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#selfless assistance
natasha-in-space · 10 months
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My laptop got unplugged before I could save my progress... Guess this will remain a sketch forever now, sob
Anyway, a scene from a rp I did with a friend recently. Ray often ends up taking Natasha's doze of elixir if she gets in trouble with the Savior. She does not appreciate him putting his safety on the line like that. He hates the idea of her getting hurt in turn. They end up having an emotional argument instead of working.
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the-ic-corner · 1 year
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.... Ante is too good for these guys
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the27percent · 1 year
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Where should you be kissed?
palm.
you give and give. you are a gentle heart, broken but still standing... always lending a hand for those who need it, expecting nothing in return. you deserve someone taking your hand and kissing your open palm, the hands which have selflessly helped so many others
Tagged by: @reddragon-cowboy
Tagging: you
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The good Samaritan
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efy727 · 1 month
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A little self-indulgent comic I made to cope with A New Wish's season finale. SPOILERS
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The night after watching the episode, I immediately thought scenarios for Dev and Peri to reunite. I already liked Hazel's and Dev's friendship, but him getting Peri honestly made things more interesting since he'll get more involved in the show.
Dev losing Peri devastated me, since that also meant losing his memory. I was kind of expecting it due knowing the other show the writers worked on (Infinity Train, which I love). This is the second season finale to mess me up this much, in fact.
This was the first scenario I came up with, based on other's ideas on how Peri could be present to Dev as a human. I also added the theory that Dev didn't get his memory erased. I made Peri wear something that fitted the role of babysitter (in my opinion). An alternative would be Dale's new assistant/intern, in which he'll used the same clothes as his fairy form, but with a bow tie and the wand pen.
I sort of rushed the dialogue and made it quite cheesy near the end. I didn't want it to be too long as I want to make more fan art for the show, but also finish my months long project.
Another scenario I liked was that Dev (with memories intact) is secretly sabotaging Project H and his selfless deeds allow him to get Peri back, may be after a legal dispute in the Fairy Court.
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callmemickey · 1 year
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Cumming Home for Christmas
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synopsis: Simon surprised you by being home 3 weeks early, which means you get to take him to your family’s Christmas get together! Unfortunately, Simon hasn’t had his fill of you… How thin do you think the walls are in the bathroom?
content: Afab, porn w a plot, smut (dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, quickie, slightly public? maybe other stuff idk) fluff fluff fluff kind of angst if you squint real hard he just loves you sm my sweet Angel babey reader muah love u 2
word count: 3.7k
notes: Don’t ask me why I chose Christmas this is purely self-indulgent. Also, he’s a brunette going off of the comics, so I’m running with that thx!
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Warm Christmas lights, sparkling ciders and the expensive alcohol, the soft hum of cozy Christmas jazz on the speakers, family buzzing and soaking in each other’s presence - there was nothing else you could ask for. In this massive sea of black and red formal attire, your family, both close and extended, came together for an amazing holiday party at your grandparents’ estate.
Simon, who surprised you by coming home over three weeks early, has accompanied you as your plus one to the family’s holiday party. It made the event even better. Your family adored Simon to bits and pieces, constantly embarrassing you in front of him, begging to know when he wanted to start a family with you, your aunts drinking too much and asking him to take off his coat and flex. He dealt with the melting pot of clashing personalities better than you had ever imagined.
Simon expertly handled the socializing carefully and precisely. He preferred to be an observer in these bigger settings rather than to speak. He gave simple answers that were concise one liners, saving his social battery. So, to make up for it, he would escape to assist anybody needing aid. When dinner was ready, he assisted in the kitchen, making sure that everybody had their meals first, and was later caught cleaning the kitchen (much to your displeasure). He also helped light your grandfather’s cigar outside. The Parkinson’s has been making it difficult for him to light them on his own, and Simon even listened to an old war story.
It was unbelievable how much you loved this man.
Now, nieces and nephews weaved between adults and furniture, the fireplace burned hot and strong, people laughed and yelled happily over the gentle music, and the scent of baking pies and pastries wafted and filled the air. Your lovely military fiancé, overworked and tired on his break, did so well to deal with this. Of course, Simon, being an incredibly selfless person willing to compromise in any situation or scenario just to make you happy, said that it was alright when you invited him. “Nothing would make me happier,” he had said in a low, roughened voice - which was right before he buried his face between your legs.
But I digress.
Simon stood next to you as your uncle told you both in absolute monotony about his recent trip to Italy, “So beautiful. Your aunt Amelia and I want to get a vacation home there.” He finished, and you nodded awkwardly. “Sounds like you and aunt Millie had a great time, uncle Mike.” Your tone was dry while Simon nodded and hummed in response. He just wasn’t… very present.
Simon had his attention and focus set on pretty high at the beginning of the night, but he was able to relax a little bit since then, to let himself just be in the moment - or so the psychiatrist says he should. He was actively paying attention to the conversation, yes that is true, but the hand holding your waist began to… wander, a little bit. Slowly at first, but much faster now. With a hand that started on your shoulder in the beginning of the night, bit by bit lowered down your back, smoothing above the top of your ass and to your hip. Fingers pressing deep into the black velvet of your dress, Simon tried to keep you caged next to him. That didn’t matter though, because you would have done little to resist him.
You two shared a quick glance. His dark brown eyes were slightly glossed, his gaze a salaciousness that he always brings home. Ooh, it made you want to rub your thighs together just to feel something. You nodded again to your uncle Mike when he brought up something else that was equally boring. Simon, having a better idea and use for his time, suddenly seemed to have remembered something, “Apologies, Mike, but Y/N and I have to make an important phone call.” You looked up at him.
That brief look in his eye was so, so hungry. The greed brewed like a dark storm. You felt a hot chill race down your spine, your core began to burn. You acted as if you remembered the same ‘something’ as well. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we almost forgot!” You gasped in a low voice. His fingers squeezed your hip, making your chest slowly fall into shallow breaths as you could imagine him purring in your ear.
Good girl.
You two waved him off as you turned to leave the kitchen. Simon took the wine glass from your hand and placed it on the countertops as you two walked through the doorway. His hand pressed on your lower back, guiding you into the dark hallway. The armoire in the middle lit with warm candles that smelled of cinnamon and spiced apples, casting shadows that bounced and flickered across the walls. It helped light your way to the restroom, but it also kept you two enveloped in shadows to help hide whatever sins you were going to commit. Simon, without a word, opened the bathroom, and with nobody inside, he sweeped you in, locking the door behind you two.
The bathroom had warm string lights strung across the crown molding, and a window with fake candles sat high on the wall. The room was a little loud with the echoes, so you smacked the switch on the wall to turn the fan on, hoping to mask whatever sounds were going to flood the room.
Not even a second, in such a calculated move, Simon plucked his mask off and had your lips locked with his as he hoisted you onto the sink counter. All you could do in that flurry of movement was gasp, his hands gingerly holding your jaw as his mouth worked against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist, sighing as you felt a hardened tent in his trousers press eagerly against your clothed cunt.
You ran your hands through his dark brown hair, a moan running from you into him as his hands gave your ass a harsh squeeze. He ground his hips into you, pulling a whimper from you as he pressed roughly against your thrumming clit. Simon broke from your mouth, kissing your neck as his fingers pushed up into your dress, grabbing your panties.
“Quiet - or they’ll hear us,” he whispered against your flesh. You panted with a nod as he slipped your panties off, tossing them onto the floor along with his jacket. Simon quickly unbuttoned his white sleeves, rolling them up to reveal his heavily veined forearms, his one arm tattooed with black. He expertly undid his belt, pulling his pants and underwear down slightly, his hardened cock springing free.
He kept kissing your neck, lightly sucking to tease but not enough to hickey or bruise. His fingers dipped into your embarrassingly wet sex, rubbing at your clit and folds before pushing two fingers into you. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, so wet already.” His voice was a growl against your neck, slowly pumping them, his fingers rubbing up against that spongy spot inside.
It caused you to mewl. Simon’s one hand jumped to cup your mouth shut, making you gasp. The movement threw you off balance, your upper back falling back to press against the mirror while grabbing onto his wrist for support. He continued to finger you and hold your mouth closed, your whimpers mumbled in his hand.
Just as quick as you just started grinding your hips, he pulled his fingers away. A disappointed moan left broken up between your mouth and his palm. Simon grabbed his cock and started to pump himself, lubricating it with your juices before rubbing against your clit. He moved his hand from your mouth down to your hip.
You whimpered, “Oh my god, Simon.” Your hips wriggled and bucked against the dizzying sensation. He chuckled, slowly pressing his cock into your hot, wet cunt. The familiar stretch made you hum in need. “You’re gonna tease me? On Christmas?” You whined, your legs once again wrapped around his hips, urging him to sink into you.
“Ahh, have you been a good girl, though?” He asked in a low rumble, his other hand grabbing the other hip, his prepared stance making your hole clench around his member. He had a half-lidded stare, swirling with a level of lust you couldn’t really see the end of - bottomless and ravenous. Simon towered over you.
“I’m always a good girl for you, Simon,” You cooed.
He slowly pushed in, making you inhale sharply as you stretched so wide to allow him to fit. You held your breath as he pushed his cock through. “I’m just teasing, love - I know you’ll always be my good girl,” he said with warmth in his voice.
His tip kissed your cervix as he nestled fully, deeply, completely. Your head rolled back on the mirror as a satisfied sigh escaped you, but Simon’s grip on your hips tightened intensely. You gasped as he began a fast pace, his hips slapping loudly against your thighs and echoing in the bathroom. It was almost too much. It gave you little time to prepare for his entering, but you settled nicely around him after a few more thrusts.
Simon wasn’t normally this fast. He loved to hit with hard strokes, but nothing typically of this pace. Fortunately, you weren’t one to complain. It was so goddamn good. You hate it when your fiancé is away, not knowing where he was for most of the time, but when he’s gone for so long and comes back? Fuck. It’s criminal how good the sex is. His impatience made it impeccable.
But you were desperate. You wanted to cry and moan and yell, to beg and pray for him to bring you to a higher plane of pleasure. Oh, God, you would do anything for it, anything for him. You grasped at his forearms, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving stinging crescent moon shaped imprints in their path. He groaned lightly at your sharp grip, a soft chuckle coming from him. “Oh, you like this?” He asked, and you nodded, biting your lower lip to keep anything but your gasps, pants, and squeaks from escaping.
“Touch yourself,” his voice wasn’t harsh, but it was a demand.
With one hand still on Simon’s arm, the other moved to your clit, and you began to rub in quick circles. Simon watched your face twist and change: your mouth hanging open as you panted, but occasionally closed to bite your lip so to stop yourself from moaning; eyes half-lidded, barely open, glazed, and painfully horny; back bowing and arching, your toes curling, body just at a loss at what it can handle. This was Simon’s favorite view in the world. It’s what he came home for. It’s what he fought for.
A moan tumbled from your mouth as you held on for dear life. “S-Simon!” You whined his name, the heat inside of you burning red hot, uncontrolled, and rampant.
“S’alright love,” his voice was soft, “you gonna cum?”
You nodded quickly, the fingers on your clit stuttering as you found your release fast approaching, his almost brutal pace not slowing in the slightest. “I’m gonna c- ah- cum, Simon!” You struggled not to say too loud. “Don't stop!”
“Come on, Y/N,” he ushered, “cum for me.” Simon knew how to drive you over the edge. His hand reached out, firmly but gently cupping over your mouth to keep your head in place - and to push back your lascivious sounds.
A moan found itself trapped, lodged in your throat as you fought with your whole might not to yell and cry out. Your orgasm ripped through and crashed over you like a tsunami. He had unraveled you.
Your back arched, and you couldn’t roll your head back. Your lashes flickered as you struggled to keep your eyes from crossing or rolling back to look at Simon while you came. The fingers you had on your clit stopped moving as you were paralyzed, but the grip you had on his forearm stayed strong, “Ahhh, fuckin’ look at you. That’s a good girl, cummin’ nice and pretty on my cock. You like that, yeah?” He groaned, hips putting in more power to drill into your tightened pussy, tears pricking at your eyes as the orgasm left your legs shaking around him.
Simon retracted his hand, grabbing back at your hip. You let out a quick, small cry as your free hand held back onto his forearm. “Y’alright, love?” He grunted, and you nodded furiously before he could stop, but he started slowing down. You didn’t want him too. “Need- I need you,” you gasped, “don’t stop, Simon.” You whimpered.
Oh, to be buried deep inside your pussy was all he could have ever hoped for upon coming home. Y/N, ever so kind and giving. Simon tightened his hands around your hips again and began the brutal pace as you struggled to keep silent.
That’s when you felt your body heating up again. Your sex thrummed with the building pleasure and excitement once more, causing you to moan while you held onto his wrists. A light sheen of sweat sat on your skin, your clothes sticking uncomfortably to your flesh.
Simon moaned softly with a smirk, your fucked out expression and legs lazily clinging onto his hips was such an amazing sight. The snapping of him against you had beat your pussy red, leaving it angrily aroused. “You gonna cum again? Yeah? Ahhh, thas my needy girl.” Desperate, tiny grunts popped out of you with each thrust, your pussy swallowing Simon deeply.
“Si-Simon! Gonna- c-cum!” You gasped out with each pump. 
Your orgasm hit like a rapid flash of heat and pleasure. A squeal escaped you, and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand. Your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled back, legs around Simon’s waist tightened, your whole body trembled from his unrelenting pace. Your face was flushed red, eyes completely glazed and lost as your hair stuck to your face.
“Ah, f-fuck, so fuckin’ tight. So good - my girl is so good, God, cummin’ on my cock, just like that.” He growled, his hips slowly beginning to fall off rhythm while his orgasm began to creep up on him.
You moaned and begged, “Ah, Simon, nngh, I-I can’t- please cum!”
