙃🙃

[roobylavender]

this isnt really an ask but im surprised tim is your favourite omg maybe its in my head but i feel you talk about dick and jason a lot more

oh it’s definitely not in your head lmaooo 😭 i talk about tim less bc i think up until the point i read his canon i was pretty much satisfied with it. obv i have issues with chuck dixon’s textual conservatism and bigotry but i don’t have issues with how tim generally existed as a character at least through the very early 00s, which is conveniently where i stopped following bat canon at large. dick and jason on the other hand present so many problems for me in terms of ill maintained characterization with respect to what i’ve read so they’re way more on my mind jdbdjdkd

[soldier-poet-king]

hm so dorian’s personal quest really hits different during The Longest June Of My Life, huh

[kentopedia]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ HOME COOKED MEAL — nanami kento

you bring itadori home for dinner & he gets to see a different side to kento

contents. aka you dig up some teenage photos of nanami, fem!reader, husband nanami, fluff, yuuji being your adopted son, i haven't watched the new ep (& i won't) but there is enough nanami angst so i am here to fix that — 1.7k

when you got ready to leave the school, your jacket on and bag tugged over your shoulder, you passed yuuji itadori in the halls, his expression suspiciously similar to a kicked puppy. 

yuuji perked up a bit as you walked by, offering you a small smile and a wave. and though you considered heading on home for the night, eager to see your husband, you slowed, hesitant to leave the poor kid all alone. 

“everything okay, yuuji?” you asked, frowning as he rested his elbows on his knees, studying a stain on the floor of the school. 

“hm?” the teenager glanced up, eyes bright and wide. his sweet smile was back on his face, so innocent and kind. for someone who had been through so much already, he was more caring than many people that you’d met in your life. “oh, everything’s fine. everyone’s just out on missions, so i feel a little…” he pulled up one shoulder in a shrug. “useless.” 

you knew it must have been hard for him, being a student that wasn’t quite like the others, having to train a little differently, adapt differently. but yuuji took it in stride, and he handled it better than any normal person would. 

with a nod, you secured your bag around your other shoulder, shifting your feet. “it’s just going to be you here tonight, then?” 

he hummed, sticking his hands in his pockets as he leaned back against the wall. “i think so. some of the others might be around, but they’re resting up.” 

“oh.” though you were certain yuuji had no qualms about spending an evening on his own, the thought of it made you feel like you were leaving a kitten out in the rain. almost pitiful. 

yuuji waved before you could say another word, smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “have a good night! i’ll see you tomorrow.” 

the car ride was spent listening to yuuji tell you story after story, the boy opening up to you in a way that he hadn’t quite related to any of the other sorcerers, even gojo.

you smiled to yourself, enjoying his stories as you wondered how to tell kento that you were bringing your student home for dinner. 

there was still a bridge to cross between them, and though you knew they both liked the other more than they let on, kento hadn’t quite connected to the boy like he wanted to.

you hoped that by inviting him over, yuuji would see that kento, truly, wasn’t as intense as he let on. he was sweet, caring, and he did have a sense of humor… even if gojo didn’t really believe that. 

you led yuuji into the house, and stopped him when you heard the sound of kento in the kitchen. his mission had ended earlier than yours, and he’d offered to cook tonight; there would be more than enough food for the three of you. 

“i’ll be right back,” you said, tapping yuuji on the shoulder. “let me go tell kento you’re here.” 

you’d considered letting your husband know before you arrived, but you hadn’t wanted him to protest. kento would try to make a fuss of having a guest over, even if it was only yuuji, and he certainly didn’t care about formalities. 

your heart skipped when you reached kento, his back turned, finishing up the meal that was steaming on the stove. even just standing in the threshold of the kitchen, you were overwhelmed with all of your love for him. 

but it didn’t take much… it never had. you’d always been sickeningly in love with nanami kento. 

your footsteps were soft as you snuck up behind him. “kento,” you said, just above a whisper, snaking your arms around his waist. you kissed the muscles between his shoulder blades, listening to the steady thrum of blood pumping through his body. 

“hi, sweetheart.” he’d heard you approach, and he turned, eyes softening when he glanced at you over his shoulder. “everything okay at the school?”

you nodded, squeezing him tighter. even though you’d seen him just a few hours prior, it felt like a long time—time apart when you were battling curses always dragged as you worried for each other’s safety. “did your mission go okay?” you asked. 

he took your hands from around his waist, bringing them to his lips softly. “everything went fine. dinner’s almost ready so—” then, he noticed your guilty expression, one that you were clearly horrible at hiding. “is something wrong?” 

you smiled innocently. “no! i just… brought a guest.” 

kento’s eyebrows raised, his smiling falling quickly. “well, you could’ve told me before.” he sighed, shaking his head as he turned around to face you. 

“sorry, i thought i’d surprise you.” 

kento’s lips drew into a thinner line. “honey, please tell me gojo satoru is not in my house right now. he’s not welcome here anymore, because the last time he almost destroyed our fucki—” kento glanced up, his words falling away as he glanced over your shoulder. “itadori. hello. i didn’t realize you were there.” 

you turned, releasing kento as yuuji gawked back at you. he’d caught in such a loving embrace with kento. yuuji’s normally stoic teacher was in the middle of swearing, blonde hair tumbling over his forehead. kento had replaced his suit with casual wear, and his contacts had been taken out. in place of them were wire-rimmed glasses. 

“nanamin!” yuuji gasped. “you look so different.” 

“yes, well, i apologize for my apperance.” kento sighed, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “i wasn’t aware we were having guests.” 

“one guest. its just yuuji,” you said, poking him in the middle of the chest as his professional tone returned, so easily taking over. “i don’t think he cares what you’re wearing.” 

“no, i don’t!” yuuji backtracked, eyes wide as he shuffled forward. “no, you look cool, you don’t look so…” 

kento raised his eyebrows, amused, even if yuuji couldn’t detect the humor in his expression. “so what?” 

the boy’s cheeks turned pink, embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “um—”

“you don’t look like you’ve got a stick up your ass.” you said, voicing yuuji’s obvious thoughts as you kissed kento on the cheek with a short laugh. of course, it was only to embarrass him further in front of his student. 

kento feigned a scowl, but didn’t push you away, his gaze firmly planted on yuuji. “that’s because i try to keep my relationships at work strictly professional.” 

“really?” yuuji grinned, stuffing his hands back in his pockets, his posture relaxing as he grew more comfortable in your home. “not very professional to marry someone you work with, is it?” 

you laughed loudly, already caring so deeply for the boy that you’d known for such a short period of time. 

“that was certainly an accident,” kento muttered, but his fingers lingered on your spine, tracing each of the bones. “i’ll have you know we were not working together when we got together.” 

“really?” yuuji’s curiosity spiked. “how long have you been together, then?” 

you thought back to when you were teenagers, when kento had a haircut that he had since regretted, and smiled mischievously. reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through old photos, back from when you were just kids, the images grainy and of much lower quality than the ones from your recent vacation. 

“hey, don’t show him those!” kento protested. he reached for your phone, but you scrambled under his arm, stretching your hand out to give yuuji the device. “itadori, don’t—” kento’s voice held a hint of panic, his cheeks hot with embarrassment as he grabbed you around the waist, trying to stop you from giving yuuji the phone. 

but it was already in yuuji’s hands, and you laughed loudly, knowing that while you looked a little more awkward than you did now, your appearance had changed near as drastically as kento’s. 

yuuji squinted his eyes at a sixteen year old nanami, blond hair long enough to reach his eyes, dressed in an all black ensemble, an earbud in one ear. kento was hardly smiling, but you beamed next to him in the photo, dressed more childishly than you were now, but just as pretty. the image from when you still fumbled around each other, unsure how to admit that you were both in love. 

a roar of laughter left yuuji as kento’s expression fell, and he released you, snapping the phone out of itadori’s palm. “that’s you, nanamin? no way. how did you…” yuuji glanced between you, squinting his eyes. “well, i guess looking at you now it makes sense.” 

“i know,” you agreed, covering your smiles with your palms. “we looked a little silly together back then. i saw the potential in him, but satoru certainly loved to make fun of us, didn’t he, ken?” 

“i have absolutely no desire to relive those days.” 

yuuji laughed. “you were just like fushiguro, i bet!” 

“scarily similar,” you agreed, as kento rolled his eyes beside you, putting your phone in his pocket to keep you from scavenging any older photos to share with the kid. “and he still loves to listen to—”

“don’t finish that sentence or i’ll save this dinner all for myself.” 

yuuji eyes flew up to his hairline, but you just snorted, knowing that kento’s threats were about as scary as a puppy.

“he’s still sensitive about it,” you whispered to yuuji. “gojo and his friends made fun of him all the time.” 

“oh really. just me?” kento retorted under his breath.

“you must have been pretty popular, then!” yuuji grinned. “if you were friends with gojo. he said all the girls in school loved him!”

kento made an irritated sound, stirring the spoon roughly against the pot. “well, satoru is the last person you should listen to. he has an ego bigger than the sun. and my wife is leading you astray. she was not similar to satoru, she was painfully shy, and it took weeks for either of us to talk to each other.” kento took the pan off the stove, peering over his shoulder at you. “and she is very lucky i love her too much to dig up any embarrassing stories of her.” 

“well, stories about me aren’t that interesting anyway.” you laughed, pointedly turning your back to kento. “yuuji, the good news is, i’ve got some more photos in kento in the old photo books. let’s go see them!” 

[joelsgreys]

strawberry

Daddy Dom! Joel Miller x Sub! Female Reader

summary: You feel ashamed for using your safe word with Joel during a session—he assures you you’re his good girl no matter what.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (TW) daddy kink, lots of dd/lg lifestyle elements, reader is collared (day collar) age gap that is self indulgent, reader is mid to late 20’s and Joel is in his 50’s but tweak that to your imaginations if you like. SMUT; p in v sex, rough sex (that reader asks to try), spanking, possible overstimulation (if you squint??) Joel basically fucks reader too much and too hard. USE OF SAFE WORD. aftercare and lots of fluff, references to a pop culture film that i haven’t seen in forever but it’s fine. PLEASE BE MINDFUL OF TAGS AND WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, no worries just scroll on by.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is totally self indulgent, all for me as someone who has dabbled in the lifestyle before. if this is not your thing, no problem at all but kindly keep any negative comments to yourself. huge shoutout to the lovely @swiftispunk for inspiring this with the snippets of her own upcoming series that i am oh so excited for, darling han thank you for not only inspiring this, but for listening to me talk about it and encouraging it! and also to sweet mya @cavillscurls because truth be told her own fic brought back so many memories of a time in my life where i was genuinely so happy, in love, and felt safe with a partner. okay, i am gonna run away to the gym now to listen to 1989 tv (again) and pretend posting this is not nerve wracking as hell.