“Don’t you worry, g-gonna cum inside this pretty pussy,” Simon groaned, “gonna fill you up, yeah?”
You nodded furiously as your body screamed in overstimulation. “Please, I- ah! Too much, ah, you’re too much, Simon!” You cried out, your ever tightening cunt being stretched open, begging for his release.
“Y/N- Y/N, fuck!” He hissed as his hips slammed against you, tightly holding his cock against your cervix as if he was threatened to be ripped away. He groaned, emptying himself into you completely, his cock jerking and flexing harshly, making the veins on his shaft more pronounced. You whimpered, your cunt tensing around him as you felt hot waves shooting inside of you. He stayed for a moment while panting, his thighs shaking slightly, relishing in the feeling as oxytocin and dopamine flooded his brain. Simon pulled out, a throaty groan leaving you at the sudden emptiness, your legs letting go of him.
“Well… let’s hope nobody heard that.” Simon said in a low voice, pulling up his underwear and pants, buckling his belt and grabbing your panties for you. You slid off of the sink and inhaled sharply as your knees buckled. He immediately latched onto your arms, making sure you wouldn’t fall. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, y’alright?” He asked, slowly loosening his grip to make sure you were okay on your own.
“My legs, Simon. Jesus Christian Christ - I can’t stand.” You huffed, leaning against the sink, glowering at him as you took your panties from his hand, embarrassed.
He unrolled his sleeves, buttoning them. “You’re really gonna talk like that? On Jesus’ birthday?” He looked at you as he grabbed his jacket, shaking his head. “What would your nan say, hmm?” He feigned sincerity, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he swung the jacket on.
“Well, the jokes on you because Christmas isn’t even Jesus’ birthday.” You snapped back at him, slowly sliding your underwear on as your knees shook like a newborn giraffe. He tutted in disapproval as he moved up to you.
Simon’s body was close, his body radiating warmth. He wasn’t one for a lot of physical affection, which was alright, so when he took the time to be attentive to you… you always melted against him immediately. His finger lightly hooked under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. Your body subconsciously gravitated towards him, like a moth seeing the moon for the very first time.
He leaned down, lips brushing so close to yours, your eyes still connected . “Fuck what day it really is - I just know I’m home.” Simon pushed in for a deep kiss, brimming with emotions, the kinds he couldn’t really say. As he pulled away, he couldn’t help but admire you.
The golden candlelight fluttered across his face. His tired but warm eyes studied you, as if seeing you for the first time, memorizing and mapping every freckle, wrinkle, and spot, because he’s scared that the moment he looks away, he’ll forget. He took in your flushed, messy appearance as if God himself sent down a heavenly body to give him a reason not just to fight, but to live; an angel on its mission as a guide, and he would willingly martyr himself on the ground at your feet if it meant he could just hear you say his name. Once.
Simon wanted to say these things, but he wouldn’t. He might never. But that’s alright, too. Not everyone is meant to love so boldly.
You cocked an eyebrow as he stared at you so intensely. “You okay there, Lieutenant?” You asked, a small smile on your lips.
He realized that, yes, it was alright that he didn’t say those things. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t have to - you just knew. Everyday he thought about how he didn’t deserve you. You, ever so loyal and strong. You’ve given him a purpose, motive, after all of these years - alone.
He often wondered what he had done to deserve having someone like you in his life. Someone who loved and cultivated, with hands of soft mercy, so tender and kind. A voice of validation, honesty, reason, all stemming from your unconditional love. If he had met you years ago, before the therapy and psychiatry helped, he would’ve let your fingers prick and bleed as you grasped at his thorns while he plucked you of your petals, leaving you broken and bare.
He didn’t deserve you.
Simon returned the smile, his voice soft, “Never better.” His hands moved to hold your waist as you two shared a few more kisses. “You know I like it when you call me that,” he hummed in between the lip locking.
You moaned gently and teasingly bit his bottom lip, your hands pressing against and gliding up his shirt. You kissed his jawline and sighed, “Is that so, Lieutenant Riley?”
He squeezed your waist in a warning. “Careful, love, we don’t have time for round two. Save it for tonight.” Your pussy purred just as Simon pulled away, picking up the mask from the sink and putting it back on in an attempt to obscure his identity.
You hummed, legs still a little shaken. “Well, I might need a minute to get my feet under me. You… okay with managing my family alone?” You asked hesitantly, eyes slightly squinting as if to flinch. He studied you for a moment, eyes glancing you up and down. It made you a little self-conscious, causing you to shift.
“Of course, Y/N,” his tone was reassuring, and subtly professional, “you sure you want me to leave you? Just say the word, love.”
Your body relaxed a little, and you nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need a minute.”
Simon faltered, if for a moment, before he gave you a soft squeeze on the arm, and left. You sighed, turning to lean onto the counter and fix your hair in the mirror. Your legs really were shaking, much to your surprise. Yes, yes, Simon makes you shake plenty, but he doesn’t always fuck that hard, if rarely. You couldn’t be more embarrassed. Sending your fiancé, who is not the biggest people-person, back to the wolves, but it’d be more embarrassing if you walked out there in your current state.
You fixed your dress and made sure you were able to stand properly again after a few minutes. Making sure your hair, makeup, and dress were all still together, you left the bathroom with caution. You quietly snuck down the hallway, back against the wall. You got to the doorway and peeked around the corner to peer into the party.
You don’t know how long you were in the bathroom for as the crowd surprisingly died down. Family members left for home, hotels, or whatever bedrooms your grandparents had available, so the end-of-the-night afterparty was intimate and calm. You inched into the room, eyes falling on Simon, who was outside with your grandfather, lighter in his hand.
You smiled gingerly as your mother called you over. “Sweetie, everybody loves Simon. I know he isn’t much of a talker, or a hugger, but he made a great impression.” Her voice was filled with warmth and happiness, and she spoke in a hushed tone. “He also listens to your grandfather’s stories, bless his heart.” She cooed. Your mother continued to speak, but her voice drowned out as you watched your future husband.
Simon stood at ease, with his hands held together and relaxed behind him as your grandfather engaged him in a story, puffing his cigar shakily as his hands trembled while he was animated. It was so calm and serene, watching him nod, the ghost of his jawline moving beneath the mask as he spoke. Your heart fluttered as Simon’s eyes flicked over and locked onto you, giving a little wink before turning his attention back to the present conversation.
Okay, you’re definitely sitting on his face tonight.
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akutasoda · 5 months
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HELLOO
can I request a S/o who always puts others before herself and always gets hurt and injured after :3
you're selfless, im selfish
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synopsis - you're rather selfless and they hate seeing you get hurt because of this
includes - blade, luocha, aventurine, boothill
warnings - gn!reader, fluff, angstyy, slight blood mentions, wc - 968
a/n: Hellooo! you didn't specify and i am currently on a massive star rail fixation so i hope you don't mind! if you do please let me know and i'll write another!
taglist - @teddirika, @frankiesteinn, @little-miss-chaoss
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blade ★↷
↪blade was immortal. he had little care for how many pieces he could be broken down into during a fight as at the end of the day he knew he would still walk away as a blade. weapon's were built to be durable, what kind of 'blade' would he be if he let up at the first sign of danger?
↪he was also used to thinking about nobody but himself, the stellaron hunters became the first exception but he knew they'd be able to take care fo themselves. so it made him suspicious when you'd willingly put him before yourself as what could you possibly gain by doing so?
↪it didn't occur to him just how angry he would get when he watched you get injured for the sake of his safety. not at you despite how much it semed that way. a weapon's job was to protect in a violent manner and his enemies quickly learnt that, especially when his shield would get hurt.
↪he would scold you for throwing yourself into dangerous situations but moved with a gentle contrast as he dressed your wounds. he'd remind you time and time again that he didn't need you to think about his safety, let alone others, and you should worry about yours.
↪but he knew he wouldn't be able to stop you completely and so he would swear that he himself would protect you at all costs despite your insistence of putting him before you.
luocha ★↷
↪despite the coffin that shadowed the merchant, luocha was a healer. someone who followed yaoshi and valued that selfless, healing behaviour and that meant assisting those among the cosmo's in medical affairs for a fair exchange - he was also a wandering merchant afterall
↪he found it rather endearing at first, how you always put those you cared about above yourself. it was rather admirable but he thought less of this trait when it applied to battles. he would prefer you to be selfish and uncaring if it meant you didn't get unnecessarily harmed.
↪especially when it came to you throwing yourself straight into danger for his sake. luocha feared that one day you'd throw yourself into danger for the sake of someone else and he would lose you - he didn't want to carry around two coffins now.
↪he would start subconsciously keeping track of you during dangerous situations, he needed to make sure you didn't do anything too risky. although he didn't mind catering to your injuries, he'd prefer not to stare at his lover's bloody cuts and bruises or whatever injury you accumulated for too long.
↪the merchant may admire that selfless behaviour but allow him to be selfish for once when he places a kiss to your knuckles after dressing your wounds and asking you to stay by his side, to not leave him if he can't get to you in time.
aventurine ★↷
↪aventurine strived to follow the path of preservation, it was a goal of his. achieving this goal was solely for the purpose of protecting his people and those who had helped his journey not hindered it. so when he learnt his original quest was impossible, he needed to strive for something else.
↪he wanted to protect many things and his relationship with you was one of them. at first, he relished in that kindness you showed when you would openly admit or demonstrate how you would always place him above yourself - your selflessness was rather admirable.
↪but he didn't like as much when it meant you'd get hirt in the process. he would not be able to bear losing yet another person he cared about, especially when he had the power to prevent it - especially if you died for him.
↪most of the time, he would be able to prevent you from getting to hurt but crimson was an ugly colour on his lover and he felt a small sense of guilt when he saw it after a fight. you would notice how he'd always be shielding you if you ever threw yourself in danger.
boothill ★↷
↪only two people knew what happened to boothill, himself and the doctor - although some times he didn't think he knew himself. however one thing was clear, he had suffered an amount of pain that pushed his human body to it's limits and bended it to a point of no return. now, he didn't live for himself.
↪recklessness was what probably had landed him in this situation, however when one has a cyborg body how could he not be reckless? he found it rather charming how you always put those close to you above yourself, a noble quality but his perspective changed when he realised just what that meant.
↪he had seen first hand just how little you cared for your safety if it meant protecting someone you cared about. a bittersweet sentiment. it pained his synthetic heart when you would come from a fight all injured and bloody as if it was him in your shoes, he'd be fine. but you had willingly thrown yourself in the way for his safety.
↪he had a metal body, you had a human one - if anything he should be throwing himself in the way as he could be rebuilt. boothill would try so hard to get this message across to you as the last thing he wanted was for you to be pushed to those same limits of pain just for someone who had already been there.
↪he would'nt live for himself but he'd live for you if it meant keeping you safe.
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utterlyotterlyx · 6 months
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Moth To A Flame
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Summary - Azriel has a new friend in the form of a diary to talk to, and you are completely enchanted to find out exactly what they talk about.
Warnings - F L U F F F F F F F F F F, pining, wholesome all round
Word Count - 4.1k
Based on this ask
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Winter Solstice was a magical time of year, one that had become even more meaningful with the additions of your ever-expanding family.
Before Feyre, it had just been you decorating the house and instructing Cassian to help you, scolding him when he would inevitably pop open a bottle of wine and find a nice couch to perch on whilst he barked unhelpful comments in your direction. The only good thing about Cassian's laziness was that Azriel would always show up to help you, whether that be resting his hands on your hips to keep you steady as you strung up the garlands, or getting on a ladder himself to reach the higher points that were beyond your reach, he was always there to assist.
Since Feyre, you were gifted with a band of women who wanted to help, Feyre reached the highest corners of the room, Elain made fresh garland rings from whatever she could find in the gardens of Velaris, and Nesta was meticulous in the placement of all of the decorations. Wine flowed and music played, and your heart had never felt so full and content.
That solstice had marked Nyx's fourth year within your special little family, and each year, the gifts had become more extravagant for the little one.
You had opted to stay in that morning and skip the annual snowball fight, choosing to watch it from the window with Elain as you both spent the morning preparing the meal you were going to feed to three huge Illyrian bats a few hours from then. Lucien had also opted to stay behind, his reason being to make sure that your wine glasses stayed full which earnt him a teasing glare from Azriel before his eyes flickered to you in silent conversation.
Snow floated down softly from the skies and you watched with a quiet giggle as you noticed Nyx reaching his little limbs upward to the sky in Feyre's arms, grasping at the flakes that were just in reach for him to capture. Then your watchful eye moved to Azriel, the male you were so irrevocably in love with who had no idea of your affections.
It was odd, for Azriel, a male who dreamed of a mate so badly, of real true love, to not see what had always been right in front of him. Though you had to give it to him, you weren't exactly forthcoming with your feelings in fear of being rejected.
Presents had been neatly arranged in piles, thanks to Lucien, and you had made sure to make everyone aware that each person had a certain coloured wrapping paper, you had told them it would make life easier since the family was too big now to spend time reading labels. Rhys had rolled his eyes at you, but pecked your cheek with a smirk at your usual perfectionist antics before agreeing and stalking off to make sure it was imperative to your plans that they do as told.
Life hadn't always been so perfect.
You had come from nothing, no family or title were bestowed to you, and you had unfortunately found yourself being sold to the Illyrian camps to entertain the males there before Rhys and his brothers had found you and taken you in. There was something about you that captivated them, and the more time they spent with you, getting to know you, the more they fell in love with everything that you were. Kind. Selfless. Loyal. Fierce. Their family wouldn't feel nearly as complete without you in it.
Azriel had smirked when they had re-entered the house, basking in the glow of another victory whilst you barked the exact place where they all needed to sit in front of their towering piles of presents. You had gone overboard again, you always did every year, showering them all in gifts which you never expected to be returned. That was the gift of you, all you wanted was for everyone else to be happy.