He’s fucked you plenty of times before.

But never like this. No, never, ever like this.

He’s relentless.

His thrusts are coming quicker, sloppier, harsher.

It doesn’t hurt, but it’s intense. Too intense.

Joel Miller is truly testing your limits tonight.

No, he was pushing you past your limits.

Because that’s what you’d asked him to do.

“Alright, sweet girl. This is the last time I’m gonna ask you before we get started. Are you absolutely, one hundred—no, one thousand percent sure that you wanna try this out tonight?” he had asked you beforehand, skimming the strap of your light pink, lace lingerie with his index finger, his feathery soft touch sending a plesant little chill down the length of your spinal column. Of all the sets you owned, it had to be Joel’s absolute favorite. Normally, it was him who would pick out what you would wear, but tonight he’d decided to let you choose for yourself and oh, you did not disappoint. He fucking adored you in the color pink; loved how sickeningly sweet, precious, and innocent you appeared in the hue as you did the filthiest things to him, with him. When you nodded eagerly in reply to his question, a sigh fell from his lips, the doubt written all over his face as he remarked, “I really don’t think you’re ready. I think we should wait just a little a while longer.”

“I’m ready,” you’d insisted, stubbornly. “I promise. I wouldn’t be asking for it if I thought I wasn’t. But I am, I promise, promise, promise I am.”

“Daddy knows what’s best for you, sweetheart—”

Fingers curled around his bicep, you’d batted your eyelashes, giving him those eyes that brought him down to his knees for you a lot more often than he cared to admit, those eyes that made Joel feel like he was learning his role all over again, despite over two decades of experience under his belt. He used to pride himself for his ability to stand firm against pouting lips, fluttering lashes, and pleading gazes. And then you come along and suddenly it’s like he is in his thirties again and he’s navigating this kind of dynamic for the first time. Even after a year and a half with you, he’s still trying to figure out how to completely unwrap himself from your little finger.

“Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Christ, you made things so goddamn difficult.

“You really think you’re gonna be able to handle it? You think you’re gonna be able to handle me when I get real rough with you, baby? Hm?”

Without missing a beat, you replied, “Yes, Daddy. I can handle it. I know I can.”

You had been so certain that you could.

Confident, even. So confident that when he began going over the rules and reminded you to use your safe word if you needed him to stop, you’d giggled and stated, “I’ve never needed to use it before and I don’t plan on using it tonight.”

Oh, how very wrong you had been about it all.

You’d overestimated yourself, and underestimated Joel. Severely.

His hips snap roughly into yours without an ounce of mercy, over and over, again and again. Beads of perspiration start trailing their way down the sides of his face, the tip of his nose. His chest is flushed, red, and also slicked with a thin sheen of sweat.

You’ve already shattered, unraveled, come undone all over his cock several times—every time with his granted permission, of course. Because you knew better than to come without Daddy’s permission.

Your cunt is swollen, sensitive, too sensitive and at a point where it could start aching if he doesn’t let up soon. However, it seems like Joel’s only getting rougher and rougher as he chases another release.

“Joel—Daddy,” you manage to correct yourself at the very last second through a slew of frantic little gasps for air. “Daddy, please! Daddy please—”

His large hand tightens around both of your wrists pinned to the mattress above your head. Surely he must think you’re begging him for more, when the reality is you’re about to start begging him to stop because it’s just too much and you can’t handle it; but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to stop, the part of you that doesn’t want to disappoint the man who means the whole, entire world to you.

The man you belonged to, the man you loved.

Even through the haze, you try telling yourself that it’s all mind over matter, mind over matter, mind—

“Stop,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I—can’t take it anymore, Daddy, I can’t take it—!”

Releasing your wrists, Joel pulls himself out of you and you breathe out in relief, until he flips you over onto your stomach without warning. You let out an audibly loud gasp when his hands reach down and take your hips, pulling them up off his bed, putting you on your hands and knees. He brings down one of his hands on your ass in a stinging slap. “That is just too bad, ‘cause Daddy ain’t done with you yet, darlin’ girl. Not even close to bein’ done with you.” Wrapping his other hand around his base, he grins to himself as he glides the head of his cock up and down your slick folds. When it grazes your clit, you jerk forward, away from him, and he tuts, bringing you back to him, his fingers digging into the pillow soft flesh of your hips. “Oh no baby, you ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“But Daddy, I just can’t—”

You’re cut off by your own cry when you feel Joel’s length stretching your walls all over again. It’s just too much.

And you really, really can’t.

He leans over you and presses his lips to your ear. “You asked for this, didn’tcha? Asked to be fucked like a big girl, huh?” He bucks forward into you, eliciting another strangled cry followed by a string of pathetic whimpers. Bringing his palm down in a second strike, he demands, “Answer me when I’m takin’ to you. You wanted this, said that you could handle Daddy bein’ rough with you, ain’t that right now?”

“Strawberry.” You say the word so quietly, you can hardly hear it over the ringing in your ears.

Joel spanks you for a third time, in the exact same spot—so hard, there was simply no way you would wake up without a mark in the morning. “I need’ya to speak up. You’re such a big girl after all—”

“Strawberry!” You grasp fistfuls of bedsheets and the signal for it all to end tears itself from the back of your throat. “Strawberry, Joel! Strawberry!”

It’s only a millisecond that he freezes, if that.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel curses under his breath, pulling out of you. The bed shifts as he climbs off of it and scrambles to pull on his sweatpants before he’s at your side—you’re still on your hands and knees, an unmistakable look of panic on your face. He puts a gentle hand on your back. “Baby, are you alright?”