The house smelt divine. Baked chestnuts and cranberries, pine and candied oranges, and whatever honey you had put on the meat. All of their mouths were salivating at the thought of sitting down at that table and turning into feral beasts at the platter you had spent weeks planning and preparing.
A seamlessly planned gap had been created, a perfect moment for you all to sit down together and open your gifts before you bolted back into the kitchen and ordered Rhys to keep your wine topped up. It was the least he could do after all.
Your pile was nestled between Azriel and Mor's separate towers, the space on the deep seated sofa between them left free for you also. Azriel's eyes roamed your figure as you dipped into the kitchen and returned with a fresh glass of red wine, your bare feet padded along the floor and the short silver chrome dress that you had chosen to wear swayed with each step, grazing against your naked thighs.
Azriel thought that you were absolute perfection, to pure for their world, too pure for him to foolishly believe that he stood a chance with you.
Your scent drifted past him as you shimmied through the gap between his knees and the table, molten caramel apples and basil, a smell he could scent from any place he stood, no matter how far or near he was from you.
All of the piles were as you had ordered, in specific coloured papers, and the beaming smile on your face made all of the hassle of running about town worth it.
Everyone began opening their gifts in turn. Mor had flung her arms around you when she had opened a glittering red floor length dress that you had custom made for her. Feyre was beyond happy at the paintbrushes that you had inscribed her name into, Nesta was thrilled with her books, and Elain's bright eyes sifted through the cookbooks and ornate garden tools you had imported from Dawn. Another jewel for the firedrake and she was content, Cassian was audibly grateful for the armour you had gotten him which held a bit for flare than his current leathers, with golden sockets for his siphons which melted into the taut black leather of the skin.
Azriel shouldn't have been surprised when you went as far as to import delicacies from the Spring Court for Lucien, an assortment of baked goods and herbs that almost brought a tear to his eye. You knew how much Lucien missed being able to have a home, and you knew that Spring was the closest thing to a home he had ever had bar Elain.
Rhys howled in laughter when he unwrapped his matte black lint roller with a violet handle, promising to use it often before opening his real gift, a piece of art you had commissioned of himself, Feyre and Nyx at Starfall a year prior, covered in stardust and smiling brightly. Thoughtful as always.
Then you turned to Azriel, noticing he had opened most of his gifts apart from the ones that were clearly from you by the state of the perfectly wrapped edges and cobalt blue ribbons. He felt your eyes on him, pools of adoration he always found himself searching for, and he met your gaze as you handed him a small square box that rested in his palm.
Unwrapping it, navy velvet welcomed his eye and he looked at you with a small frown, listening to your silent urge to open it to find a thin onyx leather bracelet with a hot white glass pendent at its centre. The light swirled and danced like it was alive, growing more active as he inspected it. "What is it?"
Smiling, you took the bracelet from the box and secured it around his wrist, your touch alone sending electricity coursing through his veins, "I've been experimenting with my power," you told him softly as the room continued unphased in its own conversation like neither of you existed, "It's a piece of my soul," your fingers rested on his wrist and he felt his heart thump in his chest, "It's just so you know that you know I'm with you to light the way whenever you need it."
Azriel exhaled with disbelief, feeling unworthy of such a gift. A piece of your soul. So that you would always be with him.
"Y/N," he breathed, "This is- Thank you," he would give anything to be able to lean forward and capture your lips in his, but instead he restrained himself and reached for your own gift from him in your pile, wrapped in shiny silver paper with intricate embellishments of flower petals.
You hadn't opened a single gift yet, too entranced in everyone else to take a moment for yourself, but you obliged the man you adored so much and ripped open the paper that encased a long box.
Opening it, your eyes widened as you took in the blade in your fingers, an exact match to Truthteller but with a hilt of diamonds and beautifully forged embellishments, "I realised that you didn't have your own, I hope you never have to use it but just thought you'd like one," your stunned silence made him fidget with his fingers and he watched you carefully pick the blade up and turn it in your hands, "Do you like it?"
"I love it," it was beautifully lethal, just like you, "Thank you, Az. Really."
The afternoon continued and you couldn't stop glancing to the open lidded box on the table as you sat nestled under Azriel's wing, sipping from your wine as he opened his last gift, from Nesta, who was busy placing the new hairpins you had gotten her into her staple coronet. Azriel tore open the paper and tilted his head, looking up at the eldest Archeron sister who raised a brow and smirked, "It's a diary, Az. People use them to write down their thoughts and feelings, some people draw in them," you snorted at the condescension in her tone to which Azriel nudged your knee playfully before thanking her and thus wrapping up the present exchange.
It had shaped up to be the most perfect solstice any of you had ever seen.
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In the weeks that followed solstice, the snow melted away to give new life to the earth below, and the sun peeked out from the mountains to cascade Velaris in its heavenly glow.
During those weeks, you noticed a subtle change to Azriel, how he would fly away at dusk with his diary secured to his side, to only return an hour or so later seeming lighter and more determined. The subtle changes and the increases of his affection only made you more intrigued to find out exactly what he was writing in that book.
He had caught you far too many times tiptoeing into his bedroom, curtly telling you with a smirk that the diary was nowhere to be seen before pecking your forehead and sending you on your way.
Azriel had been much more attentive since solstice, he rarely took off the bracelet that you gave him, and you liked to think that the glow of your soul coaxed him into sleep, a thing you knew he struggled with often. Even Rhys had told you that Azriel had left his door open one night, only slightly ajar, but enough to Rhys to see him reaching to the ceiling and looking longingly at the pendent which contained your essence atop his pulse.
It was frustrating for your family to see it, to see your mutual pining but watch the other be clueless to it. Azriel had brought you flowers, brought back trinkets from his travels, he would brush up behind you and allow his shadows to feather across your lower back, he'd even cooked for you, something no one had ever seen before. Then there was you, giving a literal piece of your soul to the male, and even that wasn't enough for Azriel to see how in love with him you were.
"I'm calling it," Cassian panted as he rested on the stone pillar of the training ring beside Nesta, watching Azriel jog to catch up with your retreating form and his shadows drawling over your shoulder, "They're mates. They have to be."
"You're too late to that bet," Nesta quipped, wrapping her mate's hands up tighter in the leather straps, "We've all put money in, we bet on how long it would take for them to realise and for the bond to snap."
"And you didn't tell me?!"
Nesta scowled playfully, "You'd cheat," she prodded his armoured chest with her finger, "It has to be natural. They deserve that much."
Weeks ticked by and the group were getting restless, even Nesta, who was stubborn to let the pining play out, was getting annoyed.
Nesta knew exactly what Azriel wrote about in his diary each day, he wrote of you, she had caught a glimpse of a passage when he had stupidly left his diary in the library one night and he had sworn her to secrecy since then, but also sought her out to speak about you, about what he should do.
And Nesta no longer saw a problem in nudging him in the right direction.
"Is she still sniffing around your diary?" Nesta had asked, they were splayed across the seating area in the River House whilst you and Mor had disappeared to Rita's for the evening.
Your essence glowed on his wrist, he heard the whispers of your voice emit from it and sighed with a faint smile on his lips, "Everyday," he told her, looking upward at the ceiling and wondering what you were doing in that moment, "She's too good for me, Nes."
Humming in disagreement, Nesta sat up and craned her neck to look at her friend who was clearly thinking of the woman dancing the night away in the centre of Velaris, "Azriel," she deadpanned, "Y/N gave you a piece of her soul so that she would always be with you. Show her what you wrote. I assure you it can only go in the way you want it to."
Hint? No. Spelling it out for the dumb Illyrian? Yes.
Realisation hit him and he bolted upright, he gathered his diary in his fingers and raced upstairs, stumbling past a confused Cassian who stared after his brother before turning to his mate, mouth full of one of the cupcakes you and Elain had baked that morning with wide eyes and a accusatory tone muffling his words, "You cheated!" Crumbs flew from his mouth and Nesta flipped him off.
"You know the money is ours right?"
Cassian flopped down beside her with a grin, "I knew there was a reason why I loved you."
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Painful throbs growled at the balls of your feet as you walked up the path to the house with your heels stabbing at your thigh. Intoxication hadn't found you but you still had an amazing time dancing the hours away with Mor and Feyre, giggling and talking about men until you were all talked and danced out.
Golden firelight greeted you, and your dreary eyes scanned the room to find Azriel sat before the fire but turned toward the door where you stood in a floor length black dress, with two long slits that kissed your mid thigh and a plunging neckline held up by two thin ropes.
Azriel's hair was tousled, his hazel eyes were warm pools that beckoned you to dive in, his skin was golden and glowing in the light, and he sat there with a look of wonderment that you had never seen before.
"Az? Are you alright?" You closed the door behind you and made you way over to him, noticing his neck crane to keep his focus on your face as you approached him.
Azriel had pulled the table toward him and a familiar black leather bound book lay open on the table in front of him, "Come here," his voice was low but soft, pleading but not commanding, he patted the space beside him and you sank down into it, "I wanted to show you something. I know I've been hiding this from you, but I want you to see it now."
The book was soon in your hands, and closed, the thing you had been after for so long, "Are you sure?" The idea of his diary in your hands felt wrong, like a delicious invasion of privacy.
"More sure than I've ever been," he nodded downward, giving you the permission you needed to open it.
The pages were filled with words and charcoal sketched, and you took a moment to flick through the filling book before you focused on certain pages.
Bright eyes, unbound hair, and a toothy smile greeted you over a two page spread, your eyes followed the curves of black, and you gasped when you noticed what, or who, you were looking at. It was you. Azriel had drawn you on the pages of the diary Nesta had gifted him. In the time he had disappeared at dusk to be alone with his thoughts, he had chosen to let them wander to you.
You looked to him and noted how he had shuffled closer to you, the warmth of wing draping over your smaller form and his shadows dancing across your shoulders.
"I think in a way this diary is for you," he urged you to carry on, watching carefully as you flipped through to the beginning and scanning the words he had littered on the pages.
To anyone else, they were just a bunch of randomly littered words across the page, a waterfall of sayings and phrases that had come from your lips. Words and phrases that you said often enough for Azriel to take the time to write them down.
On the next page was two lists, one of the things you loved and another of the things you hated with small scribbled beside certain ones depicting when exactly Azriel had noticed.
Flicking through, it dawned on you that the entire diary was full of you, your jokes and mannerisms, the things that made you laugh, passages of your favourite poetry, drawings of you.
"Az, I-"
"Keep going."
So you did, you kept flipping the pages, allowing your fingers to graze against his written word as you read through his thoughts until you reached one page in particular.
Y/N,
I may never have the courage to tell you how I feel, and maybe writing it down will give me the courage to let you finally see what I have been hiding.
I tried to remember the day when everything in my life began to make sense. I went so long feeling lost and alone, of feeling destined to a life of solitude, and then you happened. You brought a joy to my life, to all of our lives, that we didn't know we were missing. I don't think you realise just how amazing you are.
I am in love with you, Y/N.
When you're around I know everything is going to be alright, and when I'm away, all I think about is you. I look at that damn bracelet all of the time, hoping that it was just some thoughtful gift, but a sign of something more. You are fluent in me, you speak my language in ways that even I cannot, and I can't walk this earth without you by my side. I refuse.
I may not tell you everyday that you mean the world to me but you do. The day you entered my life, even when you were petrified, you changed my life into something so beautiful and meaningful, you make me feel seen. I may not be the first man in your life but I intend to be the last, I intend to be the only one who can make you feel loved to your core.
There is nothing I wouldn't do for you. I will love you in your weakest moments and brightest of days, I will love you when you don't love yourself, I will love you even when you don't want me to, I will love you until the earth swallows me and even then I will follow you to the next life. There is nothing on this earth that can take me from you, not even death can force us apart.
Between universes, oceans and moons, I am so lucky that I got to step onto the same land and dream under the same stars as you; and I'd choose you in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of any reality, I would find you and I would choose you.
I love you, Y/N. I'll write it and say it as many times as you need me to, whether that be verbal or not, in whatever way you need me to say it, I will.
You have me, until the last star in the galaxy perishes, you have me.
You didn't realise that you were crying until you saw your tears splatter onto the page. In an instant, Azriel was cupping your face in the hands that only you found comfort in, brushing his thumbs against your cheeks as he felt your longing and love flow through him.
Felt your longing and love flow through him.
Azriel tensed, his eyes went wild and wide as he searched your soul for a sign for anything to confirm what he had just felt pang in his chest. The pressure was building and his actions confused you, he was panting, his chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm.
You reached for him, resting your fingers over his heart and feeling the world flip on its axis at the singular contact, energy exploded around your forms, white oceanic waves rippling with intertwining shadow, shrouded in a golden shimmer.
The sight was beautiful, so beautiful that it stole your attention and you watched as your essences danced with one another, and his shadows rallied to join in the celebration. Azriel's breath was warm against your cheek and you tore your gaze away from the display above your heads to meet his tearful eyes.
"We're mates," his voice was soft, so gentle, and he ran his fingers down the side of your face, sighing with a smile when you nodded.
"Nesta is going to be thrilled that she won the bet."
Azriel threw his head back and laughed, tears of pure happiness spilling from the corners of his eyes as he fell back to your level, "Bet?"
"They all betted on how long it would take us to realise that we love each other. They thought I didn't know."
"Beautiful smart creature," Azriel purred to you and you felt a blush creep to your cheeks, a blush that was soothed by his shadows curling over it, he slowly closed the gap between you, his lips hovering just before your own. "How rude of us to keep them waiting."
Azriel noticed your line of sight flicker between his eyes and downward at his lips, "Extremely," you breathed and Azriel wasted no time in pulling your face toward him and connecting your lips in something that could only be described as universe shifting, like the entire galaxy was holding a collective breath and watching you fall into one another.