Your heart is pounding, your breathing labored but you manage a small, tight nod of your head. “I-I’m fine. I just—” Stopping, you grip the sheets tighter, warm tears brimming your eyes. Shame over what you’ve just done is already creeping in and sinking into your bones.

“Are you hurt, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?”

Joel’s voice is calm, but you can hear the concern that laces his tone.

“No.” Your own voice is small. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”

“Is it alright if I move you?” he asks. When you nod your head, he reaches out for you and helps you to sit on the side of the bed. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he takes your hands and his and feels his stomach sink when he realizes they’re ice cold; he begins rubbing them between his own to warm them up. “Baby if I hurt you, you need to tell m—”

“I promise, you didn’t hurt me,” you reassure him, swallowing the thickness rising in the back of your throat. You clock the skepticism in his dark brown eyes and a tear slips out, rolls down your face, and splatters onto your bare thigh. “I’m not lying, Joel. I swear.” Tugging one of your hands out of his, you reach up and instinctively clasp it around the blue sapphire pendant hanging from the delicate, gold chain around your neck—he’d presented you with his birthstone last year, not only as a symbol of his ownership of you, but also as a beautiful reminder of your commitment to one another. “You believe me, don’t you? You believe I’m telling the truth?”

Joel’s expression softens. “‘Course I do, baby.” He cups the side of your face gently, brushing away a second teardrop with his thumb. “But I’d really like to know what happened so I can figure out how to best help, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”

Embarrassed, you try turning your head away, but he holds your cheek in his hand, gentle but firm.

“S’okay. You can talk to me,” he encourages softly, his gaze meeting yours once again. “Tell me.”

“It was just too much,” you mumble, meekly. “And too intense.” Heat floods your face as you admit to him, “You were right. I just wasn’t—I wasn’t ready for that yet.”

In an effort to lighten your mood, Joel lightly gives your cheek a delicate pinch and chuckles.

“Daddy’s got that real annoyin’ habit of bein’ right ‘bout a lot of things, don’t he?”

“I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers. “I’m so sorry.”

His smile falters. “Sorry for what?”

“For using the safe word—”

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Y’know you ain’t supposed to apologize for needin’ to use your safe word, right? That ain’t how it works, darlin’.”

Dropping your necklace, you place your hand over his on your cheek. “But I feel bad,” you confess. “It makes me feel like—like I let you down, you know? And that’s the last thing I want to do. I just wanted to be really good for you.”

“Oh baby.” Joel lifts himself from the floor. He sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, brushing his lips against your temple. “You are such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”

“But I couldn’t take it,” you sniff. “I had to stop.”

“And that’s okay,” he assures you. He wraps you in his arms and gives your body a gentle squeeze. “It ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed ‘bout. You’re still really new to a lot of this stuff, y’know? S’why I told you I didn’t think you were ready.”

“I should’ve listened to you.”

He winks. “You should always listen to Daddy.”

You offer him a tiny, watery smile. “I know.”

“And say we try this again one day and it’s just not somethin’ you like or that makes you feel good—or maybe you never wanna try it again at all,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s okay too. You are still my good girl no matter what—my perfect girl. Always. You understand me?”

“Really? You promise?”

Joel holds up his pinky.

“Oh, you’re being really serious,” you tease him.

“Sure as hell am, darlin’.”

You lock your finger around his and he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

“I love you, Joel,” you murmur against his lips. You giggle again when he clears his throat and smacks your ass lightly, playfully. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, baby.” Joel pulls away and touches the tip of his nose to yours. “How’s ‘bout we get in the bath and get all cleaned up? Hm?”

“A bath?” You instantly perk up. “With bubbles?”

“With bubbles. And I’ll even let you throw in one of those smelly ball things you fuckin’ love so much.”

You swat at his chest. “Hey! My bath bombs smell really good, thank you very much!”

Joel doesn’t particularly like emerging from a bath smelling like a petunia, but for you, he’s more than happy to bathe in a sea of them, glitter and all.

You trace his collarbone with your index finger.

“Daddy? After our bath can we just cuddle in bed? Maybe watch a movie?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile sheepishly, adding, “Please?”

“‘Course. Pick any movie you want, sweetheart.”

“And can we have ice cream while we watch too?”

He pins you with a stern look. “Alright, now you’re just pushin’ it and takin’ advantage.”

You jut your lower lip. “Please, Daddy?”

There’s no arguing with that, not tonight.

Joel decides to let you have your way. “Alright.”

The two of you spend quite some time in the bath; normally a bath together ends with him inside you all over again, but tonight, all he’s doing is running a soapy wash cloth with your favorite shower gel—japanese cherry blossom—all over your body as he sits behind you, lips pressed against your ear. Joel washes you slowly, carefully, and all the while he’s whispering sweet, tender praise.

My good girl.

My perfect girl.

I’m s’proud of you.

I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.

After the bath, once you’re both dried and dressed in comfortable clothes—him in a clean pair of gray sweatpants and you in nothing but his t-shirt, Joel gives you the remote and instructs you to pick out a movie to watch.

“Make yourself real comfortable, baby,” he says to you, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back with that ice cream.”

You shoot him a hopeful glance. “Strawberry?”

“You tryin’ to be funny with me, darlin’?”

“No! That’s just my favorite flavor, silly.”

Joel grins to himself as he leaves the bedroom.

He knows that. Of course he knows that.

It’s why he always keeps a pint of it in his freezer.

You hop into bed and pull the blankets around you as your scan through the guide for a movie—you’d just decided on The Notebook when Joel appears again, a bowl and two spoons in his hands.

“You picked The Notebook again, didn’t you?” he asks without even looking at the flat screen that’s mounted on his wall over the fireplace.

“You said I could pick any movie I wanted.”

“Was just hopin’ you’d pick one we haven’t seen a thousand times,” he chuckled, sliding into his bed next to you. Joel places the bowl of strawberry ice cream in his lap and hands you a spoon. “C’mere, my sweet girl. Come closer.”

You snuggle up to him, and the two of you dig into the frozen dessert as the movie begins to play.

“Baby?” Joel speaks after a while, just as Allie and Noah share a passionate kiss in the pouring rain.

“Hm?” you ask, your fixed eyes on the flat screen, your mouth full of ice cream.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Swallowing, you look up at Joel, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you answer honestly.

“‘Cause if there’s anythin’ else I can do for you…”

You purse your lips together and let out a tiny hum as you mull it over for a moment.

“You can hold me closer?” you finally suggest.

Joel shifts in his spot. “I can definitely do that—”

You stop him and point to the empty bowl.

“After you go and get us some more ice cream?”

He exhales an amused snort through his nose and shuffles out of bed, taking the bowl with him.

“Don’t get so used to bossin’ Daddy around,” Joel warns you playfully over his shoulder.

“Too late.”

divider credit to @saradika 🍓

[luveline]

Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll

ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k

Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand? 

But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.  

Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really. 

“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness. 

“I’m thinking.” 

“Aren’t you always?” 

“About you.”

“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.” 

“You’re truly humble.” 

His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again. 

Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks. 

“Fine.” 

You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow. 

“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.” 

“I’m not traumatised.” 

“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.” 

He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important. 

Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen. 

You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?” 

He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. “Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.” 

“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.” 

“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed. 

“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.” 

“What did he say to you?” 

You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.” 

“Did he call you that?” 

“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice. 

“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.” 

“You’re flirting with me.” 

“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours. 

He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession. 

“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says. 

You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go. 

“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.” 

“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.” 

Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. “That’s perfect. Say something meaner.” 

The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating. 

[tricksterbxtch]

the way I want to completely ruin the lives of my half siblings for being the horrible people they are

if I have to hear about one more fucking incident of them causing our father anguish, there will be no force on any plane of existence that can protect them from me

[rafeandonlyrafe]

perfect wife

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, mating press, established relationship, marriage, housewife stuff? cooking and cleaning

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

it’s not that you enjoy cleaning all the time, but you get in certain moods, when your energy level is high and you got enough sleep the night before, that you absolutely love to clean, especially satisfying deep cleans.

today happens to be one of those days, and ever since you woke up, smiling at the note that rafe left you on his pillow, wishing you a good morning and saying he regretted not being there with you upon waking up, but also couldn’t bear rousing you from your sleep when he had to leave for work. it makes your heart flutter to see it signed not by his name but rather ‘from, your husband.’

you’ve been married to rafe for two whole months now, and it feels like a fairytale, somehow even better than being his girlfriend. you feel like a truly good wife as you already scrubbed all the bathrooms spotless before 10 am, and are now working on the common areas before hopefully cleaning the bedroom before rafe gets home from work.

you hum along to the music you have playing throughout the house wide sound system as you wipe down dusty surfaces, taking care to clean all the little crevices that normally get missed. 

time flies and before you realize, your stomach starts to grumble as noon rolls by. you take a pause from your work, having just finished the living room, and move into the kitchen, deciding to make yourself some food before getting to cleaning.

you love to bake, but cooking is not your favorite thing, so you make yourself something simple before you get a spark of creativity, making a stew to simmer so it would be ready by the time rafe got home around dinner. you finish your meal, having disregarded it halfway through to make the stew. 

you clean the kitchen while stirring occasionally before it gets to the point that you can lower the temperature and walk away, now off to clean the bedroom. you grab rafes hamper, filled with clean clothes that he didn’t have time to put away last night, too busy kissing and cuddling with you in bed.

you dump them onto the freshly washed bedsheets, taking the time and care to crisply fold everything or hang up what went on hangers. you even spend some time organizing rafes closet. he kept it pretty clean already, but you wanted to make everything perfect.

you run downstairs to check your stew before continuing onto your closet, it being a much bigger mess than rafes. you have a terrible habit of trying on clothes, deciding its not want you want to wear for the day, and tossing it onto the floor instead of putting it properly away.

“baby!” you hear rafe shout just as you finish up. you quickly flatten your hands over the comforter on the bed, smoothing out any creases to make the room truly flawless before you rush down the stairs, greeting your husband with a kiss as your arms loop around his shoulders.

“something smells good.” rafe says, taking a sniff of the entryway, the smell of the stew having radiated throughout the whole house.

“i made you food.” you tell him, smoothing your hands over his shoulders, keeping your body close to his having missed him all day. “it should be ready in about 30 minutes, just enough time for you to shower.” you know rafes routine well enough, he liked to shower right when he got home from work, to wash the day away.

“you’re the most perfect wife ever.” rafe bends his head to press kisses to your neck, making you giggle when he focuses on your ticklish spot.

“go shower!” you shoo him away, wanting him to have the soup when it is nice and hot.