There was a hunger behind it as his tongue danced with your own, you felt those golden threads snap into place, you heard the string connecting your souls hum in appreciation and yearning for what was no doubt going to occur behind closed doors.
Just as Azriel was about to scoop you into his arms and take you somewhere more private, a shuffle of feet and a groan sounded by the stairs.
Pulling apart, you saw Cassian stood there with giddy eyes, "GUYS! NESTA WON!"
The house and its inhabitants collectively snarled, "FUCK!" Rhys cursed from somewhere upstairs followed by Nesta's victorious chuckle whilst Cassian wiggled his eyebrows at you both, you buried your head into Azriel's chest to contain your red cheeks.
Azriel shrouded you with his wings, forcing you to look up at him, "Let's get out of here? I'd like a night alone with my mate."
"Say it again."
"Mate," he kissed you, "My perfect, incredible mate," he mumbled onto your lips with a smirk, cradling you to his chest and growling at Cassian for whatever crude remark he had made before soaring into the sky with you pressed to his chest with plans to make you his over and over again.
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Authors Note
Got a little carried away but this has given me life x
I'm drafting the next parts to some of my series tonight for tomorrow, what do we want prioritised? New Pages? A Fate Inked In Starlight? Can't Keep My Hands To Myself? When I Kissed The Teacher?
Let me know x
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Text
LIKE A GOOD GIRL
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Pairing - Cillian Murphy x fem!reader
Summary - You're Cillian's assistant and he doesn't take it well when you ask him for some time off to go away with your boyfriend.
Warnings - Dark, stalker themes, obsessive, hand job, p in v, threatening, manipulation, naive.
Word count - 2.8k+
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It started off with an unwitting smile on his lips, a new encounter that was able to make him feel more jovial when the intention was to purely oversee your concentrated work performance. A simple yet strict questionnaire which should have taken no more than 30 minutes turned into almost 2 hours of discussions with both of your joys and ambitions in life. Throughout the whole interaction, his blue eyes carefully lingering over your body, admiring the mix of proper and teasing that was your pencil skirt and blouse tucked in your tight fitted blazer. 
Mentally, Cillian hired you on the spot, but he had to make it seem more professional. So he waited until the next day to bear the good news. Shamelessly, he was awake all night replaying your encounter and widely smiled with excitement about how he was to have you as his assistant. 
Denial, complete denial Cillian was in about his obsession with you. You were just his assistant, nothing more but certainly nothing less. Your performance was exceptional, his schedule never overwhelmed him anymore and you created pathways for him to experience the greatest opportunities for his career and overall happiness. 
He dreamt of your curves, soft hair, luscious lips and mesmerizing eyes at night. Moaned out your name in his sleep as he humped the bed in vision of you being beneath him. Everytime he would wake to be hot and bothered, but he always blamed his hormones and lack of intimacy with his busy lifestyle. 
You were kind, innocent, thoughtful, selfless and fucking naive. Images of you bent over the desk, on top of him in the backseat or trapped under him always played in his mind. Sometimes he would find himself lost in your lips, immensely staring at their movements and the mental begging to have them wrapped around his length. 
When you’d ask if he was alright he’d blink back to reality and assure you he was. It always went over your head, you’d always tell him to lay down and rest up. But that was the last thought on his mind, as there were much more sinister things he wished to do, to you specifically.  
It was a consuming job, you knew it before you signed up for it. You’ve had your experiences in this league but never knew the lengths or how tiring and restrictive it could be at times. Cillian had a busy job, he suggested it was best if you always accompanied him (even though a lot of the time you could work from home). So you were always booking the next flight out. But Cillian was a kind boss, he’d always promise a night together each week to help the both of you to unwind. Always in some secluded restaurant or sometimes he’d even cook for you at home. 
Your relationship developed like quicksilver, sometimes you’d be on the phone call until late at night because secretly he just wanted to hear your voice. Working for him showed you how lonely an actor’s life could really be. Never getting a break to catch up with family or friends. You were thinking of organizing some time alone for him to relax, he deserved it. 
Innocent, it was always innocent encounters in his eyes. The line was never crossed by him. He kept his urges locked up, not because of the fear that it would be a public relations nightmare but because he feared he would eat you whole if he let himself have a taste of you. 
Sometimes Cillian would ask you to do the most bizarre tasks just to remind himself how dedicated you were to him. It was nice to remember how much control he really had over you. His heart would swoon whenever you’d surprise him on set with the food he was craving the night before, simultaneously to his cock twitching in his pants. Every time he’d have to rush off to the bathroom to jerk off his primitive urges to devour you right there in front of everyone.
It was almost midnight, and here you were, helping Cillian turn the house upside down for his passport. He had misplaced it and felt overwhelmed with not being able to find it before your flight tomorrow.  
The pair of you had checked all rooms of the house, you suggested backtracking his steps but it wasn’t much help. When you were in the kitchen, he slipped his passport out of his jacket pocket, a small smile on his lips. 
“Found it!” Cillian called out, smiling like a deviant teenager. 
Shortly after, your footsteps were heard as you approached his study. “Where was it?” You asked as your head poked around the corner, a relieved expression settling in. 
“Underneath my script” he lied perfectly. 
“Oh” you murmured, eyebrows scrunching slightly. You could have sworn you checked there. 
Cillian raised his watch to his eyesight and lightly gasped. “Gosh, it’s so late darling. I didn’t even realize the time” he apologized. You waved your hand to him in a dismissive manner. 
“Oh, don’t stress about it. It’s all a part of the job” you reassured as you softly rubbed your arms, your tired eyes blinking heavily. 
Cillian smiled at you and took a step closer to you. “Did you want to stay the night? I feel so guilty having you drive out here. You can keep your car here and we’ll swing by yours for your luggage” Cillian offered, completely painted with innocence and kindness.
“Oh, no it’s alri-”
“I insist” he flashed a wide smile, his tone trickling of demand rather than hospitality.  
“Okay, sure” you nodded your head in complete agreement. Completely oblivious to the true colors of his offering. 
It wasn’t the first time you’ve stayed over. A couple of times you had too much wine and passed out in his guest bedroom, completely unaware of his lingering dark eyes that stood by the door for hours. He wanted to touch you, he truly did, but was too afraid he’d never be able to stop. So he resulted in pumping his shaft in his trousers, biting his tongue harshly to hold back his moans. 
“I was actually wondering if I could ask you a question” you smiled softly. 
Cillian hummed and gestured for you to continue on and you did. Immediately, Cillian’s stomach was hollowed out. All over a simple, innocent question on your behalf. But, he felt like you had betrayed him, committed treason over your relationship. His body went stiff, blood boiled as teeth almost cracked from how harshly he clenched his jaw. 
Time felt like it went still, as all of these negative emotions fireballed in his mind. 
“So?” You asked, your eyebrow cocked up and sweet smile locked on. 
“Sorry, what was that again sweetheart?” Cillian asked blankly, trying to hide his true thoughts, wanting to pretend that he didn’t know what you just asked in desperate hopes you could read him. Mentally demanding that you correct your mistake but you were still just as naive from the moment he met you. 
“Am I able to have some time off? It’ll be three days max. Samuel really wants to take me away on a surprise getaway, he’s been going on about it for months”
How long have you even had a boyfriend? Cillian never asked, the idea of it was too aggravating for his ego. But you never even mentioned him to Cillian. He thought you guys were closer than that, no he knew you were, how could you hide this from him? 
“Who’s Samuel?” Cillian frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest. 
“Oh! My boyfriend! He admires your work and would love to meet you one day, I think I may have hyped you up too much… But he’s a playwright” you explained yourself in a cheerful manner, almost giggling. 
There was a silence which quickly turned awkward when you noticed his eyes twitch. You cleared your throat and looked away from him slightly as you rubbed your arm anxiously. Cillian took a large step towards you and threw his passport carelessly onto his desk. 
“I don’t think I can approve of your leave” Cillian answered, emotionlessly. 
Perplexity filled your thoughts as the tension quickly brewed in the study. You had to clear your throat once more and awkwardly scratch the back of your neck. 
“Oh, really? Um, can I ask why?” You asked, your voice cracking slightly as he took another step towards you. 
“It just doesn’t sit right with me” he spoke in a low tone. 
“Pardon?” Your eyebrows scrunched at him. 
“I don’t like the idea of not knowing how safe you are, you’re better in my care” he answered simply, shrugging his shoulders lightly. 
You snorted at him and shook your head. It all made sense now, he was just feeling a little too overprotective over you. It made sense, the pair of you had spent so much time together these past few months, you cared for him too. Cillian stood directly ahead of you, looking down to you with a tilted head.
“Cillian, I appreciate the thoughtfulness but I’m a grown adult” you reassured, your hand touched his bicep and he grunted. 
Cillian considered his next argument, nodding to himself when he decided he would say it. “Well maybe I also don’t like the thought of him fucking you” he continued on. 
You hand shot back from his arm and you took a step back, your expression flashed with horror as you stuttered. 
“Sorry?” You whimpered, stepping back every time he took a step closer to you. 
“Why would I allow you to go away to get fucked? Whilst I’m confined here, all alone with nothing but my hand” Cillian frowned, tilting his head further to the left as he quickly moved towards you and blocked the doorway. 
Your footsteps swung around as you found yourself stepping backwards to the desk. 
“Where is this coming from?” you gasped, your hands planted on the wooden edge. 
“Do you know what you do to me?” Cillian asked blankly, his eyes boring into your skull. 
There was no answer from you, so he closed the distance, he gripped harshly onto your wrist and brought your hand to his crotch. A heavy cry escaped your mouth at the stiffness in his jeans. Cillian’s eyes rolled back as he moaned out, his hips flexing forward. 
“Can you feel that?” Cillian moaned, slowly rubbing your hand over the tent in his pants. 
“Cillian” you whined, paralyzed in fear. 
“That’s what you fucking do to me” he grunted, pressing your hand firmly over his erection. 
“M’sorry” you whined pathetically, eyes swollen red with tears as your body trembled. 
Cillian rubbed your heated cheek with his free hand and pouted to you. He tsked at you as he patted your cheek in unison to his sounds, his dark stare frightening. 
“Don’t be sorry… But you have to fix it, okay?” He ordered softly, sweetly. 
“What do you-” you blubbered, knowing what he did imply. 
“Touch my cock baby” he smiled innocently. 
“N-no” you shook your head.
His hand swiftly wrapped around your neck as he pressed you against the desk, you cried out in pain and fear and Cillian grinned at you. The hold around your throat warned you to obey him. 
“You’ll do as I fucking tell you” Cillian growled, his grip tightened as his teeth flared at you. You nodded your head quickly and he released your throat. 
His hands gripped onto both sides of your face, his breath fanned over your mouth as his voice dropped to a whisper. 
“Does he fuck you good?”
“Cill-”
He repeated his words slowly, each one dripping with jealousy and anger. You sniveled under him as he breathed slowly, waiting for your answer as he gently humped his hips against yours. 
“Uh! I don't know” you stammered out. The overwhelming clouds stormed over your thoughts.
“Naughty girl… I thought I made it clear you were mine” he tsked at you. 
His hands fell to your waist, his thumbs rolled circles as he lifted you onto the desk. Spreading your trembling thighs, your skirt raised and his slender digits slid down to your core. 
“Cillian please!” You cried out. But you were too fearful of the outcome of trying to push him off of you. 
“I am your boss, you’ll address me as sir” he demanded, his forehead pressed against yours. 
“S-sir please stop. I’m sorry” you begged as his fingers toyed over your covered pussy. 
“Why did you never tell me huh? Little fucking whore” he spat at you. 
One hand pulled your panties to the side as the other rolled over your wet folds. Biting back your moan, your tears flooded down your flustered cheeks and Cillian grinned at you darkly. 
“Never thought of me at night? Never thought of us?” Cillian taunted, a digit pushing itself into your tight canal.
Shamefully you did, but he was your boss and he was so much older than you. It felt so wrong every time your fingers found its way into your panties when you were all alone in bed. 
“Sir please” you moaned out, your eyes rolled back slightly as you sniffled to him. 
“I think you liked the idea of being mine, but were just too subconscious, am I right?” Cillian cocked an eyebrow to you as he slipped another finger inside of you. 
Your head nodded rapidly as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, your arms wrapped around his back whilst you cried against him. Cillian hummed, gradually picking up the speed inside of you as your moans were muffled and the shaking hold tried to still itself. 
“You’re going to touch my cock, alright? Then I’m gonna fuck you. After that, if you’re a good girl, I’ll eat you out. Maybe before our flight you can suck my cock, eh?” Cillian grinned as he slipped his fingers out of you. 
There was no reply from you as he quickly pushed his pants and underneath to his knees. You were too afraid to look down, but you could feel him stroking his size against your inner thigh. Cillian kissed your ear then nuzzled his nose against your hair. 
Shakingly, one of your hands let go of his back and reached for his length. You squeaked when you felt his firm shaft that dripped of precum. If you didn’t want to look before, you certainly didn’t know, he felt massive, your hand could hardly wrap around the girth. 
“You’re okay sweetheart, just breathe” Cillian coached you as you slowly ran your hand up and down his length. 
Cillian moaned out as you took his advice and focused on your breathing. Blinking back your tears, your thumb rolled circles around his moist tip. As he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his hips jerked forward, his arms holding your body possessively. 
Roughly, he moved you back up further on the table and took his cock back into his hand. Cillian guided your legs around his waist as he ripped your panties in half. You cried out, your arms wrapped around his neck in fear as he lined his cock to your gushing entrance. 
“Need to fuck you” he whined out. 
There was no moment of preparation, he forcefully pressed himself inside of you. Completely bruised himself between your clenching walls after a few thrusts. You cried out, your fingernails unintentionally dug into the skin around the back of his neck. 
“Fuck!” Cillian hissed out. 
Despite how badly he wanted to rest inside of you, his animalistic urges took over his thoughts. At high speed, his thrusts painfully stretched your cunt as you moaned out, panting for a steady breath. Cillian kissed your neck, then bit your neck. His teeth dug into your skin as he desperately wanted to mark you as his. 
“Shit baby, I want to stay buried inside of you forever” Cillian whimpered as his thrusts quickly turned runny. 
Your teeth flared as you tried to blink back your tears. The pressure against your core was growing rapidly as he hit your bundle of nerves repetitively without even trying. Cillian cried out everytime your walls squeezed his cock. 
“Fuck it, gonna fuck you all night. Can’t believe I tried to deny this, deny us. You’re mine, all fucking mine. Ever speak of that fucker’s name again, let alone talk to him, then I’ll ruin you darling. You’ll take care of me during the day and at night, won’t you baby?” Cillian asked, pulling your head back to look at him. 
There was no other choice in the matter, you nodded your head to him as you felt your climax climb to the edge, you’d do as your boss told you to do, like the good little girl the both of you knew you were. 
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champagnefountains · 7 months
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I have a request if they're still open.
Alastor decides to hire Reader as a radio intern. He first did it for entertainment, sending them out to do ridiculously hard and long tasks for his own amusement, like fetching him coffee from the other side of Hell in a super short period of time or proof reading scripts that he purposely made completely illegible to anyone but himself, but had slowly begun to fall for them the longer they stuck around.
ALASTOR - H.H.
Prompt: Being Alastor's radio intern.
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Thank you for your request anon! I hope you'll enjoy this one!
Word count: 1.5k+ words. Genre/other tags: Fluff. Humour. Warnings: None.
You were unfortunate to have your soul be owned by the renowned Radio-Demon. Tough luck. You were merely a desperate soul who needed a major favour to be done by yours truly, and are now forever tied and forced to do his bidding. You initially expected a life-time of torture and pain, but was pleasantly surprised when he had requested for you to be his personal radio-intern-slash-assistant.
"Dear Charlie and I have been so, so busy and I just need an extra hand is all...and that's where you come in!" He chimed, pinching your cheek. Alastor explained that he needed someone to assist in managing his radio-broadcasts and schedules while he was out playing hotelier. And just as you thought that you were off the hook, it turns out that this had been his own, little way of torturing you.
Alastor made you do the most ridiculous and tedious tasks ever – like fetching a cup of coffee from a cafe situating on the other side of Hell, or obtain some weird, obscure item from sketchy shops in the most dangerous and chaotic districts in all the Nine Circles, only for it to have little to no significance to him at all. Of course, you did some actual radio-intern-related tasks, but it didn't make things any easier for you. More so than often, Alastor would give you a stack-pile of his broadcast scripts to proof-read. The only problem was that all of it was mostly illegible, almost appearing like chicken scratch. It was then that you knew for certain he was doing this as some sort of sick entertainment for himself, knowing that he had the neatest penmanship amongst the entire team. Oh, and don't even get started with the ridiculous deadlines!
All in all, Alastor was constantly giving you a hard time. However, you were determined to not let him continue to walk all over you. After some time, you were slowly getting used to his strange requests and behaviours, and managed to find ways to work around them. Oh, he wanted his oddly specific order of coffee? You already had it ordered beforehand, and even had the beans supplied to have it readily brewed in the Hotel. He asked for some random-ass antique item? You had already established some connections during your previous commutes, and will have it delivered on the doorstep the next day. You needed to proof-read his scripts? You've learnt to decipher his hieroglyphics and were able to get them done hours before its deadline, whilst also adding in a few of your own critiques and comments.
Already a couple months in the job and you've already got it in the bag. And if he was being honest, Alastor was surprised with your progress. Dare say that he was even impressed! It was like no matter what he had thrown your way, you were able to catch it with ease. Yes, he had to admit: he did initially hire you for his own entertainment – you were his little play-thing when boredom struck – but you had proved yourself as an important asset and massive help towards him and the Hotel. You even went out of your way to help with tasks in the Hotel, such as tending the front desk with Cherri, assisting in the kitchen with Nifty, and even managing some group activities alongside Charlie and Vaggie.
You were incredibly hard-working, selfless and compassionate. Alastor and everyone in the Hotel could see it. It initially ticked Alastor off, seeing that his plans were foiled and were tailored to your favour, but the more you stuck around and spent time with himself and everyone else, he genuinely began enjoying your company. And vice versa. When he wasn't being the overbearing and unreasonable boss that he can be, you actually found yourself having fun in Alastor's presence, now often chuckling at his jokes and schemes.
But that wasn't the only thing that changed.
Alastor came to a stark realisation that he had developed feelings for you. It was a foreign feeling to him, which initially confused him at first but it filled him with such warmth that his cold-heart craved for. He found himself seeking your presence constantly (more than usual, that is), always making an effort to talk to you (again, more than usual), and at times, forcing you to stay in his office while he worked on his scripts, and even have you sit through his broadcasts. Even if it wasn't obvious, Alastor's feelings were overwhelming him with each passing day – he didn't know how to go about it. 
So Alastor resorted to what he does with most things – in straight-forward and curt fashion, of course. 
"S-Sir, you...y-you want me to do what?" You stuttered, a rapid and violent blush suddenly taking over your face. "I said, I want you to go out with me!" Alastor repeated nonchalantly, all the while jokingly tapping a finger on his microphone, "hello, hello? Is this thing on? Testing, testing!" You couldn't help but gawk at the deer-demon and his bluntness. He had summoned you to his office out-of-the-blue, requesting your presence urgently in the midst of an activity session you were co-hosting with Vaggie. With the way he went about it, you would've thought that there was some sort of emergency. Not...well, not this.
"...Go out with you? Like...on a walk, or something?" You slowly reiterated, trying to get a grasp on what he was trying to say. Alastor hums to himself, tapping his chin in thought. "Well, if that's what you prefer to do on our date, then I suppose that would be quite swell! We can fit that right in once we've had our dinner," He nods after a brief moment’s contemplation. It nearly sent your eyes popping out of its sockets. "Woah, woah! A-A date?! You mean, a date?! With–with me?!" You exclaimed, pointing to yourself in disbelief. The Overlord rose a brow.
"Why, of course! You're the only one in the room that I'm currently talking to, dear! Oh, hoh, you're quite silly, aren't you?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "B-But...don't you think this is like–I don't know, a bit unprofessional, sir?" You timidly ask, picking at your fingers, "you are my boss, after all..."
Alastor tilted his head to the side, humming, "Hm, perhaps. But I believe we’ve already crossed that boundary long ago, don’t you think? We’ve treated each other like good, ol’ comrades rather than just co-workers these past few months, have we not?” You blink. “I…I guess we have,” you blankly affirm.  
“Right? So, with that being said, I can't help but want something more. I do wish to properly court you. After all, it's not everyday a mortal soul such as yourself could pique my interest. That means to say that you’re quite exceptional, dear!” You couldn’t help but nervously chuckle at the flattery, shaking your head, “w-well, I don’t know about that–” 
“Oh, none of that nonsense!” He suddenly swoops in, waving a hand and shaking his head, “I don’t think I’ve met anyone who has managed to keep up at my level the way you have. It’s very impressive and admirable – take my word for it!” 
Alastor then suddenly evades your personal space, leaning down to eye-to-eye level with you. It startles you momentarily but you decidedly maintain eye-contact with him, too nervous to look away. It causes his grin to widen. "And I can bravely assume that you wouldn't mind taking up my offer...as you haven't yet made any effort or comment to decline it, hm?" He smartly comments, looking at you expectedly. 
Well..damn, he got you there, didn’t he? Because in truth, you did enjoy the playful dynamic you've established with him. You found satisfaction in the little praises and smiles Alastor would send your way whenever you accomplished something and slowly, you found yourself valuing his opinion of you. You then tried to up yourself with each passing day, and it was just as shocking for you when you came to terms with your own feelings. 
And that’s how you found yourself being courted by the Radio-Demon himself. 
After that, nothing much had changed in your dynamic with Alastor – you still continued being his radio-assistant. Well, other than the fact that he had become more openly sweet towards you. This meant calling you a variety of pet-names and giving you a little less work for you when he knows you’ve worked yourself hard enough. Small pecks and kisses will be rewarded when you would hand him his cup of coffee every morning, and he would invite you to join and sit on his lap when he would do his frequent broadcasts. He would also teasingly ask you to call him ‘sir’, knowing that it’ll fluster you so much – he just loved and enjoyed seeing you turn red all over. He even stopped with his hieroglyphics, reverting back to his usual handwriting when writing his scripts – the joke’s gone a bit stale, he says. And at the end of a long, tiring day, Alastor would have you in his arms as you happily basked in each other’s company.
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megumishotgf · 7 months
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pov: megumi has a crush on you
summary: more megumi headcanons i fear… ya’ll like my texts way more so this is definitely written for me.
warnings: reference to catcalling? other than that sfw + gender non-specified!!
masterlist
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reserved! megumi who takes his time getting to know you. he studies all your qualities and aspects personality as if one day he’ll be quizzed on your features. megumi admires your ambition and drive but most of all your tenderness and selflessness. he’s drawn to people with good and expressive hearts. people who like to help others and perform nice gestures just because they can.
attentive! megumi who focuses diligently when you’re speaking, concentrating on every single trivial detail, even those that slip absent-mindedly past your lips without much thought. he listens to you ramble on and on about your interests yet it never bores him (and he gets bored of people alright). speaks so softly with you in a tone that surprises everyone around you (mainly nobara and yuji who have never seen him so interested in another human before… he’s always this soft to animals, though).
nerdy! megumi who prefers reading non-fiction but will pick up your favourite fantasy novels just because he wants to feel close to you. seeing your eyes light up when he mentions the titles to you makes his heart swell. highlights his favourite quotes and annotates in between pages. he’ll share them with you, gaze fixated on you as your eyes scan over all of this thoughtful comments. you feel such genuine happiness knowing he has gone so far to do this for you.
sappy! megumi who picks up one of your romance suggestions next, finding himself relating to the hopelessly enamoured protagonist. again, he annotates his copies and scribbles exclamation marks when he comes across passages that resonate with his growing feelings for you. doesn’t show you these ones, of course. at least not yet.
shy! gumi who admires your kindness from afar. all the little things you go out of your way to do just to help someone else. when you assist yuuji in the kitchen with his high-protein meals or paint nobara’s nails with great precision. when you’re the first to offer your seat up for an elderly woman on the metro or when you bounce out of your seat to help your teachers carrying piles of school documents.
observant! megumi who notices all of your little habits. the kind of things that make you feel so loved and cared for when he mentions them back to you. those things that no one else really noticed even if you badly wanted it to be seen.
love-sick! megumi would configures multiple playlists about you. one playlist containing all your favourite tracks and another with all those that you recommended to him directly. the type to listen to ‘i wanna be yours’ and fall asleep to thoughts of being with you. so many random romantic playlists often come up on his spotify profile. one time he made you a physical mixtape. yes, it was mostly just love songs… you swore it was just a coincidence. mostly.
insecure! megumi who constantly thinks he could never be good enough for you. dismisses your concern when you notice him distancing himself (because somehow you can distinguish between this and his usual quietness) but can never fully push you away. feels his heartbeat accelerate when you offer him physical comfort (with less reluctance than with anyone else). hugs from you are so comforting.
touch-starved! megumi who craves your physical affection all the time and it gets very noticeable. his arms instinctively circle around your waist whenever you greet him, rushing over for a hug. at first it was always you initiating the affection, but it’s starting to feel so natural reciprocating it. your hand will subtly slip into his when you are walking around central tokyo together or you’ll cling onto his side for comfort and warmth. he worries that you’ll be able to hear his obnoxiously loud heartbeat when you do so, but nothing could make him pull away.
annoyed! megumi who glares at his friends when they tease him about your physical affection (or when they hear your nicknames for him). but at least they have the decency to wait until you’ve left, he thinks. i give them one more week, yuuji says to nobara as megumi walks away in the same direction you just went.
if looks could kill… nobody would want to experience angry! megumi. even yuuji and nobara started to feel unsettled seeing him like that after some old loser started to catcall you. you had barely registered what was called out to you before he fearfully disappeared around the corner.
kind! megumi who opens his arms for you when he sees you’re upset. sometimes struggles with verbal comfort, but he remembers how nice it is to be hugged by you, so surely this should help. it does help - and he feels his heart swell when you thank him for being there for you.
even more nervous! megumi who finally musters the courage to confess his feelings for you. rehearses the speech in his head (and surprisingly to yuuji) tens of times only to be left astounded after you make the confession first. finally kissing you felt like the sun rising after months of darkness.
megumi who has infinite amounts of layers!! getting to know him is truly a magical experience. ultimate green flag he is perfect end of discussion!!
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haven’t published anything in so long… hey ya’ll. how is everyone doing. pls send requests i am out of ideas!!
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femboybyers · 3 months
Text
Bc people are coming out of the woodwork to discredit the idea that he's gender nonconforming and is instead a """strong""" character (like these are somehow opposed?) again, allow me to say:
Will Byers is not a rugged masculine stoic badass.
Will Byers is not a fighter (in the sense that El, Nancy, and Hopper are), he consistently cowers and hides when violence breaks out.
Will Byers doesn't attack dart, a creature he KNOWS is related to the Upside Down and is potentially dangerous, and instead treats it with compassion.
Will Byers is verbally described as "sensitive" and "not like most".
Will Byers has not meaningfully assisted in activities requiring physical exertion (digging the grave in s4, flipping the car in s3).
Will Byers cries more than any other male character in the show, and might be the character to cry the most.