“love you, honey.” rafe kisses your cheek before heading up the stairs. you echo the words back to him before heading towards the kitchen to check on the stew, but pause when you hear rafe calling your name from your bedroom.

you rush up the stairs, worried that you maybe accidentally threw something out that was important or moved something and he didn’t know where it was.

“what is it rafey?” you question, eyes wide as you see him looking around the room.

“you cleaned all this while i was at work? and put away my laundry?” rafe questions, seeing that even the baseboards have been cleaned of the bit of dust that always collects on them.

you give a shrug. “i like cleaning for you.” “you know you don’t have to do all this baby.” rafe moves to wrap his arms around your waist. “i mean i appreciate it, but don’t feel like you’re required to now that we are married.” “i know.” you smile, cupping his jaw in your hands. “i seriously just wanted to.” “okay.” rafe nods, satisfied with your answer. he knows you get little bursts of cleaning, but doesn’t want you to get the wrong impression about your role, even if you do stay home while he is at work.

“go shower.” you press a kiss to rafes lips before leaving him in the bedroom, smirking to yourself knowing that he’s about to see that you cleaned the bathroom as well.

you return to the stovetop, stirring everything together before preparing the final touches, even setting out the perfect silverware for the occasion, choosing the dining room for such a meal rather than the island where you and rafe usually eat.

you jump when rafe enters the kitchen. he always moves so quietly through the house that it catches you off guard.

“god, if we weren’t already married i would propose to you all over again right now.” rafe wraps his arms around your waist as you work on ladling the stew into individual bowls, deciding to keep the rest in the pot on the stove for easy splitting up into tupperware later.

“i like making food for you.” you hum. “don’t expect it all the time though, i also love getting take out.”

rafe laughs and nods his head in agreement, you have a habit of ordering food at least two times a week, making it a tradition on fridays to watch an episode of tv while you eat in the living room.

“let me carry them in.” rafe stops you before you can carry the bowls yourself, picking them up and following you into the dining room.

you blow on your spoon to cool the stew as rafe begins to eat, commentating over and over how delicious it is, even going so far as to moan and roll his eyes back into his head, but when you take a bite you can’t help but admit that it’s very good.

“when we finish eating-” rafe says after a few minutes of silence, too engrossed in your meal. “i’m going to take you upstairs and fuck you.” “rafe!” you giggle at the sudden lewdness.

“i’m serious, baby. i need to after you did all this cleaning, put away my laundry and made me food? i need to put a baby in you immediately.” 

“well… hurry up and get back to eating.” you gesture to rafe. you talked about having kids after marriage, but this was the first time since your wedding that rafe brought up actually bringing them into the world.

you both rush through the rest of your meals, leaving the dishes on the table to be taken care of tomorrow as rafe sweeps you into his arms, carrying you up the stairs with ease. he sets you down on the bed, his lips connecting with yours as he works on taking off his pants, throwing them in the general direction of his hamper before pulling away to pull your shirt off over your head.

“i can’t fucking wait to see you all filled up with my kid.” rafe says, massaging your breasts through your bra, unable to keep his hands off of them, even to take off the fabric covering them.

“need that so bad, rafey.” you whimper. you’ve always wanted to be a mom, and it feels like the perfect time to make that dream a reality.

“gotta fuck you now, princess.” rafe says, quickly taking his shirt off, his cock already completely hard as he pulls his underwear down, clearly excited to put a baby into you.

you reach behind your back to take your bra off before sliding your leggings and underwear down in one go, needing rafe just as desperately as he needs you. you move up the bed, resting your head on the pillow as rafe moves to hover over you. 

“i would eat you out or finger you but i need this right now.” rafe says, reaching down to rub at your clit as his tip presses against your entrance.

“i need you right now too.” you tell him, letting out a moan as he pushes in, moving slowly to let you adjust. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, rafes chest heaving with deep breaths, trying to control himself.

“you can move.” you tell rafe after a minute. he doesn’t give even a second for your comment to sit before he is thrusting in and out, making your joint moans echo throughout the room.

rafe presses sloppy kisses against yours, lips vibrating together when you’re both unable to hold back your noises of pleasure. “feels so good.” you whimper, his thumb still rubbing against your clit, never stopping making you feel good.

“i know it does, princess.” rafe says. “you’re doing so good for me. gonna fill you up real good.” “you’re gonna be the best daddy.” you tell rafe, and its true, you know just from the way he treats you, how he straightened out and takes care of you, that he’s going to be an amazing dad.

“fuck-” rafe curses, somehow able to move faster, slamming in and out of you, annihilating your cunt with the ferocity he is thrusting into you at. rafe is grunting with the effort he is giving as you grip his shoulders tightly, sure to leave red marks from your nails come morning.

“gonna go fucking crazy, your pussy is so good.” rafe says, as if he hasn’t already gone crazy with the way he’s fucking into you.

“keep rubbing rafe, i’m close.” you moan, back arching off the bed as his thumb rubs over your clit easily due to your slick.

“cum for me princess.” rafe begs you, needing to feel your cunt squeeze around him. you’d never deny your husband as he rubs you to orgasm, entire body shaking as your high hits you, moaning wildly as rafes cock maintains its blistering pace.

as soon as your clit pulses underneath his finger and your back settles back against the bed, rafe moves, pulling out briefly to reposition you, slotting his hands underneath your knees and pushing your legs up and open, spreading your cunt wide for him before his cock reenters you.

he begins to thrust immediately, keeping up the aggressive, feral pace. you’re so sensitive from your orgasm but you can’t complain when you know he’s working to get his cum inside of you, to fill you up, to grow your family.

“gonna cum.” rafe warns briefly, his words slurred out, his eyes half lidded from the ecstasy of your cunt as he pushes in for a final time, shooting his cum as deep as he can, leaning forward and pressing you into the mattress, not even caring as your thighs burn from the stretch.

rafe grinds himself into you until there is nothing more to release, moving your legs back to a more comfortable position but keeping his dick buried deep inside of you.

rafe looks at you with a smile, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. “gotta make sure it takes.”

[writing-in-glitter-pen]

This Garden You've Grown ❀

Wriothesley catches you where you shouldn't be, little did he know, you were just the right person, in just the right place.

wriothesley x fem!reader II fluff, romance

part two ♡ part three ♡

"I'll need you to come with me, miss."

You whirled around, a basket full of perfectly bloomed tulips clutched in your hand. Before you stood a large, burly-figured man, dawning a set of spiky cuffs and a grim expression. You recognized this man as none other than Wriothesley---Duke of the Fortress Meropide. But what did he want with you?

All you had been doing was enjoying your time in your favorite spot outside the city---a small plot in a lush expanse of fields you'd made your own personal garden; growing all sorts of plants, including the pretty pink tulips you'd just been harvesting. You'd found this place a handful of months ago on a stroll outside The Court of Fontaine's grounds---needing a break from city life. It was so easy to get wrapped up in the buzz of the bustling streets and forget the beauty of nature. You'd decided it was a waste to leave a perfectly fertile field unused, so you began your garden.

...that you were now being arrested in.

"Excuse me?", you asked politely, needing clarification as to why he wanted to take you away.

"You heard me, don't make this difficult.", the duke had an irritated look on his face, like he was reprimanding a bratty child that knows better than to do what they did.

...but really you had no clue what you did!

You frantically squabbled to find your words as he descended on you---his strides slow but covering much more distance than your quick, short legs could as you scurried backwards away from him. Once he reached grabbing distance from you, preparing his cuffs as his large hand gripped your squishy bicep, you managed to squeak out, "but what did I do?" as he dragged you to him.

For a moment, he haulted his actions, holding you against him and taking in your genuinely perplexed, even fearful expression. Had you really not known what you were doing?

"You're trespassing on restricted grounds.", he clarified.

Your face paled.

"...I am?", you asked, panic rising to your throat.

He nodded sternly, "These grounds are property of the city, common folk are not allowed to enter without licensed permission,", he leaned over slightly to peer into your basket, "even if it is just to pick tulips.".

Your mouth fell open as you looked between your basket and Wriothesley, whose intimidating attention on you was beginning to make you feel suffocated. All you could manage to come up with in your anxious brain frog was, "Oh...". Your mind was screaming---you couldn't go to Meropide, not over this!

The clear horror and confusion in your eyes, paired with how you'd begun to shake in his grip stilled him. Normally, this is when criminals would start pleading for their freedom, making bribes to circumvent the law, but you just froze like a deer in headlights.

From where he stood, it appeared that you'd been knowingly stealing properly-grown-goods from a city-owned field with the possible intent to sell them; but the innocent expression on your face told him otherwise. If selling your stolen goods was truly was your intent, you wouldn't relinquish them without a price. So he decided to run a little test.

"Maybe, if you offered me those tulips, I could look the other way.".

He braced for your bartering, your indignance or anger...

...what he didn't expect was your forlorn expression; how your eyes became heavy as you looked down at your flowers, your poor lip quivering as you held out your basket for him to take without hesitation.

A criminal wouldn't relinquish their goods so readily, and they definitely wouldn't look so broken hearted over something they'd merely stolen.

No, these flowers were special to you.

In any other case, he wouldn't have hesitated or cared about motives when prosecuting a trespasser...but something about you moved him.

His hand gingerly covered yours and pushed your basket back to your chest.

"I can see these are important to you, and you have no ill-intent, but you're still breaking the law by coming here.", he looked dissapointed---you were a perfectly good person, and you'd looked so happy before he showed up; you didn't deserve this.

You quickly nodded, hope in your eyes as you squeezed your basket tighter, "I'm sorry! I won't come back!".

The duke let out a long sigh, but nodded---satisfied with your answer. He felt guilty for ruining your fun, he hadn't known you'd get so scared over something so minor. He wished he'd handled you more delicately. "Don't go taking anything else from the field...but you can keep the flowers you picked. I won't tell.".

There was hesitation in your eyes as you looked up at him cautiously, "...you're sure?".

"Of course. I couldn't deprive you of something you clearly love so much.". Though his words were kind, his stern expression did not leave his face---maintaining his rough law-man exterior so as not to look soft in the face of crime.

"Thank you..." you said, your voice almost like a whisper as you touched the soft petals of the flowers you'd nurtured to full growth, then looked back at the rest of your field sorrowfully. This was a goodbye to your project---to the little respite you'd made for youself outside the city.

His eyebrows furrowed, you looked like your house had just burnt to the ground before your eyes. There had to be something he was missing.

"...if I may ask, why would you risk trespassing in a restricted area just to pick flowers? Did you think you wouldn't get caught? Or did you just not care about the rules?", you felt the rumble of his gruff voice in your chest---having just realized you were still pressed right up against him.

You looked down bashfully, half from your proximity to the dashing, rugged gentleman, and the other half from the admission you were about to make.