Will Byers often fulfills a role in the narrative which is typically filled by female characters.
Will Byers is the only character to be clocked as queer by other people in the show and called slurs which almost always have to do with a failure to perform masculinity (not to mention being a queer man is INHERENTLY a failure to """correctly""" perform masculinity).
Will Byers is gentle and kind and selfless. He's also scared ALL the time.
He is not a "strong" character in the traditional sense. He IS, however, an incredibly RESILIENT character.
He has faced more danger and been put through more trauma than almost anyone else in the cast (except El) and he is STILL just as gentle and kind and selfless.
His sensitivity IS his strength.
And that's genuinely subservise and impactful to see in a young male character. I would have KILLED for a character like Will when I was his age, for some kind of validation that this was not only an OK way to be a guy, but a heroic and valuable one!
In conclusion, Will Byers is a sissy, a fairy, a pansy, a girly boy, and he's a goddamn hero for it.
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kissme-suguru · 8 months
Text
Under The Influence
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˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖ Nanami Kento ♡︎ CEO AU! x Fem Reader
Warnings: Explicit content MDNI, Soft Dom Nanami, smut, unprotected drunk sex, creampie, missionary, cunnilingus, praise
A/N: This originally was gonna be a multi character thing then i got too into CEO Nanami. Any feedback is appreciated!
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Tonight was the annual corporate dinner for Nanami's company where everyone got together to go over the accomplishments for the year and give out recognition. Every year Nanami made sure his employees were taken care of, renting out the upper floor of an extravagant restaurant for the the event and treating everyone to a nice dinner. Being the stoic man he is he sat back and watched as everyone enjoyed themselves but every once in awhile his eyes would land on you. His pretty little assistant who he longed for so desperately.
From the moment you walked into his office for the interview he knew he was in trouble, his eyes lingered on your figure which was shown off in the pencil skirt and blouse you wore. But keeping up his reputation as a professional he put those thoughts aside and hired you cause he thought you'd be a good asset to the company. (certainly no other reason)
Nanami watched you mingled with some of his other employees, taking sips from his scotch as the jealousy began to rise in him. He was already on his third drink and you being the sole reason why he was indulging more than usual. Despite trying to keep up his facade he hated when others captured your attention; to him it wasn't fair. He wanted you and not only that he wanted to make sure everyone knew you were his and his alone.
When the event came to an end you took notice of how tipsy Nanami was and of course as the doting assistant you helped him into the back of his car and rode back to his penthouse with him to make sure he got home safe. In the car his muscular body leaned against you in his drunken state, which you allowed since he seemed to take comfort in your presence.
After entering his penthouse you carefully guided him to his bedroom and guided him to lay on his back. He chuckled quietly sprawling out like a starfish as he watched you move to his bathroom and gather a cold rag. "Such a sweet thing, taking care of your boss."
A soft giggle fell from your lips while you approached, placing the rag on the forehead. "It's my job to take care of you, sir. Besides I've never really seen you drink before so I wanna make sure you're alright."
His hand reached out to grab your wrist and pull you closer to him, causing a soft gasp to leave your lips and look at him in confusion. The drinks from restaurant seemed to give him the liquid courage he needed to finally express himself to you. "That's what I like about you Y/N-" His gaze traveled down to your lips briefly before meeting your eyes. "You're so selfless, so kind, so...perfect."
Nanami's words brought heat to your cheeks and made your knees weak. Of course you had been attracted to your boss but you didn't think he would possibly return your feelings.
"Kento-"
"I want you darling. I need you, I have since I first laid eyes on that pretty face." He let go of your wrist and moved his hand up to stroke your cheek, gently pulling your bottom lip down with his thumb. "Tell me you feel the same?"
Looking deeply in Nanami's eyes you nodded slowly. "I want you too, Kento." His eyes widened with a mix of desperation and longing after hearing your answer. He leaned closer, his warm breath fanning against your skin as he whispered, "I want to taste you, Y/N. I want to feel you wrapped around me. Please...let me have you." His hands tightened their grip on your waist, desire evident in his touch.
Nanami wasted no time pressing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss after you nodded in approval, his hand roaming over your body with a desperate hunger. He slowly slid off your dress savoring the sight of your exposed skin that he had long dreamed about. The maroon dress pooled at your feet leaving your lace clad body on display.
A nervous smile appeared on your lips as you turned your head slightly, nervous to meet his hungry gaze. Nanami noticed your flushed cheeks and couldn't help but find it incredibly endearing. He gently cupped your face, turning it towards him so he could gaze into your eyes. "You're so beautiful, darling."
He leaned in to press a tender kiss against your lips, his touch gentle and soft. "Don't be shy, my sweet. I want to see every expression on your face as i pleasure you." His words were laced with a hint of teasing, his desire to see you unravel in his voice.
Kento's eyes darkened with desire as he watched you settle onto the plush mattress. He slowly crawled over you, slipping off his shirt hovering above you. His hands trailed along your sides, his touch feather-light as he explored every curve and dip of your body.
"I can't resist you." He leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dancing with yours in a passionate dance.
His hands moved lower, caressing your thighs and inching closer to the source of your desire. He could feel the heat radiating from your core, and it only fueled his own need. With a teasing smirk, he whispered against your lips, "Tell me, pretty girl . How badly do you want me to taste you?"
A shaky breath fell from your lips as she looked up at Nanami. “Please, I need to feel your lips on me."
He couldn't deny you any longer. With a low growl, he lowered himself between your legs, his hands gently parting them and pulling down your panties to expose your glistening folds.
He leaned in, his hot breath fanning against your sensitive skin, before he pressed his lips against your throbbing clit. His tongue flicked against the sensitive bud, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He savored your taste, his tongue delving deeper, exploring every inch of your wetness.
His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he devoured you with an insatiable hunger. He alternated between gentle licks and firm sucks, his mouth working tirelessly to bring you to the edge of pleasure. He wanted to hear your moans, to feel your body tremble beneath him as he pleasured you to the brink of ecstasy. He pleasured your body with utter ease, listening to every little sound and finding out what made you tick.
It didn't take long for your orgasm to approach, whining out his name as your back arched into the plush bed. "K-Kento."
Nanami's name falling from your lips in that desperate, needy tone sent a surge of satisfaction through him. He intensified his ministrations, his tongue flicking and swirling with purpose. He wanted to push you over the edge, to make you unravel completely.
He could feel the tension building within you, the telltale signs of your impending release. With a final, firm suck, he brought you to the peak of pleasure. Your body convulsed beneath him as waves of ecstasy washed over you, your moans filling the room.
As you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasm, Nanami crawled up your body, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss. You could taste yourself on your lips, and it only fueled his own desire. "You're so fucking beautiful when you come undone," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with a mix of adoration and lust. "But I'm not done with you yet, darling. I want to make you cum again and again."
Your arms wrapped around his neck as you looked up at him with need, subtly grinding your pussy against his clothed bulge.
Nanami groaned as he felt your wetness grinding against him, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. He couldn't resist the temptation any longer. With a primal growl, he quickly undid his belt and discarded his pants along with his boxers somewhere on the floor. He captured your lips in a passionate kiss, hands gripping your hips tightly.
He aligned himself with your entrance, teasingly brushing against your slick folds. "You're so fucking wet for me, baby." he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I can't wait to feel you wrapped around me."
With one swift motion, he plunged deep inside you, filling you completely. The sensation of your tightness around him was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but let out a low groan of pleasure. Resting his forehead against yours allowing you to adjust to his girth momentarily before you gave him the go ahead. He began to move, his thrusts deep and powerful, setting a rhythm that matched the urgency of his desire.
His hands roamed over your body, gripping and squeezing, his touch possessive and demanding. He wanted to leave his mark on you, to brand you as his. His hips met yours with each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.
"You're mine." he growled, his voice filled with possessiveness. "No one else can make you feel like this. Only me." His words were punctuated by his relentless pace, his need for you driving him to push you both to the edge of pleasure.
Nails raked up and down his back as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Moans rolling off your tongue next to his ear in desperation. Your body clung to him like it depended on it.
Nanami's body shuttered at the sensation of your nails digging into his back, the mix of pleasure and pain only fueling his desire. He relished in the sound of your moans, the need in your voice echoing in his ear.
He continued to thrust into you, his movements becoming more urgent and primal. The sound of your bodies colliding filled the room. He could feel the tension building within him, the need to release threatening to consume him.
With a possessive grip on your hips, he angled his thrusts, hitting that sweet spot deep within you. "Fuck," he groaned, his voice filled with raw need. "You feel so fucking good. I can't hold back anymore."
His thrusts became faster and harder, his body moving in perfect sync with yours. He could feel the coil of pleasure tightening within him, ready to unravel. With one final, powerful thrust, he spilled himself inside you, release washing over you both in waves of ecstasy.
He collapsed onto the bed, his breathing heavy and labored. He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. "You're mine, darling," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of possessiveness and tenderness. "And I'll always take care of you."
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chuunai · 8 months
Note
I had an idea for the 100 followers thingy- so like the babies thing but you’re a single mother (maybe teen mom?) and dazai (pm) falls in love with you and your baby :} ps- I LOVE YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF SUGAR 💗‼️‼️‼️
I’m trying I swear TvT
✧˚ · . you’re a virgin and I’m just a meth head - pm! dazai osamu
the new hire at the port mafia interests him. the baby, too.
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summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff with a sprinkle of angst, mentions of teen pregnancy, reader and PM! dazai are seventeen, SFW, mentions of a former abusive relationship, mentions of suicide (it’s fucking dazai), happy ending.
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Assistants were something he never cared for much.
They came and go, either requesting to work for a different department in the Port Mafia after witnessing his peculiarities or dying. He hadn’t ever formed any bonds with them. Hell, he hardly knew their names. Dazai preferred to give them childish nicknames such as ‘four-eyes’ for the ones with glasses or ‘baldy’ for the ones who had barely began balding.
No use in actually getting to know them.
All they were good for anyway was organizing his work and making a schedule of meetings and pointless missions he’d hardly follow. And what could they do? Nothing.
Once, he had attempted to get Ango to apply for the job during an outing at Bar Lupin, but that four-eyes declined. So did Oda. Geez, his friends lacked faith in him. Dazai wasn’t that bad of a boss. His subordinates didn’t die that often compared to the others.
Then again, his most recent assistant had died via overdosing. Straight from the Port Mafia’s warehouses, too. Dying of his own stupidity because karma struck him down. The high may have been sending him to the clouds, but he got too close to the sun just as Icarus did and burned—or in this case, vomited—to death. Fun.
A replacement would be needed, yes, but that would involve looking through so many applications and that was boring compared to strangling himself or pulling Chuuya’s hair when the redhead was speaking with Kouyou.
He’d pick irritating the slug over paperwork any day. At least one was fun.
So he just had Mori pick one out. As long as they wouldn’t be a nuisance and knew their place, he didn’t care who it was. Boy, girl, whatever. All ages welcomed. Dazai preferred younger though. The old farts were annoying and so utterly dumb! So when a subordinate gave him a file for his new assistant, he didn’t think anything of it. He always got those for record keeping.
Although this particular individual piqued his interest as his eyes gazed over the information attached.
The age was young—seventeen, same as him. A girl. According to the report, you were previously stationed as a secretary for some lower ranking member. And you’d just joined, too. Only a few blissful months ago. Just barely a baby in the crime world. All dewy-eyed and truly unknowing of the dark underbelly of Yokohama.
Most interesting, though, and the thing that struck his curiosity was the fact that a small sticky note was attached to the last page.
‘Single mother of eight month old girl’
There weren’t many parents in the Mafia, much less teenage ones. Nobody had time to have a baby with the lack of safety. But you did. Someone desperate enough to provide for their child to the point where they joined an illegal organization without even being an adult yet. That took will and selflessness. Something he lacked.
And without having even met you yet, Dazai found himself fascinated by you.
Murmuring your name to himself, he found himself a bit startled at how smooth it rolled off his tongue. He liked it, too. Your name was nice to say.
Tossing the file onto his desk carelessly, Dazai tapped his fingers on the desk, mind wandering once more. If you had a child then you’d probably work your best to support them. You’d be competent enough for him.
Apparently competent enough to the point where you felt like you could handle bringing the baby to the Mafia HQ.
“I don’t remember hiring two assistants.”
Dazai’s voice came out as slightly amused and startled. There you were, standing in-front of his desk while occasionally shushing your…daughter? It looked like a girl, anyway.
“Sorry- her sitter wasn’t available and I-“
His eyes stared at your reddening cheeks—embarrassment and shame, he could tell—as you spoke again.
“I don’t really have anyone to watch her. I’m so sorry, sir.”
Sir? You called him sir? That made him wave his hand a bit dismissively. The only people who called him ‘sir’ were the random grunts and gunmen that served under him. Or people who were scared shitless of him.
“Dazai. Not sir.”
Sitting up languidly, his uncovered eye focused on the baby. Curls of dark hair fell over her forehead while her tiny hands grabbed at your shirt and hair. Funny, he thought.
“And the baby can stay.”
She reminded him of some of the orphans Oda took care of. Especially Sakura. Maybe they had the same name, too. Unlikely, though. She didn’t look like a Sakura, really.
Picking up a pen, he pointed it at you, a small smile on her face.
“Speaking of, may I know her mother’s name?”
He knew it already. But it felt more right if he convinced himself you told him.
“Oh! Yes, uhm, I’m (L/N) (Y/N). And her name,” Tapping your baby’s forehead, she released a small coo, giggling slightly. “is (L/N) Yukirou.”
“Winter baby, huh. I’ll guess, December 16th?”
This was so much fun for him so far. Maybe Yukirou really could be his second assistant. As a joke, of course.
Nodding, you began to ramble on about the baby as he relaxed back in his chair, spinning around and making funny faces at Yukirou. The small child giggled and outreached her fingers to him, probably infatuated by his bandages and messy hair. He didn’t touch her, though. No need to let such a good small thing interact with a person like him.
And so minutes went by. Technically, he should’ve been doling out tasks and trying to kill himself again—he had heard of a technique where one could inject apple juice into their neck and die, but he wasn’t sure it’d work—but it slipped out of his grasp. Maybe it was the fact you two were so close in age. The fact that in another universe you could’ve been classmates fueled this moment. Dazai didn’t really know people his age other than Chuuya, but Chuuya was Chuuya. You were new.
New to everything in this line of business. The killing, the release of morals. Then again, you were just an assistant. You’d never directly be involved with that. Just helping him out with whatever was needed.
Dazai thought that was a smart choice, whether or not you intended for it to be. As an assistant, you’d be safe from the gunfire and outermost threats. More likely to live and protect your daughter.
So caring in a line of work where lives were dispensable.
He wondered how you got there. Not to the Port Mafia—the file told him. But how you took on such a frowned upon job to solely provide for your child. Was the father a deadbeat? Or actually dead? His father was the same. Dead five years into Dazai’s life.
His mother tried her best, but she died too and he slipped onto Mori’s grasp. Hopefully your baby wouldn’t end up in the same situation.
The peaceful moment was interrupted by one of his men who dropped off a load of documents, side-eyeing you before leaving.
Dazai wished you hadn’t turned the conversation back to work.
“Sir, sorry- Dazai-san, would you like me to organize the papers..?”
Why did he forget that you were just an assistant of his? The medication must be making his mind woozy again.
“By date and incident, yep. Also, if you see any that mentioned a Chuuya, please throw them out. Or burn them. Preferably the burning part.”
His office was always to be kept rid of that ginger.
“On it.”
And so he doodled a noose on the wood of his desk while you slowly put the papers away. It soon became clear to him that Yukirou was making the job a tad difficult by trying to grab at the papers.
A slight idea of letting her crawl loose in Mori’s office and destroying it entered his mind, but it quickly left.
“Y’know, if she’s being a devil, I can play with her for a bit. I swear I’ll be good!”
The words left him before he could really process them. Next thing he knew he was wearing the baby carrier with tiny fingers pulling at his shirt. Instructions poured from your lips as he nodded and patted the baby’s back.
“I’ll kill you if anything goes wrong.”
He couldn’t help but laugh at the sound of that. You? Kill him? Never going to happen. Unless it were a double suicide, but you probably wouldn’t say yes.
And he replied when the slight fear in your eyes registered after remembering that he was your boss in the Mafia.
“If course, cutie. I give you permission to kill me if theoretically anything goes wrong.”
Dazai made sure to sneak a peek at your reddening cheeks before leaving his office with the baby strapped to his chest and tugging at his bandages like a little snake.
That’s how it all started. A boy and a girl who happened to have a baby.
He’d never regret how months went by as you two became closer and closer. Joking around, complaining about work, all the stuff friends did. Hell, Dazai even watched Yukirou sometimes.
Thank god Chuuya wasn’t there to see him watching children’s cartoons on your couch with a baby in his lap and a stuffed animal in the other.
Or how he insisted on covering some of your rent when you were struggling. Yukirou needs a home, after all. He sees himself in her a bit. And he didn’t want her to turn out like him. If he couldn’t change his own life for the better, he’d change hers.
And yours.
Much better than that dickhead that fathered Yukirou. You told Dazai about it one night when he stayed over after babysitting once more. Yukirou was napping in her nursery, and you two were sitting on the couch just talking.
Talking turned into sharing details of your lives, and he came up. Your old flame who ditched you. Breaking a promise that he’d be there for the baby and you. Dazai was silent all throughout it. Quiet when you spoke of the emotional abuse and stress that you had, quiet when you began crying over the fact you never got to graduate high school.
He was just there, daring to awkwardly rub your back as you vented. He wondered if you had talked about it before. Probably not.
Dazai felt like he too needed to share a story of his childhood too in exchange for yours. So he told you about the poor neighborhood he grew up in and the horrors he saw daily.
Did it lessen the impact of your venting? Most likely, but in his opinion, he was trying to show you that he trusted you now too. He assumed it worked when you fell asleep on his shoulder. He took care of Yukirou when she woke crying an hour later. He would’ve been a much better father than that bastard.
It didn’t help either that Yukirou began to see him as her daddy. He was there when she turned a year old, gifting her all sorts of things. Scolding her when she nibbled on his hands. Doing nearly everything a dad would.
Even when she managed to say ‘mama’ and ‘dada’ for the first time, it was when all three of you were in the room together. In her tiny mind, it was her family. Her mama and Dazai—her papa. Oda congratulated him for becoming a father when you came along one day with him to Bar Lupin.
It didn’t live up to Chuuya’s reaction when he first heard one of his guys call Dazai a doting father. The shortstack had gone up to him asking if he really was Yukirou’s dad—rumors went around at HQ quickly—and Dazai had to sadly reply that he wasn’t. Sometimes he wished he was. Months of time with you led to nights in bed where he dreamed of a universe that he was really the dad. That Yukirou had his brown eyes instead of her dad’s blue ones.
It wasn’t fair.
Nor were his growing feelings.
Dazai was smart. A genius thinker and planner. So of course he noticed how his heart began to rapidly beat around you. The sweating of his usually cold hands.
He’d had crushes in the past, sure. But it didn’t equate to this. Such a strong connection only made it worse. Was it wrong his Google history lately was filled with questions about confessing to and dating a single mom?
Did you even like him back?
That question couldn’t be answered by anyone but you. It scared him. You probably didn’t. Not as more than a brother, anyway. His suicidal ideation and tendencies scared off any woman who wanted more than sex. But he probably wouldn’t be living long anyway. So he’d have to shoot his shot eventually.
Which he did after another five months of consideration and thought. Dazai committed this act by simply asking you to sort out some notes for him. A total of eight. Each one had a single word on it. If you correctly put them together, it spelled:
‘I like you. Do you like me back?’
Much to his relief and shock, you did. You did, and he had hugged you so tightly. Tightening their bond, too.
So he became your boyfriend. And he wore the title of ‘dad’ to Yukirou gladly. The little girl saw him as her papa, and he couldn’t deny it. Even if it wasn’t biologically, she was his. And yours.
Dazai’s life used to be mundane and slow, yet with his new…family, he felt genuine happiness for once. A reason to live.
That was the greatest gift he could receive of all.
Regular Tags: @twst-om-lover, @xxcandlelightxx, @sinfulthoughtsposts.
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Rest in comments I’m crying now also if your tag is white it’s because you didn’t pop up when I was doing the @‘s
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leaf-line · 1 month
Note
For the request, can I please have Yandere Topaz, Jade, and Ruan Mei x people pleasure reader headcanon (seperate).
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𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭
Yandere! Topaz/Jade/Ruan Mei x Gn! Reader
❏ In which your selfless deeds catch someone's attention for no good reason.
cw: suggestive themes, dehumanization, isolation, brainwashing, non-consensual (french) kiss, Ruan Mei being gross.
w/c: 1,484
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"Care for a drink Miss Topaz? Maybe I can help with your problems..." You offer a juice to her, and a hand. Co-worker [Name], a diligent worker in the Strategic Investment Department, seen around doing favors and extra work just for everyone... But why won't you just help her and only her instead?
"Oh, thank you! And no thank you, I can do these all by myself, how about you take care of yourself, and take a rest? You're always so helpful, [Name]." Topaz takes the juice gratefully with a smile.
"No... The same goes for you, Miss Topaz, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here having this position." You bow your head before hearing someone call you.
"[Name]! Do you have anything to do right now!? I need you assistance with this—"
"Yes! Yes! Coming right up!" You scurry to the voice, but not before giving a little wave to Topaz.
She returns the wave. Before looking back to the screen... And frowns. "It's only a matter of time." She mumbles.
Oddly enough, in the next three days after just being in the IPC, you were announced as Topaz's own personal assistant.
"This is... A bit surprising... But I look forward to being your assistant from now on, Miss Topaz." You smile, she smiles too.
"No, Jelena is fine, you're my assistant now, right? You don't need to be formal. I just have one rule... Don't assist any other workers from the IPC if it's not me, alright?" She orders.
"May I ask why...?"
"I simply don't want you to be led astray from your work, now, am I clear?"
What... a weird request, but you follow it nonetheless. For one day, that is, you only lasted one day, when that another co-worker of yours, begged for your assistance, you couldn't refuse, you weren't trained for that.
"Awh come on, [Name]! Just because you're now Topaz's assistant, doesn't mean you don't have to help your other co-workers too!" The person in front of you moaned.
"I'm sorry but, Miss Topa—Jelena advised me not to—"
"It's just very little work, it won't kill you will it? Just help me."
"...A-Alright, fine..."
...After that time, you never saw that same co-worker again the next day, from what you've seen, he was fired from his job because of workplace harassment, you don't know if it's true, you doubt that it's true... and Jelena... didn't seem happy when she confronts you about your deed.
"Didn't I personally said to you that you shouldn't assist anyone other than me?"
She sighs and shakes her head disappointedly. Your back was facing the wall as she pushes up her thigh below your crotch.
"I can't believe you would just disobey me that early, maybe I should start teaching you and training so you won't be pushed around from others like that."
Teaching you and training you like a pet, that is. A cute, little pet who won't disobey her master. That's what Topaz shamelessly labels you as.
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You walked into the pawn shop nervously. You swallow, feeling like you've entered a dangerous territory.
"Welcome to Bonajade Exchange. Who are you? And what do you seek?" An unfamiliar and elegant voice rang from behind the curtain.
"I wish... To help my friends." You mumbled out loud.
"Hm? Why is that?" Though you can't see her, you can feel her smiling through her lips. "Are you sure you're here for the sake of someone else?" She muses.
"They've... Been struggling with expenses, I don't know what offer you but myself... I owe them many." You tell her with a sad tone.
"You're sacrificing yourself for the sake of your friend? That's very noble, we can arrange that. Though, since you're here at my pawnshop, I'd like to hear what you want for your own self."
"No need. I'll do what I can to help other people." You fidget, yet say with full honestly, Lady Bonajade senses that. There is not single greedy bone in your body, fellows like you were rare, it's about time she found a rare gem, just like Jelena.
"I see," She raises the curtains. "In exchange for other people's needs, why don't you work at this shop?" She offers.
You cleaned the pawnshop, bargained for Jade, advertised the shop for the people in need. You kept the store running, but you didn't show any signs of uplifting the profits into another level, you were just a side piece, keeping the shop regulating like normal, and it was insufficient for Jade.
But it's fine, Jade doesn't leave an exchange until she gets real value.
You were cut ties from your family thinking that you were just busy and working hard to provide yourself and sending a lot of resources to them, your friends were now happy and financially stable but never really checked on you whether your doing good, the people you care and know were healthy, but they don't need you. Now you find your hands weighting chains, attached to the shackle on your wrist.
If there's one thing Jade found joy in, it's reaping a pure, untaited, soul.
"Come closer here," Jade gestures you to come over, you obey, broken. You see her lips, tainted with dark red lipstick, it comes closer, not on your face.
And just as Adam bit the apple, Jade bites your neck.
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"Ruan Mei, you're burnt out, please take a rest, I'll handle all of this research." You place a blanket on her shoulder.
"Would you like a cup of tea? A plate of cake? Embroider something? Please inform me, I'll... I'll handle it." You say with a smile.
Ruan Mei was tired, she had been researching Aeons for a couple of weeks, barely feeding herself. And usually, when Ruan Mei was tired, she wouldn't entrust anyone with her research... Except for you.
Ruan Mei's trusty little assistant, whom she's sure no matter what she asks you for, you would do that.
"...I want a cake." She answers, though delayed.
"Oh, alright!" You seem delighted to be doing a favor. You ran into the kitchen, preparing the food as Ruan Mei daydreams.
Why were you so insistent in helping her? Why do you do everything in your power to please her? You're strange, a strange person, Ruan Mei shouldn't care, she shouldn't care about your well being, she shouldn't care why your here to help her.
"I'm at your service, Ruan Mei."
"Do you need any help? I'll be sure to help you with what you need, Ruan Mei."
"Ruan Mei."
"Ruan Mei."
"Ruan Mei—"
"Ruan Mei, your desert is ready..." She snaps out of her daydream and glances at you, then the plate you're holding.
She blinks. "Apologies, I blanked out."
"It's alright."
You don't say her name, she's just a bit slightly dissapointed. But it was never shown in her face.
You hand over the dessert you made for her, she takes it. You studied Ruan Mei's personal favorite desserts, food, tea and how it's all tailored to Ruan Mei's tastes. Your cooking is always bound to be above her expectations.
She takes a bite of the cake and you see her lips curl up by two milimeters, which sounds a lot.
"...Would like me to share?" She must've noticed you staring at her, you shake your head at the offer. "I mean no harm, I simply want to share my food to you, is that alright?"
You obey her regardless...
She looks at her research paper, at the table, only to get a headache since none if it provided her help towards her goal. She opts focusing on you instead.
"Here, say ahh..." Using the spoon, she takes a good amount of portion of the cake and tried to feed you with it like you're a baby.
"Ruan Mei, that is a bit... Embarrassing..."
You said her name, she relishes.
"It's fine, you only deserve, after all the times you helped me, come on, you don't need to lift a finger." She pushes the spoon to your lips, so you awkwardly open your mouth and the cake enters.
"...Say my name." She orders, but your eating something... That's not a problem, right?
"Ruan Mei, wh—Mmph!?"
She intrudes, exploring your mouth with her tongue, feeling the food that you personally made for her, she takes a part of it, and exits your mouth.