"...I wasn't aware this area was restricted...I'd actually planted this garden quite a while ago. I've been coming back every day to care for it ever since.". You were nervous that the details of your situation that you were disclosing might get you into greater trouble, but you couldn't just leave your garden with no one to care for it---at least if you're honest, the city might hire someone to nurture it in your stead, rather than just leaving it to die.

If you looked closely, you could see a twinkle of realization in the duke's eyes, though he masked it well.

"...I see...", not only did you not intend to tresspass, you weren't actually stealing either. All of this garden, save for the ground it is planted on, belongs to you. "I'm willing to make an exception for you, but in the future, make sure you're aware of the laws and regulations before you enter a restricted area.".

You nodded obidiently, something Wriothesley approved of in criminals, but made his heart twinge with guilt seeing a person with good intentions like you comply out of intimidation.

"I understand, sir. I'll vacate immediately."

You'd begun to step away from him, but he easily pulled you back, drawing your concerned gaze. You wondered if there was something else you had to do to right your mistake; was he going to have you tear up your beloved garden as well? That would truly devastate you.

He was quiet for a moment as he looked on at your lush garden and weighed his decision in his mind. Then, he looked back down into your innocent, breathtakingly adorable eyes and spoke, "...you may continue your gardening as long as you don't expand it. Don't go past the tilled land.", he pointed the boundary out to you, "Understand?".

His eyes widened as he met your gaze once again; he didn't think your eyes could get any prettier, but the way they glittered in excitement had his heart doing summersaults---and your pleased smile filled him with a sense of accomplishment.

You nodded gratefully, it was like he'd just given you the world, "I understand. Thank you so much for letting me keep it."

With that, he nodded curtly, then turned to leave; he didn't want to bother you more than he already had.

But before he could exit the grounds, you piped up, "...would you like to see what else I'm growing?".

You'd caught him by surprise; he slowly turned back to face you, taking a moment to process the question, before nodding, "Sure. Love to.". That sense of accomplishment once again bloomed in his chest as his simple agreement to be given a tour of your project brought the brightest smile to your face.

You quickly ushered him over, looping your arm through his to tote him from destination to destination; pointing out the various plants you'd been growing and telling him about each and every one.

"These are cherry heirloom tomatoes; they're a little more citrussy and sweet than regular tomatoes, and obviously, they're teeny. I like putting them in salads.", you picked one off the vine and held it up for him to try. He inspected it for a moment, before cleaning it on his shirt and popping it into his mouth. His eyes lit up as the taste hit him---these were really good. Better than anything he could buy at the market, that's for sure. You continued on with your little tour, "This is lavender---it smells wonderful.".

He chuckled at your interesting collage of plants, "the tomatoes I can understand, but what's with the lavender?", he didn't find much point in growing anything inedible in a garden.

The sun perfectly illuminated your rosy cheeks and cheerful smile as you beamed up at him, "The smell helps me sleep, and sometimes I like to dry bundles of it and give them away as gifts.".

His expression once again became thoughtful and judicial before he replied, "If you have trouble sleeping, then by all means, grow as much lavender as you want. But you can't go giving them out to the public.". He felt guilty for suddenly imposing all these rules onto your passion project, but it was his job to maintain order. You didn't oppose, only nodded in understanding.

"Ok, I won't give any away...", you reached down and picked a few vibrant purple, fully bloomed sprigs, then sinched them together with a little roll of twine you keep in your gardening basket, "...but would it be ok if I gave you some?". You outstretched you hand to him, head tilted as your eyes almost begged him to take the gift.

You were such a sweetheart.

"...you don't have to, but if you really want to give me some lavender, you can..." he carefully took the bundle from your outstretched hand---his fingers brushing yours in a way that made your cheeks turn pink, "I won't refuse.". Your eyes widened in surprise when he flashed you a wolffish grin, this was the first time his stoic expression broke. You were dazzled.

You found yourselves admiring one another in silence; you were infatuated with his smile, he was infatuated with your kind, gentle expression. For a moment, it felt like both your hearts were beating as one---racing together through your chests...and you two were standing awfully close for strangers.

You'd lost yourself so completely in him, you didn't realize how long you'd been standing like that. Once you came to your senses, you shook your head right and looked away from him shyly as you found your words, "If you put it in a vase beside your bed, it'll help you fall asleep...".

He continued to admire you as his grin became a softer smile. No one had ever offered him lavender as a gift before, and your desire to help him sleep peacefully touched him, even though it wasn't a problem he struggled with.

"Thank you. You really didn't have to do that."

The duke's mind was practically spinning with new emotions. You were pretty, sure, but your sweet nature, your compulsion for compassion, your friendliness to someone who is not only a stranger, but had nearly been an assailant not too long ago, reached deeply into him and practically claimed his heart just as you had claimed this garden.

It was yours now---because of what you cultivated in it.

Your smile really couldn't get more wonderful, but the doting look you gave him made him sigh contentedly.

"I know I didn't have to, I wanted to! You've been so generous with me, I want to be generous with you too..."

Wriothesley, who had never been in love before, wouldn't have guessed that a single meeting with a stranger could make him fall so hard. He had only just met you, but he felt like he'd been searching for you forever, and in a way, that means he's already known you longer than anyone else.

If he could stay in this garden with you forever, he would, but he had important duties that demanded his attention. Regretably, he had to take his leave.

He flashed you one last charming smile before parting with you.

"Thank you...I won't forget this.".

He felt like he had to assure you; like promising he'd keep them was promising he wasn't going to let you go. He cherished the grateful smile you gave him, and with one last wave, he departed.

...he'd have to patrol this area more often.