She swallows the cake with your saliva coatted in it then licks her lips. "Mm. Delectable." She nods, as if she's rating the experience with 4.5 stars.
You were left there with a dumbfounded expression, confused, perhaps even grossed out.
It's fine, brainwashing isn't hard to conduct, you'll forget this ever happened in no time. Just as how you forgot you were trapped in her home against your will in the first place.
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a/n: mmm... manipulative women... 😋
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aurora-darling · 2 months
Text
Lost to you - part 1
Halsin x F!Reader/Tav
a spin on Halsin's confession, my dearies.
NSFW warning; adult themes - some mentions of death and sexual stuff :>
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In all his 350 years he had never seen a beauty like yours. You were a kind soul, with a loving heart that radiated affectionately. You were by his side through it all, and you never asked for anything in return. You had saved him from that barbaric Goblin camp and stayed by his side ever since. He was astounded by your commitment to helping those in need and your selfless way to protect the innocent. There wasn’t a day that went by that you weren’t assisting someone and you continued to do so with Halsin. 
And it got you hurt. 
You were fighting the shadows, keeping them from the portal while Halsin looked for Thaniel. You had begged to come with him and he refused, telling you he needed to do this alone. No matter how much you protested to go with him, he declined. Halsin stood his ground, telling you it was something he needed to do on his own. His only focus was saving Thaniel, lifting the curse and you might get in his way. When he finally returned, carrying the Fey-child in his arms, he saw your companions standing over you. You were motionless on the ground, your quarterstaff thrown far from your body. You had been tossed like a doll across the sand. You were deathly still - a corpse. Halsin felt torn as his blood ran cold since you weren't moving. “By Balduran's bones, no! Get her up, now!” He heard Wyll shout as your warlock dashed toward you. The others followed quickly, your ragtag party hovering over your body as they worked to resurrect you. 
You had startled awake, coughing profusely as you sat up and gasped for air. Your hands shook, your fingers grasping your necklace tightly as Wyll knelt to soothe you. Your red locks fell across your shoulders, your gray eyes hidden from Halsin. His heart pained at your stature, it was obvious you were in shock. You were crying, sobbing into Wylls arms as remnants of the curse lingered through your tiny body. Halsin stood still, his childhood friend also unconscious in his arms. His teeth pulled at the skin on his bottom lip as he contemplated his next move; should he be at your side or bring Thaniel to safety? Before he could make his decision he watched as your warlock, Wyll, picked you up in his arms. You were small for a human, your arms around Wyll's neck as he cradled you. Halsin felt a feeling foreign to him, a jealousy as he wanted to be the one to care for you. He watched Wyll walk away with you, his teeth gritting together as your face pressed into Wyll’s neck. Halsin shook the thoughts from his mind and made his way to your camp as well.
Halsin kept himself busy, avoiding all thoughts of you until he saw Wyll approach him, still carrying you in his arms. Halsin’s pointed ears perked up at the sight of you. Your robe had been removed and someone had dressed you in your night gown. He hushed as Thaniel began to question him, tugging on Halsin's shirt and waited for Wyll to speak. “She’s alive but could use some healing,” Wyll reassured him, he could read the expression on Halsin’s face. Wyll’s hands tightened his grip on you, his left eye looking over your body as you mumbled in your sleep. You were shaking, your lips still a blueish tint and your grip on Wyll’s clothing was just as tight. Halsin remained silent as he watched you, your life essence had yet to replenish. His heart dropped as he saw the dark color of your fingertips and the ghoulish hue of your skin. You were far from alright, you were on the balance between life and death. It was as if you were a ghost and he couldn’t bring himself to stare at you. His eyes drift to the ground as his heart falls to his feet. 
How could he do this to you?
How could he let this happen?
You were his savior and because of you, his Grove had their archdruid back. He gave you one night of celebrations after your victory with the Goblins before he asked for another favor. Halsin could feel his throat tighten, the feeling of crying out overwhelming him. He wanted to apologize profusely, to beg for your forgiveness. No, he wouldn’t break down in front of you. He wouldn’t burden you with the task of saving him, again. Of having to help him with another task, ever again. Halsin steps forward, “Tavlena.” he says, his brows lowered with concern. You groan at the sound of his voice and rub your face into Wyll’s chest. Halsin’s thin lips pursed together, his teeth biting them both. He clears his throat as he watches Wyll soothe you, that feeling of jealousy building in Halsin’s chest. “Little duck..” Halsin whispers as you finally open your eyes slowly, and tilt your face in the direction of his voice. Your eyes were glazed over, almost white and you seemed to look through him. Your spirit was broken, the once maiden of the forest he fell for long gone. You needed healing, and soon.
Halsin can feel tears swelling in his eyes as he blinks them away. He would not leave you, his savior, in this state. “I shall heal you, my heart.” He whispers and rubs the sweat away from his brow. “Please, take her to my tent. This way.” Halsin could barely speak, his voice cracking as he beconked Wyll to follow him. Wyll’s eyebrow raised at the site of Halsin’s tent, or lack of it. There was fabric strung up on poles to give shade but no privacy. Wyll could feel his concern for your safety building immensley and held you tighter, his fingers curling into your soft flesh. “My friend with all due respect. I can’t lay her on that.” Wyll motions toward a blanket that covers hay, a makeshift bed. Halsin looks at his bedroll and shakes his head. “Apologies but this isn’t the time to be finicky. She needs to be whole again.” Halsin motions for Wyll to lay you down and walks to obtain potions he stored away in his pack. Wyll sighs heavily but obliges and kneels to lay you gently on the ground. Halsin looks over his shoulder behind him, carefully observing the warlock’s actions. He watches as the Blade of Frontiers whispers over you, his hand stroking your cheek and stands his attention now at Halsin. “Be careful with her, please.” Wyll looked at Halsin intensely, his last word bearing more meaning that just the word. Halsin nodded, holding a healing salve in his hands. He cleared his throat as he knelt beside you, his hand over you as he spoke his incantation. “Te curo.” He whispers, his heart torn over almost losing you. Again. 
Once your healing had begun, Wyll excused himself to check on the others, leaving the two of you alone. Halsin repeated his spell once more, watching the bright blue glow engulf your fragile body. His mind started racing. How many times would he put you in danger? You were far more important than he, your veins flowed with the blood of Toril a rite you undertook when you were young. Halsin had heard the tales of the beautiful priestesses of Chauntea—the Goddess of life itself, the Earthmother. He worshiped you at your feet, your very presence a gift to him. Silvanus would be disappointed in his servant, his archdruid letting a maiden of the forest perish in front of him. Halsin sat next to your sleeping body, his large frame casting a shadow over you. His eyes focused on your breathing, counting the breaths you took until you were stable. He kept his composure, his focus on your health most important. Halsin sighed in relief when your cheeks flushed a shade of rose, his healing worked. There was an errie silence, only noises coming from the torches burning by his tent. Your companions had retired for the night and Thaniel was taking a stroll by the creek. Halsin lifted his fingers to brush your arm, his lips curled into a smile as he realized how soft you were. You were so brave, so powerful, and yet so delicate. He yearned to protect you, to serve you. He was your Green Knight after all.
Halsin had moved to sit in front, his back facing you. He had removed his armor for the night and passed the time carving, his attention entirely on his task. Your eyes fluttered open and you were instantly overwhelmed with the rush of consciousness, your head spinning. Halsin’s ears perked up immediately, his face turning to look at you. His eyes opened wide as he failed to collect his thoughts. He tried to speak, his hand almost reaching out to touch you. “Tavlena.” His voice is low and thick with concern. You try to sit up on his bedroll but hiss at the pain in your abdomen and fall back just as quickly. Groaning you throw your arm over your head and sigh, shaking your head and asking your earthmother for guidance. “Mother of all flowers, please release me of this pain- it’s unbearable.” You laugh and pull your arm away, winking at Halsin. You loved to tease him, your large protector. He would  normally blush, the tips of his pointed ears a deep red, and chuckle, his gaze averting yours. This time however you noticed Halsin looking at you with painful eyes, his lips turning into a frown. You could sense something was troubling him so you smiled and rubbed your face and thanked him. “I could feel my life slipping, thank you for saving me.” You stared at the ceiling of his tent, the stars present in the small opening of the top. Halsin smiles as he looks for Thaniel, watching the fey child skip stones across the water. “I wouldn’t dare let a daughter of the Great Mother perish.” He says, his face turning to look at you now, his expression is solemn. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, ever. Is what he wanted to say. 
You smile and twirl your hair around your finger, your eyes observing the amber highlights in the torchlight. “She would be angry with me if she saw the blow I took.” You sigh, your face turning to observe the area around you. Halsin had hung gourds full of herbs for healing salves and potions. You smiled as you knew those exact ingredients, spells, and recipes only passed down to those of your clergy. There were scrolls depicting plants and a few animal bones scattered about. He was untidy, keeping no furniture and you would mostly catch him sitting in the dirt. To anyone else it was barbaric, to anyone else he was a wildman. Yet to you, he was beautiful. He was connected to nature, a true servant of Silvanus.“She would be proud.” He responds and your eyes look toward him, his face is apologetic. Halsin looks as if he’s about to break, his green eyes filling with tears. “You were magnificent. You were so brave, so-” He stops himself, shaking his head and sniffing back tears. “Ah, forgive me I don’t know what came over me, I-” He stops again and turns to look at you. 
His heart swells at that look on your face. Did you have to look so loving?
“Halsin.” You say in a tone that has his member throbbing with desire. “What troubles you love?” You had moved your arms above your head, you were a sight to behold. Your bright gray eyes shined with kindness as always, your cute way of scrunching your nose when you caught him looking at you. You would smile and shake your head lovingly, your red curls falling across your forehead. You lie still before him and nudge him with your toe for an answer. He looks across your body and his heart warmed at the idea that his bedroll would smell like you, like honeysuckle. Halsin nodded in agreement as you whine and teased him with his name again, he knew he should tell you. That he should let go and confess his feelings for you. Silvanus had delivered you to him, he could feel it in his soul. He felt it the moment his eyes saw you, the little wrath of Mother Nature standing up to Goblins to free him from his prison. He loved you since then, his heart now in turmoil that he chose Thaniel over you. But no matter how he felt, he was still a servant of Silvanus first and foremost. 
And you came second. 
Halsin sighs and moves to sit next to you, dusting his palms on his pants leg. He kept his gaze from you, staring at the wood carvings to avoid throwing himself at you. To avoid begging for your forgiveness. “I’m sorry.” He says, his fingers scratching the large scars across his face. He had joked about the story behind it and regretted telling you, would you ever see him as your strong Archdruid again? Or did you see him as a pathetic excuse of a leader? You breathe in deep and Halsin can sense your frustration. “For what?” You ask your arm over your eyes again. He looks as you bite your bottom lip, your teeth raking over it as you await his answer. “You were injured. I asked you to stay behind and I took too long. I shouldn’t have asked you to.” He responds simply, his large hand rubbing his forehead. He didn’t want to admit his guilt, he was terrified that you would agree. 
What if you blamed him?
You prop yourself on your elbows, your eyes looking across the camp as you gather your thoughts. You could see the candle light flicker in Wylls tent, your eyes looking back at your archdruid. “Yes, but you healed me and I’m alive because you did so. I was the one who made a mistake, not you.” You say with the same tone as Halsin. You could play this game too. Halsin sighs this time, his eyes looking at your abdomen. “Yes, but you’re still in pain. I couldn’t heal you completely.” He retorts, his nose wrinkling as he thinks of his failure, he couldn’t even heal you entirely. You groan in frustration as you move your arm to touch him, your hand clasping his shoulder. “Please don’t burden yourself with that. I’m fine, see?” You squeeze his shoulder and Halsin can feel himself faltering, he leans to press his lips on your fingertips. He breathed in your scent again, sweet honeysuckle. He could feel his desire building, his eyes betrayed him as he looked at you, your gaze trapping him instantly. 
Halsin moves immediately over you, his face leaning over yours. You can see the symbol of the oak father displayed on his camp ensemble, his necklace dangling over your lips. “Oak Father.” He moans, his green eyes glowing as you tease him with your expressions. You smile devilishly, your eyelids closing slowly, your tongue gliding over your bottom lip before you bite it slowly. “Ursidae.” You call him, your fingers reaching up to trace his lips. “Preserve me.” He pleads, his hands grasping fistfuls of the blanket under you. “You’ll be the absolute death of me.” You breathe sharply as your desire for him builds as well, your breasts rising and falling as you crave his touch. 
Halsin notices, his eyes taking in every curve of your body. He loved how fertile you looked, the shape of you sending him spiraling. He could recall the nights he spent in the woods, lost over thoughts of your beauty. Of your legs. Your hips. Your breasts. 
Halsin groans as you spread your legs for him, the sight of your night dress sliding up your plump thighs. He could feel his need to sink his teeth into them, to devour your legs with kisses while he pleases you. You notice the lustful look in his eyes and test him, your fingers tracing up his shirt, over the small opening that exposed his large chest. His body felt so warm, so smooth and strong. You giggle as Halsin takes ahold of your hand and buries his face in it, inhaling deeply. “Please.” He whispers into your hand, his eyes looking into yours. “Please what?” You ask, your thumb stroking his cheek. “Do you know how hard this has been? How hard it’s been to contain myself?” He asks, his eyes closing as he holds your hand against his face. “I’m afraid to-” He stops himself again, his fear of showing you his weakness consuming him. You remained silent, your eyes observing the gentle giant above you. Halsin smiles painfully, his heart torn between giving in and keeping himself from what he feared most. “I won’t stop until I devour you whole.” He confesses.
He was afraid of losing control. 
You smile with your eyes as he watches your lips form to whisper those three little words he longed for, his heart swelling as you say them.
 “I trust you.” 
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